Word of advice for any mothers of teenage daughter's . . .

. . . Never, Never, Never - under any circumstances . . . borrow their shoes!.

To be fair, I had borrowed these particular shoes before but there wasn't a great deal of walking involved when I wore them previously.  I chose them last night because they were the highest I could lay my hands on and I felt that each inch might make my 'big legs' appear smaller.  I have to say (and I may as well, no-one else did) I looked ok when I teetered out of the Hotel room and down to reception where I learned - to my horror - that the venue was 'only a five minute walk away' and with that the couple in the know (and in the sensible shoes) took off with Andrew trying to stay in visual contact and me trying to stay in . . . well in grabbing contact!.

The walk was ever so slightly, uphill and pavements are not. as I learned - flat.  They slope towards the road and then, just as you've got you're balance sorted they change and slope the other way.  When you think you've mastered the paving stones Birmingham has placed these areas covered in raised rocks, then there are the pedestrian crossings with little green men who have clearly never worn heels and wait 'till you hit the middle of the road before turning red!

Now Birmingham holds a German market at this time of year which, in wellies is quite festive!.  This market is obviously open later than the shops because crowds of people were still leaving the city centre armed with bags of shopping, as we hit the 'cobbled streets' where the market is held, my ankles, simultaneously gave way and my legs came to a very abrupt stop unfortunately/fortunately, I don't know, I guess it could have been worse but I was still holding onto Andrew's arm and he, in an effort to keep the sensible shoe brigade in sight was still moving forward - I'm sure you can visualize where this left me! the worst of this was the looks I was getting from the Christmas shoppers, I could feel them thinking 'fancy being in that state so early' as hard as I tried, at the speed we were going I just couldn't get the shoes back under the soles of my feet - I must have looked like bambi on ice and the fact that Andrew arrived with 2 sleeves attached to his jacket was a miracle!.


When we finally reached the hotel we were directed to the wrong bar, which was just as well because I fell through the door.  The 'right' bar was still fairly empty and Andrew was able to position me in the corner while he went to get a drink, I don't often drink but I decided that as I had the appearance of a drunk I may as well have a couple!.  Thankfully it wasn't long before we went in to eat and I was able to sit down and restore a little dignity.  Of course the inevitable eventually happened and I had to pay a visit to the ladies, for this I was on my own and staggered across the wide open space like a circus tightrope walker.  When I got back Andrew said one of the daftest things I have ever heard him say 'shall we dance' - dance! - I couldn't stand.  He wasn't taking no and I was pulled up, dragged to the middle of the dance floor and balanced there like a stack of jenga bricks fairly close the end of the game.  I figured that if I kept both feet on the floor, bounced and moved my arms I was probably giving the illusion that I was dancing.  So long as I took no knocks from anyone else on the floor and Andrew stayed within falling distance I would be ok.

Of course, we had to get home - did I mention we arrived unhill! . . . quite! it was also ever so slightly icy underfoot, I felt as though I was going downhill, on ice with a pair of syrup tins loosely tied to my feet, I could see my marathon hopes fading fast as I hobbled along.  Now there was a lot of work going on over night in the city centre with workmen and cranes all over the place and at one stage we were stopped while a crane lifted a large concrete block over the pavement.  This was just long enough for a small crowd to gather behind us giving the added feeling of 'holding people up' not only that, but I could again feel the disapproving looks 'a woman of her age' 'how could she' . . . it was at this stage and within sight of the hotel, that I rather lost it.  I threw my handbag at Andrew, hopped about a lot while I tried to extract my swollen feet from these shoes and ranted: 'next time you intend starting a bleep night out with a bleep cross country trek maybe you could let me bleeping well know and I'll wear my bleep hiking boots - once a year, once a bleeping year we go out and I wear something other than jeans and we are so bleep poor we can't even run to a bleep taxi' 'Thank you' I smiled to the doorman who opened the door for me!

When I got back to the room I actually sat and analysed the shoes just to check I wasn't wearing the inside out or upside down!  I think in future I will be going for comfort - my days of 4 inch heels are well and truly over.

Anyway, that was my annual 'big night out' which, forgetting the shoes was actually a good night, stayed in a nice hotel, 'do' was in a nice hotel, meal was lovely, people were friendly and it did make a change to get a bit dressed up, but now it's serious, according to fb Jan did an 'easy' 40 minutes (don't you just hate that - good in a headband and 40 minutes is 'easy') took a rest day today but next Sunday I'm aiming high, so lots of work to do this week.