Bonne Nuit to Another Year

I'm sitting here, sooty, within the dying embers of another year.  This one has been challenging with brief moments of happiness and chasms of despair.  You have to wonder what next year will hold.  Being ever optimistic, you have to hope for the best and you have to hope for happiness. 

It's weird Col to think that you're already into the coming year with me trailing hours behind.

I'll be heading out just before midnight bearing the usual coal, silver, salt and bread.  Coal so that I'll always have warmth, bread so that I'll never be hungry, salt for flavour in life and silver for prosperity.  This magical bundle is supposed to be carried over the threshold by a dark haired man, but as I'll be spending New Year's Eve alone, I will have to be good enough.  While it seems remarkably silly to most, I'd feel odd not doing this little ritual, it's all I've ever known, so for at least one more year...

Happy New Year xx

Bedknobs and Broomsticks

The first film I remember seeing was in infant school, I could have been anything from four to ten but I think I was probably five or six when I sat in the assembly hall, legs crossed, staring through the darkness at the projector screen to watch... "Bedknobs and Broomsticks". 

This afternoon, I sat and watched it again.  It was the underwater sequence that I remember the most and it's decades since I've sat and watched the whole thing through and I had totally forgotten that the amazing Angela Lansbury and David Tomlinson star.  Admittedly, it's a little psychedelic in places, but it was the 70's, so you have to forgive.  With a supporting part, is national treasure, Sir Bruce Forsyth, until very recently, the King of Strictly over here, also, the amazing Mr Roddy McDowell.  It must be mind blowing to see your professional life archived in technicolour... and in black and white.

Today is the eve of New Year's Eve, I rose, had coffee in my weekend Starbucks haunt, had a brief jaunt around some of the sales, picked up some ingredients and headed home to make chicken soup and re-start the de-cluttering.  I really feel that by this time next year, I may have nothing to do ;)

This afternoon, while I sorted, I've watched "Scrooged", again, for probably the fifth time this December, one of my all time favourites, gotta love Bill Murray, then "A Christmas Carol", the animated Jim Carrey version, God Bless Dickens.

I note that the nights are at last drawing out, I'll still be returning home in the dark once I'm back to work, but at least I have the promise that Spring is on it's way.

What did you achieve?

I read an article this week in Stylist magazine which got me thinking about what I had achieved this year.  Trust me, I had to think long and hard but this is what I came up with, and for the record, maybe we should all do this, every year...

I mastered Excel, or as much as I needed to anyway, I went from 2% expertise to 100%, I've spoken to old friends who've said, Excel, I love Excel, what's the problem?  But can you concatenate? I ask.  The reply is usually.... What?

After eleven years of vowing to declutter, this year, I have achieved more than in the previous ten.  I think that by next Christmas, I'll be micro organised, I'm so proud of myself.  You know how disorganised I am Col, I hope that you're proud of me too.

I have exercised.  I could have been more consistent but I have worked out, at least most weekends and I've tried new things, yoga, tabata, I love them both.

I have eaten healthily, 80% of the time.  I get jokes and jibes at work over my daily, enormous salad based lunch, but I shrug it off, I know that I'm doing okay, more than okay actually.

I've taken control of my alcoholic beverages.  As I've got older, I realised that I can no longer tolerate alcohol as much I used to.  I was always striving to take the healthy high road... except for when it came to alcohol.  I love wine.  I enjoy a glass of wine but it got to become a habit, good day, (infrequent) bad day, (frequent) need to relax, (always) need to drown sorrows, (often) want to forget, (more often than not)   Thanks to an Ailsa Frank CD, I'm sleeping soundly for the first time in years, and I'm alcohol free for 5 days out of 7.  This is a major achievement for me, for the past few months, I've thought that this may be what would eventually kill me.

I spent a year in the company of someone who seems to like me, just the way I am.  He makes me laugh, he makes me feel wanted, he gets upset, even angry, on my behalf.  The achievement in this is that I let him in, and while I probably should have driven him away... I didn't.  Whatever happens in the future, he will always have a place in my heart, a soft spot.

I survived a year in work.  My job is repetitive, pressurised and totally unsung.  In a department of pressure and praise, I am always overlooked, which doesn't do this Leo's ego any favours.  Still, a year and a few wobbles later, I'm still there.

My darling brother in law gifted me his old android phone when he upgraded.  This was a major upgrade from old texty only phone, held together with cellotape, which I adored.  Over a two week period, I almost pitched the new phone out of any open window due to sheer frustration but, in the end, and after hours of pouring over an online manual, I got to grips and I can at least text, phone and take pics on the new phone now.  I am such a Luddite and the phone initially only served to remind me of how alone I am as I had no one to help me figure everything out, but I got there in the end.

I uploaded details of my Grandad James Williams into a WW1 project website.  We never got to meet, but I love him very much and I'm so proud of him.  I can't wait for the day when we do get to meet.

The people I've held so tightly, I've learned to... hold less tightly.  Not that I love them any less, it's just that I don't have the energy to hold them so tightly anymore, and maybe, I wasn't doing them any favours by holding them so tight.  What will be, will be.

I'll probably be back to update this as and when I remember my achievements x

Time for Tree

Yesterday, I had my annual Bridget Jones moment, it's something I both look forward to, and dread at the same time.  Yes, choosing a Christmas tree, as a singleton, alone, in the rain... has to be one of the most depressing chores in the entire world. 

We occasionally had a real tree when I was little, I distinctly remember the falling needles and baldness by Christmas but then, we mostly had a fake, I'm sorry... artificial tree, which I loved. 

Things changed one year, just before Christmas and that first year, I couldn't bring myself to have a tree, I think I compromised because I had company and bought a one foot high tiny conifer and stuck it on top of the TV, undressed.  It was green and it was Christmas tree shaped, it was the best I could do.

Since then, I have progressed and bought a real tree every year, one of the fir variety.  I've chosen it myself, usually alone and in the rain, and God it's depressing.  This year, I aimed to get a fake tree, but the ones that I like, are really expensive and suddenly, the cost of a real tree, isn't so bad.  Also, I heard on the radio that they are a sustainable crop, so I'm not totally infringing on the planet.

Yesterday morning started out cold but dry.  After my usual Starbucks, I headed to the cash machine for my tree money, and the heavens opened.  The cold but blue skies turned to grey and wet.  I retrieved my money and took shelter, yards from my car but the rain was coming down like rods, for seconds and then it turned into hail, tiny weeny, bouncy ping pong balls of ice.

That's about right, I'm not dressed for cold or torrential at the moment, nevertheless, I will be Christmas tree shopping on the way home.

By the time I drive to the Garden Centre, the one I go to every year to choose my tree, rain and hail has cleared and we actually have a powder blue sky.

I find somewhere to park right near the door and enter into tree world.  I hate choosing.  I need one to fit the space I have, for the right price, preferably without a herd of couples also choosing at the same time, I just want it to be over.

I enter into the forest and there is another lone woman wandering around, I give her a smile and a nod, she's probably going home to a husband and family but you never know, she may be doing her Bridget Jones thing too.  Us gals have to stick together.

I quickly refresh my memory with the tree tags, some are blue, some are stripey, some are orange.  I think they signify species and price, I suss out that I need stripey, that would give me the cheapest, (not so cheap,) and height wise, what I'm looking for and also species, I love a Nordmann fir, they smell divine and are pretty hardy, hardly any needle drop.

I pick up one tree after another by it's pointy top, but here's the thing; you can't get perspective when you're on your own.  You can't hold a tree up and back away from it to get a good look, all while there is just you.  Now for the  embarrassing bit.  You have to wander into the main area and say, 'excuse me, could I borrow someone to hold up a tree?'

The owner, for yet another year, comes out with me.  I've narrowed it down to two!  One is already in a planter, the other needs a hand, this is my fastest year on record. 

The nice owner explains that every tree has a front and a back, due to the prevailing winds and well, just nature really.  We all know how that goes don't we?  I'm no stranger to the prevailing winds myself.

So he spins them both, one at a time, before me are twirling Christmas trees, it's a sight to behold.  The one that was the best shape for my space was a little too... hit by the prevailing winds, so I instantly chose the other one, which is a little fat, sorry, full at the bottom.  Full it may be, but I do I do love it, every inch of it was worth the angst.

Grey Area

I've just watched the latest episode of Grey's Anatomy, as you know, one of my all time, favourite TV Series, and in this episode, Ellis Grey's journals, may hold the key, they may be able to unlock information, for both Meredith and for another.  Ellis Grey is Meredith's Mother and passed away a few years ago leaving Meredith, among other things, a legacy of Alzheimer's and the life of a surgeon.

My Mum was also a writer, she wrote diaries, journals, for... I haven't actually counted but I'm guessing over fifty years.  She showed me this wonderful box one day, it was an ordinary, cardboard box,  but it was filled with time, with stories, with her words.  'When I'm gone, promise me you'll burn these.'  At this point I think she may have continued to say... 'without reading them.'  But I'm not certain, my memory is conveniently blurred.

I couldn't bring myself to destroy them, let alone to burn them.  To me, the written word is precious, I don't care what state it's in, if the grammar is correct, if the spelling is spot on, those words are from the heart.

A few months ago, I can't remember how it came up, but I was discussing Mum's journals with my cousin Lyn.  'Read them.'   What!?  Really, not what I expected my cousin to say.  'Read them.'

Does she have a point?  What the heck is in there?  There is so much that I don't know.  I do know that my Mum had a hard life, I do know that I was a late arrival and must have been quite a shock.  I do know that against the odds, she decided to keep me, no matter what, no matter how I turned out.

Is there anything I could read that I'd rather I hadn't?  Is there anything I could read that would make me feel differently about her? 

I think I should read on.

11.11.2014

Today is Armistice Day and my heart is poppy shaped.  Thankfully, my Grandad made it back from WWI, wounded and hospitalised for a year, but he made it back, almost in one piece, and a few years later, my Mum was born. 

My life's tapestry, is so intrinsically and painstakingly stitched to lives so far removed from my own.  I was raised, remembering, for which I'm very thankful for, my Mum made sure of that.  This year is the 100th anniversary of the outbreak of WWI. 

This week, a young, 13 year old Army Cadet placed the 888,246th and last poppy in the Tower of London art installation.  Never before has history been so eloquently visualised.  I think of all of the boys and men, who never came home and I wonder about the sons, daughters, grandchildren, who were never to be, on all sides... depleted generations.  I remember, and I will always remember.

Pregnant.... Pause

I have always wanted kids, or at least.. kid.  A few years ago, a trusted, psychic told me... (I realise I sound insane, but you know that I only visit psychics sporadically and those that are without doubt the real deal, and, it is of course, for entertainment purposes only.)  Well, Ivy, who over the years, has told me only things that me and my late Mum would have known, once told me to; 'be careful you're not like you're Mum.' 

What Ivy meant was that my Mum found herself pregnant, with me, at the age of 45, she was 46 when I was born. 

While I was horrified at the thought of being pregnant, for the first time, at that 'great' age, quite frankly, at any age, I would have been horrified even if I'd been happily married for ten years and still only about thirtyish.  But, at the same time, and I know it's easy for me to say, but I think I would have been a good Mum, terrified, but, good, well, passable, let's just say that I don't think I would have dropped them on their heads.

This year, my 44th heading, head long into my 45th year, has passed by at warp speed, time was truly running out.

One of my best, 40ish friends, who has never come across as remotely maternal announced on our latest coffee date, that she is pregnant.

I am both stunned and overjoyed for her, simultaneously.  I am so, so, so, happy for my friend and her partner but at the same time, it felt like... it felt like in the midst of the heat wave we were having, that I'd been hit in the face with a snow ball.  Stuns, stings for a second, snow falls away and you're fine, almost.

Have you seen the Sex and the City film, the original?  Carrie phones Samantha to announce that she's getting married to Big and Samantha is curt with her.  Then Samantha phones Carrie back to apologise, she was stunned and had her in a compartment, the, 'we are never getting married' compartment, and now Samantha will have to re-file her friend.

Well, that's kind of how I felt with my lovely friend.  I had my friend in a file, the, 'we are never having kids file' and now, I have to re-file her, not only that, but for the best part, I'll lose her, because that's what happens.  I am more than happy to lose my friend, for this wonderful cause though.

I just think, that my friend's story, is a fairy tale and it's the best news I've had, all year.

I have consoled myself with alcohol and of course, I've gained weight, which makes me wonder, am I pregnant and now, do I need to worry about foetal alcohol syndrome.  Wouldn't it be ironic?  I am of course being horribly unfunny,  but you get my drift.

I'm OK, I started writing this a good few weeks ago, I have processed the; 'I am never having kids' scenario and while I still feel a loss, well, God knows better, just wasn't meant to be for me, this time around.

Winds of Change

Hurricane Gonzalo, originated in the Caribbean and blew over to Europe, causing havoc with my journey home.  On Tuesday, a 35 minute drive at best turned into 2 hours 15 minutes in gales with driving rain, road closures, very wobbly, insane cyclists to look out for. I was exhausted by the time I eventually got home, buy mostly, just glad that I made it home safely.

On Wednesday, I watched the last interview with one of our best loved actresses.  I suspect that Lynda Bellingham strongly disliked being best known for being 'The Oxo Mum'.  For about sixteen years, the Oxo family advert ran, it was a little glimpse into a family I never had and just, so normal, so reassuring, so fictitious.  Still, that advert bled into our hearts, just like the way that Christmas does.

So, Ms Bellingham is... Mother Christmas, all warm and fuzzy in my heart, part of my upbringing,  part of my social history, part of my reference material.  She was also a wonderful actress I might add.  Still, whether she would loathe it or not, Oxo Mum she is to me, with a very fond place in my heart.  Ms Bellingham was diagnosed with cancer just over a year ago and she sadly died this week.  The saddest part of the interview was that she was so funny and vibrant...still.  The interview was taped about two weeks away from when she was to leave us, she talked so fondly of Christmas and the plans that she had for next Christmas, just a few weeks away. 

I laughed and cried through the interview.  That night, I dreamt that I was given three months to live.  It's either a premonition or a by product of watching the interview.

The dream was very real, I mean, that it seemed real, with no hint of a dream.  I woke and had to think about reality versus the mighty Morpheus, for too long, seconds, but too long.  For a nano second, I thought about having just three months left to live.

I have to say that it was an eye opener.  In the past twelve months, I have wondered about not being around, just ceasing to be, I have to say that it seemed inviting.  Faced with the 'reality', such as it was, of being told that I only had three months left on planet Earth, my feelings notably shifted.

Down and Out?

I've been a tad down for, oh, well, if you add this to that to the other... probably upwards of ten months, what the hell, let's call it a year.  I know, I know, but we all get down sometimes and speaking for myself, I'm a certified 'Weeble', I may wobble, but I always get back up.  Still, I'm always reading articles that tell me, 'don't ignore' symptoms, and so...

'So what's been going on?' My doctor is five minutes late for my appointment but I appreciate the cut-to-the-chase when she does arrive.  Several minutes later, she's given my the log in code for a   download that she's given me... three times before so far, it's a 'relaxation' download. 

I love my doctor, she's not quick to reach for a script, to dish out medication willy nilly, but when you actually think there may be something, some kind of an imbalance, hormones awry, thyroid awol... a download isn't going to determine that, is it?

It's been four weeks since my doctor's appointment, I haven't 'downloaded' yet, I've decided to up the exercise and bury my head, as per usual.

This last week in work was just awful.  I made a mistake, a human and honest mistake and after meeting with our Information Assurance Manager, was told that it was a mistake just waiting to happen.   Doesn't make me feel any better and my already severely dodgy sleep pattern has been even more eroded by the worry of it all.  Several days in, I have to remind myself that I am a very small cog in a very large wheel, or... something like that.  Do I wish that I could turn back time?  Don't we all wish we were Cher?  But, there is only one Cher and so I have to deal with the fallout, what will be, will be.  To be honest, I blame Mercury, apparently it's in retrograde or some such pickle and it's causing havoc with communication, and so you see, it really wasn't my fault. 

Back to the sleep and I figured out a while ago that my body works best on 8 hours per night, I know that that's a lot but what can you do?  Currently, I'm surviving on about 4 hours max.  It's a horrible habit I've got myself into and I don't know how to escape it.  Ideas?

More Bernard

Do you remember me telling you about my psychic Bernard?  I've seen him a few times over the years, he can describe me like he's known me all of my life, warts and all, which is why I feel the need to claim him as mine.

This time, the reading is over the phone which, on the plus side, means that he doesn't get go comment on how, judging by how my hands look, I've been around for 400 years.  So funny because, I feel like I'm 400 years old.

For the non believers, how can someone with this gift, tell you almost the exact same thing about yourself, every time they speak to you?  There is no way on earth, that anyone's memory is that good.

So here we go, a run down of what Bernard told me this time:

I feel a desperate need to Spring Clean everything just now, even though it's not Spring
I want to get rid of anything I don't need, and that includes people
I have a sign on my forehead saying; 'can I help you?' (he's told me that several times before,) but all I want to do is tell these people to 'get lost' at the moment.  You just don't have the energy.
(All of the above is true.)
I need a day to relax, if I'm not able to swim, maybe go somewhere and sit by water (I love to be near water.)
Bernard sees a rainbow.  Rainbows are apparently lucky, they appear after a storm.  I need to 'let go' of past events and not try to go back and attempt to fix them.
I'm strong, intelligent, not scary looking
I have OCD (True, true, true, true, true ....)
I have a memory like an elephant yet forget the simplest thing
I am super organised, make endless lists yet forget where I parked at the supermarket (He is so freaky.)
If anyone does anything for me, to help me, they do it wrong, (they really do, it's not just me being me.)
I attract people with problems
I'm with the right person, but we're not together (True, true, true)
I won't want to hear this but there may be a new relationship with someone new, very soon
My life is never simple
He sees two houses, two sets of keys, maybe I'm house sitting?
My property is changing (I need to declutter and do a million jobs)
You like cooking, you're good at it, but you're too tired at present
There is a business opportunity or something new coming on the job front, give it a go
I'm good at organising people, especially men (what do I do with that?)
Promotion or something new on the job front in the next few weeks, not something I apply for
I always do the work of two people
Don't trawl the internet for a relationship, these relationships are not real, no good for me (as I suspected)
You attract people who don't make an effort
You want someone who puts you first
Someone around you, an 'S' likes you
By 21st September, I'll hear about a new job.... (not going to happen as don't return to work until 29th)
By the end of October, I'll be doing something new

Having a conversation with Bernard is comforting because I know that I don't have to pretend anything.  I can't, he'll see right through it.

Interesting, intriguing and comforting, all at the same time.

Seizure

It's eleven weeks since my last physio appointment with my miracle worker Vicki.  'How have you been?'  Quite frankly, I've been stiff and stiffening on a daily basis for the past, well, feels like a million weeks.  I sprained my ankle, (for no reason really, no dramatic trip, fall, just a twinge after a jog, which turned into pain and an enormous, elephantesque swollen ankle, for weeks on end.)

And so, I didn't, couldn't jog for weeks, then when I might have been able to, it was only two or three weeks before the wedding and I couldn't risk having an enormous ankle and being unable to get the fabulous, nude, patent leather, sling back heels on to go with the dress I'd decided on.  So I didn't jog for another few weeks.  As well as not jogging, I also got out of the habit of doing my daily little stretches.  Well, it all added up and conspired against me.  All contributed to seize me up, good style.

Vicki, bless her cotton socks, managed to stretch out my 30 minute appointment to 40 minutes.  Can't tell you how grateful I was or how sore I was afterwards, for at least 3 days, it was probably 4 days if I'm being honest.  It's the sorest I have ever been following a physio session and it was like looking into the future, if I don't do my part, look where it will get me.

Looks like I need to 'embrace' working out, once more.

Asylum Seeker

This week, I watched a TV programme about asylums in England, in the 19th and early 20th century.  This got me thinking about my Great Grandmother Hannah, who died in an asylum in 1923, as far as I know.  The story goes that she was admitted with 'milk fever' following the birth of my Grandfather James.  Now, I assumed that this meant, somehow, Hannah had developed some kind of infection shortly after the birth, which had given her fever, hallucinations, who knows what?  People were committed to asylums for all kinds of reasons at the time, reasons which, these days, are totally treatable, in a non committal way. 

Reasons for admission to a lunatic asylum were; (seriously;) asthma, female disease (?) time of life (?) woman trouble (?) novel reading (really?), menstrual deranged, marriage of son, egotism, epileptic fits, kicked in the head by a horse, laziness, business trouble, immoral life, mental excitement, parents were cousins, grief, snuff eating for 2 years, desertion by husband, feebleness of intellect.

Judging by the descriptions, you had one foot in an asylum if you were female.

Need I go on? Are we agreed that we would all be in there for one reason or another, be it kicked in the head by a horse, parents were cousins, or menstrual derangement, who hasn't been there?

I've searched for 'milk fever' and the entry I found related to a person drinking infected milk.  We'll never know I guess, or at least, we won't know until more records are accessible online.

So far, my cousin Lyn has managed to pinpoint Hannah on the 1891 census, classed as a 'lunatic' and living in an asylum.  I feel quite sad at the thought of her being incarcerated there and I can't imagine  that she had many visitors.  Nor can I imagine being locked away from anyone and everyone I know and love.  My Grandfather James was the youngest, so she was separated from her children, plural.

I've visited Hannah's grave many times since I was very small but I'm ashamed to say that I never really gave her much thought.  Still, even without the full story, I have a  new respect for her.  I was told that she, Hannah, had 'milk fever', that Grandad, her son had visited her, and that she died in an asylum in 1923.  Hannah must have been around 60 years of age when she died and while I have quite a few missing puzzle pieces, it's looking like she spent half of her life within an asylum. 

Ironically, Hannah died the very same year as her husband, after all those years apart, and they are buried together.

I would love, one day to investigate Hannah's story and fill in all of the blanks, piecing together her life. 

The next time I visit Hannah's grave, I will take flowers, especially for her.  Without her, there would be no James, without James, there would be no Dorothy, and without Dorothy, there would be no...

Birthday

Yes, it's that time again already and as you know, another birthday has rolled around again, seemingly less than twelve months since the last one.  I received several text messages with warm greetings, one of which advised that I share my birthday with; Usain Bolt, Kim Catrall and Kenny Rogers.  What can I say? Athletic Super Hero, Goddess, Heroine and SATC stalwart, Legend.  Good company huh?

So I took myself off for a coffee and a chill first thing this morning, oh, I should say that yesterday, I treated myself, (I say treated myself but it was free, nevertheless, a treat,) of a hand and arm massage with the very handsome Michael at Jo Malone.  With strict orders to stay away from anything sweet, we chose together a ginger and something concoction which was gorgeous.

Back to the day itself and my coffee was lovely and low key, didn't mention it was my birthday, you know I hate fuss.  Returned home and within half an hour, one of my sisters had arrived with a lovely plant, shopping voucher and bottle of wine.  We left to pick up another sister then headed out for lunch at a nearby pub, one you and I have been to a few times in fact.  I was aiming for a light lunch as I'm out later with another sister at Wagamama's, my favourite.

Lunch was lovely, I asked lots of questions and the conversation flowed, food was nice, as was the large glass of wine I had and I didn't feel overly stuffed by the end... in preparation for Wagamama's.

The three of us descended back to sister's for coffee and more chat which revolved around what great age I am, (I'm rolling my eyes right now,) followed by a lengthy chat about.... euthanasia.  I'm not kidding.  Not that it's not an emotive subject, not that I don't  have thoughts and feelings about the subject, and you can call me a prima donna, but I just don't think euthanasia is a happy birthday subject.  After a while, one of my sister's noticed I was abstaining from the conversation and promptly changed the subject. 

After a little while longer, I'm deposited at home and within an hour, I'm being picked up again and Jan and I are off to W's.  I could honestly eat there every day.

If you remember, the seating arrangements are that the tables are long with benches and they seat, I'm guessing six to ten people.  Jan and I are seated next to the wall, which I like.  Our gorgeous waiter, looks like front man Ricky from the Kaiser Chiefs, who I have a soft spot for anyway, and now I have one for my, sorry, our waiter.

Jan and I have a variety of starters, including lollipop prawns, edamame and duck gyoza, followed by mains of yaki soba, (we always have yaki soba and it's always delicious.)

Jan has desert and I have my customary glass of wine in lieu of desert plus a flash of that dazzling smile from our waiter. 

Jan drops me off at home and I throw myself into the bathroom for a quick shower, I then proceed to make my bed, for some ridiculous reason, I decided to start my housekeeping a day early and stripped my bed when I got up this morning, I totally failed to factor in that it was probably the one day in the year I could give myself the day off and that if I didn't remake my bed before the festivities, I may be slightly tipsy from a little merry making to commemorate the occasion, by the time I got home.

Anyway, within 30 minutes, I'm taking to you, an almost perfect end to an almost perfect day but after I'd spoken to you, my cousin Lyn phoned me for my final birthday phone call of a long, but lovely day.  I'm tired, but can't believe the day is over.  Another year has begun.

Wedding Day

So it's wedding day.  First family wedding for a few years and my cousin PQ's big day.  As you know, my family isn't exactly harmonious so I've been half dreading this day and it's really taken the shine off the build up.  All I can do is remain...'Switzerland', (neutral) and hope for the best.  I've set my alarm for 7am but I'm wide awake at 6 so I rise for a decent cup of coffee, or as decent as I have in anyway.

My appointment to have my hair put up is at 8.45, I arrive ten minutes early and my hairdresser hasn't arrived yet. 

When she does arrive, I show her the picture on my camera of how her colleague put it up for me for the last wedding I attended.  I loved it and felt amazing with that 'do'.  'You don't want it like that, it's softer now', (says the colleague who put it up for me last time.)  Why do they do that?  If I went in to to the hairdressers and said, 'I'd like a skinhead please.'  I can understand they may say, well I don't actually think that would suit you.  But if I want my hair up in a certain way... the way they did it before, a really classic and lovely way, why can't I have that?

Anyway, it was fine, not totally happy with it but it was OK.  Really need to learn how to do myself though, it cost and arm and a leg.

I got home at 9.30am from the hairdressers and we were aiming to leave at 10, I still had my nails to do, finish my make-up and to dress and check overnight bag.

I spent most of the hour long journey to the church in silence, I was just tense about what may occur, whilst hoping for the best.

The church was beautiful, old, small, intimate, full of character.  There really aren't that many of us but we filled the space, it couldn't have been more perfect.

I thought I was tough enough to withstand the service.  I've been to several cousin's weddings, one nephew's wedding and several friends, plus two sister's.  So I thought that I was tear-proof, experienced enough to make it through the service, but I did almost lose it.  Within a very traditional service, the love between PQ and K was palpable and very touching. 

With the formalities over, the bride and groom exited the church and so did the rest of us, within five minutes, the heavens had opened and my giant brolly had me, two of my grown up cousins and a baby cousin sheltered beneath it.  After a few minutes longer, with the wind picking up, we all retreated back inside the church to shelter and where, happily, tea, coffee and biscuits had been laid on. 

So the bride, unbeknownst to us had arrived by Ferrari, driven by proud Dad.  After a few photos, in between showers, the bride and groom left by said Ferrari.  It was amazing, seeing them drive off in that amazing car with the traditional tin cans tried to the back with string. 

The day was long, but in a good way.  We chatted, mingled, ate, had a little wine, it was a perfect day.

I caught up with my cousin's, some of whom I haven't seen for a few years, and it was just lovely.  At 1.15am, we all toddled off to bed.  Another occasion, another moment in time.

Gorgeousness Personified

I have been ogling this gorgeous burnt orange dress from Warehouse which is just stunning.  It looks like a Victoria Beckham style, if you can remember one of her first collections.  Sleeveless, mid calf, pencil skirt, fitted bodice with delicate pleating detail close to the high neck and a stunning, crossover at the back which leaves your mid back to waist level exposed.  I've been eyeing it up for days, every time I walked past the shop on my hunt for earrings for the wedding, I'd look longingly at it.

After my coffee-through-a-straw, I wandered a little, I didn't feel too bad, bit of a headache but starting to thaw.  After looking around the sales in a few shops, I headed into, "the" shop, and there it was, looking gorgeous.

I had to try it on didn't I?  It took a bit of patience getting into it with the crisscrossing going across the back, had my hand through the wrong hole a couple of times.  When I did get it on, adjusted and smoothed down.  Wow. 

Before you get excited, it didn't quite fit, it wasn't too far off but my bum was just too big for the pencil skirt, only just too big I should add and what didn't enhance it was the fact that I was wearing lace kickers, so I additionally looked like I had the worst, cellulite ridden backside you've ever seen in your life.  (Desperately wanted to explain orange peel effect to shop assistant but decided against it in the end and tried not to turn all the way around while I was looking at myself in the mirror.)

If I lost a few lbs and wore the right underwear, it would look amazing, I may end up getting it just to admire and not even wear... ever.  That would be just fine, it's so gorgeous.

Root Canal

Did I tell you that I needed a root canal?  Well I've needed one since, well, I was told I needed one in June and my appointment was finally this morning.  As petrified as I am, I just couldn't wait to go this morning and I arrived twenty minutes early, I just wanted to get it done.  Yes, I need a root canal but I need to get rid of the abscess that I've been carting around for weeks, even more.

The appointment was at my usual place but I had never seen this dentist before, he was lovely, talked ten to the dozen and sounded just like 'Fronk' from "Father of the Bride".  It was so distracting but in a really great way, beneath the rubber damn thingummy stretched across my mouth, I was often trying not to smile, he wasn't even joking, I just couldn't stop thinking about Fronk as he chatted away.

A couple of hours later, I'm sipping coffee through a straw, feeling a bit tingly and still numb, but not too bad.  It's only half done, unsurprisingly, there is quite a bit of infection so we, Fronk and I, need to see if it settles before the final filling goes in.  I return to Fronk in a few weeks, fingers crossed it's good enough for the wedding next week, for now, I'm wearing some kind of medicated temporary ensemble.

Changable

Well, I've had a great weekend, you know the kind where you breeze through tons of chores in the blink of an eye?  I'm feeling very proud of myself.

This place is about 90% 'cleansed' and clutter free and it's true what they say, getting rid of the clutter, cleanses the mind, I feel great.

Saturday was hot and made the chores hard going but today, Sunday is much cooler, there is a welcome breeze flowing through this place and it feels just lovely.


                                                                           *****


Weather has taken a distinctly downward turn but I'm quite happy about that.  Sunshine is lovely, mega heat is uncomfortable and brings one sleepless night after another.

So it's now the following weekend, I can't believe how these weeks are flying by.  Weather remained cooler and changeable but I've managed to dodge the rain for the most part.

We entered August this week... can't believe it, which means my cousin's wedding is only days away now.  I had a coffee date on Thursday for a couple of hours and it was lovely to chat and to listen.  It was around 7pm when I was heading home and I was starving and so diverted to the best 'chippy' in town for chips and gravy, (I've been craving it for days now.)  Walking down the road I see a biker on a bench eating chips.  'You don't recognise me do you?'  Why do people keep saying this to me? 

A few minutes later, I've seen past the biker jacket and the blacker than black sunglasses, and it's my sister's neighbour, who I've known for about twenty years, and who gave me a poppy plant this year.

I actually get to enter the chippy and seconds later, one of our old customers comes in and gives me a kiss on the cheek.  It was lovely to see him and I was picturing his wife the whole time, such a lovely couple, (could I remember the name?  I did, but only several hours later.)

Friday and I reluctantly get myself roped into selling cakes for a local charity, not that I don't support the project but I was just hoping, to blitz the pile of post on my desk.  Instead, I had a blast reliving colleagues of their hard earned £'s for the sake of some fancy lbs disguised as cupcakes, carrot cake, lemon drizzle and such like.

I finish work for the day and for the third time this week, I head for the supermarket to pick up the fizzy water I like, (they've been out of it the previous two evenings I've called in.)  I'd only just set foot into the store when I eye up one of my sister's checking out some discounted chocolate.  It's lovely to see her, we're not... not speaking, we just don't speak much, or see each other very often.  And so we exchanged warm hugs and kisses, she looks amazing, (I hope I look as good as she does in sixteen years.)

I've heard stories over the years that my sister wasn't too keen on my arrival but thinking about it now, at the age of sixteen, no, she probably didn't herald my arrival.  The story also goes that on my arrival from hospital, aged... hours, our Mum handed me to my (thankfully non sociopath,) sister and left us to go into the kitchen.  My sister fell instantly in love with me, (of course,) and Mum, cried.

It was so great to see her.  I have time off work in September and by then, she should have some free time and so we've pencilled each other in for a proper catch up. 

Another Week

So another week is over.  These weeks are flying by and while I have much to look forward to; my cousin's wedding, my long awaited two weeks off work and my root canal, (I'm serious, cannot wait to get it done,) they are flying by at an alarming rate and at such a pace that each evening, I feel more shattered than the last. 

We are well and truly in summer Col, one afternoon this week, driving home from work, my car temp gauge registered 32 degrees, which as you well know, is hot hot hot, for here.  Despite the air con in work, I feel drained by the time I have driven home.   It's supposed to be cooler next week and to be honest, I'll be happy to sleep soundly again.

Abscess, as you can probably gather is worse, only two weeks to go until my appointment at the dentist, ankle is tons better, (did I tell you I sprained it?) it's pathetically weak though and the slightest anomaly, uneven curb, pot hole, cobble stones... sends twinges up my leg.

Today I've had a day off, gosh it was much needed, I've been tired this week but what time did I wake up?  Yep, only 10 minutes after my usual time, I was awake at 5:05.  However, I've had a really lovely day off, I had a leisurely first part of the morning, I downloaded another workout to try, put a wash load in, watched a bit of Desperate Housewives, showered and had fruit toast for breakfast.  Jan arrived at 9.40am and we headed off to Chester.  It's years since I've been there and it's so close, still, off we headed.  We had a tight schedule as Jan has a wedding to attend tomorrow and she needed to have a lazy-ish day today.

We kicked off with coffee and a catch up, have to say I mostly listened but it was lovely.  We then hit a few shops and were very disciplined heading in and aiming for just the things on our lists.

Top of my list was lace to add to my possible facinator for Philip and Kate's wedding, (I say possible as it's a toss up between the new one, purchased in the sale, and the old one... the one I had for Donna's wedding which also goes perfectly with my dress... except I'm still deciding between two dresses.)

We arrived back at mine, Jan tried on her two possibilities for Philip's wedding and for the wedding she's attending tomorrow and I gave me seal of approval and offered my opinion on which dress for which wedding.

After Jan left, I grabbed a quick water then headed out to do some chores but it was lovely to just browse, hitting the shops I usually don't have time for and to pick up a few things I've been looking for to help me get organised. 

I'm feeling lucky and so I've bought a lottery ticket for tonight and one for tomorrow night so you'd better make up my bed ;)  Jupiter or... some other planet is in my... something, which is bringing tremendous luck, I swear I can feel it.

Hair is ridiculously long, OK, not Elle Macpherson long but long enough for me that I can't do anything with it other than pile it up and hope it stays.  I'm on the hunt for a new style but with my hair, not sure what else I could have?

Are you watching the Commonwealth Games?  I usually loathe opening ceremonies but I have to say that I think that Glasgow got it mostly spot on, the most entertaining opening ceremony I've managed to sit through for a while.  Thought all the artists were great, loved the flash mob effect, adored the Scottie dogs leading out the teams, where else would you get that?

My laptop is heating up beyond safe parameters so I'm going to post and sign off.  I will be back soon x

AWOL

Hi Sweetie,
Sorry I'm more AWOL than not just now.  This is turning out to be a year of challenges and discovery.  I'll probably go into more detail at a later date but for now, I'm still at this end, among other things... three weeks into a sprained ankle and a root canal which is currently in the guise of an abscess.  I showed the abscess to one friend today and she almost passed out, I thought it was looking better. 

I'm fine, just feel a bit battered and reeling from some recent realisations.  Time is a ticking. 

Anyway, I'm OK, just feel a little like hibernating for the time being.  I have a few high points on the horizon though to look forward to, my cousin Philip marries the lovely Kate on the 14th August, I have a couple of weeks off work to look forward to in September and the lovely Sheila has a big birthday, also in September, she's having a big party and I'm invited, so I'm looking forward to that.

I manage the odd 'funny' in work but other than that, I'm really not feeling my usual self at the moment so have to apologise for the lack of humour just now.  I know that my funny bone is not dead, it's just sprained.

Back soon.

Love you x

Work Hard for a Living?

So, a psychic told me many years ago that I would never be rich and I would always need to work two jobs.  It's been a few years since I worked a full time and a part time job, but I think the time has come for me to find a new, part time job. 

I've been deluged with bills and expenditure these past few weeks, root canal here, road tax there, prescriptions, medication, wedding, birthdays, car repairs.  The list is endless and the bills are mounting.

After a medium sized melt down, (a few sleepless nights and many tears,) I've come to a conclusion.  No, it won't fix immediate and pressing problem (or probably save tooth,) but I'm thinking long term.

For a while now, I have had this nagging feeling that time is running out.  (If I stop posting altogether then you'll know that it eventually really did run out.)  I'm now thinking if I do get a new second job, to go along side the full time job, then I can clear my mortgage, make all necessary improvements, make unnecessary improvements, (decor etc.) take holidays (to you mainly,) visit my friends down south more often and who knows what else?

At the moment, I'm working to pay bills, that's all.  And then... at times like this, the bills aren't even covered.

I believe that you get several attempts at this life, to learn lessons, to attempt to get it right, to be a fully formed soul.  I've always felt like an old soul and then one day, many moons ago, I purchased an astrological reading which, if you believe it, I was told that I had been here many times before and that this journey would be one of my last, I am an old soul.  We can believe what we like,  but that information feels true.

I have had many instances before this to know that I felt like I had been here before, a combination of deja vu and a smart mouth, smart beyond my years.  (Can you imagine a smart, worldly wise mouth on a child?)

So what if this is one of my last journeys?  I would like to be able to live in a place that I love, within calm and serene surroundings, to visit those places on my bucket list and to be surrounded by or at least, be able to visit those people that I adore.

I'm not asking for fast cars, fancy houses or priceless trinkets.  I don't think that I'm asking for too much, do you?

Blue

Hi Sweetie.  Your out-of-the-blue phone call last night cheered me up no end, although I had to try hard all the way through our long conversation, not to cry.  I was happy, emotional, and I miss you.

I can't tell you how happy it made me to hear your voice, (even though the line wasn't great,) and to talk to you, I know you moved years ago but I still miss you so much.

Anyway, not that I wasn't happy to hear from you or that I don't miss you horribly, but I'm additionally, so emotional at the moment and I have no idea why.  I thought I was ready for a break and just overtired but after a week off work, my first break since Christmas, I'm slightly less tired but still really emotional, about everything, and anything.

Films, TV, music, photographs, adverts, comments, clothing, you name it, everywhere I look, everywhere I am seems to remind me of some of the saddest moments of my life.  Things I haven't thought about for years play out in my head like a scene from a film.  I can be driving along in the sunshine with only my sunglasses to hide the tears.

I've started jogging again in the hope of lifting my spirits.  Nine out of the last ten days, I've jogged (slash) run 2km in 20 minutes, I just need to keep it up when I get back to work.  I know that it's hard after an early start, a long day, a two hour drive and more often than not; nausea, to then get home, get changed, lace up the trainers and 'just do it.'  The last time I visited my GP, about said tum, conversation moved to my BP meds and she questioned if I was; 'still exercising?'  You know that I  can't lie.  'I did today!  But...'  'I know, your stomach has been bad recently.'  The Doctor filled in the blanks and what she said was true but the bigger truth is that I haven't jogged consistently for a while and my, as I like to call her, 'hippy dippy doctor,' is all about the yoga pose to cure a bad back... which she will demonstrate.  I am of course affectionately teasing, you know that I'm a big believer in keeping yourself healthy and doing what you can to help yourself and keep yourself well.  (Although that hasn't stopped me cursing her in the past when I felt like I was made of iron and fused at every joint and I was in total agony and I just needed drugs... what I got was a pose to try.  Time and a place people.)

I've listened to a lot of music while I've been off and isn't it amazing how great music can make you feel?  I'm listening to a documentary; 'Coldplay Live 2012' as I write.  'Viva la Vida' has just started, I just want to get up and dance or run.  I've  headed for my regular Starbucks every morning while I've been off and the soundtrack they've played all week has 'Kiss Me' playing right at the beginning.  Makes me smile, and sing along each time.  Thank God for music.

God the Coldplay 'wrist band' thing on the documentary has now made me well up.  I am a lost cause.

And now 'Fix You' which I remember playing in the car, with you, on the way home from Sue's Hen Night.  I'm gone.

Love you x

Blurred Dreams

Last night, I dreamt that a school friend of mine, was alive and well, her Grandma was there as was her close friend, who was once the girlfriend of my current... friend.

My school friend died of breast cancer, about fifteen years ago.  I have no idea why she came to me in my dreams, but you know me Col, I don't believe in coincidences and I am desperately trying to connect the dots.  My friend was only here a short while but made a lasting impression and left two, beautiful children in this world.  Meeting her daughter last year for the first time, stopped me in my tracks.  She is the beautiful, spitting image of her Mother.

I have no idea what message I was supposed to receive, so I'm opting for the obvious, that life is too short.

In the words of Conchita Wurst, my current heroine; "you just get one life you know, and you'd better make it fabulous."

Water Water Everywhere

Everything in my place is wearing out, that includes me incidentally, won't subject you to the gory details.  On a less gory note, managed to resurrect my vacuum yesterday.  Following 'burny' smell, and after checking usual filter, did a little more digging (through the dust) and unearthed a 'secret compartment' and discovered a whole host of dust in there, maybe why it hasn't been picking up recently?  After cleaning out 'secret compartment' it picked up a treat.

On Friday, I stripped my bed and stuck a wash load in, when then cycle finished, the bedding was dripping wet.  Two spin cycles later, it was still as wet and after my success with the vacuum, I set about reading the instruction manual for the washing machine.  Undid the lint catcher thingummy and it was fine, apart from the now blackened twenty pence piece I found in there.  Next, I had to check the pipes at the back of the machine, machine was off at the wall and so I undid one of the pipes, water immediately came out. 

At first I thought it was just water in the pipe, but then it gushed, stone cold water pumping out of this pipe.  I head for the stopcock  but it won't turn, I try WD40 and rubber gloves for extra grip, it won't turn.  I'm not known for my upper body strength so I knock for the two male neighbours that I know... no answer. 

After 45 minutes of cold water gushing from this pipe and my water meter counter going into overdrive, I manage to get hold of Bee, just back from church.

In about fifteen minutes, Bee's at mine and unable to to turn the stopcock also, she manages to turn it off at the wall, something I did try but coudn't manage.

I am soaked, clothes, hair, everything.  The fingers on my right hand, thumb, fleshy part under the thumb, are all red and swollen from attempting to turn the stopcock with all of my mite.  My left arm, 4" up from my wrist then upwards to my elbow is swollen and bruised and hot from it being scraped against the shelf while I tried to turn off the stopcock.  The kitchen is strewn with saturated towels.

If I'm a singleton then fine, if I have to be self sufficient, self reliant... fine, but I really hate being defeated by things like a stupid stopcock.

God knows how much all of that lost water will cost me, it'll probably take me a year to pay it off, but you learn from your mistakes right?

Note to self... find someone to loosen stopcock before next water disaster.

The Long, Short Week

We had a holiday on Monday but this four day week, as is the case with "short" weeks, seemed relentless, mostly due to the cold and bug I had which had taken up residence in my body, starting Monday night... just in time for work.  Thought I was having an adverse reaction to eating close to my body weight in chocolate, but I think it was a bug.

Still, it's now Saturday and I'm over the worst of it, not felt great today but I think that may be hay fever?  I haven't exercised in over a week but can't seem to motivate myself at the moment.

So the great de-clutter continues, and I can't believe how much stuff I have discarded, you would be proud of me Col.  One caveat is that it is very easy to make decisions about my own stuff, literally, a second or two, the items, letters, mementos I have inherited is trickier and takes.... years sometimes, and the fact that it's already ten years plus, doesn't make it any easier.

I love this time of year, the weather isn't great, I think it's about 13 today and wet and windy, and while I'm not particularly warm, it's warm enough so that the heat doesn't come on and I can open my patio door and let fresh air in for the first time in probably six or seven months.  It's now 21:30 and my patio door is still open, despite the rain, after the winter, this place needs a good airing.

Sunday and we have some sunshine, not particularly warm sunshine, don't think my towels on the line will dry but at least they're having a blow.  I'm still sneezing frequently so I'm still thinking hay fever.

I'm sorting and organising and generally loitering while I await Bee's arrival.  I've had a little scrambled egg and so far, it's stayed put.

So it's two weeks since I started to write this particular entry, it's another holiday weekend here and I still feel awful.  Managed to get a Dr's appointment but it's three weeks away.  My latest thinking is some kind of sudden onset food intolerance, I feel terrible.

We're already into May and in my part of the world at least, it's still not particularly warm, it's fairly dry but cold, May is usually quite warm as I remember, I could really do with some warmth.

Easter 2014

Hi Sweetie,

It's Easter weekend and I'm so thankful for the long weekend.  I have felt OK but really lacking in energy all week, I feel like I limped to the finish line yesterday.  I totalled nine hours of much needed sleep last night and while my body didn't spring out of bed, I do feel better for the sleep.

After a quick coffee this morning, I came home to continue the sorting and de-cluttering, the rest of this place is looking a bit more untidy, but ironically, that's what happens when you sort.  I know that I'll reach a point when I am both organised and tidy... simultaneously.

Dinner with the girls on Monday was lovely if brief, not everyone could make it, and with Tuesday being my most pressured work day, I needed to get away early, still, it was good to see everyone that was there.

Easter Saturday was bright if cold and Bee and I went for a walk around Ness Gardens, it was unusually busy but still relatively quiet, the gardens are huge so it was busier than normal but that doesn't mean much in the grand scheme of things.

Easter Sunday was freezing cold, I had a quick coffee, pretty much everywhere is closed so I headed straight to Bee's, she was at church and left me one and a half sides of A4, instructing me on how to bring the roast dinner together.  I admit, I freaked at first then took it one step at a time; take lamb out and use skewer to check juices, if clear, take out, if not, put back in for 15, once you take lamb out, put on clean plate and cover with new foil to rest, move shelf up a notch, spray one cal onto roasting tin and put parsnips in, turn heat up by one.  Fifteen minutes later, put carrot and turnip on.... and so on.  I like to think I contributed at least 50% and Bee brought it together beautifully once she got back, it was delish and she seemed buoyed by the Easter Sunday service too at this new (to her) church she was trying out, so it was win win.

Spent about three hours with Bee and it was lovely and relaxing and lunch was lovely, even if I do say so myself.

Easter Monday is by stark contrast, warm and sunny.  Do feel like I'm getting pneumonia after yesterday, at the very least, a slight sniffle, my neck is stiff, I'm achy and I have sniffles, I'll take some meds and hopefully knock it out.

So Bee has arrived at noonish to garden for me, really don't know what I'd do without her, meanwhile I'm ironing and sorting.

Good Friday and I had reached my lowest weight for a while prior to the chocolate weekend, I freely admit that I have indulged, didn't want to be rude to the Easter Bunny however I'm confident that this "Clean and Lean" approach will have me back on the right track within a week.  I really do feel great.

Happy Easter Sweetie, hope you've had a great one x

I Survived... (Work, Birthday, Cystitis, Toothache)

In case you were wondering, I survived the week in work.  Charmed the Observers, nailed the reports.  It gave me such a boost, I can't tell you.  Wednesday, Mum's birthday, was OK, she was never far from my thoughts but then, she never is.  On the plus side, for the first time, I didn't dissolve into tears or alcohol, so I'm actually making some progress, finally.

De-cluttering continues and I'm still fired up about it.  I'm on such a roll at the moment, it's easy to make decisions, where once I would have pondered for a month, now it takes me two seconds to make a decision.  I'm sure I'll eventually reach items which mean more which will take me longer to decide on their fate, but I think the trick is to make quick progress on the easy stuff.

So this week, I had a coffee date on Thursday, two hours of lovely chat and catching up.  Next Monday, I'm out with the girls.  It will be great to see them but I have an early start for work on Tuesday so I won't be staying long unfortunately.

Count yourself lucky that I'm here at all, I thought my laptop was dead and gone three days ago.  I'm sure it's nearing the end of it's functionality but I need to keep it going for as long as possible.  With much patience and lots of deleting... I'm here, for how long, who knows?

Been thinking about you a lot, I hope you and yours are all doing well.  I'll be back soon x

Feeling Good

It's Saturday 5th and woke up feeling amazing, am-a-Zing.  I got nine hours sleep last night but apart from that, (and mild cystitis,) I feel great.  It could be a combination of things, I'm on the Clean & Lean "diet" as I told you, but I've never eaten more.  I measured out of curiosity and I've lost an inch from my waist and one from my hips, I'm chuffed.

Work wasn't terrible, next week has the potential to be terrible.  I'm flying solo for the first time since I joined the department 5 months ago, up to this point, I have never done everything, on my own, in the time scales they need doing within.  I've always had my buddy to back me up so far.  However, buddy is on leave for the next two weeks.  On top of the pressure of flying solo for the first time, on the most crucial day, I have "observers," two, one of which is one tough cookie who manages to find fault at the very best of times.  Still, I'm going to use all of my charms during the easy part and when it comes to the reporting, I'm aiming to nail it.  I've prepped everything I possibly can ready for Tuesday and Wednesday and I'm just going to have to remind myself... to breathe, throughout... it'll be fine, it'll be fine, it'll be fine.

Next week is Mum's birthday and for the first time in ten years, I'll be working.  I think it's a blessing that this job is all consuming at times and I know on Wednesday, I'll be so busy in work, I won't have time to think... much.

I'm currently addicted to two TV shows, "Hoarders" and "Hoarding: Buried Alive."  You know I never got to this stage but I've always been messy and disorganised, but, these programmes inspire me.  I've been doing just 10 minutes in the morning and 10 minutes every evening and I'm de-cluttering like a maniac.  I think it may be a combination of applying the "Clean & Lean" not just to my diet but to my living space too, maybe that's what's making me feel so good at the moment.

So, we're in BST however we've had blanket white cloud for days now, a combination of weather conditions has deposited dust from the Sahara can you believe? All over the UK, even over my car.  I must admit, I had my doubts until I returned to my car after a day in work to find it covered in deep red dust.

I had physio on Thursday and I'm now only attending every ten weeks.  I'm so much better than I was when I started to go 18 months ago, the difference is remarkable and while I think I will always need a "tune up" a few times in a year, it's well worth the money for the appointment and the work I do in between appointments.

More good news, and I think this is a byproduct of the "Clean & Lean" diet, I felt a bit funny last weekend and so checked my blood pressure.  I've been on blood pressure meds for high blood pressure since last October.  I decided I should check it as hadn't checked for a while, and it was super low... for me, 101/57, low for me, on a good day was around 145/90, if I was lucky.  After several phone calls, (I couldn't get an appointment with my Doctor for a month,) I finally got to speak to her over the phone and she advised me to halve my meds, take readings for two weeks then phone back.

Impressive huh?  I have a lot to feel good about.

To Be Brief

Brief update of recent events, thoughts, happenings;

"Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason;" love Renee, Colin, Hugh, terrible film, best thing about film is the soundtrack... performances aside.

Whatever happens, don't forget to breathe.

Terrible news about L'Wren Scott.

Sad about G and CM, but if any couple can make post marriage work, it has to be them.

"True Detectives" TV Drama; it's like watching a Masterclass, truly, wonderful television, you feel privileged to watch.

Jackson and April 4 eva

Sandra Bullock is a Goddess and a genius, whatever the mood, Sandy can keep you company.

I'm organising like I'm being paid to do it.  I have thirteen drawers in my bedroom and each one is now like a shot from "Sleeping with the Enemy".  Very proud of myself.  (Did it with football face while I had time to spare and wanted to do something both gentle and quiet.)

I'm missing trees, 5000 trees are gone in our town, I love trees.

Today is the first day of BST, 2014, so glad to welcome British Summer Time.

Today is Mother's Day over here and yes, it does get easier.  As I write, she's looking at me from a photo, and beaming that smile, still miss her terribly.

Sore and Swollen

I have Monday and Tuesday off this week.  I sleep great on Sunday night but wake to find face even more swollen.  Mouth is about the same, painful, face is the size and shape of a football... big and round.  Tuesday I wake to find face more swollen again, after a phone call to the dentist and a phone call to the doctor's surgery, they want to see me and I'm given one of the emergency appointments. 

We need to fast forward so that I don't bore you to sleep, but after one visit to the GP, three visits to the dentist, eleven days of antibiotics and two days of sick leave, my face is now the shape of my face and my gums are inflammation free.  I haven't had a day off sick in four years but this one beat me and I had to concede.

On the bright side, I'm sticking like glue to "Clean and Lean" and it seems to be working for me, all of the foods agree with me, I'm eating better than I ever have done before, all of the foods are satisfying and I think I look healthier, oh, and bonus features, the cellulite I have on my behind is down around 75% and... I lost 4lbs in a week.  There's always a bright side ;) x

Finally

I'm now sitting with a wine and soda, slowly sipping and wondering, then, suddenly, it's as though someone has switched the lights on.  The windows high above me are filled with white, bright light, the sun is shining through.

It's 3.15pm and at last, I am seated on a plane, in 17D, with a free seat next to me no less.  It's been a long day so far but at least I'm now on my way.

I landed at 4.30pm, and I was collected shortly afterwards.  It was lovely to see my friends and I was just grateful to have made it after all. 

Thursday evening, JR and I had a leisurely catch up and a nice dinner.  Friday, just after a lovely lunch at the Duke of Cambridge pub, with three of my friends... plus baby, my mouth started to hurt, a lot.  Had an idyllic afternoon, (apart from the pain emanating from my mouth,) playing with the kids, chatting and bouncing on the trampoline with A, haven't been on a trampoline since I was a kid and it was a lot of fun, although A kept wanting to hold my hand while we bounced up and down and I kept shooing him over to the other side of the tramp... just in case I accidentally landed on the little guy. JR and I eventually headed home, it was late and I went straight to bed but only managed around 3 hours sleep due to the pain, and woke with a swollen face and pulsating gums.

It didn't spoil the weekend but it was pretty painful, and I could have done without it... It was so great to spend time with my friends, plus new puppy... Poppy.  Poppy, a miniature Schnauzer... chosen on Armistice Day, is playful and inquisitive and joyous, and we got along great. 

We didn't actually do much of any excitement but we had a couple of nice lunches in sunshine and a visit to the harbour.  It was nice to sit around, catching up and enjoying the change of scenery and the company of good people.

All too soon, it's Sunday, 5.45pm and I'm sitting in the airport bar, writing, with a large Chardonnay and soda after having a sun drenched, wonderful weekend.

Food wise, the weekend wasn't terrible but I feel bloated and puffy and I'm going to be super good over the next few days so that I can feel confident and "un-puffy" in the very near future.

Needless to say, my flight is delayed coming home, our plane is coming in from Geneva but it's running late.  Seems to be a theme this weekend.

Duty Free

Needless to say that my "Clean and Lean" venture has totally gone out of the window today, I feel sluggish and I'm only one slice of spelt toast and a BLT off the radar.  Going to feel enormous by the time I get home, which is still, currently, only 40 minutes away.

So, back to fog watch.  The fog now, really does appear to be lifting, so, in a while, after 8 hours at the airport, I may finally be on a plane, to go on holiday.  I didn't plan to spend the majority of Day One at the airport, however, for as long as I can remember, my holiday begins... when I get to the airport... good save.

The only worry, (in my current, Terminal 3 shaped world,) is that the next flight to Heathrow has been cancelled, maybe the fog has relocated, what if it's engulfing my destination?

I have my iPod with me but I don't want to miss any announcements or drain it's tiny battery before I even leave the airport, really could do with some good music just now, music soothes the soul.

I had intended to treat myself to a new lipstick, gloss or some such prettiness at the airport, however, post cancellation... I lost the will to shop. 

It's now 13.35 and almost 6 hours into my Terminal holiday.  In an hour or so, I should have a gate to go to.  Really long day so far.

On my seventieth trip around duty free, to kill time, I spied something to pull me out of my buying drought and a slight case of the doldrums.  I'm a sucker for lip balm, as you probably remember, and I spy something that is relatively cheap and didn't even know existed...

Please be upstanding for Elizabeth Arden, Eight Hour... Lip Balm.  I was introduced to Elizabeth Arden Eight Hour Cream by my Auntie Nella, about thirty-five years ago.  (I am Auntie Nella's niece by default, not like she had a choice.)

Anyway, Auntie Nella came over from NZ when I was really young, my Mum's sister-in-law for about thirty years by this point, not my direct Auntie you understand but she got me anyway, think of me as a bonus.

Auntie Nella was an Elizabeth Arden beauty consultant for Choyce Miller in NZ and I would bet a darn good one too, she was a formidable lady.  So... it was Auntie Nella who brought with and bestowed upon my Mum, a solitary tube of Eight Hour Cream on that visit that I remember like yesterday.  That tube must have lasted for twenty years, it was like gold dust and we used it sparingly but use it we did, on bites, burns, bee stings, blisters.  It really is a wonder cream and now, there is a variation in lip balm, could it get any better? 

So I'm giving the lip balm a go.  I heard they had released a lovely new night cream, Eight Hour with Lavender, two of my favourite things, in reality, it's a car crash, I tried a tiny bit at a department store recently and I will not be buying.  However, the Eight Hour scent is as recognisable as the tube, so I'm giving the lip balm a go, for old times sake.

Happy to report that lip balm is lovely and lustrous and shiny, it's beautiful and moisturising and comforting, like... favourite socks.. without the moisturising of course.

Wanderings

I'm now giving some thought to my cousin's wedding in August and my outfit for the occasion.  (I know, random, but let's face, I have time to let my mind wander.)

I actually bought a dress, (which so far, I feel pretty confident that I'll still wear,) about 18 months before my cousin even got engaged.  I just knew an engagement would be on the cards sooner or later, and I loved this dress as soon as I saw it, it was pretty, classic, "weddingy" and in the sale, too good an opportunity to leave on the rail... and I love it.

Unless something else catches my eye, this is the one.  It's blue, (two shades,) sleeveless, high necked, floaty, voluminous, below the knee in length and best of all... it has pockets, which are concealed.  I have no idea why I love this aspect, I just think it's a magical bonus.

I have nude, patent leather, (very comfortable,) 5" slingbacks which I will probably wear.  (They probably sound like stripper shoes but trust me, they're very elegant.)  So my attention has turned to hat and hair.  It costs a fortune to have your hair "put up" here, but it's a must, it's August so it'll be hot and my frizzy hair has no choice but to be wrangled into something tidy and classic.

I won't be wearing a hat but I'm thinking flower, headband, some kind of fascinator.  What do you think?

I've drawn a picture... we'll see if I can upload it shall we? 

Can I just tell you that Mr James, was my favourite teacher and I only got an "A" in art, because of him, he was however, the first to acknowledge that I cannot draw.  RIP Mr James, such a wonderful teacher.

The Dress... kind of, use your imagination.

Sandwiches?

I had my breakfast around 6am and it's now 11.10am, I'm not hungry, but I am wondering if I should maybe get a sandwich, purely because I'm bored.  I'm currently camped out in a cafe/bar with a soda water with a slice of lemon bobbing on the surface... and a straw, because I am on my holidays.  I'm facing the windows and while it's still foggy, I've just seen one small plane take off and I haven't heard of any further cancellations.  Fog still looks pretty thick though.

It's now 12.20, thank God I have my journal and a magazine to keep me occupied.  After much roaming around the Terminal shops and lounges and waiting areas, I have checked out every sandwich in Terminal 3 and I concede that I am pretty underwhelmed by the choices available.  In the absence of anything I fancy, I've plumped for a BLT in Costa.  Fog started to lift, but it now looks as bad as it did at 8am.  It'll be another two hours at least before I know if my next scheduled flight will go ahead.  Supposed to be brilliant sunshine at my destination... if I ever get there.

My long weekend break hasn't quite started how I expected it to, but hopefully, I'll still get to my friends at some point, today.  If the 3.35 is cancelled, I think there is still one more flight this evening, on which to pin my hopes.

Note to self, pack ham, salad sandwiches in future... just in case.

Fog Shmog

So I've had my flight changed, I have checked in, again and I'm now being directed to security, again.  The guards apologise when the gate won't accept my boarding card but I can't go through security for 30 minutes, I'm too early.  I head for a coffee, which I don't really want and I'm now, boiling hot. 

After gingerly juggling handbag, case on wheels and my tray with coffee on it, I sit at a table near a French Mother, Son and Grandmother and a larger party containing US and English, I'm assuming, family members, one of the English women has the dirtiest laugh I've ever heard and she somehow manages to cheer me up.

Thirty minutes later, with coffee gone and Bazaar magazine with SJP on the front skimmed through, I head for security again.  "I've already done this once" I tell the nice security man as I place my belongings into two trays, I'm hoping to distract him so that my innocent boots don't have to be removed this time.  It worked and I sail through the detectors.

The tray containing my jacket, scarf and handbag, does not sail through and is side tracked to be double checked, should have taken the boots off, it's karma, and can I just point out that it was fine 90 minutes ago.  I'm now standing to the side, with five other people, the woman behind me is with her husband, she must be late 50's, and looks totally innocent, she is mildly worried, "what have I left in my bag?" 

Eventually, the two tourists in front of me, after having a very lengthy conversation about the pots of jam in their bag, agree to bin the jam.  "Who's bag is this?" I hold up my hand and smile broadly.  "You have liquids in your bag madam."  "Do I?"  I delve in, it's quite a big bag and it can contain innumerable items.  I instantly find my Carmex lip balm.  "There is something else madam,"  Oh God, what is in here?  I delve to the very bottom and find a tiny bottle of hand sanitising gel.  "There is something else madam."  What?  There can't be.  I rummage around the bottom of the bag and pull out two inhalers.  The guard looks like he's lost the will to live, "that'll do madam."  Guard gives me a plastic baggie to put my hand gel and lip balm into and waves me off.  I think he decided I was innocent in the end, let's face it, I don't look dangerous do I?  Several days later, I find a couple of dried out mascaras... at the bottom of my bag.

The idea of catching the early flight this time, was to give me an extra full day of my hols, but, God has other plans, and for some reason, God wants me to spend several hours in Terminal 3.

Best Laid Plans

It's March 13th and the fog is pretty bad driving to the airport.  Bee deposits me at Terminal 3 and I make my way to departures to print out my boarding card at the self service stand.  It's about 7.15am so I have plenty of time to get through security and browse duty free before boarding at 8.20am, flight is due to leave at 8.50am and I'll be in sunny Southampton by 10.

I get through security without a hitch, make my way through to the lounge and check the boards, everything looks fine, no gate yet but it's early.  I woke with a bit of a cold so I head to the chemist to pick up some travel tissues, emerge and instantly notice, the colour red, drawing my fuzzy vision to the boards.  I have to get closer to read but it's already registered with me that the red is for "cancelled", 8 flights are cancelled and there must be four or five hundred people milling around the lounge, all making a bee-line for the two women behind the desk.  I join the queue but instantly, three other queues form and I stand there for 20 minutes not moving an inch.

Eventually, a lone airline employee arrives to hand out flyers on refund policy, how the airline is not responsible for the weather and something about travel insurance.  She is defensive, and I don't blame her, she's probably bracing herself to be verbally set upon by irate travellers.  To be fair, I didn't hear anyone with a lost temper or a raised voice, but she wasn't that helpful. 

There was no information... other than the flyer, no announcements and no-one to tell you what to do next.  The flyer woman finally arrives at me and she's fielding questions as she distributes in a bit of a drive-by fashion so I ask her a question which makes her stop in her tracks.

"I'm sorry to trouble you but you need to tell me where to go next and what to do, I've never been booked on a cancelled flight before."  Woman does actually stop, I need to make my way out of the airport, head back to departures and the airline desk... there may be a massive queue, and the airline will "try" to get me on a later flight, it depends if they have the capacity.  I and everyone around me listens intently, at least I wasn't the only one who didn't know what to do.

Not sounding hugely promising.  Woman directs us, (me and the surrounding fellow passengers,) to the way out.  I'm now in a queue with a couple of hundred people.  We wait, patiently for 15 minutes before the queue starts to move.  As we get closer, the shorter lady to my right asks if I can see what's happening, why is it such a slow moving queue?  As we get closer, I can see staff checking boarding cards, they must be doing some kind of security check to let us out.  As we get closer, we realise that we are in the totally wrong queue, we are in a queue to board for a flight to Heathrow which is somehow going ahead.

We'd wasted quite a bit of time queueing in the wrong place and now I'm thinking if I ever get to the airline desk, any available seats may be gone.  We ask someone else the way to the exit, our boarding passes are checked, we're let through and we follow the exit signs, finally coming through the doors into the arrivals area like we've just got off a flight.  The irony isn't lost on me and it manages to stir a slight smile from my lips.

I make my way back to departures and after a small wait, manage to get on the 3.25pm flight... if the fog lifts...

March 12th

It is indeed 12th March, and for the first time in months, I'm in Starbucks, writing, in my journal.  It's a day off from work, the beginning of a week off and I'm so looking forward to it. 

Tomorrow, I'm heading "down south" to stay with the lovely JR and to visit the rest of my collective friends down there.  I'm catching the early flight for the first time so my long weekend will be even longer this time, I should have landed by 10am and I can't wait.

This is my first break since Christmas and I realise now, how stressed I've become.  I've been pushed to my limits since November, like anyone, yeah, one problem at a time please but when they pile up or overlap or are just, incessant, raging tooth ache, eye problems, car problems... multiple, work, work, work problems and stress over stress over stress.

I woke at 4am yesterday, had breakfast, tidied around a bit, dawdled, drove slowly, got a coffee then got to work for 6.55.  Had a twenty minute break around 1ish and got home at 18.50.  As I left work, I told myself that I wasn't tired, it was just a long day, but after the hour long drive home, as I creaked out of the car, I had to concede that I was in fact, very tired.

I seriously need to sort myself out.  I can't live in this state of stressed out sleep deprivation.  I began my week off with a lie in... until 6.15am, then I had breakfast, jogged for 15 minutes, the first jog for months, (legs are thinking 15 hours but never mind, still proud.)

I don't think there will be much exercise on my weekend away but I'll repeat the jog when I'm home on Monday.  Today, after my coffee and a little food shop, it's home to tidy the kitchen and clean all of the skirting boards, I know... so exciting.  Then, I'll pack for tomorrow. 

Clean and Lean

James Duigan's Clean and Lean diet and philosophy has been bandied about for a while now and I have to admit that I only ever casually skimmed the text of each article that I read on the subject.  "The Body", aka Elle Macpherson is, or was an advocate, (they are currently on different paths,) Rosie Huntington-Whiteley is closely associated and lets face it, genetics and mostly God gave RHW the advantage but after reading yet another article, "You Magazine" interviewed James and his gorgeous wife Chrissy and my interest was piqued.  Damn you Aussie's, you are so "normal", unpretentious and just like us.  I caved and ordered the latest version of the book from Amazon.

I haven't read it cover to cover just yet but I have skimmed, fervently over the "ugly-better-best" sections of the book.  I am not following 100% just yet, (I'm building,) and it's only been a couple of weeks, but probably, for the first time in my life, I'm eating but without thinking at all, or worrying about it, counting calories kilojoules or fat grams.

My shape has changed, (for the better,) and my cellulite is better, (only had a little but can still see an improvement.)  Don't think I'll see a huge improvement until I can kick the wine and Walkers Thai Sweet Chilli crisps, (which are not recommended in the book,) I'm seriously thinking about hypnosis, really I am.

I'll keep you posted but I think this could be my "diet" of choice, forever.  And when I say "diet", I mean way of eating not necessarily a way of losing weight, wouldn't say no to a few lbs though.

Light and Shade

Highs and lows this week.  After a few, slightly heated conversations with the garage who sold me my latest car, over four days, I eventually get a call back from the garage, salesman sounding slightly deflated, telling me that, apparently, fault I'm having the issue with is "common" and so I should bring it in to be fixed.  So there you go, one problem solved at least.

Work brought more drama and stress and I think I have reached my limit.  Several more nights of not sleeping well and a few missed lunches and I'm so beyond worrying, it's untrue.  I can't sustain this level of worry any longer.

Friday in work, by stark contrast, was happy, buoyant and actually quite relaxing.  My work buddy who is lovely but has a reputation for being a bit of a Mr Grump, (I don't agree incidentally,) was animated, chatty and gave me another great pep talk.  No matter what is said, I will forever be hard on myself and impatient with my limitations.  I can only hope and pray that sometime, very soon, I will transition to be more than competent at my job.

Upon My Death

It's Sunday, and I know I'm a bit down but desperately trying to keep chin up.  I go for my usual coffee, it's not pleasant, seems too strong today, and as usual, Stacey, the barista, calls me Tracy.  Everyone else knows my name in there, yet, Stacey insists on calling me Tracy, I just go with the flow, don't want to embarrass, offend.

On the way home, I call in at one of my sisters for a coffee, and she gifts me a pamphlet, from the "Guild of All Souls", it's the "instructions for my next-of-kin and executors".  The title in bold is... "UPON MY DEATH".  (In capitals, and bold, seriously.)  So, as if I wasn't down enough, I'm now given paperwork to help those left behind for when I do top myself.

Anyhoo, I am supposed to be on a major de-clutter this year, but I have lost the will just now so, for today at least, I'm going to hide the clutter I'm in the middle of sorting, and pretend that it doesn't exist.

Dark Start

So, on Thursday, because I'm car-less while nice garage try to diagnose problem, I am reliant on public transport.  I need to be in early, i.e. 7ish and buses do not begin from my nearest bus stop, early enough to get to the place I need to be to catch the 6.12am to the city of my work.

I wake at 2am and listen to the torrential rain which is tip-tapping, in tap shoes, against my bedroom windows.  I listen for a further 90 minutes before I get up.  I'm stressed, so I'm not at all hungry but I'm trying to be "healthy" and so I make my lunch to take with and prepare scrambled eggs for breakfast.  I also have time to paint my nails and put a wash load in.

I leave for work at 5.35am.  Thankfully, the rain has abated and as I walk through my street, and the next one, a few hyper sensitive security lights click on, which I am very glad of as it's pitch dark.  I'm carrying my usual 2 litre bottle of spring water, lunch, 3 clementines, plus various useless stuff in my suddenly heavy handbag.  I have a, fast paced, 25 minute walk ahead of me.

Five minutes away from home, it's now 5.40am and a, "gentleman", speeds past me on a 30mph road doing around 45mph, hits the gutter and soaks me, both trouser legs, the left side of my jacket up to the collar and half of my bag.  Not proud to say that I swear at driver... twice, then actually gesticulate to said driver.  Something I have never done before in my life and hopefully will never do again.  So, do I turn back, head home and change soaked trousers?

I decide that the, probably 15 minutes it would take to turn back, change and head back out again, would make me miss the bus to work so I continue... wet, even the inside of my jacket pockets are damp.

I continue to the end of the road, turn right and walk along the path to towards the bridge.  With 15 minutes to go, I am in complete darkness, a lonely and deserted pathway with a grassy bank to my left and bushes to my right.  It's winding and feels endless, surely this is not safe.  I had the forethought to bring with me my car keys which have a tiny LED torch attached to make finding a key hole easier.  It's better than nothing but this is not a place anyone, man or woman, wants to be.

Street lighting is out, no doubt due to cost cutting, for 15 minutes of my walk, it's the most scared I've been... on foot, for quite a while.

I finally see a major supermarket which is if course,  brightly lit, this is less than 10 minutes before my bus stop and it's the most amazing oasis of light and a very welcome sight.  Two people are around 200 metres in front of me, one tall, the other smaller.  They seem to be walking in front of me but then the taller, the male, begins to walk towards me.

The male continues to walk towards me but keeps looking over his shoulder, the smaller of the two, the woman must work at the supermarket and he has walked her along the dark and potentially dangerous path.  We pass each other and I continue on the last leg of my journey to the bus stop.

I arrive at the bus stop with about 12 minutes to go and so I would not have had time to to get home to change.  I pace, in the wind, while I wait for the bus, I feel cold, at least in those places which are damp from the soaking.

Bus arrives and I board, pay, plug in my iPod to keep me company.  I listen to Desert Island Discs, a stalwart of British radio and it actually, despite the situation and my dampness, brings a smile to my face, more than once.  (Thank you A & D.) 

I arrive at the other end, alight and set off on my 15 minute walk to the office.  I get to work at 7.15am, I am damp, and exhausted, and so my day begins.

With much ringing around and explaining to my boss, I can get the afternoon off to take sick car, to the garage.  Before I get to do that, I need to do the same journey, only in reverse.

More Egg Shells

I know what you're thinking.  That's actually unkind and unfair, I fully know that you wouldn't be thinking this, it's just me... projecting, venting.  I really need to expel. 

Am I fixed yet?  Hell no.  Tuesday and equally Wednesday were stress central.  Can you imagine, sitting and watching a computer screen for hours, waiting for something to go awry?  Only for the hours to pass and the time to come when the waiting ends and the stress of compiling extremely number centric reports, lots and lots of room for potential error and yes, that person who you would never want to admit a mistake to, has ignored me and my emails for over a week now and only responded to one, a) because she had to and b) to point out something that wasn't wrong, but she wasn't happy with.

Wednesday afternoon, I left work, got into my lovely new-ish car and headed home with my head still hurting from the day.  Half way to home, I realised that car did not sound normal and was not responding as it should.

I call Jan when I get home, can you relay this to Dear BIL?  Dear BIL is AA Patrol so if anyone can translate malfunction, it's him.  Bless Dear BIL as after a long day at work, he comes over to my place, he has a little look under the bonnet then we head out for a test drive.

Houston, we do indeed have a quite a significant problem.  Car is under warranty for three months.  Long story short, the fault can be fixed under warranty however they have identified another fault which is not covered under warranty, a £250 fault, which around six weeks after I bought the car, is pretty sole destroying.  They advise I should go back to the garage I bought it from, said garage is not returning my calls.  Hard to keep chin up just now.

Egg Shells

Hi Sweetie, how are things?  Things here, work wise... not great.  I feel so out of my depth. 
Can you remember learning to swim?  I can, vividly, never a strong swimmer and definitely not a duck to water, I mainly remember treading water and slowly sinking.  That's how I feel at the moment, well, for the past couple of weeks especially.  I have struggled since I started the job in November and I have been "waiting" to be found out, and found out, I was, a couple of weeks ago when I made a mistake.  I was rushing to comply with time constraints, hadn't considered how easy it would be to make such a mistake, (I do now,) and the mistake had to be admitted to someone who you would never, in a million years, want to admit fallibility to.  My colleagues, manager and even "big" boss has tried to reassure me.  It was an honest mistake.  Mistakes happen, it's not the end of the world.  Total over reaction by the other party.  But none of it makes me feel any better. 

I am sleep deprived and tired from walking on egg shells.  I'm second guessing myself every minute of every day in work and just waiting to make another mistake.

Coincidentally, my body seems to be having a bit of a meltdown.  The majority of my joints ache and I have swollen bits which, a week or two ago, they were not swollen, stiff or sore.  I am prone to ache in parts but I am wondering if my body is reacting to the worry.  I am a firm believer that stress will eek out of your body through a physical pathway, the way water will flow down a drain.

I thought I had found somewhere I could remain, learn and get good again, for the next ten, twenty years, now I'm not so sure.

I do feel like giving up but I know that I can't, I'm not ready to and I know that I should not anyway, that's not the answer.

I have learnt a vast amount since November but I probably have at least the same amount of knowledge to learn again before I can relax and so I know it's going to be a long and painful journey to the summer.  I'm not sure that I can balance on egg shells for that long, but I have to try.

Here's to the arrival of Spring, lighter evenings and learning.