Hello Poppy

Here is Poppy, our new kitten. She is very adorable, affectionate and a real time-bandit. Tabba hates her and has growled and hissed with such evilness that I shut Poppy away overnight, to prevent her having her throat ripped out while we sleep. Hopefully Tab will get used to her.....

Seemingly, Susan Boyle (aka SuBo - dontcha just hate that?) is releasing a track which is a cover of a Stones tune - Wild Horses. Never heard of it, but a tune in on this link seems like it's a pretty nice song....

For those charting my mental progress, I have booked a Doc appointment and should be spilling my guts to her unfortunate ears next week lol.

what is WRONG with me???? (it's a rhetoric question)

Well, back this morning from a week in Menorca, and I have never been so glad to get home. It was a very lovely place, lovely scenery around the hotel and on top of a gorgeous sandy beach with clear, shallow waters, Mark and Oliver were (as always) lovely to be with and yet all the time, my anxiety levels rise and rise until I think I am going to either a) have a panic attack or b) collapse in floods of tears until I feel better. I have been like this since my first holiday abroad in July 1988. I hated it and wept loads until I came home. The only holidays I have had when I didn't feel on the verge of a nervous breakdown have been ones where I have stayed in proper 'homes' and been part of 'normal life'.

Poor Mark and Oliver. I am so wrapped up in the panic and anxiety of not enjoying my holiday, that I ineveitably end up miserable and ruining things for them. Hopefully Oliver is too young to realise that his mother is a nutter, and Mark deserves better. Since I have endured these horrible feelings for so long whilst on holiday, enough is enough. I am going to the Docs and I am asking her to get me in to see a counsellor. Surely being this loopy on holiday qualifies for some sort of help..... think my problems are a control issue anyway, I feel better at home, in control of my little world.....

Anyway, now 2 weeks behind with SLYMI so will chill over that, and meanwhile, here are some pics from my holiday, which had it's little highs despite all my unwitting attempts to sabotage my own happiness....

'childhood....

...has no forebodings; but then, it is soothed by no memories of outlived sorrow.' The Mill on the Floss, George Eliot.

Here is the finished layout:

I will admit, probably a little rushed - I am amid pre-hol packing/panic, but am fairly pleased with the outcome.

Tonight, planned in my la-la land of make-believe, was going to be relaxed packing but Mark managed to find a baby pigeon on the way home (yes dear reader, Pigeons are his latest thing) and so I have spent a goodly hour or so soothing ruffled feathers (literally) and tending to baby pidgy's needs. My patience, thin to begin with, is now nearly transparent and Oliver is not that well either, coughing and seeming to be 'not well'.

Must go - excessive overload of shitty jobs beckons.....

dreamy....

It has been over a week since my last blog! Tsk tsk, I am slipping. I got granted some time in ye olde craftroom yesterday, since Oliver had been whisked off by my Mum, and all I did was put a film on and shove bits of paper around the same layout for over an hour! That is soooo rubbish. I have, on the bright side, managed to cobble together some cards:


One for a woman at work who is retiring, and one for a friend who is getting married. A total co-incidence they have both ended up with the same word on the front.




This week's SLYMI is scrap a Bank Holiday. Boo Hiss I say. We rarely do anything of note on a BH due to Mark usually working and I can't bear to fight the hordes and go out anyway. Think I am going to scrap this pic of Oliver and Vanessa, taken at Escot just before the start of the last long weekend.

I love this photo. Maybe not the best in the world (come on, it was taken by me after all what do you expect) but I love the movement and their evident joy in just running around in the grass. Going to poke about to find a suitable passage/quote about childhood/freedom to place artily on it somewhere, methinks. Hmmm, the best laid plans of mice and men... and all that.


At work last night I set off for the 'store' to retrieve some notes only to find that by 8.30 it was dark outside!! WHERE has the summer (and I do use this term loosely) gone?? We have been plunged into the depths of Autumn already - I have been banking on an Indian Summer as scant compensation for the shocking weather we have endured lately!

Today started off on a bright note - I had an email to say I have had two layouts accepted for publication, so that always kind of justifies my crafty existence....

I have finished this week's SLYMI - scrap from the sketch (unfortunately):

Popped into town this morning where I waited FIFTEEN minutes to be served at McDonalds, who were clearly not getting the point of the 'fast' in 'fast food.' Think it was entirely down to the drongos serving - all under the age of about 15 and only one with English as their first language. Now, don't get me wrong - I have no issue with the language thing, but it pisses me off when I am hungry and in the queue from hell, and they are moving at snail pace around the McFlurry zone.

Now, you will of course be correct in assuming that any food in the McDonald remit does not fall within Rosemary Conley's less than 5% fat rule and within any reasonable calorie allowance but - hey, I missed breakfast and intended to miss lunch and I am doing the RC DVDs with astonishing regularity (...travel over and lift), and my body shape is, surprisingly, looking pretty OK, I think, so no need to beat myself up here.

I bought a new bikini in that classy joint Primark (home of the scabby Chav) and the only size bikini bottom anywhere near not huuuuge was in bright red. So I bought it, to go with a black tankini top, and I am convinced the bottoms will be see-through by the time they are wet, thereby ensuring terrorising every man, woman and child in the swimming pool. Hey, it was a fiver, so there is my justification lol.

and the summerless summer continues....

Today dawned bright and cloudy as per, so I took Oliver off to A La Ronde, a National Trust place nearby, which we have never visited, and which was laying on craft activities today. He enjoyed the craft and then we had a poke around the house, which I found quirkily charming and pretty darned amazing, actually. Oliver enjoyed it enough for a second whirl around, and I think I would like to go back alone for a serious 'look' at stuff myself, rather than the whistle-stop glances I have had to restrict myself to since the advent of motherhood.

I like to stand in rooms at these places, preferably (not often) alone and feel it all soaking in - like I really lived there. If you know what I mean. I recall a chateau in Brittany a few years back, Trevarez I think it was called, where I kept walking backwards and forwards across the wooden-floored ballroom and glancing out of the gi-normous windows across the gi-normous gardens and imagining myself as some 19th century countess in a gi-normous bejewelled gown.... of course this reverie was continually broken by the (step)kids moaning about something or other so I never fully captured the experience.

Took this pic of Oliver in one of the rooms - naughty me, photography is a treasonable offence at the NT props - I heard one of the 'volunteers' (aka former SS officers) coming down the passageway as I was snapping away and nearly threw myself into the nearest cupboard in terror. They had dressing up clothes there today, and Oliver, donning a top hat turned instantly into the Artful Dodger and started walking around like a pearly king, now what's all that about??

This week's SLYMI was actually completed on the afternoon it was set, (last Thurs) which is almost unheard of, but it is so not my style, ('scrap a square within a square), and I so feel I have ruined a lovely photo that I haven't felt in the mood to blog it all week. Still, here it is, and think I may just doodle around some of it in black to satisfy my need to scruff this pastel neatness up a bit....

Anyway, that's all for now. Oliver is badgering me to play Monopoly for the fourth time this week. He seems to have mastered the art of quickly advancing from the purchase of top-priced properties to bankrupting me within a few circuits of the board. He is so like his father. And when did the shift happen between letting your kids think they have beaten you fair and square - and your kids beating you fair and square despite your best and meanest efforts to win?

It surely is the beginning of the end.

what's new pussycat

As mentioned in yesterday's post, this morning we were off to Sticksville to look at a kitten. Despite having scribbled instructions given to me over the phone, I decided I knew best and followed the route recommended by Google maps, and got lost. I found the place by sheer chance and - wow - what a house they have. It is an old mill - with the waterwheel on the side clearly seen via the large kitchen and living room windows - such a fabulous feature. They have alot of old rugs and furniture too, and there were wooden spiral stairs, wooden floors, rooms leading off all over the place - it was like stepping into a glamorous version of the Magic Faraway Tree. I loved it. Anyway -back to the kittens lol.

They were (predictably) gorgeous and Oliver has chosen this one:

They are calling her Poppy at the moment, and since that is such a pretty and suitable name, we see no need to change it. We will pick her up mid September. I have high hopes that she will be the pet Oliver dreams of.....

Meanwhile, here is Tabba (which is latin for: 'I'm not sitting on your lap no way') - sleeping on the sofa and dreaming up new ways to ignore us and cost us money, no doubt.