Don't call a spade a spade!

Do you know the expression, "Call a spade a spade"? Tell it like it is. Don't beat around the bush. Don't dress things up.

Well, I've been thinking about this for a while now and have come to the conclusion that I never call a spade a spade. When I meet my buddies three times a week for a morning run, we call it a meeting of the Running Chicks. If I decide to take a whole two extra minutes in the shower and afterwards slather on some Origins body lotion (it's actually called 'Ginger Soufflé, whipped body cream'!) that I was given as a birthday present, it's suddenly become a Sunday Morning Pamper Session. I've dubbed our house "Alléens Perle" ('the Gem of the Avenue'). If I make a snack for DD8 and her friend - and get out some old, cheap china I bought over 20 years ago - we pretend that they're having Afternoon Tea in a posh hotel.

And so the list goes on. Why do I do it? Escapism? Maybe it's my imagination working overtime. Yes, yes, I do like to exaggerate. Or it could be because I'm the eternal optimist. And a firm believer in mind over matter. (If I took part in a medical test, I'd definitely be in that group feeling the placebo effect.)

But who cares? Does it even matter? Because it works for me, keeps me bobbing along.

Perhaps I should let the Flylady have the final word on the matter. "Make the job fun and it'll get done." ;D

Have a terrific Tuesday! :)