God bless America....particularly my father in law's neighbour.

We got a parcel today, not your average parcel, a great big, hard to lift parcel that came from my father in laws next door neighbour. She moved in right before I left and darn it isn't that just the typical bloody way things happen. I liked her immediately, loved her really and my heart wept a bit after having been in the house next door for so long feeling wretched.
I love my father in law, he is divine, undemanding, generous to a fault, completely unintrusive and just a jolly good sort all 'round. Grandpa's house is filled with love and infinitely welcoming, but it ramshackle and has very obviously been a batchelors house for 30 plus years.
I would feel disloyal to go into too much detail but it wasn't the house that had me wretched, it was my brother in law. He made life a living hell and made me wish on many occasion that he would either disappear in a puff of smoke or I would wake up back in good old England having never clapped eyes on the miserable sod.
Anyway, my time there was pretty much surrounded by males ( all with ex wives which, as pointed out by my then 12 year old niece, wasn't in the least bit a surprise was it?) I like to think I'm a friendly sort, love to up and go and have day trips and meet people and cook lovely lunches and chat and laugh. Not much room for that while I was at grandpa's house.....then suddenly, here was Marilyn with kids the same age as my little boys and friendly, with a house I would love to have sat in and gossiped, planned the revenge on the mean brother in law and just, well, just be. But we were already leaving.
So, when we moved we stayed in touch and she is my friend, just as I knew she would be.
She watches out for grandpa and helps him book his flights when he visits us, makes sure he has company on the holidays ( wouldn't you know the brother in law has snagged himself a girlfriend and is getting married, now living with her parents and grandpa is without him...the very thought of being there without the misery and with Marilyn next door is heavenly!!)
Anyway, having lost a huge and incredibly impressive amount of weight this year she sent me all her bigger clothes, a mountain of boys clothes still with the tags on and my Isaac, my boy who wears the same clothes day after day and week after week, clapped eyes on these clothes and lawks a mercy- if he isn't in love with a stack of them... " Oooh. me. LUFF. auntie. Mali-min. send. me. close. what. me. luff. a wear. me. wear. lat .Nemo. shirt. a .my. party." ( my Isaac's speech, coming on in leaps and bounds sounds like he puts a full stop after every word , exhausting for him I should think.) OH SWEET joy, he won't be wearing the almost worn out, thready, pulled England football shirt that is his very, very best and only favourite until today. Will he really be wearing a brand new, sharp creased, Nemo shirt in colours so bright and vivid he looks beyond glorious?
What about me? Well...for heavens sake I think England is loathe to admit that there are any fat people. A few shameful shops with oversized clothes with over sized prices that scream of shame and dullness....or of course we can buy XXL mens shirts in black or white or red. Great, fat and butch, perfect.
God Bless America for having great shirts in regular shops that fit big people and that can be worn just every day, bright colours, nice colours, pretty even....yes, PRETTY, BIG clothes, imagine! And my friend Marilyn has sent me a veritable plethora of pink, blue, red, aqua, lacy, sporty..you name it, its here and it all fits and I feel a bit gorgeous and not a little grand having a wardrobe I can stand in front of and wonder what I can wear instead of thinking "here we go, what shall I drag on and cringe in today then?"
Hoorah..one of my favourite things whilst living in L.A. was to peruse the clothes rails, tut and say to myself "humph...FAR too big, can't possibly buy that" The simple things in life are so often the best!
I haven't given up on losing weight myself of course, only this weekend I bought at a knock down price of £3, a lateral thigh toner...marvellous thing, you step up on it and it's like a step machine only the feet bits go sideways as well as up and down...my sons have had the most fabulous time on it, one on each foot and one straddling and all together they squeal "WHEEEEEEEEE" while one goes up and to the right and one goes down and to the left and the other barely makes it through laughing like a drain....my thighs haven't felt the benefit yet but my belly muscles have had a good work out laughing at them all!
So...happy day today, before the parcel arrived we had spent the morning at a great park, had a picnic and the boys played in the river throwing stones and splashing whilst in the shadows of a manor house. God bless America for having fat ladies clothes but hoorah for England for having parks we can play in that are in the grounds of stately and somewhat grand old homes. Ain't the world a great place at times?