Testing Marital Mettle....

Are bosoms a step too far in a bunion blog? I've debated this internally all week; but if you promise to keep this entry to yourself, I'll reveal all.  Settle down that man at the back. What are you doing here, anyway?
I have made passing reference to the fact that I am one of the Greater-Busted. Makes me sound like a game bird: thank God it's not the grouse season. But I am a game bird in that I am going to share some details that will make the pomegranate-shaped poitrines amongst you, give thanks for their diminutive proportions, and make those like me, sigh with sympathy.

My bad arm and shoulder which took me to the physio last week, has improved only when I am  on painkillers. I now understand how Nurse Jackie became addicted. The physio recommended I changed to a sports bra to take the pressure off the shoulder. Well, I wasn't ready to swing low, sweet chariot, so I went to Bravissimo which specialises in bras for bigger bosoms. I emerged fully corseted  with an additional strap that pulls the two main ones closer together at the back, and further up my shoulders. I have to say that I felt like Barbarella ( you know, Jane Fonda but with shorter legs). I felt I could point and shoot with my newly upholstered lethal weapons.

The drawback is that I need a ladies' maid. I cannot, with my sair arm, get into or out of this corsetry. I have to rely on the kindly intervention of my dearest husband who's morning job is to tether the fiercesome jumblies, and at the end of the day allow them to run wild and free. Somehow this is not quite how I imagined things would pan out.

God forbid any thing happens to my darling husband. If, for example, he ran off with some pert breasted beauty leaving me all alone, it wouldn't be long before people were commenting that I had let myself go...

I'm more Bra-bra ella, actually