Reset

Reset

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Press Reset. The window that caught my eye on Friday morning when I was running a few errands in Cheltenham seemed to sum up our activity over the last week. Sorry, SpaceNK, those are probably great products you’re promoting, but for me it was the words that worked.

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I hadn’t intended to buy a pair of boots when I set out but seeing these cuties on sale at less than half the price I’d declined to pay for them in December, how could I resist? My bargain of the year, because I don’t do “sales shopping”.

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I must say, the centre of Cheltenham was pretty dreary on Friday, from the jumble sale that was Marks and Spencer where all their stock was mixed up and arranged on tightly packed racks according to colour - no thanks - to the desperate emptiness of Cavendish House/House of Fraser. The cheeriest corner of all was where the Salvation Army lady was standing; the corner where she or one of her colleagues has always stood on a Friday morning. I did as I have always done and reached for my purse, exchanging smiles and blessings, grateful for a copy of the War Cry, now in full colour. It prompted memories of my childhood, when Daddy and Grandad would go off to “St Vincents” on a Saturday night, always returning with a copy of the War Cry for my Nan and the Young Soldier for me. For years I was sure they were going to church whilst Mummy, Nan and I stayed home with our sewing and knitting, watching Dixon of Dock Green or something similar. It took me quite a few years to work out that St Vincents was not a church at all, but a snooker club where the Sally Army visited on a Saturday night in the hope of rescuing one or two souls along the way! I’ve always had a soft spot for the War Cry then and am glad to think it’s still going strong, in digital form as well today.

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My psychological reset had me searching for the Rhodia Goalbook I’d bought last Autumn together with a copy of the Bullet Journal book. I’d been intrigued by the journals I’d seen online and maybe I might try it for myself? But the more I discovered, the less interested I became. Most of these didn’t seem to be “real” productivity tools but mere decorative colouring books and an excuse to buy more felt pens!

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My Keel’s Simple Diary is much more my kind of thing and doesn’t help my organisation at all. But every time I look at it, it makes me smile. Totally crazy and completely off the wall, it’s not really a diary or a productivity tool but a fun way of recording thoughts and sparking a bit of creativity.

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Anyway, returning to my lack of interest in the whole business of sales and special offers, when a GAP advert popped up with “SALE! FURTHER REDUCTIONS!” alongside a picture of the black crop trousers below, I couldn’t resist clicking through. I had just paid a small fortune for a pair of (very nice, good quality) black crop trousers just like that from Eileen Fisher when we were in Nashville. How much were these?

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The answer was cheap. VERY cheap - as were the merino wool sweaters on the same page, and that was before I input the code for an additional 20% or something, bringing them down to less than £10… The parcel arrived yesterday (free postage and returns too!) and everything is great. So she who never snags a bargain because she can’t be bothered sifting through racks of tightly packed clothing really did win through this time.

Last but not least, I can’t post to my blog on the 6 January without remembering 1985 and Stroud Maternity hospital.

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Now to work out the scientific miracle that enables our sweet son and family Government Affairs professional to have his 34th birthday today when (I think) I am also just 34 years old. As if reports of watching Dixon of Dock Green count for anything….

Must have pressed the reset button sometime.

Done. Finished. Over.

Done. Finished. Over.

Quiet

Quiet