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!
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