mammy

So I rang me Mammy to wish her a happy new year. Traditionally I call her on the stroke of Midnight but this year I might be in bed, so I put the call in early. I told her that I wasn't going out. Laughing, she tells me "Oh, my Liz dear. You've grown up." It's the curse of being the youngest of 6. I'm 40 mother. Four 0.

Celebrity Big Brother Watch

Coming soon.

shadows of love

i live very near a goldsmith's art studio doncha know.

storm

I saw the calm before the storm.























Then the storm. It was over in a minute.

shark's tree

tilly & hugo

Poor codenamed is ill and feeling sorry for herself.
But look who’s coming for an overnight stay.


And Pappa Nicole too.

cnl is not on facebook right now

Codenamelizzy is tiring of the one line blog, otherwise known as facebook. Oh wait, I don’t need to talk like that here. And safe within the cloak of anonymity I can say what I like. Te he he. With the evenings drawing in I’m done in the garden and decorating by 6.30. Darkness suddenly encompasses all and I’m drawn into my fantastically bling living room, a room that was had absolutely no attraction, but bags of potential, just a few short weeks ago. And the overwhelming lure of the blog. It’s not quite Belle de Jour but I enjoy it.

Both a weekend at Meeshy Moo’s and lending Papa Nicole’s husband last weekend has transformed this room for me and hence my evenings. Oh my god I love it in here. For a start I am warm. Adding fabric has made it warm both physically and spiritually (man). I am reclining on a fantastic fake fur throw. My lush new mulberry curtains block out sound, shadows and shivers. My stereo is hooked up and I am listening to a fantastic album. Full blast – no neighbours! When I feel the need, there’s a brilliant mirror to disco dance in just behind me. Life is sweet. The only thing that could improve this room is a paint, which I plan to do over my outrageously long xmas break, a rug and a laptop. The laters I will fix soon.

When I look at my life this time last year and my life now I giggle. For a start I was living in my lovely big bro’s spare bedroom, surrounded by boxes, while today I roam freely from garden to room to gorgeous room. It’s taken 6 months but it’s CNL’s at last. And so during more home improvements I spent the whole day today with my parents and loved it. Sure by the time they left I was knackered and absolutely gagging for a fag and a drink, but I spent the whole day with them and loved it. We were erecting a fence and pruning my evergreens. This is now my idea of fun. Not forgetting all the very expensive materials being provided by the same big bro. Plus I have my oldest and dearest friends back in my life, reconciliations brought about by the great fire of 2006 (hate to mention it REALLY).

Me being so greedy, there is one more thing that I’d love everyone. It’s if you, my real friends. not that facebook lot, could start blogging. I miss you all badly. Especially the ones so far away from me. Scrabble smabble. This is a rallying call. Come on everyone. Blog – you know you want to. Yes, even you.

glastonbury 07

There was mud!

aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrgggggggghhh

I was sitting here watching bb8, minding my own business, and suddenly I felt the need to look down, sixth sense or something. Errrrrr. There was a little face looking at me like a cute puppy, 2 little tentacles and a trail of slim all over my tee-shirt. A bleeding slug. I flicked it off and now I can’t find it. It must have fallen down a floorboard. Please tell me that they cannot reproduce on their own.

I still love having a garden and I’ve been in it all day but I am still learning. Today I discovered that a fox had eaten a whole plant that I had planted at the weekend. And more ants……. The words to Ant Music blaring in my head as I lay down the powder.

simply dread

Oh my God.
They've put Mick Hucknall in the house.

recognition at last

I knew it!
Howlllllllllllll

revisions

Leslie the 60-year old woman
She is grotesquely boring and I’d like her out first

Charley, the 20 year old pretty black girl
The first to crack and cry. Is she all mouth or manipulating the viewer?
It may have been the booing she got on the way in. She totally alienated the crowd immediately, who shouted “get a job”.

Tracy the 36-year old woman raver cleaner
I HATE HER. Her day 1 “we are the chosen few” chant is no more, on only day 2! Totally alienated but what did she expect?

Chanelle aka Victoria Beckham
One she minute is lovely and shows potential for being bright and the next it's “WAG this, Victoria Beckham that, la la”

Laura the Welsh bird
Even though she looks and sometimes acts scarily like this in a brunette

I love her. So genuine. There for the experience. She’s the only one to have said something like…”I’m glad the boys aren’t here, so we get to know some of the girls who would be chasing them normally.

Carol the 53 year old Jo Brand look a like
So, she’s not who she said she was. I’ve warmed to her a little but please no more flashing her boobys and wearing swim-suits.

Oh, and they are sending a man in.

it's back

Early prediction

I reckon it’s all going to be birds at first.

Yawn….all the rooms are mixed up, bath in living room etc.

There’s a phone.

Some of them will have to share beds.

Scouse girl twins, Sam and Amanda – they like bleach, pink, screaming and talking quickly while high pitched and breathless.
High point: one likes cheese and one doesn’t
I hate them already.
Stone em.

Leslie, 60-year old woman.
Oh dear, thinks she’s a self-confessed eccentric.
Should be in How Dull is Your Home
Out Out Out

Charley, a 20 year old pretty black girl
Shops and that. Clubbing innit.
Her cousin is a footballer and she wants to be a slag, I mean WAG.

Tracy, 36-year old woman raver cleaner
Think Jade Goody’s Mum combined with a Little Bit Wee, a Little Bit Woo from The Fast Show
Thinks she’s having it. No way.
Cannot stand her but will be popular in a Pete way

Chanelle!!!!, need I say more
Bases her image on Victoria Beckham
Feck off

Shandam (spelllng)
Narinder the second, mixed with Amy Winehouse and Bet Lynch
Best so far but that is saying nuffink

Emily, 19 year old posh blonde bird, at drama school
Thinks she’s Sienna Miller and that indie is a 'new' music scene that has swept the country
Bleeding heck
So cooool NOT

Laura, 23 Welsh Beth from The Gossip look a likey
Bet she likes blinking, even though she’s a brunette
Likes cooking, and eating by the looks of things
Fun. Likes DIY. I like her the most so far
Good chance of going somewhere

Nicky 27 year old really pretty Indian girl
But 1/2 Oirsish so Catholic
Must be mixed up surely
Hates men. Could be interesting
Nice and ballsy. Will do well

Carol 53 year old Jo Brand look a like
Campaigner.
Has an agenda. Think Kittin in race stakes
Crowd loved her but house won't
OUT FIRST PLEASE VOTERS

Hmmm

codename titchmarsh

Of course I LOVE having a garden but there is so much to learn everyday. When I came back from my brilliant long weekend at Meeshy Moo’s my basil and dill were drowned, although the parsley and coriander had gone mental! And to think that I was worried about drought conditions before I left. Nearly all my apple blossoms were on the lawn due to high winds. Boo, now I’ve got hardly any apples growing. Apple leafs all over the lawn. Every day. That need to be raked every day, good job I love it. Apparently apple trees are among the first to lose their leafs. The following morning there were 3 curious mounds of earth on the lawn. I thought it was that damn cat at first and investigated with a stick. There was a pile of loose earth in a mound and loads of little white things that were moving and looked liked maggots. Yuck, anthills. No one wants them on their lawn. Daddy said to get rid, as they would be in the house next. So, after consulting the secretary (as she like to be known) at work and the tinernet, I decided that hot water was the best policy. As Mummy said “they don’t like that”. Bro advised not to use too much as they are such clever blighters that they build a u-bend. They’ve cleared off to someone else now. I watched them scattering around the garden with eggs in their pincers. I spent the next couple of nights worrying that they would storm the bedroom.

I also discovered that the pesky cat was getting a lot nearer to my chicks, were by this time singing really loudly. Watching the Mum and Dad take turns going into the bird box feeding with worms and slugs was a joy to me. So you can imagine my codenamed fury when I came home from work the next day to find my bird box on the floor. It was dark, so the chicks would have been quiet anyway and the parents were in their own nest for the night. I didn’t know if they were dead or alive. All I knew was that I hated the cat. I texted hewhocanbenamednowthatimoverhim for advice. He’s a bigger twitcher than me. He advised me to replace the box with the minimum of fuss and hope that the parents returned to feed in the morning. I did as I was told and tied the box to the tree as an extra measure. Thank God I did as after a sleepless night, I discovered that my chicks were alive but also found the pesky cat in the tree trying to knock it down again with it’s paw. Grrrrrrr. That night I concocted an invention. I cut holes in 2 cardboard boxes and put one around the trunk and one around a low branch so that the cat couldn’t get up again.

By this time it was the weekend so I was able to be on sentry duty all day Saturday and Sunday. The cat knew to stay away. To my dismay I discovered that they were now a one-parent family. I discovered feathers on the lawn and next thing the cat turns up with a bell on it’s collar. It must have surprised it’s owner with a present that they couldn’t stomach. Still at least the chicks were alive. They’ve flown the bird box now and I’m a bit gutted that I missed it. Mummy and daddy told me about a nest full of wrens who lined up on their wall and flew off one by one. I would have loved to see something like that.

Other stuff: the grass seed that I put down in patches has taken; my potatoes have gone mental with flowers at least a foot and a half over their barrel; I planted 6 tomato plants during the week; in the evening my garden smells of beautiful lavender; my wall hanging wall pots are blooming with purple pansies and purple geraniums, among other things. And a tip, weeds are best left to get a couple of inches long, no more though, as they are easier to pull out.

The best thing that I’ve discovered in the garden is that I am going to be able to watch amazing sunsets come August-September. I love it.

lager lager lager

At last I have found a use for the 2 cans of Fosters that were left in my fridge, and, ahem, then hidden in my larder. The ivy that I banished from the garden was a breeding ground for slugs and snails and I have inherited a plague of em. But it seems the blighters can’t resist lager. They climb in, drink, flail about and then and rendered useless. Sound familiar?

maybe some day

It’s been a typical Bank Holiday for me. Sun, rain, drinking and DIY, with a stressful family visit thrown in. After torrential rain a strong wind has blown the clouds and everything else away. Sirens are blaring everywhere under a clear blue sky.

I’ve been painting my bedroom. Here’s the before and after.


It’s really hard to take a picture that captures the whole room. I’ll have to get the firestarter round, although now it’s May goodness knows when she’ll be free. So I’ve duplicated the Estate Agent picture.
I’ve decided that I like it, which is a relief. Light reflects on the floorboards and the lilac reflects on the ceiling. Yum. I think that I’ll really enjoy being in there. I nearly decided against purple. According to Feng Shui principles the majority of the house should be painted red and yellow. But I can do that in the other rooms eh. Plus, a girl in work told me that she heard people with purple bedrooms never have sex in it. This did alarm me at first but I went way back (cough) to my last flat and I do remember that not being the case. Then she admitted it was some mad woman who told her this in the first place. I hope to prove her very wrong and hopefully soon!

Now all I need is some furniture. Oh yeah, and a man.

belt up

Hurrah. I saw the nephews last night. As is the tradition, on seeing me the youngest, F, immediately had a go at something I was wearing. He said my belt was weird. When I explained that it used to belong to a big pop star he looked close to taking it back. “Who?” he demanded, “Vince Clarke.” My brother’s eyebrow twitched to represent impressed. He’s a man of few words. “Who’s he?” F cried. “Depeche Mode, Erasure” I said proudly. “Who?” he repeated as I lost all cred. Something similar happened later when he asked me, as he does every time I see him, what I do for a living. I told him that I work for a record company and for once he looked impressed…..until I rolled off the list of artists and again he said “who?’. Pah. He’s a strange one. Everyone likes their parent’s music when they are young, but Keith Moon! Is this healthy in a 6 year old? Imagine my delight when I noticed a small pair of Converse baseball boots in Mum’s hall. “Oi” I said, “how come when I wore a pair of these last year you said they were “weird” shoes?”. A ha. One up.

I like to bring them something every time I see them and this time I brought a huge fabric balloon that inflates with a hair drier. Brilliant I thought, even though I was on the way to my parent’s house. They are nearly 80 and are unlikely to have a hair dryer. My Mum always used mine when I lived at home. But I thought my Dad would have some contraption to inflate it with and went ahead and bought it. He didn’t let me down and we went to work with an air compressor. On seeing how slow it was my Dad said to leave it for half an hour. But 5 minutes later big bro arrived and laughed at and unplugged our contraption. He then proceeded to inflate the balloon in minutes with a hot air fan blowing through a long plastic tube, supported by a metal saw, as it was so hot. The show off. But you can see where I get it from. The kids, big bro being the worst culprit, took about 3 minutes to hit the balloon so high that it floated in the neighbour’s garden on a gust of wind. It’s brilliant though and they gave it back. I’m going to give one to Lovely L next weekend. It’s his birthday and I’m going up to Meeshy Moo’s for 4 nights to celebrate it with them. That's more or less a holiday.



Don’t think I that I don’t like my garden anymore but I’ve been decorating inside today. I hate the colour of my bedroom walls you see. This picture will probably only mean something to Sharkster, TH and the firecatster. Before the New Yorkers left for Oz they came around to visit my pad on their last night, oh no, their ‘second’ last night in London. Te he. Everyone loved it, although the finned one took on an immediate horror to the pseudo brass airbrick covers in the bedroom and living room. Shark, the horro has ended. I’m decorating my bedroom, which as you can see is a disgusting shade of mustard. In time honoured tradition I shall be painting it purple. 2 nice shades of warm purple, one dark one bright. Yum.

On my fresh air breaks today I’ve been bird watching in the garden. I’m proud to say that the tits that built a nest in the bird box have become parents. How big are the balls on these tits? (Pity my nephews aren’t about to snigger at that.) I mean, they have to face next door’s cat everyday, me screaming and yelling all the time and even a Long Good Friday with a chainsaw (more of that some other time). They feed constantly and totally ignore me, on the way in and out, less than a metre away. A bit brighter that the wood pigeon then. After I had a sandwich earlier one of the pair came right up to me to eat the crumbs I had shaken away. That’s brave I thought, until it noticed my foot and shat itself.

getting used to blogging again

Last week saw the arrival of the Seffo clan visiting the UK as part of Seffo’s European tour. I met their beautiful 1 1/2 year old baby boy A for the first time. Seffo hasn’t been to the UK for over a year due to Green Card something or other. Times flies. I was embarrassed when he told me that I hadn’t visited LA in 7 years. But with a new beautiful baby boy to hang out with, I don’t think I’ll be leaving it so long (I want one).

I have quite a lot of experience with boys now and as I recently discovered, when Meeshy Moo was down with her 2 kids, boys love to bang things. I bought Lovely P a cute Minny Mouse swimsuit and Lovely L a little baseball set. I was a little worried that he would hit his sister with it, but it was really soft and we all agreed that there could be no harm in it. Typically Lovely L found the best bit releasing the ball on the automatic pitcher and proceeded to slap and bang it about. Boy see. Eventually he grabbed Lovely L ball and Lovely L bat and had a go. Suddenly disaster struck. The bat made a breaking glass sound when struck. This led to a breaking glass symphony. How could it all go so wrong? Why would Disney do that? Luckily Lovely L is a good boy and it didn’t occur to him to strike his little sister. I give that kind of good behaviour another year. Smelly boys. So, anytime A got gnarly during lunch (lack of sleep) I banged the table making him laugh out loud with his toothy grin. He really is the image of his Daddy, but not in the adult baby Damian Hurley way. Oh no, he’s so cute and by all accounts wakes up smiling. It really is a scream seeing Seffo coo cooing.

On the Friday Seffo had been invited to give a filmed interview about his time at the RFH. He agreed but asked if myself and How Much Have You Got could be interviewed with him. It was a scream. I was really nervous before hand but like the time I did karaoke, as soon as a microphone was stuck under my nose, I couldn’t shut up. It lasted 1 1/2 hours. The three of us together again felt good and reminded me of just how good those times were and how many wonderful friends I made. Every single one of my friends now, bar none, I met through the RFH in one-way or another. Some I lost contact with over the years, but the great fire of 2006 brought us all back together. It’s true, you really do find out who are your good friends when something like that happens. And I’m really lucky. : )

knackered

saturday morning fever

It’s Heavenly here. I’m up with the birdies (well before 8) with papers, Twiglets and coffee in the garden minutes later (God knows what the man in the garage thinks of me going in there in my pyjamas with my hair sticking out and sleep in my eyes). I’m always itching to go by half past.

It’s only me, the birds and the pesky next-door cat up at that time but by nine windows are opening and I even got a wave this morning as I hung out my washing. The joy I get from being able to dry my washing outside is staggering. I have to do it on Saturdays. Round here it seems to be lawn mowing, DIY and kids playing day. It’s a regular diet of chain saws, mowers and kids laughing and screaming until they inevitably go too far and end up crying. Whereas on Sundays the bar-b-qs kick off at Noon and go on alllll day. Ha ha, People talk rot when they’ve been on yucky park bench tinned larger all day. Not that I’m a snoop but Bank Holidays seem to be adults crying and arguing loudly day.

The birds are busy round here first thing until they clear off for the day, returning early evening. I’ve got some tits building a nest in my bird house, a jay who pops by around 8amish, a couple of wood pigeons and an army of his and her robins. They are the cleverest birds by far and visit as soon as they see a garden tool in my hand, just waiting to swoop up the worms and the slugs. They’re not remotely interested in the seeds I leave out. Proper meat-eaters. They are also the most daring and regularly come within inches of me.