woodland wonderland

Taken by Catster.

I love trees.

david gest

I wish I had the time to tell you how great he is doing in I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here but I only get the internet for a bit at bro's.

Still no moving in date yet and it has really started to hurt. To fight off anxiety I am buying myself some bits and bobs for the new place. I really cheered myself up last weekend by buying an outside yard brush. That's how sad life is.

Please let me be in for Christmas.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING SHARKY. XXXX

valencia

This time last week.

Ahhhhhh.

living room

Pah, you know I’m only fed up because I’m not in my dream home yet. So, here’s more diversions:::::


I’m going to keep the floor as it is, although I may change the shade to something darker after living with it for a while. The mirror is going and I may replace the shelving with something a little more modern and practical (lots of books). But colours. Shall I go white or is there something a little more exciting. I went to the WB’s? home and he has all the walls painted grey with red! carpet.

been feeling sorry for myself again

I don’t know if anyone else does this but sometimes when I’m having a smelly old time of it, I have a little peek at what I was doing at the same time the year before (or further back in emergencies), wondering why I’m in the same old mess as ever, why (w)don’t I learn etc?

I’m feeling very blue at the moment, so I poured over November 2005 today (previous year’s memories being locked away in storage). Happily, it turned out to be just the diversion or thought provocation that I needed. It just made me laugh to see that the things I enjoyed the most last year is exactly the thing that I am enjoying the most this year. Once again I have found that to be nature. Of course I love summer the bestest but I love all the other seasons too and there’s a lot to be said for Autumn. Although it’s always icy cold at first, we also enjoy the crystal clear blue skies that inspired catster to do this. We have wonderful crisp cold air, pretty icy mornings, clear night skies, long shadows, colourful skies and gorgeous sunsets.

At last I have found a jogging route here that at least attempts to rival the one above. And there are no dogs. There are millions of little parks around here (it used to be the middle of nowhere after all) but no one jogs, so dogs tended to view me as a burglar and chase me while barking very menacingly. However, my newly discovered route takes me down to the River Thames at Islewoth and to Syon Park which is lovely. Orion and tomorrow’s full moon will be once more visible. Plus there are the colourful sunets although on the downside, I don’t get to see them on weekdays as I’m at work, where it feels like bedtime by 5pm it’s so dark!!!!! Suppose I’ll get used to it. Course early dark nights also mean that blazing sunlight wakes me up every morning, which I especially love at the weekends. Early morning is once again my absolute favourite time.

genuine appeal

I've run out of books to read and need some suggestions badly.

Come on people, help me with my reading list.....please. x

taxi

I’ve been exploring all other available options in order to avoid the hell that is the Piccadilly Line followed by the Hammersmith and Shitty line and the bus. Plus I love over ground trains. Having been very pleased with the service from Waterloo to Isleworth (1 min from the house) I decided to try the grandly named Silver Link last weekend. It turned out to be full of drunks, empty bottles and cans of beer rolling from one end of the carriage to another, MacDonalds wrappers, discarded Metros/London Lites/London Papers and a selection of deranged looking characters. I was relieved that I managed to avoid direct eye contact with anyone by the time I arrived at Richmond. Richmond is a gorgeous place with great shops, greenery, ‘the’ Park, fresh air and loads of space, but turn up there at 10.30pm on Friday night and you’re faced with spotty adolescents drinking Cava and cheap cider while looking to score themselves an Asbo. I decided not to wait for the bus as intended and jumped into a black taxi that turned out to smell of vomit. Nice. Maybe he saw the disgusted look on my face or maybe he was just intrigued at the sudden appearance of a non chav. Either way the driver made an attempt at conversation and asked me “have you been to the town?”. “What town?” “The London town.” “Hmmm, sort of. Does the Harrow Road count?”

comments please

The Chairman says that I remind him of this character.

i wanna come home

Just as I thought that I was coping really well. It’s lovely living with bro. Ever since I was a very young girl we have been carbon copies of each other. Years ago we were pretty much inseparable and even went through a stage of wanting to be his and her rozzers on the beat when we grew up. Course then we grew up and didn’t want that at all. He’s always been my big brother who knows best and is my first port of call whenever I need anything big brother like. He taught me how to stand up for myself (we are both red heads), how to be naughty, how to play cards, how to do DIY, he kicked off my tool kit and other boy-like things. It’s because of him that I know no fear when holding a hammer, although I’m a bit of a pansy with a drill. Yes, we all know I’m a Tom Boy and now we know why. Big bro plus 3 others for anyone counting!

So similar and yet at times I look at him and wonder just how we can be related. He’s calm, he thinks before he speaks, he’s not loud (without an audience), he’s messy, he has a habit of leaving all doors open, even wardrobe and cupboard doors, you can’t sit on his couch because it’s covered in cushions and he watches the worst telly in the world, shopping channels, Pretty Woman and the like. Yikes. And to think that he used to be the hardest man that he knows………something that he used to say and that I will never let him forget. He buys things compulsively and then leaves them stacked up in piles unused. He’s only got 2 quirks that I know of (which is obviously much less than me): hall landing light remains on at all times and sofa cushions must be plumped up at night. Plus, obviously, I have to get off the computer when he wants to get on it.

So here I am living a life in limbo with no complaints. Well, none about actually living here. But the journey to and from work is absolute hell at times. Most of the time the Piccadilly line is fine but when it’s not it’s awful. My route to work takes me the same route as passengers who have got off long haul flights to Heathrow Airport. It’s a right old mixture of complaints. Lots of knuckle cracking which makes me feel ill. Lots of people who fart. Really stinky, repugnant farts. There’s yer tiny Indian men who sit there serenely calm until all of a sudden they throw their arms and legs out to have a good old stretch, yeah I’ve nearly been punched several times. There’s lots of Americans who crouch down to look out of the windows no matter how crammed the train. Little brats who want to show the whole carriage how clever they are by pronouncing Osterley, Boston Manor, Acton town……..you get me? Of course the New Yorkers are the worst with their non stop monotone Manhattan drone about the delights of the Piccadilly line and the crowded trains. Back packs and luggage everywhere. People who have not washed in days. The way home is worse with cancelled trains, trains sitting in stations and in between stations for ages. Somehow they are always really hot, stuffy and they stink! And this is with washed people on the WAY to the Airport. And then I have to face the Hammersmith and Shitty line. Again it’s fine at times but when it’s not its hellish. Regular travellers are so used to moaning that the least delay leads to huffing and puffing which makes everything ten times worse. I just stick my head in a book and try to ignore the lot of em, only occasionally have I found the need to be extremely rude.

Bro’s great. Even though I’ve turned his house up-side-down, it’s no sweat to him. He’s been great and I’m trying to be no bother and a minimal disruption to his life. It’s great here and I’ve even got used to the planes, although my ear plugs have a terrible habit of falling out during the night. Sometimes it’s fun watching them take off and land above my head, taxi-ing and circling and spotting the changes in the flight patterns. Well, find your fun where you can eh. There’s also loads of starlings on the roof and they make the most amazing calls which I had never heard close up before. The only bad thing about living around here is that’s there’s nowhere to run. No one seems to jog so joggers are a morbid curiosity to dogs in parks and I’ve run out of 3 now, scared for my life.

So just as I thought that I was coping really well I went to see Perry at the weekend and as there were people staying in MY room and I hadn’t been out for weeks and I was trying to fit 2 or 3 weeks of fun into 1 night, I totally shamed myself by going to lie down on his bed for a minute as I didn’t feel well, only to resurface at 10am the next day. I didn’t do anything shameful other than conk out and steal his bed forcing him onto the sofa and I made up for these short falls with helping him with kitchen improvements on the Saturday. After 5 or 6 hours of home improvements I found myself thinking that it would be lovely to have a bath. I was totally shocked when I realised that the bath that I was imagining was my old avocado coloured bath. It was the first and so far the only time that I missed my old gaff. I suppose that it had something to do with me going past it on a bus the night before and seeing a man on a ladder re-painting the funny room white. During my 10 years there, there was never a man on a ladder painting. It was odd to see, knowing that I couldn’t barge in there saying “not like that, like this”.

Still, my mortgage on my dream flat has been approved, my mortgage survey is tomorrow and my independent survey was done today. The Estate Agent has twice mentioned the possibility of the seller moving into rented accommodation. Fingers crossed that it’s not just ‘Estate Agent’ speak. If I was in before Christmas I would be so happy. Everyone say yeah!!

oh how vulgar

I admit it. I hold my hands up and wave them in the air. I have been extremely vulgar this week. It’s because I am temporarily RICH. Rich I tell you, beyond my wildest dreams. For I have paid the profit from my flat sale into my bank account. And for the first, and last, time ever, my account is in 6 figures. SIX. One – two – three – four – five - SIX. It look something like this ₤000,000.00. Not content with being, temporarily, rich, I printed off my bank account balance and showed it to everyone that I came into contact with.

I was literally laughing all the way to the bank and I was determined to enjoy my half hour of fun as it’s not real money. Not really. I mean it’s there and it’s mine, but I can’t spend it. I’m too scared to spend a penny of it and of course I need it all to buy my dream home. I had my fun but now it’s back to stress and penny pinching as this morning an abundance of correspondence arrived outlining the fact that I’m skint. Yes, skint AGAIN. My mortgage payments are going to double and my first set of bills come to approximately ₤4K, with lots more to come. I’m not complaining. It’s perfectly natural and I feel like the flat is a real step up the property ladder. I simply cannot wait to move in. When I bought my first flat I was broke for years, about 8 of the ten and most of my furniture was either given to me, on loan or a result of skip raiding. The only thing that I bought brand new was my sofa and 2, now hideously outdated, coffee tables. This time (fingers crossed) I am in the pleasant position of not having to redecorate the whole place from scratch. Of course I’ll gradually put my own touches to the place, but this time I’m determined to make the place a Palace. I’ve even bought a copy of Elle Deco. Oh I can’t wait to move in.

I’ve settled into life at bro’s. It’s nice here. I’ve got broad band! The people are friendly and one doesn’t get beaten up or pick pocketed simply getting onto a bus. The kids here even get up if an elderly person gets on board. There’s a Greek Deli, a fantastic late night supermarket with fresh produce and the Thames is a 12 minute walk away. I still haven’t got used to the planes though but I’m getting very good with the earplugs.

i'll be back

Phewwwwee what a couple of week’s that was. I am now officially homeless, temporarily loaded and have travelled from Herne Hill to Hounslow, although, as they say……..I’ll be back.

The sale of my flat moved very slowly and I did nothing to speed it up myself as I continued to look for a garden flat. There had been nothing to look at in weeks even after I had extended the search to W3 and W12 as Daddy had asked “don’t you want to move nearer to home?” So sweet, after 10 years away. I’d also been trying to ignore the sale as much as possible to reduce my stress levels and eventually the Estate Agent called and told me to start thinking about an exchange date. Suddenly the very next day I was exchanging contracts in approx 10 days. Crikey, I hadn’t even called a removal firm. By Wednesday I had all the remaining paperwork and this was duly despatched to the absent freeholder who lives in Brighton to sign first as the others live in London.

I immediately started bringing bubble wrap, boxes and a tape gun home from work and gathered a moving plan together in my head. It pays at times like these to be anal. I called a removal firm, pencilled a removal date for the following Thursday, and they came around to give me a quote on the Friday, which I took off to pack. Turned out they also did storage and at a cheaper rate than the other company I had looked into. Two birds, one stone. Thank Goodness I took a day off, as looking for somewhere to live cut into my available packing time. Friday’s action was cut short as I went to look at a hovel in Acton and then went to see Mogwai with the Vixen at the RAH. They are just about the only group in the world that I would have bothered about at such a time and cor, they were as lush as ever. Saturday was again broken up by a viewing, my first in HH for over 5 or 6 weeks. Reluctantly I left the house on the way to what I was sure was going to be a dump. I couldn’t have been more wrong. It turned out to be my dream flat, with a 35-foot well maintained back garden, a shed, 3 coal bunkers, bars on all but the front windows and décor that I wouldn’t dream of changing. I rang the Estate Agent immediately and told him that I wanted to make an offer. There was a couple viewing after me and I felt sure that they would be making one too. It’s just that sort of a flat. It’s amazing. The remainder of the weekend was spent in intensive packing in sweltering heat, apart from a brief vodka and cards session at Perry’s. Although when Sunday night came I still had a lot to do, I was confident I could do it all in time if I packed in the evenings. Work is still mental with some of us are close to tears at times and leaving on time made it all feel worse but the WB was very good about it all and told me to do what I had to do.

The Estate Agent called me on Monday and told me that the other couple had as predicted offered the asking price. I offered it too and he told me that he would call me back. In the meantime the all important forms had not arrived over the weekend and knowing that the absent neighbour was in hospital for a minor operation on Saturday and Sunday, despite being quietly frantic, I only sent 1 text and was told that no post had arrived. On arriving at work I checked the Royal Mail site to track the progress of the forms. They had tried to deliver on the previous Thursday. Grrrr. Trying to keep my head and some vague sense of compassion, after all he was just out of hospital, I sent a long text explaining the situation. The Estate Agent called me back with the news that we were in a sealed bid situation. I immediately raised my offer and was told to sit tight until Wednesday morning. Arrrrrggghh. He also explained that my imminent exchange would be considered favourable. So, on hearing nothing back from the absent neighbour after 3 hours I followed up with a barrage of texts and was relieved to finally hear at 5.30 that the forms were on the way back to my work address. Phew. Some people’s version of urgent really does differ substantially from mine. Needless to say that I was in a very bad mood at work all day and if anyone even looked at me my hair raised itself on ends, my nostrils flared and I generally looked like Bianca from Benders.

On top of all this Big Bro was due to came over on Monday night to move my stuff into my new digs. I took over all my things, including anything flammable (which can’t be stored with my other stuff), clothes, some books and CDs and things that made me feel ‘at home’. It was excellent fun strapping my mattress to the roof of the car in belting rain while simultaneously water proofing it. Still, Dom is just the man for such a job and he came prepared. We unloaded and he gave me a quick tour of the house. The most memorable thing is the just wave at it, look no hands, toilet flusher. He’s a bit of a hoarder and had warned me about the mess but I was still surprised to see just about every surface covered in ‘things’, shelves everywhere covered in ‘things’ and having to walk around rooms sideways because of, you guessed it ‘things’. He gave me a quick drive around the area to show me the shops, the buses and tube and then we hit the sack exhausted. He’d also warned me about the low flying aircraft (so low the plane’s lights actually light up the garden going overhead sometimes) and pointed out a box of earplugs. As it was cloudy the planes were particularly low but I decided to see just how bad it was, for future reference.

The planes didn’t stop me from falling to sleep, however they did wake me up very early and I went into work on Tuesday feeling tired. I did perk up when the estate agent rang a day early to tell me that as a result of the sealed bids the flat was MINE. I was on the train but still jumped up and screamed and was generally oblivious to everything until I heard him say that it was all conditional on my exchanging contracts on the Thursday and completing as soon as possible after that. More good fortune arrived with the post and I called the other 2 free holders to arrange to meet up with them later that night. First neighbour was a rendezvous at Victoria Station where we asked a lady waiting for the train to be a witness. They both bore it very well. Neighbour two was in the flat decorating and we were just about to ask a passing pedestrian to be a witness when we saw a neighbour’s light on. He seemed sad that I was leaving and I must say that I would have liked him as a neighbour. Ah. Then I was back to packing and the season double finale of Lost. As my bed was at my brother’s, I had to sleep on my old futon with a crap duvet and cushion for a pillow. I have absolutely no idea how I slept on it happily for 10 years. Another nights bad sleep.

I woke on Wednesday feeling tired but very positive thinking that the last step was biking the forms off to my solicitor. But oh no, I had to go in there. More time away from my desk. Argh. Luckily the solicitor is not too far from work and I treated myself to a cab there and back. The controller had quoted me £20, which I told the driver at the beginning and end of the journey. He screwed up his face when I brought it up at the end of the trip and I thought here we go but imagine my delight when he said that he wouldn’t take more than £14. Naturally I gave him a tip, I mean he had got me there and back in what is traditionally known in other parts as a ‘lunch hour’. His constant farting and BO were forgotten as soon as I could take a few deep breaths. So far so good, and all I had left to do was finish off my packing and actually move. I left work at around 8 thinking that I would need to be up until all hours but in the end I was in bed for 1 with a whole 6 hours bad futon style sleep ahead of me. I thought I can do this.

I was up, showered, and dressed, with a paper and coffee waiting for the removal men at 8.30am. When 9am came I checked the paperwork to make sure that I had the right day. By 9.30am I was convinced that a firm on the internet had duped me and that they had swindled me out of the £500 fee. My suspicions were confirmed when I rang the number on the paperwork and eventually got through to a drippy ‘hello” and then “wrong number”. I collected myself and redialled and was relieved to get through to the firm and told that 3 men were just around the corner. Once they arrived things could not have gone any smoother and they kept me busy making tea and biscuits and cleaning up the bits of flat that had previously housed my possessions in cardboard boxes. My life was put into 2 wooden crates to be carted off to Bromley. They were gone by 12.15 and just as I was signing my paperwork, my solicitor called to say that I was exchanging AND competing that day. I immediately called my estate agent who confirmed my offer there and then and said that a letter would be in the post. I cleared up the miscellaneous crap, gave it all a final clean and handed in my keys by 1.15. My last glance around my flat was strangely devoid of any emotion at all. I just thought “what a dump”. Odd eh, after 10 years. Mind you I’d recently had some practice at letting go eh, and I’m right good at it now. With my world on my back and nearly a whole day to kill I spontaneously phoned the hairdresser in HH who could fit me in at 2.30pm. I waited until then in HH Station, with a sandwich and coffee from the deli while calling BT, etc from the station foyer to tell them that I had moved. I had accidentally packed my house phone the night before and they were all Freephone numbers, though not free from my mobile. Opps.

I got to Hounslow for 6ish and spent the evening trying to figure out how things, such as the TV remote, work, as bro is in Ireland with Daddy. Sensing defeat quickly I settled with making my room feel like home, amongst various gym equipment. As I said bro’s is filled with ‘things’ and I wasn’t surprised to find 2 compasses in the living room, so I set up my come get me light in the SW corner first. Again the planes woke me up very early and I was a shadow of my former self at work on Friday. My body was tired from constant packing and lack of sleep, as well as being repulsed by its recent diet of microwave meals and lack of exercise. Yet it was also exhilarated from everything going so smoothly in the end. It didn’t feel like it at the time, but moving was a piece of cake in the end. I’m free from a chain, living with my bro and I’m rich and free. On Friday night I decided to give the industrial ear plugs a go and I slept for 10 ½ hours!

choose life

Whoooah. Calm down codenamed. I’ve had a delayed, well normally timed I suppose, reaction. I got it! Closure, I mean. It came a couple of days later. Hurrah. I just looked at it all in a different way and got a totally different picture. It might have all been a coincidence but who cares if it was or not. Like me HWCBN is in the process of moving after 10 years in his home. He’s packed up and moved into a small bed-sit type affair, while I’m packing my home to go into storage, while looking for a palace with a nice garden. I still have not found anywhere to live so my brave bro Dom has volunteered to house me for the foreseeable future. HWCBN paid £56K in rent over those 10 years, while I’ll netted close to £170K in profit. I ain’t so silly. It’s time I learnt that. The ‘coincidence’ simply reinforces the differences in the way we want to live our lives. DONE. CLOSED. MOVED ON. Good luck to him. I’ve chosen life!!!!!! I thank you for your patience.

The light’s on boys! Come get me…………

x

knackered

It’s been a crazy old couple of weeks. The month began with a weekend with the Vixen. Due to exhaustion, 2 weeks worth of washing up and having no clean clothes to wear I nearly cancelled the whole visit but I’m glad that I didn’t as we spent a lovely Saturday taking turns to cook 2 meals with Daddy’s fresh produce, playing cards in front of a coal fire and in the evening ended up in the park dancing like Wicker Man loons with 2 cotton sheets in high winds. Bizarrely, but as promised by the Government earlier this year, the long awaited Indian Summer appeared the very next day and we spent a lovely Sunday strolling around the park taking in the view of London, the ‘secret’ garden and the allotments where we were surprised to see award winning sized squashes growing. We scarpered on discovering the bees housed under only a flimsy piece of wood. We had long talked about doing Thai Chi in the park but we only managed a little light stretching this time. I had to stop her from dangling over backwards in her bright red trousers while sitting on a bench watching a gentle game of bowling. She didn’t realise how distracting that she was being until I gently pointed it out. I took her to a more suitable spot and what I see as her spiritual home within the park, the tree circle and we lazed and stretched in the blazing sun while being assaulted by high wind swept leafs and plastic carrier bags. I can’t believe that it’s taken me 8 months to check out the alternative housing there but I was disappointed to find out that it was just a concrete bunker spray painted pink. ☹

The rest of the madness is work related so I will only skim through with minimum detail but one of the highlights was my being lucky enough to attend the NMP at the beginning of the month. I didn’t really know what to expect and I was pleasantly surprised to not only see Thom Yorke and many of the other short-listed artists perform but also to see that he is very good looking and actually slightly built. Shocker. Our fella didn’t win but got the plug of his life, courtesy of his friends the winners. Call 999.

My pet project at work descended into the country very late on Wednesday night, 21 of em and after 6 weeks of planning and being at my desk until all hours at night I’m proud to say that after a live radio session, 2 sold out gigs and a fully attended record shop in store that ended up on the streets of Covent Garden, it can be deemed a success. All I need now is for people to go out and buy the album. Gig 1 was in Hoxton, an area that I generally avoid at all cost. I used to go to warehouse parties there 20 years ago and it’s changed since I frequented dark, boarded up, piss smelling parties to a neon blazed area packed with shops, bars, restaurants and unbearably trendy people. I definitely preferred it before. Gig 2 was in Brixton, oh so close to home and the evening ended with Perry and I listening to me DJ-ing with dance remixes and me giving him a plotted history of our year apart via my blog. Gosh there was so much to tell but I went straight to NYE as it summarized 2005 in one entry. The evening had to end when it all went wrong while I tried to explain my past Jodie Marsh obsession. To disprove his persistent claims that she can’t be all that bad, I showed him the madness contained in her official blog. But he insisted that it was fake and written by random JM haters. No matter how many times I explained that it was her almost daily personal entries he continued to insist that it wasn’t real, my cue to leave. Well that plus an early start and my impending visitor……

Although I am not in often at the moment (soon to change) I have been remembering to keep my Feng Shui light burning brightly, for, as it signifies, I am ready for a man in my life. I wonder if there is anyone out there can explain what happened next and if it is a direct result of the persistent red glow. On Thursday I received a text from He Who Cannot Be Named. Two Christmases ago he bought me a How to Play Bass manual and I put some practice in before we broke up. He’s now moving into a smaller flat and wanted to come around in a cab to give me a bass guitar with stand and an amp. Of course I immediately accepted his kind offer and he came around bearing the gifts yesterday. Luckily there was a 2-day gap in between the initial text and the visit as I spent 2 nights marrying us off and us living happily ever after in my head. By the time Saturday came, yet again I was exhausted after 2 gig nights in a row, the early start and the drunken vodka fuelled session with Perry and subsequently calmer and more realistic. While waiting for HWCBN to arrive I even got out my compass to check that my light was burning in the correct corner of the room, the SW. It was, hmmmm. We had a fairly sedate hour in the pub and then he was gone out of my life again. If I was hoping for some sort of closure I didn’t get it. I still feel that our lives would be better if we spent them together and now I have to figure out if the whole thing was coincidence or if he is still tuned into me spiritually. I suppose time will tell and once again I have to be patient or somehow learn to drop it. The light has been on all day today, just in case, as it’s either him or a new man that will resolve the situation. He asked me why I don’t have a boyfriend and I told him straight that haven’t fancied anyone since we broke up. He grinned and nodded as the same has happened to him. A tear pricked my eye but did not fall and the evening ended shortly after.

found it (eventually)

We set off for Eden packed with backpacks, tents and winter woollies (well I had mine). The train was packed, absolutely packed. At £70 a ticket we were determined to get seats so I marched us into first class where we enquired about upgrades. Luckily, the train manager didn’t come back to us again, although he said he would and he did move others on. We sat in luxury for the whole 4-hour journey while whole families sat on the floor in the train vestibules. For those of you not in the know, this is the bit in between carriages, where the smelly toilets and extremely loud announcements are. The train company couldn’t understand why the train was so packed and mentioned the Bank Holiday with no knowledge that a 5000 capacity festival was happening in Cornwall every night over the weekend. Still, we were happy with our First Class carriage and complimentary drinks. I did confess to the catering man that we had not yet upgraded due to a faulty ticket machine and I was thanked for my honesty while Perry glared at me. I just can’t lie but luckily the rossers didn’t come to fetch us. I’d like to think that it was our charm that got us away with it, but in reality it was just the overwhelming number of passengers without seats.

I was inundated with text messages from the competition winners for the entire day and night. They had been asked to dress up as animals and the winners were to meet their heroes that very day, so I humoured their high jinx in good spirit. Well, you can’t ruin their fun, and I loved it anyway. Inevitably there was a light drizzle when the WB picked us up at the station, which quickly developed into full on rain as we pulled into the campsite. The site was basic and really high up and the visibility was low. I marvelled at there being a hill by the site, until the WB pointed out that it was a quarry, and we were surrounded by them. The top of our quarry was cloaked in mist and we out our tents up in a light drizzle. Joy, but in truth Perry and I really didn’t care. We put our tents up super quick and the taxi arrived to take us to the venue before I was ready but we rushed off remembering to stop for vodka and mixers on the way. Thank goodness we did or we would have been stuck without provisions. However it did mean that I had the lug 5 litres of liquid with me at all times.

The competition ran late but was a lot of fun and everyone had a great time. I was off duty by 5.30pm and Perry and I started having fun immediately. We visited the pods, not stopping long in the tropical one as we couldn’t breath, got some food and drink and got ourselves a good position for the gig. It was amazing and the pods provided a brilliant lighting effect and surrounding. I’d never seen GF in festival condition and Perry had never seen them live and it was one of those days where I just love my work. At the end of the night we climbed to the top of the hill with lots of other stragglers and faced hell itself getting a cab home. It was anarchy with every man out for himself. I assumed battle mode and after no time at all jumped in front of a cab and the safe passage home felt like heaven. We thanked the taxi driver over and over again and quickly settled ourselves down in Perry’s tent for cards in our blissful states. I’d do anything to spend the night under canvass and I was truly in heaven. Then the WB, wifelet and their friend came back and order was temporarily postponed as he joined the game and made telephone calls while the wifelet grew bored. She doesn’t play and their friend had fallen asleep upright in their car and could not be budged. She went out to find lives but returned dismayed at no sign of any, apart from some people sat in a car. Seeing her dismay I sent her out again with a glow stick insisting that this would draw people out. I was right and soon a party started next to our tent that the WB soon joined. Perry and I carried on playing cards until eventually I suggested joining them out of idle curiosity. Perry enjoyed this a lot more than me as he can gab to anyone and he soon got into conversation with a TH local that screamed like a banshee and talked at a very high pitched100mph. It was my time to be dismayed and I floated off to bed for a glorious sleep without killing anyone.

The WB woke us the next morning with a gentle “get off my land”. Country jokes are the best and it was “don’t stray from the path” land, near Bodmin and other moors. Several pubs were full of Nuevo witch fake memorabilia. They were off to the beach and dropped Perry and I off at a shop to get some food, as we wanted to spend the day lazing around. We stocked up and went to a pub to wait for our taxi. We made a lovely BBQ’d late lunch and settled into resting in the grass, protected from the wind by our inventive windbreakers. We basked in the sun occasionally, watched swifts in constant flight and played cards and Frisbee until it became locked in the jaws of a very stubborn dog. It wasn’t funny really and we soon got bored of the stupid game of trying to prise it out of his jaws and begging him to drop it. I advised that we ignore the dog and eventually he dropped it and walked off. Pah, it had teeth marks all over it.

The crowd arrived back around 8pm and we went off to the pub to meet a colleague without the wifelet. The pub was run by 3 women, who pounced on the WB and his male friend and they were really lucky to get out untouched as these women were gagging for it, I mean gagging for it. Perry and I resumed our card playing on our return, heard some owls and fell asleep until we were again woken by the familiar “get off my land” wake up call. This time we went to the seaside too and were delighted to spend the day on a beautiful sandy beach with blue skies and blazing sun. We even paddled and caught a bit of colour. After a beautiful fish and chip supper the WB and the wifelet fell asleep as Perry and I again played cards. Somehow we were caught up in some sort of time warp as the next thing it was 5.30am, some 9 hours later and we went to sleep for a few hours before having to pack up and go home. Once again I was a real misery guts all the way home as it was not until getting home at 7pm that I was able to eat any food that gave me energy. I need my food. Luckily we found some seats this time so I snoozed for 4 hours straight.

what’s 9 to 5?

It’s crazy mad busy for those of us on the front line at work, with no sign of letting up. The release schedule is fit to bursting and I have been given lots of new duties, plus my very own project, which is hotting up nicely. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. I love it. I love learning new things and I am relishing the role but it is hard work. For the last few weeks I’ve been working late every night, getting home, eating, watching BB7 and sleeping. That’s the lot, so I’ve been determined to leave work at 6pm on Fridays and the weekend has been starting there. If there were bars on buses I would be sinking my first vodka on the bus going home. Although it would appear that summer left us the day after the Shark + TH left these shores, I steadfastly refuse to accept this. The last 2 Fridays I have headed straight to Perry’s where we have been hanging onto summer by bar-b-q ing in his garden come rain, cloud or cold. He’s getting really rather good at it and is solely responsible for my change in opinion. I’ve always called it burnt food in the past but I’m coming round to his tasty grub and the joys of communal cooking. It also fits into my cunning plan of taking it easy at the weekend.

Last Friday I stumbled home in the early hours weaving a path across the pavements and I struggled to get up early on the Saturday to get my haircut. It was long overdue and the Spanish mullet look had to go before the start of the football season. My hair was cut off in a symbolic ritual. HWCBN liked it long and I’ve been slowly chipping away at it and finally gave the go ahead to get it off. Luckily my hairdresser does not talk while cutting my hair as I was in no condition to hold a conversation. Our ruthless come hippy MD at work has told me how to get a new boyfriend. It’s time now, although I haven’t been looking, which, according to him, is the problem. He told me that I have to put signals out into the Universe. If I think that I won’t get a man, then I won’t. If I signal that I want one, then I will get one, so, boys, watch out. I’m coming to get you. I have also placed a light in the South West corner of my bedroom which I must put on as another signal. I’ve also ensured that the mirror does not reflect my bed in it. These are both Feng Shui moves, on the advice of a colleague. The light has been burning now for 5 hours so I mean business.

I had to keep my strength up as the Vixen was coming round for an arts and crafts day. She’s back and we have promised to spend quality time with each other. We spent the day painting with brushes, sponges and potatoes and some of the work is very good. I was absolutely appalled to have to put the central heating on and heavy cloud meant that a trip to the park to watch the meteor shower was out of the question. Boo! It took me 3 hours to clean up on the Sunday but I’m glad I did as the buyer for my flat made an unscheduled visit to measure up for curtains. I had more of the same last night as Perry and I somehow managed to eat at a very late 11pm and played cards until gone 3 in the morning. We’re very competitive and each one of us demanded rematches if the other won. Fate conspired against me again today as I was told to get up for 9am, after 4 hours sleep, as a surveyor was coming round. Naturally he didn’t turn up until 11am, grrrrr. I only started feeling human again around 4pm. Drinking a week’s worth of vodka in one evening does take its toll.

My own flat hunt is going very very slowly as there is nothing suitable for me on the market. I had put an offer in on a property but it was withdrawn from sale only to be put back on 2 weeks later with a new price 9K over my offer, the asking price, and 5K over my planned budget. It was a gorgeous place with big bright rooms, a lovely garden and a cellar!! I have now resigned myself to putting my stuff into storage and staying with my big bro until I find somewhere. Sounds like lots of fun.

Next weekend Perry and I continue our search for the summer with a weekend of camping in Cornwall. There are currently bad weather warnings there, so no one tell him please. We’re off to see Goldfrapp at the Eden project and then we’ll stay for the Bank Holiday weekend along with the WB and his missus. I can see very long evenings with lots of card playing ahead.

seeing as everyone already knows

There was nothing to celebrate really. Turning 38 is pretty run of the mill (although I do prefer to be an even age as opposed to an odd age) and I was intending to keep the date under wraps. Plus I was working most of the weekend and had waving off the Shark and TH plus a evening with the family to contend with, as well as working on Sunday. However, due to the powers of myspace, everyone knew it was my birthday and quite a few had it in their diaries anyway. I must start writing these things down somewhere.

To my shock and surprise I had 3 wrapped presents waiting for me on my desk at work. One was a camping pack of Tarot cards, one was “Stardust’ by Neil Gainman (which I cannot wait to read) and the last package was a ‘birthday girl’ badge with disco lights that I immediately installed on my cleavage. So much for keeping it quiet then. I had 2 other presents delivered during the day, one-handed garden shears and a bottle of Stolly from the WB. Oh, and a beautiful and anonymous bunch of flowers, although I do have my suspicions. Wow, It’s not been like this for years, not since me old RFH days. I was quite overcome.

Friday evening’s work consisted of going to the Beeb with RH who was in town for a weekend of promo. We finished up by 8.30 and RH suggested that a few of us go back to his hotel for drinks as it’s ‘codenamelizzy’s birthday. Although he doesn’t really need an excuse I was really happy to be invited and indeed the cause for a celebration. RH’s my favourite artist at work and a beautiful man whether he’s talking or singing. The bar that served Guinness had a pianist and my flashing cleavage (yes I still had it on!) led to a special rendition of happy birthday and an opportunity to request a song. During the day a colleague offered to play any music that I wanted and I chose the Bees Gees. Perfect for a Friday in the office. During ‘How Deep is Your Love’ He Who Cannot Be Named texted me a beautiful birthday message which led to tear filled eyes and then actually to tears. So I requested that. I’m soft as a bag of tits. That’s how RH described how soft he is to a cinema full of people earlier, so I’m stealing it. As well as brilliant company, not having to pay for a thing, RH also gave me another present. He gave me a CD that he had been looking for for years and had only just found, as that’s all he had with him and he wanted me to have it. How nice is that? Due to a hefty schedule and a packed weekend I booked a cab for 12.30. Not because I wanted to go but because I really should. I was leaving only very reluctantly so it was a real wrench to go when HW grabbed my arms, looked into my eyes and sang with a voice like velvet “don’t go sweet codenamelizzy don’t go”. There were more words but I was in such a daze I can’t remember them. Somehow I stuck to my resolve and got in the cab, which I was no less escorted to and sent off with a kiss of the cheek. I elegantly got in my cab and told him “I’m gonna have to blog this”.

carry on camping

I’m back after 4 nights of camping in Pevensey Bay with Perry.

The morning of our departure could easily have turned into a disaster when Perry announced that he hadn’t booked us in as agreed, asserting that it would be fine as it was only a field. I gently explained that all campsites are only fields and that the UK is in the middle of a heat wave so we had better ring to check availability. I’ve been going camping since I was a toddler and the first thing that my mammy would say when dad would suggest camping was “I’m not going anywhere unless it’s booked” and the words rang in my ears as I once again accepted that we all turn into our mothers eventually.

On ringing the site we discovered that it was full. There was only a minute wobble on hearing this and we both tried hard to stay calm and immediately got to work by getting on-line and ringing around sites in the area. We were thrilled when the first site that we got through to could fit us in. Success and so with only a 20 minute delay and a slight change in destination we set off in the blazing sun for Eastbourne saddled with heavy back packs and tents that catered for just about everything. The site was great and our pitch was huge. It was further away from the castle, pubs and shops but with a campsite shop and the beach only 50 metres away there’s really no reason to complain about anything and we settled in easily. We agreed that we would save evening pub visits for times when it might rain and a routine of waking, walking to the pub for lunch and coming back with food and lager was ideal for relaxing in the sunshine.

On the first evening we got some sausages and a miniature bar-b-que and raided a skip near the tent for inventions that would stop us scorching the grass, an unforgivable camping sin that all too many people ignore. We settled on a bit of wood with a drinks crate underneath and thought that we were really very clever. All was going to plan until the direction of the wind changed and was pretty quickly blowing with some force. A storm was definitely on the way. We had steeled ourselves for the possibility of rain and laughed it off as an excuse for an early visit to the pub. However we soon turned glum when the fast wind cremated the sausages and set fire to the wood and ultimately to the plastic crate underneath it. I quickly moved the wood and bar-b-que with my Leatherman and Perry threw a bottle of water onto the crate and extinguished the flames. After all the precautions we had taken in order to be good campers it was a horrible feeling staring at the burnt grass. Luckily the burnt bits were easily scraped away with my tool and after a couple of days of watering the patch it was better than new. Phew.

Somehow we went on to eat the charcoal sausages and determined to forget the days 2 calamities as everything was now peachy. The incoming thunder and lightning were nothing compared to the excitement of the whole day and we wondered off to stare at the sea in the rain and returned to camp just in time to see an amazing sunset before walking to the harbour so Perry could have a cold beer. We had hoped to go to The Star but luckily bumped into the site lady on the way who informed us that it was miles away. We became used to hearing that response when enquiring about directions during our stay. Sometimes it was true and sometimes it wasn’t. It’s always like that in the country.

The walk to the harbour was fun but arduous in it’s own way as we got unlucky with crossing the water in the same way that people get caught in traffic lights. On seeing a neon Harvester sign we ran to it and revelled in cold drinks, seats and a bingo machine. We ignored the carpet and the fact that we were in a Harvester and had a lot of fun before returning to camp to get our things to sit on the beach and watch the spectacle of far away thunder and lightning for what seemed like hours. Somehow I managed to convince Perry that to take away the slight chill in our bodies what we needed was a lovely hot shower. It felt very refreshing and we settled down to lantern lit cards before stumbling into bed very late.

The first thing that I realised on waking was that we had managed to drink a litre bottle of vodka, plus 4 cans of lager and drinks in the pub. We were on holiday after all. It was a couple of hours before I felt human and we ambled off to the Crown Inn for a hearty pub lunch and a calamity free day of cards in camp. I made a very unadventurous soup and bread for tea but I gained points by improvising Perry’s stand up parasol umbrella from home into a very effective wind shelter. We were truly set up by then and had a cool bag / rented ice block system that ensured Perry had ice-cold beers throughout the day. We played cards for hours simply adapting from lantern light to candle light when we got through the batteries in 2 lamps. We gazed again at the sunset and as the sun went down we glimpsed a section of a halo on the cirrostratus cloud. It was magical. As the clouds cleared we were able to see the mighty Milky Way. I was truly happy.

The next day began majestically and we hit the beach straight away and were refreshed by our early dip. After basking in the breaking waves we made plans for the day. We decided to get rid of our tee-shirt tans with a nice walk to Pevensey Castle and a pub lunch in the Smugglers Inn. I had been cashless for the whole day and feeling fairly impotent we were walking to Pevensey Bay for an ATM when yet another calamity hit us. It seemed that whoever had booked us in had been a complete idiot as the site had been completely full every weekend from Easter until the end of the summer season. By this time we knew the area quite well and knew of another site very near us but we were still hoping to get the booking checked and some sort of customer care to resolve the situation as we marched back to site in silence staring at the ground. It soon became very clear that we had to move and the gentle but persistent pleas of “check our booking” and “this will ruin our holiday” met with a repeated “we all fully booked. There is nothing we can do’. Seeing there was no way out of the situation I retorted “yes, well maybe you will have some vacancies when people realise that they are next to a building site”. For we had been as the area is going through huge development. We hadn’t really minded and only noticed a stone grinder every now and just then it felt good to chuck that in her snooty face. It was a small comfort when to add insult to injury we discovered that someone had nicked Perry’s brolly.

We quietly packed up and walked to the new site and erected our tents again. I tried to see the good in the situation and determined to put my tent up in showroom condition. You have to find fun where you can. The new site was quieter and a bit more open and we were fine apart from food and lager less. There was no camp shop as it had been forced to close by the local Asda and we ran off there for supplies before stopping at the very hard to find in the daylight Harvester for a cold beer. This time, relatively sober, it was an ordeal with Asda being no more fun so when we found out the food we had bought was useless as there was no disposable bar-b-ques Perry showed no hesitation in spending a tenner on a cheap one. We got a cab back to site and chilled and dined on a hearty feast. Perry cooked. I could barely move after a day walking in the sun plus I hate bar-b-qued food. Luckily Perry knows this and didn’t burn anything. Yummy ribs and salad under the Milky Way. The night was cooler and a layer of dew gave Perry ice-cold beers. I found a big cardboard box and invented a table/stroke windbreaker. I was very happy: well fed, well vodkaed and my tea shirt tan area was covered by a layer of pink colour. But after a long day of not letting things get to us and walking in the hot sun, sometimes with our gear, I was knocked out. The first game of cards seemed to last at least an hour and I crumbled and topped up with water and turned into my lovely cosy sleeping bag at Midnight for a staggering 10 ½ hour sleep.

Saturday was another scorcher and we sat in the sun an hour before I realised that my back had gone red and I was dangerously close to burning. I did a quick scan of the area and found 2 spare poles and manufactured them in a canopy and basked under it in a steady breeze until hunger called us. Saturday was the day that Friday should have been as we walked to the pub for lunch and chilled on the beach until we remembered that we were leaving that day and had to pack. The last day of a holiday is always a bit weird as one struggles with wanting to stay, begin to mentally prepare for work and have to pack and get on the train. I was fairly quiet as we travelled home back who can blame me? I had a lovely time and my berry coloured skin is tanning fast.

i've got my life back

Ssssssh, just showed Ray my blog. I’ve just agreed on a codename for him, it’s Perry. As in "Mr Patterson, Mrs Patterson.

Perry has done himself proud and bought himself a lovely 2-bedroomed place in TH where he can rejoice in leaving the bog seat up. He has a garden where he allows me to practice gardening. Real get down dirty gardening, digging up weeds and stuff. As I type it’s the things that dreams are made of (for me), the gentle blowing of leaves in huge trees. Patio doors 1-foot from the couch. Somehow earlier I managed to reclaim 1 foot of HIS garden from the neighbours too. I noticed that the garden ends before his flat and he checked the Land Registry records on line (he’s a bit of a boffin like TH) and what would you know he can reclaim land. I practiced the phrase “get off my land” and I’m sure that he will join in soon.

i'm not ashamed

Justin is back!!!!

Phhooooooorrrrr.

i can’t wait to have a garden #717

Apart from my daily watch for Jupiter and Mars and my physical need to see the moon in the sky whenever possible (lovely low slung big bright full moon due tonight), I’ve been neglecting the sky of late. June and July are not good months for amateur astrologers as the sky is so bright, even at night. We have to wait until September for spectacular sunsets. And until lately the sky has been inundated with grey clouds leaving everyone, apart from the Shark, cursing them out of the sky. But it ends here. Thanks to The Cloudspotter’s Guide I am looking skywards during the day again. In the evening sky tonight we have ‘Altostratus’, known as the boring cloud, until pierced with sun or moonlight.