You know how it is when you get a song stuck in a groove in your head and I have ‘Promises’, Eric Clapton, going round on permanent loop at the moment.

On the subject of tunes, I downloaded – I don’t know how I can publicly admit to this but it’s too late to worry about what people think now – Dragostea Din Tei. For those who don’t know the title, it’s the numa numa song. I am such a music slut; I bop to any old rubbish! But it is great on the iPod at 7.30 am on the long walk to work – so there.

I am out on parole at the moment. A day off – for good behaviour. I have spent the whole day – more or less – in the kitchen making soup and bread and mince pies. I have had a lovely play with all my pots and pans and it has been very productive.

We tried to sit down and work out who exactly we have invited round for our ‘at home’ but we lost track a bit, so if anyone’s passing we have soup and bread and mince pies (including a rather yummy fruit soup with toasted marshmallows). And crumpets are good fun too so long as there is plenty of butter dripping through the fingers.

I am not at all pleased with Tesco and their complete failure to provide me with sufficient quantities of carrots today. Carrot stocks were zilch, not even a baton. There were acres of chocolate and tons of mincemeat so obviously everyone has gone overboard on the carrots instead. Very healthy, and they clearly were not buying them for dipping purposes as there were so many dip packs on sale it was starting to feel a bit creepy. Turn another corner and there they were again – the dips. Yards of them.

I guess it is time to look into New Year thoughts, aspirations, and aims. So with that in mind I shall cast a look back at what I had in mind at the beginning of this year…..

Seven things I’d have more chance of achieving in 2006…..

1 – Learn something new…….anything – I learned new dances, I think that must count
2 – Improve life drawing and get someone to pose nude…preferably……. - He wouldn’t!
3 – Sell one my books, or 10, or at least half…. – None but I sold some Betty Sticks, and some boxes
4 – Get away from it all…..even if only for a day – I did get away a couple of times but not quite as away from it all as I expected
5 – Motor independence….I will do it…….one day – I got the number plate now, I’m getting there
6 – Do one thing I never did before…..ever – danced in a night-club, danced on stage at Jack-in-the-Green, danced out in public on Boxing Day
7 – Grow bigger melons – I didn’t grow any at all

I think I might have to be a bit more realistic next time; the whole melons thing was just never going to happen.

Although now I come to think of it I have done stuff this year that has been quite exciting in its own way. All I can really hope for is that next year is at least equally interesting.

I wish I knew what had happened to my Christmas appetite. All this chocolate and I can’t get remotely excited. I have forced a few pieces in – well you have to don’t you – but I am not relishing it with my usual gusto. I haven’t had much appetite for almost a week and it is starting to worry me!

I think it was worrying Katie as well because she just brought in a mouse to try and tempt me with a dainty morsel.

The mother-in-law returns to Trojan Horse tomorrow and not a moment too soon. There are not so many ways to entertain a guest down on the Sussex Riviera in the middle of winter once Christmas is shredded into a few bin bags and packed into the dusty bin that won’t get emptied until the bin boys have got through their cases of ale. In the summer she can be tumbled into a deck chair in the sunshine but indoors she is getting perilously close to the end of our gin supply and the sherry situation was dicey from the start.

But it’s all good larks and that, and this side of the bank holiday I am a mellower creature. There have been some interesting distractions over the last week. Finding out that the mad lady GP over the road has been slapped with an ASBO was a rib-tickler. Not very funny really for the unfortunate neighbour who has been subjected to her unbelievable repertoire of gutter vocab but certainly a fine bit of gossip to dangle over the sweet sherry and mince pies.

Dancing out in Hastings was another high spot for me. Bells akimbo. Followed by an afternoon defrosting in a fine haze of alcohol in one of the merry hostelries of the town. Beats watching the telly at the same time as bulging the belt buckle with yet another wad of unnecessary calories.

And finally managing to get a vegetable rack that fits into the wee gap between the fridge and cupboard – and for only £5.00 in Woolworths.

I have 44p left in the bank, and just a few coppers left in my purse. Until payday I am poorer than the proverbial church mouse but oddly satisfied by that. And I am a lot more alive than the poor wee thing that Katie brought me.

So…..cheers………here’s to………it all!

Happy Christmas to one and all!

Gin!

I was standing in the queue at Tesco last night – at about twenty minutes before it turned into today. It was not a short queue and it was taking about half-hour to reach the checkout and be processed and not a single mince pie was on offer, no mulled wine either, in fact the only Christmassy aspect was that half the customers were crackers. Crackers for being there in the first place – which is obviously why I was there as well. It was a family outing in fact, my parents and my sister were going to go carol singing but thought we could have a jolly Crimbo outing to Tesco instead. I think they could have been a tiny bit more festive there – would it really have hurt their Christmas profits to offer us a sausage roll.

I was on my last legs by then and I could have eaten a small horse, or even a donkey but I had to make do with sitting on the floor and drinking some of my shopping.

In a while I have to go out and help a bunch of hyper-Christmassed childer put together some gingerbread persons. How on earth I got into that I shall never know. Perhaps it was an absence moment! Then we have a tea party involving elderly aunts and salmon sandwiches.

Between us the girlie and I have probably made about a couple of hundred biscuits/cakes/sweetie treats etc. over the past few days for friends and family and the last batch (ginger biscuits) is still perfuming the air with the most enticing spicy aroma. It smells so deliciously Christmassy I think I should write to Tesco and suggest it as something they could try next year for when I am queuing up in the middle of the night with a stuffed trolley doing my bit for their profit margins.

Work is over for a few days, thank Christmas. The share-out has turned into the usual round of snipes. In the last ten years – have just achieved my ten year anniversary at the hallowed place – there has been the inevitable bun fight of the Christmas share-out to look forward to. No-one who has ever master-minded the wretched business has ever managed to do it in a way that pleases everyone and this year the long knives are out big-time.

I must explain a little for those who have no idea of what I speak – so that would be the majority of readers I guess. I work in a surgery and at Christmas time the sweeter and more charming amongst the older patients bring in tins of sweets and biscuits and all manner of fine things. I don’t quite know why but then I don’t see a lot of my own doctor from one years end to the next so buying the fellow a present has never occurred to me, let alone buying the reception staff a whole tin of fattening biscuits. But although the tradition is beginning to run drier over the years as these lovely people die away and leave all the mean bastards who don’t bring prezzies there is still enough stuff coming in for each member of staff to have at least three items. Or at least there would be if fair shares for all came into the equation. Unfortunately it never seems to work out fair to everyone’s way of thinking. What is sauce for the goose is sometimes piss and water for the gander etc.

I had the honour of organising the share-out for a couple of years when the previous organiser decided she couldn’t take the criticism anymore and watched me with gleeful anticipation hoping I would be crucified as she had been before me. If I was I didn’t know about it but I was scrupulously fair and nobody really likes that, it’s just too… too…democratic. And when a pecking order is involved you can’t treat everyone the same – apparently. Someone who has served a longer sentence could be deemed more worthy of the more expensive and select morsels than the Johnny-come-lately who has only just been banged up. I just did my bit and happily handed over the messy affair to another equally egalitarian soul who also ignored the snipes but she too has been relegated to the bench and this year the curtain came up on a whole new arena of conflict. Our satellite surgery became the main building and the original site has become the smaller branch. The smaller one gets more presents and fair shares for all went out the window as the skeleton crew up that end decided to keep all the top goodies for themselves.

Oh it’s all so delightfully petty and divisive. Christmas is just great for good-will amongst men – it’s the bloody women that are the problem. I am not complaining about my allotted items as I think I did rather well to come out of it with some nice biscuits but not all are happy.

These biscuits will torment me as it is with their multiple calories. Hey ho it’s Christmas again.

I’ve popped in here for a rest.

It is mayhem downstairs and I have slunk upstairs to collect my thoughts and generally let all my bits and pieces and sag and slump.

I have tried to force a few morsels past my lips but unfortunately I snacked while preparing the profiteroles – on profiteroles, on chocolate sauce that got on my fingers, on cream that dripped, etc, etc, you get the picture. Consequently I can’t really find room for the chicken and broccoli pasta that would be so much better for my curves which are already in Christmas Crisis. One more mince pie and we could be looking at pretty tents in the New Year.

My girlie is entertaining her friends with some after dinner games. She asked me for dice and cards and there is a lot of noise going on, but it is happy noise so I’m not complaining. Her dinner party – where I do the cooking for ten and then clutter off to my room – seems to have gone ok. To be honest I have really enjoyed making a meal that I then don’t have to push round my plate and pretend to want to eat. I never want to eat a meal once I have spent all day preparing it so this has been a chance to enjoy the cooking part with none of that messy eating it afterwards. If my career involved a lot of preparing food I would be a couple of dress sizes smaller but probably malnourished as well.

Tomorrow, and most of the tomorrows after that for several weeks, are packed to the gills with stuff. Busy stuff. I think I need some Red Bull…………..

Friday night I found myself in a very close fitting sailor suit playing a lad called Percy in a short Victorian melodrama. One of my co-‘stars’ kept getting out his pork luncheon meat to show me and there was generally a lot of merriment. It’s one way of whiling away a Friday evening without having to consume too much in the way of alcohol or spend too much cash on having a laff. But then it is easy to have a good time if you can let your hair down easily.

What it did make me aware of though is that it is getting very close to Christmas. People kept saying Happy Christmas and handing out cards. I am so far behind. I thought watching the however-many-it-was greatest Christmas moments last night would help me feel inspired but I think that it’s more likely a few more frosts like the one on the outhouse roof today might make me feel more Christmassy. It is so pretty and all the moss bumps are like miniature snow covered hills.

The Pogues should help as well.

Whenever I get a little too hung up on something I decide it must be time for a new hobby. This has meant I have ended up with thousands (slight exaggeration but only slight) of hobbies and pastimes and not enough fecking time to do it all. I think a new approach might be needed. A mind enema perhaps would be the way to go.

I sat at work today for a few hours in just my underwear (black), a see-through top and long black boots. It sounds way more interesting than it was. I was fortunate enough to be working alone on the first floor and could keep the door closed while I dried my rain-soaked clothes on the radiators. It wasn’t raining when I left the house and it wasn’t raining when I arrived at work but somewhere along the half-hour walk it chucked it down. It happens. To me too often.

I think perhaps I should look into some waterproof trousers for those less clement looking days but the trouble is the whole sorry business is forgotten by the time I’ve dried out and it seems such a mundane thing to spend money on. Ebay maybe.

I’m still disabled by extreme lethargy. Although to be fair I did work for a long portion of the day and without a great deal in the way of sustenance so that may well be accounting for the slight feeling of tiredness. But I always feel an evening in should be an opportunity to get on with all the little things I want to do. Sewing, drawing, writing, washing up, rowing. Evenings in are so rare that I store all these little want-to’s up and then can’t manage it all and feel disappointed. I could of course just try and learn to relax and chill…..

The girlie’s current favourite advert was just on, the one for the National Lottery where the house lights up to a merry tune. The ‘light’ houses are springing up all over the place now that we are actually embroiled in December although I did see the first one just about the end of November. Even though I find it disturbing that so much energy is wasted on a few Christmas lights it still manages to be a draw and a fascination.

I was telling a colleague about the ‘good old days’ when our favourite department store had a sleigh ride to Santa’s grotto. A proper moving up and down contraption and they made it feel like we left the store and really went to a magic place. Now that was worth paying for. These plastic gingerbread houses with a hot sweaty Santa and a sack full of plastic tat are so not worth a coin but I guess I’m not a child now and I know it’s not real.

I am still enough of a child at heart though to be enchanted – a little too easily at times admittedly but I think I prefer being a bit short on cynicism at times, it wouldn’t hurt more people to stand and gaze at the beauty of the sky on an winter’s afternoon.

Flat, or dull. The thesaurus cites the following synonyms

banal, blah, bland, blind, bombed, boring, colourless, dead, dim, drab, draggy, flavourless, ho hum, inane, innocuous, insipid, jejune, lacklustre, lead balloon, lifeless, mat, monotonous, muted, pointless, prosaic, prosy, sapless, spiritless, stale, tasteless, tedious, uninteresting, unpalatable, unsavoury, unseasoned, vanilla, vapid, watery, weak.

Basically I feel a bit vanilla at the moment.

Having said that we had our Christmas ‘do’ the other day and that was also distinctly vanilla. No added spice. It was a bland-o affair. And it wasn’t just me that thought it. Perhaps it’s a bit of a vanilla time of year.

But it shouldn’t be, it should be the jolly run-up-to-Christmas season with merry moments and sparkly sprinkles of seasonal sweetness.

I was never terribly keen on vanilla as a flavour for ice cream. Mind you that is probably something to do with the old chocoholism which set in at an early age.

I don’t really know why everything is so vanilla. It just is.

Hey ho.

Sitting here on a Friday night, curled up on the settee, in a cosy djellaba, outside of a Bailey’s…………..and absolutely covered in pussy hair – which may well explain why I wake up every morning all sneezy and nose-runny.

Last post was the 19th – when was that? Five days ago! And what have I done. Tooooo many things. And what have I failed to do. Toooooooooo toooooooooooo many things.

Suffice to say it has been a busy week and it looks like all the weeks over the next month are going to be much the same. I’m tired already, in anticipation.

Tonight we were dancing out, on the streets of Bexhill, which were buzzing with more people than I have ever seen in this town. There were a vast proportion of teenagers gradually intoxicating themselves and being really, really stoooopid – one group of girls (looked about 13/14, if that) actually got the press photographer to photograph them, chilling round a lamppost and all holding a can of something. Their parents should be really proud when that comes out next week.

Morris dancers are the butt of many jokes and are quite accustomed to being ridiculed and heckled but I was quite reassured tonight by the stick in my hand when we were swamped by an almost malevolent group of teens. Our musician said the edge was thrilling but then he is a man! When I first started dancing out in public I kept forgetting to smile because I was concentrating so hard but I’m starting to loosen up a bit now and accept that I look a prat anyway so I might as well look like happy one.

I woke from a dream this morning that was so nice I have spent the day cursing the waking up. Isn’t that always the way. Just when you’re starting to enjoy something you wake up.

Something purple within 5 feet of you:
Mouse Mat

How long can you hold your breath underwater?
Never timed it although I sometimes thought about it after watching Local Hero because Peter Capaldi does that in the bath. But of course I have bubble bath and it would get in my eyes and………..rambling again.

The weirdest thing you've ever heated in the microwave?
I don’t put weird stuff in there, it would be silly.

How much Japanese do you know?
None

Sparkly things?
I like sparkly things

Ever crash a car, been in accidents?
I don’t drive. I went into the back of a car when I was riding my bike – aged 16 – broke my two front teeth.

Do you look good in yellow?
Not really

Do you sing?
Indeed

Ever sang in front of a crowd?
Still do from time to time but not to a huge, huge crowd

Do you dance?
Morris. Pull the other one it’s got bells on – yes it has!

Is your hair long enough to chew on?
Yes, if I pull the curls out straight.

Least favourite colour?
All colour is groovy, it’s black and white that’s dull.

Favourite kind of pizza?
Anything with mushrooms, I love mushrooms.

Ever had Dippin' Dots?
No

Ever played an instrument?
Piano, very poorly, for about a month. Piano Accordion, very poorly for about a month. Recorder, very poorly, for about a month. You get the picture……

Do you own your own car?
Nope. I do own a moped though.

What kind of car is it?
It isn’t, it’s a moped…..it’s silver.

Do you want to get married?
It’s rather fun but I have had two shots at it now so it would be a bit greedy.

At what age do you want to have kids?
Been there done that, I was 19 & 25

How many kids?
Two, one of each, what more could I ask!

Mission – Purchase a 3-seater sofa, a 2-seater sofa less than 5’ wide (and to match the 3-seater) and a sofa bed, on a buy-now-pay-June deal, with delivery in time for Christmas.

Mission Impossible.

We have managed to get the first two items on the right finance deal but not delivered until after December so we decided to go for the sofas anyway and just sit on each other at Christmas which is at least friendly. We ordered the sofas in a lovely rich red which is apparently going to be the big colour next year so we’re ahead of the game. Like I give a flying fart about fashion, if I wanted to be trendy I’d be getting a leather one. But I won’t sit on an animal – unless it’s the cat and by mistake.

We have to go on another tour at the weekend to find some kind of sleeping facility for the house guest we have at Christmas. A hammock it might have to be. Isn’t there something about hanging a leg over the side?

And it was a right mucky day too to be going about the country looking for furniture.

Hey ho, I’m off out dancing tonight which will hopefully pick me up and even if it doesn’t do that it will wipe anything else out of my head.

Like why on earth men…

I was talking to someone the other day who likes her own company and doesn’t feel she needs a man in her life particularly. I said that’s because although men need women, women don’t need men. Not really. Well not once you get past the baby-making part of life. All a woman really needs is chocolate, a good vibrator and a screwdriver. It’s probably best not to spill the Screwdriver on the vibrator though, I’m a Cosmopolitan girl myself.

Katie is glaring at me because she thinks there is room on my lap for a laptop and a lapcat. Not so – I’m not that big. And the laptop wins for the moment, I need to unwind.

An hour’s walk to work. A day at work. An hour’s walk home. An evening taking photos. I’m tired.

But unfortunately not sleepy.

My mind has been focused on stuff all day and I need to let it flop out and relax for a bit.

There it is – all flopped out all over the place and watching Save the Last Dance. I like a bit of dancing and romancing in a film.

“Ah the Cuban lad – he gave us a video.” Father Dougal

There was a guy, in Guys and Dolls, doing a bit of Cuban dancing. Mucho sexio.

I’m just rambling away through some thoughts and trying to avoid the more futile stuff and find a way to the goofy stuff.

Wise cracks = clever bums = intelligent rectums.

What is wrong with some people? You don’t expect to go to the theatre and sit behind someone who spends the whole time complaining – audibly – and folding their arms instead of applauding. And these were mature people! Mature, my eye, I think that sort of behaviour is not only rude but also immensely childish. I wanted to lean forward and tell him what an ignorant dick he was but you can’t stoop to their level! Fortunately he didn’t return for the second half.

The girlie and I have noticed how chirpy all the staff are in our local Sainsbury’s, they are so friendly and chatty – we do live in the South East remember which is not an area overly renowned for that. And today ‘Chris’ was excelling himself in the charm department with a most charming comment about myself and my ‘sister’ which managed not to offend my daughter because she didn’t hear it.

Today I did something I haven’t done in ages, I fell asleep on the settee and boy did it make feel groggy. It’s amazing how a little nap like that can throw your body clock about all over the place. So that is why I’m still farting about on here at midnight.

One must follow one’s star to wherever it leads - a line from Death on the Nile just now.

I’m not entirely sure about this whole ‘following’ business, I think it might be an idea to get in front of it and lead the way. Following one’s star sounds like a very indolent approach to life really. And a cop out! If you follow your star I guess you can always blame that if life doesn’t deal you the cards you want. One of the meme’s recently had a question about regrets but regrets are pointless. I don’t quite know where this is leading so I think it best to change topic as I don’t feel in an overly serious and philosophical frame of mind.

It must be about time for a cup of tea. English Breakfast. And possibly a small amount of chocolate. We have some chocolates here that are ridiculously small and a bit of an insult really.

I am rambling a bit really because my thoughts are elsewhere.

Had my last swim for a few weeks. I pop down to the pool in my lunch hour on a Friday but the pool is closing next week for a while to refurbish. And not a moment too soon either, last week I had to move my stuff in and out of three lockers because they were all fecked. I wouldn’t mind as much if it didn’t mean taking my glasses off and putting them back on each time. I’ve also had to change cubicles a few times because the locks are disintegrating. I really wouldn’t want someone else flinging open the door to my cubicle and being presented with a nudey Jojo. Not nice.

I seem to have had such a busy week. Yesterday I had to go out for a walk in the park and collect 2 bagfuls of leaves for the girlies play, Intimations of Hades, at college. So that shows just how busy I am.

I was half-watching Neighbours yesterday - it isn’t a good idea to wholly watch it in case your brain melts – and at one point Harold said he was just going to ‘polish his tuba’. It made me laugh – a lot, almost enough to fall off sofa and I have witnesses! I have never heard it called that before…

The programme for one of the playlets I watched at girlie’s college yesterdays had this on the bottom ‘Little Green is also the title of a song written by Joni Mitchell about her baby daughter who she had adopted at the age of twenty-one.’ Now I admit I know very little about the Adoption Laws across the pond but even there they surely don’t have twenty-one-year-olds being adopted.

I am shortly going to re-dress myself, i.e. change my clothes, because I am popping out to listen to some live music. Dead music is never as popular because it has a dirgeful quality. It should be a suitably mellow end to the week and a chance to catch up with old friend. Well she isn’t old, although she is slightly older than me. I was thinking about age earlier. When I started working where I work now – ten years ago, must be coming up for parole soon – I was a tender 33. At the time I was not the youngest member of staff as there were a couple of others who were a few years younger, and quite a few others at that time were only a few years older than me. Ten years later I am 43 – very good maths you see – and there are still not very many who are younger than me and in fact only two are under 40. So I think it must be true that 40 is the new 30 and presumably in another ten years 50 will be the new 30 so I could perhaps stay 30 forever. Aw neat!

I started the day with drilling a few holes in my sheep. As you do.

And also a hole for the knob for the fairy door.

Then there was a whole bunch of other little jobs to do and I feel a real sense of satisfaction that they all got done.

I even had time to spend a little snatch planning my upcoming art project. I have just joined an art group and it has given me an incentive at last to work on something artistic. I sent an email round at work yesterday asking for models for some photos and was surprised and extremely pleased with the response so that has spurred me on to organise myself.

I need a bit of direction at times.

Not that I’m short of projects.

In fact on the subject of short, I realised today how short I am when I had to climb onto a chair to get at a box on top of a cupboard and I still couldn’t reach.

The fairy door is not for me actually this time; it’s for a present for someone. We were quite surprised to find that when the girlie googled ‘fairy door’ in images my blog pic from ages ago was on the first page.

And the sheep are for the toilet wall and they have little faces and legs made of black cord with knots for feet. I think they are quite funky really. My daughter’s friend said I should open my house for paid public inspection, she said she would definitely pay to visit my lavvy. I don’t know if she meant spend a penny.

I feel something I haven’t felt for ages, a sense of purpose.

I dare say it won’t last.

Passengers waiting for the 18.10 to Battle – for the Bonfire event – gaped in disbelief as a young man, perilously short on brain cells, nipped off the platform, jumped neatly over the tracks and onto the platform the other side. A foolish enough action in any case but an especially dumb idea to do it in front of two burly policemen. Battle was quite full of people, many of whom had taken the precaution of filling themselves with some form of alcoholic beverage to protect them from the cold and also to protect them from behaving in a sober and sensible way. My little brood for the evening consisted of three young ladies aged 17 to 18 - who drank only coke btw - and enjoyed themselves in a quiet, unobtrusive way but it was very cold. Very, very cold.

I was impressed that in a dark street I was able to spot an old friend I hadn’t seen for ages even though she had her face all blacked out but it always surprises me that in packed and crowded streets there is often the chance of unexpectedly bumping into someone you know. It was very cold though.

We only stayed for the procession but managed to enjoy a lot of the fireworks from the bench at the railway station which was probably a better view than we would have had in town. It was very, very cold at the station.

I think I have probably emphasised the cold aspect of the evening but not over-emphasised it!

It’s being an odd sort of day today, slightly disgruntly, really, but with segments of OKness to balance it out.

Went to shop. Went to shop to buy boots (unlike Helly who went to Boots to buy, etc… ). I had been eyeing up these dang boots for nearly a month but had to wait for payday. On Saturday (pre-Payday) I saw they had my size in and there were loads so I planned to go in today with my pennies. I went in and there were only size 5’s left so I wandered away in disappointment. I perused other boot retail opportunities and found something very similar in Next, AND £5 cheaper. I then bought myself a shirt for work. I had only been in a few more shops when I discovered I had lost the bag with the shirt. Then I got shooed out of Debenhams because there was a fire drill so I had to go and get a cup of coffee – and I couldn’t find the milk so I had it black, yuck. Went back to the shops I had been in and asked if anyone had turned in a shirt in a bag. They had it in Debenhams, which gave me immense relief. Then I tried on a mega expensive dress and felt depressed because it was 14 and rather a close fit only to discover when I took it off it was a 12 (I don't mind being a chunky 12 but I don't want to be a chunky 14 - again).I didn’t really like any of the sandwiches on offer in the whistle stop shop so I ended up giving a lot of the one I bought to a young seagull. So it was a bit of an uppy downy morning really.

I keep sneezing too, which is never a good sign.

And they just had that Dogs Trust ad on which makes my throat lumpy.

And on the way home on the train I thought I saw a lion in a patch of grass but it turned out to be a small pony.

I wonder what to do next.

Witch

Well there it was. My vindication at last. I allowed my children to watch practically anything they liked, within reason of course. I would probably have been slated for letting them watch endless regurgitations of the likes of Carry On films but at last it has been proved of some value. In a game of trivial pursuit my little babe was able to provide the correct answer to ‘Where does tiffin come from?’ and her source was the often viewed Carry On up the Khyber. My maternal pride is mixed with uproarious amusement. It’s still tickling me. So who said I was too laissez-faire!

I was so depressed today, it was grim and dark, the sky was surly and grey, I was feeling very broke and I am at the end of a week’s holiday that has failed to live up my expectations…..and I think I might be getting a cold. Hastings station is not an uplifting place for that mood I can tell you so I am glad to be back home, outside of a G & T and with some interesting munchies inside my tumkin. Instead of a meal we have had a plateful of snacks and dips and it made a nice change. They do some very yummy Moroccan butternut squash parcels in M & S btw.

The correct way to light a match is to strike away from oneself so how, when I was doing it correctly, did I manage to catch my hair alight.

Tablets have now come into the equation (see previous post). I have called for back up, as I’m on my own this morning.

Sylvester regarded the advice of the vet - re going back for a second round while he is covered by antibiotics – as a challenge, and he does like a challenge. He deliberately, it seems to me, went out to look for several of the members of the Black Nemesis Gang from next door so he could slap them across the cheek with his glove. His last fight cost me nearly £70 so I might have to suggest that if he wants to make a habit of this fighting lark he will have to start looking for a part-time job to supplement our income.

I had thought that my staying home for a few days when everyone thought I would be away would be peaceful, this is still my holiday after all and if I was abroad I wouldn’t be able to do this, that and everything else so why shouldn’t I escape my responsibilities for a couple of days. It doesn’t work like that though. If people know I am at home they think I have nothing better to do with my time – I vant to be left alone! Well, at best I don’t want to deal with everyday business. Actually the more I think about it the crosser I feel.

I’d better go get some coffee before this runs into a long grumble.

Ok so I am a bit bored at the moment. I should have been heading north with my family but I have to stay home and mind the cat. It was the devil's own job getting him into the cat basket this morning to go to the vet and I have to take him back tomorrow. His mouth is sore but it hasn't stopped him wolfing down tuna and his sore shoulder didn't stop him putting up the most ridiculous fight about getting into the box. His yowling was deafening all the way, while at the vets and all the way back and he bucks about so much it is hard work carrying him. I am just thankful that so far tablets have not come into the equation.

So finding myself with a whole different game plan for a few days I have mended an old telephone (prop for a play), painted a couple of over-sized dice (prop for a play), cleaned the bathroom (I needed to after painting the dice) and bought myself some essentials for the next couple of days (as I'm not being fed elsewhere).

So I thought I would indulge in one of these to pass a little bit of time...

1) Where did you take your default pic?
I drawed it, scanned it, then abobe photoshopped it.
2) What exactly are you wearing right now?
Jeans, grey hoodie
3) What is your current problem?
I have no problem currently
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Chapter 1:
1) Middle name: Laura
2) Current place: Home, but a good place for a currant is a bun
3) Eye colour: Blue. Both btw.
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Chapter 2:
1) Do you live with your parents?: I haven’t done for more than twenty years
2) Do you get along with your parent(s)?: I do, they’re quite mad so it works
3) Are your parents married/separated/divorced?: Still married – 47 years
4) Do you have any siblings?: I do.
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Chapter 3: Favourite...
1) Ice Cream: Chocolate, with chocolate bits, and chocolate sauce.
2) Season: of mists and mellow fruitfulness
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Chapter 4: Do You..
1) Write on your hand: No, it would be most untidy.
2) Call people back: Hm, if I don’t get sidetracked
3) Believe in love: and it’s many complications, yes.
4) Sleep on a certain side of the bed: I sleep on my side, the other side is occupied
5) Have any bad habits? Quite a few
6) Any mental health issues? I think I am pretty normal, most people think I’m mad.
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Chapter 5: Have You....
1) Broken a bone: One in my foot, just before the run of a play so I had to do it all on crutches
2) Sprained stuff?: More than a dozen times.
3) Got stitches: I had stitches a couple of times, I had two children
4) Taken painkillers?: I would have but the paracetamol
5) Gone SCUBA diving or snorkelling: No, but maybe one day
6) Been stung by a bee? Once or twice, it isn’t nice, I swell up bad, it makes me mad.
7) Thrown up at the dentist: Eugh.
8) Sworn in front of your parents: Oh yes, although not at them….yet.
9) Been sent to the principal's office: Erm, I’m sure a good little person like myself wouldn’t do that!
10) Been expelled? Gracious no.
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Chaper 6: Who/What was the last....
1) Person you called: Sister
2) Person you hugged: My baby
3) Thing you ate: A slice of bread
4) Thing you drank: Cup of tea
5) Time you cried: Last night, in bed, because the cat was hurt
6) Wished on a star: When I was younger and still had hope.

I should be going away for a few days to