Wednesday 31 August 2011

I Declare Tomorrow

A Fuckit Day.

Any of my Facebook friends that read this may have come across my Fuckit days before.

Basically, if it doesn't  taste nice, smell good or make me smile then fuckit, I'm not interested!

It's a bonus if something (or someone) ticks all those boxes, doesn't happen often. But, as long as at least one is ticked then I'm happy.

I use fuckit days sparingly, overuse would just diminish them but I think I'm due one.

Feel free to join me :-)

Tuesday 30 August 2011

The Bangle - the final chapter of the first book

Write On Wednesdays

The exercise today is to write a story from your life. And remember: it has to be 100% true, but it doesn't have to be 100% of the truth. There's a difference. The keywords are: The Fight

Hmm, and I thought the character analysis was hard!

I'd already decided that this chapter of Rock Chicks life was drawing to a close.  There is only so much wallowing and angst people can cope with before they start to get bored with it and start to forget that she is multifaceted.

If you've been following the story of Rock Chick you will know it's based on me.  A mixture of fact and fiction (the ratio of fact weighing rather higher than the fiction).

I would have, in some ways, loved to make this final part of the story pure fiction.  Allowed Rock Chick to go out with a bang (metaphorically speaking of course ......... although ... ;).  A vlog was suggested, now THAT could have been fun!

I've written the post in the style of fiction but it is 100% true.  I touched on this particular evening in an earlier post and the events, thoughts and feelings happened exactly the way described below (although it may not be 100% of the truth):


Crouching down on the damp sand, shielding the flame from the breeze blowing in from the sea she carefully lit the wick.  Gradually the flame took hold, burning brightly, filling the sky lantern with hot air.

Standing up slowly she held the metal ring at the bottom, watching it take shape, tugging at her hands, wanting to be set free.

‘Don’t forget to make a wish’.

She smiled. Wishing on the first star, a full moon, the soft puff of thistledown they used to call fairies as children.  One had drifted right into her hand as she walked along the canal.  If you caught one in flight and whispered your dreams before setting it free they would come true…………..

 But dreams are meant to be shared.

It was time to stop the daily fight of emotions. To stop the painful analysis.  To acknowledge that there were things she would never understand and that in trying to do so she was just hurting herself afresh every day.
She allowed the lantern to float away taking her wish with it high above the water. Watching as it got smaller and smaller until, like the closing of an eye, the tiny glow of light disappeared into the inky blackness.

Standing alone in the darkness she felt a mixture of emotions.  Sadness, regret, fear, loneliness. But at the same time there was relief, hope and a new respect for herself.
The sky was suddenly lit up with a multitude of coloured lights from the laser show on the pier.  They shimmered in the moist air, her very own aurora borealis dancing in the sky.
She turned away from the darkness and began walking, slowly at first, and then with more confidence towards the bright lights.

Towards the future.

Monday 29 August 2011

August Bank Holiday

And the Mac's had been invited to lunch so I offered to make the pudding:

Blackberries picked this morning, perfect with Bramley apples.

It's just got to be crumble!

Good enough to eat as it is.

But even better like this

Cooked and ready to go

Master Mac likes it best BEFORE it's cooked

A walk before dinner

Typical happy teenager :)

Big D knew a shortcut - through someones garden!!!

Over someones fence!!!

Making our escape down their drive :))

In time for the crumble

Which was bloody delicious!

Friday 26 August 2011

Confessions of a Drama Queen

Things I have learned this week:

1.  Mushrooms are really absorbent.

2.  Sugar soap, sounds better than it tastes.

(Sugar soap also smells of wee and if you use to wash down a ceiling and it drips on you, you may run the risk of also smell of wee.)

3.  I have a very short memory sometimes.

3a.  Stripes are hard to paint in the bathroom

3b.  Harder on the shed.

3c.  And really bloody hard on the stairs!

4.  Weston-Super-Mare has a certain glamour at night (sadly lacking during the day) and letting off sky laterns on a dark deserted beach is a pretty special way to spend an evening.

5.  Life is sometimes like a rainbow.  Beautiful while it lasts.  Enjoy the rainbow then let it go.

6.  I don't particularly miss Facebook but I HAVE missed my blog :-)

Monday 22 August 2011

Memory Lane

Write On Wednesdays

Write On Wednesdays Exercise 11 - Take a Walk"Come back home and write what you encountered. Try to write so that your sentences feel the way the walking felt." Let's toss the 5 minute sprint aside this week and instead take a lingering stroll through our exercise. Participants are encouraged to write a first draft (the point being to get it out on the page), then to go through and edit their piece before posting. We're aiming to get from one place to another, taking the reader with us - economically, gracefully, elegantly. 

Lying back on the bed, eyes closed her hands linked across her stomach the pictures drifted through her mind.

It was an indulgence she didn’t allow herself often.  A leisurely walk through happier times.  A slide show of moments, thoughts and feelings.  Gone but captured for ever in her very fibre.


That first look…..  is it you?  That first, tentative smile. That awkward moment ….. do we kiss? Do we hug?

I KNOW you, yet we've never met before.


The first laugh. The first REAL smile.  The first brief touch of a hand on an arm.


The first kiss.

The rest of the world disappeared……..

It IS you ....


The first real touch.  Skin on skin ...  Burning …  searing …  branding …  owning.

Click… Click... Click …...........

The profile, tears that never fell captured in the light from the street. Head softly shaking …..  No.


The last touch. Foreheads pressed tightly together.  Eyes downcast. No words.

Tears seeped from beneath her lashes unchecked. Sliding down her face into her hair.

Her dreams had taken a different path leaving her standing alone. Her future as yet unknown lay around the next corner.

Friday 19 August 2011


I'm taking a cyber break.  Not forever, maybe not for long but for now.

I might make the exception and pop back for WoW but  if not I'll be back soon.

I think I need a little time to ................  :) you know, I'm not sure WHAT I need it for, I just feel I do.

I don't feel I have a great deal to write about just now and writing for the sake of it isn't really doing anyone any favours.

I need a break from Facebook.  I'm finding it a little irritating at the moment.  That's no reflection on my Facebook friends and most of them can find me by other means anyway should they want to.

I'm going to take this time to do things for me. I'm sure I'll be telling you all about it pretty soon.

Having said all that.  If I'm back in a couple of days, feel free to call me a Drama Queen, I'm damn sure I will :)

Sarah x

Tuesday 16 August 2011

Style ..........

Over the last couple of days Maxabella has blogged about ‘keeping it real’.

About the images portrayed through blogs, through the media, through magazines ect.

The question is, how much of yourself do you want to reveal? 

I started my blog in March of this year.  It was designed to give people a bit of a giggle.  Real life stories about the silly, crazy ‘stuff’ that I do or that happens to me.  A bit of fun.

My blog changed at the end of June.  Some of you might have noticed.

The reason?  Well, when I started it I was happy. I knew (or thought I knew) the direction my life was going in.  I had something I didn’t even know I’d been missing.

I felt guilty when my blog took a downward spiral.  I felt like I wasn’t giving people what they signed up for.  I think I pretty much said so at the time and the response I got was great.

People don’t want fluff all the time.  People want to know a little bit about the person behind the fluff

I recapture the fluff from time to time but it's mixed now with more serious posts and of course my writing for WoW..

But it still leaves us with the question of how much is too much?

I’ve written one post that I didn’t publish.  I’m glad I didn’t, I made the right decision.

I’ve also talked about FB a couple of times.  I rarely put anything on there that isn’t designed to at least hopefully raise a smile.

Last night I posted:  

sometimes there is no reward or challenge ……….. just adversity

It was a bastardised version of something someone said relating to me a while ago.  I turned it around, changed it, made it my own.  My version actually ended up with the opposite meaning to the original statement.

It wasn’t designed to raise a smile.  I was a reflection on how I was feeling.  Being faced with adversity and struggling to see the solutions.

Knowing how much I hate the ‘leading status update’ why did I do it?

I don’t know.  Thinking out loud, looking for answers, a cry for help?  Yes, no, maybe …….

A small part of me was tempted to publish some photos which would have gone a long way to explaining everything.  A small part of me is tempted to post them here.  But I haven’t and I doubt I will.  Sorry, enigmatic again I know which if I were you I’d be really pissed off about but  now isn’t the right time, maybe sometime will be, I don’t know.

I was smiling by the end of the evening though.  I didn’t explain what had prompted the FB status but the advice I got was maybe exactly what I needed.

So, if in the next photo you see of me I am wearing studded marigolds with fuck you tattooed across my knuckles just know, it’s because I have ……….


Guilty Pleasures

I haven't taken part in Kate's  listography for far too long but how could I resists Guilty Pleasures ...........

1. Martin Clunes

I know, wrong, wrong, wrong on sooo many levels.  He is frankly odd looking with big ears but there's something about him that just makes me want to climb into his lap and curl up!

2. Full fat milk

Nothing quite like it in coffee.  Who cares about the extra calories ............ not me!

3. Pole Dancing

Ok, technically it isn't. It's just me dancing. But, apparently, is has a certain pole-esquesness element when I do it and I loooove to dance!

4. Draft Text Messages

All those things I'd like to say but fortunately don't.  Why shouldn't I still have the pleasure of writing the text though (nb NOT a good idea to do whilst actually drunk as sending it becomes a high possibility!)

5. Perfume

 Going into Boots and liberally spraying myself with my favorite perfume because it's free and just because I can.

Monday 15 August 2011

The message

Write On Wednesdays

A state of vexation caused by a perceived slight or indignity; a feeling of wounded pride.tr.v. piqued, piqu·ing, piques
1. To cause to feel resentment or indignation.
2. To provoke; arouse: The portrait piqued her curiosity.
3. To pride (oneself): He piqued himself on his stylish attire.

‘Do you still want me to come over?’

She hit send and rested the phone back on the table.  As she stood up the phone bleeped.

‘I want you forever .....’

Sinking back onto the chair she stared at the phone.  It was out in the open now.  The words had been said.

She closed the message replacing it with the ever moving galaxy of stars that formed the screensaver.

After hesitating for a moment she reopened the messages. ‘I want you forever’. It was still there, somehow she had hoped it would be gone, the sentence left unsaid.

'Damnit!' she exclaimed in frustration, 'I don't need this right now'.   

But its not just about what YOU need she whispered, angry with herself, knowing this had been waiting to happen, all the while hoping that if she ignored it then it would just go away leaving her without the weight of responsibility his feelings brought. 

She felt piqued, it was almost as if he had done this deliberately. Forcing her to confront things when all she felt able to cope with right now were her own feelings.

Selfish, selfish, selfish, the word echoed around her mind obliterating everything else.

'Enough'!  'This is not me, this is not what I do, this is NOT what I’m about'.

She picked up the phone once more.  Fingers trembling slightly she typed,

‘I’ll see you at 10.’

Friday 12 August 2011

Back on Track

Yesterday I burnt my boobs.

Today I accidently dyed my hair purple and managed to get the buckles (on my frankly fab boots) somehow locked together as I sat in a resturant with my legs crossed.  I stood up and nearly fell flat on my face much to the amusement of my friend.

And in response to a text I sent my cockling friend about 3 hours ago I have just had the reply, 'What, us in rube ...... I will live it up to you lol ............


Yep, normal service has been resumed ..........   About time too!

Tuesday 9 August 2011

Umm - call it whatever you like .......

I read a post this morning by one of my favorite bloggers.

It was an analysis of his own character.  It was completely open. He listed all his annoying traits.  He understands himself and the affect he has on others pretty well.  It wasn’t an apology for the person he is, just an honest account.

Having just written a character analysis for WoW I found it fascinating.  It made me realise how much I’d left out or maybe how much I hadn’t had the courage to include.

I didn’t write about the constant conversations I have in my head (and yes, for those of you who don’t already know, Rock Chick is based on me).

I’d love to clear my head sometimes.  I over analyse almost everything.  I go through different scenarios.  I sometimes write things in my blog or on FB and then worry about how different people will interpret it.

Will they read things into it that I didn’t intend?  Will they see things that I thought I’d hidden?  Will they see themselves without me having to mention them by name? Do I write everything for a reason (maybe subconsciously)?  Do other people do the same?

It’s bloody exhausting sometimes but it’s what I do.

I’ve written about FB updates in the past.  I do think a lot of them are written for the reactions they hope to get.  The leading status update is the one that always gets me, a tiny snippit of something just waiting for a reaction.  I don’t think I’m too guilty of that, I hope not.  I ALWAYS ignore them, they piss me off!

Lately it’s been the spammy posts that have pissed me off.  No, I don’t want to copy and paste someone else’s badly written, grammatically incorrect twaddle (thank you Lou  for reminding me of that great word).  It’s not that I always disagree with the content but I prefer to keep FB personal which means I’ll write my OWN twaddle thank you very much!

I’d love to be open and honest all the time. To just be ME but much of the time I find can’t be. I’m too afraid of the consequences.

If you're lucky you find someone that you can be like that with ...........

This is another one of those posts that I’m not sure where it’s going.  I’m not thinking, I’m not analysing, it’s just my thought process being regurgitated onto the keyboard……….

And yet I'm STILL holding back ... hmmm

I’m off down to the shed to have a good scream :) 

Monday 8 August 2011

WoW - Character Analysis

Write On Wednesdays

When saw that this week’s exercise was a character analysis it should have been
perfect really. I have an on-going story with one main character and two, that so
far, are only really alluded to.

I could expand on Rock Chick, tell you who she is and what makes her the person
she is. Or, I could choose one of the other characters and explain where they
come in, who they are and why they are so important to her.

Here’s the difficult bit. All the characters are based on real people.

How do you do a character analysis on a real live person? It seems a little
arrogant. The potential is to make assumptions based on your own perceptions.
On the way you feel about that person and maybe to even project your own
feelings onto that person which may give a completely false picture of them.

So I’m a little stuck. There are things I know I know, things I wish I knew and
things that I may never know about all three of these people.

I do know that there are some traits that they all share.

All of them project an image to the outside world that covers their insecurities. All
of them appear confident and outgoing (at least to an extent). All of them are
probably considered a success as people. I don’t think any of them are as happy
as they could be.

And you see, this is where I stray onto dangerous territory, I’m already making
assumptions. I’m projecting. Only they know how they truly feel, or maybe they
don’t, I don’t know.

The person I know best is Rock Chick.

From an early age she’s attracted the attention of men. She hasn’t set out to,
some of the time she’s felt uncomfortable with it. As she’s got older she’s learnt
to live with it.

She’s never really seen what others claim to see, has always believed it’s a bit of
an illusion which of course it is. Mostly all they see the packaging, many don’t see or have
any interest in what’s inside.

The story tells her personal journey but she has other people around her.  Her children, her family and her friends.  She isn’t alone but, at times, she feels very lonely.

She knows she is loved and she loves them.  For them she is determined to overcome her own unhappiness and move on, to find another way in the hope and belief that in doing this the emptiness she carries around will gradually lessen and she will truly be happy again.

Only a few are aware of her true feelings, she hides it well.  She lives her life.  She laughs, she jokes she bakes cakes, she gets on with things.

Right now she has choices she needs to make.  Some are easy.  She wants a better life for herself and her family, she knows this means physically  and emotionally moving on.  She isn’t sorry to do this, it’s been on her mind for quite some time.  She is undecided at the moment about where she will take them.  She has options.  From a simple move to a larger city with more opportunities to a life changing move abroad.

She also has the option to stay.  In the background of the story is a man she cares for very much.  He loves her, without question, without doubt, he wants to be her happiness.

She can’t take that option, she wishes she could but you can’t build your happiness on someone else’s dream.  She cares about him too much to compromise, she knows, however hard he tries, he can’t make the emptiness go away.

She knows how easy it is to fall into the darkness, she’s been there before. She never intends to go back.  This is what makes her fight, it gives her strength.

The only thing she can’t control are her dreams and her nightmares.  They haunt her.  She cherishes her dream, it’s always the same but it’s just a dream.

The nightmare is more honest.  She wakes from it in the early hours, tears fresh on her face, over and over.

She looks forward to a time where the dream and the nightmare are a distant memory.

This isn’t a full character analysis, it’s just the things I know I know.  The rest is subjective, different people will see different things in her character.  I don’t want to label her, she is something different to each person she knows.  A mother, a friend, a lover……….


This is just a very short post that I wanted to link to Gemmas at My Big Nutshell

On September 15 there is a national day of action called R U OK? Day. The purpose is to prevent suicide by encouraging Australians to connect with someone they care about and help stop little problems turning into big ones.

Now I don't live in Australia but that doesnt necessarily mean I cant support this cause and take part in my own small way.

It' also not just about helping to prevent suicide but about touching base with the people you care about, asking someone how they are and actually listening to the answer.

Gemma believes in life and happiness and this is a cause very close to her heart.

If you have a few minutes, pop over and take a look and maybe join in on September 15.

Friday 5 August 2011

Frogs, Slugs and Four Letter Words

MUUUM, Bear’s brought in another frog ……

This is becoming a recurring theme in our house.  The night before it had been a frog and a GIANT spider.  He did at least eat the spider, well, all but one leg which he left on the kitchen floor, perhaps he was all spidered out.

Into the kitchen I went all ready to scoop up a frog that was playing dead and deposit it back in the garden.

There on the kitchen floor was HALF a fucking frog!!! Oh, and for good measure, by the back door, the biggest bastard slug I’ve ever seen.  I swear to god it must have been 4” long and an inch wide (sorry, can’t think in metric when I’m traumatised!!)

This was a job for a man and luckily Big D doesn’t move out until tomorrow……..

‘Can you get rid of the frog and the slug’ I asked.  ‘No’. ‘Pleeeease’. ‘No’. ‘Pleeeeeease’……..  I’ll take a look he said with a long suffering sigh.

Into the kitchen he went.  

‘HOLY SHIT’, you didn’t tell me it was HALF a fucking  frog!!!  ‘I’ll take the slug, YOU deal with the frog’ he said.  ‘Where’s the slug?’

‘By the back door’ I whimpered.

‘FUCK ME’ he yelled as he caught sight of the motherf*cker, ‘I’m not touching THAT, I’ll take the frog’.

Having disposed of the froggy remains in the bin (IN MY BIN!!!) he couldn’t be persuaded to get rid of that bloody slug.

‘I’ve dealt with the frog’ he said but you might want to clean up the frog juice on the kitchen floor.  By this time I was ready to puke, frog juice!!!  Ewwww, and there was still that slug just waiting to ooze a trail across my kitchen floor and into my dining room.

Luckily, Miss Mac alerted by all the yelling and bad language, came down to see what was afoot and offered to dispose of the slug (I love that girl!!!).

I managed to stop her flipping it out of the door with the fish slice and handed her an old paintbrush from the drawer.  ‘What do you want me to do with it Mum’ she asked when she had managed to slide the brush under it with the damned thing dangling about 6” either side.

‘Stop waving the effing thing around and throw it as far as you can, preferably into next doors effing garden ………….. please sweetheart’......... 

Hmmm, I do feel obliged to say that I really don't approve of using bad language around children and nor does Big D but these WERE exceptional circumstances.  Miss Mac is now playing Top Trumps with the dog in her bedroom (Gus is winning) and she seems unaffected by the whole episode.

Rewinding with Diminishing Lucy

Thursday 4 August 2011

All Change

I read a post a couple of weeks by Lou at Waiting to Emigrate  It was called ‘Who Am I’.

I remember thinking  how brave and honest it was and wondering if I’d have the balls to do the same.

Hmmm, maybe not just yet.  I’ve shared quite a lot through my blog. The silly, ridiculous situations I get myself into sometimes.  Parts of my childhood.  A little of my heartache and part of the way things are right now with an element of fiction through my posts for WoW.

But who am I right now?

I’m a bit of a contradiction really.  I’m a mother of three, one grown up son about to start a life of his own.  Big D moves out tomorrow and into his new life with the lovely L.  I think it might be one of those forever relationships, I hope so, they really are just perfect together.

Master Mac and Miss Mac are growing up so fast.  It only seems a moment ago that I was the focus of their world.  I know they still need me but I wonder sometimes if I need them more?

And so, it’s time for change.

In the early years of parenting it’s easy to forget that our job is to partly prepare our children to move on, to become independent, to live their own lives.  We can’t see that there will ever be a time when being a parent won’t be the sole focus of our lives. The thing everything revolves around.

It’s starting to happen here in the Mac household and to be honest, it’s scares the crap out of me.  What the hell do I do now???  Selfish huh?

So, I’ve decided it’s time to take action.  I’ve loved living here mostly, it’s a safe place to bring up children.  My friends are here, I know where everything is.

But, it’s not enough anymore.

I feel like the grasshopper who sang all Summer. What happens when the Winter comes and I have nothing stored up?  What happens when my main identity isn’t Mum anymore?  I’m not sure where that leaves me.

I need to do something for me.  I need to learn not to invest myself and my happiness completely in other people.  Not my children, not my friends, not a partner.  My children need to feel free to live their lives knowing that I have mine.  The same with my friends really, I am not their responsibility although I know many of them would do anything for me as I would for them. A partner?  Well, I’ve had my fingers burnt a little in the past (says the mistress of the understatement .....  still smouldering here :).

I don’t rule out there being someone in my life in the future but, although I may love unwisely at times, I don’t do it too well or too easily so I’m not thinking anytime soon.

So I’m moving on.  Oh, if ONLY it were that simple!  If only it wasn’t dependent on a million and one other things and people.  If only I could pack up and leave the key under the mat.

It’s going to happen but don’t go holding your breath ok?  I’m doing this properly, for the right reasons and it won’t happen overnight however much I may wish it would.

I don’t know where I’m going to land but I hope the sun’s shining.

Monday 1 August 2011

Stands The Church Clock at Ten to Three

Write On Wednesdays

Write On Wednesdays Exercise 8 - The clock winked...Write the words "The clock winked" at the top of your page. Set a timer for 5 minutes. Write the first words that come into your head after the prompt. Stop when the buzzer rings. Do this exercise over and over if you wish. Write beyond 5 minutes if you like, you can link it up as an extra post.

The clock winked, the red light mocking her.  Awake again it said, alone again ….

Suddenly she had had enough of that damned clock, grabbing it with both hands she wrenched it from the wall, the leads, snapping off at the plug, whipped around and slapped her across the face.

With all her force she threw the clock across the room.

It hit the mirror on the chimney breast on the far side of the room with a satisfying crash fracturing the glass into a hundred pieces.

Her heart was pounding and she could hear the blood rushing through her veins.

In the dim light she could see herself reflected over and over in the broken mirror.

How long she wondered, how long does this go on?  Surely there would come a time when it stopped?

The dream and the nightmare had become entwined in her sleep.  Some of the images sharply in focus, others faded like an old sepia photograph.

She could see the bowl clearly in her mind, the delicate blue of the design on porcelain so fine that the light shone through it.  The tiny chip on the base, the fine crack that ran along the rim.

The things that made it all the more precious to her, the reason he had rejected it.

The old man sitting in the corner, cloth in hand, rubbing the tarnished lamp base, seeing the beauty  emerge from the layers grime,  giving it new life.

Watching him walk towards her she felt a chill on her body and, glancing down, she saw she was naked.  Looking straight ahead, eyes glazed, he walked straight through her, the shock took her breath away.

She felt his hand in hers, his thumb gently stroking the palm of her hand, tightening briefly.

His face above hers, looking deep into her eyes in that moment before he bent to kiss her.

Laughing, ALWAYS laughing, tears streaming down her face, washing the makeup away, leaving her aching, exhausted, so very happy.

Amongst the shattered remains of plastic and glass the red light, fuelled by the back up battery, continued to wink. The screen a series of zeros.

Awake again it said, alone again.

Maybe Rizzo got it Right ........

“Do you know when someone has ‘that thing’ and you can fill it ….”

Well no frankly my cockling friend I don’t ……………

But it got me thinking, do we always say what we mean and more to the point, do we mean what we say?
When I assumed a horrified face and apologised profusely because Gus has just peed on the head of the Yorkshire terrier sniffing his nether regions I lied.  Personally I thought he got what he deserved  delving around there and no, it wasn’t really the first time Gus had peed on another dogs head either.

Yesterday I fell out of my bra, please tell me I’m not the only person that’s happened to???  I was walking through town, it was a hot day so I was just wearing a skimpy vest top and my phone rang.  As I pulled it out of my bag my purse fell out too.  I bent over to pick it up and just literally fell out of the damn thing.

Have you ever thought about modelling?  Well, although in my younger years I was asked that quite a lot I haven’t been asked for a while now and the answer is no, not really.  I did pose for a sculptor once who produced the most beautiful carving of a mermaid, I couldn’t believe it was really me.  Sadly the photos I had seemed to have disappeared over the years.  I’m still pondering that question though after being approached by a buyer from one of labels in a department store.  I don’t think so, if I’d been going to do that I think I might have done it all those years ago.

The children’s school reports thumped through the letter box this week along with huge quantities of forms to fill out, I only hope to god I don’t lose the lot by the end of the 6 weeks holiday!

I’m so proud of my children. It’s been a little tough the last couple of years and yet their reports are pretty damned good.  Ok, Master Mac could try harder in a couple of subjects and Miss Mac may sometimes be a little distracted by interesting gossip during lessons but overall they were great. Doing well, achieving at least the level expected or better, no complaints from me there!

Big D’s PE teacher once remarked that he was an endless source of amusement with his inventive excuses to get out of any kind of physical activity.

Did you know that if you have a problem with an O2 phone you get to see a Guru?  I was a little disappointed at the lack of a long flowing beard, strings of beads and the realisation he didn’t want to hold hands and chant over my phone.  He DID give me a box of chocolates though which I thought was pretty nice.  The phone's still knackered though despite the software update. I’m still getting endless messages telling me I’m out of credit and now the bloody thing wont synch with my email either, I wonder if I’ll get more chocolates if I go back?

I’ve been given a number of things by complete strangers over the years. A four leaf clover last year while I was sitting outside a cafĂ© in town enjoying a coffee in the sun. I also seem to have one of those faces that make people think I know where I’m going. Rarely a week passes without me being asked for directions. Mostly I haven’t got a clue but I work on the assumption that they are probably just passing through and I do hate to let people down. So far I’ve never seen anyone again and hopefully a few even got to where they wanted to go.

There are so many things floating around my head right now that I can’t seem to form them into coherent posts which is why I’ve taken to rambling.  Maybe it’s the lack of sleep.  Maybe it’s the general feeling of being unsettled. I keep having this fantasy of packing up, selling up and moving on. The question is where and why (although that may be TWO questions!).  I don’t know the answer to either.  Would it really be the worse thing I could do?