Hot flushes and Battenberg cake

She's not that old, really, but Julie is convinced she is rushing headlong towards what women of a certain age tactfully refer to as 'The Change'. This is down to the fact she sometimes (note that, please; only 'sometimes') gets hot flushes and finds herself suddenly opening her cardigan and fanning her face. It doesn't help that our house is pretty old and has negligible amounts of heating (a gas fire in the front room. That's it.) and insulation, so when the sun comes around and hits that window, you'll suddenly find you're sweltering. The draughty rooms don't help either. >sigh<
Another factor is that Julie had a couple of major operations in the last two years, both fairly life-altering, so her poor body is taking lots of time to try and find a workable 'normal' setting it can stay with. In the meantime, there's bound to be lots of ups and downs in many ways. (by the way, there's no need to worry - there was nothing seriously wrong and nor is there now, apart from a propensity to Gem)

One thing that seems to remain the same, though is Julie's own particular way with words. For example, after one such hot flush, Julie came up with this comment:

Well, she's welcome to that. I absolutely loathe marzipan.