Some of the following Anu, Ashok, Conrad, Gaelikaa, Ginger, Judy, Magpie 11, Maria, Ramana and I, all part of the Loose Blogging consortium will dip into our pasts to share once more our thoughts or deeds on the topic for the week, chosen today by Gaelikaa

The Wildest Thing I Did in my Youth

When does Youth begin or end?  ‘One can be old at an early age and young at a late age’, this is a phrase I learned from Ian.  I sometimes think I missed ‘youth’ on the first time round, but these days I feel younger than I did forty years ago!

It’s never too late to have a happy childhood,
But the second one is up to you and no one else.

If it is up to me, I intend making the most of every moment of this second childhood.  My youth began about five years ago!  It did.  Really.  I am telling you, because I decided it did!  So let me think…. Ah!  I remember.

I WAS PICKLED!

No Nancy!  Not with vinegar, that is for beetroot!

It was a couple of years ago now, and I was a raw youth remember.  I had a date.  There were would be Toyboys – PLENTY OF TOYBOYS!  I would have competition. Nimble nubile little beauties…

I needed all the help I could get.

It was the month of February filled with endless dreary bleak days and there was no sign of Spring.  Alas I spent most of the time indoors.  Indoors makes for pale people and ‘pale’ is certainly not my colour. I was becoming as grey as the weather and overtaken by Gerty Gloom!  A week in the sun was what I needed but it was out of the question, so I would have to find another way….. The mirror taunted on a daily basis and after a lengthy debate of at least five minutes, my pride took over demanding that drastic measures be taken.

An appointment was quickly made at my local beauty salon. It had worked for Elly & George’s wedding the previous year, everyone remarked that day about how well I looked, so why not just repeat the performance once more!  I had it all worked out, easy peasy…. a couple of hours and I would be the Belle of the Ball!

Stage 1 was to have the now greying eyebrows and eyelashes dyed to add definition and once all was dry I went to the spray paint shop for Stage 2. My instructions were clear and simple: I wanted a healthy glow and not to look like I was marinated in carrot and orange juice for a month! The beautician seemed quite efficient and worked in a steady way around my body.  It looked a little darker than I intended, but that was probably my eyes playing tricks since I was so pale before she began.

The colour seemed to become stronger as it settled and by morning I was certainly not anaemic! The beautician must have been distracted or misheard my message, because after thirty years living in Northern Ireland I had become an Orange Woman! 😉

Holy mother of the the vestal virgins, what on earth was I going to do?

“Shower”! I shouted.  I have no notion why I was shouting since I was the only person in the house.

I scrubbed, I rinsed and I scrubbed again, to no avail.  Even my salty tears had no effect.  I was contemplating taking the veil.  I was desperate!

Having arranged to meet Elly by lunchtime I decided to set out and she would come up with a solution for me. Little did I realise how punny and funny that would turn out to be!

The eyelashes were the correct colour but alas the eyebrows looked as if they were painted with an inch wide brush and the colour was completely wrong for me. If I was no picture to look at, then Elly’s face sure made up for it! “OMG! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU MUM?” replaced the usual excited welcome and hug.

While I sipped coffee frantic calls were made to Elly’s good friend Ena at Isis Beauty Salon, and appointments were juggled about to accommodate me. Ena set to work and sorted the eyebrows.  Using alcohol soaked pads she gently started to rub my face. “Yes its working”, squealed Elly, and I am not sure if it was encouragement for Ena or to appease me. Since I was lying down with my eyes closed I had no idea if I was now striped like a Zebra or spotted like a Leopard!

“VODKA!” said Ena. “Buy some on the way home and use it to bleach the skin”

We did!  And within the hour I was stripped, dipped, and went a step further than Cleopatra!’  She bathed in Asses’ milk, but Grannymar bathed in Vodka!

It worked and I did go to the Ball

Once I entered the Alexander Hotel the Toyboys were surrounding me and falling to their knees.  We had fun, we had laughter and met amazingly talented people, it was an honour to be there and the memories will linger for many a long year!

Late in the evening I was interviewed by Conn Ó Muíneacháin!  We finished with the story of the young gentleman who earlier shook my hand and told me I made his night, (now you don’t expect me to name him here, do you?). I told Conn that it was many a long year since I made any man’s night! With that his tape ran out and it was time for Cinderella to return to the ashes.