And my best feature is….?

About six months after Tony died, I made a rash and I would suggest one glass too many, decision to join an online dating agency. I know, internet browsing and alcohol don’t mix well but it was a lonely and confusing time post T. I must look back at my blogs and check my mindset me thinks. Anyway, whatever the reason I filled in the questionnaire and posted my bio. Two weeks later, I cancelled the subscription. I definitely wasn’t ready for all those 26 year olds swooning at my photograph, dark glasses and all. I would like to point out, I did not check the box for someone younger or shorter than me but it seemed that I attracted 5 foot 2 twenty-somethings.

Fast forward to current 12 month status and I’m in a happier place. Or at least a more settled one. I feel as if I’ve grown wings for the first time in a long while. Reducing my work load has given me the chance to spend time with friends and oddly, discover London. But it hasn’t been easy, there were, and still are, days when you just don’t want to leave the house. But you force yourself to because the alternative is miserable. So I’m learning to be me again. However, there’s no denying that I miss the fun of having a companion to share the daily grind with. I don’t see myself falling in love again to be honest and my bed, well let’s face it I have very snuggly bodies to share it with.

A great friend is determined to pen the right profile for me when I next decide to throw myself into the dating pool again, she’s even taken proper photos of me looking vaguely presentable without sunglasses. I think Alice looks better than me in the photos but then she’s an all round man eater of a Border terrier. She thinks yoga, loves nights out with friends, museums, hates flying and I’m thinking yes but there is a small but important point. This gal has 10 dogs. Maybe answers on a postcard please?

” if you eliminate smoking and gambling, you will be amazed to find that almost all an Englishman’s (woman ahem) pleasures can be, and mostly are, shared by the dog” (George Bernard Shaw)