Wishing you all a very Happy New Year.
Im not gone, just temporarily in draft.
Sarah xx
fudge
Thursday, 29 December 2011
Saturday, 24 December 2011
And So Is This Christmas?
The tree glows and sparkles,the presents piled beneath
Fairy lights twinkle around picture frames and doors.
The fridge is laden with festive food.
Reindeer food, a mixture of oats and glitter lies waiting to be sprinkled on the path and thrown in a shimmering cloud into the lights from the street.
There it will stay.
The food uneaten, presents still wrapped.
The glow of the lights have lost their magic.
Tomorrow, like today, I will wake alone.
Yesterday, in a culmination of threats, abuse and obscene photos my children were snatched by their father.
Fairy lights twinkle around picture frames and doors.
The fridge is laden with festive food.
Reindeer food, a mixture of oats and glitter lies waiting to be sprinkled on the path and thrown in a shimmering cloud into the lights from the street.
There it will stay.
The food uneaten, presents still wrapped.
The glow of the lights have lost their magic.
Tomorrow, like today, I will wake alone.
Yesterday, in a culmination of threats, abuse and obscene photos my children were snatched by their father.
Tuesday, 13 December 2011
My Shitty House Strikes Again!
Some people would consider me lucky to own my own house.
(Well, I WOULD actually own it had I made some different decisions about 15 years ago. As it is the bank still own almost half of it).
Today, in fact MOST days I envy people who rent.
People who can pick up the phone to a renting agency or landlord and say, 'the bulbs exploded in one of the bathroom spotlights and I can't get the rest of it out' or 'the tumble dryer and the dishwasher are knackered' and out comes a man who can to fix things.
Yesterday was a really good day.
The children and I laughed and joked all morning until they went off to school with smiles on their faces.
The sun shone in the morning and Gus and I went for a romp in the park. Gus was joined by Coco, the fattest chocolate lab I've ever seen but with whom Gus is totally in love.
I met the lovely L for coffee in town and Big D joined us.
I came home and cooked Shepherds Pie for tea (the children's favourite) and we cracked open the Quality St and watched the Christmas edition of My Family.
All was well in the Mac household.
And then BANG - everything went off.
Something had blown the trip. It was dark, it was cold, It was blowing a fucking gale outside and lashing down with rain.
We stumbled around in the dark unplugging everything and repeatedly trying the trip switch but no, it kept flipping off again.
Then I heard it.
Drip, drip, drip.
My shitty roof is leaking again and water was coming through the landing ceiling.
I HATE that fucking roof!
A couple of years ago it developed a leak and brought down part of my bedroom ceiling.
Well, fine, I had insurance so I called them up.
I would say they sent out a jumped up little twat but tbh even if he had jumped as high as he possibly could he wouldn't have made it to my shoulder.
Very small men either love me or hate me. No idea why. Either delusions of grandure (in stature) or an inferiority complex I guess.
Anyway, this one hated me on sight (despite two cups of effing tea and biscuits).
He went half way up the ladder to the loft (which meant his head was barely level with the hatch) got out his wind up torch - yes, I said WIND UP TORCH with a beam that a candle could have put to shame and pronounced the roof in bad repair and therefore NOT covered by insurance.
This despite the met office confirming gales the night before.
FUCK YOU insurance company for taking my money for over 20 years and sending a slimy little toad round to squirm out of coughing up.
So I forked out for a temporary fix and applied to the local council for a grant.
Well FUCK YOU TOO council.
Apparently my roof wasn't bad enough to warrant a grant to sort it. Having been in place for over 100 years it had up to 5 years left before it completely fold and buries our bodies under the rubble!
So, that leave me with a roof that the insurance won't fix, the council won't fix and I can't afford to fucking fix!
Well, the electric inexplicable started working again.
This is either a good thing meaning that not much of the electrics got watered OR a bad thing in that they are working despite being wet and at some point the whole frigging house is going up in flames.
I decided not to take any chances and stayed awake all night listening to that bastard wind and rain lashing down.
Today I am tired and cranky and I want to burn the bloody house down myself and cut out the middle man!
(Well, I WOULD actually own it had I made some different decisions about 15 years ago. As it is the bank still own almost half of it).
Today, in fact MOST days I envy people who rent.
People who can pick up the phone to a renting agency or landlord and say, 'the bulbs exploded in one of the bathroom spotlights and I can't get the rest of it out' or 'the tumble dryer and the dishwasher are knackered' and out comes a man who can to fix things.
Yesterday was a really good day.
The children and I laughed and joked all morning until they went off to school with smiles on their faces.
The sun shone in the morning and Gus and I went for a romp in the park. Gus was joined by Coco, the fattest chocolate lab I've ever seen but with whom Gus is totally in love.
I met the lovely L for coffee in town and Big D joined us.
I came home and cooked Shepherds Pie for tea (the children's favourite) and we cracked open the Quality St and watched the Christmas edition of My Family.
All was well in the Mac household.
And then BANG - everything went off.
Something had blown the trip. It was dark, it was cold, It was blowing a fucking gale outside and lashing down with rain.
We stumbled around in the dark unplugging everything and repeatedly trying the trip switch but no, it kept flipping off again.
Then I heard it.
Drip, drip, drip.
My shitty roof is leaking again and water was coming through the landing ceiling.
I HATE that fucking roof!
A couple of years ago it developed a leak and brought down part of my bedroom ceiling.
Well, fine, I had insurance so I called them up.
I would say they sent out a jumped up little twat but tbh even if he had jumped as high as he possibly could he wouldn't have made it to my shoulder.
Very small men either love me or hate me. No idea why. Either delusions of grandure (in stature) or an inferiority complex I guess.
Anyway, this one hated me on sight (despite two cups of effing tea and biscuits).
He went half way up the ladder to the loft (which meant his head was barely level with the hatch) got out his wind up torch - yes, I said WIND UP TORCH with a beam that a candle could have put to shame and pronounced the roof in bad repair and therefore NOT covered by insurance.
This despite the met office confirming gales the night before.
FUCK YOU insurance company for taking my money for over 20 years and sending a slimy little toad round to squirm out of coughing up.
So I forked out for a temporary fix and applied to the local council for a grant.
Well FUCK YOU TOO council.
Apparently my roof wasn't bad enough to warrant a grant to sort it. Having been in place for over 100 years it had up to 5 years left before it completely fold and buries our bodies under the rubble!
So, that leave me with a roof that the insurance won't fix, the council won't fix and I can't afford to fucking fix!
Well, the electric inexplicable started working again.
This is either a good thing meaning that not much of the electrics got watered OR a bad thing in that they are working despite being wet and at some point the whole frigging house is going up in flames.
I decided not to take any chances and stayed awake all night listening to that bastard wind and rain lashing down.
Today I am tired and cranky and I want to burn the bloody house down myself and cut out the middle man!
Sunday, 11 December 2011
Badoozled!
At 4:09am this morning I was 'In a relationship'
Obviously, being me, I was completely oblivious to this fact!!!
(You may have noticed that I amreally fucking ever so slightly dense when it comes to matters of the heart)
But surely there would have been some kind of sign if I was??
Toilet seat up? Check.
Remote hidden down the side of the sofa? Check.
Boxer shorts on the floor next to the washing basket but not quite in it? Check
Empty milk carton in the fridge? Check.
Ok, well that almost had ME convinced until (thank god) I remembered I had a 13 year old, man in the making in the shape of Master Mac in the house!
So it was starting to look like I'd been FB fraped, but at 4am the prime culprits (my children) had been fast asleep in bed.
Curious ...
Until I noticed that my email inbox was overflowing with new messages and then, slowly all became clear!
That bloody dating link on FB - Badoo had yet again reactivated my account (which I didn't intentionally open in the first place).
Not only that, they had somehow updated my relationship status AND posted several of my FB profile pics onto their website!!
FFS, do they not REMEMBER the tirade this let loose upon them last time they did that to me?
Have they forgotten my promise to remove their gentiles with a blunt instrument and pelt them to death with their bruised and bloodied balls if they took liberties with me ever again?
It's not like I have a problem with dating websites per se. I did after all sign up to one in the past but I DID NOT sign up to Badoo!!
I did however pop on for a bit to have a nose and check out my messages though (just so I could confront those Badoo people with a few facts you understand ...... ;)
In the space of the last 12 hours or so it seems that I have gone from a big, red thumbs down (popularity VERY low - nobody loves you) to a big green thumbs up (popularity very high - you are a goddess amongst women).
94 men have viewed my profile.
87 want to meet me.
32 have added me as a favourite.
And I have 61 unread messages.
Phew, must have been a slow night!!
But then I started thinking ...
Hang on a minute - 94 have viewed my profile and yet only 87 wanted to meet me?
Does that mean 7 men looked at me and found me wanting???
How fucking DARE they!
And why did only 32 add me as a favourite? Do they not know I am a goddess!!!
I am VERY tempted to message them and ask them what exactly IS their problem!
Meanwhile I'm hiding out at home terrified to go to the Supermarket in case I bump in to any of them!
Badoo - hold on to your balls because I'm coming to get you!
Obviously, being me, I was completely oblivious to this fact!!!
(You may have noticed that I am
But surely there would have been some kind of sign if I was??
Toilet seat up? Check.
Remote hidden down the side of the sofa? Check.
Boxer shorts on the floor next to the washing basket but not quite in it? Check
Empty milk carton in the fridge? Check.
Ok, well that almost had ME convinced until (thank god) I remembered I had a 13 year old, man in the making in the shape of Master Mac in the house!
So it was starting to look like I'd been FB fraped, but at 4am the prime culprits (my children) had been fast asleep in bed.
Curious ...
Until I noticed that my email inbox was overflowing with new messages and then, slowly all became clear!
That bloody dating link on FB - Badoo had yet again reactivated my account (which I didn't intentionally open in the first place).
Not only that, they had somehow updated my relationship status AND posted several of my FB profile pics onto their website!!
FFS, do they not REMEMBER the tirade this let loose upon them last time they did that to me?
Have they forgotten my promise to remove their gentiles with a blunt instrument and pelt them to death with their bruised and bloodied balls if they took liberties with me ever again?
It's not like I have a problem with dating websites per se. I did after all sign up to one in the past but I DID NOT sign up to Badoo!!
I did however pop on for a bit to have a nose and check out my messages though (just so I could confront those Badoo people with a few facts you understand ...... ;)
In the space of the last 12 hours or so it seems that I have gone from a big, red thumbs down (popularity VERY low - nobody loves you) to a big green thumbs up (popularity very high - you are a goddess amongst women).
94 men have viewed my profile.
87 want to meet me.
32 have added me as a favourite.
And I have 61 unread messages.
Phew, must have been a slow night!!
But then I started thinking ...
Hang on a minute - 94 have viewed my profile and yet only 87 wanted to meet me?
Does that mean 7 men looked at me and found me wanting???
How fucking DARE they!
And why did only 32 add me as a favourite? Do they not know I am a goddess!!!
I am VERY tempted to message them and ask them what exactly IS their problem!
Meanwhile I'm hiding out at home terrified to go to the Supermarket in case I bump in to any of them!
Badoo - hold on to your balls because I'm coming to get you!
Saturday, 10 December 2011
Is It Possible The Children Have Secretly Drugged Me?
Because I can't think of any other reason why I'm feeling quite so cheerful today!
It's been a pretty shite week what the burns, electric shock and the puking and then earlier when I went to step over the damned dog (who ALWAYS lies in doorways) he got up when I had one leg cocked (usually his prerogative!) and we did this kind of canine rodeo for a few seconds while I tried to regain my balance and he tried to work out why the fuck I was riding him.
It ended badly of course.
I crashed into the merchants chest (that's a 15 drawer chest of drawers btw ;) right on the bloody corner. I am going to have such a HUGE bruise on my thigh tomorrow and Gus slunk away like only a Border Collie can sending me 'don't you be a ridin' me again lady' looks over his shoulder and took refuge under the coffee table.
Anyhow, that's by the by. I don't care WHAT the children snuck into my coffee, I LIKE IT (give me more!)!
So, before the burning, puking, electrocuting stuff happened I had a blog post in the making based on ..... feel there should be a drum roll here .....
A NIGHT OUT!
Nothing earth shattering. Nothing grand. Nothing that required dressing up for.
I went to see a local band that my friends husband plays bass in.
Ahh, but that's where it all becomes a little surreal.
If you haven't experienced a proper English country pub then I insist you pack up your bags and come on over here.
You can even stay with me if you don't mind my shitty kitchen, my crappy bathroom and the bastard cat.
I've got village dress code down pretty well I like to think and so off I went in my jeans, t-shirt, Uggs and suede jacket.
BUT,very importantly, I'd forgotten that this was Bishop Lydeard and Bishops Lydeard is only a stones throw from Bridgwater (and no, I haven't missed out an e in that name, that's how they spell it which gives you just a little insight).
Bridgwater used to be best known for the British Cellophane factory. Actually, it was best known for the SMELL of the British cellophane factory and all the mind changing chemicals which surely must have been wafted from the great chimneys to produce Bridgwaatter folk.
No really. They are frankly, fucking odd!
Anyway, I soon realised I'd got the dress code completely wrong.
I should have been wearing skin tight black satin trousers, a pair of 6" stilettos and an orange asymmetrical off one shoulder ruffled polyester blouse with tits down to my belt buckle and hair the shape and consistency of a walnut whip (complete with walnut).
Bugger!
(incidentally, never say that whilst bending over in the hearing of a someone from Bridgwater. They are very literal, monosyllabic folk)
Typical English pubs are split into two bars.
The lounge bar for the 'posh' people and the public bar for the great unwashed.
Sometimes the bars are completely separate and sometimes (as in this case) there is just a dividing wall with one bar running through both (handy if you feel like throwing dry roasted peanuts at the 'posh' folk).
They also tend to be very small with low ceilings and lots of horse brasses.
We were soon joined but a local rugby team inexplicably dressed in CSI costume and still sporting their mowvember facial hair.
They were also extremely drunk (in a pretty good although unintelligible way) and boogied along enthusiastically to the band.
A couple of Hooray Henry's wandered in by mistake.
God, haven't seen one of THOSE since the 80's!!
To say they were shit scared would be an understatement but the CSI rugger boys soon had their exit cut off and so they stood there sweating their nuts off in their flat caps, tweed jackets and corduroy high waisted trousers sipping on lager shandies with Baileys chasers in the corner of the bar where Art (a VERY local local) was fast asleep bolt upright on a bar stool despite the fact that the whole place was rocking because, did I mention ...
THE BAND WERE FUCKING A!!!.
They played Punk, 70's Rock, 90's Rock, Indie Rock - We had - Green Day, Iggy Pop, Jefferson Starship, White Stripe, The Stranglers, Razorlight, Madness, Eminem, Martha and the Muffins, Ian Dury, Black Sabbath, Led Zepplin ....
Then, right in the middle of it all in walked one of my favourite, favourite people that I used to work with and hadn't seen for a couple of years - Mr Andy L (Maggiemoui - he sends BIG love:).
But that's not all ....
Have you ever wondered what happened to your first real boyfriend?
Can't say I have really.
C L-B was a bit of a knob tbh.
But he was VERY good looking (I was only 16 and such things mattered).
He also competed in triathlons and was incredible fit.
He made the mistake once of suggesting we cycle to his house in the next town (9 fecking MILES away!!) Something he did twice a day for work and to keep fit.
Apparently this used to take him approximately 25 minutes.
An hour later we were just under half way there when (thank fuck) I saw the very welcoming sight of Sheppys the local cider farm (I seriously thought I was going to DIE).
Yes we did eventually make it all the way but I insisted he drove me home again!
Anyway. Andy L's friend couldn't take his eyes off me. Pretty flattering really, he was a good looking bloke.
Yep, you've guessed it. It was C L-B!
I'd never have recognised him. Last time I saw him he was 19 or 20, he was now mid 40's (I would say late 40's but that makes ME feel old;).
I guess I can't have changed as much as him though as he recognised me instantly.
It took a while for it to sink in bearing in mind the volume of the band and everything and when the penny dropped and I yelled 'OMFG - C L-B, I still have one of your socks with your name tape sewed in it' at the top of my voice it was of course at the precise moment the band came to the end of their set and a deathly hush had settled over the entire pub.
So, where has he ended up?
Effing loaded of course!
He's a senior director for a multi-national company and his 'expertise lies in the Specialist Solutions requirements for Global distribution businesses' apparently (of COURSE I checked him out on Linkedin ;) - big house in exclusive little village - travels the world on business.
He's still a knob though ....
Having insisted that he had many, many contacts who would be only to happy to offer me work and utilise my unique skills set I handed over my phone number (doh, Sarah!)
A few very effusive texts the next day along the lines of OMG - great to see you - lets do coffee yada, yada, yada ...
My suggestion that we should meet in town for said coffee was met by - 'perhaps it would be better to meet out of town as tongues might wag'
Surely two old friends meeting for coffee and a chat about business wouldn't be all THAT gossip worth??? ...
HMMMM .....
D'you know, I think it may well have brought back fond memories for him when, for the second time, many, many years after the first, I told him to 'go f*ck himself' :)
.
It's been a pretty shite week what the burns, electric shock and the puking and then earlier when I went to step over the damned dog (who ALWAYS lies in doorways) he got up when I had one leg cocked (usually his prerogative!) and we did this kind of canine rodeo for a few seconds while I tried to regain my balance and he tried to work out why the fuck I was riding him.
It ended badly of course.
I crashed into the merchants chest (that's a 15 drawer chest of drawers btw ;) right on the bloody corner. I am going to have such a HUGE bruise on my thigh tomorrow and Gus slunk away like only a Border Collie can sending me 'don't you be a ridin' me again lady' looks over his shoulder and took refuge under the coffee table.
Anyhow, that's by the by. I don't care WHAT the children snuck into my coffee, I LIKE IT (give me more!)!
So, before the burning, puking, electrocuting stuff happened I had a blog post in the making based on ..... feel there should be a drum roll here .....
A NIGHT OUT!
Nothing earth shattering. Nothing grand. Nothing that required dressing up for.
I went to see a local band that my friends husband plays bass in.
Ahh, but that's where it all becomes a little surreal.
If you haven't experienced a proper English country pub then I insist you pack up your bags and come on over here.
You can even stay with me if you don't mind my shitty kitchen, my crappy bathroom and the bastard cat.
I've got village dress code down pretty well I like to think and so off I went in my jeans, t-shirt, Uggs and suede jacket.
BUT,very importantly, I'd forgotten that this was Bishop Lydeard and Bishops Lydeard is only a stones throw from Bridgwater (and no, I haven't missed out an e in that name, that's how they spell it which gives you just a little insight).
Bridgwater used to be best known for the British Cellophane factory. Actually, it was best known for the SMELL of the British cellophane factory and all the mind changing chemicals which surely must have been wafted from the great chimneys to produce Bridgwaatter folk.
No really. They are frankly, fucking odd!
Anyway, I soon realised I'd got the dress code completely wrong.
I should have been wearing skin tight black satin trousers, a pair of 6" stilettos and an orange asymmetrical off one shoulder ruffled polyester blouse with tits down to my belt buckle and hair the shape and consistency of a walnut whip (complete with walnut).
Bugger!
(incidentally, never say that whilst bending over in the hearing of a someone from Bridgwater. They are very literal, monosyllabic folk)
Typical English pubs are split into two bars.
The lounge bar for the 'posh' people and the public bar for the great unwashed.
Sometimes the bars are completely separate and sometimes (as in this case) there is just a dividing wall with one bar running through both (handy if you feel like throwing dry roasted peanuts at the 'posh' folk).
They also tend to be very small with low ceilings and lots of horse brasses.
We were soon joined but a local rugby team inexplicably dressed in CSI costume and still sporting their mowvember facial hair.
They were also extremely drunk (in a pretty good although unintelligible way) and boogied along enthusiastically to the band.
A couple of Hooray Henry's wandered in by mistake.
God, haven't seen one of THOSE since the 80's!!
To say they were shit scared would be an understatement but the CSI rugger boys soon had their exit cut off and so they stood there sweating their nuts off in their flat caps, tweed jackets and corduroy high waisted trousers sipping on lager shandies with Baileys chasers in the corner of the bar where Art (a VERY local local) was fast asleep bolt upright on a bar stool despite the fact that the whole place was rocking because, did I mention ...
THE BAND WERE FUCKING A!!!.
They played Punk, 70's Rock, 90's Rock, Indie Rock - We had - Green Day, Iggy Pop, Jefferson Starship, White Stripe, The Stranglers, Razorlight, Madness, Eminem, Martha and the Muffins, Ian Dury, Black Sabbath, Led Zepplin ....
Then, right in the middle of it all in walked one of my favourite, favourite people that I used to work with and hadn't seen for a couple of years - Mr Andy L (Maggiemoui - he sends BIG love:).
But that's not all ....
Have you ever wondered what happened to your first real boyfriend?
Can't say I have really.
C L-B was a bit of a knob tbh.
But he was VERY good looking (I was only 16 and such things mattered).
He also competed in triathlons and was incredible fit.
He made the mistake once of suggesting we cycle to his house in the next town (9 fecking MILES away!!) Something he did twice a day for work and to keep fit.
Apparently this used to take him approximately 25 minutes.
An hour later we were just under half way there when (thank fuck) I saw the very welcoming sight of Sheppys the local cider farm (I seriously thought I was going to DIE).
Yes we did eventually make it all the way but I insisted he drove me home again!
Anyway. Andy L's friend couldn't take his eyes off me. Pretty flattering really, he was a good looking bloke.
Yep, you've guessed it. It was C L-B!
I'd never have recognised him. Last time I saw him he was 19 or 20, he was now mid 40's (I would say late 40's but that makes ME feel old;).
I guess I can't have changed as much as him though as he recognised me instantly.
It took a while for it to sink in bearing in mind the volume of the band and everything and when the penny dropped and I yelled 'OMFG - C L-B, I still have one of your socks with your name tape sewed in it' at the top of my voice it was of course at the precise moment the band came to the end of their set and a deathly hush had settled over the entire pub.
So, where has he ended up?
Effing loaded of course!
He's a senior director for a multi-national company and his 'expertise lies in the Specialist Solutions requirements for Global distribution businesses' apparently (of COURSE I checked him out on Linkedin ;) - big house in exclusive little village - travels the world on business.
He's still a knob though ....
Having insisted that he had many, many contacts who would be only to happy to offer me work and utilise my unique skills set I handed over my phone number (doh, Sarah!)
A few very effusive texts the next day along the lines of OMG - great to see you - lets do coffee yada, yada, yada ...
My suggestion that we should meet in town for said coffee was met by - 'perhaps it would be better to meet out of town as tongues might wag'
Surely two old friends meeting for coffee and a chat about business wouldn't be all THAT gossip worth??? ...
HMMMM .....
D'you know, I think it may well have brought back fond memories for him when, for the second time, many, many years after the first, I told him to 'go f*ck himself' :)
.
Thursday, 8 December 2011
I Get Knocked Down ....
BUT I GET UP AGAIN!
Well, It's been a 'fun' week or so.
I've burned both my hands (in separate instances).
Electrocuted myself AND
Spent the last couple of days hanging over the toilet bowl (thank you for sharing Master Mac ;).
BUT, I have learnt several important lessons which I feel I should share on the off chance that you might be as equally stupid as me (unlikely I know :)
Gas hobs have real flames (that's FIRE). Do not put your hand in it.
IT F*CKING HURTS!!
Ditto the plate of an iron when it switched on - always pick up by the handle on the top!
Halogen spotlights can explode (I mean REALLY bloody explode!). Do not assume that simply turning the light off is sufficient while trying to remove the bit left in the light socket.
Oh, and those bits left behind are really sharp too.
Chances are the force of god knows how many watts (or is it volts?) shooting through your hand and down your arm will cause you to cut your poor bloody burned hand on them as you are thrown half way across the room.
All of the above however can lead to a little blogging hiatus while you reflect upon your stupidity.
Also on the plus side (although maybe not in my case) it does give you plenty of time for introspection.
So F*CK you life - I may be stupid in SO many ways but you're going to have to try harder 'cause you haven't quite managed to kill me yet!
Well, It's been a 'fun' week or so.
I've burned both my hands (in separate instances).
Electrocuted myself AND
Spent the last couple of days hanging over the toilet bowl (thank you for sharing Master Mac ;).
BUT, I have learnt several important lessons which I feel I should share on the off chance that you might be as equally stupid as me (unlikely I know :)
Gas hobs have real flames (that's FIRE). Do not put your hand in it.
IT F*CKING HURTS!!
Ditto the plate of an iron when it switched on - always pick up by the handle on the top!
Halogen spotlights can explode (I mean REALLY bloody explode!). Do not assume that simply turning the light off is sufficient while trying to remove the bit left in the light socket.
Oh, and those bits left behind are really sharp too.
Chances are the force of god knows how many watts (or is it volts?) shooting through your hand and down your arm will cause you to cut your poor bloody burned hand on them as you are thrown half way across the room.
All of the above however can lead to a little blogging hiatus while you reflect upon your stupidity.
Also on the plus side (although maybe not in my case) it does give you plenty of time for introspection.
So F*CK you life - I may be stupid in SO many ways but you're going to have to try harder 'cause you haven't quite managed to kill me yet!
Thursday, 1 December 2011
Slice of Life - (a little blogette)
I have a post in my head that I want to write but I'm very tired tonight and I still have to go out and get some milk or there won't be enough for breakfast so I'll save it for tomorrow sometime.
I did want to share something with you though:
You may have noticed in my side bar a new button 'Slice of Life Blogger'.
It's what I am, but I didn't even realise it before reading Sif's post At the bottom of the Garden.
I knew my blog didn't fit into a niche and that's fine with me.
Despite following and enjoying several 'niche' blogs I'm not really a niche person myself.
I don't have anything specific I want to write about.
I don't have anything that I feel so passionate about that I could consistently blog about it.
I'm not a Mummy blogger although I'm a Mum who blogs.
I don't really want to be labelled in anyway.
Like I always say, you get whatever's in my head on any given day.
Sometimes it's fluff, sometimes it's from the darker side.
BUT, I quite like the idea of being a slice of life blogger so thank you Sif, I'll wear that badge with pride :)
Anyone that wants to follow suit feel free to grab the button and stick in on your own blog and pop over and visit Sif who talks about this far more eloquently than I ever could.
I did want to share something with you though:
You may have noticed in my side bar a new button 'Slice of Life Blogger'.
It's what I am, but I didn't even realise it before reading Sif's post At the bottom of the Garden.
I knew my blog didn't fit into a niche and that's fine with me.
Despite following and enjoying several 'niche' blogs I'm not really a niche person myself.
I don't have anything specific I want to write about.
I don't have anything that I feel so passionate about that I could consistently blog about it.
I'm not a Mummy blogger although I'm a Mum who blogs.
I don't really want to be labelled in anyway.
Like I always say, you get whatever's in my head on any given day.
Sometimes it's fluff, sometimes it's from the darker side.
BUT, I quite like the idea of being a slice of life blogger so thank you Sif, I'll wear that badge with pride :)
Anyone that wants to follow suit feel free to grab the button and stick in on your own blog and pop over and visit Sif who talks about this far more eloquently than I ever could.
Blogging in the Dark
No, literally!!
That'll teach me to have the laptop next to the bed.
To an insomniac that's like leaving an open box of malteasers in the bedside drawer of a chocoholic (damn, I seem to have one of those too;)
So, NaBloPoMo has finished. 30 days of solid blogging (well, apart from a few where blogger wouldn't let me in).
It's been great mostly. A distraction from other stuff that's been going on.
Maybe that's not such a good thing though. I've been hiding behind my blog and hoping the other stuff would go away but it hasn't.
Today the children were at home due to the teachers being on strike but they had made their own plans and so, when my friend 'surfer dude' called (he's a teacher btw) to say did I fancy a couple of hours out somewhere to enjoy the beautiful day we were having in Somerset I leapt at the chance.
You know how sometimes someone gets it exactly right?
We went to Hestercombe Gardens just outside Taunton in the Quantock hills.
I've pinched these photos from their website
Beautiful isn't it?
We walked, we talked, we had two lattes each in the cafe and we had a bit of a mooch around the gift shop.
I so NEEDED to get out. Thank you surfer dude!
Then he dropped me in town so, that amongst other things I could get the children's advent calenders (first of all pressing an umbrella on me as it has started to pour down).
Shopping done and on my way home I had a call from Miss Mac - her friends Mum (who she had spent the day with) couldn't drop her home after all, could I walk over and pick her up.
Three heavy bags of shopping and somehow I'd lost that damned umbrella. How I don't have the faintest idea and it was still peeing down.
Deep bloody joy!
Home at last, soaked and freezing, tea in the oven and Double D rang - had I remembered we had a parks meeting tonight at 6 (it was 5:45).
Well of course I hadn't bloody remembered but as I had the notes from the Council meeting I HAD to go.
By the time I got home at about 7:45 I was right back to where I had been this morning - F*ucking fed up!
I logged on to the blog and saw some comments on my WoW post saying what a romantic story it was.
Well yes, it is, but it's only part of the story and it's taken out of context. But any new commers couldn't possibly know that.
I kept it simple.
I wanted to tell it without bringing in anything else.
I wanted to keep it a pure memory.
There is a big part of me that thinks it should have remained untold.
All the good from the afternoon was all but wiped out and I was feeling very sorry for myself.
Then I read some comments from some of my favourite blogging buddies (you know who you are:)
And guess what?
I bawled my eyes out!
Well, of course I did, what did you expect? :)
BUT - when I'd stopped (Christ I looked hideous) - I decided that life only seems so hopeless because it's all a bit overwhelming right now.
If I take it bit by bit there isn't anything I can't do or be or have.
Life is only shit right now because I've allowed it to get the better of me.
Ok, strictly that's not true, but the allowing it to get the better of me is.
I'm a fighter. I'm a doer. I'm a sorter outer of shit. How could I have forgotten that?
My mojo just got a kick up the backside.
So now I'm going to bed because tomorrow (well, later today) is a brand new day and I'm going to kick some ass!
That'll teach me to have the laptop next to the bed.
To an insomniac that's like leaving an open box of malteasers in the bedside drawer of a chocoholic (damn, I seem to have one of those too;)
So, NaBloPoMo has finished. 30 days of solid blogging (well, apart from a few where blogger wouldn't let me in).
It's been great mostly. A distraction from other stuff that's been going on.
Maybe that's not such a good thing though. I've been hiding behind my blog and hoping the other stuff would go away but it hasn't.
Today the children were at home due to the teachers being on strike but they had made their own plans and so, when my friend 'surfer dude' called (he's a teacher btw) to say did I fancy a couple of hours out somewhere to enjoy the beautiful day we were having in Somerset I leapt at the chance.
You know how sometimes someone gets it exactly right?
We went to Hestercombe Gardens just outside Taunton in the Quantock hills.
I've pinched these photos from their website
Beautiful isn't it?
We walked, we talked, we had two lattes each in the cafe and we had a bit of a mooch around the gift shop.
I so NEEDED to get out. Thank you surfer dude!
Then he dropped me in town so, that amongst other things I could get the children's advent calenders (first of all pressing an umbrella on me as it has started to pour down).
Shopping done and on my way home I had a call from Miss Mac - her friends Mum (who she had spent the day with) couldn't drop her home after all, could I walk over and pick her up.
Three heavy bags of shopping and somehow I'd lost that damned umbrella. How I don't have the faintest idea and it was still peeing down.
Deep bloody joy!
Home at last, soaked and freezing, tea in the oven and Double D rang - had I remembered we had a parks meeting tonight at 6 (it was 5:45).
Well of course I hadn't bloody remembered but as I had the notes from the Council meeting I HAD to go.
By the time I got home at about 7:45 I was right back to where I had been this morning - F*ucking fed up!
I logged on to the blog and saw some comments on my WoW post saying what a romantic story it was.
Well yes, it is, but it's only part of the story and it's taken out of context. But any new commers couldn't possibly know that.
I kept it simple.
I wanted to tell it without bringing in anything else.
I wanted to keep it a pure memory.
There is a big part of me that thinks it should have remained untold.
All the good from the afternoon was all but wiped out and I was feeling very sorry for myself.
Then I read some comments from some of my favourite blogging buddies (you know who you are:)
And guess what?
I bawled my eyes out!
Well, of course I did, what did you expect? :)
BUT - when I'd stopped (Christ I looked hideous) - I decided that life only seems so hopeless because it's all a bit overwhelming right now.
If I take it bit by bit there isn't anything I can't do or be or have.
Life is only shit right now because I've allowed it to get the better of me.
Ok, strictly that's not true, but the allowing it to get the better of me is.
I'm a fighter. I'm a doer. I'm a sorter outer of shit. How could I have forgotten that?
My mojo just got a kick up the backside.
So now I'm going to bed because tomorrow (well, later today) is a brand new day and I'm going to kick some ass!
Tuesday, 29 November 2011
WoW - The Bangle
Write On Wednesdays Exercise 26 - Look at the photo at the top of this post. What does it inspire in you? Set your timer for 5 minutes. With the photo in mind, write the first words that come into your head until the buzzer rings. If you aren't a visual person, you could try lighting a few candles and writing by candlelight. Different sensory experiences can be useful for inspiring creative writing so please play around to make the prompt suit your writing needs. If you do try writing by candlelight, let us know. I'd love to know how it works for you!
I don't know if Rock Chicks story will ever be put together in any meaningful way.
I guess that may be a reflection on real life.
What I do know is that to really begin to understand her you have to first know the story of the bangle which I haven't told up until now.
Part of the reason for that being that it's pivitol to the story and is the thread running throughout it.
Getting it right is very important to me.
I really don't want to get it wrong.
I hope I haven't.
*******************
The Bangle
The Bangle
She woke up smiling.
It was the way she woke up every morning.
As though a thousand candles lit her soul and illuminated her life.
Today was her Birthday.
But that was of secondary importance. Tonight she would see him and so the day was just a countdown of hours until that time.
For a moment she reflected on the contrast between this year and last.
The complete and utter despair. The terror and the loneliness.
The feeling of failure and emptiness.
All of that was gone. Replaced by a feeling of rightness.
"Happy Birthday beautiful".
He walked towards her holding a small bag
This was home.
This was where she belonged.
She felt she had finally found her forever.
"Tell me if you don't like, I wont mind, I can change it" he said slightly nervously.
Smiling she shook her head.
Whatever the bag contained had been chosen with thought and care.
Of COURSE she was going to like it.
Taking the box from the bag she opened it revealing the bangle
He held his breath as she caught hers.
There was no need for pretence.
The delicate silver wire wound it's way around the beautiful turquoise stone.
She slid it onto her wrist.
Glanced up at him she saw a frown still furrowed his brow.
"I love it" she said throwing her arms around him burying her face in his neck.
"I love you" he whispered through her hair holding her as though he would never let her go.
Crap and Councillors
Only a couple more days of NaBloPoMo to go.
Wow, it's been a struggle on a couple of days but I've rewound a couple of posts (and lightning didn't strike me :) and there have been a couple of Silent Sunday posts and of course today's photo challenge to pad it all out.
A few people have said 'never again' but I hear them saying it over at WriNoBlo .... too. God, sorry, never was any good with acronyms.
You KNOW what I mean.
Today I really wanted to write my WoW post.
I usually have a post part written or in my head way before the prompt comes out and today was no exception.
I had a continuation from last weeks story and I also thought about writing the story behind the bangle.
I DID write it in fact, it's just sitting in draft.
Why didn't I go with that one?
Well, candles don't feature in the story but you know me, I have ways of MAKING that prompt work for the story I want to write ;)
I didn't for two reasons.
One, is that it's not just my story and maybe it's something that's just too personal and I shouldn't share.
I really dont know.
Secondly, does it add to the story that you DON'T know?
Would it break the spell if you already have already built your own story behind it?
Am I in danger of believing my own hype. Possibly you don't actually give a toss :)
The prompt today was a beautiful photo of floating candles in Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris and, if I don't go with Rock Chick this week, then I WILL find another story to write that will hopefully do it justice.
So, what shall I talk about?
Well (of COURSE I have something :)
This evening I attended a council meeting.
For those of you who don't know, I belong to an action group for our local park.
We do a little fund raising. A little bulb planting. A little bench painting ect.
Little things that make our park a nicer place and ensure that the local council have a vested interest in keeping it looking good ie WE KNOW WHERE THEY LIVE!!!
God councilors are (for the most part) boring old farts!
I went along with Den. I shall call him Den, not necessarily because that's his name but because that's what I choose to call him.
In fact, I shall call him Dirty Den or DD or no ... I shall call him Double D!!!
Ok, Double D (which is NOT his real name) and I rocked up at about 6:20 for a 6:30 start.
He is a truly crap driver btw with a truly crap car.
I got in the bastard thing, went to shut the door and the whole door panel damn near came off in my hand (my bloody finger nail DID come off!!).
He also drove half the way home again so busy slagging off the Christmas lights in town (they aren't THAT bad) that he totally forgot to turn his lights on.
Anyway, crap driver with a shitty car he may be but I'm really rather fond of him and I love that fact that he's so far out of place in a council meeting it's like being there with an alien from another planet which cheers me up no end.
Like I said, they are a bunch of boring farts.
Double D kept asking what I was scribbling on my note pad before the meeting had even started.
Blog fodder I hissed (he has NO idea what a blog is bless him) have you seen his braces?
Pull those babies any higher and he'll be wearing his testicles as earings!
Better still twang them and see if his nipples fly off said Double D.
I snorted VERY loudly at that point not realising that as I was leaning forward Id depressed the talk button on my microphone.
I sooo wanted to take pictures of them all for you.
That's another thing!!
The damn room was set up like the House of Commons. All state of the art whatnots, no WONDER the bloody roads are full of pot hole, I SEE where my council tax goes!!
Anyway, I digress ...
I so want to just photocopy and scan my scribbles for you complete with doodles but they are so bad even I struggle to decipher them.
It started off with a friendly debate about when they would be getting their year book (the councilors bible that tells them all the meeting dates, who's who, who THEY are ect).
It transpired that a couple had already got them. Much 'poor show' and 'ye gads' followed as those who had flourished them and those who didn't looked on in envy.
That was until it transpire that this year THERE WAS NO RIBBON!!
What effing ribbon?
The one to place in between the pages so you don't lose your place of course.
They seemed to lose some of their kudos after that and much grumbling and threats of 'having words' were uttered.
Apparently it was a money saving initiative.
OF COURSE, they have to pay for f*cking state of the art conference rooms SOMEHOW don't they?
Then there was the discussion about the clocks in the room.
One told the correct time, the other appeared to be stuck at 5 to 5.
'Wasn't that the time Blue Peter used to start?' Said the mayor (I shit you not, it was the mayor!)
No, said Cllr ESP (and yes, those ARE his real initials;) That was Cracker Jack.
The sole magistrate at the back (who had been peacefully dozing) suddenly piped up, 'we have to pay for our own effing year books you know, you should think yourselves lucky!.
She then went promptly back to sleep for the rest of the meeting.
The Chair, cllr f*ckwit (yeees, that's HIS real name too :) apologised for sounding like he came from Wolverhampton but he had a slight cold (difficult one that if you dont know what a Wolverhampton accent sounds like)
Ok, this might help ...
They then discussed the merits of having a calender printed next year.
Ooh, we were going to do that piped up the deputy mayor but the cost was astronomical so we are having a series of tea towels printed instead (I shit you not!!;).
Briefly the possibility of having the cllrs do it WI style, ie naked was considered but it was generally agreed that no one really wanted to see them at all ... ever ... even fully clothed let alone in the buff .
This was all by the way BEFORE the meeting proper started.
We were there to discuss the Diamond Jubilee celebrations and to ensure that events didn't encroach or overlap.
Woe betide anyone trying to steal a rise over the Eggbuckland egg throwing competition or the Welland wheelbarrow race with (chortle) REAL wheelbarrows!!
Personally I thought the Wellington wife wanging competition and the Thurloxton toast tossing events sounded like MUCH more fun. (I may or may not be lying about any or ALL of this btw;)
They then started banging on about lighting the beacons which was all a little boring tbh.
Should they just be official ones or could we all build bloody great bonfires in our back gardens?
Historically they would have been lit at the top of churches but sadly health and safety and insurance ect pretty much rules that out these days.
I did have a little chuckle when concerns were expressed that this bureaucracy, gone mad might, 'weaken the beacon' :)
There was then a long diatribe from a bloke I could have sworn wasn't English but according to Double D it was just that he had so many plums in his mouth he could barely speak.
No idea what he was banging on about.
Midway through it all I had a sudden craving for Coronation Chicken.
WTF was that all about??
I haven't had Coronation Chicken since the 1987 Boxing Day turkey curry buffet at Aunty Alices (and even then it was turkey, not chicken) .
Anyway, I think I got down most of the salient points.
Perhaps I should just email this post to our secretary?
That'll teach her to go herself next time!
Wow, it's been a struggle on a couple of days but I've rewound a couple of posts (and lightning didn't strike me :) and there have been a couple of Silent Sunday posts and of course today's photo challenge to pad it all out.
A few people have said 'never again' but I hear them saying it over at WriNoBlo .... too. God, sorry, never was any good with acronyms.
You KNOW what I mean.
Today I really wanted to write my WoW post.
I usually have a post part written or in my head way before the prompt comes out and today was no exception.
I had a continuation from last weeks story and I also thought about writing the story behind the bangle.
I DID write it in fact, it's just sitting in draft.
Why didn't I go with that one?
Well, candles don't feature in the story but you know me, I have ways of MAKING that prompt work for the story I want to write ;)
I didn't for two reasons.
One, is that it's not just my story and maybe it's something that's just too personal and I shouldn't share.
I really dont know.
Secondly, does it add to the story that you DON'T know?
Would it break the spell if you already have already built your own story behind it?
Am I in danger of believing my own hype. Possibly you don't actually give a toss :)
The prompt today was a beautiful photo of floating candles in Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris and, if I don't go with Rock Chick this week, then I WILL find another story to write that will hopefully do it justice.
So, what shall I talk about?
Well (of COURSE I have something :)
This evening I attended a council meeting.
For those of you who don't know, I belong to an action group for our local park.
We do a little fund raising. A little bulb planting. A little bench painting ect.
Little things that make our park a nicer place and ensure that the local council have a vested interest in keeping it looking good ie WE KNOW WHERE THEY LIVE!!!
God councilors are (for the most part) boring old farts!
I went along with Den. I shall call him Den, not necessarily because that's his name but because that's what I choose to call him.
In fact, I shall call him Dirty Den or DD or no ... I shall call him Double D!!!
Ok, Double D (which is NOT his real name) and I rocked up at about 6:20 for a 6:30 start.
He is a truly crap driver btw with a truly crap car.
I got in the bastard thing, went to shut the door and the whole door panel damn near came off in my hand (my bloody finger nail DID come off!!).
He also drove half the way home again so busy slagging off the Christmas lights in town (they aren't THAT bad) that he totally forgot to turn his lights on.
Anyway, crap driver with a shitty car he may be but I'm really rather fond of him and I love that fact that he's so far out of place in a council meeting it's like being there with an alien from another planet which cheers me up no end.
Like I said, they are a bunch of boring farts.
Double D kept asking what I was scribbling on my note pad before the meeting had even started.
Blog fodder I hissed (he has NO idea what a blog is bless him) have you seen his braces?
Pull those babies any higher and he'll be wearing his testicles as earings!
Better still twang them and see if his nipples fly off said Double D.
I snorted VERY loudly at that point not realising that as I was leaning forward Id depressed the talk button on my microphone.
I sooo wanted to take pictures of them all for you.
That's another thing!!
The damn room was set up like the House of Commons. All state of the art whatnots, no WONDER the bloody roads are full of pot hole, I SEE where my council tax goes!!
Anyway, I digress ...
I so want to just photocopy and scan my scribbles for you complete with doodles but they are so bad even I struggle to decipher them.
It started off with a friendly debate about when they would be getting their year book (the councilors bible that tells them all the meeting dates, who's who, who THEY are ect).
It transpired that a couple had already got them. Much 'poor show' and 'ye gads' followed as those who had flourished them and those who didn't looked on in envy.
That was until it transpire that this year THERE WAS NO RIBBON!!
What effing ribbon?
The one to place in between the pages so you don't lose your place of course.
They seemed to lose some of their kudos after that and much grumbling and threats of 'having words' were uttered.
Apparently it was a money saving initiative.
OF COURSE, they have to pay for f*cking state of the art conference rooms SOMEHOW don't they?
Then there was the discussion about the clocks in the room.
One told the correct time, the other appeared to be stuck at 5 to 5.
'Wasn't that the time Blue Peter used to start?' Said the mayor (I shit you not, it was the mayor!)
No, said Cllr ESP (and yes, those ARE his real initials;) That was Cracker Jack.
The sole magistrate at the back (who had been peacefully dozing) suddenly piped up, 'we have to pay for our own effing year books you know, you should think yourselves lucky!.
She then went promptly back to sleep for the rest of the meeting.
The Chair, cllr f*ckwit (yeees, that's HIS real name too :) apologised for sounding like he came from Wolverhampton but he had a slight cold (difficult one that if you dont know what a Wolverhampton accent sounds like)
Ok, this might help ...
They then discussed the merits of having a calender printed next year.
Ooh, we were going to do that piped up the deputy mayor but the cost was astronomical so we are having a series of tea towels printed instead (I shit you not!!;).
Briefly the possibility of having the cllrs do it WI style, ie naked was considered but it was generally agreed that no one really wanted to see them at all ... ever ... even fully clothed let alone in the buff .
This was all by the way BEFORE the meeting proper started.
We were there to discuss the Diamond Jubilee celebrations and to ensure that events didn't encroach or overlap.
Woe betide anyone trying to steal a rise over the Eggbuckland egg throwing competition or the Welland wheelbarrow race with (chortle) REAL wheelbarrows!!
Personally I thought the Wellington wife wanging competition and the Thurloxton toast tossing events sounded like MUCH more fun. (I may or may not be lying about any or ALL of this btw;)
They then started banging on about lighting the beacons which was all a little boring tbh.
Should they just be official ones or could we all build bloody great bonfires in our back gardens?
Historically they would have been lit at the top of churches but sadly health and safety and insurance ect pretty much rules that out these days.
I did have a little chuckle when concerns were expressed that this bureaucracy, gone mad might, 'weaken the beacon' :)
There was then a long diatribe from a bloke I could have sworn wasn't English but according to Double D it was just that he had so many plums in his mouth he could barely speak.
No idea what he was banging on about.
Midway through it all I had a sudden craving for Coronation Chicken.
WTF was that all about??
I haven't had Coronation Chicken since the 1987 Boxing Day turkey curry buffet at Aunty Alices (and even then it was turkey, not chicken) .
Anyway, I think I got down most of the salient points.
Perhaps I should just email this post to our secretary?
That'll teach her to go herself next time!
Monday, 28 November 2011
Photo Challenge Monday
My shout out today is for Maxabella who has written a post pondering something that's probably crossed all our minds from time to time.
I kid myself that it might have been partly inspired by a post I wrote as she left me a lovely comment. But the truth is, it doesn't matter what inspired it.
It's something that all of us can probably identify with.
Sunday, 27 November 2011
Clipboards and Cat Shit
Ok, after yesterdays soul bearing I'm in dire need of a little light relief :)
Posting the Saturday is Caption Day photo as a second post (as if one a day for a month isn't enough!) helped a little and thank you to those who came up with some great captions :)
But I need more.
I am also in shock having realised that at the tender age of 13 Master Mac is suddenly taller than me.
I'm 6ft FFS!!!
I am seriously scared where this may end. I seem to have produced monster children!
Big D is 6ft 3.
Master Mac already takes a size 11 shoe (Isn't that a 50 or something in continental sizing??)
Miss Mac 'borrows' MY clothes!
Anyway ...
I don't seem to have quite regained my funny yet so I thought (and I hope you don't mind) that I would rewind an old post from happier times that still makes me smile when I think about it.
Having said that. Today is a beautiful day in Somerset - the sky is blue - the air is cold and crisp and Gus and I took an early morning walk by the river.
My washing is blowing on the line and I've also spent the last half hour cleaning my hob with a toothbrush.
 |
I know, self proclaimed domestic slut that I am I have to confess that there really is nothing I like better than getting in all those nooks and crannies from time to time ;) |
********************************
And so - onto Clipboards and Cat Shit :)
And so - onto Clipboards and Cat Shit :)
A couple of days ago I received a letter that surprised and worried me a little. It was from Master Macs School and it said that they were concerned about his attendance record and would like to see me.
I rang the school immediately to see if there had been a mistake. No, they assured me, no mistake. It seems that with his recent accident and resulting appointments at the hospital Master Mac had hit a trigger point.
The visit was arranged for Friday morning at 10am.
After waving the children off to school I looked around.
It’s been a while since anyone other than friends and family had been to the house and having someone who is basically there to question your capabilities as a parent sure makes you look at things with fresh eyes.
A quick wiz round with the hoover, wash the breakfast dishes, clean out the litter tray, shower and dress.
That WAS the plan!
Out came Henry, a flick of the switch and ….. WHOOOMPH!!
A great cloud of dust and dog hair, tissue and fluff erupted like a mini volcano covering me and half the room as effectively as Vesuvius buried Pompeii.
FUUUUUCK!!!
Complete panic, the damn woman was due in 45 minutes, my house was filthy, I had 5 cats running around, a dog shedding yet more hair and a full litter tray.
I was also braless in a baggy tee-shirt and cropped legging. I didn’t have a clue what to tackle first.
A quick slug of Merlot from the open bottle on the kitchen counter (yes, it was only 9:00am but needs must!) and I assessed the damage.
Ok, litter tray first. As ever, a queue of full bladdered kitties waited for the moment the clean litter hit the tray before parking their furry bottoms in the gravel to fill it up again.
Out to the wheelie bin at the front of the house only to find that it was, as always FULL!!
The bin wasn’t due to be emptied until Monday and only a foolish person leave a bag of used cat litter around for all the other cats in the neighbourhood to rip apart and spread the content (if you are lucky they might even leave an offering of their own!) So, back in, wellies on and into the bin I hopped. Jumping up and down trying to compact a weeks worth of cat shit and other household rubbish
HELLO, YOOHOO, Mrs Mac??? I swung around to see a woman holding a clipboard tottering towards me in the most extraordinary pair of shoes. They were those wedge ones with a hole cut out for some bizarre reason, it looked like she was walking in ice skates. But the main things was,
THE BLOODY WOMAN WAS MORE THAN HALF AN HOUR EARLY!!
Ok, I thought, if you can wear ice-skates, I can stand in wheelie bins carrying shit and coved in filth.I decided to brazen it out. Calmly I climbed out of the bin on to the wall and hopped down onto the pavement.
‘That would be me’ I said with a smile holding out my hand to shake hers. She recoiled slightly and waved her clipboard in an attempt to suggest that it wasn’t that she was reluctant to clasp my hand but rather that her hands were full.
Coffee? Tea? Slug of wine? I queried with a slight laugh as though I was joking while both of us hungrily eyed the half full bottle.
Perhaps we could just sit down and have a chat she suggested whilst her gaze swept my house and myself with complete horror.
I smiled again, again she recoiled, what was the matter with the woman? I got that she didn’t want to touch me and ok, I guess I could empathise with that, but I was only trying to be friendly for gods sake.
‘You have ……. Errm ……..’ she said gesturing to my face. What? WHAT???
I dashed into the bathroom to look in the mirror. Oh great! I’d obviously inhaled a quantity of dust and dirt and my nostrils were ringed with black, I could have cried except that would only have left streaks down my filthy cheeks. I cleaned up as best I could and feeling very subdued went and sat down.
Things couldn’t and should have really got any worse and in truth, I’m not sure they did but by that time my judgement was shot along with the chance of winning any parenting awards!
Tilly, mum to three kittens has suffered a little from what I call ‘lactating mummy tummy’, it’s not funny and it’s not nice. It IS noisy and it does stink however so when I saw her purposefully making her way to the tray I knew all was lost. After much digging about she proceeded to excavate her bowels with a sound like a toddler let loose with a trumpet and sure enough, like a mist creeping over the sea the stench pervaded the room.
The poor lady decided enough was enough and brought our meeting to an end with assurances from me that I would never again let Master Mac be shot in the eye and thus miss valuable schooling.
If only one of us had realised that Florence, the smallest of the kittens who had taken great interest in this ladies footwear had somehow manages to wedge herself through the hole in her damn shoe.
She stood to leave gathering her clipboard and her wits and took a step towards the door. The weight of Florence caused the shoe to shoot off her foot across the room. Florence yowled, the lady let out a strangled scream and I dissolved into hysterical laughter.
There probably is a moral to this story but to be honest, I haven’t got a clue what it would be and frankly, after I’d finished the bottle of wine I didn’t really care.
(nb Florence was completely unharmed J)
Saturday, 26 November 2011
Saturday is Caption Day!
Joining up with Mamasaurus for Saturday is Caption Day
 |
| carefully placing his latest offering on top of the toilet cistern Sarah reflected, that , yet again, he had completely misinterpreted her request to 'give me wood' |
SHOUT OUT ALERT!!! You need to read this post I've only got half way through and had to stop because I was afraid Id wet myself laughing .
Lesley - you are a NUTTER and I love you for it! xx
BDD
Body Dysmorphic Disorder.
It's very rare for me to publish a post that isn't designed to amuse in someway.
Yesterday I talked a little about how I was feeling right now.
It's not great.
I had some lovely supportive comments (thank you all :) and rather than just crawl away and hide which was my first instinct I decided to face things. To work through them and to carry on blogging.
As I said yesterday. There is a temptation to spill my guts on here but the situation I'm in at the moment isn't an appropriate one to share.
It's ugly. It involves people that I want to protect so exposing the guilty is not an option however tempting it may be.
It has brought back a post that's been at the back of my mind for quite a while. Something I've almost shared on more than one occasion.
But it's so far removed from the person I'd like to be perceived as.
So far from the person that I really AM that I've never written it before.
The truth is, it is a part of me too. It's not what defines me. It hasn't always been part of me and I'd like to think it wont always be.
But for now it is.
You may or may not have heard of Body Dysmorphic Disorder.
It's not particularly widely known. It's often misdiagnosed or it's kept a secret.
It has many different forms and each person who lives with it experiences it in different ways.
It often becomes apparent in early teens or young adulthood. It can be triggered by abuse, neglect or life experiences.
It can strike at any age. It can happen for no apparent reason.
As I said, It can have many different forms but I am only going to talk about one of them here. I don't pretend to be an authority on it and it wouldn't be appropriate for me to discuss any of the other forms it takes.
BDD can manifest itself as a somatoform disorder.
A mental disorder characterized by physical symptoms that suggest physical illness or injury - symptoms that cannot be fully explained by a general medical condition.
This is in no way connected with or should be confused with Munchausen Syndrome wherein those affected feign illness to draw attention to themselves. This is very real.
So, why am I talking about it?
Well, in the summer of 2009 my marriage ran into difficulties. It was a hugely stressful time during which I became physically ill.
I suffered a series of kidney infections which were very debilitating.
I also suffered from arrhythmia (an uneven heartbeat). At times my heart rate would reach 124 beats per minute and stay like that for several hours, it was exhausting.
My blood pressure was very erratic. Through 3 pregnancies it had always been stable so this was a cause for concern.
The main concern being that my blood pressure dropped dramatically when I went from sitting to standing. (the opposite should happen in a healthy person) although it was raised the rest of the time.
I also lost a considerable amount of weight in a very short space of time approx 35lb in just over 2 months.
Over a period of months I underwent many, many tests all proving inconclusive.
I was tested for Addisons disease which can be notoriously hard to diagnose and is still something that can't be completely ruled out.
There was a fear at one point that I had a tumour on my kidney.
I was put onto beta blockers to regulate my heartbeat.
My heart was regularly monitored as the increase in my blood pressure had cause a heart mummer (only previously apparent during pregnancy) to reappear (this has since disappeared again).
I spent several months in a constant state of fear despite having a fantastic GP who did all he could to reassure me and hospital consultants who spent many hours doing everything they possibly could to find out what was going on with my body.
During this time the situation at home deteriorated and I struggled to deal with it all.
Ok, maybe I wasn't dealing with it!
My doctor was keen that I should try anti depressants but I didn't feel they were for me. I think that was my ignorance showing. I didn't want to be labeled as depressed. That wasn't what I was about. I felt my problems were medical and if we could solve them then I would be able to deal with the stress.
I still resist them although having spoken to many people I sometimes wonder if my own stupid built in prejudices are preventing me from the benefits I have seen other gain.
I can happily discuss the benefits and encourage other to give them a go.
I KNOW they help. I've seen it with my own eyes.
My doctor then suggested CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy) as an alternative. Again, I wasn't keen. My problems were circumstantial, they weren't a result of an inherent or underlying mental health issue.
I was unhappy because my life was shit basically.
However. I had to admit that I had a problem when I had an increasing reluctance to have contact with my own body.
The circumstances of my marriage breakup were not nice. I'd been left feeling physically contaminated. Unclean. I had a feeling of self disgust and self loathing.
None of it was my fault but it didn't make any difference.
CBT turned out to be the breakthrough I needed.
After several sessions I felt able to talk about this feeling which was the first time BDD was mentioned and the connection between the physical and emotional symptoms was made.
I'd like to say that having had this recognised (I hesitate to say diagnosed as it really isn't that simple) that there was an easy answer to this but that wouldn't be true.
For about year I really struggled with this.
Although apart from a tendency to drop weight very quickly my physical symptoms are all but gone now there has been a lingering psychological affect.
During that time I did form a relationship but it was pretty much doomed due to the BDD. The physical withdrawal led to a kind of emotional detachment (I'm not explaining that very well).
Anyway, I must have been a complete nightmare.
I feel pretty bad about that. I think I knew right from the start how it would end.
Funnily enough, earlier this year, I did go on to have a relationship where BDD just didn't signify at all.
I have no idea why but it was never an issue.
It was like it had never existed and so I never mentioned it.
I guess I thought it was somehow miraculously cured and anyway it wasn't something I wanted to talk about. It was all way too weird for me.
I just wanted to be 'normal' again.
The relationship didn't last for other reasons which I was pretty gutted about. But shit happens, I'm dealing with it.
It did however gave me the false hope that BDD had been banished completely from my life.
It hasn't.
Given this 'diagnosis' some people may find it hard to understand how I could have published photos of myself as part of the I heart my body campaign.
To be honest, it wasn't easy. But then I'm not sure that makes me any different to anyone else.
For me it was important part of trying to try to regain the confidence I once had in my body and I found it very empowering to talk about the things I loved about it.
I also found that I could look at the photos quite dispassionately and see that it was an attractive body. I can SEE it is, I just sometimes struggle to feel it.
BDD doesn't have the hold over me that it did at one time but it hasn't completely gone.
It has stopped me from fully entering into a relationship since then.
I date men. I LIKE men. I'm attracted to them.
I flirt, I have fun I can even be physically affectionate but only when I feel safe, only when there is no chance of it progressing any further. Any suggestion of anything more has me running for the hills.
I don't want to hurt anyone else and I'm scared I will. I'm actually scared I already have ...
Yet at the same time I still feel the emotional detachment.
That doesn't sit well with me.
I CARE about people and so, for now, I've decided that there are other things in my life that should take priority.
I don't know what the answer is. Maybe one day I'll find someone else where it isn't an issue.
Maybe I won't and I'll have to accept that it's something I live with from now on.
It doesn't affect my day to day life.
But it's not the way I want to be forever.
I'd like a happy ever after someday.
I miss intimacy. I miss sharing. I miss being held.
It's very rare for me to publish a post that isn't designed to amuse in someway.
Yesterday I talked a little about how I was feeling right now.
It's not great.
I had some lovely supportive comments (thank you all :) and rather than just crawl away and hide which was my first instinct I decided to face things. To work through them and to carry on blogging.
As I said yesterday. There is a temptation to spill my guts on here but the situation I'm in at the moment isn't an appropriate one to share.
It's ugly. It involves people that I want to protect so exposing the guilty is not an option however tempting it may be.
It has brought back a post that's been at the back of my mind for quite a while. Something I've almost shared on more than one occasion.
But it's so far removed from the person I'd like to be perceived as.
So far from the person that I really AM that I've never written it before.
The truth is, it is a part of me too. It's not what defines me. It hasn't always been part of me and I'd like to think it wont always be.
But for now it is.
You may or may not have heard of Body Dysmorphic Disorder.
It's not particularly widely known. It's often misdiagnosed or it's kept a secret.
It has many different forms and each person who lives with it experiences it in different ways.
It often becomes apparent in early teens or young adulthood. It can be triggered by abuse, neglect or life experiences.
It can strike at any age. It can happen for no apparent reason.
As I said, It can have many different forms but I am only going to talk about one of them here. I don't pretend to be an authority on it and it wouldn't be appropriate for me to discuss any of the other forms it takes.
BDD can manifest itself as a somatoform disorder.
A mental disorder characterized by physical symptoms that suggest physical illness or injury - symptoms that cannot be fully explained by a general medical condition.
This is in no way connected with or should be confused with Munchausen Syndrome wherein those affected feign illness to draw attention to themselves. This is very real.
So, why am I talking about it?
Well, in the summer of 2009 my marriage ran into difficulties. It was a hugely stressful time during which I became physically ill.
I suffered a series of kidney infections which were very debilitating.
I also suffered from arrhythmia (an uneven heartbeat). At times my heart rate would reach 124 beats per minute and stay like that for several hours, it was exhausting.
My blood pressure was very erratic. Through 3 pregnancies it had always been stable so this was a cause for concern.
The main concern being that my blood pressure dropped dramatically when I went from sitting to standing. (the opposite should happen in a healthy person) although it was raised the rest of the time.
I also lost a considerable amount of weight in a very short space of time approx 35lb in just over 2 months.
Over a period of months I underwent many, many tests all proving inconclusive.
I was tested for Addisons disease which can be notoriously hard to diagnose and is still something that can't be completely ruled out.
There was a fear at one point that I had a tumour on my kidney.
I was put onto beta blockers to regulate my heartbeat.
My heart was regularly monitored as the increase in my blood pressure had cause a heart mummer (only previously apparent during pregnancy) to reappear (this has since disappeared again).
I spent several months in a constant state of fear despite having a fantastic GP who did all he could to reassure me and hospital consultants who spent many hours doing everything they possibly could to find out what was going on with my body.
During this time the situation at home deteriorated and I struggled to deal with it all.
Ok, maybe I wasn't dealing with it!
My doctor was keen that I should try anti depressants but I didn't feel they were for me. I think that was my ignorance showing. I didn't want to be labeled as depressed. That wasn't what I was about. I felt my problems were medical and if we could solve them then I would be able to deal with the stress.
I still resist them although having spoken to many people I sometimes wonder if my own stupid built in prejudices are preventing me from the benefits I have seen other gain.
I can happily discuss the benefits and encourage other to give them a go.
I KNOW they help. I've seen it with my own eyes.
My doctor then suggested CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy) as an alternative. Again, I wasn't keen. My problems were circumstantial, they weren't a result of an inherent or underlying mental health issue.
I was unhappy because my life was shit basically.
However. I had to admit that I had a problem when I had an increasing reluctance to have contact with my own body.
The circumstances of my marriage breakup were not nice. I'd been left feeling physically contaminated. Unclean. I had a feeling of self disgust and self loathing.
None of it was my fault but it didn't make any difference.
CBT turned out to be the breakthrough I needed.
After several sessions I felt able to talk about this feeling which was the first time BDD was mentioned and the connection between the physical and emotional symptoms was made.
I'd like to say that having had this recognised (I hesitate to say diagnosed as it really isn't that simple) that there was an easy answer to this but that wouldn't be true.
For about year I really struggled with this.
Although apart from a tendency to drop weight very quickly my physical symptoms are all but gone now there has been a lingering psychological affect.
During that time I did form a relationship but it was pretty much doomed due to the BDD. The physical withdrawal led to a kind of emotional detachment (I'm not explaining that very well).
Anyway, I must have been a complete nightmare.
I feel pretty bad about that. I think I knew right from the start how it would end.
Funnily enough, earlier this year, I did go on to have a relationship where BDD just didn't signify at all.
I have no idea why but it was never an issue.
It was like it had never existed and so I never mentioned it.
I guess I thought it was somehow miraculously cured and anyway it wasn't something I wanted to talk about. It was all way too weird for me.
I just wanted to be 'normal' again.
The relationship didn't last for other reasons which I was pretty gutted about. But shit happens, I'm dealing with it.
It did however gave me the false hope that BDD had been banished completely from my life.
It hasn't.
Given this 'diagnosis' some people may find it hard to understand how I could have published photos of myself as part of the I heart my body campaign.
To be honest, it wasn't easy. But then I'm not sure that makes me any different to anyone else.
For me it was important part of trying to try to regain the confidence I once had in my body and I found it very empowering to talk about the things I loved about it.
I also found that I could look at the photos quite dispassionately and see that it was an attractive body. I can SEE it is, I just sometimes struggle to feel it.
BDD doesn't have the hold over me that it did at one time but it hasn't completely gone.
It has stopped me from fully entering into a relationship since then.
I date men. I LIKE men. I'm attracted to them.
I flirt, I have fun I can even be physically affectionate but only when I feel safe, only when there is no chance of it progressing any further. Any suggestion of anything more has me running for the hills.
I don't want to hurt anyone else and I'm scared I will. I'm actually scared I already have ...
Yet at the same time I still feel the emotional detachment.
That doesn't sit well with me.
I CARE about people and so, for now, I've decided that there are other things in my life that should take priority.
I don't know what the answer is. Maybe one day I'll find someone else where it isn't an issue.
Maybe I won't and I'll have to accept that it's something I live with from now on.
It doesn't affect my day to day life.
But it's not the way I want to be forever.
I'd like a happy ever after someday.
I miss intimacy. I miss sharing. I miss being held.
Thursday, 24 November 2011
Seek And Ye Shall Find
Or not as the case may be.
I'm pretty sure that the person who stumbled onto my blog by searching for 'long and hairy' wasn't looking for my tale of Hairy Humiliation.
I'm equally sure that the person searching for' hog-tied blog' (I know, it serves me right that I get that so much;) was bitterly disappointed to read about my angst.
I spend a disproportionate amount of my time looking for things.
I don't just mean things that I can't find because I'm not well enough organised (although the mantra in my house is 'underneath everything there is something').
I mean answers for everything in life.
A few months ago I spent quite a lot of time looking for my mojo.
Did I find it?
Hmm, well, kind of.
It's a bit battered and bruised and has an annoying tendency to disappear again from time to time. But mostly it's sticking around.
I'm pretty sure that the person who stumbled onto my blog by searching for 'long and hairy' wasn't looking for my tale of Hairy Humiliation.
I'm equally sure that the person searching for' hog-tied blog' (I know, it serves me right that I get that so much;) was bitterly disappointed to read about my angst.
I spend a disproportionate amount of my time looking for things.
I don't just mean things that I can't find because I'm not well enough organised (although the mantra in my house is 'underneath everything there is something').
I mean answers for everything in life.
A few months ago I spent quite a lot of time looking for my mojo.
Did I find it?
Hmm, well, kind of.
It's a bit battered and bruised and has an annoying tendency to disappear again from time to time. But mostly it's sticking around.
******************************** I had this post half written. There was a lot more guff about Rugby socks that were different lengths. Zorbos. Pauls arse and Gus's nose. My BMI and shites in whining armour. Excuse the font btw, not a CLUE what the f*cks going on with that or the text alignment and I just can't be arsed to try and work it out. That damned recalcitrant mojo I was talking about? Well, it's taken a bit of a bashing in the last couple of weeks and tonight it's well and truly sodded off. I am done. I am defeated. I have no more FUNNY left in me right now. I may just sit down and cry until my eyes swell up and my nose runs. There's a part of me that wants to do the whole spaghetti from the brain splat straight on to the blog. But there's a part of me that says no, not right now, maybe never. (and it's all so f*cking unbelievable anyway I can't even BEGIN to get my head round it all let alone put it into words) I really don't know anything anymore... All I do know is, that right now. Right this VERY minute. I could really do with a huge hug! But ain't nobody here but me and the sleeping peeps. :( If I get my act together enough then I'll be back on the NaBloPoMo waggon in the next couple of days, maybe even tomorrow (and we don't mention this again, deal?) Meanwhile: I have a VERY special shout out today. My lovely Lou at Our Home In The Sun is getting MARRIED!!! TODAY!!! Please pop over and leave some blog love :) Love you Lou! xx | ||
Let It Flow, let it flow, let it flow ....
There are quite lot of (excellent) blogs out there giving tips and advice on how to bring up children, behavioural psychology, do's and don'ts for parents ect.
So I thought, hey, I'll bet I could do that too!
(That would be a little like me deciding I'm an authority on kissing btw ;)
Anyway, I was at the supermarket today as I am most days thanks to
a) not owning a car and therefore not being able to do a big shop and
b) having two teenagers who NEVER seem to stop eating.
I was joined, as I often am, by a combination of pensioners with whom I enjoy a good fight for the nicer reduced items in the chiller dept.
Sometimes they win by blocking my access with tartan pull along trolleys but mostly I win because they can't bend far enough to get to the low shelf that Sainsburys very kindly put the stuff on. (possibly a post on this to follow)
Watch and weep old lady, watch and weep (I am KIDDING ... honest ;)
I'm also joined by the Mums and pre-school children.
Taking kids shopping is rarely fun for anyone, child, parent or innocent bystander so I thought ok, lets look at the difficulties from a different angle.
Lets work WITH them rather than against them.
I came up with a couple of ideas that MIGHT just save your sanity.
1) At the supermarket your child throws a tantrum refusing to move -
Answer - Simply tape banana skins under their shoes. Tie a leash around their wrist and TOW them behind you.
2) Your child is running around. Up and down aisles. Completely out of control and ignoring all your shouts and threats -
Answer - shout instructions to your child to do exactly what it is they are already doing thus giving the impression that they are perfectly behaved.
3) Your 18 month old reaches out and piles everything within arms reach into your trolley -
Answer - Say to everyone within hearing - ' amazing isn't it - I left my shopping list at home but fortunately he/she only had to read it once and they memorised everything on it! (wipe that smug smile off those bitches faces!)
4) Children demanding I want, I want all the way around the shop?
Answer - Give it to them ... simple! (making sure they have eaten/drunk/pocketed everything BEFORE you get to the checkout).
Finally if all else fails - when you are at your wits end, - when your head is pounding and you reach for those painkillers.
Try remembering :
It doesn't say 'KEEP AWAY FROM CHILDREN' for nothing on the side of a paracetamol bottle ;)
I am now feeling a warm, tingly glow having spread a little of my parenting wisdom.
Please do let me know if my tips help.
nb if any of the above result in arrest, I've never seen you before in my life!
Ok - time for today's shout out ....
Nikki - A Mother in France has joined in with NaBloPoMo this month and has been writing posts based on 30 Steps to Happiness and Contentment.
I look forward to them every day - they just warm my heart :)
So I thought, hey, I'll bet I could do that too!
(That would be a little like me deciding I'm an authority on kissing btw ;)
Anyway, I was at the supermarket today as I am most days thanks to
a) not owning a car and therefore not being able to do a big shop and
b) having two teenagers who NEVER seem to stop eating.
I was joined, as I often am, by a combination of pensioners with whom I enjoy a good fight for the nicer reduced items in the chiller dept.
Sometimes they win by blocking my access with tartan pull along trolleys but mostly I win because they can't bend far enough to get to the low shelf that Sainsburys very kindly put the stuff on. (possibly a post on this to follow)
Watch and weep old lady, watch and weep (I am KIDDING ... honest ;)
I'm also joined by the Mums and pre-school children.
Taking kids shopping is rarely fun for anyone, child, parent or innocent bystander so I thought ok, lets look at the difficulties from a different angle.
Lets work WITH them rather than against them.
I came up with a couple of ideas that MIGHT just save your sanity.
1) At the supermarket your child throws a tantrum refusing to move -
Answer - Simply tape banana skins under their shoes. Tie a leash around their wrist and TOW them behind you.
2) Your child is running around. Up and down aisles. Completely out of control and ignoring all your shouts and threats -
Answer - shout instructions to your child to do exactly what it is they are already doing thus giving the impression that they are perfectly behaved.
3) Your 18 month old reaches out and piles everything within arms reach into your trolley -
Answer - Say to everyone within hearing - ' amazing isn't it - I left my shopping list at home but fortunately he/she only had to read it once and they memorised everything on it! (wipe that smug smile off those bitches faces!)
4) Children demanding I want, I want all the way around the shop?
Answer - Give it to them ... simple! (making sure they have eaten/drunk/pocketed everything BEFORE you get to the checkout).
Finally if all else fails - when you are at your wits end, - when your head is pounding and you reach for those painkillers.
Try remembering :
It doesn't say 'KEEP AWAY FROM CHILDREN' for nothing on the side of a paracetamol bottle ;)
I am now feeling a warm, tingly glow having spread a little of my parenting wisdom.
Please do let me know if my tips help.
nb if any of the above result in arrest, I've never seen you before in my life!
Ok - time for today's shout out ....
Nikki - A Mother in France has joined in with NaBloPoMo this month and has been writing posts based on 30 Steps to Happiness and Contentment.
I look forward to them every day - they just warm my heart :)
Wednesday, 23 November 2011
Lean A Little Bit Closer
I read a post today that made my blood boil far more than it did the authors and it brought to mind a song by the Hayseed Dixis.
'I know you like to think your shit don't stank
But lean a little bit closer
See that roses really smell like poo poo
Yeah, roses really smell like poo poo'
I've mentioned before Big D's words of wisdom:
'Judge not lest you judge not you ...... hmmm, yes, just consider that Mum!'.
( I was no doubt having a bitchy, obviously well deserved rant about something or other )
Yep, I know, he makes about as much sense as me sometimes but you get where he's coming from.
People that make judgements about others based on nothing more than a brief observation make my blood boil!!
I don't care (much) if you hate me but at least do me the courtesy of getting to know me first!
Off on a tangent ...
I was having a conversation earlier about fantasies (of the sexual variety) with Mr R&R (that's rock and roll for those of you that caught Sundays post).
Now I think I may be a little boring in that respect as I really don't tend to have fantasies.
I'm not saying I don't THINK about sex, of COURSE I do but ... you know what, I'm not going down that road. You really don't want/need to know :).
Suffice to say you already know I had to google hog tied (B, step AWAY from google!!). What you don't know is that my response to someone telling me I should get a rabbit was:
'I already have more than enough pets thank you' (of course once they had stopped laughing for long enough to explain I had to go and google THAT too).
Anyway, back to R&R's fantasy. It involved a shower, me, and an unexpected visitor (him).
I don't have any real objection to being the muse in someones fantasy (although preferably not for that very odd man who lives up the road with the tartan scarf and the Yorkshire terrier who sniffs a lot).
BUT what I do have a HUGE objection to is that apparently, in R&R's fantasy I'm called Mindy!!!
MINDY FFS what does that make him??
MORK???
No sex I can live with if I must.
Alien sex, (even in someone else's fantasy) well, that's just way too weird for me!
And swinging right back to the beginning again.
The Hayseed Dixi's
Never heard of them?
Google - 'The moonshiners daughter' - if I were ever to marry again I want it as my opening song.
Believe it or not it is slightly more classy that the one I had at my first wedding - read this if you don't believe me. And, if you don't think THAT was bad enough - feel free to read the story of my honeymoon ;)
In fact - here you go - have the link. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1dY04exnjs
(but for god's sake, DON'T play it in the office ;)
Today's shout out is for Mrs Woog - yep, I know. Someone of Mrs Woogs mega blog status really doesn't need a shout out from me.
But anyone who writes a post about sexing chickens does, in my opinion, deserve proper recognition :)
'I know you like to think your shit don't stank
But lean a little bit closer
See that roses really smell like poo poo
Yeah, roses really smell like poo poo'
I've mentioned before Big D's words of wisdom:
'Judge not lest you judge not you ...... hmmm, yes, just consider that Mum!'.
( I was no doubt having a bitchy, obviously well deserved rant about something or other )
Yep, I know, he makes about as much sense as me sometimes but you get where he's coming from.
People that make judgements about others based on nothing more than a brief observation make my blood boil!!
I don't care (much) if you hate me but at least do me the courtesy of getting to know me first!
Off on a tangent ...
I was having a conversation earlier about fantasies (of the sexual variety) with Mr R&R (that's rock and roll for those of you that caught Sundays post).
Now I think I may be a little boring in that respect as I really don't tend to have fantasies.
I'm not saying I don't THINK about sex, of COURSE I do but ... you know what, I'm not going down that road. You really don't want/need to know :).
Suffice to say you already know I had to google hog tied (B, step AWAY from google!!). What you don't know is that my response to someone telling me I should get a rabbit was:
'I already have more than enough pets thank you' (of course once they had stopped laughing for long enough to explain I had to go and google THAT too).
Anyway, back to R&R's fantasy. It involved a shower, me, and an unexpected visitor (him).
I don't have any real objection to being the muse in someones fantasy (although preferably not for that very odd man who lives up the road with the tartan scarf and the Yorkshire terrier who sniffs a lot).
BUT what I do have a HUGE objection to is that apparently, in R&R's fantasy I'm called Mindy!!!
MINDY FFS what does that make him??
MORK???
No sex I can live with if I must.
Alien sex, (even in someone else's fantasy) well, that's just way too weird for me!
And swinging right back to the beginning again.
The Hayseed Dixi's
Never heard of them?
Google - 'The moonshiners daughter' - if I were ever to marry again I want it as my opening song.
Believe it or not it is slightly more classy that the one I had at my first wedding - read this if you don't believe me. And, if you don't think THAT was bad enough - feel free to read the story of my honeymoon ;)
In fact - here you go - have the link. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1dY04exnjs
(but for god's sake, DON'T play it in the office ;)
Today's shout out is for Mrs Woog - yep, I know. Someone of Mrs Woogs mega blog status really doesn't need a shout out from me.
But anyone who writes a post about sexing chickens does, in my opinion, deserve proper recognition :)
Monday, 21 November 2011
F*CK - I Think I Killed The Cat!!!
You might remember that a couple of weeks ago I thought the hamster was dead (and yet still put my daughter to bed in the same room).
Well, tonight as I was cooking tea (peppered steak, mashed potato, veg and gravy for those who might wish to know).
Anyway, there I was peeling the potatoes. The last of the bagthrust upon me kindly given to me by Woody.
Now these potatoes came straight out of the ground (yes KNOW they all do - I was brought up in the country doncha know :) and were still covered in mud.
So, before peeling them I gave them a bit of a scrub.
One of those suckers shot straight out of my hand (like a bar of soap through the air) and clocked the cat (who, at the time, was busy eating a sock in the washing basket) on the head!
Bear (he of little brain) went down like ........... well,kind of like a sack of spuds really .....
Seriously, I may not be a huge fan of thatlittle fucker cute ball of black and white fluff (let's not forget he has crapped behind my telly twice, in my bath once, eaten a hole through a cake I'd just made and left half a frog and frog juice on my kitchen floor) but I wouldn't intentionally hurt him!
Actually, it's hard to tell if any real damage has been done.
Sure he is just sitting in the kitchen staring intently at the dogs water bowl.
But to be honest, he spends quite a lot of his time staring gormlessly at stuff anyway ....
Hmm, I shall go and poke him just to set your minds at rest .....
I was planning a bit of a ranty post - I don't think I've done one of those for a while but it kind of got over taken by the potato/cat story and I'm feeling slightly less ranty now.
I did have a bit of a ranty bender yesterday though. I did something I've been wanting to do for a while but not had the courage to.
I defriended all those people on FB that are there because either they asked me to be their friend right at the beginning (even though I don't know them) and I was desperate not to look like a billy no mates.
I still don't know them, never comment on their posts or they on mine and so, they are GONE.
I also defriended a couple of people who I'm not really sure ARE my friends or have my best interests at heart.
Now I tend not to post anything very inflammatory on FB but even so, there are some people who don't need to know my business or who might want to share it with others when I'd really they rather didn't.
HOW paranoid do I sound?? (Well, if they stopped talking about me I might not be ;)
So, 11 people got the chop but I also added a new friend and somehow, I think my new friend is probably worth more than the eleven I culled.
I was wondering which blog to link to today and then I came across this post by Carmen at A Life Less Ordinary.
Read her quick before she blows herself up or something (no really, she MIGHT!)
Well, tonight as I was cooking tea (peppered steak, mashed potato, veg and gravy for those who might wish to know).
Anyway, there I was peeling the potatoes. The last of the bag
Now these potatoes came straight out of the ground (yes KNOW they all do - I was brought up in the country doncha know :) and were still covered in mud.
So, before peeling them I gave them a bit of a scrub.
One of those suckers shot straight out of my hand (like a bar of soap through the air) and clocked the cat (who, at the time, was busy eating a sock in the washing basket) on the head!
Bear (he of little brain) went down like ........... well,kind of like a sack of spuds really .....
Seriously, I may not be a huge fan of that
Actually, it's hard to tell if any real damage has been done.
Sure he is just sitting in the kitchen staring intently at the dogs water bowl.
But to be honest, he spends quite a lot of his time staring gormlessly at stuff anyway ....
Hmm, I shall go and poke him just to set your minds at rest .....
I was planning a bit of a ranty post - I don't think I've done one of those for a while but it kind of got over taken by the potato/cat story and I'm feeling slightly less ranty now.
I did have a bit of a ranty bender yesterday though. I did something I've been wanting to do for a while but not had the courage to.
I defriended all those people on FB that are there because either they asked me to be their friend right at the beginning (even though I don't know them) and I was desperate not to look like a billy no mates.
I still don't know them, never comment on their posts or they on mine and so, they are GONE.
I also defriended a couple of people who I'm not really sure ARE my friends or have my best interests at heart.
Now I tend not to post anything very inflammatory on FB but even so, there are some people who don't need to know my business or who might want to share it with others when I'd really they rather didn't.
HOW paranoid do I sound?? (Well, if they stopped talking about me I might not be ;)
So, 11 people got the chop but I also added a new friend and somehow, I think my new friend is probably worth more than the eleven I culled.
I was wondering which blog to link to today and then I came across this post by Carmen at A Life Less Ordinary.
Read her quick before she blows herself up or something (no really, she MIGHT!)
WoW - The Saddest Thing I Ever Heard
Write On Wednesdays Exercise 25 - I heard a song on the radio during the week and I thought the lyrics would make an interesting prompt for WoW. So, write the words "The saddest thing I ever heard" on your page, set your timer for 5 minutes and write the first words that come into your head based on the given prompt.
Sitting cross legged on the bed she was bathed in a pool of golden moonlight flooding in from the uncurtained window.
Like an enchanted ring of fire it kept her safe from the whispers.
She could hear them circling, trying to break through. Fragmented sentences, single words.
Whirling in the dark like leaves caught in a maelstrom. Sucking her down into the vortex of truth.
She drew her legs further away from the edge. She wasn't ready to accept their truth just yet.
Were they right?
She may never know.
But it was time to acknowledge that not wanting the words to be true didn't make is so.
The whispers intensified. Becoming louder, more insistent.
The whirling became faster and more frantic.
They knew they were winning, they could taste victory.
The moonlight flickered and faded
The circle was breached.
Rushing towards her the whispers enveloped her in a cloak of reality.
Refusing to be silenced any longer.
As she bowed her head in submission a glint of silver caught her eye.
Slowly, regretfully, she reached out into the shadows and, closing the box, she hid the bangle from view
**************************************************
Today's shout out goes to Saturday Morning Ogre Mum I haven't know Miss Cinders long but even when she's having a bit of a rant she still makes me smile :)
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