Hey dude it's been an age!
I would fill you in on all the stuff I have been doing but quite honestly I have just been bowling along, living a life.
At the moment I am shaking my fist at the TV, it's advertising Aqua Lite shampoo from Pantene. I am often weighed down by my heavy heavy hair. Household chores are almost impossible and having a job type job totally out of the question. Clearly I need to skip down to Bootsesesss The Chemistssss to get me some of that Aqua Lite.
Friday, 20 August 2010
Monday, 15 February 2010
Nightmare......quite literally.
SoOOooo tired this morning, had an epic dream that turned nasty and kept me awake for an hour or so. Very menacing moody look about it like a Guillermo Del Toro movie.... all the stuff I own, mostly shoes, were moving towards me very slowly like they had some magnetic attraction thing going on or WERE UNDER A SPELL, cast by SOME EVIL UNSEEN THING. *shiver* Totally shit myself up.
Sunday, 7 February 2010
Too Tight
Dear Lady GaGa,
Unless you have shares in Bob's Brazilian Wax Palace please release your hoohaa from it's sequinned prison. This costume is making my eyes water. Thanks!
Wednesday, 11 November 2009
Elbow Ache
I haven't died or anything I have just been soooOoOoo busy making stuff that I haven't had a chance to do anything else. The house looks like a bomb has gone off and the children are on the brink of having to crowd around the fridge eating ham with their fingers. I also have the mother of all elbow aches, RSI or some such thing, am becoming fast addicted to paracetamol.
At least I am ok money wise which is great but doing tax returns is bollocks, I don't mind paying what I owe I just hate the admin, I will probably end up employing a pixie to do it for me. Yay!
At least I am ok money wise which is great but doing tax returns is bollocks, I don't mind paying what I owe I just hate the admin, I will probably end up employing a pixie to do it for me. Yay!
Thursday, 20 August 2009
Tipsy
'Over the road' are having a garage conversion, they have employed a guy who seems to be a bit drunk. He keeps starting up power tools, swaggering about then getting back in his van. By the time he has finished it will have cost twice as much and may not be safe. I think they need to bribe him into proper sober action, maybe with a Ginsters and some strong tea. I have told the kids to keep to this side of the cul de sac until he has gone.
Friday, 31 July 2009
Marrow
I have lots and lots of marrows, they seem to be the most successful crop so far. What can I do with all these marrows?....serious cooking suggestions only please! I have had enough of stuffed marrow in all it's different forms.
Thursday, 16 July 2009
Crikey
I guess I am getting old as I haven't stopped jawing on about how this year has flown by, I mean FLOWN by, the children will have finished another school year by Friday. That's fucking mental!
Also I have never been busier, my work is in two national mags next month and I have been preparing for the rush whilst making cakes, growing veg and reading Vogue.
I can't keep up, there aren't enough hours in the day for everything to get done. I suppose I could spend less time pondering, pontificating, reading and rearranging but then life wouldn't be as much fun.
Also I have never been busier, my work is in two national mags next month and I have been preparing for the rush whilst making cakes, growing veg and reading Vogue.
I can't keep up, there aren't enough hours in the day for everything to get done. I suppose I could spend less time pondering, pontificating, reading and rearranging but then life wouldn't be as much fun.
Friday, 3 July 2009
Wednesday, 10 June 2009
Dark and wet
AND it's thundery. I like it, cardi on, cosy inside. I am treating myself to a mammoth dvd session while I work. Oh yes it is a good day.
Monday, 18 May 2009
On the upside though
I dreamt about that I found an extra piece of garden I didn't know I had and that it had a great big greenhouse on it, I am taking this as a sign that I NEED to get a greenhouse, as my Aunty Lil would say, 'It's fate!'.
Neighbours
Sunday was crap.
Had a huge fight with the bloke who lives opposite.
He made my eldest son cry when he shouted at him. My husband went over to ask if everything was OK and could we talk about it, he had misinterpreted what had happened, my lad was demonstrating in slow motion why someone had been sent off in a footy game he had seen. He looked out the window and thought he saw my lad kicking his lad, he went off on one.
His lad even tried to tell him, he wouldn't listen and was convinced what he saw was right. He then proceeded to accuse my children of CONSTANT BULLYING and CONSTANT SWEARING ( my little one owned up to saying 'bitch' once but admitted he didn't know what it meant). We called a stop to the conversation and said we needed to go away cool off and have a proper discussion when we had all calmed down, we said that accusations of bullying were very serious and needed to be dealt with properly.
We went back to ours but he knocked on the door anyway a few minutes later....he didn't want to cool off. It all got very heated and out of hand, I became a defensive Mama Bear fishwife hybrid. I am not proud of myself. I feel shit today.
I was surprised at how defensive I got, I always thought I would be able to deal with any criticism of the children with a cool head but he was no fucking idea what he is talking about.
All the children in the Close fall out from time to time, none of them pick on each other although they are occasionally mean and argue. From what I remember that's what being a kid is like. He has no clue what they play like because he never ever comes out and sees what's going on. His kid is forever dancing about on the top of his car and sliding down the bonnet, he has accused other kids of scratching the car bonnet with footballs when his lad has just finished doing the fandango all over it.
His kid just craves attention and his weapon of choice is telling tales, he gets the most attention by getting other children into trouble. I know because I have spent years pretending to clean windows, tending my garden and literally sitting on the drive in a deck chair reading a glossy mag making sure they are all ok.
I have never been so angry, I was shaking , my mouth went dry, even my husband, who has a Yoda like calm about him, was tense to say the least.
I tried to reason with him but he was having none of it, he has my children down as evil little devils and that's all he had to say on the matter. My kids are obviously mortified, we talked a lot about bullying at home and at school and they know all the reasons why it is wrong, what to do to stop it and what to do if you are a victim of it. Kids falling out is one thing accusations of bullying is quite another fish. This guy has been in a bad mood for about five years, he regularly throws his lad out the front door and I have seen the kid wandering around the Close after 8pm (he is 6) when they seem to have forgotten to call him in for a bath.
We are lucky that we live in a plce where the children can play out safely but he is ruining it with misguided over protection and a lack of common sense. It is so difficult reasoning with someone who is so unreasonable. We already have one dodgy neighbour in the street another would just be rubbish!
I feel a little bit sick that our lovely little enclave is going to be mashed because this grumpy fucker can't rememeber what it was like being a kid, they have to learn to get along.
Policing the world from behind your net curtains does fuck all, get your arse out and take your place. If the most trouble my children ever get into is falling out over who is the better footy team and saying pishh off then I'll buy that for a dollar.
Is it too early for gin?
Had a huge fight with the bloke who lives opposite.
He made my eldest son cry when he shouted at him. My husband went over to ask if everything was OK and could we talk about it, he had misinterpreted what had happened, my lad was demonstrating in slow motion why someone had been sent off in a footy game he had seen. He looked out the window and thought he saw my lad kicking his lad, he went off on one.
His lad even tried to tell him, he wouldn't listen and was convinced what he saw was right. He then proceeded to accuse my children of CONSTANT BULLYING and CONSTANT SWEARING ( my little one owned up to saying 'bitch' once but admitted he didn't know what it meant). We called a stop to the conversation and said we needed to go away cool off and have a proper discussion when we had all calmed down, we said that accusations of bullying were very serious and needed to be dealt with properly.
We went back to ours but he knocked on the door anyway a few minutes later....he didn't want to cool off. It all got very heated and out of hand, I became a defensive Mama Bear fishwife hybrid. I am not proud of myself. I feel shit today.
I was surprised at how defensive I got, I always thought I would be able to deal with any criticism of the children with a cool head but he was no fucking idea what he is talking about.
All the children in the Close fall out from time to time, none of them pick on each other although they are occasionally mean and argue. From what I remember that's what being a kid is like. He has no clue what they play like because he never ever comes out and sees what's going on. His kid is forever dancing about on the top of his car and sliding down the bonnet, he has accused other kids of scratching the car bonnet with footballs when his lad has just finished doing the fandango all over it.
His kid just craves attention and his weapon of choice is telling tales, he gets the most attention by getting other children into trouble. I know because I have spent years pretending to clean windows, tending my garden and literally sitting on the drive in a deck chair reading a glossy mag making sure they are all ok.
I have never been so angry, I was shaking , my mouth went dry, even my husband, who has a Yoda like calm about him, was tense to say the least.
I tried to reason with him but he was having none of it, he has my children down as evil little devils and that's all he had to say on the matter. My kids are obviously mortified, we talked a lot about bullying at home and at school and they know all the reasons why it is wrong, what to do to stop it and what to do if you are a victim of it. Kids falling out is one thing accusations of bullying is quite another fish. This guy has been in a bad mood for about five years, he regularly throws his lad out the front door and I have seen the kid wandering around the Close after 8pm (he is 6) when they seem to have forgotten to call him in for a bath.
We are lucky that we live in a plce where the children can play out safely but he is ruining it with misguided over protection and a lack of common sense. It is so difficult reasoning with someone who is so unreasonable. We already have one dodgy neighbour in the street another would just be rubbish!
I feel a little bit sick that our lovely little enclave is going to be mashed because this grumpy fucker can't rememeber what it was like being a kid, they have to learn to get along.
Policing the world from behind your net curtains does fuck all, get your arse out and take your place. If the most trouble my children ever get into is falling out over who is the better footy team and saying pishh off then I'll buy that for a dollar.
Is it too early for gin?
Friday, 15 May 2009
MPs
Listen up, I don't care that it was 'within the rules'... pay for your luxury items with your substantial wages you greedy bitches and stop moaning about your job YOU CHOSE IT, fucker.
Thursday, 23 April 2009
The Good Life
So...in my quest to become Felicity Kendall I am building raised vegetable beds, when I say *I am* I mean *my long suffering husband is*. He would like to read a good book, play street football and become Slash via Guitar Hero, and he can, as soon as I have finished bossing him about and moaning about the position of the nails.
I wanted to build the whole thing out of reclaimed wood but I have discovered that the tip isn't the free for all it used to be......once it's in the skip you can't have it, you have to stalk the cars and tippers to get the rich pickings before they sling it in, and even then you have to make sure the Tip Guys don't catch you. There was no suitable wood as it turned out but I did get a 1950's dark wood sewing box on legs, a little fixer upper for £1.25, the fella said it was £2.50 but he got sick of waiting for me to fish around in my handbag for the correct change and the ice cream man was about to go... ( what ice cream man stalks the tip gates? A clever one as it happens as there is always a queue, these days the tip is a proper day out).
When we got home we were talking to The Lovely Matthew From Next Door and he gave us two sides of his old shed, perfect, we knocked the end bits together and will finish it off this weekend......I already have bell peppers nearly ready to plant out as well as salad stuff that has been growing on the kitchen window sill...I will start small and take it slow as I am a bugger for messing about with plants and being a bit chop happy. Eventually I would like year round fresh produce so I can spend less in Tesco. Hurrah!
I wanted to build the whole thing out of reclaimed wood but I have discovered that the tip isn't the free for all it used to be......once it's in the skip you can't have it, you have to stalk the cars and tippers to get the rich pickings before they sling it in, and even then you have to make sure the Tip Guys don't catch you. There was no suitable wood as it turned out but I did get a 1950's dark wood sewing box on legs, a little fixer upper for £1.25, the fella said it was £2.50 but he got sick of waiting for me to fish around in my handbag for the correct change and the ice cream man was about to go... ( what ice cream man stalks the tip gates? A clever one as it happens as there is always a queue, these days the tip is a proper day out).
When we got home we were talking to The Lovely Matthew From Next Door and he gave us two sides of his old shed, perfect, we knocked the end bits together and will finish it off this weekend......I already have bell peppers nearly ready to plant out as well as salad stuff that has been growing on the kitchen window sill...I will start small and take it slow as I am a bugger for messing about with plants and being a bit chop happy. Eventually I would like year round fresh produce so I can spend less in Tesco. Hurrah!
Wednesday, 15 April 2009
Tuesday, 7 April 2009
[------------II--] Annoyed-O-Meter
Spent all week chasing payment for works done, come on people pay ya fucking bills....have been left with just a few quid again and it's beginning to get on my tits. I offer people good deals wholesale and on commissioned stuff and they still take a bleedin age to cough up, arrrrrrghhhhh, poor blonde child has a hole in his trainers big enough to drive a relatively large Hotwheels dinky vehicle through, please don't let it rain!!!!
Tuesday, 31 March 2009
Put it away you idiot.
I lived in London for about 10 years. During that period I was a 'victim of crime' 3 times. One was official, I got a letter from the police inviting me to attend victim of crimes counselling, and the other two I didn't report.
The 'official' crime was when I got by flat burgled. I was sharing with a friend who insisted on switching all the lights off and leaving all the curtains open when we were out even though I told her a million billion times that it would be best to do the opposite....this wasn't a 'nice' neighbourhood just because it had an Islington address, we were essentially Dalston border. Any cheeky git could have a recee and bash the window in , basement flat, old vicarage, wobbly windows...we may as well have left the fucking door open. The day after Boxing day some cheeky git just had a reccee and bashed the window in, all my stuff was nicked including all my underwear and pj's my, cds jewellery, what wasn't nicked was wrecked. It was carnage. Interestingly her room was so messy that they couldn't, or didn't want to try to find anything of value. That'll teach me to be neat and have matching bras and pants.
The other two crimes were less material and more... shall we say... *sexual* or at the very least a bit Carry On. The first took place at Waterloo Station, I was on the train and this pin stripe suited fellow got on and sat opposite, He had a broad sheet that he was reading.....so far so normal. Then he started flicking the edge of the paper trying to attract my attention. I of course ignored him and tried to get back to my book. He became very insistent. I pointedly didn't look up, he became more insistent so with a sigh I looked up to see that under the paper he had his cock out....poking through his trousers. In what I can only describe as a cat like lightening quick reflex, I stood up, pointed and shouted at the top of my voice,'That man has he PENIS out'!!!!!!
The whole , quite packed by now, carriage turned round and he got up and ran off the train with his nob still flapping about. I think my use of the word 'penis' gave my retaliation a more grown up flavour adding to his humiliation.
The other non crime was also a flashing but took place in West Hampstead tube station. I was going to Waitrose in St John's Wood for our groceries, I had moved into a flat with my new boyfriend and future husband, living like kings on two fat wages. We had taken a flat in West Hampstead probably the most expensive place I have ever rented ( although the one we had in Dublin was pretty fucking expensive for an ex council flat, Celtic tiger greed). Anyhoo, I got on the train which was quite full and this bloke got on and stood in front of me and the lady sitting next to me....the train sat there for a bit and he got off although he didn't leave the platform he just stood with his back to us in one of the side tunnels. The train continued to sit there and this bloke was still in the tunnel although now his arm was moving about a bit....he caught the attention of the lady sitting next to me and we both commented on his odd behaviour...then all of a sudden, he turned round and started waving his nob up and down at us. He wasn't wanking off just flapping it about, maybe he couldn't get hard or something but it was the most bizarre thing I have ever seen, it was quite big so he had a lot to work with. He continued to waggle it up and down until the train eventually pulled out of the station.
The 'Lady Sitting Next To Me' commented that you don't get many of those to the pound and we laughed and laughed all the way to Waitrose.
The 'official' crime was when I got by flat burgled. I was sharing with a friend who insisted on switching all the lights off and leaving all the curtains open when we were out even though I told her a million billion times that it would be best to do the opposite....this wasn't a 'nice' neighbourhood just because it had an Islington address, we were essentially Dalston border. Any cheeky git could have a recee and bash the window in , basement flat, old vicarage, wobbly windows...we may as well have left the fucking door open. The day after Boxing day some cheeky git just had a reccee and bashed the window in, all my stuff was nicked including all my underwear and pj's my, cds jewellery, what wasn't nicked was wrecked. It was carnage. Interestingly her room was so messy that they couldn't, or didn't want to try to find anything of value. That'll teach me to be neat and have matching bras and pants.
The other two crimes were less material and more... shall we say... *sexual* or at the very least a bit Carry On. The first took place at Waterloo Station, I was on the train and this pin stripe suited fellow got on and sat opposite, He had a broad sheet that he was reading.....so far so normal. Then he started flicking the edge of the paper trying to attract my attention. I of course ignored him and tried to get back to my book. He became very insistent. I pointedly didn't look up, he became more insistent so with a sigh I looked up to see that under the paper he had his cock out....poking through his trousers. In what I can only describe as a cat like lightening quick reflex, I stood up, pointed and shouted at the top of my voice,'That man has he PENIS out'!!!!!!
The whole , quite packed by now, carriage turned round and he got up and ran off the train with his nob still flapping about. I think my use of the word 'penis' gave my retaliation a more grown up flavour adding to his humiliation.
The other non crime was also a flashing but took place in West Hampstead tube station. I was going to Waitrose in St John's Wood for our groceries, I had moved into a flat with my new boyfriend and future husband, living like kings on two fat wages. We had taken a flat in West Hampstead probably the most expensive place I have ever rented ( although the one we had in Dublin was pretty fucking expensive for an ex council flat, Celtic tiger greed). Anyhoo, I got on the train which was quite full and this bloke got on and stood in front of me and the lady sitting next to me....the train sat there for a bit and he got off although he didn't leave the platform he just stood with his back to us in one of the side tunnels. The train continued to sit there and this bloke was still in the tunnel although now his arm was moving about a bit....he caught the attention of the lady sitting next to me and we both commented on his odd behaviour...then all of a sudden, he turned round and started waving his nob up and down at us. He wasn't wanking off just flapping it about, maybe he couldn't get hard or something but it was the most bizarre thing I have ever seen, it was quite big so he had a lot to work with. He continued to waggle it up and down until the train eventually pulled out of the station.
The 'Lady Sitting Next To Me' commented that you don't get many of those to the pound and we laughed and laughed all the way to Waitrose.
Thursday, 19 March 2009
Small Victories
Days like today are awesome, the small things make all the random annoying shit melt away.
I had a great phone call with the hideously incompetent Natwest mortgage people were I had the woman on the phone grovelling for forgiveness. Every single time something changes with our mortgage deal we have to chase them up, many times they haven't scrolled down the screen to get the full picture of our history or current deal and things have gone tits up. I don't like to leave things stationary, if there is a better deal I run towards it hoping to pull back that few pence which makes getting through the month easier. This kind of deal tango seems to befuddle Natwest leaving it running round after it's own tail like a dopey puppy. They sigh with distress when they read the details on their screens, admitting that yes they do have a record of the deal they set up ...and no they didn't put it into place at the agreed time. I didn't push it or become difficult but the apology made me feel all smiley.
THEN I went to get bread from the supermarket and whilst walking through the carpark thought about what to get eldest brunette child for his birthday.....I started to browse the toy section and came upon a Rey Mysterio WWE figure at a knockdown price of £4.97. I think wrestling is a great big bunch of old shite but let the little fella have the toys because he is brilliant at school, polite, cheeky but with a cute edge, generous to his little brother and makes me laugh everyday. I will never understand the attraction but all his friends like it, he likes it and who am I to deny such a lovely kid this one small vice. He has wanted this figure for 18 months and it would have been worth it at double the price.
THEN I found a fiver in the side pocket of a bag I hadn't used for ages and decided to treat myself to a iced latte from Costa, the woman made it just how I like it and they had Nick Cave playing on the stereo....sometime things fall nicely into place and you cruise through the day on a cloud of Yoda like calmness......I think I might get me a lottery ticket.
I had a great phone call with the hideously incompetent Natwest mortgage people were I had the woman on the phone grovelling for forgiveness. Every single time something changes with our mortgage deal we have to chase them up, many times they haven't scrolled down the screen to get the full picture of our history or current deal and things have gone tits up. I don't like to leave things stationary, if there is a better deal I run towards it hoping to pull back that few pence which makes getting through the month easier. This kind of deal tango seems to befuddle Natwest leaving it running round after it's own tail like a dopey puppy. They sigh with distress when they read the details on their screens, admitting that yes they do have a record of the deal they set up ...and no they didn't put it into place at the agreed time. I didn't push it or become difficult but the apology made me feel all smiley.
THEN I went to get bread from the supermarket and whilst walking through the carpark thought about what to get eldest brunette child for his birthday.....I started to browse the toy section and came upon a Rey Mysterio WWE figure at a knockdown price of £4.97. I think wrestling is a great big bunch of old shite but let the little fella have the toys because he is brilliant at school, polite, cheeky but with a cute edge, generous to his little brother and makes me laugh everyday. I will never understand the attraction but all his friends like it, he likes it and who am I to deny such a lovely kid this one small vice. He has wanted this figure for 18 months and it would have been worth it at double the price.
THEN I found a fiver in the side pocket of a bag I hadn't used for ages and decided to treat myself to a iced latte from Costa, the woman made it just how I like it and they had Nick Cave playing on the stereo....sometime things fall nicely into place and you cruise through the day on a cloud of Yoda like calmness......I think I might get me a lottery ticket.
Wednesday, 18 March 2009
Old Job
When I moved to London back in the early 1990's I took a Christmas temp job in a record shop. I was deciding what I really wanted to do.
I kind of knew what I really wanted to do but had yet to make it happen. I wanted to either make stuff or be Quincy. Being Quincy was off the table on account of not bothering to go to university to study forensics. Making stuff was great but paid badly and I still had to buy electricity and food so I thought working in a record shop would be fun.
It was.
Also, being in the West End I got to see famous people shopping for records. We didn't get as many famous people as our big shop up the road but we got our fair share, mostly old duffers like Ken Livingston or show people like Michael Ball.
I served...........
Stephen Hawking....he bought Tracy Chapman 'Greatest Hits'......he didn't 'speak' but did look at my boobs and drool... although the drooling might have been coincidental.
Princess Diana.....she was with a bodyguard and bought the soundtrack to 'Indecent Proposal' and Abba 'Gold'...she wore a lot of blue mascara and leaned on the counter.
Pat Cash......can't remember what he bought but it was in the first part of the A-Z so was probably Beach Boys 'Pet Sounds' or something by Ginger Baker. He had a HUGE ruby cross in his ear... was buff and ripped.
Michael Parkinson....he browsed the classical section then went upstairs to the dvds so I didn't see what he actually bought BUT he was proper stylish and smart in an understated but wealthy way, very polite.
Jools Holland used to come in a lot, he had cute kids and always checked to see what cd's of his we had in stock.
There was nothing I enjoyed more at the time than walking the A-Z, doing orders, putting stock back in place, seeing what was missing from the back catalogue and generally just getting lost in it all. I didn't care to much for the retail aspect but always respected the customers even if they did buy some right old shite.
When I am in a record shop now I find it hard not to tidy up as I browse.
I kind of knew what I really wanted to do but had yet to make it happen. I wanted to either make stuff or be Quincy. Being Quincy was off the table on account of not bothering to go to university to study forensics. Making stuff was great but paid badly and I still had to buy electricity and food so I thought working in a record shop would be fun.
It was.
Also, being in the West End I got to see famous people shopping for records. We didn't get as many famous people as our big shop up the road but we got our fair share, mostly old duffers like Ken Livingston or show people like Michael Ball.
I served...........
Stephen Hawking....he bought Tracy Chapman 'Greatest Hits'......he didn't 'speak' but did look at my boobs and drool... although the drooling might have been coincidental.
Princess Diana.....she was with a bodyguard and bought the soundtrack to 'Indecent Proposal' and Abba 'Gold'...she wore a lot of blue mascara and leaned on the counter.
Pat Cash......can't remember what he bought but it was in the first part of the A-Z so was probably Beach Boys 'Pet Sounds' or something by Ginger Baker. He had a HUGE ruby cross in his ear... was buff and ripped.
Michael Parkinson....he browsed the classical section then went upstairs to the dvds so I didn't see what he actually bought BUT he was proper stylish and smart in an understated but wealthy way, very polite.
Jools Holland used to come in a lot, he had cute kids and always checked to see what cd's of his we had in stock.
There was nothing I enjoyed more at the time than walking the A-Z, doing orders, putting stock back in place, seeing what was missing from the back catalogue and generally just getting lost in it all. I didn't care to much for the retail aspect but always respected the customers even if they did buy some right old shite.
When I am in a record shop now I find it hard not to tidy up as I browse.
Best job in the world
This week I have watched two series of The West Wing on DVD whilst finishing a huge stitched sampler for an American customer. The sampler is almost traditional in so much as the alphabet is replaced by sweary words and the pictures are of nudey pinups, daggers and roses like old time tattoos. For this I will be paid enough to buy groceries for a while, some shoes for the small blonde child and some footy boots for the taller brunette child. I might even be able to squeeze a few cinema trips and the odd *nice* bottle of red instead of the discount price Ribena we've been drinking of late.
Friday, 27 February 2009
I may increase my risk of cancer...
.....but I will continue to enjoy lovely lovely wine....everyday.
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