Swansea Escort Abby

 As we near the end of January I find myself in need of a weekend off.

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks here. A lot of great bookings, a lot of fun…  So far this year I have been blessed with great clients, the type that are funny, chatty, have not minded when I rose off the bed to go to the loo only to walk into the bedroom door on my way (I did not bruise Sir, I can confirm here that all I suffered was a diabolical case of the giggles at the time of the incident – no lasting after effects!)

Long may my favourite sort of client continue beating a path to my door – I adore bookings where you can have fun, a laugh, try to beat each other on the answers to the Great pop quiz on a certain morning radio show (I won! I don’t care what you say Sir, you can’t count!) Although, shouting out an answer whilst in the middle of appreciating me from a backwards perspective is guaranteed to get me into fits of giggles instead of fits of overwhelming lust…

To my client who happily allowed me to watch the end of the tennis match yesterday – and who was rewarded for such kindness with half an hour extra at no extra cost – I thank you! A winning morning all around, for Mr Murray and Mr Anonymous (I never divulge names!) I hope the extra time and the chocolate muffin you left with, plus the huge grin on your face for other services rendered got you through the meeting you had that afternoon with a chilled, relaxed smile on your face!

So, after the snow came the clients and what a lovely lot you have been the last 2 weeks.

This weekend I am taking a break, some well deserved and needed time off. I will do nothing more strenuous than hoover the house and potter about to some music. Of course, I will be up for brunch early on Sunday morning to watch the Assie Open Finals.  Federer is playing now as I type… It will be a Federer v Murray final – is anybody living in Australia reading this? Could you possibly pop down to the Open and kick Federer very hard in the shin? You’ll make one Welsh shiela very happy…

Again, sadly, I find myself asking anybody reading this and possibly thinking about getting in touch – please DO NOT TEXT ME.

I do not reply to you unless you are a regular client. And Gents, if your going to text me saying ‘Hi this is Pete – remember me? We spoke 4 weeks ago….’ Well, your on a hiding to nothing.

Do you have any idea how many Pete’s, Dave’s and so on I actually do speak to on a regular basis – I am sorry, I can not remember you. Your going to have to CALL me if you want to secure a booking with me.

Also, I need to point out what is made obvious throughout my site but needs saying again.

I am a MATURE escort.

I have taken 4 phone calls in the last 2 days alone from Gents looking for fresh faced, young beauty…

No, I don’t need a walking stick and a hip replacement but I am 37 years old – ancient, eh? Please, please READ my site before you pick up the phone.

I have a few wrinkles, I like to call them laughter lines but I am no map of a life lived (not yet anyhow – give me time and I am sure I will resemble my Great Grandmother eventually!)  Everything still points in the right direction and nothing wobbles where it should not, even so, I am 37 years old (see, I am repeating it) I am not 19. I have experience and personality wealth to give along with a good time but I can not give you a bounty of almost born flesh. I am not 19, I never will be again (Thank God).

I do wish though that those callers looking for a young lovely could not hang up so abruptly when I catch on they are looking for a youthful gal and I state I am 37 years old – I swear to God, what? Am I nearly dead then?

On that note, I am off to massage Deep Heat into my arthritically old bones, letting out  huge sigh of effort as I rise from my chair, I am going to stretch and moan (keep it clean there!) and complain that the cold is getting to me and go find my knitted old ladies cardigan to put on while I wonder how on earth I could have arrived at such an ancient age and cry into my chicken soup while I soak my teeth in an old plastic jar on the bathroom shelf before I then take my afternoon nap and think about going to buy my incontinence pads…..

See you on Monday when this old bird will be back with bells on after a weekend of R&R

xx

Are you stuck inside your house feeling cabin fever with every passing hour and knowing exactly how the Prisoners of Cell Block H feel?

Stockpiled your bread, eggs and milk yet?

Eaten that loaf of bread, toasted with hot butter and drank a gallon of tea?

Is hot chocolate suddenly looking like a great idea even though normally you would not touch it with a barge pole?

Got 4 pairs of socks on?

Found your hot water bottle?

Moved your chair right by the radiator?

Has your car/van/mode of transport gone sideways down a hill? Scared the bejesus out of you and made you vow to not go out again in this weather, not unless it’s a case of life or death and in that event – your ordering a taxi!

Have you watched A Touch Of Frost on the Tv (in case your not as sad as I am you will find it on ITV1 at 4pm on weekdays – a full length episode so your not wondering who did it for the rest of your life – you will know by 6pm!)

Do you long for the balmy days of rain, rain and yet more rain – because at least that was relatively warm and just wet, not icy? Are you cursing the day you said ‘I am so sick of this rain and grey sky! It’s time we had some sunshine now! I don’t mind the cold!’

Ahhh, yes… remember when that little chestnut flew out of your mouth? Well, now you mind the cold, don’t you!

Every service known to man has broken down… From your bin collection to your treatment in an A&E should you fall over and break your arm – what was (only!!) a 3 hour wait to get that arm plastered before has now possibly become an overnight camp-out. Be advised to take your own flask of soup as your going to be hanging around a while and the ladies of the WI have not ventured into the cafe for a while – you’ll get nothing at all from that little shop! Indeed, that arm could repair itself the amount of time your sat there waiting for the plastering nurse to call your name and lead you to the bucket of odd white stuff and the old rags they use to cover up your lovely arm to the elbow.

What has also broken down is the school system. And this is the whole reason for my posting this morning…

 

Firstly, to all you lovely clients that had booked this week and could not make it. Please don’t feel the need to apologise for it. I understand.

I am indeed, extremely thankful to those of you that took the time to actually get in touch and tell me you could not make it. There is nothing worse than me sat here waiting on you only for you not to show up! I appreciate the time you have taken to let me know, even the gent who attempted valiantly to get here only to call an hour before his booking  to admit defeat! Thank you for calling me and telling me. I hope you got back home safely.

 

In these circumstances, cancellations are common and understandable.  Nobody is going to rant at you for deciding to not venture out and cancel instead.

There is always next week (she says with her fingers crossed – I have seen the weather report for Sunday night!!) There is always the week after – In short, there is always another day so don’t worry at all about it. Stay home and remain without broken bones or a crashed or stuck in a ditch, car.

From my end of things. I have a small son – that is no news to my regulars. The pipes at his school have burst so whereas most schools seem to be back to normal today in Swansea, his remains firmly shut. This is hampering my ability to take incalls. It is not impossible – ring to ask but be prepared for a time that suits me not you. I have to get him to the childminder in order to see you.  My hands are tied, I can’t do anything about it. A bit of appreciation please for my situation and know I will do my best to see you, it is not a problem, it is simply a case of extra arrangements have to be made and that takes a bit of extra time.

Wait to see me! You never know, the wait might be worth it and the whole experience better for it. Anticipation – always a great thing!

 

I am not driving to outcalls late at night until this weather improves. Nothing is worth my car ending up upside down in a valley someplace – apologies to the nice gent from Pembrokeshire who requested a 9pm outcall – I won’t take the risk Sir. I am happy to come along in more friendly weather…

If you do catch me and see me, I have plenty of hot coffee and milk! My milkman it seems can battle through Siberian winds and North Pole like ice to deliver my 2 pints of semi-skimmed every other day! He’s a tough cookie!

I will warm you up in ways you can’t think about and send you along your way with aglow inside, think of me like your bowl of Ready Brek!

Keep warm and watch Jack Frost! I am off for a cup of that hot chocolate – hmmmm.

x

Not the most original of headers I grant you but how many other ways can one say ‘Happy New Year’? Really, think about it? Unless you speak another language and then it becomes interesting I guess.

You can’t say seasons greetings.  No glad tidings. No Goodwill to all men…

You could I guess say merry new year but it sounds really peculiar!

Punchy New Year to you Sir? That is bloody awful! I have actually heard that once and thought the guy that bounded into the establishment that was the near deserted pub on a quiet New Years day afternoon needed a punching to silence him – did he not know it was National Hangover Day? Cheery bloody sod!

It is bad enough you have to actually get up out of a warm bed and face otherwise not seen for 12 months relatives and eat a New Years Day dinner while feeling slightly green around the gills and in need of nothing more than a nurofen or four and another 5 hours sleep, without some bouncing, happy, full of life human in a pair of walking boots with a cane to hand (mountain climbing anybody?) gaily dancing about directly in your face! I actually felt a bit sea sick watching him walk about briskly and sway from side to side on that damn cane!

Yikes! Go away scary, happy, probably in bed by 10pm last night with a cocoa, person…. 

So, well, umm, Happy New Year!

 

Just to cheer us all up this New Year it did this here today….

Jolly good fun then!

Now. I watched the weather after the news last night and last time I checked, Swansea was South Wales. South being the key word here.

Not North and not East. South.

No snow for South Wales. Plenty up North though and some showers in the East…

Pottering about today in the house, I was smoothing down the clean sheets on the bed, deciding what underwear would be best for the day ahead, should any be needed, I get a lot of last minute calls… One minute I walked past the window and it was normal, green grass, some concrete, I could see my fabulous garden gnome (I don’t care what you think – Norman the gnome and I have a tremendous relationship come spring and summer. He’s a fantastic conversationalist when he gets going, many a seed planting has he kept me entertained and he has more sense in his little fishing rod than some humans have in their entire brains – myself included it seems!!) 10 minutes later I walked past the same window and it was white! Everything. It was falling in mammoth proportions and I was somewhat stunned. I could not see Norman anymore, he was gone, hidden under a pile of that white stuff. Blimey, fancy that…

 

I often wonder what the panic is when it begins to snow.

The school near my house could not get the little horrors out fast enough and why does every child insist on throwing snowballs the size of, oh, shall we say, France? At every passing car like it’s all a big joke (until a driver actually stops, opens his window and screams ‘come on then, start…’ in a really nasty tone of voice, then they all run away in their little school person’s uniform – the cowards).

Yes, the school threw them all out about 15 minutes into the snow falling. An hour later the sun was out, the sky was blue, the roads were clear and those teachers got an extended Christmas break.

I do not know if any more snow will fall. The schools might have been prudent to get rid of the kids now rather than say, 3pm should it start again but the chaos it creates? Total madness. Everybody with a child and a car was out on the road at exactly the same time, everybody, even the kids that normally walk it or take buses. Total traffic meltdown.

My mother was at the shops at the time and called me up shouting loudly ‘It’s bloody bedlam in Sainsbury’s. They are coming in, in their masses chanting ‘snow, snow, must get bread and eggs!’ I am going bloody home!’

Hmmm, that’s my mother for you. I bet she painfully elbowed others out of her way so she could go against the flow of feet coming into the shop as well – would not have surprised me if she got herself arrested you know, she can be quite ruthless when she wants something and this morning, she wanted to go home!

 

What is it about the desire for eggs and bread and milk when it snows? Suddenly, they are desired more than life itself! They are worth the risk of slipping and falling over, breaking your leg. They are worth driving in torturous conditions with a thousand and one other cars, their occupants hell bent on getting eggs, bread and milk…. When exactly was the last time we were snowed in for a fortnight and all nearly starved to death and eggs, bread and milk saved our lives?

 

Isn’t it very difficult not to panic when all around you are loosing their marbles!? You suddenly find yourself thinking ‘God! Really? They are going to get eggs, bread and milk? I should go as well then! I mean, they are all going, right? It is very important then! I have to go now… Right now… No, don’t stop me, I have to get eggs, bread and milk…’

I didn’t go.

I just saw the snow falling and thought ‘Well, that’s that for any work today then…’ Got on my dressing gown and long, to the knee socks (sexy, eh?) and settled in for another day of cruising about the Internet, trying not to do any clothes shopping while pretending I am completing my tax return and having another cup of coffee.

I hope it all goes by tomorrow. I have taken time off for Christmas and have missed my work I want to get back in the flow of get up, work out (yeah, right, that is always my intention but you know how bad good intentions can go…) shower, tidy up, take a booking, have my supper happy with the world. I miss the normal. I miss the routine. I want it back – go away snow immediately and this instant! I have a job to do and nobody comes to see me when it is snowing… Feel sorry for the first man that calls on me after the Christmas break and if this snow keeps up (if you are the first man my humble apologies beforehand) as I am going to be so starved for another adults attentions I am going to firstly talk your head off before I…. Enough said really…

 

I am indeed, as you have guessed from this post – back into the swing of things here. I wanted to say open for business, but really, how much inuendoe is there in that sentence for my job?

A most sincere Happy New Year to all my callers old and new. I hope it’s a very good one for us all.

Keep warm, keep safe in this weather and keep smiling – it will soon be summer and then we can all complain it’s too darn hot!

With much love

xx   (and cozy toes! honestly, try the knee high socks!)