junk journalling

Welcome to my 'new' thang. Junk journalling, as far as I can gather, is pretty much just bunging anything you want to into a book which you think looks good, and lots of paint. To this end, here is the beginning of mine - an altered book. I won't 'do' the cover until much later, but at the moment I am finding gentle satisfaction in slapping paint about.

Here is a 'naked' page;

The 'nude' front cover;

a few 'ready-for-entries' pages;

a couple of completed pages;

Tres enjoyable. Also picked up my cross stitch again, pic to follow of progress made with that.

Home edding update to come.....

I have lost £3.....

....no, sorry, that's 3 lb that I have lost this week. Ha ha - it's a joke - see how I did that? £ - lb?? Never mind. It was funnier in my head.

And helping me along the way in my quest for a less chunky moi is an Xbox Kinect game - the Biggest Loser. Now, this is apparently a game show type programme on tv (never seen it) for tubbies who need to lose weight before they die of a cardiac arrest. It is, as confirmed by the reviews of the game, a difficult one to control. If you were thinking of getting a Kinect - and I think it's a fab concept because it generally means that instead of your kids sitting on their arses getting blistered fingers from using handheld controls, they are up on their feet using energy and co-ordination. No, it doesn't compare with being in the great outdoors for real, you puritans, but it is a good step for lazy gamers (of which there are millions) - anyhoo, IF you were thinking of getting one - you need alot of room. I frequently find myself backed into the farthest reaches of the room pressed up against the corner of the sofa trying to be seen by the sensor whilst preforming a series of 'jab crosses'.

AND, the point of today's diatribe is - this game is shit. Buy it if you want a programme of controlled exercises to follow on a regular basis (I do), but if you are not deft with the old control aspects of gaming (I am not and frequently swear at the console) and the constant drawl of American twang jars at the very core of your patience (good jaaaahb, perfect pose - just like a yoga master) then don't buy it - you will end up very angry.

AND - today, because the stupid pile of shite (the console, obviously - not me) hadn't saved what I'd done last week (3 workouts, no less), I had a terrible score and ended up at the bottom of the 'leaderboard' and up for elimination!!!!!! What utter bollocks. What happens if you get eliminated from your own game that you bought and paid for and can turn off at any time is a bit of a mystery to me. I ended up watching the elimination process in fascinated horror as it came down to me, or 'Amanda' getting kicked off the show. Luckily, 'Enzo' voted for me to stay, not Amanda, and I live to workout another day. Phew. I noted my character, a little fat round object in a red vest, collapsing on the podium in sheer relief.

Truly, I fear for our future.

ok, ok, don't faint

I am back in blogworld. The reason for the break? Er, Christmas, disillusionment with scrapbooking, holidays, blah blah blah....

So, Christmas was good - highlights and lowlights as ever. Great pressies received by us all, and it passed peaceably enough. We had the fortune of going to Lanzarote just after Christmas to join Mum and Dad in a villa in Puerton del Carmen - somewhere I have not (and never wanted to) visited before. How narrow minded am I?? It was, although a tad purpose built and touristy, lovely in it's way. The weather was idyllic - hot days, cool evenings, the resort was not busy. We had a villa with our own pool (that's a luxury that I will now demand from any holiday, I can tell you) just up from the main promenade, near the shops (tacky or not, I don't care - shops is shops), and I loved being able to bimble along either way along the beach/prom for a walk. Pics:

Cheezers:

Oliver and his nemesis, the front crawl:

Canarian sunset:

studying the specials board:

Madre y Padre:

Now this - this was an experience. Mum and Dad talked us into a stroll out to see the planes land - YAWN I think to myself - but - sacre bleu - how wrong could I have been mes amis - it was bloody fabulous, free entertainment!!! The runway was yards from where we were standing, and they came in at a speed of at least one million miles per hour and brushed the top of my hair.... well, it seemed that way anyhow. It was well good (as I would say if I were young enough to get away with it).

Get yer fill of that blue sky.......