Monday, 27 February 2012

Because Sh*t Happens ...

'I brought this in for Miss Mac' I said sliding the bag across the reception desk.

The school receptionist looked at me, I looked at her and then, for a few moments, we both silently contemplated the bag of gently steaming dog shit on the desk in front of us.

'Tough morning?' she enquired sympathetically?

'Oh like you WOULDN'T believe' I burst out so incredibly grateful for a listening ear.

'First of all there was the accident with the potato farl which was entirely Big D's fault for stealing half my breakfast but then, who knew drop kicking a potato farl could inflict that kind of injury? I mean I know it was frozen and all that but SO much blood'.

'Then, on the way here, Gus decided to take a crap in the open driveway of a house where the family had  (up until that point) appeared to be enjoying a late breakfast and I had to stand there grinning inanely like the Cheshire bloody cat waving poo bags to indicate my willingness to clean up after my disgusting animal while he grunted and groaned tottering about leaving a line of little turds in his wake' .

'And of course, I didn't slept well last night because I couldn't get the vision of that evil goat out of my head and then when I did doze off ....'

I trailed off realising I'd mistaken weary resignation for sympathy.

'Well umm, I'll just take this then shall I and ummm .... leave?' I said and, with enormous dignity I picked up my bag of shit and made my way to the door.

'Oh Mrs Mac' she called sweetly, 'aren't you forgetting something?'

Ah ...

I walked back to the desk and replaced the bag of dog shit with the bag I was still clutching in my other hand containing a clean shirt and underwear for Miss Mac (chocolate milkshake related incident at break time).

I like to think I generally have a fairly GOOD relationship with my children's school (quickly skipping over both the Pimms episode and the time I declared I was dying in a field of daffodils!) and it's beyond me why my children feel the need to constantly stand out from the crowd!

School assemblies and open evenings seem to be the times when they shine the most.

More than 20 years on and the wailing of Big D can still be heard in the corridors completely drowning out Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer as he bawled, 'Don't wanna be a reindeer in tights - wanna wear trousers like a BIG boy!!!'

I've always suspected my children may have hidden musical ability so, when Miss Mac expressed an interest in leaning the guitar one was purchased and lessons were signed up for.

A few weeks later she proudly announced that she and a friend would be taking part in a sharing assembly.

'Umm, ok, but haven't you only had a couple of lessons?' I asked.

'We've been practising LOADS' she smiled.

Clearly she was a child prodigy (something I had long suspected!).

I took my place in the very centre of the front row.

Plink, plink, plink, plink ....

I looked around proudly as they warmed up.

Plink, plink, plink plink, plunk!

Plink, plink, plink plink, plunk!

Plink, plink, plink plink, plunk!

This went on for some time....

I looked around encouragingly at the other parents.

plink, plink, plunk, plink.

plink, plink, plunk, plink.

I bit the inside of my cheek and dug my nails into my leg.

My eyes started to water.

 I gulped really hard and then ....

I snorted like a pig!!!

plink, plink, plinkety, plunk ...

Would this NEVER end???

Three of the LONGEST hours later (ok, it was probably only about 4 minutes in reality but it FELT like three hours!) they paused and the teacher, god bless her soul, rushed over to the girls and congratulated them totally straight faced on a wonderful performance whilst fortunately the over enthusiastic clapping of the crowd drowned out this proud mothers howls of hysterical mirth.

Unfortunately all this praise went slightly to the head of the other little girl who eagerly announced.

'We know another song!'

Sunday, 26 February 2012

Sarah Helps Out ...

Surfer Dude : suspiciously -   'Are you taking photos again?'

Me: innocently -   'Noooo....  I'm HELPING!'

SD: with exagerated patience -  'It would really 'help' if you got down off that f*cking ladder and STOPPED taking photos!'

Ok, so I was up a ladder in a barn hanging precariously out of the window taking photos because   ...

The way the light was catching this tree against
 the sky was JUST beautiful!

When Surfer Dude suggested a day at the farm yesterday I jumped at the chance (how much do I LOVE the smell of cow shit :).

When he said 'dress for getting dirty there's work to do' obviously I assumed we would be strolling around picking up the odd free range egg or two (preferably sans chicken shit) before sitting on the lawn eating cream teas ....

When SD took one look at me and chucked me a pair of overalls I protested.

I do NOT do orange!

After a lot of pouting (which he ignored) I was persuaded to at least change out of my boots and into a pair of trainers (only 2 sizes too big!)

Unfortunately that did highlighted the fact that I'd pinched a pair of Miss Macs jeans which were a little on the short side for me.

I declined the offer of 'a pair of long socks so I could tuck them in' ... seriously SD?

On what planet was I EVER going to do that? (sigh ... picture it if you must ... ;).

So I rolled the jeans up bovver girl style - well least, I like to think that's how it looked but I suspect I just looked ridiculous and I got stuck in!

Me: 'SD, I have cobwebs in my haaayer'.

Me: SD, I don't think the goat likes me much.

Me:  SD, the goat is giving me the evil eye.

Me: SD, when a goat puts it head down and paws the ground, what does it mean?

Me:  SD, the fucking goat is CHASING me!!!

SD: 'Sarah, I am up a fucking ladder, I have cobwebs in MY hair and I am trying to fit this window.

Will you STOP taking photos, playing with the fucking goat and whinging and hold the bottom of the fucking ladder!!!'

(I'm pretty sure that level of bad language was TOTALLY unneccessary ....)

When I'd finished 'helping' fit the window I looked around expectantly.

Me: 'Is it time for the cream tea now?'

SD: 'pick up the Devon and follow me'

Devon?  As in Devonshire cream tea???

Hmmm, not quite ...

THIS is a Devon!

To be continued ....

Wednesday, 22 February 2012

Share, Because I Care ...

Rewinding at the Fibro.

Allison's really hit the jackpot this week with the rewind theme being lessons.

I am a veritable (self confessed) expert in SO many area that it was actually quite hard to choose a post!

After much cogitation I decided to share my relationship counselling expertise with you all.

I'm sure you will find it very insightful and, don't forget, if YOU need any help with a tricky relationship matter, just ask, I'm here for you.


Do you know, I think I may become a relationship counsellor.

I've decided that I'm pretty good at giving advice (dare I say, even an expert;).

Of course, I have my own experiences to draw on and, (after the fact), I know exactly where I've been going wrong.

I bet you expect me to tell you now don't you?

Well, I'm not going to.

This is MY gig and I'm not having all of you jumping on the band waggon.  It takes more than a few stolen insights to become a relationship counsellor you know!

I've been giving some great advice lately.

Before Christmas I told a friend that he should really talk to his wife and not be tempted by a local Jezebel.

I said he should rediscover his passion ....

So he did (with the local Jezebel!).

She then had a wobble and ended it which I said was a GOOD thing, now he could talk to his wife and rediscover the passion ....

So he left his wife and started a long distance romance.

Meanwhile the local Jezebel is expressing an interest again and he is torn about where and with whom he should be rediscovering his passion ....

So I told him he was a tart.

As a starting point I think I'm doing pretty well so far don't you?

More to come (possibly) and, if you are in need of a little advice well ....

I'm here for you :)

Monday, 13 February 2012

You Don't Have to Say You Love Me

Today Valentines Day has been smacking me around the face.

I had a great weekend.

Saturday was a beautiful day.  The sun shone and it was really pretty mild so (and those of you who know me may be able to guess what's coming next ;) ...

I went to the beach!

Well of course I did, what else would I do?

Saunton Sands followed by Croyde and the famous Thatch pub for dinner.

 Sadly by the time I got to Croyde the light had faded too much to take any decent photos on my phone (have I ever mentioned that  I crave a decent camera?  Hmm, once or twice maybe ... ;).

Anyway, I think my phone did pretty damned good, take a look at these ....

Almost total whiteout as my phone couldn't cope with the light (but I quite like it)
This was even more beautiful in real life!
These guys were warming up before hitting the surf
Sitting on the balcony drinking wine looking at this!!!
Does life GET much better?
The sun was like a pool of fire on the water
Everything, including the sand turned pink (sadly this doesn't quite pick it all up)
I love this one with the guy carrying his surfboard :)

we stopped on the way as I couldn't resist this
 sunlight on the water

The photos are all over the place, sorry, blogger will NOT behave!!

For me these photos represent true beauty, true romance...

You can keep all the chocolates, hearts and flowers and cute bears holding hearts ect.

Of COURSE Id like to be spending tomorrow with someone special.

I'd love to be someones waking thought and the last thing on their mind before they slept, but sadly that's just not the way things are right now ...

But hey, maybe one day and meanwhile I can't really complain can I?

Happy Valentines Day all and, if like me, you don't have anyone to share it with this year then these photos are for you too. xxxx

Wednesday, 8 February 2012

WoW - Possessing Beauty

I wrote this post more than 2 years ago as part of the Write on Wednesdays meme.  My fiction is a million miles away from from the usual scatty tales of mayhem that is my life but, as the prompt this week over at The Lounge is the post you are most proud of then it has to be this one.

A mixture of fact and fiction and how I was in that moment of time:

Write On Wednesdays

The Write on Wednesday Spark:  Possessing Beauty
Write about a collection. Write about something you or ,someone you know, collects. Think about the "why" behind the collection - why is it important to collect this particular thing? How does it make the person feel to add another piece to their collection? Is the group of objects there to be seen, to be studied or simply kept together? Write a real life story or a piece of fiction. Wherever the prompt takes you...Keep your post on the short side: up to 500 words OR a 5 minute stream of consciousness exercise. Link your finished piece to the list and begin popping by the other links. Oh, and enjoy!

This is a story that I've re-worked, I think I even published it for about 5 minutes a while ago.

It's been around for a while and the link, although slightly tenuous, seemed to me to fit with this weeks prompt.

Today seemed like the right day to bring it out (sorry, I've completely overshot the word count and time!)

Tall Poppies

The box was tucked away at the very back of the cupboard.

She hadn't thought about it for years and gradually it had been hidden under a pile of other things, all too precious to part with but without a place in her daily life.

Gently she traced the outline of the flowers painted on the lid.  Their vibrant colours had faded over the years.

The gilt edge of the box was worn and scuffed.

Sinking into the chair next to the bed, the box on her knee she mentally ran through the contents.

Wanting, before opening it, to reassure herself that she hadn't forgotten anything.

That the passing years hadn't dimmed the memories.

She place the box very precisely on the bedside table.  It seemed important that it should be just so.

 For a moment she was tempted to  just put the box back on the shelf and pretend she hadn't found it.

After all, she hadn't even been looking for it.

With a small sigh she lifted the lid and there, on the top, where she had laid it so long ago it was the gold pin.

It was for a scarf or maybe even a hat. The small golden cap that used to fit snugly over the sharp end to stop it from being lost was long gone but the pin, a delicate, tiny sapphire, surrounded by seed pearls in the shape of a daisy nestled in the tissue paper she had wrapped it in on the evening of her wedding day.

She remembered so clearly the day her Grandmother had given it to her.

She was 13.

Her Grandmother was dying and, although she hadn't been aware of it she thought now that perhaps her Grandmother had sensed that the end was near.

"Keep it safe" she had told her.  "Wear it on your wedding day.  Something old, something blue".

Many, many years later she did just that, threading the gold pin into the cream lace top of her stocking.

With the sharp point grazing her thigh as she walked down the aisle towards her future husband she had felt her Grandmother walked beside her.

Taking the pin from the box she turned it over and over in her hands.

Smoothing the petals with her fingertips.

If she could see her now, what would she think?

"Tall poppies" she would say.

"Remember, the  tall poppies may flaunt themselves in a field of wheat.

They may think they are special because they stand head and shoulders above the rest.

Because they are brighter and their beauty draws the eye.

Because the bees stop by and the butterflies rest a while.

But come harvest time the combine doesn't see the difference between the wheat and the poppies.

The combine cuts everything in it's path".

She hadn't listened.  She had thought her Grandmother was wrong.

She had basked in the warmth.

She had weathered the storms.

Her petals darkened slightly, bearing watermarks from falling rain, her marriage failed but still she reached out towards the sun.

And her Grandmother was wrong.

The end didn't come from the combine harvester after all.

The end came from the scythe.

A sweeping cut so low and so swift that she didn't feel the pain until she was already falling.

Into the dust, petals crushed and torn under careless feet.

The wheat closed in above her and turned it's face back to the sun as though the tall poppy had never been.


Tuesday, 7 February 2012

Confessions Of A Sock Slut

You know when you think you really KNOW someone?

When you just know that you're going to be besties FOREVER and EVER and tell them everything and buff each others toenails and go for bikini wax's together and, even when you're REALLY old, you'll still go car booting together and knit each other monogrammed doilies for Christmas?

And then they go and do something that makes you wonder if they really know you AT ALL???

Yes - I'm talking about YOU girlies over at The Lounge!! (hosted this week by Rachel at The Very Inappropriate Blog).

This week is 'Simply The Best' week and you're supposed to link up your best ever post ....

Don't they KNOW that I'm master, mistress AND slave to the indecision???

I haven't got a bloody CLUE what my best post is!!!  And I have toothache - which possibly isn't really a significant factor but it doesn't bloody help either does it??

Anyway, you're getting this one which may or may not be my best ever post (and contains no reference to dead, randy or even bad tempered animals ... or shit ...  - some of my best posts are shit related - theme for next week perhaps .....?).

So here it is:

My Name Is Sarah And I Am A Sock Slut ....

How long does it take to buy a pair of socks?

I reckon .........   about 4 minutes?

Pop into Primark, pick up 7 pairs of black cotton rich socks for 2 quid and it's a done deal.

I'm a 'buy it in bulk, buy it in black' kinda girl.

I've hinted before that as far as I'm concerned socks are communal property, I will happily steal your socks and claim them as my own if you are foolish enough to leave them lying around.

Let's face it, pairing up socks is on a par with ...  I don't know ... ironing tea towels maybe??

Why would you? *

Cheap is also the way to go as far as I'm concerned. **

Anyone that's seen Master Mac prehensile toenails will understand where I'm coming from.

Seriously, that boy has full on CLAWS !!  He goes through socks like (for some reason I want to say 'a nun with the trots' ...  must be the latent poet in me ;)

Anyway, 3 weeks ago (please note that I mention the fact that it was 3 weeks ago for VERY good reasons which will become apparent)  Surfer Dude and I were partaking of a grande latte in Neros and I noticed this gentleman sitting opposite us with the longest feet I've ever been privileged enough to come across.  They were seriously like canoes!

Of course I whipped out my phone to take a photo to show you but Surfer Dude wrestled it off me muttering things like 'invasion of privacy', 'inapropriate' and, rather oddly I though, 'copywrite'.

A very ungentlemanly struggled enchewed as I bleated, 'but what about my readers, think of my readers dammit' (I may have even bitten him at one point).

Sadly, being male and (only just!) the stronger of the two, he won so no pic I'm afraid :(

After I'd been consoled with a super expensive slab of fair trade tiffin (oh yes, I CAN be bought;) the conversation moved to socks and it transpired that Surfer Dude was in need.

I've mentioned that he works in a school.  Well, he mostly teaches PE to kids from disadvantaged backgrounds and ones who struggle to fit into mainstream school (not all fit into both categories btw).  So, given that it seems finding the right socks is very important (it's the PE bit here that's significant in case you were wondering).

In fact, it's almost bloody impossible!!!

Do you know, he wouldn't even go into Primark!!!

I may be a sock slut but he's even worse, he's a


We have trawled shops in four counties over the past three weeks, perusing, examining thread count, rubbing soles and toes between our fingers, looking at each other knowledgeably before saying, 'hmmmm' and discarding***.

We have considered and cogitated, discussed and dismissed.

The only thing we haven't done is sprinkled the bloody things with salt and pepper and eaten them with a knife and fork!!!

I shit you NOT.

Did you for instance know that you can get sock with silver technology? 

F*ck knows what that means but you can.

You can get atmospherically sensitive socks, socks with aloe vera to soothe those tired feet, super absorbent socks (that is kind of ewww don't you think?), socks with gel inserts, easy grip cuffs, socks that tell the time and even ones that nibble away at those prehensile toenails as you walk ****

So, tonight when we popped into Sainsburys to buy some peppermint tea and I caught Surfer Dude once again soulfully stroking the sock collection something in me snapped, this red mist descended and I marched up to him, grabbed the socks out of his hand and strode towards the till with him bleating in my wake 'but ... but ...'.

I stopped and turned and, -  bringing my face very close to his, I said in an apparently VERY loud and carrying voice an authoritative voice:

'Sufer Dude, you are buying these fucking socks ok now do NOT make me bite you again'.

We bought the socks.

(I am please to say that I am now the proud owner of 5 new pairs of socks .... :)

* Please note, that is a rhetorical question!

** cheap cotton rich  - NOT cheap nylon, I do have some standards ...

*** I truthfully didn't give a shit and would have bought any or all of them.

**** I may have made the last couple up ....

Monday, 6 February 2012

Be My Guest

Sharing the load

I was part way through a post on .... well, never mind, you'll find out ;) when up popped a post from Multiple Mum at And then there were four who is guest posting at The Mummy Autobiography for Miss Pink.

(is it just me or does that sound like an opening paragraph for an Enid Blyton Faraway Tree book ;)

Anyhow, not to stray too far from the point!

I see guest posts pop up from time to time and have idly queried their purpose.

Possibly the blogger hosting the guest post is going on holiday or something and doesn't want a big gap between posts.

Possibly the guest poster writes a blog on a similar subject and has something relevant to say.

Possibly, but neither of those always seem to fit.

Ok, I don't mean that what they have to say isn't relevant, god, I really should THINK before I speak!

What I mean is that either or both blogs may not be about specific subjects and therefore, there is no direct link between the blogs.

Anyway, having read MM's guest post:

 'It is surreal, but it is real. In an internet kind of way' - great title btw!

I felt like Newton when the apple fell from the tree and I got it!!!

It's another way of sharing great reads, I can be a little slow sometimes ;)

As the subject was on Internet friendships and how you sometimes picture a person when reading their blog it was, given my recent post, something I can really identify with.

There's an awful lot of sharing going on around the blogosphere, something that I think took me more by surprise than anything else (in a really GOOD way) - I was very hesitant when I started, was it all about numbers, everyman/woman for themselves, a fierce battle for the most readers, the biggest number of hits??

Well, yep, I'm not so naive that I don't think that goes on but I tend to steer well clear of that kind of stuff.  I quite like my blog being of a size where I get to know people and I can answer comments without it turning into a full time job.

But, on a day to day level the people I've come across are only to happy to share their space, give credit where it's due and, in some cases, give other a place to post anonymously should there be something they need to share in confidence (you know who you are:).

Well, I LIKE!! 

And I sometimes post rubbish so this could be a blog lifesaver for me...

And I'm a bit lazy sometimes so if someone wants to take a load off me then that all good too ;) ...

So, I'm off to ask a blog buddy if they would like to write a guest post for me.

Thanks MM and Miss Pink for helping me to, at long last, get it!

Oh, and I'm always available to guest post if you want to frighten off half your readership ;)  I feel it's time I returned to the funny :)

Friday, 3 February 2012


Welcome to the very first nomination for the Kindred Spirit Award.

If you read Yesterdays post (and shame on you if you didn't;) then you will know what it's all about.

I've faffed around with the picture a bit - It wasn't quite right before.

After all, if an award is coming from me then it's got to be turquoise right?

Actually, I didn't have a clue what I was doing, saw this thing called colour saturation and clicked on it and half the colour disappeared ...

(but I kind of like it that way.  It's a little bit messy, just like me :)

First of all the rules (dammit, there HAVE to be a couple!;)

1)  Choose between 1 and 3 blogs that you want to pass the award on to and link to them in your post.

2)  Do a short (or as long as you like write up about the blog of your choice telling us a little about them and why you feel they are a kindred spirit.

3)  Link to a post on their blog that you feel epitomises the writer.

4) Don't forget to leave a comment on their blog telling them that you have passed the award on to them.

5) Oh, and don't forget to grab your award above and either stick it in your post or in your side bar.

My first nominee for the Kindred Spirit Award is (drum roll) ......

Lesley from Postcard Pam Goes Large.

Don't hate me Lesley, I know I've just tagged you in the Blog Buddies Questionnaire and that's more than enough to be going on with I expect!

So, why did I choose Lesley?

Well, there are so many people I could have tagged (and may yet do!!:) but Lesley is pretty special to me.

She's been around since almost the start of this blog (that's 10 months now!!).

She's left lovely comments.  Given helpful advice.  Been a shoulder to cry on.  MADE me cry with laughter (and once or twice with sadness). 

Pulled me up when I've been down.  Laughed at me and with me when those damned 'things' have happened and, although we have yet to meet (and I have NO doubt that we will!) she has become a true friend.

Aside from all that, why do I like her so much?


She is F*cking hilarious!!

Don't believe me?

Read THIS - I defy anyone not to be rolling on the floor with laughter!

She reminds me of me in so many ways - a little scatty, a little mad with the same sense of the ridiculous.

There's SO much I want to tell you about her but she says it so much better than I ever could.

Read about her new job as a Postie here.

Read THIS for a one liner that made me snort coffee through my nose and also because it's one of THE most beautiful posts  (and photos) I've read so far.

Just READ her dammit she's a F*CKING STAR!!!!

Love you PP ;) xx

Rest assured there WILL be more awards flying out of Fudge because you lot are SO fucking awesome! :)