In the middle of a busy and full weekend. However, we have found a window to watch Miss Marple.

Oh my garden is so beautiful. I have nothing whatever to do with that and I don’t mean beautiful in a Groundforce type way. I have had very little time to spend in my garden lately and it just gets on and does its own thing. It is an abundance of verdant loveliness. The lawn needs cutting and the weeds are marching triumphantly along the flower beds but in spite of that the whole garden looks like an impressionist painting, gloriously disorganised and rampantly colourful. It frequently assaults my deep seated Virgoan hankering for order and neatness but gardens should never be like that. While I was showing some friends round earlier I made apologetic excuses for the wild look of the place and wondered why I feel the need to do that. It is so much more beautiful than it would be without the fantastic zingy yellow of the celandines and dandelions. There is an acer hidden halfway up the garden in amongst the undergrowth, a youngster, only a few years in the sod. I forget it’s there but I noticed it in passing today and the leaves, just out, feel like silk, so thin and soft and delicate.

I’m always transported by my patch of heaven.

Yesterday was quite busy with a tea for the cricket club – don’t ask! A rather fun addition to the palette of our lives. Then I tripped off to a ceilidh in the evening – a big event in the Morris May Day weekend. The Jack in the Green event is a four day succession of Morris dancing displays, ceilidhs, and concerts. A lot of bells and ribbons are out there, a lot of beer is drunk and a lot of people get very warm and sweaty and ENJOY themselves. A load of other stuff has got in the way this weekend for me so I haven’t seen quite so much of it all as I could have done but then I like variety so I like the pot pourri that this weekend has been.

Today some friends came down from Cambridge for lunch – which was nice. Followed by a rehearsal in the afternoon and a quiet solo walk in the park. Then family dinner. Enough to take my mind off the full horror of what awaits me tomorrow? – sadly not.

It is very chilly out when the sun goes behind the clouds so I’m expecting to get cold tomorrow. Not to mention bleddy wet as the forecast is for rain. Perhaps I should have a large glass of something for my breakfast…………….

My mother called this morning to ask if I could just pop into town on the way home from work and see if I could get a helmet as she was having to spend the morning writing a short story about a fat man called Matthew. So just another regular day.

Not a bicycle helmet you understand, or even a policeman’s helmet, no nothing as simple as that. She’s after a helmet as worn by Dulle Griet in the painting by Breughel. Not for herself you understand, it’s for costume for the play.

It is so good to put my feet up and feel the warmth of my now familiar evening time companion on my lap. Not lover, not even cat…………my laptop.

I don’t know if regular readers remember me mentioning the beardiness of Morris men and I was demonstrating that not all Morris men have beards by saying that of our five musicians only four have beards. Well the fifth now has a beard.

I bought my little girlie some gifts in town – I got paid today so it’s allowed – a 99p jigsaw in Oxfam and a large bar of expensive chocolate. She is quite happy. I know how to splash out and treat my babies.

The other one was in Canterbury cathedral earlier on. And no, he isn’t taking holy orders. In fact taking orders doesn’t come easily to him at all. At the moment he is hugely embarrassed, mortified, ashamed of his mother’s predilection for dancing with jingling bell adornments so he will NOT be going anywhere near any part of the country I may be in, stick-banging, hanky-waving and generally looking like a May Day disaster area. I understand. He’s a sensitive soul. Men can so conservative!

Ooooooh, I just remembered I was given my P45 today……….

I have something irritating my nose – I keep sneezing. It’s upsetting the cat, her ears are pinned right back.

I am going to have little grumble here I’m afraid so for those of a sensitive nature please cover your ears. It’s work again. I have so far spent about half of my hours doing other peoples jobs this week because loads of people are off sick but I offered my services ungrudgingly. Now, I am not actually permitted to do paid overtime – too high-powered you see – so I just lose my own work time and end up working in my own time to catch up. But I recently discovered that there are members of staff who could do the job properly and get paid for doing so but they just don’t feel like doing it. . Ok so I’m being a little unreasonable, after all it’s my choice I guess. I shall have to learn to say ‘no’ I think, or at least ‘not unless you start paying me’. End of grumble.

Been dancing tonight but didn’t do much dancing in fact. They are getting ready for the engagements over the bank holiday weekend and I’m not doing any of them as I’m dancing with the other side I belong to. It is getting a bit complicated belonging to two sides but quite a few of the dancers manage to dance with other groups so it can be done. It does mean having two different outfits though. I shall be having to get another waistcoat, in pink and purple. I may need to build another wardrobe. I’m also not sure I should keep leaving the girlie at home with access to Ebay – I just got home and had to pay for a new bag for her. She says she neeeeeeds it.

The dancing wasn’t the only activity of the evening while I was out. The side make a man of twigs – called Twiggy, oddly enough – which has to be ‘mounted’ outside the pub we frequent. Twiggy had been given a very large penis (it was made by some guys – surprise, surprise) and during the ‘mounting’ ceremony – pun intended – the landlord applied a condom to the appropriate part of Twiggy’s anatomy. He was then christened with beer. I think I shall get to really enjoy Morris dancing……

I have achieved 400 things on my daily goal list. Ok a slight exaggeration but I feel like I have.

Not the least of my achievements today was actually finishing Attention All Shipping. I have been reading it so long it now has its own room with en suite shower. There was a permeating feeling of dampness as most of the places he visited seemed to have permanent precipitation. However, it was a very comfy read and as soothing as the Shipping Forecast itself but vastly more humorous.

Time After Time, Cyndi Lauper – currently going round the brain.

I also found time to sort out my baskets. I have a bunch of baskets with stuff in. Stuff like wool, fabric, half finished sewing projects, notebooks, pens. All jumbled together in a tangly mess. Well not any longer, I tipped them all out and sorted them back Very satisfying to organise them all tidily. In addition to that I spent a most satisfying half-hour unravelling a ball of wool. How good could a day get?

Did lunch – with mother – very pleasant. The Pavlova Miramar at the Miramar tea rooms on Bexhill seafront is well worth trying. The fruit is always so fresh and crisp.
And shopping. We hit a few charity shops looking for costume items for the play. The usual kind of entertainment. Mother saying in a very audible voice ‘I want to go somewhere else, it smells in here’ and then throwing her change all over the floor of the next.

I got a BNWT top for £2 – ace.

Ok so I did some important stuff too but I haven’t got all night!

I even made chocolate buns to take to rehearsal. They had a secret in the middle. You may take guesses…….

Pretty innit.....

Just another diamond day.

Sharp wind and cold, cold, cold. As I was walking home today my hands went the most beautiful shade of purple. The problem was I casted a clout too early. I also had another irritation on the long walk home. It was rainy so I put up the umbrella I had amazingly had the foresight to pack in my bag – still can’t believe I was that organised! – and as I rounded a corner a strong gust of wind whipped the top right off the umbrella and it went rolling back along the path. Boy did I look dumb standing there with just a handle.

I got home nice and early so I could finish my waistcoat – it is finished. Done and dusted. Well…not dusted, it wasn’t dusty. A bit hairy maybe, where Katie sat on it.

Less than a week now until we dance out and a bad attack of nerves is becoming apparent. Usual signs, snappy, distracted and really bad heartburn. I still get nervous about acting and I’ve done it for 25 years, the singing recently knocked me out nerves-wise for ages but this is a biggy. Plays, we get audiences of seldom in excess of a hundred but this is thousands of people, hundreds of thousands even - watching a load of weirdoes in bells jiggling and jingling their way through Hastings. Now I know why they drink so much beer.

Try to take my mind off it with other distractions. Easier said than done. I neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed chocolate.

I remember someone telling me that he used to frequent a pub in his home town and one day he noticed how everyone knew him, he had become part of the fixtures and fittings and that was when he felt it was time to move on. As soon as something had become a habit it was boring so he moved on. Didn’t want to get stuck in a rut. At the time I was rather offended to be one of many ruts he didn’t want to get into but I was thinking the other day that life is rather like that anyway for some people. Forever restless, forever moving on. Don’t know what made me think of that. Perhaps because I have lived in this house for longer than I have ever lived anywhere else – 9 years. I feel kind of restless but it isn’t the house. Just my age I suppose. And older people tell me I will just get over this phase and come to accept things are as they are. Oh sorry, I was just rambling away to myself there……….

Some routines are soothing though.

Sgettin late, must lay head.

A full day. Full of stuff. Stuffed with stuff. And fluff.

I learned how to do yet another person’s job at work today – staff shortages allowed me this beautiful opportunity to mess up in quite another area than usual. I didn’t do that bad but I managed to lose a few people, they were found later wandering round the building and had to be collected and given tea and counselling after their ordeal.
And you think I’m kidding! What was quite funky today was that I spent the morning working with one lady who was having a working birthday and then spent the afternoon working with another lady who was having a working birthday. Obviously a popular day for having a birthday, well William I of Orange and Anthony Trollope went for it.

The afternoon was spent in deconstructing and reconstructing which was also a change from my usual line of work. A screwdriver is not my usual tool of trade. I will refrain from making coarse comments about screwing at this stage.

I have also managed to incorporate some hoovering into the day. Or vacuuming, or whatever it is called. Splendid.

I am in the process of printing 3000 flyers for the play – it’s a long job so I’ve got loads of computer time to kill which is great because I can organise my photos a bit….

How very trying when I find a small window to visit Blogland it has gone to sleepies. So I shall have to chat to myself in Word for a bit.

I have spent almost the entire day trying to finish my waistcoat which is now all done bar a few touches that require a visit to C&H Fabrics. Actually I haven’t time to go myself so my dear mama is going to help me out a hole. Mind you she is always pleased to have an excuse to go out to the shops so we both gain. When I have completely finished I will post a pic of it as it is quite pretty.

I did break off from sewing for an hour in the afternoon to go for my constitutional. It forced me out of my dressing gown so it was useful. It was a bit a grey-cloudy and there were spots of wetness in the air but it was still nice to get out for a bit. The place I go to has nice scenery, a pond, a swing, and benches so I’m quite happy to amble. There was an intriguing note affixed to the top of a wooden post which read ‘The Greenhouse Effect’ followed by an Eastbourne phone number and then ‘10-5.30pm’.
Sadly there was no date so I don’t know how recent the note was. I was tempted to phone and find out what it was about. Not a good idea maybe? I don’t know. The handwriting looked non-sinister anyway.

Read somewhere that Saint George was ‘part man part myth’. Which part of him was mythic I wonder, I know which part I think! It is also Shakespeare’s birthday but I didn’t send a card; I have trouble with the living as regards remembering birthdays. But the mention of Shakespeare is a reminder to me that I have to attend a preliminary meeting for the recently cast Pericles. Like I haven’t got enough on! I don’t think I have too many lines this time. I can learn lines usually without problem but it finding the time to pick up the script and look at them. For some reason line learning is something that seems to be an increasing problem. When I first started we had books down by a certain date and lines were learnt, on the whole! The last few years have seen a worrying trend of certain actors in the society still referring to the script as late as the dress rehearsal. It’s mostly men that are affected. I wonder if that is anything to do with their long testosterone filled ring fingers.

How long does it take you to decide what to wear in the morning?
Decide? Decide! What makes you think I decide to wear what I’m wearing; it’s usually the first clean thing I get to.

If you had to rename yourself in the blogosphere, what would your new name be?
Dances with Bells

What is the last thing you looked forward to doing at night?
Sleep, obviously. Of course what I would like to look forward to is the last thing I’m likely to be doing.

What are you procrastinating at the moment?
Any one of a thousand things. You name it, I’m procrastinating it. I was about to tidy something…..

While channel surfing, what movie will you always stop to watch if it's on?
Anything with Johnny Depp.

If your behaviour came with a guarantee, what could you honestly guarantee about yourself?
Guaranteed contrary.

What is your favourite breakfast cereal from childhood? What is your favourite now?
I don’t like breakfast cereal, it makes me hungry.

If you could have a scale model of anything you wanted, what would it be?
Oooooh what makes you think I haven’t already got one………….actually I don’t’ really but I do have a photo of it!

"Ashes to ashes, funk to funky, we know Major Tom’s a junkie."

It’s going round my head like broken record. The girlie is using it as her MSN tag and every time I see it my head starts singing it and we’re off again.

I was handed a CD yesterday that a friend had recorded from vinyl, following a conversation we had had a few weeks before. It was a lovely surprise and quite unexpected. Warmed the cockles of me heart it did.

The weekend is turning out to be pretty much as I expected really. Busy. But pleasurably so. And the sun has been gloriously shiny and the sky very blue. And it was warm enough to garden in just a vest. On my top half that is……..with bottom-half dressed as well I hasten to add! It’s still only April after all – save any nudey gardening until at least June.

Chicken with cashew nuts. Had a particularly good one this evening. Nice crispy cashews. Nice and toasty.

Another one that’s running round the hamster wheel in my head from Vashti Bunyan…..

Just another diamond day
Just a blade of grass
Just another bale of hay
And the horses pass.

Just another field to plough
Just a grain of wheat
Just a sack of seed to sow
And the children eat.

Just another life to live
Just a word to say
Just another love to give
And a diamond day

Fine

It must be a sign

There is a common misconception that Morris men are all beardy types and I want to set this right. Oh……hang on…my groups are all women! But all the musicians are guys so I could base it on that. So….of the five musicians actually only four have beards. Ok, I don’t have a leg to stand on do I? Hubby was recently quite upset that I failed to notice that he had shaved off his beard - as he isn’t playing Jesus any more he doesn’t need it. But quite frankly in 19 years of knowing him it has been beard on, beard off, beard on, beard off - so I think I could be forgiven for getting confused now and then. I had a slightly surreal acquaintanceship with a conman many years ago. Conman’s dream I am. I believe any glib line, I am easily charmed and flattered and anybody with a line of smooth patter could sell me the ground under my feet. I need looking after I tell you! Anyhow this guy was eventually exposed and I ended up with egg on my mug (financially in tact mind you!) but some time later I met him in Sainsbury’s and he chatted to me like nothing was different, just as smooth and charming as ever BUT he had failed to remove the breakfast from his beard so all that sliming was wasted! Personally I prefer a smooth shaven face………..not my own of course…..I mean it’s smooth……but not because I shave…..

Not sure how I go onto to beards, something must have put it in my mind. Some tangential thought process must have dropped that casually into the pile of stuff in my head. I have a head a bit like paper shredder. Information goes into it and gets cut into wee thin strips that make no sense. At least I know what I mean. Sometimes people can pick up a ribbon and run with me but only for as long they feel their grip on sanity is safe. Which reminds of a quote from a favourite read. The Moon of Gomrath by Alan Garner. As I can’t lay my hands on the book itself I shall have to go by what I remember…..

Of those that have gone to Caer Rigor few have returned and none at all unchanged…

So basically - Of those that run with me none return to sanity unchanged! Be warned!

If that isn’t a prompt to sort out the bookshelves I don’t know what is. But not now, good heavens I need at least a couple of years to get on top of that one. Well I have watched the printer churn out 525 flyers for the play so I can go get my dinner before I have to dash off again.

Chow for now!

My feet are sooo hot; it must be time to get out of winter boots and into summer sandals. I just don’t know what to go for this year. Splash out and buy decent sandals or get several cheap pairs, oh the agony of choice. The blisters will be the same whichever way I jump.

Had a really good dancing evening – in the zone perhaps. Maybe things are falling into place at last. However, it is pretty fair to say I am more able to concentrate at the beginning of the session, by the end I’m too zonko to remember where I’m going.

Shepherd’s Hay, Banbury Bill, Jacky Frost, Lumps of Plum Pudding, Fois de Goose

Names of dances.

These are the ones I have a reasonably good idea what is going on.

Funny isn’t it how something someone says takes on a whole new meaning when new information is added. A throw away comment can suddenly become a loaded remark. That happened to me today but I shouldn’t be attempting to think right now, my brain is tired. I think it needs a pillow and about seven hours of total rest.

I must go get horizontal…….

It’s so cheesy. Crocodile Dundee. The girlie is watching it while I play laptops. How lovely to find a man who can wield a knife to good effect AND be possessed of the sensitivity to share a moonlit romantic moment. As if……………

I am wore out I tells you.

Had a rather nice lunchtime snack today, well it was a belated lunch somewhere in the middle of the afternoon, crusty baguette with cool philly and a rather yumptious caramelised onion chutney. Just felt I had to share that, well the relation of it, not the actual snack. I yummed it all to myself. Half an hour of cool yummy bliss, an island of calm pleasure in the boisterous ocean of the day.

What is it with clothes sizing these days. I picked up two identical pairs of trousers except for being one size apart. The smaller pair wouldn’t squeeze over my enormous pair of peaches and the larger pair floated in generous waves over the same teeny botty. I always worry that one day I shall get trapped inside a garment that I really can’t peel off again. It has almost happened once or twice, a dress or two that had me panicked into a sweat inside a tiny knot of fabric clearly designed for a dolls house inhabitant. Arms locked, head bent back on itself, muscles crying in contorted agony. Oh the glory of being a woman.

I think I crossed off most of the things on my to-do list and even managed to knit a couple of rows of my scarf. A couple was all I could do, and that was during a coffee break at rehearsal. I even did a bit of ….dah dah dah, housework! Aaaaaargh.........

So back to the grind after a few days off and the excitement reached fever pitch as I was invited to watch my bosses hand to see it twitch. Ok so I’m being a touch facetious! But it was a mostly dull day, sort of sloggy and I don’t mean the pants. Well it was a bit pants in places. Still I have a day off again tomorrow. It was nice to have the sun shining though, shining on the rusting bike that has been discarded in the patch of ground I had cleared of litter. My cell mate and I saw a pheasant and a fox wandering around the outback, well it’s out the back of the office. We hoped that the two would remain separate and that the fox would refrain from offering the pheasant a lift.

It was one of those days with not very nice things on the pavements. Sickpats - or whatever groups of sick are, not really puddles, not really piles. And a heavily used sanitary towel. Yucky. Why do people have to use pavements like rubbish bins, gross.

When I got home there was a palm tree on my front lawn. Not a small pot with a garden centre size specimen, it’s a person height tree in a lobster pot. My sister dropped it off. Ditched it and ran, I think, she been trying to get rid of it for months. I said I would offer it accommodation as I have plenty of garden space. I am taking in another large plant later this week that has outgrown its owner. I could perhaps start a plant sanctuary. I have taken pity on quite a few that have turned out to be absolute treasures so I don’t look a gift plant in the……….erm……….not sure how to finish that sentence.

I had to write myself a comprehensive list of what I have to do tomorrow with my day off. I shall be glad to get back to work on Thursday for a rest.

Here is a quotation for the day……..

“You can't have a light without a dark to stick it in.” Arlo Guthrie
US folksinger (1947 - )

You know the day is going a bit odd when it starts off with going to someone’s house and they make you change into their clothes. After that all seems perfectly normal.

I was re-dressed in a more appropriate outfit and went off to spend the day accompanying dancing Morris ladies to various locations in Hastings. The world and his wife, and daughter, son, mother, father, aunt, uncle, grandfather, grandmother and second cousin once removed were in Hastings for the Bank Holiday. Kiss me quick – because it’s a bit parky. Fun fairs and fish and chips etc. Hardly a cultural feast admittedly but I like seeing real people, ordinary Joes and Jo-esses, sticking their offspring together with candyfloss and getting beery and belligerent. Throw a pack of vividly dressed lady Morris dancers into the fray with their jingling bells and clashing sticks…………..

Followed by rolling hardboiled eggs down the West Hill. I didn’t win a chocolate Easter egg but quite frankly that was a relief as I already have too much chocolate still hanging around. Rolling them down was something I could comprehend but when it came to trying to roll them up again I was puzzled and starting to reel from the long surreal day.

I had a brief interlude this evening for a meal and then I had to go to rehearsal. I really need to learn my lines but I didn’t seem to have time to sneeze this weekend let alone pick up my script and learn something. There are some things it would be really helpful to do while asleep. Reading for one is something I struggle to find time for at the moment, and of course going to the loo is something I really resent having to make time for. And learning lines, I do wonder if I put them on tape and play them to myself during the night whether it would work. I doubt it as I miss the ends of the stories hubby often puts on at bedtime. Books on CD and such. He puts them on to help him get to sleep and it works because within a couple of minutes he is snoring away. I however am kept awake by them until just before they reach the denouement at which point my body has decided enough is enough and consequently I miss Poirot’s unravelling of the case or Sherlock’s exquisite revelation. That is of course unless I am treated to a depressing Radio 4 play he has recorded about hardship and angst and heart break. On those occasions I pray for sleep to come quickly and those are the plays I last out until the end and then want to slit my wrists.

Ah well I had a jolly day today and have the pleasure of work to look forward to tomorrow so no need to feel depressed………..is there?

Help required!!!

Did anyone out there watch 100 most outrageous TV moments on C5 the other night. If so what was number one. We watched it but we can't remember and it's totally bugging the girlie. Please put me out of her misery!

Why I was allowing her to watch such a gross programme I don't know but I had just returned from somewhere and was too weak to resist. I dreamt oddly afterwards. Last night I dreamt about horses, no great surprise after watching them on stage yesterday evening. I also had one of those dreams where I am lost in a series of corridors and rooms and buildings and they go on and on and on and I can't seem to find my way or get anywhere. A bit like life sometimes. Lost in a maze and don't know where I'm going and don't feel I'm getting anywhere.

About a year ago I felt I was on the brink. I had thrown a pebble into the still pool that was my life and the ever-increasing circle of ripples would change something of the tedium of my existence and things would be different in ways I couldn't possibly yet imagine. The ripples have subsided and the pool is still-ish again and nothing is different, all is as it was. All except me of course. Sometimes I feel like I am walking around inside this person and watching what she says and does but I know it isn't really me. I guess everyone has days like that.

I have eaten far too much chocolate and my waistband is groaning. I should have worn tighter trousers and then maybe I wouldn't have eaten so much. It's very trying as I am losing hold of my size 12 status again and rapidly sliding into a regular 14 instead of somewhere between the two which I was quite content with. A couple of years ago I was struggling to stay shy of a size 18 so I suppose things could be worse. Sorry this is a bit me-y today but then it is my blog so I guess that's ok. Anyhow my weight has been a constant source of misery to me all my adult life and severly affected my confidence. As this is something that affects millions of women I think there are probably a few girls out there who can relate. The only times I have actually felt confident as an adult have been the times I took control and lost weight. It is the being in control that is perhaps the bit that counts rather more than the purely cosmetic image issue. Being in control of one's life. It's something I have seldom felt, that I am in control. I don't feel like I'm in the driving seat of the vehicle of my own existence, I'm just a passenger.

Dreams huh!

I really don't know how that all developed.........

Well we have been to see Carmina Burana and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. It was a fascinating show, full of the emotional drama of a passionate people. I wasn’t too sure about the drooling horses however as I was worried they weren’t comfortable. They didn’t look unhappy though and to get them to clip clop in rhythmic time to the music was impressive and effective. It was refreshing.

Oh but my head it doing my head in. I have some aloe vera plants – quite enough to take a few leaves off to extract some juice to anoint my sore places. I can mix some with baby shampoo. Aloe vera is one of my two favourite home remedies, the other is salt water but I don’t think that would be so good on this occasion. I’m not too keen on pills and potions having had allergic reactions to quite a few so I stick with nature’s simplicity. But it’s so scratchy it’s given me a headache so I resorted to paracetamol earlier on.

When I used to get eczema on my hands I would be good and not rub until I reached a point where I just had to let rip and rub my hands so hard that my finger bones ached. Oh what bliss that was. And chickenpox – ‘don’t scratch the pocks’ they said ‘or you’ll get scarred’. So guess what I have on my face. Only two I think - and they are so wee and white, and only I really notice them.

Earlier on it really was B & Queue today, loads of people stocking up on DIY jobs for the bank holiday. Huge great trolley loads of summer bedding or acres of paint. We were only buying two Kilmarnock willows so we looked as if we were seriously under-spending. And then on to Tesco where huge empty spaces had replaced the enormous stocks of chocolate eggery and what vestiges were left were being hauled off the shelves and replaced with barbeque paraphernalia. I can’t quite understand the whole Easter mince pie nonsense. Mince pies are Christmas surely; we have hot cross buns at Easter. The world has gone mad. We will soon be filling stockings with Easter eggs, the bunny will be popping down with chimney with a sackload of presents and the brandy butter will be dripping through the grill of the barby.

Pass me another creme egg someone and have you put a carrot out for the rain dear.

We had to miss a few parts there obviously.

I have nearly finished the waistcoat….well that was late afternoon. I’ve been to rehearsal this evening, just by way of a change.

When I say I have nearly finished I have nearly finished the basic waistcoat. I then I have to buy material for the rags to sew on to it. When I will find a window to do that I don’t know but I am running out of time before May Day.

May Day, May Day, m’aide.

I am taking some of my family - mother, sister, daughter - to see Carmina Burana tomorrow. With Spanish flamenco and live horses so that should jolly. It will mean missing the Holy Saturday service but as I haven’t been to church for several years I’m not quite sure why that bothers me – albeit only slightly. Perhaps it’s because in spite of the fact that don’t miss church itself that was my favourite of all services and part of me misses that. The cliché of once a year attendance at church usually applies to Christmas, in my case it would be Holy Saturday.

I had an unpleasant-ish call the other day. One of the ladies in our society who is something of a moaner by nature was suggesting I wasn’t up the job of photographer and perhaps somebody else would be better able to give the kind of commitment I clearly couldn’t. She is the kind of person who is forever griping about something but still it upset me. I have known her, and what she is like, for a long time so I know I shouldn’t get needled but the trouble with feeling so inadequate is that instances like that are so terribly undermining. However, I took courage in my two hands and told her in fairly firm tones that I wasn’t prepared to give up the job. I’m rubbish at confrontation but I stood my ground and I’m still doing the job.

Small steps.........

You know when you have something to do and you just keep putting it off and putting it off and putting it off. Well I really must make a start on my waistcoat. I have the pattern, I have the material, what I really need is a poke in the ribs and someone to say ‘get the feck on with it girl’. Procrastination par excellence today. I didn’t roll out of my beddy poos until 10ish and I still haven’t approached the getting-dressed zone, and the midday marker is not far off.

I texted the boy and told him we have hot cross buns in a probably vain attempt to lure my own son into a family visit. Boys will be boys I guess. He is giving us up in favour of Eddie Izzard on Easter Sunday – what’s he got that we haven’t? Oh yes, a much bigger fan rating. Hahahaha.

I am not buying chocolate presents so much this year. The girlie doesn’t want any at all but I might get some to fill up the Easter Egg Hunt things we have left over from years ago. You WILL enjoy this chocolate feast!

I have been mega-busy this week and so far I can’t actually see on the horizon a day that has no commitments. I was offered a part in a play after the one I’m doing now. And I didn’t even audition, I was head-hunted……………or they were desperate. No the weeks ahead seem pretty chocker. Still Madrid will be a nice breather at the beginning of May – by which time I shall either be desperately trying to learn my lines or have gone mad in the attempt. Some would say I went that way long ago.

I shall have to go look into this waistcoat business.

Return I shall when done it is.

Yoda lay yoda lay yoda lay hey hey.

Erm....................................

I didn't get round to posting yesterday, too busy. My mother, bless her, told me the other day that I am over-doing things. I'm getting tired and run down. But how else do I shut the monsters out of my head. It doesn't work anyway. I'm falling apart at the seams it seems. My work is going to pot, I can't get on top of my paperwork, I am robbing Peter to pay Paul as far as my time goes. I had to dash from dancing to play rehearsal the other night as they coincided. One straw will break this donkey's back. Ah yes there it is. The sarcastic comments return in force to drive me from the comfort of my own fireside.

Yet I am so blessed. I have all the things any woman could possibly want - so I'm regularly reminded. A nice husband, a nice family, a nice house, a nice life. And I appreciate them all but I still have this gnawing emptiness. Where fulfilment goes? Sense of achievement? Sense? Yes some of that would be useful. Just realised I forgot to say 'a nice job', well that too.

Oh sod it. I'll return tomorrow with a smilier face. Perhaps.

My head is so itchy, it’s driving me nuts. No it isn’t cooties. I think it may be the lime and guarana conditioner so I shall give that a miss next time. Too delicate you see. My head, not the conditioner.

Someone I work with held my hands one day and told me how soft my hands were – well of course they are, it’s not like I work with them. I don’t plunge them into washing up, or any other form of cleaning fluids for that matter, and I don’t shove them into the garden without gloves on, and I don’t subject them to anything traumatic like housework. Tch.

We had rain today – not nearly enough to avoid drought measures but enough to make it really hard work going out in the evening. Somehow it seems such a struggle to uncurl myself from the sofa and brave the elements. Its fine once I’m there but the effort required to get there is phenomenal. As far as rain goes I have a water butt full to the brim at the moment but it won’t last the whole summer, perhaps I should get another couple, but we won’t at this stage go into how many millions of gallons are carelessly trickled away by inefficient water authorities. I’m not political. And I shall of course be paying careful attention to what my neighbours are doing with their hoses – noculars on standby.

So do your bit for water – bath with a chum.

Hubby finally returned from his break today having extended his time away to help his mother move house. He arrived back in town and had a phone call asking him why he hadn’t come in to work. How lovely to just forget to go to work. I don’t think I could pull that one off, but it’s a charming thought. I have even remembered that I do have to go to the palace of pleasurable pastime tomorrow instead of Thursday. The lolly jar needs refilling and I have the stock to do the job.

Recently I have allowed my ipod to choose what it wants to play to me and consequently I heard a song yesterday that I didn’t know was on there. The lyrics were desperately sad, the aftermath of war etc. and it came like a punch in the stomach, one minute bouncing, the next minute blubbing. It’s no wonder I get funny looks.

So decisions, yes.

I am perched, as it were, on the edge of today, gazing into the misty uncharted waters of tomorrow.

Mindset. Changing that can really change your life. Old habits die hard though. It is easier to slide into a negative mindset if the habit is there. Especially when hormonally challenged.

Time to move on.

To the next topic.

Actually I never have gone for topics much; I am very fond of Star Bars though. I had one for my lunch – with a packet of roast chicken flavour crisps. So disgustingly unhealthy but relatively cheap and I am seriously short of readies. I may have to start wearing my clothes inside out to extend the wear time.

I managed to re-instate my weekly, solitary walk the other day, I missed it so much. Different place now though. With a swing. It’s odd you know, I don’t remember the seats of swings being so narrow! My hips were wedged so that should I have wanted to dismount in flying leap I would have ended up dangling underneath the swing with my hips firmly wedged in place still, like some kind of collapsed puppet. I was never daring enough as a child to dismount with a spectacular leap through the air, and I never liked going up high enough for the bumps.

I didn’t take much in the way of photos though except for this colossal fungus.

I can’t believe there was all that snow not so far away - here on the Sussex Riviera we escaped - and only a few hours after I had been lying in the garden in the sun listening to the birds and bees. But seasonal anomalies give us something to talk about at least. My family still talk about the holiday we had in Yorkshire in June with a snow motif, and also the picture we had of a group of girls (myself included) draped across groynes (no smut please!) on an English beach……dressed in bikinis…..in January!

Roll on Summer, for ice-skating in the park.........

No, not a reference to my employers.

DOC - Date Of Change

Life-changing decisions

Which dwarf are you in business meetings?

http://www.snowwhitetest.com/snow/

I wasn’t surprised to be a ‘bashful’ dwarf. I wouldn’t say boo to a goose. I wouldn’t even say boo to a wren.

http://www.snowwhitetest.com/ibashful/

This bit resonated certainly,

Bashfuls do not usually express their difficulties to others, because they intensely dislike conflict, and because they tend to place other people's needs over their own. Bashfuls need to learn to identify, value, and express their own needs, if they wish to avoid becoming over-worked and taken for granted.

At our meetings although there are several docs they aren’t all ‘doc’ dwarves but you don’t want too many of them really! A meeting entirely consistently of doc dwarves could be a very dynamic session or, rather more likely, positively volcanic.

Went to quiz evening yesterday. I don’t think my contribution was great – I forgot to take my general knowledge brain with me – in truth I couldn’t find the darn thing. And after two glasses of my dad’s home-made wine, a sweet white that left a trail down the side of the glass like a liqueur, I was seriously underwhelming in my intelligence processes. But our team didn’t come completely last. A few questions wrong and we could have had a chance at the booby prize, a carton of truffle eggs. You can get a prize for coming first, a prize for bringing up the rear but being average wins you nought!

Fight mediocrity.

“Have a nice haircut honey” I