Happy Halloween! I know I’ve posted this early, but we’re off out again tomorrow so I don’t know if I’ll get the chance. Matt and I finished our pumpkins – Himself asked why mine had ears. He is so stupid at times – so it can hear of course!

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I had an absolutely brilliant, super duper, wonderful time at Warwick Castle – I was most definitely in my element, I’d forgotten how much pleasure I get walking round historic buildings.

I’ve taken loads of photos – Himself even took some for me from the top of the towers. I gave him detailed instructions on what I wanted him to achieve and stood back and watched while holding onto the wall behind me – just in case it moved. Heights are things that happen to other people. The gardens were designed by Lancelot "Capability" Brown and extremely beautiful even through summer is over.

We also had a walk around Warwick – which wasn’t as big as I’d expected and stopped for a bite to eat in a pub.

On the way back we made a detour via Strafford-on-Avon and spent a couple of hours mooching around there – yet more photos where taken and then back home.

I’m now tired and looking forward to a nice soak in the bath, accompanied by a glass of wine and my book – what a nice way to finish off my day.

I did try to add some photos but blogger wouldn't let me so I'll have to try again another day

Himself left me yesterday, he took Matt with him as well….he couldn’t stand spending any more time with me. OK, he came back again – he only went to see his brother, anything to get away from the grumpy bitch that he was married to. I’m not a nice person when I’m tired – I’d pick a fight with my own shadow – and oh boy, was I in a foul mood. He knows when to run, my husband – nothing he said or did was right – self preservation kicked in and he decided as it was over two weeks since he’d seen his brother – he really should pay him a visit. Coward!

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I glad to say I’m in a much better mood today – probably because the clocks went forward an hour, so I had even longer in bed than normal. The clocks went forward on our wedding night too, all those years ago – unfortunately at the time we’d forgotten about it. We got up really early because I didn’t want to be in last one down for breakfast – only to find we were the first. We stopped our wedding night in a small local hotel – which I’d book months before. I’d asked for a double room, what I didn’t know at the time was I should have asked for one with a double bed. We opened the door to find two singles – and all the other rooms were booked. We tried pushing them together, but you just ended up falling down the hole in the middle. We slept on just the one in the end – after we’d spent nearly half an hour trying to figure out how to turn off the combined TV, video, radio and alarm clock. It woke us the next morning at six – not that we’d got much sleep. No, we weren’t at it all night – it was just that it wasn’t all that comfortable; we kept elbowing and kicking each other. So we got up when the alarm went off - which is about the time I found out I hadn’t packed a hair brush – I sent Himself to a local shop to purchase a comb – I wasn’t prepared to go downstairs looking like I been pulled through a hedge backwards - what would people think we'd been up to!

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We went and looked around the local car boot this morning – I found a book on how to get the best from your digital photographs. This sentence will strike fear into the very hearts of my family and friends - Yes....new and inventive ways to torture them. Not only will they now have to - notice I say 'have to', they don't get much of choice in the matter – look at the original photos, I’m going to start sending them altered one – so they will get the same picture more than once. You’re right – they are extremely lucky people aren’t they?

Later we look the dogs for a walk in the forest – and just so I’d have something to work on, I look the camera. Yes, the lucky so and so's will be receiving some pretty amazing photos shortly of fungi, mushrooms and leaves.

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I’ve received several e-mail’s over the last few days asking when I’m updating again – I would just like to point out that as you lot couldn’t even be bothered to post comments about my cloud – I’m going to keep you waiting – the shoe is on the other foot, so to speak. Nah, not really…I’m writing the next JJ now, which I should hopefully finish shortly. It will then wing its way to Scally and Chris – after which I will receive several thousand ‘Ahems’ and ‘FULL STOP’ back in reply, and make the changes before posting - anything to stop the nagging. Scally is no longer the easy option – pedantic slave driver that she is *grin* - as I found out to my cost when writing Montgomery’s Birthday story – which by the way I am still waiting for his comments on – he’s not normal this slow in making his thoughts known, just the opposite in fact - he’s to busy enjoying himself to bother about it *sniff*. Oh, OK, he having a great time at the moment and I’m really pleased for him, he’s a nice chap and he deserves it – Scally just deserve a large wooden spoon *Laughs*.

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I’m off to visit Warwick Castle tomorrow – Himself has agreed to come home instead of staying overnight. With everything that’s going on for me at the moment I didn't want to stay away – I feel safe here and need to work out what the hell I’m going to do about hating someone. Hate is such a strong word and negative to boot, but what I’m feeling at the moment is a lot more than anger. It’s dawned on me over the last two days just how much my feelings are holding me back – I hadn’t even acknowledge I felt this way until then and it came as a bit of a shock, what sort of person hates another person. But I can't deny how I'm feeling, it was buried deep inside me and has been materialising itself in other ways for an awfully long time – I just didn’t recognise it for what it was. Kicking the shite out of the door for starters – some little thing would happen and I’d blow it out of all proportion. So another step forward – I certainly hope so - maybe the end will be in sight soon.

I can’t sleep, too much going round and round in my mind - so I've decided to write my blog early.

I had a panic attack at work yesterday morning, it’s been ages since I had my last one. The icy cold feeling of dread deep in my stomach, accompanied by the sensation of fear was enough to make me physically sick. I rang Himself and he talked me through it – it’s the one time I am so grateful for mobiles. We developed the technique a while after they first started - I was having up to three a day at one point. Although he can’t hold me, just the sound of his voice starts to calm me down. Irrational it may be, but I can no more control the feelings as control the shaking and increased heart rate that goes with it. It’s not nice and I wouldn’t wish it on my worse enemy. I don’t know whether it’s the tablets, I ran out on Sunday so I was without until Thursday or recalling memories that have triggered it. I refused to go home – but it was dinner time before I really started to feel better. I tried to carry on as normal but I found I had trouble sitting still and kept walking about. It's the not knowing when it's going to happen that gets me - I thought they'd stopped. I'd been in a bright mood when I'd arrived at work and I'd been working on a claim just before hand - so not knowing what triggered it maked it worse somehow. Himself did offer to come and pick me up and although part of me really wanted that to happen - I so badly wanted to be with him - I said no, I was straying at work. I couldn't let myself give into it, sometimes being stubbon has its advantages - if I'm ever going to get over this I have to face it myself. Just to acknowledge that fact is a major step forward for me - it's easier to run and hide than face your fears, and I've been running long enough.

The day didn’t get any better either – I had to deal with an issue involving a client carrying a knife. It was just bloody typical that I was the only senior manager in the building at the time. It never rains but it pours – just what I needed, tons of paperwork to complete, along with all the phone calls that I had to make. These things are never straight forward and I could have really done without it.

The meal out I'm glad to say, was much better. We walked to the pub, that way both of us could have a drink. There is something immensely satisfying about walking through fallen leaves and kicking them up in the air. We had a lovely meal, look some silly photos and basically after just two glasses of wine, I was very merry. They were large glasses mind and I hadn’t eaten since breakfast – but I’d parted company with that so it probably didn’t count. Alcohol sends me to sleep, I’d felt exhausted to start with so it didn’t take long for me to decided that I wanted to go to bed – 8.30pm and I’m out for the count.

I woke up when Himself came to bed, about 11.00pm – was Matt in? I asked. No, Himself replied, he’d be in soon - don’t start (who me?) - go back to sleep. As if - OK, Matt’s nearly 17, but we have an agreement that he’s home by 11pm unless he phones first. He gets the 50 questions; where is he? What are they doing? When will he be home – we negotiate a time, etc… you get the idea. So I lay in bed clock watching. Ten minutes later, Himself is snoring merrily and I decide to get up and ring Matt’s mobile. It’s turned off – the reason being it’s on charge in the kitchen. No panic - I sit on the sofa and wait another ten minutes – it’s now nearly 11.40pm and still no Matthew. OK, I’ll ring Josh – bound to be with him. No he isn’t, Josh has been out and hasn’t seen him all night. So I then ring Amber, Jess and John all in that order – they haven’t seen him since 8.00pm. I will admit to being slightly worried by this stage – you already know I don’t lack imagination. 11.55pm I ring Tracy – he often goes to see Dan, who at 19 believes that going to bed before 4.00am is bad for you. I woke her up, she had that I’m still half asleep voice – was Matthew there. Er…she didn’t think so (OK, full panic mode about to kick in) – she’d shout Nathan, he was with him earlier. Nathan gets woken up – he was still at the British Legion when Nat had left at 10.45. Really?…It’s right by Tracy’s house and she could see the shutter where still up. So I telephoned the British Legion and surprise, surprise, Matthew was still there playing darts. Thank you Trevor, maybe you could tell him I'd like him to come home now – SO I CAN KILL THE LITTLE SOD WITH MY BARE HANDS!

I phoned Trace back to tell her and awaited the arrival the prodigal son, who turned up 5 minutes later. I blew a gasket – he got stroppy (can’t for the life of me imagine where he gets that from). After a heating discussion, with both of us trying not to shout – I learn that he had in fact told his Dad where he was going. Really?…here we go again. I then wake Himself up to give him an ear bashing – poor sod didn’t know what hit him. He’d told me Matt would be in soon, he said. Well he hadn’t fecking well told me where he was, now had he!

It ended up with Himself apologising to me – and me apologising to Matt. Matt very graciously gave me a cuddle – I made the most of it, it doesn’t happen very often these days – it’s not cool. The trouble is of course that he’s growing up – you spent all that time and energy trying to keep them safe and protect them from the minute they are born that you fail to recognise that they are no longer children. You’ve fielded them from inappropriate television programmes, the Wicked World of the Web and warned them of Stranger Danger – it becomes second nature. It’s a difficult time for any parent, trying to get the balance right and it isn’t any easier the second time round. I can still remember Stee going to his first gig in Wolverhampton, I was a nervous wreck by the time he came home. I also remember giving him some condoms – yes, I’m an embarrassing mother – but I wanted him to be safe. It’s OK, he said, I’ve already got some *sticks fingers in ears, la la la la la*. I used to walk though Stephen’s room with my eyes closed – there are some things a mother shouldn’t know about her son’s sex life. Only last year he rang me on my mobile whilst I was Christmas shopping in Merry Hill - could I get him a present for Lucy so he didn’t have to go up there after work. Yes, no problem - what did he have in mind. Could I go into Anne Summers and get a Rampant Rabbit Vibrator.…..Well, yes, I suppose so. When he came to collect it the next day, I told him that most mother’s were just asked to buy perfume and not sex toys. He grinned and said that I wasn’t like most mothers - he hadn’t embarrassed me had he?

Himself decided to throw himself down the stairs last night – OK, only the last 4 steps and he didn’t get hurt – just made a lot of noise. And to think he complains if I swear! Our stairs are made of concrete and very steep – the house was built just after the Second World War and each one up the road is slight different. None of the walls are level either – which also makes Himself swear. It’s great being married to someone who’s good at DIY most of the time – especially if I’m not in the house when he decided to pick up tools – he’s got this really funny idea that I’m a builder mate. Nothing could be further from the truth – I get bored easily, then I start to mess with things. Just like the time I cut my finger on the Stanley knife, I was only going to change the blade.

We have to gut every room we decorate. When working on our bedroom, Himself decided to look at all the loose floorboards and stop them from squeaking when you walked over them. He basically put extra screws in, not a problem and Stee helped so he didn’t need my assistance – I could be foreman and watch. They had a bit of a problem with the one floorboard; it wasn’t sitting in place very well. Now here's an idea, Himself would stand on it and Stee would be in charge of the screwdriver. No, still a problem – take it out again, said Himself. Now I have never pretended to be the world most knowledgeable when it comes to DIY, but even I had an inkling that the sound of hissing that could be heard as the screw was removed probably wasn’t the greatest of omens. The strong smell of gas that accompanied it sort of confirmed my initial feelings. Nothing happened for a couple of seconds. Have you ever seen three adult try to get through a door at the same time? – I’d imagine it looked quite funny. Of course we couldn't find the key that opened the gas box – why don’t you put things away where they can be found, Himself said. Excuse me? When did I become the Keeper of the Keys. We got it open eventually and turned the gas off and then had to wait for Andy to come out and repair it.

He a bloody perfectionist as well – if it’s not exactly right, he starts again. Aren’t you lucky, people say - he does such a good job. Yes, and whilst that is very true they fail to notice the time scale involved. A year and a half to finish the bathroom. The problem being the house was adapted for my mum – so the bathroom had a walk in shower, toilet and sink. He eventually got the bath in one Christmas Eve – it was the best present he had ever given me. OK it had no sides to it, basically it was just the bath with the two taps fitted – but after only having the shower for twelve months as far as I was concern Father Christmas did exist. We are still working our way through the house and have a fair bit to do, including the kitchen. He’s decided that he wants to build his own units – so with that in mind I reckon I’ll have a new kitchen by 2012.

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We’re Pumpkin Lantern making this weekend. We have an unspoken agreement, Matt and I. I acknowledge that he is way too old to be making a lantern out of a pumpkin – he’s just doing it to humour me because I enjoy it - and then I also fail to notice how much he’s enjoying himself in the process. We make a good team.

Himself hates Halloween – he gets fed up with answering the door. Personally I love it – it dates back to when I was young I suppose. My mum had what they call a roman nose or a witch’s nose – it was hooked. Apparently that was the first thing she looked at after I was born, and that wasn’t straight way – I nearly manager to kill us both. I got stuck and they had to use forceps to deliver me. Start as you mean to go on – that’s my motto. When they held me up to the glass window a day later, my Dad told the Sister that I wasn’t his baby; my head was black and blue with large sores on the sides. I’ve still got a tiny bald patch on the side of my head where the hair has never grown.

Mum used to tell me she was a good witch and that she used to ride a broomstick on Halloween – now you know where I get my imagination from. She also told me she could do magic – but all of this could only take place on the 31st. I believed her – she’d ask me what I would like as a treat and then produce it out of thin air. I can still remember her producing a jam doughnut the one year – she told me when I was older that she had it up her sleeve – I apparently had a thing about doughnuts at the time, so she had a pretty good idea what I’d ask for.

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We're off out for a meal tonight – Himself has promised me a packet of crisps *laughs*. We still haven’t decided where to go on Monday – if we go anywhere at this rate. I’d be quite happy to just visit some of the places near here and come back home in the evening. Home bird – that’s me. Sometimes the amount of hassle sorting everything out so we can get away spoils the actual enjoyment of the trip – Stee offered to come and stray and keep an eye on my Dad and Matt, but I’m not that fussed. As long as Himself and I get some time together, just the two of us – I’ll be happy.

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I awoke this morning to a beautiful sky – a bit different to the freezing fog we had 22 years ago. So I look some pictures.

This one reminded me of lava

I thought I'd posted already, but in my rush I saved to draft instead - oh well, don't suppose anyone notice.

I got into work early this morning – my manager has overlook the fact that she is on holiday for two days and booked an appointment for someone to come in and see her. She rang up at 10.30 last night in a blind panic – she’d just remembered about it. So I’ve come in early to fib on her behalf and say she is ill, she’ll rearrange when she feels better – that’s right, she'll ring them Monday when she’s in again. I’ve got to hopefully perform this task before 9.00 because I have a 9.10 doctors appointment, when hopefully my doctor will agree to lower the dosage of my medication –she wouldn't do it last time and I was well and truly pissed off.

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OK, I have now made my mind up and know for a fact I hate being a manager. Why do I have to sort out other people’s crap? It’s not as if I don’t have enough crap of my own. Office politics my manager calls it. Office? It’s more like a playground. Who wants to be in my gang? If you're talking to her I’m not your friend!

I tried the nice approach last time. The sit down and talk – sort out your differences, find middle ground. I stupidly thought I had sorted it *slaps forehead*. When will I learn – I’m an idiot, whatever was I thinking.

So this time I've gone for the tried and tested method – I’ve just bollocked them! I only had a go at them on Tuesday - I couldn't have made my feeling known. I tried again yesterday - I think they now know how I feel on the matter. I don’t care whether it works or not – it’s made me feel a hell of a lot better and it's given those two something to think about – they can now unite and make a complaint against me.

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I bumped into my cousin whilst shopping, well second-cousin to be technically correct, our dad’s are true cousins. We were good friends as kids, we still are – it’s just that we don’t see so much of it other now.

I’ve got some good memories of the times we spent together. Scumping the stawberries out of the fields - stolen strawberries taste so much better than brought ones. We’ve a common near us with a stream running though it that forms into a large pool in the woods. We built a rope swing and used to swing off the bank into the water. The danger never crossed our minds and it was very deep in places – our parents certainly didn’t know what we were up to. No mobiles in those days. We’d go for miles on our bikes and we’d take a picnic. Tomato sauce sandwiches, crisps and squash - I’m not even going to try to explain my picky eating habits as a child. I do remember I had a thing for mashed potato, peas and mint sauce – all mixed together and made into a sandwich. The only time I would eat meat was when my Nan made a shepherds pie. She had one of those hand mincer’s that screwed to the table. You put the cooked meat in the top and turned the handle. We always had shepherd’s pie on a Monday, as she used the left over Sunday joint. She usually made a rice pudding as well - lovely and stodgy - the spoon would stand up in it, and she always let me have the skin off the top, which tasted very sweet.

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Himself wished me Happy Anniversary this morning - he knows it's tomorrow, but didn't want to break with tradition.

I will have been married 22 years on Friday – hooray. We only started celebrating after we had reached 20 years. Anniversaries are all well and good, but we say I love you everyday *grin* Mind you, Himself always thinks it the 26th - at least he doesn't forget.

We decided that we would start going away together for a couple of days – up until then we hadn’t gone away without the kids. This year we still haven’t decided where to go, we just booked Monday and Tuesday off work. The conversation goes something like this:

Himself: Have you decided where we’re going yet?
Me: I’m not deciding, we are – why do I always have to make the decisions?
Himself *shugs*: I don’t know – do you want to go to Wales again, or somewhere else.
Me: I don’t mind – you decide for a change, it’s your anniversary as well.
Himself: OK….but where did you have in mind?

Aaarrrgggghhhhhh. See what I’m up against. Good grief doesn’t he know that he’s meant to be in charge *bursts out laughing*. He decides quickly enough where I supposed to be after I’ve been on the computer for my designated two hours on a week night. Although in fairness he didn't say anything last night when I was talking to Scally - she is convinced it's because she's such a good influence - HAHAHAHAHA - pull the other one, woman, it's got bells on.

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We went to Wales for our honeymoon – we had to keep stopping on the way down to put an egg in the radiator, which was leaking and we couldn’t afford to replace it. It was only a few months ago that I let the cat out of the bag on why the radiator had sprung a leak. Basically I’d driven to Worcester for the day with a friend. With my usually navigational skills I’d made a wrong turn, so pulled into a trading estate to turn around. I didn’t quite get the swing right and we went over the central island. Now the island should have had a light on – as in the picture

but someone had knocked it off -NO not me - only a metal base was left in the tarmac. Using my usual logic, I thought I could drive over it. Funnily enough I hit the metal piece and stopped. Reversing back to the sound of metal on metal, I noticed a jet of water shooting out from the front of the car. When we got to the car park – yes I did carry on shopping – I lifted the bonnet and carefully undid the top of the radiator. The release of the pressure stopped the water shooting out, it turned into a drip. I filled it back up again before we went home and waited for Himself to notice – it look a couple of days, he's not that observant. He just thought it had corroded and I let him carry on thinking it. He now lives in dread of what other little gem I'm going to admit to. No - he's not worried that I'm going to admit to a string of affairs – I’m a one women man and always have been. It's all the little things that have happened over the years that have been blamed on the dog, the cat, the kids or an act of God, that he's talking about. I've told him not to bother, I'm not going to admit to anything unless I get caught in the act! Actually I will confess to one other little thing - to you not him - I used a knife in the fridge to remove a piece of ice at the back, the fridge must have been turn up to high. Unfortunately the ice was stuck on quite well and as I levered it the knife cracked the plastic at the back. Not a problem – I’ve put some white silicone on it – it not very noticeable unless you look closely. I did it months ago and he’s not notice yet.

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Add on - I forgot to thank Kristy for her cloud comments - Thank you :-)

Chris is off line at the moment – so I’ve given him a rest and snapped at Scally instead. I really don’t know how I manage it, other than it seems to be a natural talent and I don’t know I’m doing it. I am now adding the following disclaimer to my email. Just so everyone is well aware of the problem before they actually read my correspondence - If nothing else it should give them a laugh:

Disclaimer ~ This e-mail may contain information that could cause upset, anger or a general pissed off feeling - or even all three at the same time. This is not the intention of the signatory – she is just practising her talent of engaging her mouth when her brain is looking the other way. Please just ignore her – she needs no encouragement – just a gag.

I think that just about covers everything. I sometimes wonder what either of them did that was so awful that they ended up with me. They really must have been bad, bad, people in a previous life.
It should also make Chris think twice before putting his hand up to volunteer for anything in the future, and Scally will skin him alive if he volunteers her again.

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I should have been going to our Dudley office today to prepare for a file audit *yawn*, but when I got to work this morning everything has changed. I'm needed here to sort out a few HR issues. Great more problems and someone else to upset - I told you it was a natural talent. It's going to be a long day – it’s my turn to attend the trustee’s meeting tonight, and oh boy does that drag on. The senior managers have to take it in turns to attend. As luck would have it, I drew the short straw. It’s not really my turn – it’s Simon’s, who just happen to be on holiday in Cornwall this week. I personally think he should have come back for the meeting, it really is quite selfish of him. I just hope I don’t fall asleep – it’s so bloody boring. They spend hours going round and round in circles, without making a decision – they’re like a load of wet hens, although that’s probably insulting to hens. I don’t have a lot of faith in them – can you tell? I’ve got my reasons, they caused me a lot of stress when we had problems with the previous manager, they didn’t handling it at all well.

Well that all I've time for today - I'll do better tomorrow, even if it is just moaning about what a waste of space the trustee's are!

Thank you Nicole for joining in – see, it wasn’t painful, was it? Oh, and Scally – I may whinge, but you nag ;-)

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I managed to wash and tumble dry Matt’s mobile on Saturday. I refuse to take the blame, he dumped his jeans by the washing machine – No I don’t go through the pockets. Which I should have done I suppose – but I’m afraid he hasn’t got the textbook mother. I ’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve washed paper tissues – and what a complete and utter bastard they are to get rid of afterwards. The mobile lights up but appears to be locked and we can’t get it unlocked – the buttons don’t appear to be working. He’s well chuffed, and using his old one again.

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I was talking to Scally yesterday about how dangerous throw away comments can be, if the other person doesn't recognise it as tongue in cheek. It reminded me of something that happened at work earlier this year.

My manager came to see me to ask why a member of staff was sat at her desk with her coat on and the window wide open, especially as it was blowing a gale. I hadn’t got a clue. Really? she said, because the person in question was convinced the internet would load quicker that way.

Oh God, the penny dropped. A couple of days ago we’d had a big move around with the offices and Pat, who’s getting on and not the most confident on the computer had complained that the internet was slow. I had jokingly said it was because the satellite would have trouble reaching her in that room as the wall were so thick – try opening the window. I even laughed when I said it - it was just a joke, a silly throw away comment. For heavens sake, she must have known it was a load of utter bollocks. Er....no she didn’t – she took me at my word and had spent the last few days freezing whenever she went on the internet. Thank God my manager could see the funny side, I was absolutely horrified and she couldn’t stop laughing. Pat didn’t find it quite so funny, at least not to start with – even after I’d apologised she wasn’t that impressed. I had unintentionally made her look a fool – and it did upset me, I would never deliberately hurt anyone’s feelings. I forgot that not everyone at work knows what an awful sense of humour I have; she hadn’t been with us long and only knew the very basics when it came to computers.

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I got sent this via an email - it made me think of Scally and Chris - see spelling isn't that important *laughs*. Oh alright, yes it is.

Can you raed tihs? Olny srmat poelpe can. I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg.The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt!

20:40

OK, I give in - it's a mouse. A mouse sat up on its back legs. It started off as dragon, but by the time I'd got the camera from downstairs, the clouds had moved.

I have to say you lot lack imagination – that’s what happens when you spend too much time on the computer reading smutty stories – and don’t pretend you’re shy, that won’t wash either.


16:10

Thank you for all the comments I've received - HA! - I know someone has visited because the hit counter has gone up! I don't bite, you know. No I don't. It's not difficult, all you have to do is click on the comment box under the picture. Yes that's the one. Type your comment - and lets be honest I have been over joyed to see that someone had written 'all I can see is a cloud', I'm not fussy, honestly I'm not - then click 'other' as identity, type in your name - real or fictitious - type in the word vertification and hit the publish button. Done - finished - made my day. I need a laugh - I do, I really, really do.

*walks away muttering to herself* One comment, all I wanted was one comment. That's not too much to ask. Nobody cares. Maybe I've lost all my fans again. Did I have any fans to start with? Why am I talking to myself? Wonder if I can find any chocolate.......




OK, it’s 1.00am and Scally has deserted me, Himself is asleep downstairs on the sofa – Saturday night and alcohol rocks *laughs*. I started the next part in the JJ series, but I’m tired and not thinking straight. No – I’m not tired enough to go to bed, just tired enough to know that I don’t want to write anymore. So I’ve been looking at the Pictures I’d taken recently – Clouds again. So what can you see? Yes, you can post comments – the funnier the better – I could do with a laugh!

Hooray! I opened a six pack of Coca-Cola this morning and found that I’d won a free itune – now all I need is the ipod to go with it and I’ll be well away. That’s the story of my life – if I do actually win something, it’s usually of no use to me what so ever.

Take the time I won a prize in the Red Cross Disabled Club raffle one Christmas. I must have been about 10 at the time and my mum had put my name on the raffle tickets she had brought. We got a phone call to say I had won a prize and was it OK to drop it in. I then spend the next couple of hours wondering what I’d won – the box of chocolates? Or the luxury gift hamper, or better still the £20.00 Woolworth’s gift voucher. I could buy a new Sindy doll. Yes, it was Sindy back then, not the stick thin Barbie we have now a days. Sindy was a doll with the figure of a real woman; she didn’t diet or under go plastic surgery.

So the lady turned up bearing my prize – Ooooh the excitement of it all, what had I won? I’ll tell you shall I; I’d won half a dozen mince pies. I don’t like mince pies. I’ve never like mince pies. It got worse. When mum tried to bite into one, they were rock hard, totally uneatable. They bounced if you dropped them on the kitchen floor. I think whoever made them used cement instead of flour. We put them outside for the birds to eat and that’s where they stayed for 3 days until they were thrown in the dustbin. Even the birds couldn’t eat them.

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I have the computer to myself with no interruptions today. Himself and Matt have taken the dogs and gone beating for a local shoot. Now I don’t like the idea of shooting anything – animal lover that I am, but it’s not my decision it’s theirs. They enjoy it and who am I to say otherwise. Himself has always supported me whenever I want to do something. I made him read Conkers the other day and waited for the reaction – there wasn’t one. Very good he said, what are we going to have for tea? Yes, thank you very much, do you have any idea how difficult I found that to write, my first smutty story – totally Scally’s fault, terrible influence. It’s just the blog he never gets to see – confessions are all well and good, but if I’d have wanted to confess to him, I’ve had told him to his face – yeah, you’re right - not a bat in hells chance.

Anyway I am going to have a nose about, Scally tells me Cobweb has updated and I know Gillibran has – and then I might just have a go at the next part of James and Jay. Jay is probably now suffering from hyperthermia or frost bite at the very least!

Have a nice weekend

Late again posting today - I've been in and out of meetings all morning. Its really busy at the moment - never mind it's Friday, no work tomorrow.

Himself was moaning again last night. The brake fluid light was flashing on the dashboard of my car - it needed topping up after Himself adjusted the brakes for the MOT, or something like that. You now, a car thingy thing. I didn’t find it riveting the first time he explained it, so I’m hardly likely to be stood with my head under the bonnet now, am I? Anyway, that wasn’t the problem – the problem was the lack of petrol in my fuel tank. Well... I hadn't looked at the gauge, I forget to occasionally *shrugs*. I've not run out so far and I always remember eventually.

He didn’t stop moaning, one of these days I was going to break down – what would I do then? Well that’s hardly a difficult question is it? The answer is obvious – I’d ring him. For God’s sake, what's the use of having a knight in shining armour, if you don’t use him occasionally?

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I look this photo from my bedroom window this morning, I thought the colours of the tree were pretty amazing.

I was up the shed this morning trying to find the wall paper remover for Tracy - she decorating at the moment. As I'd got the camera in my pocket - see, I told you it went everywhere with me. I look a picture of the hole in the shed window. Go see.

Yes, you're right - It's hardly worth mentioning really. And trust me on this one, I wouldn't have know a thing about it if Himself hadn't witnessed it with his own eyes. It only small, the size of a pebble - big fuss about nothing!

OK, a little late posting today, I've only just written todays blog. The reason being, the new series of Stargate SG1 and Atlantis started on Sky One last night - so I watched that instead. I did get up again when Himself was alseep to finish a story - but if no one knows about it, it doesn't count!

What do you mean you know about it? Look do you want me to post another story or not?

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Another dark wet morning here – not that it matters when I’m at work, other than the fact if it rains too much the roof leaks. It’s a really old building and has seen better days – there’s talk of us moving, which is bloody typical now I’ve got all the computer network set up how I like it.

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A belated Happy Birthday to Kirsty, hope you had a good time last night. It’s Montgomery’s Birthday this weekend, a special ‘0’ milestone. So Happy Birthday to him and also my niece Chloe's tomorrow. She has reached the grand old age of 8.

I very rarely remember what presents I received for past birthdays, to be honest the cards are more important to me. I can spend hours choosing the right card, and wander from shop to shop in the process. I do remember one of my 30th Birthday presents – it hard to forget, he follows me around for a start.

I was job coaching a girl at an animal rescue centre at the time. Himself had said quite clearly – DO NOT even think for one minute that you are bringing a dog home. Which was fair comment. We had Bramble, a spaniel (our 1st dog as a couple LOL) and Sam, a Labrador, at the time and were living in a ground floor flat. A very big flat mind, the living room alone measures 16ft by 25ft – so plenty of room. We also had a garden out the front and back and fields behind, so space wasn’t that much of a problem. But he was right and I didn’t want another dog anyway – I had enough to do, with my job, family and the Brownie Pack I was involved in – stories for another day there.

So I took Debbie to her job and started to get her settle in, which basically involved feeding and walking the dogs and shoving shite – but she was happy. Whenever you went into the sheds, the dogs would start barking and jumping up the front of the pens. All the dogs that is, except one. Whenever the door opened he looked up expectantly, but on seeing it wasn’t the person he was waiting for, he put his head back down. He never tried to jump up the front of the pen, he just lay in his basket, waiting. He’d been found in the centre of a local town – painfully thin – you could count his ribs which zig zagged under his coat. OK, the jumping up and down dogs I could ignore, the little stray in the corner who was lost without his owner, I couldn’t. It look me nearly three days of working on Himself to get him to agree to me bringing him home – if it hadn’t been my birthday I don’t know if I’d have succeeded. I brought him home on my actual Birthday, it was also the first day he got out of his basket and put his paws up the front of the cage when I walked in. He had such a haunted look about him and that stayed with him for quite some while – he can still do the sad eyes when he wants. He wasn’t a dog that had been mistreated – someone had loved him. They’d taught him to drop a ball by your feet, ready to throw for a start. I often wonder what happened to his owner, because he was dumped, there’s no doubt about that. I did think that maybe he belonged to a pensioner who had either gone into a home or died, and the family had then taken the easy way out. They probably didn’t want to pay the fee for rehoming that the rescue centre charge or couldn’t be bothered to take him there. He’s getting on now, I would guess he’s about 13 - the vet thought he was about two when we had him – but he's still very active, especially when he and George the duck get together. It’s still a case of top dog with those two. George is convinced he’s a dog by the way – if I leave the back door open when he roaming around the garden, he’ll walk in the house and make himself at home. But that’s another story for another day.

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To finish on a funny note, Scally sent me the following link

http://www.theregister.co.uk/2006/05/26/ebay_email_trauma/

I'm still laughing!

Now according to Chris this could be my first ever blog without a spelling error. I write most of my blog the day before I post, the day that it happens so to speak, and then tell you that yesterday such and such took place. I usually write while I’m at work, not always - unfortunately some times, things happen after I've left work, but mostly I write at work – Do I look guilty? I think not, they get their monies worth out of me, don’t fear – and then email it to myself at home. Trouble is I’m that used to emailing Chris during the day that I sent it to him instead – minus the pictures which I was having trouble with, so he got to check it first – only one ‘r’ missing – so I must be getting better *grin*. I have a little pot of memories that I can tap into if I run out of time to write something – I have to do this, Himself is being a pain in the arse about how long I can go on the computer at night – he now thinks two hours is long enough. It’s a right bugger – I have to wait till he’s asleep and get up again – if I haven’t fallen asleep myself that is. It’s probably the only rule we have that drives me mad – hence I look for ways round it. What? Look, I’ve never pretended to be perfect – only human.

If there are mistakes after this bit, blame Chris for not spotting them.

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So talking to Chris yesterday made me think that my husband may have the patience of a saint at times – he married me for a start! Yesterday’s blog got me thinking of a couple of time he just done something for me, not for a bit of peace, but because I was upset and he could do something to make it right.

There was the time when Tracy and I were coming back from shopping and found a badly injured moorhen in the road. There was nothing that could have been done to save it, but it was still alive, just. I moved it to the grass and then rang Himself. He in turn came down to me and put the bird out of its misery.

Then there was the time he buried a dead cat. The cat in question was a ragged ear stray that would fight anything – known locally as Ginger No Ears, for obvious reasons. I suppose he must have belonged to somebody once, unless he was feral of course. There are a lot of farms around here. A couple of people in the village put food out for him and he wasn’t above walking into someones house and stealing their cat’s food, but he wouldn’t let you go near him or pick him up. He just didn’t like people – or cats – or dogs – or anything else for that matter. He wasn’t by the wildest of imaginations a particularly nice cat. Then one day he got run over on the dual carriageway. Whoever had knocked him down had moved him to the central reservation, and that’s where he stayed for four day – in the middle of summer - in a heat wave. Whenever I drove past he was still there. No one wanted him even when he was dead.

Now it takes a very special person to drive up there with a spade, dig a hole in a nearby field and move a very smelly dead cat from the central reservation and bury it in said hole. But Himself did – just because I was upset about no one claiming him.

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I am being harassed at work by my manager – I came in yesterday to find a note on my desk. She’s on a crusade to try to stop me drinking so much pop – she keeps pinching my cans of Pepsi and leaving bottles of water in their place. I keep telling her you can’t put water in Bicardi, but will she listen!

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Autumn is most definitely on the way, I look this picture out of my window at work. It won’t be long before we go to work in the dark and come home in the dark. The only day light I’ll get is through that window :-(

Well, after a relative trouble free period, I managed to get into strife again last night. This time it wasn’t my fault but the cat’s. I was in the kitchen preparing tea, I should have been visiting my friend, Maddie - but something turned up, as is often the case when you make arrangements so we needed to rearrange. When in walked the cat with a sparrow in her mouth, and it was still alive. I shut the kitchen door and tried to get it off her – you know the sort of thing – bend down and make a ch ch ch noises. The little sod was having none of it. She had caught it and as far as she was concerned, she was keeping it – she had only brought it in to show me after all. She headed under the breakfast bar and I shot under after her. I grabbed her and started to back out again with her swearing for all she was worth. Unfortunately, I misjudged the coming back out part and banged my head on the edge of the wooden top. I may have spoken a few words quite loudly, which I suppose could come under the heading of swearing, but in my defence it had bloody hurt. I dropped the cat, with the bird still in her mouth and grabbed my head instead. My few well chosen words were heard by Himself who was outside and on hearing my distress, the stupid sod came in and left the door open. The cat seeing her one chance of freedom made a run for it and escaped with the bird still in her mouth. Which didn’t pleased me one bit and I told Himself so. Why, when it is so bloody obvious do people insist on asking stupid questions? Had I hurt myself, he said. No, I was holding on to my head and swearing like a trooper just for the bloody fun of it. That got me a Look, but he chose to ignore the sarcasm. Let him have a look to see if I’d cut it, he said. I declined his offer with a few more well chosen word. I didn’t want him to look at it, for a start it hurt too much for him to poke at. After a while I did let him look, it wasn’t cut – just sore with a small lump on top. I’d have been OK if I’d have left it there, but no I had to go outside to look for the cat. Friend to all animals, that’s me. She was sat by the shed with the bird still in her mouth. So off I trot up the garden to try to start negotiations – but she was having none of it and moved away. So in a fit of temper I picked up a stone and threw it at her. OK, I throw like a woman. That is to say the stone went nowhere near the cat. In fact, it went in a totally different direction, straight through the shed window – making a nice hole in the glass in the process.

Now if I’d have been trying to break the shed window, I’d have probably hit the cat. Even that didn’t really cause my downfall – it was the swearing that followed it that did that. If the new neighbours hadn’t heard me already through the kitchen wall, I’ve have been very surprised it they didn’t hear me chasing the cat down the garden. I have a very wide vocabulary when it comes to swear words, and I was well and truly pissed off with the cat. She dropped the bird and shot over the fence. I picked the bird up and the sodding thing died in my hand. Talk about ungrateful. Himself was far from happy with my language and insisted we go upstairs - where his hand had a fair few well chosen words with my backside.

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That’s the trouble with animals – they rarely understand that you’re trying to rescue them. It was just same with the crow – yes that's right, a few years ago I helped save one of those. We had a ginger tom at the time which unfortunately got killed by a car, but that’s another story and I’m not going into it now. Anyway, I went up the garden to let the ducks out one morning and found the cat and crow in the duck run. The crow was putting up a good fight and the cat decided that it would be better to wash himself instead. Now in case you don’t know, crows are fairly big birds and this one had hurt its wing. Not broken, but it was causing him a few problem with its take off. So being the kind hearted person that I am – I decided the best thing to do was carry it to the field and put it in the hedge. That was fine in principle, what I hadn’t taken into account was the fact that the bird didn’t recognise me as its saviour. As I picked it up, it stuck it’s claws into my hand and attached its beak to my finger – and I can tell you now it drew blood. Lots of blood, and it bloody hurt – but I’m nothing if not determined. I was rescuing the flipping thing it whether it like it or not – so with it still attached to my hand I walked across the road to the field and set it free. I then went home, washed the blood from my hand and stuck a plaster on it. It made everyone laugh at work – notice I said laugh and not surprised. They know me well. I was the one that went into the workshops everyday over Christmas the one year to feed and water a pigeon that had flown inside and refused to come out. Which it did enventually do, the first day all the kids came back - the holiday was over as far as it was concerned. Simon, our first aider, asked when was the last time I’d had a tetanus injection? How the hell did I know, years ago probably. Well I should go and get one, he said. Nah...I’d be fine – I don’t like injections - who does? But he kept going on and on about it, so in the end I agreed to ring the doctors and check with them. I explained to the lady on reception what had happened. I could hear her telling someone else in the background – who was laughing by the way, what had happened. She came back to the phone – Yes, I did need to come in for a tetanus injection. I could come straight away if I wanted. I didn’t want to at all, but anything to shut Simon up, I just insisted that he come with me – I then made him hold my hand while the nurse put the needle in my arm and I can tell you now I gripped his hand very tightly – that would teach the bugger to think he was the male version of Florence Nightingale.

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It took ages to get into work today - there was a major gas leak in town and the roads were in gridlock - everyone trickled in late. We all rely on cars to much I'm afraid. Not that we have much choice, the public transport around here is awful. Oh well, back to it I suppose.

I had a lovely email from Nicole *waves* yesterday and she mentioned that she was a bit shy when it came to contacting authors. I can fully understand this, I never wrote to a single one during the time I was just an avid reader. Notice that after only two months I now consider myself to be an author *laughs*. The point being that since joining the group I’ve got to corresponded with the owners of the sites that I consider myself to be a fan of, and they are all really nice people. Very approachable and friendly, and authors looooove feed back, so you shouldn’t feel afraid to drop them a line to show your appreciation and any comments you have. Montgomery Street are positive sluts for it – No, I’m not being cheeky. They said that not me, go see for yourself. Yes there is a reason I’ve added that in – I know for a fact that Montgomery has written a new story – he did it for me! It’s the first time anyone has written anything for me - and I’m excited, very, very, pleased and honoured, and excited. Tiny problem – the gentleman in question and his partner in crime, the lovely Sulya, update their site when they have three stories to post. At this moment in time, they’ve only got two. Sulya is waaay ahead in the story writing stakes, you may like to look at the snippets (she wrote three of them) – personally I love Multicultural. Moaning and whining have absolutely no effect on Montgomery, and believe me I’ve tried – he’s immune. Now if his fans would just drop him a few lines to say how much they appreciate both him and Sulya, he might just get his finger out and update the site.

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I had a really interesting time on Saturday night. I’m not going to write too much about it now I want to wait until we’ve all got the photos together, and then I’ll post a few with the blog. There was a lot of activity and we made contact with a total of five ghosts using the Yes/No technique. Funnily enough I wasn’t frightened. I was quite happy to wander through the pub in the dark on my own, although a couple of the group were a bit nervous and stayed together. I picked up on several things, including a name which popped into my head. Anyway, I tell you more later this week.

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Isn’t it funny how something reminds you of someone and it makes you laugh. Persil have a new advert out at the moment that reminds me of my friend, Chris. Now some of you will now Chris already, but for those of you that don’t – he told us a little while ago about the time he was graded on his ability to be a penguin at drama school. I think the person who designed the advert must have read about this. The advert starts off with a small boy standing up and stating he wants to be a fireman when he grows up, next small boy stand up and says he wants to be a Policeman. This is followed by a little girl standing up and stating she wants to be a penguin. She visits the zoo and everything. It’s a shame that the little girl wasn’t a little boy wearing glasses – but you can’t have everything. I’ve found this link (http://www.visit4info.com/static/advert_pages/37726.cfm?back_page=advertiser_pages/PersilRange.cfm) to show you. Unfortunately you have to pay to watch it, but you can see want I’m talking about.

I think I’ve found my fan, two of them actually *waves* Hi Kristy and Cathy, Loving Swats updated their webpage with my new link. I may have a few more looking at the Page Hit Counter, but I’m not counting them yet. They probably just followed someone else in through the door; any minute now someone is going to ask if this is the website of Gardening Weekly. They’ll then say: Sorry, my mistake, wrong website and leave. Everyone else will then follow them out again.

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I’m off ghost hunting tonight – and I’m quite looking forward to it. I want to see if I’m as sensitive to things as I think I am. I often know who’s on the phone before I answer it, or can tell if someone wants me. I tried this out with Tracy once - the doubting Thomas didn’t believe me. The cheeky cow keeps telling me I’m Physco not Psychic. Proved her wrong through. We agreed that over one weekend, she would at sometime sit down and will me to ring her. The sod chose eleven o’clock on the Saturday night, and couldn’t believe it when it worked. I wasn’t that pleased either, I’d already gone to bed.

We were on holiday together in mainland Spain one year and had packed everything up to spend the day on the beach. When we got there we settled down and the kids started to play. I couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease. I was convinced that if we stayed there one of our kids would drown. I couldn’t explain why, but it got stronger by the minute. It says something about the sort of friend she is, that when the men were saying don’t be so stupid – we’ve only just got here, we’re not going back to the apartments now. Tracy dug her feet in and backed me up. So we packed up again and lugged it back to spend the day by the swimming pool instead.

No sooner had we go back and put our things by the sun beds, than a woman in an upstairs apartment shouted down to say there was a child under the water. All hell broke loose. When we got her out, she didn’t appear to be breathing, Tracy gave her the kiss of life and reception rang for an ambulance. She stopped breathing again twice during the trip to hospital, but amazingly she lived and suffered no side effects. Three days later she was back by the pool – no memory of what had happen. The family had only arrived the day before, the grandmother had died a few months previous and the whole family had decided to come away together. The little girl had come down to the pool with her aunt, who had gone back upstairs just for a minute to get her book. She was wearing armbands, but had taken them off. As is often the case with Spanish swimming pools, it dropped in the middle, so we gather that she just went over the edge, and couldn't get up.

Anyway, I’m not really expecting to see or hear anything, but it’s something I always fancied having a go at, so when the opportunity arose through a friend I jumped at the chance. I’m going to try and have a sleep this afternoon otherwise I’ll just drop off to sleep while I’m there – sleep anywhere me.

I've had a lazy Friday morning, I've only just got up for a start. I decided late on Thursday that I was going to take a day's holiday. I never use all of my holidays and end up losing them - 4 last year - and I've got a few things to finish writing, so I thought what the heck. I've left my hair wet, I’m not bothered if it sticks out, I’m not straightening it. It’s not so much curly as kinky – very kinky. So, I've brought breakfast upstairs - milk and toast. Toast minus the marmite, which seems to have vanish off the face of the earth. As I'm the only one that likes it, I can't blame anyone else. I can only find the jam and marmalade *pulls a face*. I plan on having a day were the muse (hopefully) will flow, and bend Chris's ear a bit - if he really is still talking to me that is.

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My friend Steph is off to Kenya on the 19th, and getting very excited about it. She is going to work in a children’s home in Mombasa, where she has volunteered her help to work with 11 orphaned children who are HIV positive. Pretty special is our Steph, full of confidence and boundless energy, I’m sure she’ll make a difference. She has arranged it all through a Charity, raised the funds herself and took two weeks holiday off work. Someone said to her what difference could she make in just two weeks – Well, all I can say is that they obviously don’t know her very well. She’ll most definitely make her mark, not just while she is there, but after she comes back as well.

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I think I’m suffering from PMT – no, not Premenstrual Tension – but Petty Minded Staff. I really don’t have a clue what’s got into everyone lately, but the moaning and back biting is getting worse. Two members of my team are at it now. The e2e Administrator is trying to boss the Receptionist around and they are both moaning like hell to every Tom, Dick and Harry who will listen, except of course to each other or to me. I had to find out off my manager. I hate conflicted – so I’m not looking forward to knocking this one on the head. I think I should also add that I hate being a manager too – that should just about cover everything. What a week, God help me this Friday. Yes - that right - I am superstitious. I’ll get myself knocked over walking into the road to avoid walking under a ladder. I always say Good Morning, Mr Magpie, when I spot said bird and hold my collar if I see an ambulance. I haven’t got a bloody clue where the last one comes from, but I do it religiously anyway.

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I asked Himself to come shopping with me last night. I really didn’t feel like it on Wednesday, so Tracy went with Rich. It probably wasn’t one of my best ideas, for a start we spent nearly £30 more than usual. I hate shopping and aim to get round as quickly as possible. Himself seems to think it’s an evening out. Not a brief perusal of the goods on offer for him. Oh no, every items gets his full attention. He can spot a new product at 3 metres and then of course wants to try it. He finds the fresh fish counter fascinating – wonder what that will taste like, he said. Never mind what it tastes like, how the bloody hell are you supposed to cook it? The fish in question doesn’t even look like a fish; it’s a long white thing with funny looking flesh that goes by the name of a Huss fillet. And he had to ask didn't he, apparently, it is in fact the dog fish. I’m not prepared to even touch it, let alone cook and eat it.

Then of course you have to get him past the counters that have items that you can taste displayed on the top. The only one that is safe is the cheese counter. Himself doesn’t like cheese. Isn’t that just typical, the one thing that I like we can walk straight by, not so much as a sniff. And just how long does it take to choose a jar of Coffee - nearly five minutes, that's how long.

Don't Supermarket stock a wide range of beers these day? We had to spend nearly 10 minutes in that isle – which felt like an hour to me, I can tell you. I did suggest that I carry on and he could catch me up. No, it didn’t matter, he’d come with me, he won't buy anything. If I tried that one on, I’d have got a LOOK at the very least, if not a swat if no one was about. Yes, that right, he's not afraid to wallop me in the supermarket if no one's around.

When we eventually get to the check out, hours later. No, that's the truth, nearly two bloody hours later - the fun really starts. I’m not one of those shoppers that carefully unloads their trolley onto the conveyor belt in a set order. Oh no, chuck it on and get out quickly as possible is the best policy as far as I’m concerned. Himself didn’t want to do it that way – that’s why the biscuits are always broken, he said. Look I don’t eat biscuits, so it’s not a problem as far as I’m concerned. Then the stupid woman on the check out asked if we want help with the packing. Yes, please, he said. Aarrrrrggggghhhhhh.

I’m not asking him again – I’ve learnt my lesson – I’ll manage by myself in future.

Welcome to my World

Well, what a great day for conversation yesterday turned out to be. I snapped at Chris, if you can snap in an e-mail – well, I managed it. As soon as I hit the send button I regretted it. I apologised immediately, which he in turn accepted with his usual gentlemanly grace and what is even more surprising, he’s still speaking to me.

I then had a run in with a member of staff over MSN messenger being installed on their computer. I asked them politely to uninstall it and came back down to hear him slagging me off in front of the other members of the team. I didn’t quite rip his head off. I didn’t shout for a start, I was just a tad sharp, but he got the idea that if he had anything to say about me in future, he should say it to my face. My manager later had a word with me and basically said I should have ignored him and just spoken to his Team Leader. That’s right, it’s just fine for him to slag me off, but I’m not allowed to challenge him over it. So I’ll just be a door mat then shall I and let him walk all over me - fat chance. Just wait till he wants me to do something for him again, I’ve a long memory, he can get stuffed. I don’t normally hold grudges – it’s not a good idea, I’d have no one to speak to for a start. Grudges very rarely effect the other person, they usually only effect you, and what a waste of energy. I personally feel it’s better to just sort things out and start with a fresh slate, so to speak, but this time I’m willing to make an exception.

I don’t put a great deal of deep thought into what I say to Chris, mainly because its as if he’s in the same room speaking to me, its nearly instantaneous, emails flying up and down the country. I just reply and as I can let the barriers down with him and just be myself he’s getting the uncensored me. Which is fine 99% of the time, but yesterday triggered memories, memories that I’ve never dealt with. And we all have those. I couldn’t do anything about them at the time, and I’m sure to God, I can’t do anything about them now – so I boxed my feeling and basically forgot about them. I couldn’t understand why I felt so upset and angry, I suspose, and why a simply comment had, had such an effect on me. After joking with Chris that I was going to bed early to make sure my mouth didn’t get my arse into trouble (nothing unusual in that unfortunately), that’s was exactly what I did. It’s difficult finding space to be alone when you share a house with other people, but I needed that last night. I wanted to be by myself, I didn't want anyone bothering me - I needed to think things through. I just said I was tired and as everyone keeps harping on that I’m looking tired lately, it was just accepted – no fifty question. I’ve woken up this morning feeling exhausted – but in a funny way, happier – I found the answers I was looking for, so I guess I've moved on another step.

Welcome yet again to another blog site. Yes – that’s right, I moved. I couldn’t get a hit counter on the other one and Chris said that wouldn’t be a problem with Blogger. I’m still not convinced I’ve got my fan back you see – I could be talking to myself here – Yep, nothing unusual there then. I did check the details on the tripod account this time to see if I could link – and I can. Chris very kindly pointed out that most people leave a link on their old site when they move, so that their fans or fan in my case, know were they’ve gone. Full of good advice isn’t he. He’s just showing off because fourteen people read to his blog.

++++

Hooray, I’ve got my car back and the garage didn’t charge for any of the retests – probably because it belongs to the father of one of our neighbours – which means I am no longer a pedestrian relying on others to ferry me around. I can now drive all the way up the road to get the papers – yes, OK, it is a little bit lazy – but mornings are always a rush. Get up – shower - get ready for work. Dry and straighten hair. Breakfast for everyone, pack lunch for Himself, feed and water animals. Collect papers from shop, start paper round. First stop is nearly opposite the shop, Doug who has problems walking. Then back down the road to John, who lives a few doors away and finally my Dad. Take dogs for a run down the field, looking very fetching in my pair of green wellies, and then put spaniels in the outside run till we get back from work. I leave them to run in and out in the summer, but if I did that now I’d come home to a mud bath. Upstairs to write my blog and then off to work. Yes, OK, I suppose I could walk and get the papers, but take this morning for instance, it was raining - I’ve have got wet – I don’t have a brolly. I gave up on those years ago - I keep losing the bloody things. I now rely on a coat with a hood and the car.

++++

Himself pointed out that there was a very funny smell upstairs – not a nice smell – and it seemed to be coming from Matthews’s room. My sense of smell is awful; I blame Tracy’s flatulence for this – it’s a defence mechanism. No - I couldn’t smell anything. I stopped tidying up my kids rooms years ago – I know when I’m on to a loser. It’s their room and I respect their privacy – they can clean it themselves. I just venue in once a week to change the bedding. They learnt the hard way about their washing, usually when they wanted to wear something and it was lying on the floor still dirty. Not my problem that one. It’s a bit easier since Steve moved out. There is only one room to ignore now. Matthew puts his washing in the washing basket, but as he will change at least twice a day, most of its still clean.

Anyway, feeling brave I put on my mountain climbing gear, attached a rope around my waist, tried the other end to the door handle and venue in. Not before giving Himself strict instructions to pull me back out if I wasn’t back in half an hour. Once my eyes had accustomed themselves to the dark – I managed to find the curtains and open them. Big mistake. It looked better in the dark. I set to work trying to hunt down the smell. I’ve draw up a short list of possible causes.

1. 17 worn socks under the bed – no wonder I keep having to buy socks.
2. 2 mugs contents unknown – but grey and hairy in appearance
3. 2 apple cores – shrivelled
4. 1Banana skin – black and slimy
5. 1 plate – covered in mould.
6. 1 bin – full to the brim, contents making a break for it across the floor.

I called up second son on his mobile and demanded his help in removing offending articles – which in all fairness he did. He couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about; it was quite tidy in there as far as he was concerned.

Yesterday went by really quickly - probably because I was busy. I had to drop the three dogs off at their hairdresser’s – for a cut and blow dry. As the spaniels are working dogs, they get very muddy so their coats need to be kept short. Billy just likes the whole pampering experience. He always looks younger after a hair cut - the grey around his muzzle isn’t so noticeable. I wish a hair cut could make me look younger LOL. Then I dropped the car off for the MOT retest and Steve took me back to work. The bloody thing failed again. The Hand brake was still pulling on unevenly, or something. So I rang Himself, and left him to sort it. He is always telling me that the cars are his worry to sort out and not mine – it’s hardly my fault. The last time I didn’t worry he told me my car was ready to be sent to the great scrap yard in the sky, and we needed to find another. And wasn’t that a barrel of laughs. What sort of car did I want this time, he asked – How the hell did I know? I still wanted the sky blue Peugeot 309, with the scratch on the passenger door from when Matt had ridden past it too closely on his bike. The very same car that could hold both mine and Tracy’s weekly family shop with ease, and only had 3 wheel trims as I’d lost one somewhere along the line. No apparently I couldn’t have that one – I needed to widen my scope and find something else. So I thought I quite fancied a Corsa – as long as it was a five door model. Do you have any idea how rare a five door Corsa is? They’re nearly all 3 door. I’d nearly given up hope after 4 weeks of looking through papers, walking around garages and visiting car auctions, when we found the one I now own. And it was purple, so it was obviously made for me. And I don’t want to parted from it now, thank you very much – so they bloody well better get it though the MOT – I not going through that again.

I remember driving to Birmingham once in my Dad’s car and parking it on a hill. As I pulled the handbrake on, the cable snapped. Now I’d gone with Hayley and we had a hair appointment so we were up against the clock. Parking in Birmingham is a nightmare - the chances of finding another space so close by was nigh on impossible. So I put the car into gear and left it were it was, praying it didn’t roll back when I was away. Not a problem, it was exactly where I’d left it when we returned. Then the fun started. It was sandwiched between two other cars, and to start it I needed to put my foot down on the clutch. If I did that the car would have rolled back into the one behind. In the end I got Hayley leaning down between my legs with her hand hold the footbrake down, whilst I started the car. Once I could ride the clutch, she got up and we drove away. So who needs a handbrake anyway?

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A group of us are off to spend the night in a haunted pub on Saturday - (http://www.triptojerusalem.com/back_room.php) – a Paranormal Investigation for charity. I’m sitting on the fence as far as ghosts are concern – I’m not that easily spooked since I’ve grown up and need to see the proof with my own eyes. This wasn’t the case as a child. I was at home watching telly one Saturday night, Mum & Dad had gone out and Nan was in bed. It must have been about 10.30ish when the dog went into the kitchen and started barking. I had a quick look around but couldn’t see anything. The only place I hadn’t looked was the walk in cupboard / pantry. What if someone was hiding in there – Yes I know, but I was only a child for goodness sake and a child with a bloody good imagination at that. I did believe in the fairies at the bottom of the garden when I was younger. Anyway, I switched the light on and peeped inside. No couldn’t see anything. Well wasn’t I stupid, nothing there at all. I closed the door again and nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard three very distinctive knocks coming from the other side of the door. I shot out of the kitchen, through the living room and didn’t stop until I was halfway upstairs. That was where I stayed for a good ten minutes, wondering if I should wake my Nan or be brave and pluck up enough courage to go and have another look. I crept back into the kitchen, picked up the poker and quickly slamming the door back against the wall I shot inside, waving the poker in the air above my head, heart beating fifteen to the dozen. No still nothing there. I looked behind the door - no, one there either. It was then I noticed the dog’s lead and metal choke chain hanging on the peg. Yes, that’s right, as I had swung the door shut the metal collar had bang against the back of the door, giving the impression of someone knocking. So it just goes to prove most things can be explained.
Anyway – it’s a new experience, so I’m looking forward to it. I may even take the camera.

I have a Fan. No, not the wind blowing type of fan, I’ve got three of those. A person who actually enjoys reading my stories and blog. They e-mailed the List Dictator at Loving Swats to say they couldn’t link to my site. So thank you very much, whoever you are – it was nice to be missed. Sudden thought - I hope they’ve found me again. I e-mailed Claw over the weekend for some help on changing the link on Loving Swats, so with a bit of luck I may get my Fan back soon.

++++

So I’m up and running, still a little wonky around the edges – but I think I’ve got everything in place. I did have a few problems linking FrontPage to Tripod and after wasting a couple of hours muttering to myself I decided: bugger this for a game of soldiers I’m off to the library. I’d already visited the library once on Saturday morning to return my books and pay £10.08 in fines that I owed. I’d decided not to take any more books out until I’d read all the ones I’d got at home. Never mind, needs must when the devil drives, so I had a mooch around and managed to find FrontPage 2002 and Paintshop Pro 7. I also picked up Jonathan Maitland’s ‘How to survive your Mother’, a true story about a reporter on the trail of a scandal involving his own parents, which looks very readable.

++++

We had a great time at Walsall illumination on Saturday night, and although it was cold, it didn’t rain. It was sooo crowded - it wasn’t that busy the last time we went, mind you that was years ago and I’m petty sure we went on a week night. The Arboretum was lovely. I wouldn’t mind having a look in the daylight when the illuminations have finish. Only one small slip up this time, they misplaced me for about fifteen minutes. I’d got sidetracked taking a photo of a stream lit by lights and they didn’t miss me, just walked on. Unfortunately I was the only one in the group without a mobile phone, so they all had to spilt up and keep phoning each other. I eventually met up with Mike and we waited by the Big Wheel until we all got back together. I totally ignored the comments about buying me a pair of reins – cheeky sods. I fought for years against having a mobile – until it was taken out of my hands and work issued me with one as I the main Key holder, if the alarm goes off. I’m still not keen on carrying it around all the time. Mobiles have their uses I’ll grant you, but is the world really going to end because you can’t ring someone about what brand of tuna you need to buy? I think not.

++++

Steve visited on Sunday and I got a Muuuuum – I need a favour. Oh no, he didn’t need to borrow more money – I swear to God he thinks I’m the Bank of England. No this time he wanted to borrow my camera – I think I would have preferred the money. I’ve got a bit attached to my camera and take it with me nearly everywhere. You never know when something will catch your eye. He wanted to take a picture of some car bumpers that he was going to sell on ebay. Hugging the camera tightly to my chest, I asked him how long he was going to be. Only a couple of hours, he said. Then he’d bring it back. Oh, and when he came back, could I download the pictures and put them on e-bay to sell. Yes, no problem, anything else? Well there was actually, could I go on the AA site and print him a route map for Blackpool, he and Lucy quite fancied looking at the lights. Oh God, that means I’m going to worry myself sick next weekend thinking about them travelling up north. Two and a half hours on the motorway.
Don’t get me wrong he’s not a bad driver really, although he did manage to write off his first car. He hit a patch of ice coming home one night, and slipped sideways into a four wheel drive. We got a phone call around midnight, saying he was OK, but he thought his car was totalled. When we arrived, there were three police cars and I couldn’t see Steve. I may have had a slight moment of panic until I found him sat in the back of a police car with a policeman crouched down by him trying to comfort him over the loss of his pride and joy. The Police were absolutely wonderful and helped us get things sorted quite quickly. Steve had rung them himself because he was concerned about the other couple and this car was half blocking the road – totalled was a good way of describing it, it certainly wasn’t drivable. Both drivers were breathalysed, neither had been drinking. I’d have killed him myself with my bare hands if he had drunk and drove. No, just an accident - inexperience playing the largest part. The main thing being no one was hurt, you can always replace a car, you can’t replace a person.
So he said he’d be back shortly with Lucy, they probably stop for tea. After eating the best part of a box of Jaffa Cakes I wasn’t sure if he would be hungry, but he was adamant he wanted tea – we were having a roast weren’t we? Then he totally through me, I nearly fell of my chair. As he was walking out the door, he said “See you later, love you.” Don’t get me wrong, both of my kids are very loving in their own way, even more so when they were younger. And even now Steve always gives me a hug before going home – he’s just not that verbal about it. I think being with Lucy has made a difference – he’s no longer embarrassed to show it. Matthew will hug if no one’s around – his street cred being at risk. Heaven forbid anyone sees him. He’s still going through the ‘Kevin’ stage (http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/guide/articles/h/harryenfieldandc_66601360.shtml) and does a pretty good impression of Harry Enfield’s character. Hopefully, like his older brother he grow out of it in a few years time, and magically turn back into someone not afraid to say I love you.

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We’ve got new next door neighbours. Mrs Lloyd has moved into a bungalow, she couldn’t cope with the stairs any more. They’re a nice couple about our age, with a 15 year old son; who Matt knows and a 12 year old daughter. Apparently I went to school with the husband, but I can’t remember him although the name is vaguely familiar. Mind you, he would have had hair on the top of his head and wouldn’t have been sporting a hairy caterpillar on his top lip back then. As he was talking my eyes kept being drawn to his moustache and I watch in fascinating horror as it came to life. I hope to God I never have to watch him eat anything.

I received this snotty e-mail about why Geocities had decided to play God and pull the plug on my website:


Hello,

Thank you for writing to Yahoo! Geocities.

The GeoCities Terms of Service states that you cannot use your GeoCities page to link any other page, whether inside or beyond Yahoo! and/or GeoCities.

You are welcome to establish a new account with Yahoo! and Yahoo!
Domains at anytime provided that your use complies with our Terms of
Service. If you are concerned that your intended use of our service may
be a violation of the TOS, we encourage you to review the TOS and to
take care to proceed accordingly.

For more information, please see the Terms of Service at
http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/geoterms.html

Please submit your questions to this email address for further
investigation geo-cancellation@cc.yahoo-inc.com

Thank you again for contacting Yahoo! Customer Care.

Regards,

Jamie Williams

Yahoo! Customer Care
http://www.yahoo.com/


When it first went off line, I thought it might be because I’d posted ‘Conkers’ – but no, Smut is just fine. It was because I was linking. The link they are talking about is my blog – so basically it your fault *Laugh* I wasn’t a happy bunny, I only moved my blog because they offered the service on their website manager – a link to their own blog site, by the way. Well aren’t I the stupid one? – fancy thinking that as it was on their page builder I could actually use it. So stuff you Geocities *blows raspberry*. I’ve taken my custom elsewhere.

The website is a bit rushed I’m afraid, still trying to get use to tripod. I also installed Microsoft Front Page – which I brought years ago to teach myself how to build a website – then lost the nerve and it’s been in the cupboard ever since.

So I’m back to it and will ‘blog’ later.

I spent nearly ten minutes looking at a blank page this morning trying to think what to write – unusual for me with my gift for the gab. I’ve felt a bit low Tuesday and Wednesday – not depressed, believe me that something totally different – just a bit fed up I suppose, although I’ve tried hard not to show it – not always easy being funny feeling like this, it’s a bit forced. Everyone feels low now and again, can’t be happy all the time now can you? Unfortunately if I feel like it - Himself, Trace and my boss Sandy jump on it like it’s a free drink, which to be fair I can understand, but it’s worse than the Spanish inquisition. What they don’t understand is that it puts even more pressure on me and I’ve tried to tell them this, I really have. They are all so keyed in to my moods that I can’t always hide it. They can all now spot very small subtle changes that no one else does, and panic for want of a better word. It will take time I suppose, I think in some funny way they all felt they’d let me down, which they most certainly didn’t and now they’re worried that they may miss the signs again. I don’t know why, I’m bloody sure I’m not ever going there again. No, not depressed, just a little bit low. I think it’s a little bit to do with the weather – always drizzling rain here at the moment and although I love Autumn (spelt correctly please note) I don’t like this sort of rain. I like the wind blowing, chucking it against the window, type of rain – a good storm. Work – very busy recruiting as well as normal stuff, so feeling a bit under pressure and college. I can’t seem to get into this course – just not in the mood and it’s getting in the way. I’m enjoying doing other things now; writing obviously, photography, time spent with family and friends, chatting to new friends and visiting places – in short, just living again. Something that we all take for granted, unless you lose it that is. I don’t take it for granted anymore - I appreciate all that I’ve got, everything I do. I look at the world slightly differently now, I see the little things and I hope I’m a better person for it.
OK – snap out of it woman – stop being so morose. Actually I felt a lot better when I woke up yesterday morning. Because of my mood Himself has suggested that I think of something nice I’d like to do – No, not that, some people - minds like sewers. No, let’s go out somewhere, he said. So because I wrote about Walsall Lights, I thought I’d quite fancy going there again. We are now planning a trip out on Saturday night to look at them – writing about it made me think I’d like to go there again. And what started out as just the two of us has grown to include Trace, Rich, Chels, Mags and Mike. No Matthew said, he didn’t want to go, it would be borrring. His loss – we’re going to stop for a meal afterwards so it should be a good night all round.

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OK, I feel a confession coming on…I forgot to taken my library books back and now have to pay nearly £10.00 in fines, which of course Himself will know nothing about. No, I agree it’s not something that I should be punished for – everyone has done it at one time or the other. The problem is that I’ve had them since July and have already renewed them 3 times over the internet – the sods make you take them back after that. I just didn’t get round to reading them that’s all. I had to watch Big Brother for a start. Yes, its appalling viewing, they deliberately choose a group of people that won’t get on all in the name of entertainment. The contestants themselves playing to the cameras, but, well….its addictive. It’s that bad you can’t help watching it. Then of course I joined the group and started writing, made new friends, people I could be myself with. Along came the holiday and the opportunity to indulge in buying myself a few books – for few, read 4 – so I’ve not got round to reading the library books yet – and now they are well overdue. The problems really arises from the fact that Himself may have asked me a little while ago if I’d taken them back, and I may have led him to believe that I had returned them and the books that were by the side of the bed were new ones.

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I spent nearly half an hour last night trying to re-programme my car radio. My car needed some work to get through the MOT and the battery had to be disconnected. So I read the instructions – Yes, that’s a first – and entered the code – and it wouldn’t accept it. I tried it a total of 4 times, getting more annoyed by the minute. After each attempt you have to wait a set period of time before trying again. On the fifth attempt twenty-five minutes later, it suddenly dawn on me that there was another four digit number on the card I was holding – right by the side of the words: Radio Code.

++++

Why can’t men put the toilet seat back down? I’m mean it’s hardly rocket science is it? Bloody hell, they mess about with everything else and are convinced they can put it back together. It really pisses – no pun intended – me off when I go to the bathroom in the middle of the night – without turning the lights on. I’ve lived in the house on and off for the best part of my life, I don’t need lights – and I fall down the loo because the toilet seat isn’t where it should be!

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I took today’s picture on Sunday when we went out for a drive around. I knew what I wanted to produce and was a bit disappointed when I downloaded the pictures only to find it wasn’t what I’d been hoping to achieve. That is, until I started to play with them on the computer – by simply turning some of them into sepia, they changed completely and I’m now really pleased with the effect. Hope you like it too.