I’m feeling decidedly woolly headed this morning.

I got home from work last night and decided that I should do something about the ironing which was threatening to escape from the shed where the tumble dryer is kept. We were getting to the point where we had nothing to wear without creases in and I was running out of knickers. And it’s not warm enough to go walking around without knickers on.

I carried the first basket load in from the shed and started sneezing; this was then followed by my eyes starting to run along with my nose. Now I’ve not taken any Piriton tablets for a while, so I imagine that my system needed a boost. I took a tablet and carried on. What a hero.

Do you know how difficult it is to iron when you’re in the midst of an allergic reaction? I could hardly see through my eyes and my nose was like someone had turned on a tap. Constantly running.

I’m not sure what caused the reaction, although I could be allergic to ironing I suppose. Anyway, half an hour later I decided that I should take another tablet. I usually end up taking two before they work and carried on attacking the second basket of ironing. There was no let up in the reaction and what with the sneezing that happen when I least expected it; I was getting in a bit of a mess.

I’d got the iron in one hand and a tissue in the other. It was touch and go as to whether I put the iron to my face when I sneezed by mistake. Himself suggested that I stop, but as ironing doesn’t take care of itself and I’m not rich enough to have a housekeeper – I bit the bullet and carried on. If I didn’t finish it last night, I’d only have to start again this evening – better to just get the job over and done with.

I came to the conclusion as I started the third basket load that the tablets weren’t having any affect, so I did what most normal people would do in the circumstances. I totally ignored the instructions on the packet and took a third tablet.

About twenty minutes after that the sneezing, runny nose and watery eyes stopped. Which would have been great if I hadn’t been wandering around like a drug crazed zombie. You’d think after taking the piss out of Pooks over her allergic reaction to tablets I would have known better. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case and by 9.30 I was fast asleep in bed. I must say that I probably had the best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages, but getting up for work this morning was a killer.

In fact I've been such a hero carrying on regardless of my suffering that I can't quite believe that Ms. Wag didn't send me congratulations and lots of naked boys running. Obviously certain types around here get spoilt rotten just ‘cause they have shoe addictions and the poor sod who does all the website work gets totally forgotten about. I'm one of the down trodden and looked over and completely missed out ones. Just in case you didn't know.

*wanders off in a sulk*

The Rainbow Slider thinks you may be interested in my day so as she has been a super star these past couple of days I'm actually doing what I'm told for once. Maybe I should have ensured that you were all sitting down before I said that. Sorry. You shouldn't really drink coffee over your keyboard.

Regular readers will have been aware that due to a situation beyond my control I have had to apply for and interview for my own job. At this point most of my compadres here in Internet Land have their fingers in their ears singing 'Lalalalalla. Has she stopped chuntering on yet?' Anyway today was the day and from early yesterday folks around here stepped up to the plate to stop me going completely off the deep end. And I am eternally grateful. The Rainbow Slider bore with me during the saga of the singular shoe. And for the record, of course I have more than one pair of black high heels but I wanted/needed that pair. They're 'from the car to the bar' shoes i.e. not the most comfortable but definitely the ones for the outfit. Look, I'm only 5'5" I needed the four inches that these shoes give me.

So today dressed to the nines and wearing the four inch stilettos, I arrived at my place of work and as usual it was raining. Dilemma no 1. I can hardly walk in these shoes, never mind run. Need a parking space right next to the door. There are none but two of our care taking staff are cleaning the place. Drive up to them and gulder. One of them finds me a space next to the door just as it stops raining - actually he moves the sign that says 'Motor bikes only.' Pet. As I get out of the car the two of them let out the loudest wolf whistles. This you see is not my normal look. The hair is done - very blond, very sleek. The suit is pressed and there is no coffee poured down the leg or marker pen on it. The face has just been applied - now I do put the face on every day, at my age it's essential - but this face is still in place and is not left behind on my hands, spread all over my face or on my coffee cup. The nails are done - false no less - no it's not the usual but I've just moved house remember and they looked like they'd been through a grater. And then there are the four inch heels. So they looked, they saw, they whistled. I laughed. And found myself on the wrong side of the politically correct fence. These men are my friends, we talk, joke with and insult each other most days of our working lives. Unfortunately the woman appointed as 'equality officer for the Union' (that will be the rant for another day) was also in the car park and objected. Actually she nearly tripped over her moses sandals in her haste to object. She wagged her finger at the men and ranted about how women had been objectified for too long in our establishment. Two mouths dropped open. I told her to pull her head in and leave them alone and then I got it for encouraging the denigration of women. I'm not a good role model apparently. I pointed out that they hadn't whistled at her but at me and I wasn't objecting. At my age I'm glad someone notices when I actually put in the effort and besides we're friends. They wouldn't have done it to someone they didn't know. She offered to send me the booklet she's produced on how we should address each other. I offered to help her digest said book. And on that note left to do the interview.

Now it's odd doing an interview in the place you already work. No one quite gets the protocol. I stop to speak to the woman on reception and she laughingly offers to show me to the office - yes that's right my office. I smile back though I'm not fully recovered from the incident in the car park. Then she calls me back. Would I mind dealing with a query before I go up for the interview? Someone needed to speak to a member of staff who could answer a question for them. Wasn't it lucky that I was there? (that's her speaking by the way) I was so gobsmacked that I went back. I know, totally out of character . Thankfully Mummy Margaret was also in reception and stopped me from receptionistcide. She did it for me. I exited stage left before I also was reminded of why I was dressed up like a tailor's dummy. You've got to love your work colleagues.

Arrived at the office via the loos - just checking that the lipstick was still attached to the lips. I'm going to sue those cosmetic companies who claim all day lip coverage. My coffee cup gets the coverage - at least I can tell my mug from those of the men I work with. None of them have the colouring for 'Ice Tea.'

Boss pops his head round the door. Oh good I'm here, would I mind awfully coming in to the room and giving them a hand? They were having some difficulty with the Laptop and couldn't get it up on the screen. My opposition was waiting to do his presentation. No, I didn't sabotage it, either before or after. Service with a smile. That's my motto.

My turn. Chairman is very formal and introduces everyone. No one else in the room but us chickens who have worked together for the past six years and he feels the need to give me the full names and job titles of all the people on the panel. One of these works right next door to me and I speak to him at least ten times a day, one I have lunch with and coffee with nearly every working day, one, him actually, I hauled home from the Christmas do and had to stop the car to let him lose the vast amounts of alcohol in his system.

I did the worst interview - I wouldn't have employed me. But they have. By the time I got home I'd missed the unofficial phone call from my boss; four other members of staff sent emails congratulating me before I actually knew. Secrets are an unknown and unpracticed concept at work.

So normal service can now be restored. I will be my usual cool, calm and collected self. And I will remember with extreme gratitude those who gave up sleep and work and coffee break to be the equivalent of the toothache making one forget that one has appendicitis. There were loads of emails passed today even though everyone was as usual very busy. Plus afterwards Scally sent boys to congratulate me. Naked boys. Lots of naked boys running. I didn't look.

You know I was sorely tempted to change the blog set up again today, but had second thoughts. Pook’s sense of humour isn’t at the forefront at the moment – she’d no doubt thump me.

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OK, no photos today, something else instead. I have to state that this is ‘still work in progress’, but I wanted to show it off anyway. I like getting my own way ;-) Blogger doesn't do it justice really, you need to see it full screen.

I’ve watched this picture build up slowly over the last two months from just grey shapes and outlines, to what you see today and I’m truly impressed at Rudy Roo’s abilities. Not only has she mastered the paint programme which I’ll be honest, I’ve tried and failed at, but also her ability to produce the picture she sees in her minds eye. What an achievement.

It’s also interesting to see how her skills have developed over time from the last paintings which I published on 20th Feb. Well done Roo, I look forward to seeing this one finished.

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I don’t know why I was surprised really, it’s not as if I don’t know what she’s like. I doubt this will surprise any of you either – Pooks is getting a bit of a reputation with regards to computers after all.

Last night I sent ten minutes sat at the computer waiting for Pooks to continue talking on MSN messenger. Unfortunately she was doing the same. Just sat there waiting for me to say something. I’d sent 4 messages which she assures me she hadn’t got her end. God knows what she had done with them – she’s the only person I know that can mislay instant messages.

Anyway, I then talked her through a shoe crisis – she’s lost one in the move. Her trousers would be too long without those shoes. This is how bad she is for shopping, she was actually considering going into town to buy some new ones this morning. There is just no way that she only has one pair of black high heels, it was just an excuse to go shopping. OK, she may not be as bad as Scally when it comes to shoes, but she has a fair few pairs. And let’s be honest here – not even Imelda Marcos could out do Scally in the shoe purchasing stakes.

Then I basically talked Pooks to death until sleep seemed the only means of escape – anything to shut me up. At least she couldn't worry about the interview if she was asleep.

As I’m typing this, she will have just started her interview. So I’m sending lucky thought vibes. It’s not nice to have to interview for a job that you’ve been undertaking successfully for the last 12 months – especially as you’ve been carrying the work load of a man who is waiting to retire and everyone automatically assumes that you’ll do all that needs doing for the department to continue operating. Shame you don’t get paid anything extra for doing it either.

Yes I've changed the template yet again, variety being the spice of life after all. And I’m feed up with all the rain we’re getting, it’s about time it stopped and we had some sunshine instead.

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As previously promised today’s pictures are of Lower Brockhampton House in Herefordshire.

Whilst there it only seemed polite to visit the coffee shop and sample the home made cakes. The birds around there aren’t at all frightened of the public and quite happily land on your table to eat the crumbs. There were breeds of birds that I haven’t seen since my childhood.

I got talking to the lady who runs the tea room and she told me that she feeds them all year round, even when the property is closed, she still makes the time to bring food and fat balls in the winter. She’s watched the same birds rear their young year after year, and the youngster come back too.

A nutcracker and a pair of tits (I know, but it was too good an opportunity to miss).

A female moorhen and chicks not at all bothered by the members of the public walking around the moat.


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The cat has obviously had a serious falling out with the mouse population of the village, where as before she’d bring them home alive – we are now getting only mortal remains.

Twice last night the little sod woke me up with that meow that heralds the arrival of her and a guest, the first time being around 2am. I threw the mouse out of the window ready to pick up in the morning, and then again around 4.30ish. This time I didn’t get out of bed quick enough and she started to eat it. I can put up with many things, but the crunching of bones fair turns my stomach. I woke both Himself and Youngest with my scream of ‘LUCY’. And we’ll have no comment about me having a big mouth, thank you very much.

We then had the usually – ‘That’s it, from now on the bloody window is staying closed at night, are you listening to me?’ off Himself. I don’t bother arguing about it, we both know full well that he’ll close it when he comes to bed and at some point in the night, I’ll get up and open it again. But he obviously feels the need to say these things, and just as obviously I need to ignore them. It works well, and marriage is all about compromise after all.

Himself wasn’t at all pleased with me this morning either – apparently when I’d thrown the mice out of the window they’d landed on the roof of his car. The crunched up one had very inconsiderately bleed on his paintwork too. Personally I think he should have taken it up with the cat, I didn’t kill them after all.

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Pooks is preparing for her interview tomorrow so for safety’s sake we all need to walk around on tiptoes. The Irish are, um…. what word can I safely use? Expressive, that’s it. Pooks is expressive at the best of times – but she’s now on the cusp of becoming very expressive. I’m sure that everyone sends her good luck wishes, even if they don’t actually send the email. It’s the thought that counts after all. A bit like sending feedback. Oops! Probably shouldn’t have mentioned that!

You would have been suffering yet more pictures today, but unfortunately the electricity went off at 5.30 yesterday evening so I wasn’t able to download them. I know you’re gutted but I promise that I’ll upload tomorrow. Yes, O.K. that was probably more of a threat than a promise. But count your blessing, some people have to suffer a side show as well.

I can’t believe just how much I rely on electricity – I couldn't cook (a trip to the fish & chip shop for tea), I couldn't have a soak in the bath with my book, I couldn’t use the computer or play on the gamecube – awful that one, I’m half way through The legend of Zelda: the Four Swords Adventure. I refuse to buy the games when they are first released as you can pick them up for a faction of the cost 12 months later, but I’m a big Zelda fan, both gameboy and gamecube. Yes, well, some people never grow up - what can I say, I'm just young at heart.

I ended up going into work at 9.30 last night to boil a kettle so that Himself and my Dad could have a cup of tea. OK, I’ll admit I may have logged on to the computer whilst waiting for the kettle to boil, but someone just may have missed me. I doubt it of course, but I wouldn’t want them to worry or think they’d eventually got rid of me. No one is that lucky – I’ve told them all countless times that they are cursed.

I couldn’t even read a book, the light from the tealights wasn’t strong enough. Himself wanted to light the bigger candles that I brought for show and at nearly £9 a candle that is all they would ever be. Can you believe the man? You don’t pay that sort of money for candles to burn them.

I texted Pooks to tell her that I was cut off from the ouside world, that I had only one bar of power left on my mobile and 'I am just going outside and may be some time' just like Captain Oats. I then bequested her JJ and asked that she tell Scally that I was leaving her all my smut.

Totally wasted on her of course - being Irish her phone couldn't cope with the text, and she tried to blame me! Can you believe it? The woman hasn't got a technical bone in her body and only has to look at Blogger to break it. Bloody cheek - that's what eating too many puddings does for you, and she didn't even offer to share.

Anyway, the electric eventually came back on around 11 last night – just in time to go to bed.

Youngest had a tennis match last night and my Dad was off out on his annual works meal. Baggeridge present members of staff that have worked for them for 25 years with a gold watch and membership to the ‘long service’ club, which meets once a year in a posh hotel. This year will probably be the last time it happens as Baggeridge have been taken over by the Austrian company, Wienerberger, and I doubt they will cover the cost.

Which meant that Himself decided that we should go out for a meal as well, which I wasn’t going to argue about. A good excuse not to do the ironing and no cooking or washing up? What can I say? It was a tough decision to make.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I should practice drinking alchol a bit more too – two glasses of wine and I was well oiled. It never used to be like that, two bottles more like.

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The weather here continues to be awful – no one appears to have told it that it’s summer and we are due some rays. Definitely time to think about booking a holiday. I wasn’t sure if we’d get away this year due to Himself breaking his shoulder and the need to build up the savings again.

But we both work hard all year and that one week away is very necessary to recharge our batteries. It’s also the only time I’m not at the beck and call of someone else. It will be the first time since before the kids were born that we’ll have gone away as a couple. Youngest is going on holiday with this mate’s family in three weeks time.

They are planning on going off on their own – so I’ll be making sure that his case contains condoms. Yes, nothing like an evil mother embarrassing her child. I used to drop eldest off at school and then drive past waving and blowing kisses. His mates used to find it hillarious, and do the same back to me.

That is something I miss, when eldest was living at home our house was always full of teenagers. I only see then occasionally now – I’m not half as up to date on current music and no one washes up for me. Mind you my freezer doesn’t empty half as quickly either, talk about feeding the five thousand. Youngest perfers to meet his mates at the club and play darts.

Himself could do with cheering up too – his company is moving their premises up to Merry Hell, which means further for him to travel. The amount of traffic that way will also add time to his journey. No one is very happy about the move, but a job’s a job, so unless he can find something closer to home – he’s got to move with them.

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Yes, I know this feeling only to well.

I've decided to end today with one of Scally's jokes. They make me laugh and as there's not enough laughter around I'll consider it my good deed for the day.

A German guy approaches a prostitute and says " I vish to buy sex vit you"

"OK" says the girl, "I charge 100 dollars an hour"

"Ist goot, But I must varn you, I am a little kinky"

"No problem" she replies cautiously, "I can do a little kinky"

So off they go to the girl's flat, where the German produces four large bedsprings and a duck caller. "I vant you to tie ze springs to each of yourlimbs.

"The girl finds this very strange, but complies, fastening the springs to her hands and knees. "Now you vill get on your hans and knees."

She duly does this, balancing on thesprings. "You vill please blow zis vistle as I make love to you."

She finds all this very odd, but figures it's harmless and the guy is paying. The sex is fantastic. She is bounced all over the room by the energetic German, all the time honking on the duck caller. The climax is the most sensational she has ever experienced, and it is several minutes before she has recovered her breath.

Finally she gasps "That was totally amazing ....... what do you call that?"

"Ah", says the German,"Four-sprung duck technique"

Half the staff haven’t made it into work today, we had flash floods last night. Several staff’s homes were flooded, and the rest just couldn’t get here because of road closures due to flood water, mud or the fact the road just wasn’t there anymore.

Personally I was having a ‘Nero’ moment, except I hadn’t got a fiddle - just my camera. I’d watch the sky get blacker and blacker in the distance whilst sat at the computer and then heard the thunder. If I could just get the timing right, I might even get a picture of lightening. I didn’t of course, my timing sucks.

Off I wandered down the fields that over look Great Witley & Shrawley and watched the blanket of rain fall in the distance, it missed us completely. Although we’ve never had much of a problem with flooding as we’re on a hill, the bottom half of the village suffers I'm afraid.

So the best I could manage was some black cloud shots and getting myself stung by stringing nettles, which I’d failed to notice until I was standing in the midst of them.

This Sunday was the first Fathers Day I had no one to buy something for. Himself doesn't count - the kidlets can use the Internet purchasing thing better than me and I have badges for it. My Father-in-Law died earlier this year and my own father died over twenty years ago when I was in my very early twenties. 'Dad' stepped into the void left behind and took on the role with aplomb, good grace and good humour having already taken on Himself and his siblings as his own when he married their mother. He's been my 'Dad' for over twenty-five years. No I'm not ancient - Himself and I met at school. On Friday, while purchasing birthday cards for middle son, I forgot, momentarily, that he was gone and seeing one with cricket on the front thought 'Oh, Dad will like that one.' He was a Yorkshire man with all the sporting baggage that that implies. Not many families here understand LBW but we all do - come to that not many families here know the words of 'On Ilkley Moor bar tat!' That forgetting thing that you do is very disconcerting - suddenly you're swept backwards to the rawness of grief with all the emotions that that entails.

As you know I've recently moved house and, although in these past couple of years, ill health meant that he couldn't help physically, he would always be there sounding out about the best way to do things. Initially on the weekend of the move, surrounded by the rest of the family we all did that 'ignoring the elephant in the room' thing. Then a little person did the emperors new clothes deal ' I wish Granda was here to see the new house' and we all stopped and looked around acknowledging that we would have no new memories built of him here . And then an even smaller person reminded us that although the person may be gone memories and links remain. 'But Granda is here, look the roses are white and there are red trees ( red Acer).' Sometimes it takes a four year old to point out the obvious. All of the sayings he brought to the family such as, 'Tell your mother thanks for the dripping,' 'Tarrah ducks,' and when asked 'tea or coffee?' the standard reply - 'porridge' have become family vocabulary. My nephew has just come through the door with a 'I'm here and to prove it, I've arrived.'

So on Sunday, as everyone else was away, I went on my own to the grave to take him some of his beloved Yorkshire Roses ( roses in our family are never, ever red) and to thank him for having a heart big enough to adopt another stray into his family. Family isn't always about blood ties but about all the other things that bind you all together. My sister-in-law and I were alone with him when he died. His 'girls' holding his hands and telling him we loved him like he loved us. That's family.


I know I said I don't do photos but as you can tell I didn't take this one and it's a special one, found for me by a special friend.

Sunday was Father’s Day and Himself’s choice of venue for our day out. Which meant the Three Counties Show at Malvern. I can’t complain (well I can, I'm very good at it) he wanders around enough National Trust properties & museums with me. It’s a typical country fair and the weather, although not sunny, did manage to remain rain free. Unlike Friday and Saturday when it bucketed down, hence it was a little on the muddy side.




Red Devils Parachute Team
I can't remember this lady's name or much about her career - which is pretty impressive. I do remember her age - 55 - which the Commentator told us about ten times. Bet she loves him.

This was the first year I didn’t have to buy Himself a present from the kids for Father’s day as they are both working, although youngest did give me the money and ask that I go into town to buy his dad's t-shirt – he was at work so couldn’t go himself. Whilst in Sports World I noticed a display of stunt kites, now Himself used to have a thing about kites, so I brought him one.

As a child whenever they visited his grandparents in South Shields, Tyne & Wear his treat for the holiday was always a kite, which he’d then spend hours playing with on the beach. I can still remember going on holiday with his family to sunny Wales when I was 17, he was adamant that he was going to buy a kite.

Now neither of us was able to drive at the time so to get any where we had to walk. The Caravan Park was quite secluded and Himself having stopped there before, claimed he knew the area and that there was some shops just up the lane. Unfortunately I didn’t know just what he was like back then. I’d been going out with him for about 4 months (his parents gave me a room with two beds - all to myself), I was still innocently unaware of his idea of ‘just up the lane’.

A two hour trek and probably about 5 miles later, we found the shops. Luckily for Himself I was still in the heady stages of young love at the time, that and the fact that the shop sold kites – ‘cause no way was I going anywhere else but back to the caravan.

Being Wales the heavens opened on the trek back, which just about made my day. Neither of us had coats and there was no place to shelter, so we just carried on walking. It was a good job really as it continued raining the rest of the day and the best part of the night.

The following day was at least dry but being by the sea, very windy – perfect kite flying weather! The sea was stormy with the waves crashing onto the beach, the sort of thing I would now walk miles for just to take some photos of. Himself set the kite up and I was positioned further away awaiting instructions to launch it into the air. The wind nearly took me off my feet and it was all I could do to hold onto the bloody thing.

Himself gave the order and I threw the kite into the air; it promptly turned around and flew into the sand at my feet. Not one for giving up, Himself came over and gave me instructions for the new plan of action. I would hold the kite above my head and we would both run (young love remember) along the beach, the wind would them lift the kite into the sky.

Which to be fair it did, it was just unfortunate that Himself was running and turning around to look at the kite at the time, so he failed to notice the rock in front of him. Head over heels he went, didn’t hurt himself but he did let go of the kite. Which sail majestically into the air and shot off down the beach. Himself did try to chase after it, but even he could see it was a lost cause. The kite disappeared over the sand dunes.

No, we didn’t go back and buy another one, but it hasn’t put him off kites at all. He used to buy them for the kids when they were small and then take then out and play with them himself. The kids were lucky if they got a go.

At last the rain has slowed down; we’ve just had showers today. With a bit of luck it will hold off for the best part of tomorrow too as we’re off to the Three Countries Show, doing something Himself enjoys for a change.
The showers did bring a few visitors, this chap for a start

On this photo he looks like he’s saying good grief it’s a long way down.

Doing my usual friend to all creatures bit, I moved him off the wall and carried him across the road to the safety of the hedge – it’s was only later that I notice a thrush rooting around.

And talking of looking down,

Then it dawned on her that I was taking pictures, so being a cat she flatly refused to look at me again.

We took the dogs for a walk along the old railway line tonight, Himself can still remember the train station in Stourport. Wouldn't get any trains down there now, it was really overgrown in places.

Remember how I said I loved the new house? Well it's now surrounded by water on all four sides. Yes, we've got trapped by flood water. Largest son's main concern is that his girlfriend won't be able to get here and that the Sky installation has had to be cancelled - again, the first call off was due to Tuesday's thunder and lighting storm. Life is not worth living without multitudinous channels it would seem. Now the fact that my car is stranded in rising tides about two miles from the house and that middle son and I had to wade home before being rescued by lovely gardener neighbour in a lorry is not an issue apparently. (Note to self; next day it rains don't go out in an ankle length skirt - sartorial oops - Middle son frowned at me taking off my shoes to wade through the 'river' - they're brand new, just bought and I love them. Apparently I need my head read.) My main concern and the one I would like the moaning minnies in the house to grasp is that littlest child is in school twenty miles away and OUR ROADS ARE CLOSED OFF. Himself is also in the city and is going to collect child from school - still leaves us with the fact that the roads are closed in a four mile circle around us. Bless the neighbours with tractors. It brings out the Dunkirk spirit in us all. Well, as long as you're not a teenager. I now have a lake in front of the house where a field used to be and already it has ducks. It's been there for six hours max - how the heck did they know? Is there a duck telegraph system that says 'New stretch of water lads - no tides and the people may throw us some stale bread' is that it?

Never has the fact that my writing partner has a thing for rainbows seemed more ironic to me. I would love to see a rainbow right now - the living one has as ever been very supportive ; I think she was nearly setting out to collect littlest child herself. Every year our Water Service operatives tell us about June time that there isn't enough water for the summer and we have to be careful with it. If they do that this year they'll get strangled with their own hosepipe.

Wet and bedraggled.

I see that Pooks did a good job and kept everyone amused - I bet you cracked up when she tried to make out she was innocent. Actually she reminds me of one of Terry Pratchett’s characters – The Duck Man, the intellectual member of the Canting Crew. For those of you without the sense to read Mr Pratchett’s books for yourself - the reason that the Duck Man is called the Duck Man, and considered insane, is that there is a duck sitting on top of his head, but he convinced that there isn't.

Anyway I took a much needed day off - although it didn’t go to plan and it was only grim determination that kept me in bed to 4.00pm.

I chose yesterday as a catch up day as Youngest was not at work so I didn’t have to play taxi driver. I got up as normal and sorted the animals and the newspapers and was back in bed by 7.30 a.m. So when the telephone rang at 9.15 a.m. I was fast a sleep. Now when the telephone rings I’m instantly awake – this dates back to my mum, when the phone could ring anytime during the night if there was a problem. I always wake with that feeling of dread in my stomach.

And who was on the phone, you ask? Mr Financial Controller, that's who. Please could he send Craig with a cheque that needed signing. I was absolutely gob smacked to start with, which was quickly followed by seething anger. Not counting the fact that I was on holiday so shouldn’t have been bothered anyway – he’d asked me the day before if I had anything planned and I’d told him that I was planning on spending the day in bed to catch up on my sleep. So the bastard knew and chose to ignore it.

Basically they hadn’t got their act together in Accounts and needed some petty cash. Sandy was on holiday and had left some signed blank cheques but he needed two signatures. And of course he couldn’t possibly ring one of the Trustees. Nooooo; he didn’t want to bother them when I lived the closest.

There will be some changes going on next week – and I will not be receiving any further communications on my days off. Come to think of it I got a call on my mobile from FC the last time I was off – but as I was on the way to Gloucester so I couldn’t sign the cheque.

I should have told him I wouldn’t do it this time either with hind sight – but I was still half asleep and not thinking straight. So I got up, made myself some toast and waited for Craig, signed the cheque and went back to bed.

I did fall asleep and managed another couple of hours before the phone rang again. This time it was the Dentist wanting to speak to Himself – they’d had a cancellation and wanted to move his 5.30 p.m. appointment forward if possible. I politely told them he was at work – Oh, OK, they said. They ring him on his mobile. Arrggghhhhhhhh.

Try again or just get up? No, I’d taken the day off with the sole purpose of sleeping and I was going to sleep if it was the last thing I did. Of course if I had thought it through, I would have unplugged the phone. That way when the CPSA rang to say that Youngest’s membership had expired and did he want a new application form sending? I wouldn’t have answered it.

It was getting on to 4pm by then – which by anyone’s standards would be considered a lie in and it had started to thunder and pour down with rain. Billy is terrified of thunder, so I got up and wandered downstairs to find him. After a bit of a searching I located him squashed between the sofa and the wall and took him in to stay with my dad whilst I went upstairs and ran a bath.

I’m feeling much better this morning – not so tired. Mind you after spending the best part of the day asleep and still managing to sleep all night as well, I bloody ought to.
And I'll give it one more week, if my mood hasn't lifted by then I'm going to have to go back to the doctors.

So, when the Rainbow Slider said that she needed a holiday apparently that included the blog. Last week she caught me at a weak moment and it seems that I agreed to share the writing of the page. It wasn't so much of a weak moment actually and more of a 'should have asked the pertinent question concerning why she wanted me to go and sign in to the account' type of moment. You really would think that I'd have learned my lesson by now. She has the uncanny skill of getting me to agree to doing things like putting my boys on the site without me noticing what she's up too. In my defence I've been a bit distracted what with moving house and trying to get to the year end in work without killing someone.

Just so you're aware what you'll be getting when I'm the one on the keyboard. There'll be no photos I'm afraid - I leave that skill to other members of this page. They can look through view finders and take pretties. I cut off peoples heads or feet and sometimes even both at once and before the digital revolution developed lots of pictures of my thumb. The family called a halt to my David Bailey career the day I made the littlest child fall into a trough of water in a theme park. The older children have got a lot of mileage out of this story in a variation of the common 'You were an accident - the rest of us were planned' torture that siblings do to each other. I was determined that I was going to take a picture of the child that could be put into an album. We were visiting one of those model village parks in the Loire and I got him to stand in front of one of the Chateau which were all surrounded by water in an attempt, I suppose, to stop people going in and pinching the little people. Baring in mind he was only two at the time so hadn't yet got to the stage of 'Clear off Mum' he posed smiling cheesily at me. Only I couldn't see all of him and started doing the ' Move back a bit honey, a bit more, a bit more, wee bit more' juggling to get both his head and his feet and the chateau in the picture. Unfortunately I was paying more attention to the composition and less to the proximity of the shuck. And he being a good child was doing what Mummy asked and kept moving back and yes, then there was a splash and a wail and then I was glared at by lots of other tourists and was made to surrender my responsible mummy card. Look, I bought him whatever he wanted in the gift shop. Even at two he could do guilt. So there will be no photos.


There will be moaning and pontificating though and quotes - I like a good quote. We could play quote wars but that won't work because none of you use the comment box so it would be one sided and that's no fun.

Today's moan concerns moving house. Much as I love the new house the process of getting here, as those of you who have either read the comment box or have been the recipient of emails you were afraid to open in case they started shouting like the Howlers sent to the students of Hogwarts know, has been just a tad stressful. I've got fingernails which wouldn't be out of place on the hands of a navvy, so many bruises that i could play human dot to dot, and can't find anything. It's this not being able to find anything that is the real subject of today's gripe. The men in my life don't seem to be able to grasp the concept that Mum's/wife's radar has been switched off during the move. I swear that men/children think that part of the bodily structure of a woman has a 'finder of everything you've lost' included with all the other organs. Himself this morning ' Where's my PDA?', youngest child, ' Where's my tracksuit for PE?' Eldest child, 'Mum where's the lead of my Ipod?' They all at various times this morning did that gormless look expecting the 'font of all finders' to spring into action. And all were disappointed. I have enough problems at the moment finding the cooker without bothering about incidentals. I shocked them all into silence with the well known phrase of 'Well it's not hanging from my lip.' Middle son entered kitchen to me telling the cats that the next person to ask me the whereabouts of articles that were not my responsibility would be shot at dawn. He looked at me , looked at the cats and decided that discretion was the better part of valour and left to look for his own school shoes. Unfortunately. It was only as he left the car to go into school where they're anal about the correct attire that I noticed the bright red Converse on his feet. I'm obviously scarier than his Head of Year.

Finishing with a quote in honour of my writing partner who has bolstered me through this week with jokes, advice and chocolate trying to get me to see sense and not to try to unpack all the boxes at once,
'The only thing that has to be finished by next Tuesday is next Monday.'

Oh and thanks to Scally who directed us to the new images - ain't they purdy?

I need a holiday – well I need to take some time off work, we’re not planning our holiday until September this year. I keep coming home from work and falling asleep for a couple of hours, I only woke up yesterday evening because Himself came in and asked me to take his car for a test drive as he was covered in oil. I could win a gold medal for sleeping at the moment - although I've never managed to drop off in my manager's office.

Himself had been outside fixing new brake pads and wanted to see if they were working correctly. Yes, a little disconcerting that one – he wanted me to test his car to see if the brakes worked. I wonder if at long last he's had enough of me? Or maybe he just thought he'd enjoy the insurance money?

Anyway they worked just fine and after he tidied up we decided to go out for a drive – ending up in Bewdley. Where we bought a portion of chips and then sat by the river to eat them, before walking through town. It was nice to get away from everyone and their demands and just spend some quality time together.

Unfortunately I had taken my camera with me – I wanted to see what sort of pictures, if any, I’d get when it was going dark. The Kodak camera just stopped working when it was twilight, unless you count a pictures of black cats in coal holes.

Blackstone Rock by the River Severn

I'll forgive her anything at the minute even her squealing about one of my finer moments in my career because she's sent me chocolate of the really dark variety. And she is telling the truth -yes folks I fell asleep with my head on desk in the office of my boss. Does life get any more embarassing than this? Well, yes actually. My boss tried to wake me with coffee - a tried and sure method usually - but this time it didn't work and he thought I was having a near death moment; honestly he did. In his defence he had spoken to me, shook me, then shouted at and shook me and I still was out of it. So he panicked and ran for help and then apparently I was surrounded by men all shaking me and shouting at me and also, so the story goes, each other.

Moral of the story is don't move house in a heat wave, have hay fever and try out a new medicine for said sneezing and itching eyes all in a matter of days.

By most peoples standards I would say I’m considered an animal lover, the blog is littered with tales of creatures that I’ve saved. But I’m afraid that last night was one paw print too far.

It’s been very warm just lately - that much so, that I’ve got the fans out of storage and have left them on at night – we can’t all have air conditioning. I’ve even got rid of the duvet and we’re just got a top sheet covering us. Which was probably why I woke up.

You know when you’re in that state of semi sleep? Not properly asleep, but still sort of vaguely aware of background noise – the sound of the fan, the dawn chorus starting up outside….the cat jumping off the bed. And a few minutes after that the strange feeling of something crawling up the sheet between me and Himself.

I didn’t register the sensation straight away, but I’ll admit that I came awake rather quickly when it eventually sank in – and just to prove that I was fully awake I shot out of bed.

To be fair, this didn’t bother the mouse in the slightest; it continued its rather shaky walk up towards the pillows. The cat had obviously been ‘playing’ with it as it was damp and in a state of shock. In fact, it was nearly as shocked as me.

The cat by the way, was sat on the window sill looking outside and when I shouted at her she shot out of the window – I think even she may have cottoned on that this time she had pushed her luck too far.

You can tell how disorientated the mouse was, it let me pick it up without trying to jump six foot in the air. It then let me carry it downstairs and even sat on my arm as I fought to unlock the front door. A quick look outside and I left it on the front step – it wasn’t there this morning, so either the cat had found it again and taken it off, or it had wandered away all by itself.

Himself of course, slept all the way through the three in a bed experience, although he wasn’t too pleased when he found out. He’s going to have to find a way of putting some mesh up to the window – because it’s too hot to keep the window closed, but even I draw the line at sharing my bed with a mouse.

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You’ll be pleased to know that Pooks managed to control herself and is not under arrest for the murder of several members of her family. She decided to try pill popping instead – she spent yesterday in a drug crazed state. Love and peace, man. You’d think she’d set a better example to her children.

Oh OK – she’s not some drug crazed addict; she had a reaction to a new antihistamine tablet and it knocked her out. It just makes me feel better knowing that someone else can out do my escapades every now and again.

And moving on very quickly before she thumps me – today’s pictures. Where did everyone go?

After much ‘shall we?’ ‘Shan’t we?’ - we at last decided to join the National Trust. For a start it was get 12 months membership for the price of 9 months, and most of the places we visit cost us £10 to get into anyway – so six visits and we'll have got our money back – and as we’re out most weekends we should in fact be well in pocket. The other point of course, maybe even more important, is that we are supporting a charity that is trying to preserve places of natural beauty and historic interest for the future. So much of English history has been lost.

Croome Park, was saved from being turned into a golf course, with the help from money from Lottery Hertiage Fund. The Court itself isn’t part of the trust, although I believe they are trying to negotiate buying some more of the land around the court, especially the Rotunda. The park was Lancelot ‘Capability’ Brown’s first complete landscape park. He worked with Scots Robert Adam and James Watt (see Soho House Blog) to produce buildings and features that still adorn the park today, some three hundred years later.

So that means you're in for yet more photos and another history lesson, aren't you lucky? No, don't answer that one! I've always found English history to be interesting, even as a child it fascinated me – I’ve said before that I spent a fair amount of my childhood wandering around the County museum. Now I can travel even further a field and visit places that I've only read about.

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The first church at Coome was mentioned in 1283, but an agreement was reached with the Bishop of Worcester and this was pulled down. The new church was designed by Brown and Adams and was dedicated in June 1763 to St Mary Magdalene. The monuments and graves from the previous church were moved to the new one.

Thomas 1st Earl of Coventry (d. 1639). To signify his position as Lord Keeper of the Seal he is shown flanked by seated figures of Justice and Vitue.

The 2nd Earls wife, Mary (d.1634). She is shown holding a baby, indicating that she died in childbirth. Two small figures at her feet probably indicated two children.

The field in front of the church was seeded with a mix of native English wildflowers and grasses.

The Temple Greenhouse was designed by Robert Adam in 1760 and housed the Earl's collection of exotic plants. In winter a fire was lit in the brick bothy at the rear and the heat was transmitted through voids in the paved floor.

The Druid was added to the park under the supervision of James Watt. It is made from Coade 'stone', a manufactured material that was formed in a mould then fired at great heat. A lot of famous English monuments were made this way.

The dry arch bridge is also decorated by coade stone river-god keystones.
Brown designed the urn as a focal point for the parkland views.

The Island Pavilion & bridges. The Pavilion contains several coade plaques, with the central one depicted in a painting that hangs in the Vatican.

The Grotto (originally adorned with semi-precious gems, which would have sparkled and shimmered) and a monument to Sabrina, Goddess of the River Severn. No, not in honour of the TV witch, but after the mythical story of the drowning of a nymph. Water was channelled to the statue through hollowed out tree trunks and would have poured out of her urn into the rock pool below.

Brown died in February 1783 on his way back from visiting the 6th Earl of Coventry at his London residence. The Earl later erected this monument to Brown, overlooking the landscape he had created.