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That was the week….

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What’s been occurring people?

I had an appointment this week for an echogram scan thingumy on the old ticker.  No need for alarm parent dudes – just an MOT.   This is what I do for a hobby now that I work part time – go for random medicals tests I’d never get chance to do if I was still working at school, because a granted Leave of Absence form only appeared every hundred years (like Brigadoon).

Of course, only I could be having a scan thing to check my heart rate when the frigging fire alarm goes off at St Lukes!  “Should I be worried about that alarm?” I asked, as I lay there covered in wires and stickers on my bare chest.  “No no, it’s fine says the nurse, we only need to worry if it changes pitch”.  I try to ignore the very loud alarm and keep a calm steady heart rate.  The alarm doesn’t stop so nurse says she’ll pop outside to check.  She draws the curtain around me and leaves me there as I listen to the shouts of people in the corridor yelling “Everybody out!”
If this was a horror movie I would have eventually unpeeled my stickers and unplugged myself from the machine and wandered outside to find everyone had been taken up by the rapture, beamed up by aliens or reduced to a zombified state.  I expected nursey to crash back into the room and eat my face off any second. 


When she did return I held my breath to see if she began to snarl but no, all was well and she continued with the examination asking if I was ok?  “Sure, cool as a cucumber” I replied with a whiff of sarcasm.
She dutifully carried on and finished the exam before allowing me to go.  Alarm still blaring, through the now empty corridors and out into the carpark, where I was greeted by about a hundred staff and patients all looking at me like I was a hostage being released from a siege.  (Before, you wonder – I had got dressed and wasn’t striding outside with hospital gown flaring open and bosom akimbo!)



Later in the week after a couple of days of horrendous rain and unseasonable cold it was eldest offspring’s Prom!  Even with fancy pants nails and hair (thank you Shona Louise Bradley at Natural Beauty and Gemma at Lil Gemz) we got off lightly expense wise.  No ludicrously expensive dress, fake tans, limos or house destroying after-party.
She looked just lovely in her mini dress and silver doc martens even though I am biased of course.  

I’m just glad it went well and she enjoyed herself and it is now over!  Now I can stop my mind running off course and imagining all sorts of horrors happening.  Terrorists deciding to strike a blow for their religion of choice by taking it out on a room full of 16-year-olds. Or disgruntled students plotting some ghastly revenge. Buckets of pigs blood. Telekinetic meltdowns, that sort of thing…


No prom queen crown but I think this award is probably better …


She’s meant to be going on some citizenship scheme thing on Sunday which we booked back in November for £20.  Essentially they all go off to Jonestown or Waco or similar with Jimmy Savile and Gary Glitter to learn how to plant vegetables, cook, paddle canoes, get washed downstream whilst being led by YTS volunteers and paedophiles, while we have paid for the privilege. 


All welcome…

This was meant to be some last hurrah for them all after their exams had finished and they parted to attend different Sixth Forms.  Naturally, being 16-year-old girls, their ideas have changed and some of them aren’t even speaking to each other. So she’s changed her mind and isn’t going.

I’m kind of glad TBH.  Then I don’t have to wonder if she’s being molested in her sleep in a hostel somewhere in Shrewsbury, or that the last we see of her is when she boards a bus before being shipped off to an eastern European sex slave cartel.


Kool-Aid anyone?

Meanwhile, the weather has changed and it’s been a scorcher.  Don’t be a dick – slap on some sunscreen and drink some water!

Ciao Ciao XX

in need of something but not sure what

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I was meant to be heading south this weekend to visit some pals and have a curry and some drinks.  There was even loose talk of getting hold of a “hot tug” and sailing it to Harlow, but I don’t think that came off.  Maybe next time, when it’s warmer.


Stock Photo from Google Images


As it goes, I haven’t gone.  I started with the snots when I got back from Chester over the Easter Weekend, which was awesome by the way (the Easter weekend in Chester – not the snots).
I also had a clairsentient gut feeling that I should stay home & leave it til another time.  I’ve learned it’s best to pay attention to these things, so here I am.  At home. In the rain. Not ever wanting to see another Easter Egg in a long time and feeling rather cross at why people can’t just commit to a long planned arrangement or answer a text from time to time in a civil, unfacetious fashion.

I know everyone has their own little lives and shit but FFS!




So what have I done instead?

    Ventured to Sadford Town to return a pair of silver Doc Martens.  Not mine I hasten to add.  Seems my eldest wants to go for the Gary Gliiter, Glam Rock aesthetic for her birthday this year.  It’s not ’til June, but these boots she wanted were on offer in Foot Asylum. 

Ordered them. They arrived.  But are neither the right size not the requisite shade of silver apparently.


Had one lovely spring-like day on Wednesday so ordered some new garden furniture.  Natch it has pissed down ever since.  Furniture currently clogging up the hallway and kitchen ready to be assembled.

Still no washing machine because the fucker needs yet more parts.  Bastarding Hotpoint.  ‘Oh we’ll replace your washer if it can’t be repaired’.  Repair dude just laughed at us and said that almost never happens.  It can be repaired….eventually….when he comes back for a third time on Wednesday.  That’ll be over 3 weeks since it initially broke.  I’m running out of neighbours to impose upon to wash my smalls, my mediums and my larges!

So anyway, the trip into Sadford, usually a cure-all when you’ve got the blues, did not help in any way whatsoever. It was like accidentally stumbling through the set of the Walking Dead.  Normally this type of thing makes me feel less inferior. Better about myself.  It could be worse etc.  Yesterday it just made me feel sad and full of gloom that I was doomed to die here. That I had failed as a mother and I had condemmed my offspring to a miserable life in a miserable place.

“Hello is that the Emergency St John’s Wort & Evening Primrose Oil hotline? I’d like to place an order please!”

The best part of the day was when I smuggled some tech into an allegedly haunted shop in my handbag, for a mini lone investigation, Sadly the recorder failed. Coinicidence? Supernatural? Or operator ineptitude?  You decide.  Either way, it had a most oppressive atmos (but did sell the most amazing bits, bobs, tat and oddments).  There was a man in there talking to the shopkeeper about his imaginary friends as she listened unjudgementally and with sound advice.   I may have found my spiritual home.


Boyes store however lit up my K2 device like a gay pride parade.  Too many mobiles on in the vicinity? Or it being so full of the elderly and infirm that the veil between this life and the next is ridiculously thin – the afterlife almost tangible through the smell of wee, lavender bags and the scent of decrepitude?  Again – you decide.


from Google Images


I didn’t want to be one of those olds.  Complaining in the cafe upstairs in Boyes that the tomato soup was sold out, or that so and so hadn’t turned up today and did they think she might have died over the weekend.
But I also felt like I was skidding quickly towards being one of those people (but with less friends).

This time last year we were in Orlando, yet it doesn’t seem two minutes since we were only just planning it and it was 18 months away!


Poss my fave pic from last year’s hol


Life is short.  Do stuff.  Fun stuff.  Sometimes wrong stuff.  But stuff. Be kind.  Be nice. Go out. Have fun. Make some memories to keep you warm when you’re waiting for death in a cafe above Boyes in Bradford and the soup is off and your mate hasn’t turned up.


                                         Gravitating towards the water, as per