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Tag Archives: sleep

and the rain slowly saps my life force away…

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We’ve gone from glorious late September sun, to utterly pissing it down and considering putting the heating on. I have felt my energy sapping today. Washed away down the drain like Georgie’s paper boat in ‘It’


There goes my energies

Bring on Halloween.


Today I have been mostly pondering how I managed to function in my former life on so little sleep.  I say little.  I slept enough back when I was working in school. But not to the extent that I do now that I don’t have to be at work at 8am. 
I get up to see that the Childerbeast have got up for school. I wave them off then lock the door behind them. I then slink back into bed for another couple of hours.  Yesterday, I didn’t. I stayed awake and got up and did stuff, and by the time it came to set off walking the 2 and half miles to work, I was like a zombie. I felt almost hungover.


Think Keanu may be onto something…

Today I sat in the bus shelter at the top of the road, waiting for the Morrison’s shuttle bus. It was late. Of course.  This is what I do now, when I’m not sleeping or in the pool. I wait for buses that never come, whilst listening to the same music over and over again on my MP3. (I keep forgetting to add new tunes and CBA with Spotify because despite my playlists, it keeps throwing randomness into the mix that I can’t get rid of because I am a technodunce). I watched the rain pour down while I ran over imaginary scenarios in my head and mentally berated myself for things I did or didn’t say/ did or didn’t do, decades ago.


After trailing around Morrisons, buying foodstuffs I probably don’t need, I waited again for the return shuttle bus, whilst people watching and pondering my life choices.  It looked a bit like this…

20190924_123639 (1)

I considered, as I stood under the shelter awaiting yet another late bus, whether to turn away from the blonde barnet in my older age and have a go at red again. But then thought I would probably end up looking like Myrtle Snow from American Horror Story.



Think I’ll stick with the blonde and eventually morph into some kind of Patsy Stone/Bubbles De Vere/Barbara Cartland character.

Right now the only reason I haven’t gone back to bed yet is because it’s Bake Off night so I’ll have to wait until 9 before crawling back into my pit.


If you too managed to survive another day. Well done you.  Have a cuppa to celebrate then get yourself off to bed to the sanctuary of your duvet. Then we’ll do it all again tomorrow.

G’night MoFos Xx

Lumps, wobbly titties & sick days.

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Oh!  What’s been occurring?

I’ll tell you.

Daughter Number 2 began manifesting the same weird itchy lumps her sister gets from time to time.  Both of them inherited from the paternal side.  I think if we looked back far enough on the old family tree, we’d find people paying a pretty penny to go and see Great Great Great Grandad Bman at a travelling freakshow.

“Roll up roll up and marvel at the amazing lumpy crustacean man with his freakish lobster claw hands.”

Well they don’t get it from me!

Trip to the quacks required and 3 bottles of snake oil cure-all from the chemist later and she is back to normal size.  In fairness, it was only her wrist that doubled in size, the others were just odd nettle rash type weals.


Last weekend we had a trip to SkegVegas, which was more than a little bracing.  A little too bracing for me to be honest.  I should have taken a thicker jumper but it was a beautiful spring day when we set off.  It’s the English coast.  What was I thinking?  Worth it though to catch up with the Boobatron.

No shit!!

No shit!!


We were highly entertained at having to pay 40p to get into Lincolnshire over a little bridge and what trip to the English seaside wouldn’t be complete without some quality tasteful souvenirs on full display in the store where your offspring decide to go and buy an ice-cream?


I’d rather have a flake in mine if you don’t mind



This place though had to win hands down for the best (hopefully ironic, but possibly not) window display right on the North Parade.


Day out at the beach.  Must remember to pick up some bleach and a Bombay Bad Boy. I may even treat myself to some new scourers.

Love it!


There’s been Acorn Antiques episodes aplenty down on the Farm which I’d rather not go into as it will just end up making me seeth anew!

** and breathe**

I have also been trying to resolve the issue of nobody having been to look round our house, which has been on the market now for almost 5 months.  It may be something to do with the fact that it’s easier to find a Malaysian airliner in the Southern Indian Ocean than it is to find our property for sale on the estate agent’s website!

I don’t think our personal agent has reckoned with having somebody with a modicum of computer knowhow on her case.  The sporadic nature of the property being advertised in the local paper and when and how it appears on Zoopla and RightMove is also perturbing.  It pops up sometimes, like a 3-bedroomed Brigadoon, then vanishes again at your next attempt at a search.  My house is screwing with me!  It does not appear to want to be sold.

On top of that, I have been off sick from the Farm for 2 days.  Biliousness during in the night (I’m pretty sure it’s a word) and utter exhaustion due to not being able to get back to sleep.
   The very fact of being off work, without childerbeast and being able to sleep has worked well and I don’t feel too bad at all now.  Good job really as I am meant to be meeting my mum for lunch tomorrow and Ma B on Sunday.  Mother’s Day weekend and no rest for this mummy. Strangely my sister has been ill too.  Maybe it’s a telepathy thing (or we’re both just feebs).