Moreish - tick. Calorific - most likely. Easy Peasy - tick. Cute gift to take to dinner party - double tick. I made about 45 of these Christmas trees form following 100g Butter, room temperature 50g Grated strong cheddar or other equally pongy cheese 50g Parmesan 100g Plain flour pinch cayenne or chilli flakes Sesame poppy or fennel seeds to sprinkle on for decoration Pre heat oven to 180C/gas mark 4 Cut butter into chunks Put all ingredients apart from the seeds into food processor. Pulse it until it forms a ball. Believe me it does form a ball. Put in a bowl, cover with cling film and put in fridge for a good hour. Go do stuff Generously flour work surface Line a baking tray or three with greaseproof Put dough on work surface. Put the cling film on top of dough and roll it out. Keep lifting and turning it so it doesn't stick to the work surface. Roll out to about pound thickness Go crazy with your Christmas tree cutters, stars, bells whatever tickles your fancy Sprinkle with your seeds of choice. Bake for 10 - 15 mins until pale golden Take from baking sheet as soon as they come out of over as they will stick Delicious with aperitifs or on the cheeseboard. They don't hang around for long
Warning! If you don't like bodily fluids look away now.
There is a lump. Near my armpit area. It has been checked out and it's a "nothing to be worried about" lump. Can someone tell this to Lump please. It has been there quite happily minding its own business for the past year or so til recently. Something's made it angry. And you know what happens when you get angry ? Yes that's right you go green! Or in this case red and swollen. Think "how to get ahead in advertising" So when Lump wakes me in the middle of night because it's feeling very angry I try to placate it with Very Hot Water Salt Solution. It's getting very big and may explode at any moment. Take cover. You have been warned!
As I chowed down on my cob of corn, chin dripping with melted butter I was reminded of this recent article in Sunday Times by Mrs Mills. I bring it to you now for those lovers of a double entendre......
A reader had enquired to Mrs Mills how to tell the ripeness of sweet corn as their wife insisted you could tell by gently feeling the swollen cob. Whereas the husband felt a firm grasp and a peel back from tip was a better guide. There was also a query that ripeness could be guaged by crushing the seed to see if it produced a milky fluid. Mrs Mills, that sage oh so wise, settled the debate by claiming they were both right! A translucent milky fluid should indeed come out if pressed hard; the cob is overripe if thick and white. If you have pulled back the husk to soon an elastic band round the husk will keep it going til it's, er, ready.
I decided to see what others in the know suggested.
Jane Grigson offers further advice on how to prepare said cob by standing it upright, held at a slight angle and to scrape done as hard as you can. You should continue to do this more vigorously to get the last bits ( kernels I believe) and juice. Apparently it can be done quite rapidly too.
The BBC Gardening guide tells you that the corn is pollinated by the make flowers shedding onto the females tassels.Ripeness is indeed down to milky juice.
I love a list. Even looked to see if any university had compiled a check list of a what to do next and what to take. Sadly not. So I give you my list, for what's it's worth.
What to do next-
1 finance, hopefully this long sorted out before results day. Actually starting a children's Bond or some other saving scheme when they were born would have been a good idea. Talking through budgets and living costs is essential
2 student bank accounts. There are lots out there so choose wisely. We have got 2. One for all fees accommodation costs etc and the other for living expenses and where wages, if we get another job, will be paid into. This was a tip from students.
3 work. Update your cv and register with as many local temporary staffing agencies as you can before you go.also register with uni job shop to pick up extra hours
4 buy your resources or at least order before you go. When it comes to books second hand is better and so is the library. You could even wait until you get there and see what current students are selling off
5 insurance check your parents policy covers you away from home
6 transport. Even if you can drive and have a car I really wouldn't bother. A bike is good and low cost. Most unis have free bike maintenance courses too
Our list below is based on self catering halls. Some things are new, other items from home. We have done sweeps of Wilkinsons, mainly for kitchen utensils, Aldi, lidl and Sainsburys for the rest. All supermarkets have student related offers on.
Our list is based on the likelihood will be that you will share a kitchen. Why not get to know each other on Facebook beforehand and share items. Most universities have FB pages for halls. So do you really need 6 colander & 6 pan sets?
As Shera likes to cook we are taking following
Bottle opener/ corkscrew
Large sharp knife
Small sharp knife
Pizza tray and cutter
Tala measure , love these
Mixing bowl or as Shera said Sangria bowl
Bun tray - call it the gbbo effect but baking is really popular in unis. Its a great way to make friends and good fundraising activity too
A cookery book. Even though my daughter is pretty good in the kitchen we got Nosh for a Students which has budgeting advice and what to have in your store cupboard too
Crockery - we already a spare set
2 high ball glasses
2 wine glasses
3 mugs of normal, large and extra large size. For soup apparently " but don't we have bowls? "? I ask.
Permanent marker pen to label your milk, pizza etc
Multi purpose spray
Washing up liquid
Lots of bin liners. Can't emphasise that enough
Lots of cleaning cloths
Same goes for tea towels. If you gave ever been in a student flat don't touch the tea towel!
Toilet brush and cleaner
A clothes airer an essential items
On bathroom front if you have an en suite chances are a bathmat will be pretty useless. You are also very lucky.
On toiletry front I did a sweep of the usual stuff daughter uses. Plus condoms. Let's not be prissy here
Bag to be able to cart stuff home in like dirty washing
Bedding, and changes of bedding. Dark colours work better believe me.
Blankets or fleecy throiws or both
Mattress protector and topper
As the fire alarms in halls tend to off at all hours make sure you have something warm, quick and easy to get into. You could be stood outside in middle of night for sometime
Passport style photos- take them with you. You will need them for so many things
Passport and or drivers licence. Not only to enrol but If you need work you need I.D. Don't lose it!
A folder of important stuff . Like student finance letter, your AS12/ucas offer letter. Course and accommodation related things. A place to keep passport
I did a flow chart of what money comes and when and also when it goes back out again. Apparently this was useful. Visual learner see
On the clothes front, be sensible and remember to take a coat. See earlier comment about fire alarms. Also it might be warm in September but it quickly turns to autumn so pack wisely. You can always take other clothes at a later date. We also packed work attire. Smart black trousers and shirts not forgetting footwear.
Storage boxes to go under bed. We have these already so there are just going to be uplifted, full of shoes, and taken.
A lesson in how to wash clothes always helps. We've already got ironing sussed.
Chargers, laptops, speakers etc goes without saying.
Tvs we are trying with just a laptop fir streaming tv. If it doesn't work out then we will order one. Most seem to manage
On food front we will do a big shop when we get there rather than try and find additional space in car.
Some home comforts such as cushions, fairy lights ( even for boys) bunting, a favourite item and photos go well. Remember notice board pins too
Grandparents often want to help out and a good tip is to suggest gift vouchers. Either for supermarket shopping which can fe topped up on line. Or for clothes or toiletries at a later date. There are so many sorts at the check out these days and could be a welcome and timely gift.
I'm sure there are plenty if things you could add to my list. We had lists of items on a notice board that we could add to as we thought if things and tick off as we got them.
Please add your comments below
The list was compiled from advice from friends with students already in situ, colleagues in accommodation at my university and common sense.
As I readied myself for an evening of social engagements the lovely dress I wore recently to friends wedding was sadly lacking something that I had forgotten to remedy since the last outing. Having the right bra! At said wedding the strapless contraption I wore was so tight that half way through the day I ended up taking it off. Free boobing was in that day and I didn't care.
This evening was slightly different as there was a need to be demure and proper in the first half of the evening and party party lady later. He man pointed out that freeboobin was not an option, in a sensitive manner I might add.
After much faffing with tit tape and several other options I found an old forgotten wonder bra. Bright pink! Amazing cleavage! The lovely keyhole feature on the back was overcome and bra straps concealed. Heman managed to convey a look of " shes going to do this anyway " with "you look great mum" I decided the delicate orange spaghetti straps of my dress could take the wider fuchsia pink bra straps. Extra tit tape applied to keep in place. Cardigan donned for the demure bit and off I went.
Needless to say the cardigan had to stay on all evening. I got hotter and hotter in the restaurant aware of the cleavage rising like mounds of dough. Spillage occurring and not in a good way. I was also a acutely aware of the noise tittape makes when you move and it rips from the fabric. I am clearly applying it wrong,.
I arrived at the party still wearing cardigan. My friends didn't think anything of this as it was now a bit nippy (get it?) with the Indian summer failing to show with several ladies donning extra layers outside. A few dance moves later, aided by some fizz, the cardigan HAD to come off. I can only say the look of horror on my friends faces as they clapped eyes on my escaping boobs will stay with me for a while. Despite this I continued to dance in usual fashion, lots of arm waving etc without a care in the world.
I loved that bra. I love the dress. But I can't breathe in it with a strapless number on and bra less means it looks like I have packed up to go South for the autumn. Where is the pertness? *wails
Advice please most welcome.
She-ra is university bound. Got her first choice. A happy bunny. The guest room is accumulating stuff that will be needed at a rapid rate.
I am so pleased for her but clearly will miss her too. Who else will I be able to do these things:
- speaking a made up Scandinavian language every time a new scandi drama comes on
- kitchen disco dancing
- supreme cake baker and kitchen messer upperer
- a go getter try anything once which inspires me to do the same
- that 'look' when you both just know
- whole conversation conducted in Irish, Welsh, Geordie. We are none of these
-fashion guru. Apparently I am no longer capable of dressing myself and need her advice, whether I want it or not
- the same can be said of my make up. Don't get me started on eyebrows
- a great dog walker
- fellow binge TV viewer. Yo! Mr White Orange is the new black.
I could write a long list. Bon Voyage beautiful daughter. I am so very excited a
for you and damn bloody proud.
Today is a typical day in my wee life. Particularly when I have a house full of adults teens and wrinklies.
So far on this stay I have had to buy 1 new iron and 1 new toilet seat. It is day 5. She-ra declared that Grandad must be "shit wriggler" because no one else wobbles the downstairs loo like he does of which he oft to be found complaining. Meanwhile She-ra en-suite has developed a crack in the seat. Bear with me. To ensure that it was a seat crack and not her bottom she tested the variable like Goldilocks and the three bears trying out all 3 sanitary items of the house. Its definitely the toilet, she declared. After much dismantling and rearranging and losing my rag with her toilet seat that was never going to move, we now have rearranged & purchased toilet seats to suit all bottoms. This is rock n roll. At one point I did take a hammer to try and budge the screws etc and envisaged smashed porcelain. Not a good move.
As we are about to depart on our jolly leaving wrinklies on doggie day care I felt I should mow the lawn. This I did in the rain. I am sure this could be dangerous but I was on a mission.
In between time there has been the poker face off between 2 car dealerships as I have taken the plunge to buy a new mini and have been battling them down on price This is not what you want when you are trying to navigate Ryanairs check in system and deciding which bikini you should take.
The Kindle I ordered on express delivery has yet to arrive. No doubt I it will appear just as I'm going tomorrow. I couldn't face learning the new technology at this stage. The books I bought just in case it didn't arrive will have to go in my pants or something to avoid Ryan-airs draconian excess baggage charges.
We also had....
A Bolognese bubbling away all day which I managed to conjure up this morning.
A conversation with my mortgage company about fixed rates
Ink bought for the printer so we can print off Mr O'learys boarding pass requirements
There is a stack of ironing and dog giving me the sad face as she spied the cases.
God I need a holiday.
Oh and I'm out to dinner this evening. I feel a large glass of something coming on. Pass the Olives wont you.
I have been away for 2 nights for an annual conference and awards shin dig, bun fight - call it what you will. When I say 2 nights I'm not counting the first night really as we didn't arrive gone 11pm. So basically I'm away from home for not very long.
So can someone explain to me why in gods name did I pack 4 bras and 4 pairs of shoes. And that doesn't include the running shoes either. Not only did I pack excessive amounts of boulder holders but I threw in the tit tape just in case.
Tit tape! But I needed it as my floaty dress decided that it wanted to floaty away and had to be secured in place.
Having not brought any scissors and now in a desperate rush ( note to self pack scissors as well as kitchen sink next time ) I use man's only sharp cutting device, my teeth. Jesus I nearly pulled my teeth out the glue was that strong. I may have in fact removed the enamel. Suffice to say floaty dress did not move. The removal of tit tape at silly o'clock in the morning after a few sherbets was nearly forgotten about which could have led to me being glued to my bed the following morning. As it is I don't think the hair will grow there for some time.
When Dad and his wife come to stay I have to up the ante when it comes to meal times. They are foodies. There is no more "oh we'll just have poached egg on toast" or " use by dates are more of a guideline anyway" Not only do I have dinner but I have to think of lunch too. That's 2 meals per day! My poor wee brain can't cope. I love my food but am more of a n eat when I'm hungry girl. ( okay woman! )
Last time they came we had;
Roasted pear, toasted walnut and feta salad,
Pan roasted chicken with olives and vine tomatoes on bed of spinach with lemon courgettes,
Linguine with Pork polpette with lemon, chilli and pine nuts in a tomato, garlic and spinach sauce.
Steak and chips
Pulled pork and jerk sauce. Chilli Chicken
Pasta with a variety of sauces
The occasional roast
Most meals have a Mediterranean feel as dad is not a lover of things spicy/curry. I may try and inflict my chicken sag aloo.
I am writing this as I pat my Cheese baby belly. It's made up of the most wondrous cheeses washed down by equally wondrous wine, gin, sherry. Would that constitute a meal perhaps? Actually the amount of pre dinner drinks and nibbles often do constitute a meal!
Any meal ideas for their next trip which is looming, I mean in 2 weeks as they arrive for the Le Tour. I'm running out of ideas.
I am lounging in the garden mid afternoon finding off a tardy hangover ( Berocca do your thang) and wishing for a few zeds.
She -ra is lain beside me having a revision break. Also employing delaying tactics as she keeps throwing a deaf one to my mantra of "get back to your revision "
Delaying tactic 52 - spray mothers back with sun cream several times whilst she is dozing. This causes much hilarity as I spasm from the cold spray of Piz Buin.
Delaying tactic 55 - rub cream into mothers back then draw a huge penis in the cream on her back. More hilarity. I am shrieking " get that penis off my back!" Whilst also wondering about the amount of detail she put into said drawing.
Delaying tactic 56 - rubs cream liberally all over back but doesn't avoid the recently purchased expensive bra. " mind my bra mind my bra" "I am !" She harrumphed. "Undo the strap" I urge. Result! Back to those revision books in a flash
She-ra has had her last day ever of school. Year 13. Done. 'A' levels underway. 1 more exam and she is done. The last day of school seemed to revolve around planning where she and her pals were going to go drinking. This is the default position these days.
In the afternoon we got texts to let me know there was a leather jacket purchase.
Then texts such as this
At about 9pm a very happy slurry thing fell through the door. She talked gobbledy gook. She showed off her new purchase arrived back downstairs in pjs, gabbled a bit more and disappeared to her loft room. I believe she conked out and was out for the count when I peaked in later.
When she left for 6th form at 0730 in the morning earlier that day excited about her day ahead she shut the door the behind her and set off. As I locked the door I had a tear in my eye and a lump in my throat realising it was the end of an era with my youngest child. Job done.
That's our household at the moment. The 18 year old She-ra has just turned 18 and is finding the lure of the bright lights big city a difficult one to resist.But she is and gets on with her revision. Books are everywhere. Tensions are rising. There's such a lot riding on these next few weeks
Psssst.. got invited to a secret Bloggers Brunch last weekend. Was sworn to secrecy about location until now. My +one Matchmaker extraordinaire chum came with. We arrived at about 1130 with hungry bellies after both doing a moring run. We were ready for FOOD. Enter Soul Kitchen at The Wardrobe, Leeds. This is in the arty bit of town next to the West Yorkshire Playhouse and Northern Ballet if you want to get you bearings. I love The Wardrobe at the best of times, chilled, cool music, great atmosphere. Just what you want for a brunch venue, particularly if it was the morning after the night before.
The menus were brought out with milkshake the likes I have never seen
The Man Shake was chocolate, peanut butter, BACON!, and vanilla ice cream. I immediately thought of cosmic girlie. We didn't try it as we were too intent on stuffing our faces so our attention turned to the menu.
I opted for Egg and bacon muffins while my friend went for the pancakes bacon and maple syrup. We also had huge glasses of juice or in my case a Bloody Shame - spicy fiery no vodka but delicious.
Take a peek at the pics below and let me know what you think. At £17.50 for 2 with unlimited coffee and unable to eat for the rest of the day I'd say this was good value. Kids are welcome. Live music in the background. Make a brunch date make it at The Soul Kitchen The Wardrobe
Taras theme this week is A favourite place. It took me about 5 seconds to think of where this could be
Its the home of the original egg rolling hill. The place for many family walks. The refreshing start to the New Year obligatory walk with friends. It's where the kids learnt to ride their bikes. Where the dog leaps effortlessly up 6' high walls. It's where I come to be close to mum. Its a marvelous view.
Love me, love my farts, and those of my family even the dog. I know to some the act of farting is impolite, height of rudeness and not something to be rejoiced. Not in our family. They are a source of constant humour. For all ages. Septuagenarians down to winkies. Even the dog can do a comedy fart. Which is why it is important that a date, the current man friend, can celebrate all that is gaseous with the rest of us.
Hot date of some time was anti fart. ( read this earlier blog for my love of all things farty and his opposition) This meant no more of the morning salutation that sounded something to Colonel Hathi from the Jungle Book. It meant uncomfortable wriggling and jiggling to let one out, silently. I have to say that when that particular relationship was over there was a particular joyous moment when I did my first morning fart. Trumpety trump!
My family can recount tales of the best/worst fart moments from the annals ( geddit?) of time. My girlfriends laugh at the prospect of being an old woman letting slip. Or not so old. Toilet humour abounds with all that I know. No more will I hide my farting like guilty secret when in fact it is a guilty pleasure. Although having come out of the unisex Everybody toilets at Everyman cinema last night having accidentally let slip to face a (handsome) man grinning ear to ear waiting to use said cubicle I felt a little blush rising in my cheeks.
So back to dating. Should I hold back and wait a little longer to flush out my dates stance on farting? Not least it should detect a good sense of humour. Which is why on date 3 I think I need to flush out his stance on farting. This could be a make or break (wind ) moment. made worse by the fact that we are probably going to go for a curry! And suddenly this song pops into my head.
I have come from work late, again. The soon to be 18!!! year old She-ra is sat on the bottom step chewing the fat with me with a wet towel round her wet hair post shower.
We discuss the revision covered that day. The fact that she NEEDS, not wants, clothes shoes etc for her to wear on her birthday. The fact that she has hijacked my hair appointment.
She stands up " just shaking the wedgie out" Classy bird.
Meanwhile in the other corner the 19 year old He-man tells me that MUM in fact stands for
He has eaten all the bacon in the house. He mainly resides at his girl friend's coming home to scour the cupboards for good stuff to eat, shit shower and shave. Oh and use the wifi
I need clothes for work. I do. I do not enjoy buying clothes for work. I always seem to get it wrong and look like I'm about to meet world leaders. Suits suits me best because you can hide behind them, they require little thought when putting on, but they feel so formal, too formal, not mention more expensive. Always one for a bargain I will scour the rails from Tesco to House of Fraser and even my local charity shops. Benetton used to be my Go To shop when in need of smartish attire my nearest has closed down besides it's lost its appeal.
Dresses are also good but I feel naked without a jacket. Plus I tend to look at them and think I can make that. Only I can't it's just delusional thinking.
As for shoes my latest Miss KG acquisition of high suede heels are not as comfortable as I thought in the shop. I think age is creeping up on me again and is secretly guiding me towards a nice comfortable pair of mid heels. I am breaking out in a sweat just thinking about it.
A style point of reference for me is one of 2 choices. I love the style of the Dutch women. ( not mention the fact they all seem about 5" taller than me ) So cool and chilled yet sophisticated. Ready for work or to hop on a bike at any time. Or there is my good friend Meldy, ( Imelda Marcos) thus nicknamed for her vast shoe collection. Always immaculately dressed for any occasion and can oft be heard saying " I got this in the Tesco sale " whilst looking like million dollars.
I've never been a lover of Next or M&S but I'm getting desperate and may have to step over their threshold. My stint with a personal shopper last year may have got my groove back in one way but it's paralysed me in others. Plus I have to point out I don't like spending my money on having to look good for work anymore. Saying that as a keen supporter of the relative theory of shopping, it's not how much it is but how often you wear it, I can be persuaded. Scouring the internet last night I flitted from Asos to La Redoute to French Connection like a butterfly in search of the perfect flower.
Help me good ladies of t'interweb. Where do you shop what's your style?
I had to have a hand scan - see earlier post. Apparently its a "drop in centre" thing at my HOWGE HOWGE hospital. I chose to drop in on a Saturday morning rather than take a whole afternoon off from work.
This Times petition to get the hospitals working 24/7 looks to be paying off I thought as I bimbled in.I was all bright and bushy tailed, always happy to talk to anyone. First there was the receptionist no 1. By definition someone who should be receiving visitors, preferably in a friendly manner. This one had their back turned to me, was flat in enthusiasm and swift in their direction giving. So much so I had to ask 3 times before I understood what he said. He made you feel like an inconvenience. He also followed me through to the x-ray department and shouted at the team there for not letting him know that they were open today. Nice.
On arrival in emergency x-ray department, even though it wasn't an emergency but it was all that was open that day. The instruction to x-ray my hand I watched my doctor send with mine very own eyes had not arrived. Not only that despite giving my full name and birth date several times to have it shouted across a busy waiting area so they all knew exactly how old I am, found me not on the computer. It said NO! I did not exist! The receptionist reminded me Roz from Monsters Inc until I managed to crack a few jokes and get a smile.
Had I just moved to the area?
Had I changed dr?
Had I recently changed my name?No no no no no.
Had I ever been to the hospital before ? Yes several times over the years including last year
However with a bit of detective work the staff eventually found me under my previous married name, changed several years ago. Whilst this supposed bit of Miss Marple was going on I watched 2 elderly men in a state of undress and confusion be dropped off in a wheel chair by a silent porter who shuttled them about like cattle. Left them without speaking to them and shunted a piece of paper in front of the receptionist without saying a word before departing. The old men look frightened and without a shred of dignity. They sat in main corridor bewildered and confused. The place felt dirty and we all felt a little unloved despite the best efforts of the few staff that were on. The fact I could go in on a Saturday had been a boost I thought things were going in the right direction. The way in which people speak to you costs nothing. Changing that could have made such a difference.
What a sorry state of affairs the NHS is in.
With a blog title that can only mean one thing. Mother Nature has come a calling and she has brought me some unwanted gifts.
The old fingers may, according to my GP, be the start of arthritis. Wtf! One hand has swollen itchy sausage fingers. I did not associate that with arthritis. An X-ray is now scheduled to hopeful rule that out. Please god let it be a case of swollen itchy finger. Given my recent cereal box challenge and limber limbs it can't possibly be Arthur Itis.
Oh my lawd can someone turn the heating down! Oh my room is like an ice block you say. Well what's that foul sweaty odour in the middle of the night? Surely the dog is in my room doing silent sleepy farts? No? It's me?
Coarse hair giving you trouble? It never did me, before now. These days I seem to be on a permanent quest to find the perfect shampoo to turn my greying brunette Brillo pad locks into something more sleek shiny bouncy and youthful.
There is of course the unwanted hair in prominent places but I just can't face admitting to my bearded lady status just yet.
I'm having a birthday. In fact a weekend,nay a whole week, of celebrations. Its not a biggie but hey who cares!
It started with a well hatched plan with my Scottish Besie.
Hitting the ground running the moment she arrived a group of us embraced the delights of the inner city, venturing where we have never ventured before. It was Fab.U.Lous Dahlink! It was the next day that I learnt of my friends' recently discovered incontinence problem. Ok Ok so she isn't incontinent but rather the victim of a hot water bottle disaster that found her swimming across the bed in the middle of the night. I'm such a good friend!
To reward me for my efforts she took my to Harvey Nichols for Tail of the Cock. Bring on Pink Lady. My new favourite cocktail. Can I live like this every weekend? I took my wee girl from the sticks to a proper cinema. All hail Everyman - we bloody love you! We are so rock n' roll we drank mint tea - with a tea pot - whilst we watched 12 years a slave.
It would appear that having watched a lot of sadness and beautiful buttocks on the big screen we needed a cheer up when we came home from our mid afternoon viewing. A Marks & Spencer meal for 2 and Magic Mike was double buttock-licious And I give you the ingredient for a superb weekend.
Can I just say, #cijs, we do NOT look like Cagney & Tracey but far more Charlies Angels!
Oh my lordy Lord it is 2014! Where has 2013 gone to?! Where has the blogging brain cells gone too? Last seen writing about banana cake some 2 months ago I have been bereft of time to jot nothing more than ideas.
I give you my notes with words yet to be created....
He's got it up! - the one about my father father finally realizing a life ambition and self publishing his first novel. Click here if you want to read it for your self
I've got the builders in - Not a euphemism I genuinely had the builders in
Ebay hell and back - it is always hell whether you are buying or selling. I am now the proud owner of a John Lewis sold wooden wardrobe with bits missing that I have had to glue together and hope that no one stands on the bottom shelf like I did. I have waited in for randoms to collect various items and strike up bizarre door step conflab.
E-unharmonious - my trials with eharmony as I tried to claim a refund under the Sale of Good Act. Seriously how can you possibly strike up a conversation with someone when you get no photo and 12 words to describe them with eg Question - what cant you live without? Answer Fresh air!. I may still write this blog
Annual Wreath Making Society no 17 - it's been it's gone I had not got a jot of Christmas mojo until about 24 hours before the event. My efforts were pathetic this year but good friend of Christmas log fame excelled herself this year.
New Year - that's been and gone too! I can take it or leave it. This year I embraced it with both arms. Come one 2014 make it a good one.
...and with that I have done nothing more than jots, embraced my instagram or twitter for illiterate as some may call it. Hey a picture can say a thousand words and on instagram I'm prolific