Ready and waiting.....

Packed and ready to head off to Cheltenham, just waiting for my lift to arrive :))))))) Hope it will be on time!!!!!!!!!

Up and ready early this morning, the builders are here by 8am, so I was in my best negligee, make up perfect, casually leaning on a work top waiting....hunky builders, have to be presentable....then I saw the note left by Clvie saying they were doing another job in London today and won't be back until Monday....men!!! I brushed the brick dust off my sleeve and plugged in the kettle to make tea, til I realised the plug point wasn't attached to a wall any more (ok, a..and then it dawned on me.....moment) and wondered where all the black grit in the sugar bowl had come from.....

Oh well, I think I'll go and start a good book to while away the time. See you later.

Oh, gosh....

I found this heap of rubble in my drive-way when I got home from work. I could have sworn all those bricks were a wall in my kitchen when I left this morning...oh well...

yes, the kitchen is bigger and everything is under a sea of brick dust...wish I had put those saucepans away in the cupboard now...various things are abandoned and dust covered...the wooden kitchen roll holder..that's going. The mug trees. They're going. In fact more or less everything I gave house room to in the old kitchen is going. Everything will be new. And I mean everything....

Took Sophie dog to the vet's this morning and left her to have various tests..have to take her off her arthritis medicine completely to see if it was having an adverse affect on her kidney function. It will be a balance between kidney function and mobility...all results back next week. I even managed to catch a urine sample in the vet's car park, but forgot the bottle, so carried it in on the flat plastic lid and handed it to the receptionist to find a suitable receptacle. She looked a bit horrified..goodness, what does she expect, working in a vets? I asked for the lid back, to go on my tupperware sandwich box. Oh, only joking....it's Clive's tupperware sandwich box....

End of Day 2....

Window and door completely bricked in now, hole made for new window but still boarded up...maybe get a new window today!!!

Despite various ups and downs I am still feeling ok, still accessing some energy, dealing with e-mails and conference calls etc for S*gar Hill Festival (do google it and see the new website and line-up....) dealing with the problems and personality clashes, working hard at the day job, coping with people who promise they will ring ('your friendship is important to me, please do not give up....') and then don't, and forget they even said they would (how important does that make you feel on a scale of 1 to 10, let me see....)

I get through the day, am bouncy with my staff, focused on my work, even risk going to the hairdressers for a cut and colour...not too bad altho I haven't washed and blow dried it this morning....(I bought some ghd solid ceramic hair straighteners..they should be called omg, the price.....

But...there is always a but..yesterday did end in tears....after a trip to the vet yesterday morning, cos Sophie's fur is all falling out, 'Just a heavy moult I'm sure, but we'll do a routine blood test to be sure.....' no, all is not well with Sophie, and this morning she has to go back for more blood tests, and Clvie tried to get a urine sample but failed, so I have to try...but the news doesn't sound good,. so I stayed up last night and just cuddled her, and cried....my best friend....

Spread those wings and learn to fly..please...

I was undressed and about to get into bed when the phone rang. The house phone ringing when the house is in darkness always sounds worrying. I go and answer it. It is Laura. It is 11pm.


'Hi, mum, are you in bed?' 'Sort of, almost, why?' 'Um, is dad in bed? Is he asleep?' 'Yes, why?' 'There's a pigeon on my fridge.' 'Oh'. (Voice gets wobbly...) ''It's a big pigeon, honest I've only had a bit to drink and he is real, and there is pigeon poo everywhere, and Mec is in London, and I don't like it...' 'Ok, I'll come round.' 'Thanks, mum.'


I dress and drive round giggling all the way at the silliness of it...Laa is trapped in the lounge with Pidg taking pride of place in the kitchen, and yes, there is a large amount of poo all over the place. I go into the kitchen and take charge, opening door and window and encouraging movement with a pair of oven gloves. That gives me an idea.....


Suddenly the Pidg takes off and flaps towards me, and it is very big with large claws and a long, sharp beak, and suddenly I am crouching with the oven gloves wrapped round my head, making strange noises, and Laa is doubled up laughing at me, saying, see, you are as scared as me....


It's not that I'm scared but it is big and it flaps and flies about, and between us we get it from fridge to cupboard, to vase of flowers, to ironing board, to cooker, to edge of casserole dish..'go on, hop in, little pidg'...to anywhere but open window and door.


Mec has been summoned from pub in London, where he is a little bit drunk and laughing at the pigeon predicament. I get braver and attempt to get close and pick up said bird with oven gloves, but it always stays out of reach, that little bit too high...We are still trying when Mec arrives home, walks in, reaches up to the cupboard, picks up the Pidg, and with a flurry of feathers and a bit more poo he is out the window, he banged his head a bit on the way out but Mec did say sorry...


Soon he flew away and I left Mec the Hero making tea, Laa clearing up poo, and I came back to bed..oh , did I mention that I kept taking pictures just for you....
Pidg on cupboard... Pidg on flowers... Pidg on Fridge.... bless.

End of Day One....

and it looks like this.....














....we had better start thinking about what we want to do now...

Knowing that the builders would be working up one end of the kitchen, I happily moved a lot of 'stuff'' up the other end, to the kitchen table. But it's funny how dust and rubble can travel that extra couple of feet..who'd have thought....

When removing the cupboard that was in the middle of the kitchen, the builders found a tin of Whiskas stamped 1989 under 19 year's supply of plastic bags (waste not want not....) and the cat's been dead 10 years at least...

Gave me an excuse to get Clvie to call in and get a take away on the way home..can I get away with not cooking for the next six months I wonder???

The end of an era.....

When we first looked at this house, more than 19 years ago, it was quite big, and had a lvoely garden, and big kitchen, which had been extended outwards and sideways - but they left the corner of the house there, in the middle of the kitchen, well, in front of the sink to be precise....and the units were horrible, dark mahogany, which I hate, and the sink was on one side of the kitchen, behind the pillar, and the fridge and hob and oven were on the other side, behind the kitchen table, so you couldn't actually get at them if anyone was sitting there, (I have thoughtfully got up and taken pictures this morning to show you) and you had to cross the kitchen with sauce pans full of boiling water, or scalding dishes from the oven, cos there was no where to put them down.....

But it's big and light with french windows on to the garden, and most people who see it for the first time say, 'Oh, what a lvoely kitchen...' but they don't actually have to cook in it....and although that day we decided to cripple ourselves and buy the house, I said I don't like the kitchen, and Clvie said, don't worry, I can change that.....and I was always told the pillar had to stay as it was holding up the house, and we didn't have the money to do up the kitchen, and Clvie has spent 19 years saying, 'What's wrong with it?' as he has mended draws and doors to stop them falling off, and put odd bits of lino that don't match into the floor where the dog scratched it...and it is scruffy and horrible and I still hate it....

Well, plans have been afoot, and I am squandering my inheritance, not on wild women and song (ooh, the very idea, well, not wild women but the odd song) but on Doing My Kitchen. My kitchen. My money. And the first thing to happen, this very morning they are going to start (oh, bloody hell, I'd better get up, they will be here in a minute) and the builders arrive to prepare to Take Down the Pillar. Then plans will be made for a new kitchen. After 19 years of walking round the pillar, and there only being room for one person at the sink...(what's wrong with that? said the builder, as long as there's room for you, I don't see the problem....good job he is a friend.....)

So, better get up and get ready...it will be a bit of a shock for Sophie dog, her basket is under the worktop joined on to the pillar......

And more freedom....

Sunday dawned rainy so I stayed in bed reading, then spent time tidying (always needed!) and sorting out some clothes..I now have stuff in three wardrobes, let's be honest, I have too many clothes and probably wear 10% of what I have, most of it being too small for me!!! But one day....

I spent the morning pottering, listening to radio 2..but Steve Wright's Sunday Love Songs suddenly got to me, all that love and devotion, couldn't hack it any more so turned to my i-tunes...aah, that's better....I pottered, played on my laptop, did e-mails, did some work, did some ironing, listening to music I lvoe and ok, I admit it, doing some thinking about life, you can't help it, can you?

When I got the text from Rosemarie about 1pm inviting me to go for a swim, I thought, can I be bothered..but yes, I can, getting out will do me good, I am reaching the slightly tearful stage of thinking too much.....swimming will be good. I did another 20 lengths, and Rosemarie helpfully pointed out that these two recent visits has meant the average cost of a swim for me is going down from £100 to at least £70..ok, ok, I ought to go more often, I admit it... We had a coffee and a good gossip, and I talked about my total split personality....sometimes I am not sure who I am...

For instance, if someone you love and are close to and you try to help with stress and all that is going on their life, and they say thank you, but can I have some space to sort myself out please, I'll be back....I have two distinct reactions in my head..one is the What would Jesus do kind of thought? Give the person space, as long as they want, and when they return, you hold out your arms (metaphorically speaking) and smile lvoeingly and say, that's ok, I am here for you whenever you need me..that's one way...but the other way that's in my head is the horns sprouting out of head, eyes flashing red, flames out of mouth response of 'Glad you're sorted, now f*ck off, not interested any more,' kind of response..which is not quite so lvoing and caring, is it?

Or do you think there is a middle way?

Anyway, did more ironing, more e-mailing, made Clvie a cup of tea when he came home, before cooking and sleeping through Coast, what a lovely relaxing programme....

And thought, weekend of freedom over...the thing is...the reason for all his work is that he has, at last, sold the business, or will have by the end of the month, and will then be home..well, all the time...that will be a Big Change, won't it boys and girls????

Freedom.....freedom?

A weekend of freedom..what does that mean? It means Clvie was working all weekend and I had two whole days on my own, being accountable to no-one, doing exactly what I wanted, when I wanted. For some people this is a regular thing, for others, it is unimaginable. I guess it might also be viewed several ways, according to your own particular standpoint - it might sound very lonely and sad, or it might be the most wonderful opportunity!!!

I actually like it: I am happy in my own company and my own space, but am aware I often rush to fill any free time in my enthusiasm to do lots, see friends, and suddenly the space is all used up. I felt I needed to take my time and have time on my own, and also get stuff done.

Saturday started slowly, mind you I got tea in bed at 7.15am when Clive left, so I was awake quite early....wrote a blog, did e-mails, leisurely got up, met Jill, walked the doggies, had coffee and croissants with a friend who popped round (bringing the croissants, how thoughtful) but the conversation that accompanied it was a bit soul searching and not easy...left me a bit upset but also ok if you see what I mean....

After a few domestic activities such as putting washing on, I left for London to go and help James move some stuff into Amy's flat. They are moving in together while they look for somewhere to buy. He is leaving a lvoely flat surrounded by trees near Highgate, to where Amy lives, deeper into London in an area with not a leaf in sight! So mixed feelings....and where will they afford to buy??? A time of change...

Moving was relaxed and friendly, and we ended up back in Highgate where we sat in a lvoely old pub all evening, chatting and eating, a really nice relaxing time, good to get to know Amy better and see James happy after a few turbulent years...

I drove home later than intended, but hey, that's fine, watched a bit of Glastonbury and headed for bed.

Goodness, what a week.....

Sunday, Father's Day, children here, mother in law here: evening, working on festival stuff in lieu of Friday (see caravan site flood blog):

Monday, family visits, mothers, children, disability, special needs, coping, not coping, needing more: afternoon, one of those meetings, partnership, working together, best interests of the child, blah blah blah, Sally, what do you think? Um..oh go for it...well, we sit in these meetings, but still parents struggle, no physio for months, no speech therapy for months, shortage of social workers, shortage of health visitors, my service is all they have, and I can't do enough..oops have I spoken out of turn???

Monday evening a trip to Chelmsford for a festival meeting, hopefully a visit to a kitchen showroom beforehand..no M25, M11 sh*tty, takes 2 hours, showroom closed..still a good meeting, and time for some pasta afterwards...yum...

Tuesday, write minutes and do e-mails from 7am, attending training in the morning, organising the venue, giving the training in the afternoon, protecting children, encouraging volunteers, before leaving for Hungerford and a difficult meeting re another festival, people to be managed, hard words to be said: let me do it, he said, it was like watching them be mauled by a small kitten: frustrating, hey mr nice guy, sometimes you have to be hard....back home through driving rain (not speaking, what's new...) to a shoe party given by a friend for my charity...sorry Liz, I bought two pairs:

Wednesday, a work meeting with colleagues from other schemes, the time we meet informally and share anything, and much laughter ensues..together with much political incorrectness..sometimes we just have to.... in the evening, a meal out with a group of volunteers and staff, I put my card behind the bar...they all drink fruit juice or water, think I can run to that..I entertain my volunteers as required and appear to be the butt of all jokes....

Thursday up early and go to a conference put the display stand up, greet colleagues, go to hear the speakers, attend the workshops, 'man' the stand, meet and greet, sell the service, pack up the stand, back to the office, do some work, drive home..first night in all week..Clvie is working late...I eat biscuits, drink tea, lie in the bath, walk the dog, cook the dinner, lie on the sofa and sleep through 'Coast': go to bed and stay up late 'talking' on msn to friend with new mac....

Friday up later, visit a family, hear about life with disabled child, see total devotion and commitment, hear about the court case, the marriage problems, and as I leave I get a hug for listening...the volunteer has been supporting for 2 years and is an angel....

Decide to leave the office early, meet Rosemarie and go swimming, 22 lengths without stopping, a record, where am I getting this energy from...go home for a conference call, takes an hour, then go to pub to meet V for a drink and we talk for two hours (she was my bereavement counsellor, now friend) I buy pizzas on the way home, curl up on the sofa and watch Glastonbury..you know, life is ok after all....

Severe weather warning...part two

So there we were, five pm promptly, quite a shock really, but DC meant business, we were going to get loads done, so there we were, at my dining room table, matching laptops side by side, files out at the ready, my new fax/printer/scanner connected to my laptop ready to go, a list of actions and....after a couple of hours Things Would be Done..Stress Would be Lessened...sounds like a plan.....

Anyway, as Dc is setting up, I go into the kitchen to put the kettle on and fetch the plain chocolate digestives...no meeting is complete without them..DC's phone rings..it's North Yorkshire number (where he based all week) and he says, no, that's the third time someone has tried to ring him from there in the last hour, but no, he's not going to answer, they can wait, he will focus on the Important Work we have to do here....

While I am pouring the tea I hear his phone bleep with a text....then I hear a shocked voice say a rather rude word, then silence....I freeze, with a sense of foreboding..what on earth has someone texted....I go in to the dining room with tea and he is staring at his phone. He hands it to me, and I read:

'Urgent. Caravan site flooding. Caravan needs moving immediately.'

We stare at it. Is this a joke?? Someone having a 'laugh?' It's the middle of June and the sun was shining on a lvoely dry field when he left on Wednesday evening....

A phone call to the site confirms the awful truth, and yes, they have called him three times in the last hour...the river has burst its banks and his caravan is next to it (such a pretty spot he picked to live during the week..) and is at risk of being swept away....

So DC, having left the keys with the site owners the first week, realised he didn't this week, and there is a security lock on the towing hitch and a wheel clamp on one of the wheels...does he need to come now with the keys? Oh yes, they say.

So he abandon laptop and files and jumps in the landy and drives very fast northwards....and I remember the severe weather warning I heard....

He only gets as far as Stevenage (not far) when they ring to say the water is up to the caravan door (18") and rising, can they take steps to move it whatever the risk of damage? Yes, says DC, thinking, we only bought this three weeks ago and it cost a lot of money and it seemed a good idea at the time...

So when he gets there, he discovers the caravan, safely on a bit of dry concrete, having been dragged off using a wire hawser wrapped round the towing hitch, and pulled, wheel clamp and all, out of the water and to safety.

When he rings me, at gone 11.30pm to tell me all is well but that the river has risen 15' !!!! (what took you so long, did you get there ok, have you had to do much?) (answer: no, I got here by 9.30pm and moved the caravan to a better space, but have been drinking whisky with the guys to say thank you.....) I did ask if anyone had taken pictures of the dramatic rescue? No, says DC they were busy getting 100 plus holiday makers off the site and rescuing my caravan, and avoiding drowning, why would they stop to take pictures? Oh, I say, a bit disappointed, I wanted some for my blog.....

Next morning I text at 8.30am asking politely for a couple of pics if he wouldn't be so kind...oh yes, he says, I will get up and go outside specially....no trouble...and I was rewarded with these wonderful photos of a very large lake where once was a caravan site....

This is the best one..can you see, in front of the line of hedges, slightly towards the left of the picture, a lampost sticking up out of the water? You can see its reflection in the lake?? Well, between that lampost and the trees on the right, was parked a caravan, until very recently....

Stormy weather..part one...

...I heard it on the radio..severe weather warning in the north west...didn't apply to me....didn't think much, except it had really, really, rained here yesterday too....anyway, the events of the last couple of days had kept us busy..me and DC going to Swindon for a S*gar Hill Festival meeting..things not going so well, a lot of work, people to manage, problems to deal with, it's been time consuming...

Anyway, we had a conversation on the way, about life, how much there is to do, how DC had 420 unread e-mails, how mad e-mailing has got....and I talked about being realistic about how much to take on, how to say no occasionally, and a few other home truths that didn't go down very well.....

To break the slightly awkward silence that then ensued I reminded DC that we needed to detour to Cheltenham if possible to pick up the mended tyre that got a hole in at the last festival cos I reversed the landy over a sharp piece of broken pipe on the racecourse, but it wasn't my fault, DC had reversed the landy there in the first place, not my fault I then drove over the pipe..my reminder was rewarded with a 'for f*ck's sake' very loudly..not sure what I said wrong..I said we don't have time now but after the meeting...then I got, 'I've got the wrong f*cking car!' with venom...we were in the Other Car (you know, in 'My other car's an Audi type of way...), I didn't realise he meant to bring the landy so the man could actually put the tyre back on....

The way he shouted and swore made me feel it was my fault, he doesn't lose his temper very often, the last time was when we missed the ferry to Iona, and that was horrible and he shouted and swore and I cried and walked off....well this time I felt the unfairness of it all, and so I sniffed a bit and got the hump, and he said, 'I'm not shouting at you, I'm cross with myself,' and I sniffed more and looked out of the window...there we were having the classic husband and wife row and we are not, and I don't need this from a good friend and business partner.....

Anyway, we did the meeting and were civil then after over a drink and a good meal in a pub we were friends again - we usually are! - and we talked about the stress, and how we haven't made our Monday evening weekly business meetings for while now, what with Bank Holidays and other stuff, so I suggested Friday evening, straight after work, 5pm til 7pm so it didn't take up the evening, to crack on and get some work done, that will take the stress off and get the actions done for the Other Festival Meeting we have on Monday, and also leave DC free over the weekend to deal with the 500 plus e-mails which will by then be siting in his in-box....

So that's a plan then.....

Two years ago today.....

..my dad died. We always thought of him as a cross between Cliff Michelmore and Harry Worth...(if you have to ask, you're too young....)

Two years on, I don't think of them every day any more. When I do, it's ok. The last time I cried? That's easy...on the morning after Laa's wedding, driving back from the hotel to home, on my own with my thoughts for twenty minutes. I thought about the wedding. About mum and dad not being there..and I tried to share it with them..to tell them their lvoely grand-daughter was happy, how beautiful she ahd looked, how proud they would have been....and I cried buckets (not advisable when driving down the A1, but hey..)..by the time I reached home and family I was ok again, composed...no-one knew.....

No-one knew about today, it's my special time to think about him. Now I can think about both of them with a bit more distance, remember them as they were before the awful last couple of years....

It's two years on. I am doing ok, I've 'moved on' as they say. But dad, awkward b*gger that you were, I lvoed you. And I've still got your glasses.....

I'm on my way to Wembley....

..at least I was, last Saturday. And this is what it looked like: as you can see, I was a long, long way back. In the back row as a matter of fact. Top tier, back row. Block 552, row 40, seat 371. Climbing up the steep steps to the top did nothing for my poor knees, I had to keep stopping to admire the view...once I was there, that was it, there would be no 'popping down' at the interval for a drink or a pee....but I took comfort in the fact that others, having reached the top, also looked in need of oxygen....

I didn't know what a big deal it was, me going to this concert. No idea. When friend Jill said, I've got s spare ticket for George Michael (for it is he..that small person centre stage...), do you want to come? I thought, oh, it's the final of Joseph, I'll miss it..but then I decided, yes, I'm up for an evening with GM, and a trip to Wembley, you only live once, etc etc....

I didn't realise, until later, that this was the first live gig at the new stadium! And it was his 25th anniversary gig: a whole 25 years since he played there with Wham! The Final Tour. Judging from the reaction when he mentioned this, a lot of people had been there too....

The stadium is squeaky clean and lvoely..more stewards, SIA guys and Response Teams than I have ever seen, but they were all friendly, helpful and lvoely..event he SIA guy who stepped in to avert the conflict situation which was obviously brewing when I paid £1.80 for a bottle of water and the guy wouldn't let me keep the cap...so yes, I argued..if I pay £1.80 for a bottle of water I want to put it in my bag and drink some later, so Give Me the Cap....no, against the rules....the Sia man took me to one side and said, 'Is there a problem ladies?' in his best SIA trained manner...and then explained to me, it's the fault of the police, they won't allow caps on bottles, cos some people, some nasty people, would fill the bottles with stuff I was far too nice a lady to know about, and use it as a missile and hurl it at the stage...oh that's ok then.

Later Jill bought a bottle of water from a different stand and the guy selling had obviously missed the training session on caps and bottles, let her keep hers on..we grabbed the bottle and ran like naughty school girls who had won a small but important victory..I was planning what I could fill the bottle with and throw it.....

The concert was good fun...the second half was televised so you may even have seen it! The boppy, hoppy, clap along stuff was ok, but a bit samey...Freedom was good..but when he sat on his little stool centre stage (pictured) and sang Jesus to a Child and Careless Whisper..well, that was what I came for really...

And Liz, he didn't fall asleep at the mic once.....

After, my son rang me, absolutely amazed that I had been at GM at the new Wembley Stadium, and I hadn't told him: wow, he was so impressed: now of all the things I do to try and impress my kids, this wasn't one of them: but I have dropped the fact that I was there into numerous casual conversations this week, and it has given me kudos around here, believe me....

Goodnight Wembley.. as 60,000 people wend their way to the tube station, slowly and safely, looked after by friendly stewards and horse mounted police...we made it.....

The First Festival of the Year....

Wychwood, beginning of June. First festival of the year..for me anyway. Third year....the first two years, it was small, just a couple of thousand people....actually didn't do a lot of work, a small team ran the front desk which was quiet as a mouse, and I got to see a lot of the festival and hear lots of good music.

This year, the festival grew to 5,000 and was much busier...the production desk was still very manageable, but those of us there to 'help out' got drawn into various other tasks....now would you want to buy a drink off either of thse guys...??











I got to do a two hour shift pulling pints - it was fun and a first!!! I didn't know what drink was what, what went with what, and if someone said, 'What ale do you recommend?' well......totally the wrong person!!!!! But people were kind and smiley as I learned to pull my first few pints, and I was soon doing it like a pro...sort of....I was suppsoed to do a five hour shift, but I managed to be let off after two hours..what with all the other work and miles of walking around the festival, my feet had had enough....

I went to see the Levellers, missed some by having to pull pints, then missed the rest by being called away to an emergency....on Sunday afternoon, took George to see Shooglenifty..magic...she tried to look as if she was enjoying herself, honest, but when I got called away to work she was only too happy to come too...saw Badly Drawn Boy, really liked him, bought the CD..in fact I DC and I went shopping and bought far too many CDs.....

Managed to lie on the warm grass in the sun on Sunday afternoon and catch the entire Eliza Carthy set..wonderful...and in the evening, saw the Afro Celt Sound System..wonderful, wonderful..I really, really wanted to dance, and join in, but my back, legs and feet by then would not allow it....

Enjoyed the weekend, but came back with a lot of thinking to do after various conversations with various people, including themes like..you should be more pushy..you should be more assertive..and the best, when someone had totally ignored me twice when introducing a colleague to another person and I was stood there too....(someone I know well..) the first time I said nothing, the second, I said (pushily and assertively but nicely..) 'I am here too.' 'Oh sorry' he said, 'But your colleague is so confident and cocky that you get overlooked.'

Now is that my problem or someone else's problem? I don't get overlooked in other areas of my life. I am not exactly invisible. I am not a shrinking violet. In work I am looked up to, respected, listened to, I am chatty, extrovert, confident as I run training courses, supervise volunteers..I have had to take myself into a corner and remind myself of who I am..when I recount the incident to friends, their response has been...this is not your problem..the other person is simply rude.

I don't want to get into competition with my friends for attention..but interestingly, the friend in question, cocky and confident, no names of course...did some work at the festival but not as much as me...actually went home for half of the festival and so wasn't actually there...on Sunday evening I was amused to witness quite a few people...well men, let's face it, come up to him, shake him warmly by the hand and thank him for all his hard work. And he lapped it up. I stood by and thought..well, you can get by with doing b*gger all (slight exaggeration) and not being there if when you are there, you are a cocky b*stard.....good job I am not a sensitive person isn't it?

Sorry, I said I wouldn't post angst ridden stuff......but it's interesting, isn't it?

Reason not to blog..number 132....

Thank you all for your concern and noticing my absence. Where have I been and why no blogs?


There is no one reason, rather a mixture.....before the wedding I had been quite depressed and had a lot of thigns going on, but really had to focus on the Big Day..which I did quite well...as one would expect, after, there is a bit of a low, but also a great deal of tiredness, and I just needed space and time, and..well, if you have nothing to say...lots of complex thoughts and feelings, a bit sad for someone my age I know....you would think I would be a bit more sorted, but no..and I didn't want to write endless depressing angst ridden blogs..sorry to disappoint....


I have also been as busy, if not more busy than I have been in a while: not long before Laura's wedding I took on the Admin for another festival which happens in September (more later) and there has been more work than I anticiapted! So instead of my laptop being my early morning and late night blog companion, it has instead been used for endless e-mails, minutes of meetings, chasing people, yes, actual work, which, trying to do it around a full time job has been taxing and tiring..but has also kept me busy which is probably a good thing....


So here I am back...will blog about the other stuff I have been up to..with pictures..real soon. Thank you for your love and patience....