How Time Goes Faster As You Get Older.blog

I went to Brighton for a course. It was sewing with fine stitches and laying organza fabrics one on top of each other. I drew a basic pair of hands and did as instructed. This formed the back of the challah cover and on the front I used details to represent Harry and Gemma’s places of interest and importance.

The hands represented their union and as this was an engagement present the ring finger had a ring on it. I have always liked using patterned floral fabric.

The hands make up the back of this challah cover.

In this section I am representing Brighton with its very big LGBTQ+ community where Harry, Gemma and I spent some fabulous time together not long before they became engaged. The flower is a peony from a collection of flowers on card I have had for many years.

This image is an embroidery I have done of Harry and Gemma on a car roof dancing in the sunset on one of their holidays.

I do so love trees and this one has pink beads at the end of each branch. And there is my signature spiral too! Also some more colourful cards – this time with roses.

I have chosen these patches to represent Tel Aviv as I know that Gemma and Harry have spent a lot of time there. As have I – well now I live in Jaffa!

Gemma adores dogs and I bought these (and more) sets of dog postage stamps in Brighton from a philatelist. It also has a little package of heart that I had made using a special shaped cutter in the bottom right hand corner.

The entire front of the challah cover. At the bottom it has 7 (obviously my favourite lower prime number) triangular flags! Like a lot of my newer challah covers the idea is that this cannot be washed and so all the stains will tell a story. A bit like wine stains and matzo crumbs in a Haggadah (the book we use for the Passover Seder.

I have always loved making Challah Covers. The only reason I know we cover the bread on Friday night is so that when we first bless the wine the challah’s don’t get upset. But of course there is a real explanation! The cover represents the layer of dew that enclosed the manna and kept it fresh during the Exodus! There we go…..

I make them as they are uniquely Jewish and textile based and I have to say most of the commercial ones are rather dull!

My friend Galina found this rather plain challah cover. I asked her to chose the colour and yarn for the tassles, if she wanted a bell (she did!) and she wanted me to add some pink puff paint to match the single thread of sari ribbon in the tassle which was bright fuschia pink.

Tania is one of the most generous people I know. I have stayed at her house in Hove with my family and friends. It is truly delightful and very interestingly and tastefully decorated. It is such a treat. I wanted to make her a challah cover and beach huts seemed like a good theme. I dyed the white cloth I had blue and used some blue strips of cloth to make the beach huts. Some even have mezuzahs!

Betsy, my good ,friend who had a batmitzvah with me late June 2023, requested a nature themed challah. So I painted the other half of the white cloth green and entrapped some lavender and other plants I had collected from Sukhat Shalom Shul in Wanstead by sewing it in and trapping it under silver organza.

Lucy had a beautiful piece of drawn thread embroidery she had had for decades in the USA. We felt it could be turned into a challah cover and I backed it with a gold lame fabric and tassels made from cotton, gold thread and mohair. Such a lovely project to be part of!

I went round to Gabby and Osho with his mother and grandmother for a wonderful Friday Night Dinner and they didn’t have cloth napkins or a challah cover – so I rectified that – using a curtain my neighbour Ada gave me!

Caroline FC was the whole reason I started on the purple journey and although I had made her lots of purple things with dogs this is the first challah cover! It is a dreamcatcher with keyrings to represent her, Adam, Joshua, Arieh and Eli in order of age (from left to right or right to left!).

My sister-in-law gave me some fabric from her mother for a table runner which she never used. She didn’t have a challah cover but now she does!

Using fabric from Senegal, I made Justyn a challah cover not long after he was divorced. The cover itself was pretty simple but the tassels, which I made, were a nice and chunky navy chenille thread with silver for the tassel heads.

I gave Ollie a choice of challah covers and they wanted one with the fabric I bought from Senegal with white tassels. This is for their engagement party! Mazel Tov……

I made a purple challah cover for my lovely friend Rebecca who is almost my twin and has hosted me to have meals and stay and lend an ear for more years than I can remember. This challah cover has bound multicoloured yarn, chenille, wooden flowers and felt hearts. The lilac ribbon hides my label.

This is a challah cover I made for friends Caroline and Marc. They use it every Friday night and I have repaired it also over the years. I couched chenille yarn to make the central shape.

There was a very nifty weaving studio in Hackney I went to with Tracy – my sister in law once. Tracy forgot her glasses and couldn’t really see what she was making. You could also book a slot and do some free style weaving at other times and this is my own weaving with purple yarn for my sister in law Marian which I took to Israel in Spring 2019. The studio was run by Francesca Kletz who was recently on the BBCs Interior Design Masters 2024. Here is some https://www.thejc.com/news/features/interior-design-masters-francesca-kletz-wants-to-be-the-joan-rivers-of-decorating-kput32yg

Continuing the purple theme in Spring 2019, I went for a number of meals with Susan accompanied by my son. This challah cover has lots of flowers, looped yarn and some spirals of chenille yarn. The back was woven and you can see it poking out on the front.

In a bright pink phase, I made this challah cover for Beattie using fabric I painted and used heart shaped prints, and sewn on motifs from India.

This is the challah cover I made for the community in Pune during my sabbatical early 2020. I painted the fabric, quilted it and it had a single tassel as well as saying Shabbat Shalom in Puff Paint. Here is the link to this challah cover in my original sabbatical blog. https://howtimegoesfasterasyougetolder.blog/the-pressure-is-on-must-get-as-many-projects-completed-as-possible/

This challah cover was for Lior and Yoni. It is made from fabric that Lior gave me from a collection of a Holocaust survivor who loved to collect fabrics. She died of old age. In this I have entombed a huge number of Bougainvillea petals which may well fade over time. One tassel has a bell. The card said not to wash it but for the stains to tell as story over time.

I made this challah cover for the Valmans. I went there for Friday Night Dinner in Ra’anana and I found out Persha loved lighthouses and shells. So I used the fabric that Lior had given me and ensnared some shells and the lighthouse.

I made this slightly mad purple collection of ribbons with a gold painted centre for Deborah’s 60th.

This was made for Devorah for her engagement using purple fabric and flowers from India.

This challah cover for Natalie was for her 50th. It has prints, wooden flowers, glass beads and a little bag as well as paint puff decoration.

This was a rather dark challah cover wedding present for Jonny and Jessica!

Using up lots of stripes of fabric, I made this as an engagement present for Jade and Adam.

This was a very special challah cover for Ayala and Ben and their kids. They gave me my cat Bobbin. There are all sorts of things trapped under the organza such as beads, earrings, cat broaches, hearts, stones as well as sumptuous silver tassels.

This is a challah duvet. I made it years ago. Not sure for whom!

The journey is to be continued. There is a blog to come soon about the challah cover I made for my son, Harry, for his engagement to Gemma.

Carly dislikes camping. Actually, she really hates it. Which is odd. Carly considers herself to be a naturist and therefore, by rights, she should at the very least enjoy camping to a greater or lesser extent. But she doesn’t. It’s not that she hasn’t given camping a go. Oh yes, she has. But really the whole overall experience was ghastly, she complains, and never, ever to be repeated. 

When she grew up, she never went camping. It wasn’t her family’s sort of thing. They just didn’t do camping. Probably because they were a teensy bit snobby. Actually, they went on very sedate holidays by the sea. Carly does remember one terrible occasion where she was insolent and saw the back of one of her parent’s hands. This incident happened in an elevator in an Orlando hotel and was forever known going forward as a “Florida Lift”. In fact, this wasn’t a seaside holiday but a Disney one. All Carly remembers were the size of some of the local population. Every family had at least one ginormous member. 

Carly tried quite hard to reject this way of life when she left her parental home. Like many things young adults do when they want to break away. It is saying that these are my values and mantras, they are different from your ones, and I am sticking to them. For the most part. Until the values swing back the other way to be almost identical to the original parental ones. But when Carly became a parent, she wanted to be alternative and different. Her son Tobes is convinced this really is the case. He informs everyone that Carly made him left-handed, so she could be seen to be flying in the face of convention. He thinks she only did it to support her over-the-top personality. But really? Carly frowns. She didn’t bind up his right hand to ensure this outcome. Nor did she stand and beat him with a stick until he used his left hand competently. And how does he explain the fact that he is left eye dominant and kicks a ball (now very occasionally indeed) with his left foot? Tosh. Tobes is left-handed because it is in his genes. Carly’s mother and sister are left-handed. Carly doesn’t need to do additional ridiculous things to fit in with this “stereotype”. She just is alternative and different. End of.  

So, Carly never went camping with her family or as a child. And she wasn’t a brownie or girl guide. She isn’t sure why not. Her sister was. Maybe the troop only took left-handed girls? No that clearly is nonsense.  

She does remember camping in a huge tent, that was more like a yurt, in Morocco. She was there with her boyfriend, Ades and their travels seemed to coincide with the “World Peace Games”. This hadn’t been their intention and it was a very minor affair as only three other countries turned up. Bizarre. But staying in this yurt with about 29 others was strange and weird. A bit like the games. Surreal. Yes, it was surreal. Her only other time she was in a yurt was for Cornelia and Wilhelm’s wedding. This a rather fun and strange affair. It did mean you were only there for the day. No sleeping under canvas. Phew. 

Carly does have a problem remembering stuff. It is not like things aren’t important to her. They are. But she is pretty sure that when new information is fed into her being, old stuff has to exit. She is like a hospital inpatient ward at maximum-fill bed capacity. So, she is pretty pleased with herself for remembering three true camping occasions. Yes, she was able to pull them from the deep recesses of her mind. Good. Well good she has remembered them, but the experiences were sub-optimal all the same. Unfortunately, there is no getting round this fact. All three were pretty ghastly. Worse than suboptimal. She still has no idea why after the first time she allowed herself to be manipulated into repeating the experience. Who is she kidding? Can you be self-manipulated? The bottom line is humans are fickle creatures and Carly is no exception.  

Decades ago, she camped in Becca and William’s Donga wood. This was in deepest, darkest Dorset. Bill owned a wood and let it out to the Donga tribe sometimes. They roamed around nude. Carly was a bit upset they weren’t going to be around. They had been told to vacate the woods for this particular weekend. The weather was inclement to an extreme. Bill put up a tarpaulin to shelter the five couples he had invited. Carly was convinced that she and Ades were the most tent and camping naïve. Both had sedentary careers whilst all the other couples seemed very much to commune with the land. And they all lived locally. Despite the best efforts of the weather to ruin the camping, Carly and Ades were nice and warm in their tent. But there were lots of crashing noises all night long. In the howling gale, all Carly could assume was that there was a MAM (mad-axe-murderer) on the loose. Carly imagined this MAM was slashing through their tent roof to slay humans. In reality it was probably coming from twigs falling. Carly was totally traumatised then and vowed she would never camp ever again. 

But surprise. She relented. Mostly because she convinced herself that camping wasn’t too bad. Her memory is shocking. So, she decided to take her own children and her left-handed sister’s children to Canvey Island. They had a five-man tent and a kid’s one from Ikea. It was all going to be sooooooooooo much fun. Things got off to a bad start as the roof box on the Volvo estate catapulted itself off its brackets just three minutes into their journey. Back to the drawing board. Well actually just back to putting the roof box on correctly. So, they loaded up again and there was no further incident with the car. Two adults in the front, three kids in the back (squabbling) and two in the boot. Oh, and the dog Jake a collie/whippet lurcher-style dog. 

The kids weren’t that helpful putting up the tents. Jake barked at everyone and anything, so things got off to a bad start again. It drizzled most of the time and the only local entertainment was crabbing. Not great when you are bunch of Jews forbidden from eating seafood. The kids were too young to be allowed in pubs and it was too wet to light a fire. Oh dear. Another failed camping experience. 

The final trip that springs to mind was when Carly and Ades went to Scotland. They drove up in Culfy – their red Nissan Cherry. But in the whole trip they only spent two nights camping. They had the curiosity and flexibility of youth, but the midges proved too much for them. To be bitten in such a relentless way when it wasn’t even hot felt like they’d been cheated. Instead, they stayed in cheap hotels and relegated the tent to the deepest, darkest caverns of the Culfy’s boot. One memorable day they were in a café in Fort William having pizzas. Bizarrely Carly flipped her one over. It’s not that she routinely looks at the underside of her food. But she did then. It was covered in fluffy green mould. That was it. They packed up and sped south to return to safety at home. They interrupted a friend’s romantic endeavours by returning early. He was staying, allegedly, to look after the cats. But he felt he could multitask. Carly calls her cats her feline devotees. Carly does often have delusions of grandeur. Anyway. “So sorry to have interrupted” murmured Carly who was devilishly happy to have run away from midges and mould.  

These piss-poor camping experiences have been quite enough for Carly. She and her new boyfriend David have made it conditional on their relationship continuing. No camping. Under any circumstances. Ever, ever, ever. No fickle changing of minds. Meow. 

 India is a country very dear to Carly’s heart. She just totally loves it. She acknowledges that India is a complete and thorough assault on every single one your senses. And more. She’s been to the countries either side – Bangladesh and Pakistan – both for work, but they, for Carly at least, are full of wonderful and warm people but just don’t send a buzz down Carly’s spine in the same exuberant way. Yes, India draws Carly into its big and voluptuous heart. It is able to refresh and rejuvenate her in a way that few other places can. It is so very “out there”. Like Carly. Yes, they both have ginormous hearts and wear all their emotions singularly on their sleeves. No digging down deep needed. No trying to discover the meaning and truth of the actual reality. Sometimes​, for Carly, who lives and works in a very contained and constrained environment, this can be problematic. Carly is often to be found crying. Sometimes this can be perceived to be inappropriate. Especially by her daughter Boo who thinks all Carly’s release of emotion is just for effect. But Carly is like India. Everything is there on show. And sometimes embarrassing. No hidden layers. Obvious 24/7. Carly doesn’t sleep that much. India never does. And aren’t parents supposed to be disconcerting to their teenage children some of the time, questions Carly? 

  

Carly’s father wouldn’t let her go to India until she was 21. He wrote her a note and Carly still has it. She occasionally looks at it and for sure cherishes it. He was worried her immune system wouldn’t cope. But Carly is built like a brick. She is now in her mid-fifties and hasn’t had a fever for over two years. She has only had one day off work for gastroenteritis. And this is over a 30-year period employed as a doctor in a hospital working with countless numbers of infectious patients. Carly does sneeze a lot. But this is because she is allergic to tree pollen in the spring and wine in the evening. But that isn’t going to stop her from drinking. She loves the taste far too much. And sneezing is a physical sensation that she really loves to do. Especially now in the time of corona-gate. Everyone runs a mile when you sneeze. It is a great way to clear the area and get some peace. It reminds her of working in Selfridges department store when she was a student in the holidays, way back when. Whenever she wanted to clear the area, she would fart away. This would enable her to tidy up the merchandise. It worked a treat. Yet again, Carly has gone off on a complete tangent. Back to India. 

  

Carly had been planning a sabbatical for years. It is what is needed for your mental health when you work for the NHS​ ​(despite ​the fact you aren’t paid for this time off​). You are paid if you work for a university​, but then they stipulate what you do. So having time off without pay meant Carly could do exactly what she wanted! She had had her form signed for many years and she planned for it to start once her youngest child had turned 18 and was on her way to Uni. What she hadn’t planned was being a divorcee. But some things in life don’t work out despite meticulous planning. Even for control freaks such as Carly.  

  

She realised that there was a yearly Camel Fair in the hippy, dippy town of Pushkar in Rajasthan, in the first week of her planned sabbatical. Having a focus was a great starting point. And going alone for four months as a middle-aged woman was a tiny bit scary. Even for Carly who is pretty fearless. But even she is sometimes fearful of being alone. Although she is the consummate extrovert. She smiled to herself as there were no shortage of people in India. A population of around a billion surmised Carly. And many spoke English, Carly reassured herself. 

  

She’d been pretty friendly with Jacqui for several years. Like Carly, she had her own woes to deal with. Not crosses to bear as both are Jewish. But shit going on. Yes. True. Things for both of them. Carly suggested going together to the Camel Fair with her friend who immediately leapt at the chance. Then Carly was a bit worried. What happened if they got on each other’s nerves for the 10 days they would be together? But it should be ok thought Carly​, who speaks her mind. She remembered that Jacqui is a counsellor and so well versed in seeing what is really going on. Yes, it would be fine, Carly reassured herself.  

  

So, they booked themselves into three places to stay. In Jaipur – the pink city, Amber – near the world-famous fort and Pushkar – home to an annual camel festival. Due to financial constraints, they decided they would share a room. The places they stayed were exquisite and Jacqui soon also fell in love with India. They did the usual touristy stuff. But also met with jewellers who probably fleeced them and went to over-the-top Indian wedding shops​, although neither had planned to get married any time soon! At Amber Fort they went to a monumental sound and light show and also ate extraordinary meals in all manner of places​, including street food. Everywhere they went local tourists asked them to be in their photos. ​”One selfie please?” Soon Carly started asking for payments when all this nagging got a bit too much. The boot was on the other foot, and everyone laughed.  

  

Carly’s best memory of this part of her trip was trudging up from the quaint and wonderful Mosaic Guest House to the main road for a morning coffee. Jacqui and Carly sat on the roadside on tree stumps. The vendor had to make coffee especially for them as everyone else drank the local tea – chai. As with all milk in India it was boiled and boiled and then served in small terracotta disposable cups. These cost a bit more than the paper ones, but Carly kept them to use in some of her projects later. Whilst the friends sat there drinking their sumptuous coffees, they watched the progress of brightly painted elephants returning home from their morning work at Amber Fort. It was pure magic. There were so many and sometimes the procession stopped as the riders would break for a chai or a packet of crisps. This meant that they could inspect these magnificent animals whilst they were stationary. She knew they were living in a sanctuary and being well cared for. They only worked a few hours which was necessary as they had to eat for 18 hours a day. This was to digest all that green matter​, as they, unlike cows and sheep, only had one stomach. It did mean ​that they produced an enormous amount of dung​, but India, being a country of innovation, had a myriad of ways to utilise this. All round everyone was contented.  

  

In London, before she left, Carly told any unsuspecting believer that she was going to buy a camel at the Pushkar fair and travel around India that way for the next few months. Clearly this was ridiculous. Carly may be a lover of animals. Yes. But travelling around for hours on a camel​? Clearly no. However, at the fair she did meet a couple who ran a camel milk business which supported local farms to take care of these wonderful creatures. This was where Carly would head after a prolonged stay in spiritual Pushkar on her way down to the textile heaven that is Gujarat. The Ranakpur Camel Lodge was a beautiful place being managed by two employees who were both divorced. This is very unusual in India and made Carly feel very much at home. This was the first place she went to visit without Jacqui who had by then returned home.  

  

Carly was truly grateful to Jacqui for coming out to be with her at the beginning of her long trip to give her the courage and commitment to continue. Carly felt that Jacqui was the truest of friends. Like India is the truest of nations. That feels good, sighs Carly. 

One Friday night Carly dashes off. She cycles full pelter as she is late. She is off to friends for dinner, and they have kids so she mustn’t be late. She puts a few of her ​’Carly does​’ stories in her bag as this family are keen groupies of her written offerings. She feels that reading them out partly pays for her supper! She also puts in some Tradescantia plants and pots as a present. She just adores these “Wandering Jew” plants. She has her signature trademark pot. A slightly oversized food tin that she has protected with two coats of PVA glue. She tries hard to eat the contents but how much sorbet can you make from tinned jackfruit? Or humous from chickpeas? Sometimes she doesn’t even know what the contents are as they are from specialist shops which import them. Then she secretly throws them away. This was the case with two different jellies from China. Or maybe Korea? She just wants to use the tins as “bespoke” plant containers. 

Anyway, it was getting dark as winter was fast approaching. Carly has her trusty pedal-assist electric bike. With this device she has to do some of the cycling, but it makes getting up hills much less unappealing. She ponders. She is cycling from low Highbury to high Highgate. Bizarre. Both have “high” in their names, but one is erroneously named High​… and is low! How very strange. 

Off she went. It was all going swimmingly until she decided she would overtake a very slow cyclist on a regular bike. Carly is very impatient and was already running behind schedule. So, she made a bid to overtake him. She did think a bit about the road layout​, but clearly did not consider it properly. When you mount a pavement lip perpendicularly it is usually ok. But not if you try this whilst going parallel. It was dark so she didn’t really see the lip. Splat went Carly. It was all so very embarrassing. Especially as the bus passing her almost squashed her. The cyclist was super nice. He got Carly back on her feet and sorted out her bike. He insisted on cycling behind her until he was sure she was alright. When you are in your mid-50s falling over is really embarrassing. Oh, and painful. Lucky Carly was wearing her helmet as her head went crash too. And of course, she cried. She claimed that was an autonomic response to hitting her face. But really that is Carly. Always crying. And then because this man who she stupidly tried to overtake was being so nice​, she cried even more. 

Off Carly went to her friends. Late​, but victorious. She was developing a cool black and purple right eye. She gave them their plants, read her stories with aplomb and ate a wonderful meal. She does wonder about her relationship with this family. They have been really wonderful and supportive over a most difficult time in her life. But things seem to be unlucky. Besides this bike accident which really wasn’t their fault​, there was another time when they came round, used her hot tub and splashed so much Carly had to refill it. But being Carly, she got carried away with other things and left it for a few days before she remembered and went to turn off the faucet. Oh dear. It had completely soaked everything, and it cost a pretty penny to mend. Again, not really this family’s fault but still, mused Carly, a bit problematic, nonetheless. At least she positively influenced them to get a dog. But she must take some responsibility here. It was her dog that nipped one of their daughters when she was young and so ​she became canine-phobic. 

A week later, sporting a wonderful bruised right eye, Carly went on her first date with David. She had sent him a photo beforehand and explained. She mused that she matched the wonderful green and purple hues of her favourite Tradescantia plant. They got on really well having a coffee in Costa. She felt very relaxed and laughed and cried with him. She mused that for him, beauty could not be skin deep, or he would be revulsed by her. This was clearly true​, as they are still together many months on. 

So, her bruised face healed but her arm still hurt three weeks later. She decided to investigate further. She had an Xray and an ultrasound of her shoulder. She knows how to utilise the system as she works in a hospital. After the Xray the radiologist​, who knew Carly well​, asked what she thought of the images. Carly brazenly answered that it looked fine to her. She couldn’t see anything. But she did attest to the fact that this isn’t in her area of expertise. Mostly she sees young people with anxiety masking as medically unexplained symptoms. He stifled a laugh. No, no he exclaimed. You have a comminuted fracture of the right humeral tuberosity. She looked at him like he was talking ancient Greek. Yes, she had been to medical school, but broken bones weren’t really in her lexicon any more. The shoulder ultrasound confirmed the joint was not involved. Phew! considered Carly. That meant arthritis later on in her dominant arm was less likely. 

But there were some upsides. Carly is very competitive, and she is the first of her siblings to break a limb. Which is odd. One of her brothers played many hours of football. He seemed to be unable to score a goal without landing on the ground. It was part of his routine. That​ and being totally covered in grass stains at all times. The other brother was more memorable for being covered in shoe polish most of the time. He set up a business at school to polish shoes for charity. 5p for children’s shoes and 10p for adult ones. More memorable for looking like a chimney sweep at the end of the day​, rather than making a lot of money. 

So how did knowing she had broken her arm change things for Carly? Well not by very much. She had been at work and cycling for three weeks before she knew. It would be silly to use a sling now. The only tricky movement was turning the car steering wheel. So, she stuck to cycling until her bike was stolen – another saga for another story! 

Carly gets to meet a physio ​- Katie​, who gives her lots of appropriate exercises and encouragement. She also tells Carly that she needn’t be so harsh on herself as it takes a while for bones in older people to heal. Then Katie says she has been redeployed to work in intensive care (ITU) because the second Covid wave has just hit North London. So, the next time they meet is when they ​are coincidentally undertaking the same proning shift in ITU​, where they are in full PPE (Personal Protective Equipment) with masks and goggles. You really have no idea who is on your team. Sometimes you can’t even work out their gender or what their normal day jobs are. They have to log roll patients every 12 hours from back to front and back again. It is all very organised, but it takes eight people to do this as the patients are really enormous. 

Anyway, one of Carly’s roles is ​’ball release person​’. This is only when placing a male patient on his front. It reminds Carly of a hamster digging deep. Maybe more like a dog burying a bone. She has to separate the legs to release the testicles, so they aren’t squashed underneath the patient who isn’t awake. Carly enjoys doing this task and is a bit sad when her next patient is female. Just when she had found herself a unique role. 

Over time Carly can use her broken are more and more. Only extending her arm above her head during the “goddess” yoga pose proves painful and problematic. Apart from wining the ​‘Only Broken Bone Sibling Competition​’ and having a few weeks free from driving it hasn’t really made much of a difference. But it has made for a good story line! 

Carly has a number of rules that she would suggest you follow if you want to start dating. Particularly if you are that foxy silver haired woman in the prime of her life. Not really rules. That makes it sound like Carly is being a bit too didactic. More like sensible suggestions that she strongly urges you follow. But if you don’t, she won’t actually get that upset. She might be a bit miffed. Because in the back of her head is the mantra “Carly is always right” but she is new to the dating game and really, she is actually no expert. However, she is a person of strong opinions.

Number one is don’t start during a pandemic. Particularly if you are perceived as a “Dirty Covid Worker” like she was. But she does realise that personal circumstances about when you become free to date aren’t always on the global-absence-of-a-pandemic-register. Or whatever normal times are called. Can she even remember? Gosh thinks Carly – I do bloody hope so!

Don’t be picky or you may lose out on someone who is just right for you. Carly muses about this. She has rules to be followed and then to be broken – like being picky. For her, she has decided they must be male, Jewish and either divorced or widowed. She says to herself that if you are in your mid-50s, it is unlikely anyone would be single at this age and not be weird. She realises this is being “singlist”. But she does need some boundaries so that the dating choices don’t become overwhelming.

And on the other hand, she tells herself not to be too fussy. Oh gosh. It is like she is standing there with an apple in each hand. Weighing things up. Like dating rules. So, when she moves her right hand up, her left hand goes down in sympathy. Then back up the other way round. She is standing there with her arms wildly going up and down with an apple in each hand. Really, she just cannot decide what she should stick to! She doesn’t really like apples that much as it happens. Granny Smiths are too tart and really what is this obsession with Pink Ladies? Apples are often good for making into sauce to go with latkes. Really, she prefers sour cream. But as always Carly is getting distracted and away from the advice she is offering to those planning on dating.

She has decided on male as she isn’t interested in dating women. And Jewish because she can narrow the field and get some background reference checks. Carly has listened to some dreadful podcasts about men who have stolen from unsuspecting dates. She doesn’t want to be that trusting woman who is misled. And she is Jewish by the way!

Be glad if you aren’t a tall woman as this might open you up to more possibilities as there are plenty of men who would prefer to date someone shorter than them. Carly is short. A bit overweight and she did previously have very large breasts, but these have been trimmed down under the knife. Seemed like a good investment to go with the new Carly. She has one friend who only uses apps where the heights are recorded. She is forever swiping left (goodbye) as the men on the site are shorter than her. Carly’s grandfather was a lot shorter than her grandmother and her mother is taller than her father when she is wearing heals. So, Carly doesn’t really see what all the bother is about. They all had long marriages. Oh gosh. Don’t get Carly started on long marriages and whether all couples who remain together were happy below the surface.

An absolute rule is no kids on a first date. Why would Carly want to meet someone where the previous “woman” was so clearly present through her genetic off-spring? Meeting other people’s children is irritating enough thinks Carly. She is a paediatrician and so works with children. Why on earth would she want to be sweetness and light to them in her personal life as well? Certainly, no more than the bare minimum. She does even begin to wonder why she is a paediatrician? Aren’t they supposed to like kids? She even has mixed feelings about her own offspring sometimes!

Carly advises that you ask the dates you meet to be honest and let you know what you need to remove or boost on your dating profile information. How truthful should you be about yourself on these apps, thinks Carly? She has used some photos that are a teensy bit out of date. Well 10 years. Is this terrible? Carly says to herself that this is probably not a probity issue that she needs to declare on her tedious yearly appraisal paperwork. Just a bit of poetic license. Actually, photographic license!

Be suspicious of people who don’t put up any photos at all of themselves – just their pets or worst still their football team. Or they are always wearing sunglasses – just as bad and very pretentious.

Make sure that you dress appropriately reasons Carly. She always makes an effort on a first date. She has a special first date dress she bought in a clothes swish. Very fancy and only a tenner! Carly does like to be mindful of her spend. Carly feels she needs to be with people who have at least some hobbies. Just watching TV doesn’t count. But she realises that she doesn’t want to be with someone just like her with similar pastimes. Carly is fervent about knitting. She doesn’t want to share her yarn obsession with a date who is likely to have mediocre feelings just to rub along with her. He must have his own interests and passions.

And then Carly thinks about sport. She keeps fit with her yoga and cycling but really isn’t much bothered about watching it. But for sure Carly doesn’t want to meet men who have swiped right because they realise, she lives in Highbury and so would have easy parking for an Arsenal game at the nearby Emirates Stadium.

Another absolute no no is men who, for whatever reason, do not see one or more of their kids. Carly feels that they have to fight for them and whatever has happened there needs to be forgiveness with unstinting love and support. Carly thinks that however bitter the split between this new man in her life and his previous partner, the children cannot be the fallout of this acrimony.

Before using dating apps Carly tried to encourage friends and family to introduce her to men the old-fashioned way. But this didn’t really work out. This antiquated way of doing things seems to have fallen by the wayside. Carly felt rather miffed. Why was everything stacked against her?

Then she worked it out. Everyone uses dating apps. The young and the old. Even those with truckloads of people they could meet in person. Carly’s younger children were at university where we can assume the supply of meeting people in person is plentiful. But they still use dating apps.

Carly did have one friend who did say she would arrange an introduction in person. Despite regular prodding from Carly who is an expert and professional nagger, her friend said she hadn’t seen this divorced man for ages and felt she should ask him over for supper before she could introduce him to Carly. But she was clearly hesitant, and Carly took things into her own hands. Carly is both impatient and tenacious. She would look him up and ask him out. She thought carefully what she said in her email and then boom off it went flying into the ether. The speedy reply was a firm thanks but no! On another occasion Carly petitioned the chair of her hospital. She met on the pretense of talking about the work environment but then Carly came clean. Surely this woman who had been the rabbi of a large synagogue in London must know someone looking?  The chair shook her head and had no one in mind. She did actually try to find someone who might measure up to Carly’s exacting standards and replied several months later the fields were indeed fallow. Crestfallen, Carly returned to the trusty apps.

Of course, with apps when you firstly meet someone you need to reply with witty messages. It was plainly difficult for Carly to always get this right. So, if she rather liked someone, Carly would move to speaking on the phone or use video calls as soon as possible. If these went well, meeting in person was really the quickest way to get the measure of a potential boyfriend.

Carly feels this is helpful advice on dating. She should know as she has dated quite a few people despite it being a pandemic. She is keen that you know, however, that she is neither loose nor a floozy.

Imprisoning objects is something I did during my sabbatical in India 4 years ago. I enjoy it and it speaks to me. Whilst away for a short break in Puebla, Mexico, I found a load of purple cosmetics and imprisoned them. Here they are. I started this project in February 2024. But then I found more purple adornments and things that could be associated with beautification in women. And men. I have added some more imprisoned cosmetics in September 2024 at the end.

And some excellent thoughts on this work from my dear friend YH.

I recently showed my work to Yasmeen. She has given me some very useful and exciting insights and I have added them in italics where appropriate. Thanks YH!

This one is a good representation of how I feel when I’m wearing makeup. Like I can’t move my face freely, can’t touch it, and I’m so concerned about it falling off or being in the right place, that I don’t feel comfortable to even enjoy the beauty it gives me. I’ll head home early, take it off and feel so relieved. Kind of like the feeling of removing a bra at the end of a tough day.

This one makes me think, what even is beauty? Society’s definition of beauty changes every few years. When I was younger, it was an ugly thing to be seen as “witch-like”. That included big noses, dark features, black clothes, potions, and… long spiky nails. Actually, many of these are stereotypes of Jewish women of course, or women who were too smart, or had been excluded from society after being raped or widowed and had learn their own ways to heal with herbal remedies. Men feared them. Long spiky nails is now a power statement. It means I am in control, I have intelligence that men fear, and don’t underestimate me or I might put a curse on you. Now times have changed significantly… we can vote, we have birth control, we can protect ourselves from an abusive husband… but we don’t have equality yet. We’re still in a world ran by men. They daren’t give us equal rights, because they are afraid of our power. 

Nail varnish is seen as an unimportant topic. However, I find it empowering. When I have my nails painted I feel that my life is together and sorted. No matter what shit I am going through. I can look at my nails and think, everything will be ok. I have only been doing my nails for past few months, but it really gives me confidence that I’m put together. Nail varnish seems like such a shallow and trivial topic to discuss. Why is that? Who decided that to be the case? Is it men? Probably not, I think in fact many men compliment my nails more than women. Perhaps because they can see a pretty colour, think it looks nice and so they compliment it. What I think it comes down to is that women think they have to adapt and mould themselves into a “man’s world”, and therefore talking about shade of nails isn’t fitting to that image they want to paint of themselves. In actual fact, I think many men would like the opportunity to decorate their body with colours and be more creative and express their personality more, but that neither isn’t seen as the “done thing” in our society. 

When moving around the eyeshadow cosmetic imprisonment was trashed! So I redid it. This is how I have prepared them for framing – sewing them using purple thread on my machine.

This one I have spoken about before, but I’d like to dive a bit deeper. Tying your hair back has so many symbols, from getting your hair out of your face so you can focus, to tying it back so it doesn’t look unruly, but also tying it back so that you don’t catch nits. As kids we were told that tying our hair back protects it from getting knotty, now as an adult I understand that tying my hair back damages it, breaks the hair, teaches it to grow in unhealthy directions, causing hair loss later on, especially if you tie it too tight. In extreme scenarios like ballet and the military, where a perfect appearance is required, you have a tight tight bun and smooth the edges with thick gel, also bad for your hair health. Why do we even want to contain our hair? Its something so beautiful. A way to express ourselves. A symbol of our femininity. Hair bands seems something so innocent, but they can be so harmful. 

These one-time-use products are not just one-time because they are easy to throw away, but it actually cannot be used more than once. Their functionality is incredibly limited. You put the purple colour, and then you can’t put another colour, the colours would mix. Once you’ve cleaned your ear, you’re not going to use it again the next day, its dirty and that would be unhygienic. We blame these one-time products, but there’s no other way to use them. We can blame the manufacturers, but as long as people keep buying them, we’re voting to keep them going. We’re constrained by our own habits. 

It also means that each ear cleaner only have has a single purpose. It makes their life very simple. They have 1 colour to paint. 1 ear to clean. No expectations of anything more. No depth or complexity. Or maybe the depths of our problems are so close that we can’t see the depth and complexity of seemingly trivial items. Maybe our brains couldn’t cope with that. Maybe we are tied down with the complexity of our lives, we can’t appreciate the trivial.

Every time a woman takes off her makeup, its a relief, it is wrapping up of another day. Whether she was laughing, crying, listening, shouting, singing… at the end of the day the makeup comes off and tomorrow a new day will begin. The used sponges are like a photo album that contains memories, but instead it holds the emotions and feelings the woman went through that day. It would be interested to test the sponges for pheromones, you’d get all the emotions of the rainbow, just like all the range of colours you see on the sponges.

I think this item triggers a lot of emotion for many women. We’re told that we must remove all our hair except on our head and eyebrows. Pain is beauty. But its not just pain. It’s time, effort, precision, practice. So many things go into being beautiful for a man. The man is always frustrated that we take so long to get ready. But they don’t realise their privilege that all they need to do is shower and put clothes on. Yet, they insist in reinforcing this tradition. If you ask them how they prefer a woman, natural or plucked and pruned, they are conditioned to prefer the later. So the cycle will continue. 

I’d quite like to get botox. Why? Because I frown a lot, and then go in the sun, and then I get white lines in between my eyebrows and I don’t like it. So then when I’m in the sun I stress to make sure I’m not frowning instead of enjoying my day. However, I understand that botox can be a lifetime commitment. The more you do it, your muscles weaken and can’t hold themselves up, and then your “need” for it is even stronger. You’re tied down by the cycle. 

I have really enjoyed doing this project. I am not sure cosmetics are the plight of women as many men wear makeup. Are they forced? I am not sure.

A total so far (13th September 2024) of 29. A good wholesome prime number and the door number of my penultimate address in London before moving to live in Israel.

My niece and her wife had a baby whilst I was in Puebla, Mexico. I found a beautifully embroidered dog and named him Carlos. He went on a whole raft of adventures before he met their baby. Here he is from the photobook I made of his journeying.

Carlos carries on his journey with Rafi now and so far he has been around London and made it to Brighton too!

Carly has been married a long time but now she is getting divorced as she and Ades are no longer compatible. Carly is in a hurry to tell everyone. This is her nature. To rush around and tell everyone everything. She wears her heart on her sleeve and is very busy crying and being miserable. Carly and Ades decide they are going to tell their children first. And with all of them together after a weekend lunch. But their children decide to have a row. About politics. Grrrrrrrrrrr, thinks Carly. She really cannot abide politics and here it is screwing things up for again for her. She has had to endure endless soliloquies by Ades at every meal about politics. He feels it is a broad topic that appeals to everyone. Carly doesn’t agree. It isn’t that she wants to talk about her hobbies or even hobby horses. But she zones out when Ades drones on about politics. Her sons humour him and are willing to discuss these issues. Her daughter is less interested. Anyway, back to the divorce. In terms of telling the children, Ades would rather wait. As always. But Carly has decided that today is the day and so it will be. Before one of their children storms off to their bedroom Carly says that they have something very important to say to them. Ades then dives in. Actually, he isn’t really a diving sort of person. Carly is. Ades just clears his throat and begins. 

Firstly, he tells them they are getting divorced. Carly supposes that as he is a lawyer, the hard facts are best. None of dressing it up and saying they are having a trial of separation. When they aren’t. Facts trump feelings. Hmmmmmmmmmmm thinks Carly. Maybe she should have done the telling? But she felt he might say it better as he is a lawyer. Second up, he tells them neither of them have had extra-marital affairs. This means that the children aren’t more annoyed with one parent than the other. Thirdly he tells them it is not their fault and they both love them all. Fourthly he tells them he isn’t getting any therapy or counselling, so best not to go there. By this stage Carly is nearly bursting. She tells them she will be getting therapy, lots of it and she wants to find someone else who will love her. She wants it to be clear from the outset that she does want to find another partner. The youngest two cry and the oldest runs around comforting them. Then they all go to their rooms and hide in their beds as is usual for teenagers. Everyone is pretty wiped out.  

Later on, that afternoon, Carly suggests that she goes on a cycle with her daughter Boo who is the youngest. Off they go, pedalling like fury. Boo has obviously thought about the situation and wants to discuss three things with Carly. In fact, they are more like demands as this seems like a good time for Boo to get the outcomes she desires. This is a clever strategy considering Carly’s fragile state. Carly is a bit bemused as she erroneously thought Boo might be delicate. Not at all. Yet again, she got that wrong!  

Firstly, Boo tells her Carly cannot become a lesbian. Carly thinks seriously about this suggest but cannot commit to that. Well not yet. She hasn’t even given it much thought as, till now, she has never fancied any women, but she doesn’t want to decide at this very early stage of separation. It maybe rather nice to be a lesbian, muses Carly. Or maybe bisexual? She really doesn’t know. But for certain she doesn’t want to commit to something now that she might want to revoke later. For sure Boo will not forget her mother’s assurances of her sexuality and then hold it against her and cite it as an example of changing her mind. Oh yes. Yet another instance of poor parenting for her children to remember and note down with the many other examples. 

Secondly, she tells Carly she cannot have any hoes in the bed. Carly cannot understand why she would have gardening tools in the bed in the first place? Then she asks Boo for clarification who patiently explains that hoes are people you pay for sex. Why would she pay for sex? She can agree to that demand. Because to be honest, sex is far from her mind at the moment. And actually, is paying for sex so terrible? Hmmmmmmmmmmm ponders Carly. Really, she is very naïve about these matters. She will have to ask around. But maybe in a little while. 

Thirdly, she asks Carly if she could please have a seven-year-old stepsister as she did always want a younger sibling (female if possible). Carly is glad to be asked this question but really it is an impossibility. Carly tells Boo to ask her father for that one. Really Carly feels she is done with parenting, and she spends all her time with other people’s children at work. Carly is a paediatrician and doesn’t particularly want other people’s children in her personal life. Certainly not in response to a request for a younger sister by her daughter. That degree of cow tailing to her daughter’s demands feels overwhelming and, in this time of stress, Carly needs to look after herself first. 

Carly’s sons unsurprisingly respond in very different ways too. But one thing is for sure. Divorce and lockdown have meant the kids are now closer. Of course, they still fight. A lot. Gosh how tedious, Carly notes. 

Carly then talks to her own siblings. Her sister is very supportive and promises to go with her when Carly tells their parents. One brother is very sympathetic and understanding. All his wife’s family are divorced or should be! He knows the ropes and will guide Carly should she need this. Her other brother is horrified. He just doesn’t do divorce. He comes round very soon after the announcement to try and mediate between Carly and Ades. He has a misguided notion that divorce is only bad. Really, he remonstrates with Carly. Firstly, you just need to be nicer to Ades – he did always look up and admire him. And secondly, no one over 50 ever finds another partner. “I’ll show him” says Carly thinking about which dating apps she is going to download first. Carly is very competitive, and she will show her little brother what nonsense he is talking. But maybe she needs to let the dust settle a little first. 

Then Carly goes off with her sister to talk to their parents. They are quite shocked to begin with. Then their mother starts talking about religion. And how it gets tricky if a married couple both have different expectations and opinions. Carly can see why her mother is following this particular line but this isn’t the reason. Carly sighs but decides now is not the time to explain this.  

Over the next few months Carly’s parents are very comforting and supportive to her. But Carly’s mother remains very concerned about Carly’s impending divorce settlement. She keeps asking who is going to keep the silver. The candlesticks, the cutlery and the napkin rings. Carly’s father says he knows that Carly has been miserable for years. He tells her to get on with the business of getting divorced. Carly listens to them both. Maybe the silver will pay for the divorce lawyers. Some hope. There wasn’t that much silver in the first place. 

Carly tries to explain about the divorce to her pets. That really was just plain puerile. Cats behave as they always do. Wandering off when really Carly would like to stroke them. Cleaning themselves for hours. And meowing in the middle of the night to come in or out for no reason other than they can. The dogs aren’t much better. They are just glad to get to go out for walks. Who walks them or feeds them is neither here nor there? For the pets, life isn’t much different. 

Carly has lots of cousins. On both sides. Some are happily married, some not and others divorced. Everyone gives their advice. Some of it is useful and some of it is not. Carly has to steer a path so that she is braced by their love and guidance but not overwhelmed by their insistence of her following their advice. One cousin based in New York is really fabulous. He texts her every week on a Sunday for an entire year. This is great. It is lovely to be held in this way. Other cousins take her out to dinner and still other’s wait a while and send messages many months on. This is actually very helpful as Carly can see just how far she has come over time. Still crying but not falling apart anymore. This is good. And time is a healer as everyone knows. Shame it takes so very long. Carly still isn’t very patient! 

17 Carly explains to her family she is getting divorced 

Carly has been married a long time but now she is getting divorced as she and Ades are no longer compatible. Carly is in a hurry to tell everyone. This is her nature. To rush around and tell everyone everything. She wears her heart on her sleeve and is very busy crying and being miserable. Carly and Ades decide they are going to tell their children first. And with all of them together after a weekend lunch. But their children decide to have a row. About politics. Grrrrrrrrrrr, thinks Carly. She really cannot abide politics and here it is screwing things up for again for her. She has had to endure endless soliloquies by Ades at every meal about politics. He feels it is a broad topic that appeals to everyone. Carly doesn’t agree. It isn’t that she wants to talk about her hobbies or even hobby horses. But she zones out when Ades drones on about politics. Her sons humour him and are willing to discuss these issues. Her daughter is less interested. Anyway, back to the divorce. In terms of telling the children, Ades would rather wait. As always. But Carly has decided that today is the day and so it will be. Before one of their children storms off to their bedroom Carly says that they have something very important to say to them. Ades then dives in. Actually, he isn’t really a diving sort of person. Carly is. Ades just clears his throat and begins. 

Firstly, he tells them they are getting divorced. Carly supposes that as he is a lawyer, the hard facts are best. None of dressing it up and saying they are having a trial of separation. When they aren’t. Facts trump feelings. Hmmmmmmmmmmm thinks Carly. Maybe she should have done the telling? But she felt he might say it better as he is a lawyer. Second up, he tells them neither of them have had extra-marital affairs. This means that the children aren’t more annoyed with one parent than the other. Thirdly he tells them it is not their fault and they both love them all. Fourthly he tells them he isn’t getting any therapy or counselling, so best not to go there. By this stage Carly is nearly bursting. She tells them she will be getting therapy, lots of it and she wants to find someone else who will love her. She wants it to be clear from the outset that she does want to find another partner. The youngest two cry and the oldest runs around comforting them. Then they all go to their rooms and hide in their beds as is usual for teenagers. Everyone is pretty wiped out.  

Later on, that afternoon, Carly suggests that she goes on a cycle with her daughter Boo who is the youngest. Off they go, pedalling like fury. Boo has obviously thought about the situation and wants to discuss three things with Carly. In fact, they are more like demands as this seems like a good time for Boo to get the outcomes she desires. This is a clever strategy considering Carly’s fragile state. Carly is a bit bemused as she erroneously thought Boo might be delicate. Not at all. Yet again, she got that wrong!  

Firstly, Boo tells her Carly cannot become a lesbian. Carly thinks seriously about this suggest but cannot commit to that. Well not yet. She hasn’t even given it much thought as, till now, she has never fancied any women, but she doesn’t want to decide at this very early stage of separation. It maybe rather nice to be a lesbian, muses Carly. Or maybe bisexual? She really doesn’t know. But for certain she doesn’t want to commit to something now that she might want to revoke later. For sure Boo will not forget her mother’s assurances of her sexuality and then hold it against her and cite it as an example of changing her mind. Oh yes. Yet another instance of poor parenting for her children to remember and note down with the many other examples. 

Secondly, she tells Carly she cannot have any hoes in the bed. Carly cannot understand why she would have gardening tools in the bed in the first place? Then she asks Boo for clarification who patiently explains that hoes are people you pay for sex. Why would she pay for sex? She can agree to that demand. Because to be honest, sex is far from her mind at the moment. And actually, is paying for sex so terrible? Hmmmmmmmmmmm ponders Carly. Really, she is very naïve about these matters. She will have to ask around. But maybe in a little while. 

Thirdly, she asks Carly if she could please have a seven-year-old stepsister as she did always want a younger sibling (female if possible). Carly is glad to be asked this question but really it is an impossibility. Carly tells Boo to ask her father for that one. Really Carly feels she is done with parenting, and she spends all her time with other people’s children at work. Carly is a paediatrician and doesn’t particularly want other people’s children in her personal life. Certainly not in response to a request for a younger sister by her daughter. That degree of cow tailing to her daughter’s demands feels overwhelming and, in this time of stress, Carly needs to look after herself first. 

Carly’s sons unsurprisingly respond in very different ways too. But one thing is for sure. Divorce and lockdown have meant the kids are now closer. Of course, they still fight. A lot. Gosh how tedious, Carly notes. 

Carly then talks to her own siblings. Her sister is very supportive and promises to go with her when Carly tells their parents. One brother is very sympathetic and understanding. All his wife’s family are divorced or should be! He knows the ropes and will guide Carly should she need this. Her other brother is horrified. He just doesn’t do divorce. He comes round very soon after the announcement to try and mediate between Carly and Ades. He has a misguided notion that divorce is only bad. Really, he remonstrates with Carly. Firstly, you just need to be nicer to Ades – he did always look up and admire him. And secondly, no one over 50 ever finds another partner. “I’ll show him” says Carly thinking about which dating apps she is going to download first. Carly is very competitive, and she will show her little brother what nonsense he is talking. But maybe she needs to let the dust settle a little first. 

Then Carly goes off with her sister to talk to their parents. They are quite shocked to begin with. Then their mother starts talking about religion. And how it gets tricky if a married couple both have different expectations and opinions. Carly can see why her mother is following this particular line but this isn’t the reason. Carly sighs but decides now is not the time to explain this.  

Over the next few months Carly’s parents are very comforting and supportive to her. But Carly’s mother remains very concerned about Carly’s impending divorce settlement. She keeps asking who is going to keep the silver. The candlesticks, the cutlery and the napkin rings. Carly’s father says he knows that Carly has been miserable for years. He tells her to get on with the business of getting divorced. Carly listens to them both. Maybe the silver will pay for the divorce lawyers. Some hope. There wasn’t that much silver in the first place. 

Carly tries to explain about the divorce to her pets. That really was just plain puerile. Cats behave as they always do. Wandering off when really Carly would like to stroke them. Cleaning themselves for hours. And meowing in the middle of the night to come in or out for no reason other than they can. The dogs aren’t much better. They are just glad to get to go out for walks. Who walks them or feeds them is neither here nor there? For the pets, life isn’t much different. 

Carly has lots of cousins. On both sides. Some are happily married, some not and others divorced. Everyone gives their advice. Some of it is useful and some of it is not. Carly has to steer a path so that she is braced by their love and guidance but not overwhelmed by their insistence of her following their advice. One cousin based in New York is really fabulous. He texts her every week on a Sunday for an entire year. This is great. It is lovely to be held in this way. Other cousins take her out to dinner and still other’s wait a while and send messages many months on. This is actually very helpful as Carly can see just how far she has come over time. Still crying but not falling apart anymore. This is good. And time is a healer as everyone knows. Shame it takes so very long. Carly still isn’t very patient! 

The song Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes often goes through Carly’s head. It was something she regularly sang to her children when they were toddlers. The other line Eyes and Ears and Mouth and Nose also made her think. Obviously, Carly has other parts of her body that she can talk about. But where to start? Carly does like to be ordered and organised. So here she goes using the alphabet. She then wonders if she has 26 body parts she can talk about? She is sure there is some bone beginning with an x.  

This whole quest started off with a knitting adventure. Carly is an expert knitter and likes purple. She had three balls of yarn but no pattern. She knitted a purple yoke that had 4 uses. A shoulder warmer, snood, skirt and breast cover up. A colleague looked at it in skirt mode and laughed. He told Carly it was far too short as she had clearly run out of yarn. Harrumph thought Carly – what would an orthopaedic surgeon know about skirts? Bloody not very much. So, for sure she has a “y”.   

So, let’s start thinks Carly. At the beginning which as she knew from Maria in “The Sound of Music” is a very good place to start. 

Armpits. Carly has an issue here. Actually, her family do and think she must shave them. But Carly thought why would she be made with such a defect? So, she did a randomised controlled trial. Her left one was lush and hairy and the right shaven leaving the skin silky smooth. She took her clothes off at the end of the day. Voila – no difference in smell. She then wandered around in vest tops and people thought Carly should be incarcerated for only shaving one. Little did they know about her trial.  

Breasts. Carly had very big bozonkas. Her brothers called them dangling coconuts. Her sister watermelons. She rather liked them. She could even get her nipples to kiss together side to side. But eventually Carly had had enough. On 21.2.19 (a good day because the maths works [21-2=19]) she had 750 g removed from each.  

Chromosomes. Like all humans she shares 50% of her DNA with bananas. Not good as she isn’t keen on yellow. Carly did recently have a genetic test performed by 23andme. This showed she had exemplary genetics. Nothing to worry about. Phew. 

Much as she likes dimples, she has none. And pleasingly no dandruff.  

Carly has green eyes which look more intense when she cries. And this is a lot. Once when she was going to be a surgeon way back when she was asked what her worst fault was. She was told the standard response is that I never let go of unfinished jobs and carry on till the bitter end. Instead, she replied she cried a lot. The panel were aghast. They asked her how she stopped crying. Easy peasy she said. You look at yourself in a mirror and it became a scientific experiment and hey presto you stop. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t get the job. Surgeons bawling their eyes out? doesn’t go with the territory. 

Carly is happy with her face. Well for the most part. Now she has too many wrinkles and uses a special costly serum to keep them in abeyance. But she does like how much expression humans can make with their face. And reminds her teenage children regularly that you use half the muscles to smile compared to frowning. It really doesn’t seem to get through. Carly sighs.  

Carly attacks her gums everyday with her electric toothbrush. Then she goes to the dentist who is forever pointing out that she is missing some parts and over doing in others. And this always changes. Poor teeth and gums. Really something you can never excel at. And spending 10 minutes brushing twice a day. Forget it. Carly is far too busy to do this boring business.  

Head or heart? Carly isn’t sure which is more important. But then she has to side with head. All emotions do actually come from within your brain and not really from your heart. This is a misnomer. A heart is just a muscle. Much needed and completely reliable. But it doesn’t make her be Carly. This is her head. Phew Carly is pleased she has gone for head over heart. 

Intestines. Very important for Carly who loves eating. Top must be chocolate buttons. Really any chocolate. She is out of control when chocolate is available. Luckily, she has intestines well able to cope. Sometimes she spoons in Nutella at night when no one is watching. Do other people do that, questions Carly?  

Carly does have some problems with her joints. Particularly her back. Things are better since she does daily yoga but her back still hurts a lot of the time. This is probably because of her sedentary life. She wonders if she would be a good hunter-gatherer. Probably not. She is rubbish with a bow and arrow. Not much better with a gun. Better stick to knitting and being intellectual! Oh, who is she kidding. So pretentious.  

Kidneys. Now these are a rather boring pair of organs. She has done a number of renal jobs. But they are predictable, and they aren’t crucial. That is the point of dialysis which takes up so much of your time. You could probably get thought a lot of podcasts. Maybe best to keep them nice and healthy.  

Lips are for talking and kissing. This is something that Carly came to quite late in the day. Her friends said it was different with expert kissers. Not teenagers who really had no clue. She also likes to adorn them with lipstick. She applies it like her grandmother. Only to the bottom lip and then pull them both in and smooch around to spread evenly. It works a treat and the lippy lasts twice as long.  

Carly doesn’t have a moustache, thankfully.  

And she did pierce her nose when she was 53. It was on a whim. Then her daughter told her it was time to change the jewelled piercing, but this wasn’t good advice. She couldn’t manage to replace it. So, she put in an earring for a bit and then found a very thin nose ring. Carly did a survey. Pretty much everyone had their left nostril pierced. She wondered why?  

Carly’s ovaries have now packed up. But they did a good job in their heyday. Shame she thought but everything has a place and time. Ho hum.  

Sometimes Carly feels her pulse. She really has no idea why. She knows that if she is sentient enough to feel this then she must be alive. Maybe she just wants to remind herself what she learnt in medical school? Actually, she uses it as a way of calming herself down. Yes, that is it.  

Carly cycles all over the show and so has a mean pair of quadriceps. This is rather pleasing, she muses. After all, her legs get her from A to B. But they aren’t model’s legs to be honest. 

Carly likes to use the correct terms for her fingers. Index, middle, little and ring. On the underground she has always been obsessed to see if people are married and wear a wedding band. This has been for a long as she can remember. Really this is weird but we all probably have silly fascinations we cannot understand or justify.  

Recently Carly was trying to overtake a right slow coach on his bike. She misjudged the road and splat went Carly. But she was late and cycled off. Once her black eye had healed, she couldn’t understand why her shoulder still hurt. An Xray answered that question. A comminuted facture of the right humeral tuberosity. Sounded fancy. Bloody hurt!  

Carly wouldn’t be without her toes to paint in luscious colours. Shame they are a bit wonky and overlapping now. But she can still easily reach to cut her nails. Phew not too incapacitated yet. 

Her uterus has served her well. Hosting lots of embryos and bringing three fetuses to term. Job well done. Thanks, says Carly, gratefully.  

Being a doctor means Carly is often looking at people’s veins. This is a throwback to when she often used to take blood and insert cannulas. Carly has nice veins, she thinks, stroking them lovingly. 

Carly isn’t so enamoured of her waist. Maybe all women of her age have the same problem. Best not to be too harsh on oneself she contemplates.  

The xiphoid process is well known to Carly. When she was in her 20s and working as an emergency doctor, she was in charge of getting sossled patients who were snoring off their hangovers out of the department when the morning team came on. Applying pressure on this area in the chest wall was super painful and she was able to wake them all up. Off they trotted. Carly felt pleased she could do her job effectively. 

The yoke Carly knitted using the Japanese pattern Makiko was for keeping various organs warm and started off this whole escapade.  

Carly thinks about her fertility journey. First there were eggs and sperm, then zygotes, afterwards embryos and finally fetuses. And now they are grumpy teenagers. But not all the time. And they need to fly the nest and make their own zygotes.  

Carly realises that these aren’t all organs, but they are to do with her body. She must look after it and love it till the day she dies and goes into a woollen, hand knitted coffin decorated with purple beads, lace and ribbons. Cool.