Of Death and Blogging

The big news here is that my computer has died. It's died party people. Well for now at least.

So there's your reason why I've been blogging sporadically.

I have to divert Matt's attention - point and say: 'look, look over there' - and while he's distracted trying to determine what I am pointing at, I grab his computer, hack into his mainframe, fire off a few tweets, read my emails, and then quickly give him back his computer.

It's a sad and sorry state of affairs.

What's a gal to do but go to bed early and re-read The Great Gatsby, and get some beauty sleep?

You can find me on Instagram though (@pottymouthmama). Until I figure out a solution to my dead computer problemo.

image via here. Someone really, really loved their computer.

InstaBotox

I've been having a blast on Instagram, whereby I mess with the filters (not fillers) and can produce almost blemish-free, wrinkle-free skin. It's better than Botox. No needles. No toxins. No muscle paralysis. 


Speaking of which...What do you think of Botox? 


I've not had it. Not going to either. 

I like to think of ageing gracefully - of embracing the wrinkles and lines that are medals of life (and I often think - if I was a caveman, I wouldn't even be alive now - high five frown lines!). 


I had some photos taken last week - where my brow is furrowed - and well, it's probably ripe for sowing some plants in there. It's probably not perty, but it's part of me. 


I think overuse of Botox winds up looking a bit.. Odd. A bit... Freaky. It's a slippery slope, and how do you ever get off the merry-go-round of your three monthly Botox top ups? I genuinely want to know. 


A tell-tale sign, I believe, is those cray cray kick up eyebrows - that's a giveaway. 


So go to town friends, if you're pro-Botox, educate me on the joys. If you're sitting on the fence, perhaps I'll come join you. And if you're not keen on the needle in the face, talk to me too. 

I Don't Know About You...

But I feel KO'ed this afternoon. We had dancing first thing this morning, (well Tiny did, not me) after dropping Matt to work, then we seemed to be in the car for the four hours following. Not much chop.

The smalls are kicking back watching a movie, while I've been pottering about in the garden, and feeling a bit weak and tired - I'm yearning for a cat nap.


Can anyone identify that pesky blue flower in the top picture? It seems to be a weed that's impregnated my front garden with itself, and is now rife with this dirty blue flower thing. Anyone? 


Meanwhile, back on other matters, I've finally joined Instagram. You can find me under PottyMouthMama. Quelle surprise! 


Finally, here's a song to send you on your way. You dig?