So she went swishing

Not fishing.

Swishing.

Which is actually clothes swapping. And clothes swapping is a swap shop extravaganza, providing an ethical wardrobe overhaul opportunity, with social benefits.

The first rule of clothes swap is: don’t put any of your belongings down, not even for a second. 

Because everything is fair game in the swap room and there’s no way of knowing if anything belongs to you, unless you’re actually holding it. If you put your handbag down, expect someone to be rummaging through it in a nanosecond. This isn’t because swishers are petty thieves, but because a swap. is. not. a. shop.

So she lived appily ever after..

“Forget your troubles, come on get ‘appy, you better chase all your cares away..”

That’s a song I sing – I dropped an “h” in the  name of artistic licence. And I can sing it, thanks to the miracle of (legit) free songs on the magical mini computer that is my phone.

My phone is like Mary Poppin’s bag: full of stuff you’d never imagine it could fit. I made the switch from apple to android grudgingly last year, but my handset (Vodafone Smart Prime 6) is constantly mistaken for an iphone 6, which is a serious result, because it cost just 30 quid, brand new.  Despite its price tag, it does everything I need it to and that’s where I come back around to my apps – and my singing.

So she shaved her dog

This isn’t a euphemism.

I have a dog, a Cairn Terrier to be precise, named Travis.  Generally speaking Travis doesn’t cost much to keep.. He eats everything (he’d revel in getting fat by foraging streets and bins if I let him) and destroys nothing. But there are two very pricey parts to Travis owning: vets bills and grooming.

So she made sushi without sashimi..

I felt a bit guilty freaking out at my boyfriend for putting a £10 packet of fresh salmon sashimi in the shopping basket. Being a killjoy is not cool, but neither is haemorrhaging money on raw fish. Now I really like sushi, but my expensive taste doesn’t quite fall in line with my shoestring budget.

Or does it?