Is it worth having hair-free legs anymore?

Now be honest girls, how many of us actually like getting rid of body hair? If ever I had riches beyond belief one of the few luxuries I would chose would for a miracle treatment to make this ritual redundant.

Two weeks have now passed since Clive left our planet. Two weeks growth of body hair now has sprouted. So I asked myself the question this morning, 'Do I care?'

The choice issue raised it's head again. I am adamant that I want to eventually enjoy this rare new phenomena of being single. I have no intention of anyone getting near my legs and other bits for a long, long time. No-one will see, so should I bother?

A couple of years ago I was going to Spain for a few days with my parents. At the airport we had the usual hassle of toiletries in clear bags. The ones I had put all my travel cosmetics, lotions, creams, etc. were in the wrong sort of clear bag! It took a while to get sorted and when we did the security guy rolled his eyes at all my paraphernalia. I laughed with him and said 'It takes effort to look like this, you know!'

Readers of my book 'Eyes with sparkle - a journey through postnatal illness' http://www.amazon.co.uk/Eyes-without-Sparkle-Journey-Postnatal/dp/185775655X/ref=tag_stp_s2_edpp_url
will know of my pleasure of little bottles for packing! My hospital bag for Dominic's birth was packed hours after conception - just in case!

I am a great believer in pampering yourself for yourself. Of course it is good to be appreciated and Clive scored highly on that. When he first met me I had begun to have my nails professionally manicured and painted. It was my treat to me and ensured for an hour or so I could NOT answer my Blackberry and it was my 'therapy' and switch off time. When I was worried about money that was the first thing I cut out. Clive wasn't impressed! He recognised that nice nails aren't about being vain. In the same way he encouraged me to spend time on my hair, etc. He didn't care about me wearing make-up or not. He actually preferred 'just me', but realised that mascara and lipstick help a girl feel good. It goes along with the matching underwear theme. Do these things to make YOU feel good about yourself. You ARE worth it.

Since my underwear blog I have been getting many messages from ladies who are now sporting new undies - a lovely text came to me yesterday - 'I am now well knickered and matched'! Yes!
Another friend told me how she has lived in big knickers and a comfy bra for the last five years. She is just emerging from a troubled time and yesterday for the first time since she had her daughter she was wearing gorgeous matching underwear. Seems Clive and I had it right - she thanked us for reminding her how it is possible to feel.

I had trouble getting to sleep again last night and went into a wallow for a little while. Someone posted on Facebook about getting out of relationships that didn't make you feel loved, safe and warm. Somewhat pathetically I posted that it was unfair that this is taken from you when you have it! With that I slept for over eight hours! When I did wake it was to messages of support, even that had been sent at 1 a.m. to me. Thank you everyone.

So I got out of bed with the 'it's Sunday, lots to do' spring in my step.

First on my list was ironing which I did listening to Steve Wright Sunday Love songs. I often did this whilst Clive would be gardening. We had a 'no office' rule at weekends and although we were busy it would not be 'work' as such.

I smiled as I ironed his last bits of ironing. It turned out not to be. He was a messy eater and three of his 'last worn' tops had to go back in the washing. Ariel and Vanish have still to invent a Clive stain remover!

I imagined his arms around me as I ironed. I smiled at the memory of him. Normally he would appear in his scruffs from the garden, kiss me, tell me he adored me and then go back out again.

Steve played this and I still smiled. I had texts from my Mum and Lynn checking I was okay. I was.



I pictured and heard him doing the Bee Gee vibrato; put the ironing board away and tidied the back door area where it lives.

Next job - legs, etc. It wasn't as bad as I had thought and seemed to take seconds instead of minutes. It occurred to me that I did need to do it as I may be 'in public' at the weekend and I don't want the 'can't wear that skirt' scenario due to being related to a gorilla.

Then it happened. That tsunami crashed again. Why? I stripped the bed.

I had written so strongly about this yesterday. Best of intentions. Reality hurt like hell. I could hear Clive telling me 'It's only bedding. It's only bedding. We often did this on a Sunday'.
All the negative questions flooded over me - 'Why? Why did he have to go? Why did he leave me? Why when we had so much to give one another and others as a team? Why, oh why?'
 I sat wailing into the bedding and sobbing from my freshly cut toe nails up the ends of my hair. I again asked him for strength. Opening my eyes at last, the first thing I saw was Rasta Lion! I pressed his paw ...



So what could I do?!

I got dressed, brought the bedding downstairs and decided it was time to sit down and have a drink. Again the support from texts and Facebook was literally just waiting for me. Wow! It helps so much. Thank you so much.

Whilst my tea was cooling I popped next door to ask if I can have Sunday tea with them. Sorted.

So I now have a sunny Sunday afternoon to spend as I choose.

Time to put those clean sheets on!

Elaine x