Scary Squrrels And Sleeping With One Hand On Your Nuts

To be honest, there hasn't been a lot of sleep happening around these parts the last couple of weeks.

If it's not me waking up for reasons unknown or because my back has started playing up a little again and wakes me when I turn over in my sleep then it's SD tossing and turning.

Whatever the reason I seem to be woken up several times a night at the moment.

I asked SD how he slept the other morning.

'Not great' he said, 'I had a terrible dream!'

'God, what happened?' I asked. 'Did you dream someone chopped off your arm with a hacksaw and chased you down the road brandishing it? - Did you dream you jumped out of a plane and when you looked up you realised that your parachute was made out of marshmallow? - Were you hiding under a bush while a giant cat with fangs stalked you?

WERE YOU RUNNING AWAY FROM A GIANT OXO CUBE???

SD looked at me a little oddly ...

'Ummm, no ...'

'A really pissed off squirrel jumped through the sunroof of the van ...'

I looked at SD a little oddly ...

Really, as bad dreams go I think you might agree that I have the upper hand here ...

But there was MORE!!!

The squirrel had apparently been quite happy throwing chestnuts (still in their prickly cases) at passing cars from the safety of his tree and chuckling to himself.

Fairly innocuous wouldn't you agree?

Anyway, SD's mistake had been to laugh at how bad a shot the squirrel was as he passed by.

Apparently the squirrel had clocked him making fun of his aim and waited until he drove past again before tipping a wheelbarrow FULL of chestnuts onto the van.

Unfortunately the squirrels aim was still shit and he peaked to early and tipped them all over the road whereupon SD drove over them laughing.

This incensed the squirrel SO much that he launched himself at the van intending to jump on to the roof.

Even more unfortunately he hadn't spotted the open sunroof so he fell right into the van.

'But what happened NEXT???' I wanted to know ...

'Well, then I woke up'  said SD ...


Seriously, if SD considers THAT to be a bad dream he really hasn't lived - even my giant oxo cube was more menacing don't you think?

Nothing To Fear Here ...

It's almost Halloween so, Karen over at Baking in a Tornado had this completely barking mad idea REALLY GOOD idea that we should all get together and write a poem about it.

Along with some other (I suspect far more talented) bloggers I thought I'd give it a go.

If you've been around Fudge for long you will have seen that I have somewhat of a love for the old poetry lark.  I'm rather more enthusiastic than talented though as a quick look back at my previous attempts proved with this one that I wrote the day I discovered I was wearing my dress INSIDE OUT in town and this one after I accidently baked my son cock cakes for his Birthday. Oh, and THIS one when all my appliances ganged up on me and finally - this one about bingo and big boobs ...

Anyway, I think it's fair to say that my poetry pretty much sucks BUT I DON'T CARE and I carry on writing it anyway.

It's not quite as bad as Miss Macs pumpkin carving though as I think this photo proves ...

And this is why she isn't allowed to do it anymore ...

So, with no more ado - I give you:

Nothing To Fear Here


There's a night in October called All Hallows Eve
when the ghosts and the ghouls come to play
They dance and they prance and they cackle with glee
all with a faint whiff of decay


Spooks, apparitions and phantoms roam free
Ghosts, wraiths, bats and goblins abound
The churchyard becomes a no-go zone
As they claim it as their stomping ground

Jack-O-Lanterns burn on the windowsill bright
To ward off the evil spectre
While inside I huddle (the covers pulled high)
On speed dial the local Rector

It isn't the witches and wizards I fear
(Though they do play a part in my thoughts)
Or even the touch of those cold, bony hands
It's the fact that they're covered in WARTS!

I mean, come on witches, ghoulies and ghosts
Take a seat, have a cheeky Sambuca
It's a medical ailment and easily cured
Just apply a little Bazuka!

Don't forget to check out the other entries by clicking on the links below!

Blogger and Blog: Karen of Baking In A Tornado
Name of Poem: Stubble, Rubble, Boil and Bubble
Link: http://www.bakinginatornado.com/2015/10/stubble-rubble-boil-and-bubble.html

Blogger and Blog: Lydia of Cluttered Genius
Name of Poem: A (Parenting) Halloween Poem
Link: http://www.clutteredgenius.com/2015/10/27/a-parenting-halloween-poem/

Blogger and Blog: Sarah of The Momisodes
Name of Poem:
Link:

Blogger and Blog: Dawn of Spatulas on Parade
Name of Poem: Ghost, Gobblins and Dessert OH MY
Link: http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/2015/10/ghost-gobblins-and-dessert-oh-my.html

Blogger and Blog: Robin of Someone Else's Genius
Name of Poem: It Could Happen - A Poem
Link: http://www.someoneelsesgenius.com/2015/10/it-could-happen-poem.html

Blogger and Blog: Tamara of Confessions of a part-time working mom
Name of Poem: Of Springboks and Ghouls 
Link: http://thethreegerbers.blogspot.com/2015/10/of-springboks-and-ghouls.html 

Blogger and Blog: Sarah of People Don't Eat Enough Fudge
Name of Poem: Nothing To Fear Here 
Link: http://peopledonteatenoughfudge.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/nothing-to-fear-here.html

Blogger and Blog: Candice of Measurements of Merriment
Name of Poem: Witches & Vampires
Link: http://measurementsofmerriment.blogspot.de/2015/10/witches-vampires.html

Blogger and Blog: Jules of The Bergham Chronicles
Name of Poem: Spooktacular Poetry
Link: http://berghamchronicles.blogspot.com/2015/10/spooktacular-poetry.html

Blogger and Blog: Jenn of Sparkly Poetic Weirdo
Name of Poem: The Maddening Mask
Link: http://sparklyjenn.blogspot.com/.../the-maddening-mask.html

Blogger and Blog: Steena of The Angrivated Mom
Name of Poem: Cursed By The Devil's Kiss 
Link: https://angrivatedmom.wordpress.com/?p=493&preview=true

Blogger and Blog: Anna-May of Silence of the Mom
Name of Poem:
Link:

Blogger and Blog:
Name of Poem:
Link:

All Is NOT As It Seems ... And How I was NEARLY A Millionaire!

'I can almost trim the hair on my legs with the nail scissors'

I observe my beautiful shining daughter with her fresh, unlined face, her glossy, thick hair, her carefully arched brows and her newly painted nails ...

And I must confess, I wondered ...

I wondered what other horrors lurked beneath this gorgeous exterior?

Has her body in adolescence also become covered in scales like a fish?

Does she now possess claws like a chicken in place of feet?

HAS SHE GROWN A TAIL????

Seriously though, I LOVE having a daughter, she steals borrows my clothes (and looks SO much better in them than I do) - I borrow try on her clothes (and she looks SO much better in them than I do ...).

She lets me know when I have glitter in my moustache or scrambled egg in my hair.

She tells me when I'm dressed 'age inappropriately' and I always generally ignore her.

We have competitions to see who has the longest tongue (she won), who can pull the freakiest faces (pretty even). who has the longest toe hair (Miss Mac by a mile!) and who can touch the top of the door frame with their foot (I am quietly proud to say I was the winner although I did fall over and now can't stand completely straight ...).

Miss Mac has been contemplating the forthcoming festive season.

FAR too early in my humble opinion!

SHE is of the opinion that we should invest in some new Christmas decorations ...

Now I'll admit that some of mine ARE pretty ancient and some are broken and nothing matches but they have HISTORY and although they might be fairly crap they do have a certain familiarity which I find comforting.

Anyway, have you SEEN the price of new decorations???

Actually, I haven't because I haven't looked and I don't intend to when I can ....

MAKE THEM MYSELF OUT OF LOO ROLL INNERS!!!

Impressed?

You won't be when you see them ...

I don't know how I came to be googling what to do with the cardboard inners from loo rolls.  Possibly I was trying to placate SD who is perplexed at how much of the stuff Miss Mac and I can get through (honestly, it's like kitchen rollgate and wet towelgate ALL OVER AGAIN!!!).

Maybe I thought that if I could come up with some ingenious use for the spent loo roll inners then he would see the advantage of having a world surplice and in addition to that our recycling box wouldn't be over flowing with the things.

I found some fairly crappy ideas (geddit?  Loo roll/crappy?).  I could make wall art out of them:

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 Not really my thing ...

I could plant seedlings in them:

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But that's what I have Janet for, she grows all my seedlings ...


I could even make faux birch napkin rings out of them!!!

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I might try that one. SO handy when you can't find your regular napkin rings don't you think ....

So anyway, I had a think and then I had a rummage through the cupboard under the stairs where I chuck everything and cant find anything my craft cupboard and I found some self adhesive silver glitter paper that I'd used to cover the shoe box for Miss Mac's birthday cake:

For those who missed that MASTERPIECE (those are actually cupcakes on the top)

I looked at the glitter paper and I looked at the loo roll inners and a plan formed in my head ...

I actually started with the inner from a kitchen roll holder as we had one of those that was inexplicably used up too.

I quickly cover one with the paper.  Cut it lenghtwise to open it up.  Measured out the strips and cut them into lengths and then joined them up sticking them with sellotape.

SD won't let me have a hot glue gun however much I crave one.  He says he can't spare the time to constantly take me up to A&E to have stuff surgically removed after I've stuck myself to it which I think is VERY unfair because it's my friend Claire who superglued herself to the toilet cistern and it was also Claire who had to drive to my house with a brush tangled in her fringe so that I could cut it out for her.  I've NEVER had to go to A&E with a foreign object stuck to my person (although there was that one time I when I stuck a wooden spatula to my ankle when I tried to wax my legs and I had to walk around like that for several hours before I could pluck up the courage to rip it off ...)

ANYWAY!

It didn't look TOO bad

But you could see where I'd marked the inside with marker pen and the sellotape looked messy so I thought I'd try again ...

I decided to try again with a loo roll inner.

I cut this one lengthwise first and then covered BOTH sides with the glitter paper before cutting it into strips.

Then I remembered that Miss Mac had some double sided sellotape for mounting photos for her photography course so I rummaged under her bed until I found it and stuck them together with that.

It looked GREAT and I was considering where I could hang my masterpiece once it was finished when I heard a popping sound.

The double sided tape hadn't held and this is what I was left with:

After all my hard work!!!

If I had a hot glue gun that would NEVER have happened would it?

The little picture in my head of me opening my own Etsy shop and selling all this cool stuff I'd made with loo roll inners exploded into nothingness all because SD thinks I can't be trusted with a bit of hot glue!

If he only he had a bit more faith in me we could have all been millionaires!!

Slightly Battered But Not Bruised ..

I've just read a post by Val, the Victorian at Unbagging the Cats (a blog name I love almost as much as my own!).

Val is currently suffering from 'Flushotknee' and it sounds very painful (but seems thankfully to be on the mend!).

Anyway, it reminded me of this post that I wrote way, way back and I thought I'd re-post it again to show solidarity so here it is:


Slightly Battered But Not Bruised ..


I wasn't going to blog today (I say that on a fairly frequent basis) - I thought you might deserve a day off but then I though nah, you probably don't.

Besides, I need to say a huge THANK YOU to Slapdash Mama for hosting regurgitated 'Clipboards And Catshit' yesterday and I thought that while I was here I might tell you about some of the extraordinary similarities we share that actually make me wonder if I DID make her up!

First of all there's the name:

She's called Sarah - I'm called Sarah but, if that wasn't enough, we are BOTH called Sarah Mac!

She embraces Slapdashery (near enough is good enough) and I live by the philosophy of domestic sluttery (under everything there is something).

She baked the shit out of spiral things in the same week I baked the shit out of these!

She write atrocious poetry, I write much better rhyming stuff something similar.

It's ENDLESS I tell you!

So, in the interest of oneness I thought I'd copy her borrow an idea from her and show you my OOTD (that's outfit of the day to those not in the know).

If you want to see Sarah's OOTDs then take a look around her blog, it's full of useful hints like  - how to best photograph your camel toe in jeggings.

Anyway, enough about NS, this is about me, me, ME!

I'm not going to show you my OOTD for today because I'm not wearing it yet ... Oh, ok, if you insist - right now, I'm wearing:

Very sexy cropped legging and a huge t-shirt (probably stolen) which I wore to bed because it's bloody freezing!

I'm still not going to show you my OOTD because I don't actually know what it is yet so I'll show you yesterdays.

Although I decided that rather than take a photo pointing downwards like Sarah did (cause that's hard!) Id just lie on the floor with my legs in the air (cause that's easier until you have to get up again).

legging and Golddigga boots

I couldn't recreate Sarah's camel toe - god knows I TRIED, honest! So I decided to go for the 'model' pose instead ;)

Not sure I entirely pulled this one off  - possibly I just look constipated but I did manage to recreate Sarah's HUGE hand

See all that shit on the floor?  It was on the bed but it got on the photo so I chucked it on the floor where it was STILL in the photo so I threw a towel over it and now you can barely see it!

I really really wanted to recreate Sarah's 'foot on the bath' shot but the mirror in my bathroom is about 6ft away from the bath and even my legs wont stretch that far so I hoicked my leg up onto the frame of the bed and took this moments before I fell over.

Talking of photos, did you see THIS yesterday????

The bruise dammit, not the scrotty nail varnish!

Anyway, that's a pretty impressive bruise no?

SD dropped a trailer on my foot on Tuesday night AND WAS NOT AT ALL SORRY!!!

Apparently it was my own fault for standing exactly where he told me to doing exactly what he told me to do  - duh - how VERY stupid of me! Then he had the cheek to say I was making a fuss over nothing when I hopped around in agony.

Anyway, yesterday I was all set to show him a bloody great bruise so that he would be really, really sorry and make me endless cups of tea and stuff but!!!

Not a mark!  Not one single little bruise!!!

I was NOT happy!

So I painted that one on with makeup ;)

Socially Unaware

 'Such a lovely kitty' she says stroking the calico cat with the orange collar setting the tiny bell dangling from it jingling with every stroke.  The cat rubs it's head against her free hand lovingly.  Her other hand clutches empty bottles to against the dark green jumper, slightly baggy and ragged at the edge of the sleeves as though it has caught and snagged on brambles growing in a hedge which it probably has.

She see's me glance at the bottles.

'I've been collecting again' she says.  I take this to mean that she has been picking up discarded bottles from the park and she confirms this when she tells me that she has been in the park where the police have been searching for a man with blood on his face and she has redirected them up the road leading towards the town where she saw him run a few minutes before.

She looks at me over the top of her thick rimmed glasses, her eyes looking so much smaller and somehow vulnerable without the magnification of the prescription lenses.

'We are loosing Bob you know' she tells me.

I'm shocked, I haven't seen Bob for a couple of weeks but the last time I saw him he seemed in good health.

I tell her I didn't know and ask what has happened.

'He's moving away' she tells me.  'To Bridgwater I believe'.

I'm relieved. She doesn't mean Bob at all, she means Dennis who is hoping to move nearer his family.

I stand awkwardly still clutching the bag of rubbish I had intended to put in the wheelie bin not really knowing how to either continue or end this conversation and conscious of the nip in the air and the feel of the cold tiles on my bare feet.

She continues to stroke the cat over and over, rubbing it behind the ears as it pushes it's whole body against her in ecstasy.

She's very small and stoops slightly making her appear even smaller.  Her slacks are a dark maroon colour and made of a quilted material that sags slightly around her derriere.  On her feet are sturdy caramel coloured lace up shoes tied in double bows.

There is a faint whiff of gin mixed with the strong smell of tobacco which seems to permeate her skin as well as being exhaled with every breath she takes courtesy of her 30 a day habit.

She comes every month to our pensioners bingo with her gentleman friend buying 3 books each time which I can never understand as surely it's easier to play 6 books and know that you will have to cross out every number?

It doesn't really matter though as she will invariably leave at 20 minute intervals eliciting annoyed glances from the other players to stand outside and puff on a cigarette.

She likes to help by doing the washing up after the interval where we serve teas and Janets homemade cakes along with the eye wateringly strong cheese and onion sandwiches made by Bob.

This also elicits annoyed glances from others as traditionally we leave the washing up until the end so we can continue to play the next game.

Still we continue but to the soundtrack of the chinking of cups in the washing up bowl and the creaking of the cupboard as she puts away the china.

She reminds me of the over enthusiastic child in the playground who hovers on the edge of the group desperate to be included in the game.

The child who is slightly socially unaware, who's enthusiasm means that they don't listen to the rules of the game.  Who's excitement means that their hands are always slightly clammy and no one wants to hold them.  The child who is so full of wanting and needing to be a part of things but who is never fully accepted although they don't know why.

The one who stands sadly in the playground when Birthday party invitations are handed out, hopeful and yet with little hope that an envelope will be pressed into their hand.

Maybe is she IS unaware of all this but I don't think so. She is an intelligent woman and I think she does know that for some reason she doesn't quite fit.

There is always that brief moment where eyes are slightly rolled and glances are exchanged when she appears and it makes me sad for her because she is a good person and she gets involved and she cares.

As a child no doubt I would have followed the crowd - better to be in it than standing on the outside ...

But now ... Well, now I don't care so much.

I like her tenacity, I like her good heart, I like the person she is.

These ARE only MY observations, I can't account for their accuracy.  Maybe I'm wrong ...

Shaftsbury - Top O' The (Golden) Hill

Saturday meant an early start for SD and I.

SD is known as much for his dislike of early mornings as he is for his low boredom threshold and this weekend the two were in conflict.

SD had grown tired of his beach buggy during the Summer mainly due to the fact that there was very little he could do to it.  The buggy had been built to very specific specifications and used as a drag racer.  This meant that without making some fairly major changes it isn't great for road use (crashy on the front and a tiny 3 gallon tank amongst other things).

I've got to say that apart from the fact that it was a very pretty buggy it didn't really do it for me either what with the very narrow racing seats that I slightly over spilled and the fact that SD removed the windscreen so we arrived everywhere with a light pebble dashing of bugs!

Anyway, he put it up for sale and a nice man from France expressed an interest.

Given that he was travelling such a distance to collect it SD arranged to meet him at Willoughby Hedge services in Wiltshire about an hours drive for us and part way from Portsmouth where the ferry docked for him at 9am. .

We left to pick up the buggy from the farm just after 7am which gave me no time  at all to shower or wash my hair let alone think about what to wear or put on any makeup!

'But what if he's some suave, sophisticated, gorgeous Frenchman' I wailed.

'I think he's probably slightly more interested in the buggy than you' SD pointed out ...

(Fortunately he was more the sort of short, slightly plump type of Frenchman although very charming and with a fist full of fifty pound notes ...).

The deed was done - the deal struck and by 10:30 after freezing the brass balls off the Frenchman by taking a blast up the duel carriageway on a cold October morning we were done and had the rest of the day to ourselves.

A quick glance at a map had us considering our options and we settled on a trip to Shaftsbury.

It was my first visit to Shaftsbury but I'm sure it wont be my last.

What a lovely place steeped in history!

The “Shaston” of Thomas Hardy’s novels, Shaftesbury is one of the oldest and highest towns in England and dominates what Hardy called the “engirdled and secluded” Blackmore Vale.

Our first stop was the Ridings Cafe and Artisan Bakery set slightly below the height of the pavement we stepped down into a low beamed, olive green room filled with the scent of baking bread and hot coffee.

My eyes were drawn to the tempting selection of cakes and pastries.

'Would you like some cake?' asked SD.

Would I?  WOULD I???

The only confusing thing about that question was the superfluous question mark - of COURSE I wanted cake!!!

I eventually settled on a piece of pear cake scattered with dark chocolate drops.

Delicious!

The proprietor was an extraordinary man and one that I'm not sure was entirely suited to running a business that meant he had to interact with the public.

He had a slightly surly attitude and I watched as he scrapped the burnt bits off a slice of beautiful oat crusted bread that he had 'toasted' for one customer before proceeding to burn a teacake for another.

Once my appetite was sated we went for a wander around the town calling in at various charity shops where I bought myself a pretty galvanised  jug for a couple of pounds:

We passed by the town hall where there was a craft fair in progress:

Inside was an Aladdin's cave of china, glass, furniture and knick knacks and I bought Miss Mac a lovely skeleton badge of a fish in brushed copper for her rucksack collection of badges as well as some postcards of famous (and some not so famous) works of art:

At the back of the town hall I glanced out of the window:

And there in all it's glory was Golden Hill.

Golden Hill is an incredibly steep picturesque cobbled street and the view looking from the top has been described as one of the most romantic in England.

The image of this view appears on the covers of many books about Dorset and rural England, as well as on countless chocolate boxes and calendars.

Gold Hill has also been used as a setting for film and television. It appears in the 1967 film version of Thomas Hardy's Far From The Madding Crowd. The street is also the setting for the 1973 "Boy on Bike" television advert for Hovis bread directed by Ridley Scott and voted Britain's favourite advertisement of all time.

Despite the early start/no makeup/hair could do with a brush/possibly still wearing my PJ's look I was sporting of COURSE I had to have my photo taken on the hill!

It has such a timeless genteel feel to it (but no, I didn't walk to the bottom and up again!).

Of course because I was with SD we found a small car show going on too!

Seriously, they seem to happen wherever we go, it's like he's drawn to them through some kind of capillary action or something.

While SD looked at the cars I looked at the view and what a STUNNING view it was:

This photo really doesn't do it justice.  It was a slightly hazy day but on a clear day you can see  right across the Blackmore Vale which is  part of the River Stour basin as far as Glastonbury Tor to the northwest.

Oh, and if you fancy a spot of lunch then why not try here - at least your dining companions won't be making too much noise ...

 

I absolutely loved Shaftsbury and had such a lovely day there.  If you're ever in the area then don't miss the chance to visit.

The Saintliness of Surfer Dude

Sometimes I could be accused of not appreciating SD fully.  I guess I just get used to him being so good, and to be honest, it's more fun teasing him about his obsession with lists and being organised and stuff.

But I DO appreciate him and sometimes something happens to make me realise just how fortunate I am!

He's been great with my recent health issues all of which seem to be more or less under control these days.  Well, as far as we can tell anyway with not yet having had some of the results back from the hospital since the middle of July ...  But I'm seeing that as a GOOD thing.  I'm guessing they would probably have been in touch had there been anything to seriously worry about ...

Anyway, like I said, he's been very supportive and concerned and caring.  Sometimes a little overzealous  in my opinion but I put that down to more me being not a very good patient and preferring to ignore health issues and just get on with it.

But that's not the only way that he is good.

On Wednesday Miss Mac and friend set off on the train to Cardiff to see Fall out Boy in concert (I know, I've got NO idea who they are either ...).  They got the train early as apparently standing in a queue for 5 hours is all part of the experience and a great way to make friends.

The train home was just after 10:30pm which would mean leaving the concert a little early and possibly missing the encore. 

At about 10:40pm I got a phone call from Miss Mac, she was very upset.  They had got to the train station with a couple of minutes to spare.  The train was on the platform but the doors were closed.

They approached a member of staff who said that the doors couldn't be re-opened due to health and safety reasons and the train left without them!

The next train to Bristol where they were due to change for Taunton was just before 11:30.  The only problem was that there WAS no connection to Taunton from Bristol until 5:30am the following morning.

Miss Mac and friend were distraught.  They had very little money between them, it had been a long day, it was cold on the now deserted station and there was NO offer of help.

I'm disgusted with the train company, there was NO excuse for shutting the doors early.  I don't know what the health and safety issues are with re-opening them but I DO know there are very real health and safety issues with leaving two 16 year old girls stranded 100 miles from home with no money and I fully intend to take that up with them.

I told Miss Mac to get on the next train to Bristol where at least they would be going to a busy station with heated waiting rooms and I called SD.

He had already had a hell of a day leaving home just after 8am and not getting in until after 10:30 but he didn't hesitate.

'Get yourself ready, call Miss Mac and tell her we will be there to meet the train' he said without any recriminations, no sign of frustration that her plans failing meant that he now had another hour or so's driving each way at the end of a very long day, nothing but concern for her safety and well being.

I couldn't help but reflect on the difference between SD and Ex Lax (my ex, Miss Mac's father) who would never have taken the news so well.  Who rarely puts himself out for his children even to the point where he didn't see Miss Mac looking so beautiful in her Prom dress in the summer because he was too busy getting drunk with his friends at Butlins 20 minutes from the venue (despite saying that he wouldn't be able to get there in time because of work - you don't want to get caught out in lies then don't post it all over FB ... just saying ...).

So yes, SD is practically a saint in my eyes.  We didn't get back until after 2am, he'd been on the go for 18 hours and he had to be up in 5 hours to do it all again and STILL he wasn't complaining.

SD doesn't have children of his own, a combination of choice and circumstance.  I did expect him to accept the fact that I do as part of our relationship but he goes far beyond anything that I could have hoped for.  Sure he finds Miss Mac frustrating at times.  He thinks I do too much for her (I do ...).  He thinks she is often lazy and always untidy (she is ...) but he has assumed a sense of responsibility which he takes very seriously and I couldn't wish for someone better as a role model.

I jokingly refer to SD as saintly but the truth is he's a bit of a star as far as I'm concerned.

The Dangers Of Shopping (with me ...)

I went skating today.

Actually, I didn't really go skating.  I met Miss Mac as she had a free period at college and she wanted to go into town to buy Lady Windermere's Fan which she needs for English Literature.

We went to Waterstones to pick it up as she'd pre-ordered it and they had text her to say it was in.  The first thing I noticed when we entered the shop was the faint whiff of burning.  'It's ok' said the assistant, 'the lights just blew up in the stock room but I don't think there's any actual fire or anything ...'

Phew, for a minute there I was worried what with this being a BOOK shop an' all and books being prone to being flammable!

'I've come in to collect a book I ....'  Miss Mac paused looking blank and searching for the right word ...

'Ordered?' I said helpfully ...

'Yeah, that's it, I forgot what it was called' she said.

I'm so glad she chose English Lit as one of her A'levels ...

Anyway, after, Miss Mac said she was hungry and wanted to go to MacDonalds for something to eat until she remembered that a) she had apparently decided just that morning to cut out junk food and b) she had left the MacDonald vouchers that were pushed through our door at home and she didn't want to pay full price when she could have got a Big Mac and fries for £1:99 so we went to KFC instead.

As soon as I walked through the door I realised they had had a refit since my last visit.  Everything looked great in cool shaded of grey, very clean, very shiny and VERY bloody slippery.

I skidded right up to the counter surprising both myself and the girl behind it with the speed that I traversed the 15ft or so between her and the door and hit it with a thud shortly followed by Miss Mac who cannoned into the back of me.

Seriously, they spend god knows how much doing a place up and it doesn't cross their minds to check that the flooring doesn't turn into an ice rink when it gets wet???

I held onto Miss Mac's mega box as she pushed me from behind and we gracefully slid to a table.

Afterwards Miss Mac went back to college and I decided to indulge in a little retail therapy.

I'd come to the conclusion over the weekend that I don't own enough pairs of boots.  To be honest, I haven't actually counted HOW many pairs of boots I have right now (about 15 sounds right) but I DO know that I need another pair ...

I spent a little time looking round a couple of shoe shops not really finding anything that took my fancy and then wandered into Jones the Bootmakers  where I spotted a pair that only bear a passing resemblance to a couple of other pairs I own so they were practically unique!

As I sat down to try them on a couple of other girls came over and started discussing and trying on the shoes they had picked up.

'What do YOU think' asked one.

I looked over, considered carefully and gave my honest opinion ...

'Well,' I said, 'I'm not a HUGE fan of quilted boots with metal spikes but to be honest ANYTHING is better than those truly disgusting slip on pump things with a fake gold band around the toe - those things should just be banned and I'm begging you not to even CONSIDER buying them - just put them back and we'll say no more about it!'

'Actually' she said - 'THOSE are my OWN shoes and I'd just taken them off to try these on AND I WASN'T EVEN TALKING TO YOU I WAS TALKING TO MY FRIEND!!!!'