Friday 21 December 2012

Christmas Past (part one).

The dynamic of my Christmas has changed over the years.  This year different to last and last year different to the previous year ...

But there was a time where I remember the familiar fabric of this time of year, so well worn that it could have been the same comforter brought out time and time again wrapping me in a blanket of contentment and happiness.

My childhood wasn't perfect but there were times it was perfection and Christmas was always such a time.

Christmas began at the end of October when, in a steamy fug my Grandmother gathered together the ingredients for the Christmas cake, homemade mincemeat and the Christmas pudding.

Great bowlfuls of shiny dates, plump raisins and currents, oranges and lemons ready for zesting and squeezing.  Huge heavy based pans and long wooden spoons, walnuts to crack and glace cherries sticky and sweet ....

We each took a turn in stirring the pudding mix and making a wish, usually a hint whispered out loud as to what we would most like to find under the tree on Christmas morning.

Once cooked the cake was wrapped in greaseproof paper ready for feeding drip by drip from the large bottle of brandy.  The pudding swaddled in a muslin cloth and circles of waxed paper sealed the jars of mincemeat before their lids were given a jaunty bonnet of red and white checked cloth secured with an elastic band.

Everything carefully labelled with the date was then stored in the huge wardrobe built into the alcove next to the fireplace in the large bedroom at the front of the house where it sat glowing richly one the dark wooden shelves amongst the fruits of the summer which had been made into pickles and chutneys and jam.

I used to open the door occasionally just to wonder at the array of goodies lined up and breath in the scent of cinnamon and spices.  Sometimes it would seem like Christmas would never come ...

Thursday 20 December 2012

`Putting The Arse Into Class

I've often been told that I 'talk posh' - I don't know how true that is, I think my voice is fairly accent less, probably due to the fact that we travelled a lot during my younger years.

I've also been told that I'm elegant - as my friend C once remarked, 'you even get out of cars with your knees together for god's sake!'

Of course, anyone that knows me knows that it's all an illusion - I may 'talk the talk' and I may 'walk the walk' but there's no one more capable of making a complete arse of themselves than me!

Case in point!

Yesterday (before my lovely K had the chance to give me the kick I needed) I gave myself a kick up the backside.

I posted my cards and blitz my shopping (still a few to go) and then hit the clothes shops in search of a dress.

It's party season and although I have 3 or 4 party dresses I don't actually own a LBD.

I've already missed a couple of parties due to this bloody cold.  Last week I managed a paltry 2 hours at a party sipping lime and soda and snivelling into a tissue.

Well, I'm not missing out on any more!

I've a party to go to on Saturday night, another one on Christmas Eve - one between Christmas and New Year and one on New Years Eve so a new dress is justified I think ;).

Bloody hell, there are some truly horrible dresses out there right now!

I don't want an on the knee black velvet with stretchy lace sleeves thankyouverymuch!  I don't want sequin festooned chiffon and I don't want taffeta with so many layers I have to go through a bloody door sideways!

I want something a little quirky, a bit sexy, slightly slinky, totally frivolous with maybe a discrete touch of bling (sparkly shoulder straps perhaps?).

Hmmm ...

Can I also send out a plea to shops NOT to turn their heating up to tropical?  I know it's December (but actually, it's pretty mild for this time of year).  I'm fighting my way through the crowds with heavy bags, a shit load of stress and the remnants of a cold - I've got inbuilt fecking central heating thank you!

My coat was on and off like a pair of tarts knickers and overheated shops are entirely responsible for what happened next!

My last stop on the way home was Sport Direct for a pair of Goldigga boots for Miss Mac.

I'm not a fan of Sports Direct - they employ 2 dozen teenagers per shop - pay them minimum wage and teach them selective hearing, how to ignore customers (whilst carrying on conversations with each other) and cram in as many racks of clothes as possible so that getting through the shop is like a bloody obstacle course.

However, they DO sell Goldigga boots at an affordable price ...

In I marched and was hit in the face by this solid wall of heat.  Bags down, coat off and I Lambada'd through the racks of clothes to the escalator.

Upstairs was even hotter, I half expected to see a spider monkey or parrot perched on a light fitting!

And then I started feeling a little peculiar ....

Somebody had turned the heat up another notch and sucked all the air out of the shop ...  I needed to get out of there!

But it was too late ....

I'm not sure how I managed to find a six foot long space to go down like a sack of spuds in without impaling myself on a rack of Lycra, just lucky I guess.

Who would have known that was the best way to get service in Sports Direct???

I woke up to half a dozen teenagers crowded around me wondering what the hell to do.

'She needs to see someone' - It's ok, I can see lots of people already thanks ...

'Shall I call her an ambulance?' - You could, but actually my name's Sarah (very bad cracker joke, sorry ;).

Then I realised they WERE actually about to call an ambulance - bloody hell, yoof of today, don't they recognise a faint when they see one?

Like I said, if you need service in a shop can I recommend fainting?

I've still got some shopping to do and I still haven't found that elusive dress but I DID get Miss Macs boots and I didn't have to queue for them - I'd call that a result wouldn't you? ;)

Friday 14 December 2012

Salt Dough Gifts

Linking up with Anne at Domesblissity for Thriving Thursday.

My Daughter who is 13 had been agonising over gifts for her friends.

Not being in a position to spend lots of money and also not wanting her to feel her gifts were inferior in anyway I suggested we have a go at making something personal for each of them.

Salt dough is so easy to make and I had everything to hand.  All you need is:

Equal parts plain flour and salt (say a cup of each) and half that amount of water.  I add a little (approx tsp) of vegetable oil to make it more pliable.

Mix it all together and then kneed.  You really need to kneed it for at least 5 minutes, but the longer the better.

Roll it out and use cookie cutters to stamp shapes.

Don't forget to make a hole if you want to be able to hang them up.

Either cook on a low heat in the oven for a couple of hours, leave to air dry (about 3 days) or, pop them in the microwave.  I've found 1 minute bursts (turning them each time) for about 3 minutes on a medium heat works really well.  If you find they rise a little or you have air bubbles then just place a plate on top of them as they cook.

Then, decorate:

Miss Mac thought they were pretty awesome.  I shall put them in polythene bags and tie them up with pretty ribbon - total cost - practically nothing - originality - priceless.

I've already started making some salt dough bunting as a gift for my niece to hang in her bedroom as well as making salt dough roses and strawberries made in silicone ice cube trays. 

It really is so addictive!

Photo: Salt dough strawberry - just because ...

Thursday 13 December 2012

Duvet Days For Kids

This isn't the post I was going to write today - in fact I have another post more than half written that I was just going to finish off but then this cropped up.

In general I believe that children should go to school unless they are actively throwing up, have a temperature or some other tangible sign of real illness.

BUT - I also think that there are times where you can use your discretion as a parent and give them a break.

It's not something I do lightly or often but today I've allowed Miss Mac to take the day off.

This is why:

In my last post I told how the year 9's were running the school Christmas Fair this year as part of a business project.

Miss Mac has put an enormous amount of work into it.  She was supposed to be working with two other friends.  I had said that they could both come over on Saturday to draw up the posters, get organised and do the shopping.  That I would be available to help in any way that I could.

On Saturday one of the girls decided she couldn't be bothered to help and didn't show up.  The other one did come and spent the day playing on her phone, eating sweets and doing bugger all else.

Another friend of Miss Macs who was doing a different stall also came round and she DID help out even though it was nothing to do with her.

Miss Mac has agonised over this bloody stall.  Like me she is a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to things like that and she wanted to do a good job.

Yesterday was the Christmas Fair.

Miss Mac set out for school happy and excited, some money in her pocket to spend at the fair (the idea being that each would have the opportunity to have a look around while the others minded the stall).

She came home completely dejected and totally exhausted and took herself off to bed for a couple of hours to sleep.

The other two girls hadn't given her any help other than blowing up a couple of balloons.  She had been left to man the stall by herself the whole time.  She didn't get to look around or spend her money.  At the end of the fair she was left to pack away by herself.

She had borrowed a bowl from the food dept to put some prizes in and when she came back from returning it she was told that she couldn't go back into the room to finish tidying up but had to go to her next lesson.

This she did and at the end of school she returned to finish the clearing up only to find that the cleaning staff had been in and everything left had been binned!

All Miss Macs hard work, the posters, the sleigh that I made (still with some reindeer food left in it), the Christmas decorations I'd lent her to decorate the stall and,the thing she is most upset about, one of the teachers baby photos that she had put in the sleigh as she didn't see her to give it back, all thrown in the bin!

I am angry on so many levels.

I'm angry that her so called 'friends' really let her down.

I'm angry that her business teacher and her form tutor who were both at the fair didn't pick up on what was going on.

I'm angry someone thought it was ok to throw away things that clearly weren't rubbish.

I'm angry that Miss Mac takes all this onto herself and worries herself sick that the teacher who's photo has been binned is going to be really upset and angry with her.

I'm angry, so fucking angry that she worked SO hard and should be so proud of herself and yet she spent most of the night in tears and worrying so yes:

Today I'm letting Miss Mac have a duvet day because she bloody deserves it!!!

ps - I'm well aware that some people may think it's the wrong thing to do and, whilst they may have a point and whilst I generally am happy for people to view any opinions on my blog (and please do feel free to on this post too) - you should be aware that if you do choose to tell me how I should parent my child it's entirely possible I may tell you to fuck off ;)

Oh and yes, I WILL be speaking to the school to sort this out!

Monday 10 December 2012

Famous Last Words

It's a little after 1am and by rights I should be tucked up in my nice warm bed

I love my bed with it's pocket sprung mattress, it's feather filled pillows covered in cosy flannel pillowcases and my light as marshmallow duvet encased in it's crisp blue and white striped duvet cover.

You'd have to go a long way to find a comfier place to be than my bed on a cold winters night.

And yet, here I am, bare foot and cold.  Kitten on my knee and a cup of tea by my side contemplating life and love and wondering if I'll ever make any sense of it all ...

About a week ago I happened to mention to a friend that I rarely get colds,  that in fact it had been years since I last had one.

Famous last words indeed!

The very next day I started sneezing, no other symptoms just sneezing so I ignored it.

The following day, sore throat which I also ignored.


That evening somebody replaced my blood supply with concrete and took a sledge hammer to my limbs.  They also fitted me with some kind of invisible crash helmet or something so everything sounded muffled like I was under water.

My eyes started weeping, my nose constantly ran and my lips were cracked and dry.  The bastards even sandpapered my skin!!!

For the last four days I have felt like 10 different kinds of shit but today, today I started to feel a little better.

My hearing suddenly came back, my nose stopped running and my temperature which had seen me refusing to turn the heating on or wear more than a vest top and joggers for days returned to somewhere near normal (apologies to those I refused to believe, you're right, it IS bloody cold!).

I was SO looking forward to bed tonight.  I'm a bit anal about my bed.  Clean sheets at least twice a week and everything just so (you'll never see a lump or bump in my duvet :).

I had a crafty kind of day.  The year 9's are running the Christmas fair at school this year as part of a project.  They have been given £10 for each stall and the idea is to make money (or at least not lose any).

Miss Mac and some friends have decided to go with the 'guess the teacher from their baby photos' competition.

Now I am slightly ashamed to say that I'm just a little bit competitive when it comes to things like that.  Every year without fail Miss Mac won the Easter Bonnet competition.  It wasn't just about the winning (honest!!!) I just love all that stuff.

I'm not convinced that they have thought this thing through properly or that it will be much of a money spinner BUT I do acknowledge (much as it pains me) that this is all part of the learning process and I needed to butt out.

So I have ....

Kind of ....

I just suggested a little sideline for the stall.  I mean, that's ok isn't it?  I'm letting them do their thing their way (ok, I helped a little with the poster but that's all).

Well, I had a lovely afternoon making Reindeer food and fashioning a sleigh out of a shoebox with lots of wrapping paper, glitter and tinsel to put it in.

Best of all I had everything to make it from here so it didn't add to their costs and hopefully the kids will like it after all, who doesn't like reindeer food???

I'm wandering a little here aren't I?

The reason I'm not tucked up in a self satisfied smug cocoon?

This bloody cold which I thought I had knocked on the head has me wheezing and making a weird kind of crackling noise every time I lie down and every 30 seconds I have to sit up just so I can breath.

It seemed easier to come down and waffle on here for a bit although how much sense I'm making dosed up to the eyeballs on a combination of paracetamol, Benylin and hot toddies I'm not really sure...

I do need to get some sleep though as tomorrow I need to have my wits about me because Double D has invited me out for a spot of stocking filling (at least I THINK that's what he said ...).

Wednesday 5 December 2012

Abandoning All Hope

I sometimes worry that maybe people might think I'm a little ....  Hmmm, frivolous? 

Maybe even a bit lightweight ...

I did wonder if I should write a post explaining that ok, yes, I MIGHT just be those things at times BUT there's far more to me than that (honest!!).

I was going to point out that actually, I am a fairly intelligent, responsible and capable person.  That many people value my advice and opinion (yes you do, go on,  admit it! ;).

That, when the need arises I can (arise?) be relied upon to stand up and be counted.

I thought I'd give a few examples and cast around for inspiration.

I have to say, I probably don't do myself any favours do I?

This morning I 'liked' a page on FB (I tend not to like to many as you get inundated with crap but this one was connected to a blog I found through a friend which looked like fun).

Anyway - I  managed to not only say lubricant but also penis, TWICE, in my very first comment ...  possibly NOT a great example then ...

I commented on a status from a friend who said that they had snow this morning and asked if I could come to play - He said:

NO...not letting you anywhere near it. You're WAY to dangerous as it is.....lol.'

Completely unfair (as I pointed out) - it's been almost 2 years since I last broke a bone in the snow!

So I checked out my recent status updates - surely I must have said something semi intelligent or insightful???

Most recent:

'Hmm, it's probably just steam (altho it COULD be smoke) -I'll just turn it back on - see what happens...'
The response I got?
'OK , it's been eight hours now should I phone the emergency services or is the new pressure cooker now working? It's no wonder I worry'
Some people have SO little faith in me, it's astounding! ( I don't even own a pressure cooker:)
I delved a little further (pretty confident that at some point Id find something to redeem myself ...) and found this:
'Dumb question time - Are you supposed to put shoe polish on with a brush and then polish it off with a cloth or is it the other way round???'
To which the answer (for those also not in the know) is - you should used two brushes, one to put it on and one to polish after.  Failing that then, on with a cloth, off with the brush.
And no, I didn't wait for the answer.  And yes, I got it the wrong way round ok?
Moving on ...
'My relief at not having trodden on a slug (again!) was short lived when I realised it was cat shit!'
Now that status went global ...  ok, viral ... - well, got reposted anyway by a friend so that all of HER friends could laugh at me too!
Then I hit GOLD!
A friend had posted THIS!!
'Thank you to Sarah Mac for her assistance with my fantastic blackberry and apple crumble! Not tried it yet but sometimes that's for the best - rest on my laurels!'
See?  I DO have my moments! (we shall gloss over the fact that she was force feeding her son said crumble)
With restored faith I carried on:
I found this photo:
Photo: What am I doing? Isn't it obvious that Im ironing Lous homework?
With the caption:
What am I doing? Isn't it obvious that I'm ironing Miss Mac's homework?
Aspersions were  cast on my having the right skills to actually use an iron (bloody cheek!)
Possibly I didn't help myself when I confessed that I hadn't realised she's used crayon for some of it and now I had melted crayon all over my ironing board cover and, when it was suggested that ironing over it with a layer of brown paper between the iron and cover would probably take it off I used the first bit of brown paper I came across (it worked btw) but no one had said not to use the paper bag the onions were stored in ...  I mean seriously people, don't go leaving out the important details ok?
'Clearly I should not be let loose with hairspray'
Self explanatory if you've read my 'Seduction Sarah Stylee' post ...
And then FINALLY (thank you god!)  I found this staus I posted last week!:
'Love the innocence of someone (who shall remain nameless) who has no idea why I laughed until I cried when they ended dictating an email I was typing for them with - 'see you next Tuesday'.'
Oh I'm aware it doesn't really further MY case (but at least it does prove that it's not just me :)
BTW - thinking of conducting a straw pole - asking people if they think there might be any hope for me or if I'm lost cause - what do you think???

Monday 3 December 2012

Time Warp

It's been a helluv a weekend - my feet have barely touched the ground!

On Friday a call went out from the Hairy Bikers that the place to be was the Plough ...

Last time I went there it was called Harpoon Louis and it was a restaurant.

We'd had a works Christmas meal there and to be honest, I thought I might still be banned!

I'd just like to point out that it was a blanket ban and it wasn't anything I'd done ok!

Anyway.  It hasn't been on my radar since and I didn't even know it had been converted back to a pub.

It's hard to resist the HB's even though most of them aren't so hairy these days and some of them don't even have bikes anymore (but that's always been my name for them and it's kind of stuck).

I ummed and ahh just a little but had my arm twisted by the news that The Man from Funkle were playing.  Not my absolute favourite band although technically they really are very good.  A little too much 80's dance going on for my liking when I was far more into Punk in that era.


I swear to god I walked into an 80's time warp.  Seriously.  There were people there I thought had died!

It's not a big place and it was heaving.

I stood at the bar and looked around and there was MB.  I don't think I've seen him for about 10 years.  I used to have a bit of a thing about him way, way back and he looked just as gobsmacked to see me.

He'd started on the real ale a little early and by the time we got there (fashionably late) he was in effusive overdrive comparing me to a fine wine that's improved with age ect  Actually not a hugely flattering analogy but hey, he tried.

SD was on top form giving me the lowdown on all the people he knew from the past.  He has an endearing tendency to give me a all the details on someone who then generally turn out to be someone completely different altogether.

We were standing talking to an old friend of his and his wife (who obviously SD couldn't introduce me to) about the days he used to do landscape gardening and how he then moved into teaching.

Suddenly, like a bloody jelly fish she came out of nowhere and said to SD, 'so you're not as stupid as you look then'!!!

I don't know if she was trying to be funny or clever or what - I think she was just bloody rude!

I was tempted to say, 'I don't suppose you're as fat as you look, you just don't have any friends to tell you how big your arse looks in those leggings' - but I resisted ;).

For the record, SD isn't and doesn't look in the least bit stupid!

We sat down and chatted with the HB's who are hilarious when this random woman threw herself onto SD's lap.  I have to say, the women in there that night weren't at all slow at being forward!

Seeing SD totally helpless to do anything about it without actually tipping her on to the floor (which he is far too well mannered to do) was the best entertainment any of us had had all night.

Saturday ....  Do you know, Saturday is a complete blank!

I've NO idea what I did on Saturday ...

Nope, it's gone ....  If it comes back to me I'll let you know.

Sunday was the Christmas Cruz.

A gathering of several hundred VDubbers, Hotrodders, Bikers and Classic car enthusiasts in Bristol followed by a cruise through the town ending up at a big social event.

It raises a huge amount for charity every year and it's a final (forgetting final fling) chance to catch up with some people before next Spring when everything kicks off again.

Sunday night ....  Hmmm ...

Well, I WAS supposed to be heading back up to Bristol to see the Dickies and the Damned but Sunday night means I have childcare issues so I had to give it a miss which I'm gutted about.

Not helped by the world and his wife plastering what a good time they were having all over FB.

One last thing.

Those phone calls....

Well, I had another one over the weekend.  I'd left my phone at home by mistake yesterday and when I got home there was a missed call from an unknown number.  The call actually came on Saturday according to the phone log but I didn't get a notification until yesterday for some reason.

I was all for ignoring it still.  Not that I can do much else when it's an unknown number.

I do still have the number that wasn't witheld and I keep picking up my phone to ring it and then not doing it.

When my phone rang with a withheld number this morning I was surprised at how it shook me up.  Seriously, I was almost too scared to answer it!

But I did.

Bloody recorded message asking me if Id thought about a personal pension!!!

I think the best thing is to ignore it if there are any more.  I'm really pissed off that I'm wasting so much time dwelling on it.

I still can't be sure that there is any connection between the calls and I'm starting to wonder if I didn't just imagine someone calling me a bitch.

It could just be the result of my overactive imagination (ok, not entirely convincing myself here).

Anyway, life's to short to waste time worrying about that kind of crap and I've decided that tomorrow is the day I start putting up my Christmas decorations although if FB is anything to go by I seem to be leaving it rather late!

Friday 30 November 2012

I Need Bigger Ranty Pants!

Seriously, I can feel them expanding to the point where they are about to give up the unequal struggle and just explode!

So, what's my problem?

Well, it's just a few things that are really niggling me at the moment.

One is Blogger.  It's playing silly buggers with me.  It wont let me insert images, anything I've posted in the last couple of weeks has been cut and pasted into it.  Not a biggie really but irritating but, much worse than that is the fact that my spam filter seems to have stopped working!

At the beginning of the week I logged in to find I had 499 comments awaiting moderation!

I turned comment moderation on several months ago for post older than 3 days so that I didn't miss anything and it worked really well for me, but it seemed that one of my posts had become a target for everything from Viagra to designer handbags.

A bit of a pain in the arse but I just put the post into draft and thought that would sort it.  It didn't and now the spam seems to have bypassed the filter completely and I'm getting between 30 and 50 messages a day.

I refuse to go down the word verification route - I can understand why so many people do but it drives me mad so I'm not doing it.  I decided (and you may have noticed this in my last post) that I'd just turn comment moderation on for all posts and weed out the spam myself for now.

Obviously I have accidentally deleted 4 comments on my last post along with the spam (and huge apologies if you left one and now it's just gone) so I am pissed off with blogger!

Want to know what else is pissing me off?

I'm going to tell you anyway ;).

In the last few weeks I've been inundated with letters from the school about school trips ect.  It's great that the kids get to do stuff and I'm all in favour of getting them out of the classroom from time to time and doing something different.

BUT, it is SOOOO fucking expensive!!

I'm a single parent and, at times, it's a struggle.  My children don't go without the things that they need and they have some of the things that they want and, like any parent, I will happily go without from time to time to give them these things.

It's been an expensive few weeks.  I've replaced my washing machine (you can't keep hoicking your smalls round to others forever y'know).  Miss Mac has had a growth spurt which has meant virtually a whole new school uniform and some new home clothes and money only goes so far and there have been a few other little things to shell out for.

I've always found the money for trips, I don't want my kids to miss out and why should they but the last few weeks have been ridiculous! 

Miss Mac has brought home 3 letters with trips ranging from £5 to £25 all of which are to places that require them to have spending money too (and you can't not give them some money to spend).

The biggy was to the Harry Potter Exhibition at the Warner Bros studios - a fantastic trip. Miss Mac is a huge Harry P fan and it was a great opportunity BUT - I just didn't have the cash to spare!

Most of the school trip require a 'voluntary contribution' - as it says on the forms, unless enough children pay then they may be unable to go ahead with the trip.

Now I understand that and, like I said, I've always found the money.

However, THIS time I just couldn't justify it, it came at the wrong time.

So I thought ok, a voluntary contribution should mean that as long as I make a contribution then it should be fine.  I crossed out the bit that said £25 pounds and wrote £10 above it and ticked the box to say that money was enclosed and thought no more about it.

Until, Miss Mac said that she (and several others) had been called in and asked where the money was for the trip.  Now I don't know if the others had made any contribution at all.  After all, school trips are supposed to be inclusive and It clearly says this is a voluntary contribution. I know that there are many families who struggle more than I do and possibly were unable to make any kind of payment at all.

Miss Mac was mortified and I was seriously pissed off!

I called the school the next day.  I explained that I had made a contribution but it wasn't for the full amount which I had made clear on the form.  I explained that this was the first time I hadn't paid the full amount and that it was probably a one off.  I pointed out that it was a little out of order to be calling the children in rather than contacting parents direct if there were any queries.

I received an apology and an assurance that it was a mistake.  That they were just supposed to have followed up those forms that hadn't indicated that payment (full or otherwise) wasn't included as they had to account for all money taken by the school.

Fair enough.

Until I received a phone call the day before the trip asking why Miss Mac hadn't paid the full amount!

I went through the same explanation pointing out that I'd already had this conversation feeling like a completely crap mother who would obviously prefer to spend her money on crack cocaine and whiskey than a school trip for her daughter.

I ended up apologising to this bloody woman and promising to send in the remainder of the money next week.  I felt completely fucking humiliated!

I don't want something for nothing.  I've always been involved with my children's schools and fund raising.  I don't think that makes me any better than anyone else, it's just been important to me.

There may be a few that play the system to avoid paying for school trips, I don't know but I do know that's not ME!

So yes, I will find the money but the damage is done.  Miss Mac has been embarrassed and I feel ...

Well, never mind.

Anyway.  The Harry Potter Trip was yesterday and a HUGE success.

Seriously, if you are in a position to take your kids then DO.  Miss Mac didn't draw breath for several hours telling me all about it!

One final rant.

Well, not really a rant but something that's causing me a little concern.

I've been getting some 'odd' phone calls in the last few weeks.

At first I didn't think anything of it.

The first one was from a woman.  It was a terrible line and I couldn't be sure but I thought she sounded upset.  I couldn't get what she was saying at all it was so muffled so I asked her to call me back and try again.

She didn't.

I didn't give it much thought assuming it was just a sales call or something.  It wasn't until I'd had a couple more calls that it clicked, she had asked if I was Sarah, not Mrs Mac or even Sarah Mac, just Sarah.  Hmmm, probably NOT a sales call then.

Over the next week or so I had 3 more calls, 2 with withheld numbers and 1 a number didn't recognise.  When I answered them there was a pause (but I'm pretty sure someone was there) and then they hung up.

A few days ago I had another call, this time the number wasn't withheld and it wasn't someone in my phone book either.  Again there was a pause with me saying 'hello' several times and then I heard someone mutter 'bitch' but under their breath, not like they were actually saying it to ME or that I was meant to hear it but just saying it as they hung up.

To be honest I wasn't sure what to do.  I did think about calling them back and asking who the fuck it was.  To my knowledge I don't have any enemies and if I did then they wouldn't have my number ...

I thought about leaving it a few days and ringing while withholding my number so they wouldn't know it was me and would answer it but then what would I say?  Chances are they would either hang up on me or deny calling me and I probably wouldn't recognise the voice so I still wouldn't know.  A friend offered to ring the number for me.  But again, and say WHAT?

Doing something (if there really is someone with a problem out there) might just give it credence and escalate things anyway.

I did briefly wonder if it was an ex girlfriend of SD's or something.  I can't think of anyone else who might have a problem with me (and I'm not sure that any of them would either so I'm clutching at straws a bit here) but it's unlikely, how would they get my number?  It's not like SD has a mobile that anyone could somehow have got the number from.

I did wonder if it was anything to do with Ex Lax - who knows.  One of his girlfriends since we split did turn out to be barking mad but I don't have any direct contact with him any more so I can't see that there would have been anything to trigger it.

I don't know.  Maybe there is no connection between the calls.  Maybe that call was a wrong number.  Maybe I'm letting it bother me too much ...

It's a horrible feeling that there may be someone out there who, for whatever reason, has a problem with me but just doesn't have the guts to come out and say so but I'm not going to dwell on it too much if I can help it.  Hopefully that's the last of it and writing it out makes it seem not so much of a big deal anyway.

It just leave a nasty taste in my mouth ...

Ok, ranty pants slightly deflated now.  I'll be back soon with more of the ridiculous soon :).

Wednesday 28 November 2012

'Seduction' Sarah Stylee

As you know I'm a bit of a (self confessed) expert in many fields ... *

You may be new to my blog and therefore have missed some invaluable words of wisdom or, maybe you are a lazy blog reader (ahem, guilty ...) in which case, what can I say?

Your life could be SO different with just the click of a mouse ....

If you need a bit of a catch up (and I would strongly advise that you do) then this is a taste of what you may have missed:

So far I've covered dating tips for men - how not to kiss (this goes for anyone really but in particular ME because I've been there already and I didn't like it ok) - my brief foray into relationship counselling and my tact and discretion which would make me an ideal personal shopper. 

Oh, and of course my dalliance into consumer testing with particular reference to control pants parts.

There are probably more but that should be enough for you to realise that I really DO know what I'm talking about.

Disclaimer in place - lets begin ... ;-)

Ok, well, the first thing you need to know is that this was my very first seduction (and I rarely find it advisable I need to try anything twice).  In the past I've always left it up to the men to do the seducing and to be honest, that's worked pretty well up until now.

My 'victim' was of course Surfer Dude.

Understandably there's always been speculation surrounding my relationship with SD. 

We've spent a great deal of time together.  He has made his feelings for me very clear from the start.  I am very fond of him AND I've been open about the fact that there has always been a spark between us.

The general consensus has always been 'get in there girl!!!'

So, what was my problem?  Well, a brief explanation .

Apart from that fact that my track record of crashing and burning in spectacular style makes me very VERY wary of putting my heart on the line again there were a couple of other things that bothered me.

SD has always been very popular with women. 

Partly that's due to his natural friendly manner (it's impossible not to like him) and his genuine liking for women and partly it's because he has this 'pretty boy' look going on (pissing myself as I type that knowing how much he would hate for me to describe him in that way, but it's true, he has ;).

Funnily enough, although I've always appreciated SD's look he's never really been what I would consider to be my 'type'.  He's tall and lean, blond and tanned ... incredibly fit -  I know, I know,  I'm wondering why that wouldn't really be my type too ...

The truth is, I've always tended to go for men who are a little more hmmm ... left of centre shall we say ...

I've known a few of SD's girlfriends in the past, most of them have been pretty damned stunning and there have been quite a few of them (blog fodder for another day ;).  It's not so much that he was a player exactly he was just too busy having a good time and unwilling to compromise his lifestyle to settle down and fit in with convention. 

It doesn't particularly bother me that he has a past, I'd be far more worried if he hadn't!  But, did I really want to risk screwing up a friendship that means a great deal to me?  Hmmm ...

Ok, now that's out of the way - back to the seduction!

Having finally been convinced that maybe I should stop buggering about and give him a whirl, or, as was so eloquently said, stop being such an 'arse', I decided to pull out all the stops and do this thing properly!

Now I've spent a fair amount of time knocking SD back so I realised that I might need to be just  a little  .... obvious?

I considered my options:

1) invite him round and open the door stark bollock naked ...

But what if he assumed I'd just 'forgotten' to put my clothes on or something ...  (What???  it happens!).

2) invite him round and open the door wearing a seduction kit of stockings, high heels, nipple tassels (no, I don't actually HAVE any - but I could get some from somewhere or knit some or something couldn't I?  ;) and murmur 'come and get me big boy'...

What if he assumed I'd just forgotten the rest of my clothes and just always wore that kit underneath  and/or that I was drunk.
3) Invite him round and just pounce on him the moment I opened the door ...

Yep, he would definitely think I was drunk (either that or that I was trying to bite him again ....)

4)  Be honest and open with him.  Sit him down - talk to him -  tell him that despite my fears, despite my reservations that maybe he was right.

Maybe we could make it work. Maybe I could have faith just one last time.

That maybe it was time I stopped being scared, that maybe it wasn't always me that got it wrong, maybe I wasn't the jinx I'd began to think I was and maybe it WAS time to start believing in myself and allowed myself a chance for happiness ... Because I do know that he would do everything in his power to make me happy ...

Lol ...

Bollocks to THAT idea - I mean, god, who on earth would do THAT?

You almost took me seriously for a moment there didn't you??

Be honest -  you did didn't you?  ;)

Obviously  I went for option 5.

Invite him round - be subtly seductive - send out subliminal messages and remind him how totally irresistible I am by, I don't know ... twirling my hair - posing provocatively on the sofa or, or ...  something??

Yep, I could do that!

First things first - arrange a child free night - tick!

Secondly - spend four hours giving myself that 'effortless sex goddess look'.

Slight hiccough when my temperamental hair straighteners refused to heat up leaving me looking something like this!

  1. Photo: Doesn't really look any better this way up does it ...
Not a photo taken on the night in question - I was far too traumatised to be taking photos - it actually looked MUCH worse than this!

Which maybe I could possibly  have worked with if I hadn't decided to brush it - DOH!
Seriously, my hair was SO fucking big by the time I'd finished it qualified for it's own postcode and  I actually doubt I could fit a photo of it on this page!

But hey, I'm nothing if not resourceful so I pinched Miss Macs hairspray (not something I ever use myself) and proceeded to turn my head into a solid lacquered deconstructed birds nest.

Oh yes, great result!
I also managed to get it EVERYWHERE ... 

No kidding, it was in my eyes (ouch - do NOT do that!) -  in my mouth (god it tastes disgusting!), all over my clothes ...

Seriously, my eyelashes (having already had three coats of Va Va Voom extreme mascara and then getting a liberal plastering of extra hold volumising hairspray) were like bloody lethal weapons - if SD came anywhere near those mofo's he'd have shredded his face!

Having now left myself a little under and hour to perform a miracle,my nerves in tatters, I hopped back into the shower.

My hair unsurprisingly objected to this further assault and by the time I'd dried it for the second time it was practically vertical!

But, like I said, I'm resourceful ... ;)

I decided to go for the French look and have a thick plait hanging over one shoulder, which, if I do say so myself, looked pretty damned sexy!

I briefly considered donning a striped shirt, a beret, slinging a string of onions round my neck and watching an episode of 'Allo' Allo' to complete the experience but unfortunately I didn't have a striped shirt ... ;)

So I considered my wardrobe.

Now SD isn't really a leg man which is a real bugger as there is no doubt that my legs are one of my best features (and can be a huge distraction from many of the stupid things I say and do).

SD is a boob man ....

How do I know that? 

I'm not really sure ...

Anyway, I spent some time considering mine ...

They looked ok to me and I've never had any complaints -  BUT - were they what a boob man was looking for ....  THAT I didn't know (I always end up with the leg men).

Stuff it, I decided I'd just have to convert SD into a leg man and play to my strengths.

So, I was ready.

Soft lighting, seductive music, bottle of wine poured down my neck open to breath, cat litter tray emptied, and that bastard cat Bear slung out for the night and there was a knock at the door ...

FFS, he was at least 10 minutes early - SD perennially runs late and I wasn't mentally prepared yet!

So I ran away and hid in the bathroom ....

Gave myself a 30 second pep talk (mostly consisting of repeated saying fuck, fuck, FUUUCCKK!!!!) and went to answer the door.

'Did you forget the rest of your clothes?' he smiled looking down at me.


'What's that god awful music' he asked, 'I thought you were child free tonight?'

'It's a bit dark in here' - flicking on a couple of light switches ...

' I thought we could watch this later if you like' - chucking down a DVD - The Raven - A thriller about a psychopath  on a brutal killing spree based on the works of Edgar Allan Poe.

Things weren't going exactly to plan here ...

I thought we could just have a glass of wine and talk I said arranging myself artistically on the sofa.

Ok said SD sitting on the OTHER fucking sofa!  What do you want to talk about?

Damn, he wasn't supposed to ask me that!

Playing for time I reached up to twirl my hair provocatively and encountered a plait.  Great, I suppose I could have swung it round my head like a bloody lasso or something.

I cast around for something to say that didn't involve me blurting out 'look, do you still fancy me or what?' (which was what was going around my head but even I could see how puerile that sounded).

SD was looking at me with some concern, I think it was something to do with the facial expressions I was pulling whilst having all these internal conversations.

'Are you ...  drunk' he said eventually.

Clearly my best option would have been to say yes.

I took a deep breath - it was now or never time!

'I didn't forget my clothes I was just trying to distract you from my boobs because I'm not sure if they are ok and I didnt have any nipple tassels and I can't knit, well, at least I CAN sort of but I can't go round corners so I can only knit scarves and even then I'm not really sure how to finish off so they dont come unravelled ....' At which point I ran out of breath.

'You can't KNIT?' SD interjected looking slightly confused.

'No!  I can't fucking knit and yes, I MIGHT have had a glass or even two of wine before you arrived but I'm NOT drunk it's just that my stupid hair straightners are fucked and I can't twirl a bloody plait can I?

By now SD was looking a bit scared.

'Okaaay', he said, is something wrong - 'you seem a little ....'  words to describe my behaviour seemed beyond him by this point

'Oh FFS' I said, let me make this simple for you!

'I am T R Y I N G to seduce you you complete tosser!'

Well put no?

SD looked completely nonplussed.  Seriously gobsmacked, totally speechless.

Then he started laughing.

BASTARD (after all my hard work too!).

Then he came over and sat beside me and, lifting my chin up (I couldn't even look him in the eye at this point) he said softly:

'Tell me honestly Sarah - just how the fuck I was ever supposed to work THAT one out? ...'

and then he kissed me ....

*This is obviously on the basis of bugger all including but not exclusively any success or lack of thereof.

Wednesday 21 November 2012

It Never Rains But It Pours!

Have I ever told you how much I adore SD's parents?

No?  Well I do.

His Mum reminds me of Mrs Goggins from Postman Pat (but don't tell SD I said that ok ;) and his Dad is the most laid back person I've ever met who wanders around whistling tunelessly which irritates the hell out of SD partly I'm sure because it's very clear where SD gets HIS musical (in) ability from.

Anyway, they have kind of taken out a timeshare on Gus (that's my border collie for those not in the know).  Now I adore Gus and I miss him when he's not around but there is no doubt that he loves spending time on the farm and who could blame him?

Not only is there a log burner (I just have boring central heating) but he has his own cushion, has meals cooked especially for him (Sunday roast is his favourite), gets to wander all over the countryside AND, if that wasn't enough, SD's dad has built what can only be described as a mini gymkhana in the garden for him.

Like I said to SD, Gus is like the grandson he failed to provide them with.

SD's Mum always likes a nice photo of him in a frame for Christmas but I suggested this year she might prefer one of Gus ....  Seriously, I think she might!

Anyone who lives in the UK knows what crap weather we've been having over the last few days.  A months worth of rain in a few hours in some places today and it's causing chaos.

Somerset has been particularly hard hit although after torrential rain last night and this morning we did have a beautiful afternoon.

It wasn't until Miss Mac came home form school telling me that the school has almost closed due to 15 teachers not making it in today that I thought to check the news.

Bloody hell!  Complete devastation all around me!  We are practically an island with alerts on all the local rivers.  I'm a little ashamed that I was totally oblivious to this not having talked to anyone today and not having watched the news.

I then had a phone call from Jon (he of the big barn conversion who held the hippy party).  He was phoning me from Nigeria where he works on an oil rig.  It seems the barn has flooded and his wife and son are cut off in all directions.  Was there any way that SD and I could get through and help in any way.

So I phoned SD who was at his parents house ....  which apparently has also been flooded ... and there is more heavy rain forecast for tomorrow ...

So I'm in a quandary.  A mother and young son stranded and there is no way that most things are going to get through the flooded lanes to them.  Even SD struggled to get to work this morning in his 4WD which sits about 2ft higher than the average car and goes through pretty much anything and a couple of pensioners who are not going to be able to so much more than mop up when the whole of downstairs needs clearing out and cleaning before they can think of trying to dry the place out.  How the fuck they are going to managed THAT with just the log burner I really don't know!

It's a no brainer really so tomorrow I'll be spending the day at the farm and then, if at all possible, going over to see what we can do to salvage things over at Jon's place.  Christ, they have sweated blood building that place and only moved in this summer after two years of living on site in a caravan.  The solid oak flooring only went down about three months ago.  I can't imagine how heartbreaking this must be and how frustrated Jon must be being so far away and unable to help.

Who knows what's in store over the next few days.  A couple more inches of rain and the school will close.  The football pitch is already a lake and the very large pond near the reception area is about to spill over.  The main park in town is under 2ft of water and the road is closed to the next town.  The river that runs right through the heart of town is on red alert and if that bursts it's banks ....  Well, lets just say we aren't out of the firing line just yet.

Hmmm, well, enough scaremongering, it hasn't happened yet.

One of the things they will do to try to alleviate the problem is to open to flood gates and flood the Somerset levels rather than the town.  The trouble is this brings all sorts of associated problems.  The farmers on the levels are still recovering from the floods in the summer.  The ground is already saturated and the levels are a protected area full of wildlife.  The villages on the levels are already flooded and the land just can't cope with any more water.

One day at a time I guess.

Lets see what tomorrow brings.  One thing I'm fairly sure of is that it's going to be lots of hard work and wading through shit.

Deep joy ; -)

See you on the flip side.

Monday 19 November 2012


Surfer Dude called me the perfect woman the other day.

Now I've been there before. I know it's something I can't live up to.

Ex Lax used to tell me I was perfect, the first person he could talk to about anything. Others have said the same thing in the past. The first person they could truly be themselves with .... etc

Anyway, it rang major alarm bells for me. Don't put me on a pedestal, I don't think I could survive another fall, the last one damn near destroyed me.

So I tried to laughed it off. I listed all my imperfections. My scantiness, my unpredictability. The way I seem to attract the ridiculous. The stupid stuff I say and do. The way that when I get something into my head I just do it without thinking things through.

God, I could go on and on ... I actually got quite emotional about it all - DON'T LAY THAT SHIT ON ME. I'm just not up to it.

Perfect I sure as hell ain't!

As ever SD sat and silently listened to my ranting. He didn't interrupt. He didn't try to stop me. He just waited until I ran out of steam.

And then he said:

'Those are all the things that make you MY perfect woman'.

Fuckit, I'm really not sure where I'm going with this ...

Just being me seems to be enough for once. It's a concept I'm still trying to get my head around.

I've known SD for more than half my life. He KNOWS me and he loves me just the way I am.

Well, what can I say SD?


Monday 12 November 2012

It's Not Me - It's Him!

You know how men ramble on about all kinds of crap and you just nod and smile while you plan next weeks meals or wonder whether you could get away with dying your hair blue?

I mean, you can't possibly listen to EVERYTHING they say ...  can you??

I do it quite a lot with Surfer Dude.  Mostly he's waffling on about his second favourite Harley wheels or the intricate in's and outs of a Baja engine.  I figure I'm just a sounding board and he doesn't really expect any kind of meaningful conversation anyway which, let's face it, is just as well, because I know bugger all about most of the things he's banging on about.

Well occasionally it comes back to bite me on the bum ...

I've had a great weekend.  On Friday night I went to listen to a local band - Stuff Stan Likes -   SD, as I've mentioned before, knows EVERYBODY!

Well, at least everybody knows him.  Seriously, we can't go anywhere without people stopping to talk to him.

The minute we walked through the door he was accosted by a couple who insisted on buying us a drink -  not so shabby ;)

The trouble with SD is that he tends to recognise people only with reference to the car/bike etc that they own, He doesn't remember names and so can't introduce me.  If I'm in a benevolent mood I'll introduce myself, hold out my hand and say, 'Hi, I'm Sarah' which usually prompts them to offer their name and gets SD out of a sticky situation.

If I'm not, I'll stand there looking expectantly at SD and watch him squirm ;).

So anyway, we had a great time.  Not only were the band rocking but the pub was holding a beer and cider festival so it was heaving.

On Saturday we went to pick up a caravan that SD kind of accidentally bought on EBay.  I know, I know, how the hell do you manage to do that?

Ask SD, he seems to manage to do it effortlessly which is how he ended up with the Jeep and the green Beetle.

On the way there a car passed us, bloke waving, beeping his horn etc. 'Who's that' I asked.

'Umm, Dave I think' said SD - you know, you met him last year, remember ...

Hmm, not ringing any bells for me.  Unsurprisingly as it turned out as apparently when I saw him he was driving a drag racing tractor and dressed in a gorilla suit (now that I DO remember!).

Saturday night we went out to see another band, Snappa - now THEY are in a class of their own!!!  I'm going to attach a link here - go listen to their rendition of Mrs Robinson - I insist!

Go on .....

Look, I'm not a Simon and Garfunkel fan either but trust me ok - GO AND LISTEN!

And then listen to some of their other stuff.

And then come on down to Somerset (you can stay with me:) and I'll take you to see them live!

So, back to the caravan (this is where the 'me not listening' bit comes in).

Occasionally, just occasionally mind, SD says something that I probably should have listened to ....

On Sunday we had a good look over the caravan.  Now, being SD it's not your average, run of the mill (if there is such a thing) van.  It's quaint, it's quirky, it's tiny which is about all he can cope with as he doesn't see himself as the caravan club type but this one has just about enough charm for him to be able to deal with it.

Bear in mind that I'm not good at being told how to do things, particularly things that seem obvious to me such as 'how to lock a caravan door'.  So, when SD started to explain it to me I was busy mentally redecorating the interior ( I'm thinking blue and white stripes - sound familiar ;) and maybe some glitter ...) for him and then, when he asked me to lock it up the bloody thing wouldn't!

SD expressed surprise that I couldn't do it bearing in mind that he had spent at least 5 minutes explaining how just moments before.

So I got shitty because I felt he was patronising me, 'of course I can lock a fucking door!'

Two minutes later SD said with exaggerated patience. 'Sarah, don't you think your being just a little childish here?'

'No I don't' I said, 'and frankly I'm a little offended by that suggestion!'

'Ok', he said.  'Then perhaps you can explain to me why, when all I was doing was trying to help you, you ran away singing with your hands over your ears and now you're hiding behind a hedge ....'

Wednesday 7 November 2012

It's An Education (but not as we know it ... )

Today The Lounge is being hosted by Tegan from Musings Of The Misguided and the key word is:


As is my way, rather than writing a whole new post I put the key word into my blog search to see what came up and this was the result:

It's An Education (but not as we know it ... )

Overheard conversation between Miss Mac and a friend who I shall call Leah (because that is in fact her name ;).

MM - I hate Winter and the dark nights.

L - Yeah, me too but at least you get an extra hour in bed.

MM - Yeah, but that's only for one night though isn't it.

L - Is it ..... ?  I thought it was EVERY night!!!

I despair .....

Mind you, apparently Leah also thought a blow job was when you did really badly at an interview - I shit you not!!!

I'm not really sure if I should be more concerned that Miss Mac does know what a blow job is ....

God, they grow up too fast dont they?  Luckily Miss Mac thinks it's all 'totally gross' anyway.

I discovered yesterday that kids can now request something called a C Card - this gives them access to free condoms.

I'm torn between being horrified that my 13 year old daughter is being offered this and relieved that the option is available.

I'm a realist.  I know that kids experiment.  I know that they want to grow up too fast.  I know that this is a time where physically and hormonally it's bloody confusing and I also know that emotionally no child, male or female, is, at that age, ready to take that kind of step!

Maybe I'm being naive in not worrying too much about Miss Mac but we have a good relationship, we talk about things and she is a very switched on girl with a clear focus on her future ....  Ok, I still worry ....

I've digressed a little, this was meant to be a lighthearted post and so I shall return to the story of the C Card.

Apparently one of Miss Mac friends got hold of one.  More I'm sure for the street cred of carrying one rather than with any intention of needing it and, yesterday, in an English lesson, while the teacher was out of the room for a moment she got a pack of condoms out and handed one to Miss Mac...

It was strawberry flavoured, bright pink and a size large ....

It really tasted of strawberries too - how did she know that??? Yep, I made the mistake of asking ....

Anyway, obviously Miss Mac thought it would be funny to blow it up and hit her friend over the head with it (where exactly WAS that teacher???) - she then got it stuck on her finger (it really hurt!) and then she stuck a pen in it and popped it so ....  Her friend gave her another one!

Which Miss Mac started to blow up ......

Only it got hooked on her brace .....

And the teacher came back into the room ....

And Miss Mac had a large, pink, strawberry flavoured, half inflated condom in her mouth....

The teacher looked at Miss Mac....

Miss Mac looked at the teacher....

The condom deflated as Miss Mac smiled at the teacher and dangled attractively from her brace and down her chin ....

The teacher - with remarkable control - requested that Miss Mac remove the condom from her mouth and continue with the set work.

Miss Mac -  attempted to explain through the (now flacid and flapping) condom that she couldn't as it was hooked on her brace when the teacher held up her hand to silence her.

'Miss Mac', she said.  'I am going to give you a piece of valuable advice.  Something that will stand you in good stead for the rest of your life.  Something that the rest of the class should consider and something that your parents should have drummed into you from a very early age'.

When you are in public it is very rude and considered EXTREMELY unattractive to ...

Talk With Your Mouth Full!

Thursday 1 November 2012

A Final Fling

You know how I sometimes concieve this notion that I'm an expert on certain matters?

Well ... 

It happened again yesterday!

I was in Primark (and yes, I think we have established that I am no shopping snob).  Primarks great for somethings, socks, vest tops, the occasional pair of jeans because unlike some shops they actually come in longer lengths!

Anyhow, I've decided that I may have missed my vocation.

I'd be a GREAT personal shopper.

Example ....

There I was minding my own business, gaping in horror admiring some god awful leggings of the knitted/fair isle patterened variety (seriously, if you own a pair, Im sorry, but they are truly hideious!) when a woman turned to me with a jumper in her hand and asked me what I thought.

'That is so fucking awful' I replied, 'if you put it down and walk away as fast as you can right now I'll never tell anyone you even contemplated it for a moment ok!'

Her face registered a little shock and then a voice piped up behind me -

'Actually, I THINK she was talking to me!'

Ohhh ....

Ok, maybe NOT the best start to my new career (but I was right though ... ;).

So, back to the title of this post.

Last Saturday I headed off to Woolacombe Bay with SD for a final fling. 

Nah, not THAT kind of fling!!

It's a final get together at the end of the season (I would say summer but I think that's been left far behind us!).

Basically it's a giant piss up with about 300 people, lots of beer and a few bands.

It's also right on the top of a cliff by the sea, it's in October and it's the UK.

I stepped out of the car into winds that nearly sliced me in half!  It was fecking FREEZING!!!

But, it was the most beautiful day, blue skies and not a cloud to be seen.

We arrived at about 11am to find the party already in full swing, some people having arrived the night before and the beer flowing.

SD suggested that we take a stroll into town and get some lunch to line our stomachs before hitting the hard stuff.

This suggestion was met by muffled laughter, gasps of horror and 'walk into town, did you say you are going to WALK??????'

Ummm, yes .... ?

Bear in mind that although I've been to Woolacombe many times I've never actually been to a final fling before so I've never been to this site.

Off we set.

It was lovely in the lanes sheltered from the wind by the hedges it was really quite warm.

This was fun!

Then I heard a noise behind us and suddenly we were being chased down the hill by these!

After about 20 minutes of walking down the steepest fecking hill in the world I asked SD if we were there yet ....

It seemed NOT.

40 minutests later we arrived in Woolacombe proper.

I was starving and had a huge fry up then we hit the shops for a bit, went for a stroll along the beach (back into that biting wind) and then ...

Yep, back up that fecking hill!

SD, as I've mentioned teaches PE, he's fit ...  he is really fucking fit! 

He can climb verticle hills AND talk at the same time!

I on the other hand, CAN'T!

There he was striding out in front of me waxing lyricle about how beautiful it all was with me panting and gasping for breath in his wake.

'Look', he said, 'you can see Lundy Island really clearly today, have you ever been there?'

WTF SD, you actually expected me to be able to speak??? 

All I could see was red mist and all I could hear was my heart pounding and this kind of rasping sound everytime I tried to breath.

SD turned around to find me face down on the tarmac road inhaling gravel.

I'm going to gloss over the events of the next hours (mostly, to be honest, because they ARE a little hazy).

I do remember a large purple dinosaur though with a 4ft tail, pretty sure it was the lead singer of one of the bands ....

Anyway fudgers, I really need to finish now (although there's LOADS more to tell) because I'm off to Newquay for a few days of fun, frolicking on the sands and surfing.

Failing that I shall be shopping, sipping coffee and stuffing my face.

See you soon.

Actaully, just before I go I thought I'd share another of my 'Top Tips' with you.

Never, and I really do mean NEVER allow teenagers to carve their own pumpkins ....

Photo: Allowing teenagers to carve their own pumpkins - not one of my better ideas ...

Thursday 25 October 2012

I Heart My Body 2012


This is me.

Sarah Mac, a 46 year old mother of three.

One of my FB friends seemed to find this photo of me a little scary, I'm not sure why. 

Maybe there is just a little madness around the eyes .... ;)

But you know what?  I don't care.  I'm not gurning so that's a huge improvement on most of the photos of me!

It's hard to believe that it's been a year since I wrote this post.

Over the last year I've shared my body issues a few times.

My struggle with BDD which occasionally rears it's ugly head when I'm feeling low but which, for the most part, I have overcome.

My constant battle with my weight which had an alarming tendency to drop very quickly.

Again, this is something I am conscious of but it doesn't rule my life as it once did.

What I have learned is that my emotional well being and my physical health are very closely linked and learning to love myself is so important.

This Summer I took a huge step forward with the help of a very special friend and, for the first time in many years, I wore a bikini on the beach AND allowed him to take a photo of me!

I have to say, it wasn't half as scary as the picture in my head.

So yes, I DO love my body because, despite a certain amount of neglect, despite the fact that I've had three children and despite the fact that I'm 46, I think it's holding up pretty well.

  • Monday 22 October 2012

    Five Sentence Fiction - Flawed

    Linking up with Lillie McFerrin for FSF

    Droplet of water sparkled in the air as she combed the tangles from her hair with her fingers until a halo of curls framed her face and tumbled across her bare shoulders.

    As the weak sunlight filtered through the trees  drying the moisture from her limbs a chill breeze from the past swept across her and she shivered.

    Rising slowly she stood tall and proud and, snatching up a mantle of self respect, she threw it about her shoulders, clothing her nakedness with renewed resolve and self belief.

    With each step she took along the path to the future colour seeped back into her skin and her life giving her the strength to place one foot in front of the other.

    One day she would soar high above the path again, colours radiant, the flaws that kept her earthbound were a part of her beauty but they would no longer have the power to keep her tethered to the past.

    Friday 19 October 2012

    Let It Be SD

    SD has one or two OCD tendencies, remember the sock saga?

    He's very much 'a place for everything and everything in it's place' kind of guy totally at odds with his Surfer Dude appearance and generally laid back attitude.

    Me?  Well I'm more 'an under everything there is something' kind of girl.

    It's not that I'm particularly messy.  If I look around right now I'd say my house is fairly tidy.  It's 8:30 on a Friday morning and the beds are made, the breakfast dishes are washed (although not dried) and there's a basket full of washing ready to hang out on the line.

    But, in addition to that there is an eyeliner and and lip gloss on the table next to the sofa, a pair of Miss Macs school trousers hanging over the back of one of the dining room chairs and a jumble of things, keys, earrings etc in the blue glass bowl on the Merchants Chest.  These things do not offend me.

    Miss Mac has a habit of leaving a trail of possessions in her wake.  School blazer tossed on a chair, bag dumped on the floor, books scattered over the table.  This also doesn't particularly offend me, eventually they make their way to their rightful place.

    Remember the kitten who lives behind the fridge ....?

    Well, in the last few days he's obviously decided that we aren't planning on sticking him in the slow cooker and having him for tea and he's become more adventurous.

    Here he is sitting on the coffee table while I type just a couple of feet away (yes that is a little pile of DVDs next to the telly that should be put away ;).

    He's starting to behave like a normal kitten which means that everything is a toy to him.
    Last night Miss Mac left a box of pencils amongst a jumble of things on the dining table and the kitten took a flying leap knocking everything onto the floor.
    SD and I were drinking coffee in the front room at the time and I would have quite happily left the kitten to play until Miss Mac came down and tidied up her own stuff.  I could see SD getting a little twitchy at my slovenliness but I ignored it, I feel it is my path in life  to temper his compulsions so I ignored him and carried on chatting.
    However, when I went to the loo I came back to find him scrabbling under the table, picking up the pencils and putting them in something.
    I watched with some amusement as, putting the last pencil carefully away, he stood up and they all fell back onto the floor.
    SD looked with some consternation at the red and white spotted 'pencil case'   in his hand trying to work out what was going on.
    The look of horror on his face when he realised he was in fact clutching a pair of Miss Mac's boxer style pants was priceless.
    Somehow I don't think he's going to be so keen to tidy up for me in future ...

    Tuesday 16 October 2012

    Setting Fire To The Loo and Other Stuff

    So ...  the other day I set fire to the loo ....

    I know, you're thinking RESPECT right? 

    Well I don't like to boast or anything but Im pretty sure it's not something just anyone could do ....

    Besides, it needs just the right combination of ingredience including:

    A kitten;

    some kitchen roll;

    A saucepan full of homemade passata and...

    Umm, well -  me I guess ;-)

    Actually I was a little surprised that it was possible too.  And no, I wasn't sitting on it at the time and no, it wasn't the result of a vindaloo as was suggested by one of my (ex ;)  FB friends (seriously lowering the tone of my wall like I NEEDED any help with that thankyouverymuch!)

    I actually popped on here to do a little editing to a post I wrote a few days ago and didn't finish called 'My Name Is Sarah' but I decided it was shite so Id do a little waffling instead.

    I've had an 'interesting couple of weeks' - I've been to a party that (after a slow start) turned into the stuff of legends (mostly due to photographic evidence, got to admit, the event itself is a little hazy).

    I've been 20ft up an apple tree which scared the crap out of me but the view was awesome.

    I've been eyed up by a randy bull.

    I've been out with a group of friends to listen to some live music by a band that made the whole pub rock and I've been to an awards evening.

    Now nearly all of those things have had one thing in common:

    Wherever I've gone I've been greeted by cries of 'Your Name Is Sarah!'

    Ok, maybe NOT by the randy bull but he had that look in his eye like he kind of  KNEW me!

    Apart from the fact that I'm getting a complex, I mean, I KNOW my name's  Sarah ok.  I cant help wondering ....

    Who the bloody hell ARE all these people????

    I've been clasped to sweaty chests, I've been kissed and hugged, I've been treated like the prodigal son, I've been shaken around like a bloody cocktail (dance floor at the party where I was literally SUCKED into the midst of some freaky reunion except I swear didn't know anyone) until I was in danger of shooting out of my dress like toothpaste out of a tube *

    I dunno, it's either some kind of conspiracy or I spent a large part of my 20's so hammered I've blocked it out ...

    SD (who has been there on several of these occasions) seems to finds it very funny in a nudge, nudge kind of way and takes great pleasure out of creating scenarios to fit how these people (mostly men ok, I admit it!!) might know me.

    It's freaking me out a little and I'm seriously considering changing my name!

    *note to self - buy longer dress for next party!

    Monday 15 October 2012

    Thinking Aloud

    I've been thinking a bit about how I blog.

    I think erratically pretty much covers it these days ;)

    Last count I had 27 posts in draft dating back over several months all in various stages. Most of them don't deserve to see the light of day to be honest so I may have a clear out but there's some good stuff amongst the dross which just needs a little work.

    In the last few weeks I haven't managed much other than the weekly Five Sentence Fiction posts and while I enjoy the way they really make me think, it isn't really what I and Fudge are all about.

    Anyone who's been following my blog for a while will know that I have a theory that's based around those 'things' that I do and that happen to me.

    My theory is that 'things' happen to everyone, not just to me.  All I do is try to find the humour in them and tell you all about them.

    Obviously I'm not the only person to do this,most of you have your own blogs and own stories to tell but in general, the funny stuff that happens to people just doesn't get heard.

    So, back to my posts in draft.  My collection of stories that haven't been heard.  I'm going to do a little revisiting, see what I can salvage, remind myself and you that these things still happen and that I can still see the funny side of life.

    And what about the future ....  Well, what I'd like to do is to carry on with FSF, it's a great discipline for a rambler like me and, at the same time, I'm going to try a weekly update on what Ive been up to with special 'guest' posts for anything that deserves a space of it's own.

    Finally, I found a great humour blog through some convoluted blog hopping which has a limerick challenge every week.  I love a bit of poetry and limericks suit my style so I'm going to give it a bash every now and then.

    I think a bit of structure is what my blog needs, actually, not just my blog but me as well so let's see how it goes ...