God, awful isn't it, the reality of actually being middle aged.<\/p>\n
Every time I stand lycra-clad (or -poured) in the gym, boxing away thinking I look bloody marvellous, the mirrors remind me that I am in fact bloody well middle aged, a perfect case in point in fact, of middle age spread in motion.<\/p>\n
And life seems to be set up to remind you constantly that you are, in fact, vaguely and in some cases totally, past it.<\/p>\n
Like when you try and work out how the hand scanner things in Waitrose work, as you unglamorously try and wrestle one off the wall.<\/p>\n
Or realise how much you infinitely prefer to just throw 'thank god its not me' money at people who are doing Marathons \/ Triathlons \/ Arse-clenching mega-cycles across bum-numbing terrains \/ Iron Mans (or is that Iron Men?) and the like – reaching for that 'Click Here to Sponsor' button is just SO more 40-something than actually doing it yourself.<\/p>\n
Or when you lend a friend's child (in this case one of the Lucy Richardson girls) your I-pad to show them the brilliance of Tap the Frog – only for them to flick and swoosh from the front screen to something far more entertaining that you never knew was there.<\/p>\n
Let alone when you're running a workshop and a youngie says 'oh yeah I just updated my Facebook about that' – and you think, how the f+ck???? I haven't taken my eyes off you in the last 5 minutes and thought I could see your hands, yes both of them. Do the kids now just THINK status update and it magically happens?? Fresh-faced little bastards.<\/p>\n
God even writing this makes me feel old. Are we having jacket potato and tuna mayo tonight because I really like it – or because my subconscious is now directlng me to easily masticatable foods? And I'm not even sure that's a real word….<\/p>\n
Anyway the point to this ramble was to share some utterly overjoying news – I have finally found a replacement for my favourite app on the Ipad, Train Conductor. Which has kept me tragically entertained for many months until I finally hit a high score so unbeatable that it lost its appeal and was tarnished forever. (Although if you haven't tried it, buy Train Conductor 2 – the American one – and play the Seattle train game on it, its def the best of them all!)<\/p>\n
I've since been dabbling with Solitaire, but it does make your eyes go funny after a while.<\/p>\n
I tried Just Connect but I'm actually too thick for it (clearly the game is at fault, it can''t possibly be me) and anyway I've done all the free ones and haven't bonded with it enough to cough for the paid levels.<\/p>\n
And Scrabble got a bit boring, as no-one will ever play me and that Medium level is just too easy and the Hard level is way way way too blimming hard.<\/p>\n
And have even recently resorted to going 'off App' and entering competitions online to keep my App-lonely fingers busy. If I get any more shite emails from MyOffers to my Hotmail I may have to change address (although clearly that in itself is a young person's game).<\/p>\n
Until this week, when I was introduced to not just one but two new wonder Apps of the Scotty variety.<\/p>\n
So, in the true spirit of blog-sharing, may I offer the wonders of these to you all:<\/p>\n
1. Toy Balls – ah yes, perhaps not the most thrillingly named, but still a game with endless levels of clicking on balls to earn points<\/p>\n
But way superior – and in fact of the Train Conductor compulsion and excellence (plus with some very good themed relevance to my hubby), here is:<\/p>\n
2. HARBOUR MASTER<\/p>\n
Oh oh oh, paroxysms of joy. Endless little tug boat square thingies to drag in and out of harbours. Small ones, medium ones and big old slow 4 bits of cargo ones. Lots of potential to get sunk by colliding. And even cannon shot to avoid.<\/p>\n
In fact, enough blogging – I think I have time for a quick game while H sorts out the massive cut on his finder from prepping dinner, Mojo guzzles the tiny bit of tuna down that we aren;'eating, Mum polishes off yet another bottle of sherry and I can see if a high score is withn my grasp.<\/p>\n
Happy Sunday nights, hey?<\/p>\n
S x<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
God, awful isn't it, the reality of actually being middle aged. Every time I stand lycra-clad (or -poured) in the gym, boxing away thinking I look bloody marvellous, the mirrors remind me that I am in fact bloody well middle aged, a perfect case in point in fact, of middle age spread in motion. And life […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1219","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\n