Paper Money

When I'm 64 (from March 2011)

That is the age at which I will now receive a state pension.

Oh well. I think I shall have to become a bank robber.

Don't tell anyone I said that.

Joking aside - it was terribly unjust that women were entitled to a pension five years before men. What was that all about? And it's not as if 60 is even old these days. Or so I like to kid myself.

It's the kids I feel sorry for. There they'll be trying to get a foot on the career ladder starting with something humble and character-forming like working the aisles in B&Q or Tescos and there will be all the old codgers like me taking their jobs. And I will too - if the bank robbing thing doesn't work out.

<><><><><>

Nelly's Garden has sure turned out to be quite the aide-memoire pour moi. For, thinks I to myself - I should write about how great it is to finally be in receipt of the long-awaited state pension and I knew I'd written about it before and, there you go, seven years ago I was positively longing to be a pensioner. It turned out I didn't do anything quite as drastic as robbing a bank or getting a job. As if! There's rarely a morning that passes that I don't wake up and thank the universe that I don't have to go to work.

So it is that even the grandchildren, at least the ones that live in Ireland and are aware of the existence of money, knew that I was looking forward to my pension. For as we headed into the local Spar yesterday afternoon and I opened my purse to check how much money I had, Evie exclaimed,

Is that paper money Granny?

And Martha asked,

Is it your pension Granny?

I think she's been looking forward to my pension as much as I have.

I knew I'd have a little spending spree when it finally came and as it came with another little windfall there was definitely going to be some addressing of pent-up need on the wardrobe front. So I went shopping yesterday just before I picked up the girls, thrifting and regular, and got a lovely rust-coloured linen cardigan (for a pittance) and some ridiculously cheap biker boots in TK Maxx plus some navy trousers. Got home and discovered I'd got the wrong size trousers and the boots still had a security tag on them. The cardi was still delicious, no issues there.

So, it was back to the shops today. As I entered TK Maxx the security alarm shrilled which really confused the guy on the floor. But no bother, he removed the tag and I swapped the trousers for a very useful structured black jackety, cardigany thing. In the thrift shops, I bought a very nice summer skirt. Fits lovely but you'd know you're wearing it. I reminded myself that Loulou de la Falaise said that when it comes to clothes she didn't like to feel too comfortable and I think I might take that to heart except when I'm gardening. 

And I hope Martha will be pleased with the three quid Mini-Boden dress I found in Ballymena's latest charity shop. It's from several seasons ago but that means vintage and Martha likes a bit of vintage.

The personal motto for the rest of my life is - just because you're fat doesn't mean that you can't have Nice Things. 

Martha's dress and my pre-loved cardigan and a Brand New Book because no shopping spree is complete without one.