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Thursday, 30 December 2010

Panting update

Back In August I wrote my Panting blog. Here I am a few months later and still panting. Still the same Hot Date, still the same wobbly quivering legs, still the same laughter. My heart melts every time I see or speak to him and I love every minute we are together. We've managed just 2 days away recently shacked up in a blustery seaside town in a lovely apartment owned by really good friends. Quivery legs a plenty, even the dodgy one, and lots and lots of talking, falling asleep and fun. Oh yes and the Other stuff too.

So there I am, one weekend, in my wee after glow after Hot Date had departed. In one of my most embarrassing moments to date She-ra sidled up to me wrap her arms around me and said " Next time mum, keep the noise down"

Groundhog Day

I'm sparing a thought for Dog, after all it's her Christmas too. Every morning I am greeted with the same routine from our wee black dog. Or as the letter writing neighbour called her, a fierce and vicious beast. Firstly she has crept upstairs to the landing where she waits with anticipation of hearing you stir. This is followed by what we call helicopter ears as she shakes her head, several times. Who needs an alarm clock? If she is worried about you or she knows that they are ill she will sleep outside that persons door. Its quite touching really. Once she has roused you enough to get up she will pretend she has just come up the stairs and you are greeted with this scenario. ( apologies of blurred but she doesn't keep still)
Mad dog, a toy ( if she can find one as she tends to take them outside and forget to bring them back in again ) and a wagging tail that by rights should have her in flight. If she could combine the helicopter flapping ears and tail wagging we would have lift off. She then charges round as if she is about to go on the longest walk ever only to be let out into the back garden. she will then charge back in as if she is about to go on longest walk ever only to find I have sloped off to the bathroom leaving her looking forlorn at the bottom of the stairs. And she does this every morning without fail. That really is looking on the bright side in action.

I swear to god that dog knows what activity I am doing according to the clothes I wear. Her most recent observation was that on return home without the infamous pot leg she assumed the stance of " and now are we going on the longest dog walk ever? purlease?"

I think her best Christmas present was not the red ball on a string toy but the fact that every morning my Dad gets up and takes to the park. He reckons he hates dog, but you know what, she loves him.

Tuesday, 14 December 2010

How Not To Buy a Christmas Tree


If you do not like foul language I suggest you look away now. This is my guide on how NOT to buy a tree.
  1. Firstly do not leave the buying of said tree until late Sunday afternoon when the rest of the world and his wife have spent the entire weekend buying up all the good ones
  2. If you fail to get tree on the Saturday morning first thing then leave till during the week when said vendors have received another delivery unless you like the ugly trees
  3. Ideally take someone with you to carry said tree to your car otherwise much fluttering of eye lashes will have to occur as you try to go solo and get the bastard spiny thing into the car. Some people see the tree buying thing a some lovely family tradition and pity those who go and buy it on their own. I have been buying our tree on my own for years and would gladly hand over that mantle of responsibility to someone else. Any takers? No I thought not.
  4. Ask the nice tree vendor if it comes with a base. THIS IS ABSO_FUCKING_LUTELY essential. In case you don't realise how essential this is I will repeat myself for the stupid ( ie me who do this every frigging year ) "Does it come with a base?" THIS IS ABSO_FUCKING_LUTELY
  5. If, for whatever reason, it does not -walk away now! Go buy a tree where it does come with base and maybe they'll give you a sprig of mistletoe as a kind gesture. So walk away unless you want to do the following.
  6. Hoick tree home with poor visibility out rear view mirror.
  7. Wrestle said tree out of car. It is also not a good idea to do this in the dark and cold. Daylight really can help here.
  8. Get your Christmas tree base that you bought years ago for occasions like these which you swore you would never use again but have, until the next few moments, completely forgotten why you said you would never use it again.
  9. With the aid of one teenager manoeuvre the tree stump it base. Ah, it doesn't fit. Ever so slightly too wide to for the 3" base. No problem we'll shave a bit off it to make it fit. Can't be difficult.
  10. Find an axe, a sharp one preferably. Mine was recently sharpened by Hot Date. He did a good job but alas it was too far gone in the state of bluntness.
  11. If axe fails try a saw. Nope the saw is no good either.
  12. Aha I spy my neighbour maybe he'll take pity and help. And so he did. Much axe wielding and grunting ( what is it about men and axes? ) also nearly a pair of expensive shoes ruined.
  13. Position tree into stand and hurrah it fits! Only... only.. the bastard tree has clearly been drinking my spiced apple cup as it cannae stand up straight. Exit said neighbour at rapid rate.
  14. She-ra, or any teenage helper will do, will then point out that it's not the trees fault but the base. The base is the bad guy here. Let's go buy another base. Hurrah She-ra does it again, she of the common sense I am so clearly lacking. We hurtle to our nearest Homebase. We purchase a new style of base that could not fail ( so the shop assistant said) and hurtle back home.
  15. We manage with much manoeuvring to finally get the base into position. and we leave it to relax, to decorate the next day.
  16. Next evening the damn tree has been at the bleeding spice apple cup again and is propping itself up in the corner of the room. Has it no shame?
  17. Emergency phone call to Pops - him "Oh hello haven't heard from you in a while" me " Can you come and help me sort out my FUCKING tree before I chop it up into little pieces for firewood" I secretly hope that it has heard that last bit and is now standing to attention through sheer fear.
  18. Pops arrives. He too can't master the new bastard stand. He manages a quick and cost free solution. One big bucket. Lots of lumps of firewood to hold it into position. Then he places it onto a table to raise it off the ground because the green grocer clearly doesn't know his feet from his cm. If our tree is 5' then I'm 6'2"
  19. I give you our Christmas tree. I feel better now.

The 14th Meeting of the Annual Wreath Making Society

Looking at the title of this blog it reminds me of book titles that have become the fashion of late.

The Guernsey Literary And Potato Peel Pie Society springs to mind. Maybe I could use the 14 years to mark out landmark occasions in our lives. Actually maybe not.


So here we were all were but the numbers were down this year. One was packing for her Christmas family jolly to Barbados. I know Barbados! Another was on a train. Another was felled by a sickness bug about which she felt compelled to share the details. And the other had a sick child who despite being 16 still wants their mum. So we four gathered round the spiced apple cup.

Recipe
1x 2 litre bottle of cider
200g dark brown sugar
2 mulled tea bag things I found in my cupboard
1 tsp of cinnamon powder I should have mixed with the sugar but didn't so it floated like scum on the top of the pan
handful of crushed all spice berries - remember not to let the pestle or is it mortar roll on to the floor and smash into smithereens like I did
a splash or two of brandy
heat up and serve.

You know what, it was bloody delicious. We also had mince pies at the ready and oven warmed but we became so engrossed in our craft that we forgot about said mince pies.

To execute the best wreath making evening you really should have your Spotify music play list at the ready as I did. So we had ol' Dean martin blasting out Let it snow let it snow let it snow with a bit of Nut cracker for good measure and a sprinkling of the Pogues and dash of Mariah. You should also supply lots of wires, wire cutters and pliers of various sizes. the laughs come thick and fast, the wreaths are made and the gossip running through like river. Who's doing what for Christmas etc. I now give you wreath makers and their offering. If you look very closely at one you can see that the minute said friend left the room we covered her effort with fabric, sprouts and even a toy soldier.
I am very disappointed in mine this year. I think the tree wrestling stole my creative chutzpah and the red chilli pepper and sprout confection I had envisaged in my head failed to materialise and will be confided to the front door that no one uses. Fortunately I have my old monkey nut wreath to fall back on which will be given a new lease of life with a fresh ribbon to hang in pride of place. I rue the day I didn't take a photo of my silver chocolate coin wreath as it was my piece de resistance and I have never managed to better it yet. Ah well for your eyes only I give you wreaths.




Sparkly pants




The Gallery challenge is Sparkle. I don't feel particularly sparkly at the moment having spent the last two days wrestling with a reluctant Christmas tree. The title is also misleading as there are no sparkly pants in this photo although there is some tinsel sulking in the background
( I don't like tinsel.) However maybe you be amazed at the sparkle we show when it comes to inventing games.( I know I know it's a very tenuous link ) This one was simple. Each guest had to bring several pieces of clothing which was thrown into a bin liner. We then played a board game. Every time you got something wrong you had to put on an item of clothing. eh voilĂ . I think we actually all wet ourselves laughing. Please do not report the man in the middle, he really is normal. (left to right Laura, Pops, me)
RKJ7JXQMYHCM



What's your favourite foodie bit of the Christmas dinner?

Bear with me, I am genuinely interested in what you love about the Christmas spread. I've event left an "other"category and am really interested in what you are going to say there.


Go to http://twtpoll.com/4lakr0 and getting voting


This is not a sponsored post but the inner geek in me just popping out to say hello. Please say hello back.

Coming this week: Sparkly - I really must do an entry for Tara's Gallery, The 14th Annual Christmas Wreath Making Society, How not buy a Christmas Tree

Friday, 10 December 2010

The letter I should have written

On a recent trip to the library I picked up a booklet about letters I should have written. Oh my god they were so moving. And it got me to wondering who would Iwrite to. At first I thought of the obvious like my mum to tell her about her grandchildren that she never saw, or my ex husband just so he might know what a total bastard he is. Or what about the job offer I turned down for the one I am now in. Or to the barking mad grandmother who died earlier this year estranged from her family for nearly a decade. Or to the friends who helped me so much over the past couple of years and to whom I will never ever be able to repay all their kindnesses. I thought I'd write this one instead..

Context
Me, aged 18 ventured off to France to be an au pair. I hated every minute of it as I'd been placed with the family from hell and wished I had had the courage to leave and follow my heart. Instead I stayed put for 6 miserable months and on return met Mr ex within a week. Whilst I was away my mum had become ill and was being fobbed off by her GP. She later turned out to have agressive throat cancer and died a year later. She was in the process of buying a village shop.

Dear Mum

First can you let Dad read this when he comes round as I can't afford the postage and have run out of paper.
Second you've probably guessed from our phonecalls that I'm really unhappy here. The details were so misleading. The child I'm looking after is not 18m old but 3.5 and still in nappies! Nor is she an only child but has a 17 year old sister who is at boarding school during the week. She is very SPOILT too ! The mother is nice enough but starts drinking each day earlier than the next, at the moment we are at about 1030am. If I get chased round the table by one of their randy male friends again I think I will scream. So I have decided to move on and leave. The whole point was for me to learn French and have decided I need to be in a city rather than the sticks. I'm not allowed out even on my day off and am stuck in the middle of nowhere. I contacted the agency who placed me here and they have found me a new position in Nice further up the coast. I start next week so will be leaving here soon. I'll ring you with the address when I leave here. In the meantime please go back to the doctors about the lump in your mouth, that doesn't sound like a cold sore to me. Give my sister a big hug and I'll be helping you in the new shop before you know it.
Au revoir

Wednesday, 8 December 2010

As pure as the driven snow, my arse



For Tara's gallery this week with its theme of white there could be only 1 of 2 pics.

Either me and my mates dressed the BeeGees complete with glow in the dark teeth, but I couldn't find the pic. Or my snow woman. Well built circa 1990's. No further description necessary


Monday, 6 December 2010

Simple pleasures


This weekend has been of simple pleasures

Friday night - I stayed home whilst Hot Date went out on a works do. All very domesticated. Slippers and hot water bottle for me that night * cough.
Saturday - I was escorted round supermarkets, a little bit of christmas shopping by my carer/hot date as I staggered behind walking like a demented penguin. Going bowling was probably not a good idea in the evening but it was enjoyable none the less and She-ra perked up and got a few strikes in.
Sunday - I waved good bye to Hot date in the morning and pottered at my own slow pace, made a hot water bottle cover out of an old jumper marvelled at my blanket stitch and gusset before making even more felted christmas pud tree decorations after swearing never again. I'm not sure what happened to the rest of the weekend. It blurred in to a lovely joint of ham cooked more for the left overs of ham egg and chips than the main meal, a glass of wine and being absolutely exhausted come 8pm

Not exciting but simple and I enjoyed every minute of it.

Thursday, 2 December 2010

Mr Angry

I arrived home this week to find a hand delivered letter shoved through the door with what I can only desscribe as old peoples wobbly writing on it. Oh no I thought what's going on here? I immediately thought of He-mans drum and bass music throbbing at full pelt when I'm out has finally made someone snap. Well it did with She-ra.

I read said letter. The beast of a dog had been barking in our back garden and it had enraged our behind neighbour so much that despite being very ill they felt compelled to come round to my house and confront the viscious dog themselves.

I would go round to their house but my wobbly pot encased leg and very bad weather wont let me. I think I might do what Grandad suggested and send She-ra round in her greens ( cadet uniform to th uninformed ) with a sauecpan.
Barking dog my arse! Barking mad neighbour more like.

Monday, 29 November 2010

What is community?


The Cooperative Membership Fund

The Cooperative Membership Fund







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Community spirit - do you have it? The Cooperative  Community Fund certainly does - in spades. When I got the email to ask me to write about this I didn't really have to think twice. I already bank with The Cooperative - a bank with a conscience, and we shop there regularly. It really is a society that gives something back big style to your local community. However I hadn't quite appreciated just how much they give back to society and the diverse range of projects they support. And all of this is funded through those members who chose to tick the box that says pays my dividend into community projects rather than pocket the money themselves. Bravo I say. After all would you really miss the dividend anyway?



So what qualifies as a community project? Does this mean that you have to have charitable status? Apparently not. However it must carry out  positive work on a long term basis, it should address a community issue, be of a long term benefit and address the Coopeartive Community Fund principles  and values  as well as being innovative in its approach.



Having had  gander at the other offerings in my areas I'm wondering whether to propose my sons's local rugby club. It is one of the few clubs that operate a scheme to reach out into the community and get children from less well off areas to get involved, It is the most ethnically diverse club in the area and has representation at every age group. However it is in competition with other more successful clubs in the area who have swanky club houses and excellent facilities whereas our club is sadly lacking here. I think I will have to pass this on to our chairman and see if he can make a successful application.



See  a pic of Ann Hayes and her project





 



I've been toying with the idea of becoming a member and I think this might have just swung it for me with my share of the pie going to other worthwhile causes.  Clearly if they have an action group that supports scrummy mummies * cough, who are laid up with a pot leg and cant drive all the better. So what are you waiting for? It's a good time of year to be thinking about community and what we can all do to help.


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Friday, 26 November 2010

Gilf, Pot and John Lewis

In the cosmic karma of balancing scales mine are definitely weighted against me the moment. This is not fair. This is not fair for a number reasons not least that people who know me unanimously agree that my time for "shit happens" has happened. My shit was so big that it would have blocked the U bend of cosmic karma. There was really no worse a time and things could and should only get better.Its time to move on and up. In the grand scheme of things a couple of of recent events are just testing or inconvenient such as car breaking down and having no transport for a week coupled with a melt down of home pc. However there is one issue that I can't talk about regarding my lovely boy and then there is my friggin leg.

I am sat in my kitchen as I write when really I should be at work. I have a smelly pair of mismatching pjs on and my John Lewis thick dressing gown which was once lovely and is now covered in hair dye disasters. There is a cup of strong fresh coffee, the radio is on and the dog sat on her bed giving me the evil eye as she is afraid of the kitchen ( weird ) but hey it is the warmest room in the house. It's minus 4 out there don't you know. On my leg I have one slipper. These slippers were a a very thoughtful gift from She-ra last Christmas. She did her research and knew I needed something warm and that I could nip outside in. Eh voila the granny slipper. I was hoping for a black peep toe mule with feathers and a heel. Hot date took one look at them and murmured granny or it might have been gilf. On the other foot I have a pot. I have never had a pot before. I have never broken anything and nor have I now. It's just tendonitis. Just makes it sound like it does hurt, believe me it does hurt, in fact is glowing red and throbbing so much I believe I have been added to the hazardous lights list for incoming flights. I have this delightful accompaniment for the next 2 weeks. I can't drive, really should be resting it and n0t doing much walking at all. Sorry dog you can get fat with me. I can't run for at least 6 weeks so that's Santa Dash out of the window. ( Yes I dress up as Santa and run around a park for 5k in the name of charidee) See I do nice things for other people so that's another reason why shit shouldn't happen to nice people.

My greatest challenge is yet to come. Before my Hot Date tonight I somehow how to work out how to have a bath without getting my leg wet. I own big bath and slip down in it. If you hear a gurgling its me drowning. There is urgent hair removal and general tidy up required. This Friday is an important one it has been in the diary for a while. This is the day that Hot Date meets the sister and bro-in-law. This is big. Bigger than meet the parents. (To be fair he has met Bro-in-law briefly and Step dad.) This was going to be a boozy night of pub after pub in the name of getting to know you. Instead I think I might just manage one bar as long as I can have a seat and absolutely no one comes within a 10m radius of my leg. Actually this is not the biggest challenge, the biggest challenge is in fact how do you get your leg over when you cant even lift it off the floor. I'll pass on any useful tips later.

Monday, 22 November 2010

My life is a roller coaster. I know that but right now it is a bit too much of a one and not much fun at all, save for Hot Date ( and slightly worried the scary shenanigans of my crazy family will scare him off .) So apologies if it's all a bit quiet here at the moment but I need to get my head together and get a grip.

Hopefully everything will be back to normal service soon

Thursday, 11 November 2010

So I took my knickers off

Today was ONE OF THOSE DAYS!. I knew it was going to be ONE OF THOSE DAYS because I woke up inexplicably early due to the lashing of the rain and the howling wind against my window. Waking up early in itself was bad enough as I have been out on two consecutive school nights each one making bed time much later than the first. Total sleep over last three days 18 hours against my normal ration of 24hours.

The weather was so horrendous I welched on taking the poor wee dog out. She felt hard done by. I had buyers up from the Londinium and we were going to be dashing from building to building dodging rain and flying rubbish whilst I tried to make small talk with people I had prejudged as being nothing more than tedious even though I had yet to meet them. Plus I had been invited to lunch to make the experience even more prolonged.

On the way to work the bastard of a car made horrendous noises that resulted in The AA man scratching his head and towing it off to my garage whilst I was left to get to work on the BUS! I had to sit next two very smelly people who needed to be introduced to Mr Soap and Mrs Deodorant. My feckin umbrella decided to play inside-outside-guess- which-way-I-am-gonna- blow as I walked against the wind to get to work. ( OK I know I am coming across as Mrs Princess Pants but like I said it was ONE OF THOSE DAYS. Besisdes if the great unwashed had not chosen to sit next to me it would have been a perfectly fine bus ride. )

I have now had to get one of my colleagues to meet the buyers whilst I tired to tame the hair and get warm. It was whilst in the toilet cubicle that I realised I had my knickers on inside out. This was clearly a sign. A sign that my day was indeed inside out and that if I continued to wear said under garments then the rest of my day would indeed be PANTS!

So I did what any sane slightly superstitious person would do and took them off and righted the wrongly put on under garments. It was a that point that I looked down at my semi naked body, bush, pop socks and saucy red shoes and thought what the feck I am doing? However needless to say the buyers were absolutely lovely, lunch at Harvey Nicks was divine and having no car meant I was free to join them in afternoon of Chablis and fine banter.

I have no idea what the hell is wrong with my car. I have just opened a parking fine notice for a parking fine that I never received. So what other bloody clothing item do I have on the wrong way round?

Monday, 8 November 2010

Cliff Richard, bad sex and ebay

I would rather stick pins in my eye than do any of the following:
  • Put things on to ebay. I hate it with a passion. It is penury. All that finding the stuff, weighing up if you need it or not, photographing, writing the description etc etc. Then there is the actual selling itself. The inane questions. The winner bidder who never actually pays you. Then slags you off for selling your product to someone else. *cough tosser
  • Mop up sick. I don't do bodily fluids very well. Having written this sentance I can already predict that within the next few days either the dog( particularly grusome ) or one of the kids will be sick.
  • Go to Primark. I just can't see the bargains, I can't feel the quality and I actually have Primarkology, a phobia of going in. I have only managed to go in a couple of times which was very early in the morning and was something akin to a trolley dash as my sister and Iran through grabbing stuff for Christmas presents for our teenage concerns. I absolutely hate it with a passion. In fact any where that doesn't have a rack of clothes specifically for me in my size only, my favoruite colour and suits me to a tee I don't really like.
  • Managing your finances. I collect the recipts and once a month I will reconcile everything then shred it. That's the theory anyway. It depresses that there is not more dosh to go around and I find the whole thing tedious. No matter how careful I budget there is never enough money left over to buy me that holiday, piece of jewellry, the saucy underwear or the Kurt Geiger boots I long for. I need to find either a big wodge of money stuffed that slipped down the sofa, win the lottery and fast or a rich man.
  • Speaking with school. After years of He-man being the trail blazer at school I dread the phone call. It brings me out in hives. I must remember it is not I who has committed the crime and equally not all news is bad news Note to self do not look so shocked when he gets paid a compliment, in which case it is very much down to me
  • Package holidays. I am not one of the pack, I sit outside of the herd and I don't like people telling me what to do especially on holiday. I have haven't been one since I departed from Glasgow airport some 20+ years ago with a a plane load of drunkards who then set fire to the coach transporting us to our Turkish resort at 3am.
  • Rudeness. Closely followed by pettiness. It doesn't pay to be either of those things and you get so much more back when you are nice. Smiling is much more fun and laughing burns up more calories than frowning. Go on crack a smile now.
  • Housework - it does seem to be woman's work but I'm trying to set a good example by getting He-man to do his fair share. He has already learnt to hate ironing, they both fight over the hoovering if it is offered as a choice against any other duty and they both think emptying the dishwasher is a major chore. I just wish they knew how to fill the damn thing and that things do not mysteriously jump in there. And if they did the Pucking potato ricer would fit in just fine. I yearn for the days when I used to have a cleaner.
  • Cliff Richard - dont ask, he brings me out in hives and I will leap across a room to turn off a tv or radio with him on it.
  • Be left wondering. I like to know where I stand. I think Hot date understands this. Ole Twinkly eyes didn't. That goes for work too - please don't play games. I hate office politics just tell me how it is and we'll go from there.
  • calendars - I would rather choose my own, my kids don't like them and certainly don't want 2 or 3 if not more. Please leave these off the Christmas list
  • Bad sex - rather go with out. Fortunately I don't appear to be having that problem at the moment.
  • I could also live with out beetroot, fish, pastis, Eastenders, Kate Humble, a few people at work..
So if you spot a puke covered Cliff Richard calendar on ebay then I have probably put it on there.

Sunday, 7 November 2010

Spare Ribs


Picture the scene: I am 2 hours away from home driving in rush hour traffic with other people in the car. It is nose to tail traffic, in a city I don't know. it's dark. The mobile goes several times and ignore it. I'm driving after all. however this caller was persistent.

She-ra - sounding worried: I've had to go for a walk to calm down
Me, not really listening - what's happened?
She-ra: well he wouldn't turn his music down...And I asked him, so then I....(voice trailing off )
Me, listening a bit more - what's happened? Are you still out?
She-ra; well I did ask him and I didn't mean too but I just lost it.
Me, thinking oh shit.:What's happened?
She-ra :I threw a pan at him but I think I missed.

At this point I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. If she had lost her temper you could be rest assured that the he had been giving some lip and being obnoxious as only an older brother can be til she flipped. However I was now worried about what if he flipped back? There would be blood spilled if that was the case. So I thought I'd go for another tack and try He-man's phone. No reply. Getting worried now and thanking god I am stationary traffic. My passengers were bemused. I try him again.

He-man - Yes I am here - his voice sounded clipped as if was auditioning for a part as a German officer in 'Allo 'Allo. I am fine She-ra is here and is ok, aren't you. You are OK aren't you? I can hear mumbling from She-ra. She comes onto the phone and in an equally stilted voice says, I am fine but your pan is broken.

I now worry for 2 hours.

I finally arrive Chez Adams Family. She has been crying. He is in the shower. I survey the scene nothing broken apart from the very good quality saucepan which is unrepairable.
C'mon, I cry, you should be at rugby I could get you there if you rush. ( He-man doesn't do fast ever )
He comes downstairs in nothing but a towel where he points to the large bruise on his ribs. I'm fine just a but sore, he said all very grown up. In fact he really surprised me at how adult he was being about the whole thing, giving her hug at her distress of actually hitting him, not going to rugby where he could have done further damage. a trip to the doc next day confirmed our suspicions and she thanked him for brightening up her afternoon with such a daft tale.

How she managed to hit him I never know but in future I shall be putting all possible missiles in a locked cupboard when ever I am out of the house.

Thursday, 4 November 2010

Win a year's salary with PayPal




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Enter now for your chance to win



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OMG can it be this simple? Seriously you just want me to buy something using the services of Paypal as many times as I want on a weekly basis and then I get entered into a draw to win a year's salary of £40k? Clearly this salary depends on the job you hold as for some this could be 2 or three years salary. For myself it's representative of a mere tea break - *cough



I have been cogitating on this all day about what I would do with £40 grand should I be the lucky winner. As I pounded the streets on my run my mind ran to paying off some of my mortgage, say £20K, a new or newish car is definitely on the cards after the year I've had with my old banger. Hmm can't decide between a Seat or some Big Mother of a 4x4 ( that I don't need )? A holiday to Australia for me and mine and maybe some long weekend in a big rented country house for the rest of my family. My ever faithful team definitely need a meal out and oops I have spent it all. Back to reality and I could see my winnings being quickly spent on the such like.



The teenagers would absolutely and categorically want a laptop each given that ours is about dead. Damn it I'll have one too.



I could worry less about the cost of Christmas with such a windfalland I'm sure I could get more than the one batman suit I have been instructed to get for the 4 year old given I know he is going to live in it for the rest of the year. *Pooee what's that smell?



He-man could go on a shopping spree given that all his trackie bots/lounge pants got stolen at this year's festivals and he currently is sporting a pair that are so baggy the local clown acts are eyeing him up as the next big thing. Plus they have probably read his entry in the school year book as the one most likely to succeed as... yes you've guessed it, a clown.



Some bangin' tunes man - my gift to bro in law for all his lovely hospitality and being a cool Uncle.



And even though I said I would never ever go camping again I am already eyeing up tents so I guess we could have a splurge there too.



Having moaned in my latest blog about not having the impetus to put my recently photographed on ebay I suddenly find myself motivated to get cracking and having a bit of a doodle at what else I could find to purchase on there. Maybe a trip to Superdry ebay outlet is called for some cool stocking fillers for the kids.



Well what are you waiting for? Getting clicking now the more times you buy the greater chance you have of winning  

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Tuesday, 2 November 2010

Time off for good behaviour

On my week off over half term I thought I would chillax as She-ra would say. But as I started to tot up what I had been upto I realised that I needed another week off to recover ( I wish.)

I ran 35km, not all at the same time I might add.

I sanded my wooden work surfaces over three days. I oiled then them 3 -4 times each. I cursed starting said job.

I met with Sci fi Mum of 3, East End mum, Cornish camping buddy for a glass of wine or two.

I baked 2 dozen buns, our Christmas cake and…on the culinary theme I made some meals for the freezer including Coq au Vin and beef in beer.

I had a number of dirty thoughts about hot date. Had opportunity on more than one occasions to put said dirty thoughts into action.

Met with sister twice. Once to do stuff with the littlies and 1 teen, another for dinner and silly fun including bro in law and Gramps. The list game is fab and I am converted to Cranium, despite hating it previously.

Went shopping 4 times. This was three too many for me. Once was to purchase Heman shoe aka boats and various undergarments. Also to get a sneaky idea what he might like for Christmas whilst also trying out some one to one time with a mumping teenager. Once was on my own post trip to hairdresser which depressed me as I couldn't' afford anything I liked. ( see DIY note later ) And once with She-ra to replace burnt boots – see chillers. And finally once with Lancastrian friend just because we could, although we spent much of the time in a coffee shop, I resisted a very lovely grey jumper from GAP where she succumbed to a lovely pair of boots.

I donated games to charity shops

I photographed stuff to go on ebay. Still yet to actually put this on ebay. It is one of my pet hates. I am hoping the dire need for funds will motivate me some time soon.

Found an upholsterer to stuff the life back into my sofa cushions.

Planted another 3 more pots so my very green garden will have some colour in the Spring. Seriously it is just green, luscious green but just green.

Finally started sanding old chairs in need of upholstery

Visited various diy shops 6 times. Felt I spent too much money one DIY which I calculated back into a nice pair of Kurt Geiger boots that I would rather be sporting.

Ferried kids too many numerous things to mention including cadets, parties, rugby.

Froze on a rugby pitch in the middle of nowhere, whopping He-man on to victory. Well almost they lost in the final 30 seconds.

Went to a comedy club with Hot date.

Finished my book for book club – Short Girls by Bich Minh Nguyen if you are interested.

Washed my way through a washing mountain which then turned in to a Ironing mountain. Which led me to watch 4 episodes back to back of Coach trip just because I could.

Started to think about the Christmas decoration swap organised by Mrs Yappy Dog. Seriously what was I thinking? So far I'm leaning towards the world of felt having inadvertently shrunk a number of jumpers.

Took up three pairs of work trousers. I can't believe how bleedin' short my legs are. I really do need those Kurt Geiger boots. ( wiping away dribble from chin now )

Have become addicted to the mah jong app on my phone so will have to leave you now whilst I crack this damn game...

Wednesday, 27 October 2010

Chillers

Chillers - asked English mum, what's that then? It involves , I replied , huge footwear, pizza and noise. It is not, and I repeat, a party! so I though I would give you a definition for those with nearly teens and those with teens can just roll their eyes.

  • It is a small gathering, (actually a gathering is a small party, ) so let's call it a small group. In this instance 6 people of both sexes.
  • Pizza is involved but it is compulsory standard fare under teenager rules that is .
  • Drinks must be provided. This is the tricky one. We have coke, fizzy orange and cherry ade. We were asked for alcohol. I am not comfortable with that request, I replied, you are 14 and it is illegal. She-ra quickly retraced her steps and said it didn't matter. But I knew it did matter because it effected the guest list. I'm happy for those who base their acceptance of an invitation solely on the provision of alcohol not to come; 14 is too young in my book. She didn't ask again so I'm guessing she was happy not to be providing it anyway. I have let both my children have alcohol on timely occasions, a glass of fizz at an engagement is far as She-ra has gone into the world of booze. He-man has the odd beer depending on the occasion although outside the house his consumption is far greater but then at 16 so was mine.
  • Fire Fire Fire! a chiller chez nous seems to involve lighting a fire outside in the cold. Irrespective of the time of year. She has lit the fire basket, set the chairs and benches up with rugs and cushions and made a lovely outside room. In the freezing cold but they don't seem to mind the cold do they teenagers, all that loitering on street corners? Besides they seem to keep themselves warm by chopping wood with a very blunt axe.
  • Music- good old i pod. The ipod is on, there is some wild dancing going on.
  • At some point there will be a lot of humongous sized footwear for me to fall over in the house. Although She-ra did point out that her boy mates don't really have big feet like her brother and his mates. Big feet big hands, I muttered to myself thinking that was a life lesson she was also too young to learn just yet.
  • We also made some buns. She-ra is an accomplished baker, and we ( by that I mean I ) got a bit carried away this afternoon making ghoulish buns. Not very cool but then at 14 I'd like to think you are never to old for a silly bun.


I would like to point out that the chillers quite quickly becomes chillers with alcohol and from that it accelerates to a gathering with lots of alcohol and a bit of puking and from there to full blown party with a staggering amount of alcohol, puking, police and ambulances. Be afraid very afraid.

Tuesday, 26 October 2010

it doesn't take much to become addicted


56 Sage Street

free game







Sponsored Post



 



This is my first ever sponsored post. I am very excited. In fact I got three offers in the same day but this was the one I decided to go with. I don't do computer games, virtual reality and the such but within minutes I was hooked. All I could see was my own two kids as the main character. The trials and tribulations of getting a job, how difficult it is to weigh up the good guys from the not so good guys and the down right bad guys. How do you mange your money in this day age? Someone please give my kids a lesson it's invaluable. The kind people of Barclays have put this together and whilst I am always the sceptic I think I might continue with this afterwards just to see where I end up.



Once you have chosen your character you are dropped quite literally into a rainy night down on your luck  and then what follows is a number of scenarios. Do you wash up pots in the hope that you might get a better job of waiting tables. Do you rush to the first laundrette to wash you clothes not realising a nearby hotel would have done as part of their service charge. Do you do any volunteer work even though it will make you tired for your night shift? I would probably be a fish gutter and walking the streets or maybe just maybe be on my uppers. Actually who am I kidding - I would be working my ass off to get out of such a life and hopefully be soon on my way to the road called success. See, I am addicted already! I will most definitely show it my two kids. It might just help them be a bit more street savvy although he-man thinks he knows it all, been there done that and tried to get mum to buy the T shirt.



 



have a gander at 56sagestreet - it's useful tool to arm your teenagers with as they head out into the real world and if nothing else they could become aspiring fish gutterers


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Wednesday, 20 October 2010

crumbs in bed

I am never ill, never ever. I leave that to my sister who garners all the weird stuff from Bells Palsy during pregnancy to Slapped Cheek. I however am never ill. In the last month I have been ill not once but twice. In fact I am being ill right now here in bed. Never a good patient this time I took some well intended advice as I departed work with a drip white face, my ring of fire and an afternoon date with white porcelain. So I went to bed, after having a chat with He-man who was about to go to school.( A chat - good medicine for me that is.) There I stayed, fast asleep, until he careered into my room some four hours later for another chat. Then She-ra arrived home delighted to see my car at home and idles in for a chat."I'm going for a poo and then I'll come sit with you" she announces. OK, too much information but well intended. although I did have to clench buttocks and make concerted effort not to gip when she throws herself back on my bed, bouncing me all over the place and still in her stinky football gear.
Sister of weird illnesses stated she and hers were also ill last week with similar symptoms and that she felt she had something stuck in her stomach all week but she blames mine of kissing boys as hot date dragged his poorly ass over to mine last week and took himself off to my lovely clean sheets to sweat it off. Hm lovely.

Now I have got out of the suit I have collapsed back into bed in, have my pj,s n hoodie on, laptop at the ready, daughter baking for England, son walking dog, both being attentive and having a nice cup of lemon tea.I'm thinking I should be a better patient in future and give into it and not soldier on. I never get any brownie points for it. But right now what I'd really like is something scrumptious to eat but don't think my stomach could, well, stomach it. But can't stop thinking about marmite on toast, coq au vin, chicken noodle soup, thai curry, beans on toast, beef casserole....

Monday, 18 October 2010

Been doing a bit of this...

Been busy of late but there' s been a bit of this going on round are way.....
She-ra to me on my day off
"you are going walking? On your day off? You are officially weird!"

He-man
" Why do you keep buying Apple juice? No one drinks it! It's just There! Everywhere you turn, kinda menacing..." Clearly there will be a lot of people dressed as scary apple juice cartons this Halloween. In fact I have started leaving apples in his bed and apple juice cartons outside his bedroom door.

Grandad " Ha! Am smoking lassies turd" In fact it was a F*ckin' huge cigarhe was puffing whilst watching He-man play rugby. He is now an Official Legend with He-man's mates.

Playing Just dance on t'wii for my sister to review was brilliant fun and I worked up a reet sweat. Bring it on 15y old niece I will whoop your ass next time

Bro-in-law to He-man " Hey son, time for marmite n a beer"

I planted a lasagne of bulbs this weekend. Lasagne I ask you just fancy for layering.

Discovered - You can't go to sleep with velcros rollers in your hair

Also discovered that if your beloved pretends to push you off a stepping stone ( in middle of river ) then it is his look out if you then subsequently hit him in the bollocks trying to regain your balance.

It is time to get the thermals out and layer up properly when going to watch He-man play rugby. It was bloody cold yesterday despite the sun being out. I should also note that it is not a good idea to bring 3 unwashed-after-playing-rugby-teenage boys back in your car. Pegs please! Some one bring me some pegs from my nose like now!

Have clipped a few minutes off my incredibly slow running speed despite having been out of action.

I need to clip some time off my incredibly fast driving. Why is it when I see a motorway that I put my foot down and drive like I'm on an Autobahn in my clapped out French car. What speed limit? I should take note from Auntie Gwen.

Started a job I wish I had never started. Sanding the wooden work surfaces. What was I thinking?! Here's me wanting a nice relaxing week off work and Day 1 and 3 has seen me sanding for all I am worth. I think I have vibrating finger from using the recently purchased mouse sander too much. Can I put in a compensation claim? And on that note I shall go back to living my life of mundane.





Monday, 11 October 2010

Speedos, attitude, and mumping

I read lots of blogs about parents with teenagers. I love the camaraderie, the shared angst, the low slung underpant tale and the what time did you call this story. I always seem to find though that these are parents of children who know when to buckle down, who know when the boundary has been pushed too far and that they are now prepared to put some effort in. This is where our similarities end. And my anguish begins.

My son, who I love so much, can charm the birds out of the trees is Difficult with a capital D. If he has a last warning he has to go for it. If he has to apply himself he just doesn't bother. The laziness is in the extreme just like the partying. Always the last to leave, the latest to return home. Now we have got into 6th form, just, he is already kicking back. he clearly doesn't want to be there. This infuriates me. I knew this would happen yet he refused all my offers of help - let's look at alternatives etc. Now he's there he hates it despite all his earlier claims of wanting to settle down and prove all and sundry that he is capable. That was short lived. The teachers have gone from "wow he's great " to "oops he's slipping into bad habits again. "Although a recent meeting with them was really positive and they do seem genuinely want to help him. Even the Lesbian PE teacher with size 14 feet as he-man puts it wants to help him, much to my surprise.Course it doesn't help that a recent letter from Mr X caused He-man to go off the deep end just when he needs stability in his life.

I despair. At what point is he going to wake up and smell the coffee. We dropped off a CV tonight at a big chain DIY store. Just a part time job filling shelves. Over 500 applicants for 5 posts. He did pass comment but as if the fierce competition was nothing to do with him.

I worry about him . I worry about what will happen to him. I worry how he will feel if he doesn't realise his full potential and is stuck in crap jobs. Intellectually he could run rings round you and that would kill him in a crap job. He toys with you like a cat with a spider and has had great fun goading me tonight watching me laugh uncontrollably as his twaddle.

The mumping I can cope with. The biting my head off by asking the wrong question at the wrong time too. As long as I know he is working and studying as the pay off. The feeling is that raising teenagers is like having a jigsaw without the picture and all the pieces are scattered everywhere - just where do you begin to fit it all together?

The offers to help him with his career to make an informed choice falls on deaf ears. A suggestion to look at apprenticeships meets with a sneer. Yet the previous week he was going to be an engineer cum plasterer. Now he is talking about becoming a lifeguard and leaving to live in the south of France in pair of red Speedos. I know most 16 year old don't know what they want to do but at least they apply themselves in the meantime.

So what do I do? There isn't much left in reserves to help him through. I am nearing the end of my tether as my son looks like he is about to go off into the sunset in a pair of speedos and a massive attitude and 0 qualifications.

And then it dribbled down my leg...

I run. I run to combat stress of daily life. I run to combat the cakes I like to eat and the wine I like to drink. I run to get rid of excess energy when I have mother-to-teenager combat. I run very fast then. I also run very fast when we have contact from the Dark Side, (Mr ex ) of which we had an occurence last week.

On Friday as I was about to dash out my daughter pointed out my nipples. I was wearing a new-don't-knock-me-over-in-the-dark-bright-pink top. Apparently I was sporting a Rachel look as in her off Friends. " Rub 'em mum then they'll go down " She advised. What crap advice that was, the more I rubbed the bigger they got. What was I to do? Feck it, I went anyway as am used to car toots etc as I run. I swear if I had three heads and a hunchback I'd still get them.


That, I thought, was the end of that. Then half way round I got chronic stomach pains. The sort you get after eating a dodgy curry. Only I hadn't had the pleasure. Never mind, thought I, soldier on. The cramps were getting worse. I can't be running that fast I thought. I started to think of the horror stories people had told me of marathon runners getting caught short and having to shit themselves or have a dump at the side of the road. Marathon runners! I'm doing a quick 6K before tea. By now I was in absolutely agony but still running with buttocks clenched extremely tightly. I also cursed my decision to abandon the full length Lycra jobbies ( geddit ) for the short cropped pants. If I do shit myself, I'm thinking, it is going to dribble down my leg for the whole world to see on their way home on a Friday night. This could be my ultimate embarrassing moment. By now I was in a bit of state, the dog was looking at me bizarrely and eventually I had to let rip. There was a clap of thunder as I did the largest fart ever and then continued to run out of sheer embarrassment. Thinking the fart might have alleviated the situation I felt a bit happier but now the flood gates were open and I thunder clapped my way along until I could run no more. I dropped to a stagger clutching my stomach thinking any minute now any moment I am going to FOLLOW THROUGH!


Needless to say my trainers are still white and never have I rushed to the bathroom so quickly. The sharing person that I am I told She-ra who felt it was too much information but very funny and even funnier that I shared it with Hot Date. "Mum, there are just some things you shouldn't do..."

Thursday, 30 September 2010

how long will it be?



How long will it be before my gorgeous lovely nephew goes from this....
to this....
sister be warned. This was just a mild stunt. My nephew was eyeing this lot up on Saturday It wont be long before the trousers are down his backside and he's rolling with the big fellas.









What to wear

Help!

I don't know what to wear. I am attending an awards ceremony with my team on Monday. We're shortlisted. Or short arsed as my sister would put it. I have worn all my own posh frocks bar one so have been on the scrounge and now I just don't know what to wear. I am totally spoilt for choice. So I need your help to decide.
Do we go for Dress A? A maxi number, that with the right bra could work very well. Not sure what to do with my hair or what shoes to wear with it ( heels, given my apparently dwarfish status - I don't think 5'6 is small but it is in my family )
so I give you Dress A....
and here is dress B - a slinky sexy number...Both A & B have the added advantage that I can scoff huge amounts of the Michelin starred food we will be served and I will be still be able to breathe. I don't think I can say the same for Dress C, a red velvet number, proper vintage (madmen era ) and ahem - snug fitting.

She-ra set up the shots. I particularly like the way she has managed to capture the domesticity of the situation with one of those washing machine plastic thingys in the foregraound. I also like the way she got me to act all relaxed like, just like a top model. She even managed to capture I-have-just-got-home-from-work-and-am-absolutely-knackered look perfectly. David Bailey need not worry and as for me taking over from Linda Vaginablister - she can sleep safe in her bed tonight. But in the meantime if you could be so kind as let me know whether I should go for A B or C I would be much obliged. I'll let you know if we win....


Wednesday, 29 September 2010

Food - see the pleasure

The Gallery theme of food this week will no doubt bring lots of fab sexy photos of delish looking offerings that you just want to pop straight into your mouth. Mine however are somewhat different.....
offering 1 & 2 - the drunken snack as favoured by bro-in-law. My son just stays up for the spectacle of the blaspheming, swaying, marmite munching drunkard. All I can hear is " Uncle ! your toast has popped up!" Whilst my sister shrieks " do not swear!" at her husband.

Offering 3 - She-ra. you can see the pleasure as she tucks into the biggest piece of Victoria Sponge cake at a National Trust Caff in Cornwall. Simple pleasures. mine took a more liquid form - see empty glass of rose to the right.






Thursday, 23 September 2010

Less Heigh Ho more Doh!

My 16 year old son thinks he is bang on trend. I think he looks like a chav. Maybe if that is the trend he wants to follow then yes, he's bang on trend. If I was to be kinder then I would say that he has followed those height challenged Disney faves the Seven Dwarfs. Like them he loves bright colours, wears his trousers underneath his arse ( Doc I believe ) and sports a hat of a similar fashion. Not only that but he can be any one of them at any time, Doc, Sleepy, Grumpy ( most of the time ), Happy, Dopey ( Doh !), Bashful and Sneezy (it's the cat allergy )

When he was a little boy, actually he was never a little boy he always looked like he was going to be prop forward for England, he always looked reasonably turned out. We sported the usual granny knit jumpers and jeans combo.



The flashing light trainers and cute stuff from GAP or M&S. I am try to pinpoint at what time did this change? When did his trousers work themselves so far down his arse cheeks that you saw more underpant than anything else? When did his shoes become so big that you could smuggle a illegal immigrants in them? When did wearing trackie bots become the norm and no longer the attire he wanted to wear when he went to rugby training? I yearn for the combat shorts and quirky Tee.


The hats have been permanently glued to his head for about 3 years now. He sports a number of different style;. baseball, Davy Crockett, beanie - we have 'em all.

And what is really worrying he seems to be some sort of trend setter at school. Since when did he become that?! My daughter is permanently embarrassed as her friends, male and female, moon over his good looks and attire. "What, she says in disbelief, do they see in that?"

Of course I was NEVER like that. Where the hell will He-man's fashion sense take him, Beach bum look in his 40's?







Tuesday, 21 September 2010

Smile and the world smiles with you..



Gallery does it again with a challenge of "a smile " aw so sweet. The kids would have been an easy option so I opted to make it harder for myself. If anyone had a camera aimed at me at the moment I have the permanent grin of a love sick teenager, less smile more mooning. So I fished this one out. Let me know what you think.....
This was my little big sister on the day after her wedding day party stage 2. This is my wonderful brother in law for whom I hold in great esteem. Laura does not dance,ever. But they had hired a salsa band and the music was fab. I can't resist a good merengue or cha cha and we were all up dancing - a first. I can't remember much of the rest of the evening but I just love this picture, it just captures how happy my sister was and still is.

Love to you both

Big little sister.

Tuesday, 14 September 2010

Celebration - my arse!




This week's gallery challenge theme is celebration. after haranguing Tara to give me an early insider head start, to no avail, I might add, I thought
I really have to give this a go. I think I have only managed a couple of postings to this excellent idea but life seems to have taken me over recently or should that be I have a life at the moment. Anyway supreme effort has been made to do this posting, I have shouldered past the teens to monopolise the pc at 8pm of an evening for this. Thought you should know just how much effort I really have put in. Here goes...


This was my 40th birthday celebration.


For my 40th birthday I wanted a party at home with my nearest and dearest friends. However, Mr X stood firm and would not let me do it in case it ruined his precious frickin wooden floor. "Think of all those stiletto heels." So I opted for a fancy dress in a local club house. Theme;icon. This photo shows myself as Liza Minelli, Grumps as Victor Meldrew ( I know the likeness is uncanny ), my sister as Magnum pi ( she really does love a moustache, can you see it falling from her mush?) and bro-in-law as Adam Ant. Missing from this photo was Mr Ex. In fact he was missing most of the day preferring to spend it with his head down the toilet fixing something that didn't need fixing. I arrived at the event without him, mingled without him, spent most of the night without him and went home without him. I should have seen it coming really. 1 year and 3 weeks later it was all over. I would like to point out that I did have a good time with my fab friends but it wasn't the evening I had really wanted.


1 year later this was celebration I wanted. Daft quizzes a la Never Mind the Buzzcocks, great food supplied by all and the biggest bottle of red wine I have ever seen. All with my fab friends and family. In my home.With plenty of dancing. Lots of stiletto heels. Lots of chair scraping and all over the frickin wooden floor too. I like a good celebration me.






Monday, 13 September 2010

Mad men makes me mad

Mad men. I'm a late comer to this TV show but have been catching up on Series 1 the i-player. Dad loves it,it is his era and remembers it well. Plus he was in advertising so it is even more pertinent. Firstly I love the fashion. I love the pneumatic curves of some of the females stars. I find myself wearing the few shift dresses in my wardrobe and thinking or either making or buying some more.

The smoking! I can't believe how much they all smoke. I am old enough * ahem but only just to remember when people still smoked in offices. Clearly I was a child visiting parents and not actually working in an office myself. But bloody hell they really smoke like bleedin' chimneys.

The drinking! Every deal in the office seems to be conducted over a large glass of Scotch. God if I did that I'd be slurring by lunchtime. How did they do it?

The subservient women. I don't know how they did that either. How did they put up with it. I think about my grandmother and her housewifery, forbidden to ever work again. She spent most of it miserable, chain smoking and plotting ways how to piss off her husband. Thank you forebears for getting us ladies ( supposed ) equal rights.

I'm trying really hard to like Mad Men, after all it has had great reviews and I am doing doubleepisodes per week but it hasn't quite got me. And that Don Draper just pisses me right off. And he has got thin lips.

Thursday, 9 September 2010

just piss on the border

The dog has had fleas. She has had tapeworm. Nice. In fact whilst away the little blighters bred like mad on my sofa. Double nice. I have de-flead the dog twice and the house. The spray nearly killed me. I didn't see anything on the instructions about wearing full body armour and a gas mask.

The fleas are still here. In the garden. It's that bastard fox that keeps coming in a digging up huge holes in the garden. It is mangy of the first order. And what the fuck is it looking for in my little patch of garden. Ironically it keeps digging up the foxglove. So how do I get rid of the fox that is infecting my lovely dog? Someone suggested a gun. One colleague feeds hers. Another has killed 2. (Am not sure about that one, a bit of poetic licence methinks) One colleague suggested the following:

Take one alpha male ( he-man step forward please )
Go forth and mark your territory ( say what ?! )
Go round the border of your garden n get a superior animal ie alpha male, to piss in your garden. The fox senses it and doesn't come back.

I thought he'd be well up for that, being asked to piss outside. He, however, he is outraged. The dog is auditioning for Itchy n Scratchy n I have unattractive flea bites on my ankles.

Thursday, 2 September 2010

No Time To Spare

Thank you to those who drop by my blog. Hopefully you have a read a bit of a chortle and maybe leave me a message or two. All is very welcome.
Inspired by English mum and her lists as I'm not being a brilliant blogger at the moment as I am doing the following:

Worrying - About He-man. He has got into 6th form by the skin of his teeth. He seems to have got his finger firmly pressed on the self destruct button and doesn't know how to stand back form it even though he wants to. He's been given til Christmas by school to get his act together. Clearly they see something in him that he can't. When I finally got to see him this week rather than have a nuclear fall out I reminded him that I am the best friend he will ever have and that includes helping to get through the tough times. I just hope he realises it before it is too late

Rolling eyes - She-ra is a proper stroppy 14y old. Hormones all over the place, Harumping and flouncing one minute all over you the next loving you soooooo much. Oh it's going to be a fun year.

Laughing - I have brilliant mates. We had a get together last weekend now the summer hols are over and it was fab too see them all. I, uncharacteristically, drank water as had HOT DATE. to go to and had to leave them to it. they kept going for some time and some even fell into bed fully clothed -well I never!

Dating - Yep am a luvved up lady at the moment. Pinching myself at my luck and hoping it doesn't run out. Keep reminding myself to take things slowly ( have ignored that,) and enjoy it ( am doing that )

Biting my tongue - Yep Dad is in town and doing his visit in reverse it would seem. Normally he builds up to hacking everyone off after having them all laughing in the aisles before hand. This time he is doing it the other way round. A constant butt of all the family jokes he takes it all in good stride and seems delighted that he has hardly seen any of his family as we are out doing stuff. 2 years on post divorce and it looks we are finally rebuilding are lives and getting our confidence back.

Working - ew. Really need to win that lottery. Am ready for a change to being a lady of leisure.

so tell me what have you been up to lately?



Sunday, 29 August 2010

..so then I stabbed it!

I have just returned from 5 days in Cornwall. Camping. We borrowed just about everything to enable to go on this journey of discovery. I will now share with you our discoveries: ( some of which can be applied to any holiday type)

  • That camping is not cheap, in fact it is bloody expensive buying all that clobber. Hence the borrower I be.
  • We stayed at a lovely site, close to the beach. Great for little kids however it did seem to have more than its fair share of teenage intolerant campers. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. May your children grow up in to tattooed slappers.
  • That I should have put more effort into finding roof bars. I think I could have won a Guinness World Record with the amount of stuff rammed into the car.
  • Should have allowed longer for packing and been more ruthless with "stuff."
  • Forgetting to pack your teenage son's electric shaver was a major incident and do instructions for shaving your legs apply to your face. The cuts on his wee bonce would say otherwise.
  • Peoples' definition of luxury differs. The campsite claimed they had luxury toilet/shower block. Hoorah I thought. I think the luxury was the fact that they existed and hey you have a door too. Ahem.
  • On the toilet front - when camping if you need a poo don't leave until the last minute. The dash across a field in the hope that there is a spare cubicle free is not dignified.
  • and on the poo note. Who the F*ck smeared shit all over the cubicle door. This is a luxury establishment don't you know?
  • Don't stand up if there is a lantern above your head. Still have the bump. In fact best tip is to spend much of your time in the tent hunched over. This is saying something as the family token dwarf.
  • Never has charging your phone in a warm launderette seemed so appealing.
  • You still get chavs on campsites.
  • You develop "mummy"skin - apparently -so I am told harrumph.
  • You wear the same things every day - see earlier note on packing. She-ra had taken 2 -3 outfits per day. He man stayed in more or less same tracky bots all week and I flaunted my new Benetton denim skirt until the weather forced me back into jeans.

  • At no time did any of us need the coats my sister insisted we take for the midnight pee run. Bladders are all intact on this side of the family thank you very much.
  • Surfers look cool to my kids, spesh the tats n piercings n baggy shorts. Lord give me strength. I am particularly fascinated in their vacant expressions dude.
  • The weather forecast is your bible. The weather forecast lies in Cornwall.
  • There is a skill to getting an earwig of one sleeping pod. IE don't unzip as it vanishes with the shake of Harry Potter's wand and you wake up with it crawling out of your hoodie sleeve.
  • Yes that's right hoodie. for my summer holiday night attire I wore bed socks, pj's, 3 tees, a very thick hoodie (with hood up) under thick sleeping bag and car rug. I remember when all I used to wear on a summer night was sweat.
  • Question how do you have rumpy pumpy in a tent with all that clobber and the whole campsite listening?
  • If you have a nightmare and do that scary nightmare screaming the whole campsite will hear and look at you very strangely the next night.
  • You get a smug feeling when you hear a perfect family having a bolshy kid moment.
  • You develop tent envy.
  • You worry about daughter's morals as she spends much of the week plotting to steal a wooden pole to replace the missing one on the windbreak.
  • The windbreak in an ESSENTIAL camping item.
  • The family gas BBQ isn't an essential camping item.
  • At pot wash someone has camping envy of your posh BBQ. Maybe it is an essential item after all?
  • You sleep well- tis all that fresh air. Or maybe it was the Drowsy formula Benylin and brandy chasers you've taken to swigging as a nightcap. ( note to self maybe I could market it to replace RBV's)
  • Body boarding is fun and getting in and out of a wetsuit can take up much of the day.


  • On one of the few good weather days we spent a lovely evening on the beach, with friends, having BBQ, laughing and watching the sun go down. Larverley.

  • The stabbing incident. The f*ckin' airbed wouldn't go down when we were packing to go home. ( in the rain I might add). Daughter's deflated every night, mine deflated beautifully. He-mans' wouldn't budge. After sometime wrestling with the cap I did what any sane person would do. I stabbed it, several times.
  • Packing a tent away in the rain is akin to wrestling with a giant slug. Oh how we larfed.
  • Booking a hotel ( thank you Aztec Hotel Shire hotels) for the return with swimming pool, sauna, jacuzzi etc was my best decision ever.
  • Driving nearly 1000 miles meant lots of time in the car with my kids. However it was quality time. They spent most of it asleep or I learnt stuff from them. We talked! That was worth the journey alone.
  • That as predicted by the end of the holiday I have declared that we are NEVER holidaying in the UK ever again and am looking at hot and sunny with in 24hours of return.
  • any suggestions on a budget of the loose change found down the back of the sofa and a couple of sweetie wrappers? Camping you say.......