She's like the wind

How things change

2010-10-21T11:11:00.006+01:00

We went to Butlins last October and I decided it would be the decision making holiday - would I continue in business or would I give it up?

No decision was made as I went into relaxation mode and tried to forget about real life. My problem wasn't so much would I give it up it was what would I do? What could I do? I had more or less made my mind up that I did not want to continue working alone and in those baltic premises. I had thought I may find a part time job and continue with the business part time so the search for a part time job started in December 2010 and I plodded along.

On the 29th December 2010 the hubby and I took the kids into Glasgow to spend some Christmas money, we decided to go mad and have a pub lunch, instead of the usual McDonalds or Pizza Hut. I was becoming intolerant of people who called me on my mobile and stopped me in the street to ask about embroidery or school uniforms, when it gets to that stage you have to move on. As we sat enjoying a family meal my mobile phone rang and I rejected the call, it rang again and once more I rejected the call, when it wrung for the third time I answered it with a rather short HELLO! It was my neighbour at the unit telling me that I had a burst pipe in the unit and the water was p?$%ing out of the door and the roller shutter and it been like that for a few days. The poor kids were uprooted from their lunch and typically we were at one end of Glasgow and the car was parked at the other!

We arrived at the unit to be ankle deep in cold water, the mains pipe going into the water tank had frozen and burst away from the tank and was pouring clean water right through the toilet and cupboard ceiling.

You know it cracks me up, nobody could get a hold of me because they were phoning the shop phone and funnily enough I wasn't there! But the boy from the garage had been at my house to collect my car once, even the police couldn't trace me, they finally got my mobile number from my website.

I feel sick even just going over it again, but lets just say things happen for a reason and I believe that was one of those things.

An insurance claimed followed, talk about incompetent, if you were relying on them to get back into business you could forget it.

It was the coldest months ever and was I glad I had a flooded unit and couldn't got into those premises I would have died of frostbite, so I set about making an office in my converted loft. Did I tell you I had converted my loft, I'm not sure I must go back and check my posts!! January was fine, was still trading with the help of a local embroidery company but by the end of January I was starting top think OMG I'll have to get a job as I still had the shop bills but not very much income. So the serious job hunting began.....

to be continued

TEN MONTHS

2010-10-18T15:12:00.003+01:00

It has been 10 months since I last posted. I hang my head in shame! It will now take me months to catch up on what everyone else has been up to.

So what has prompted me to post?

Recently on the world of facebook after a period of absence even from facebook a 'friend' of mine said - and I quote 'U been quiet lately - she's like the wind! All ok?' Aaarrrrgggghhhhhh, mild panic set in, someone knows my blogging name, OMG my deepest thoughts and feeling are written here, my whole life displayed openly, do I bring the whole blog down? What to do!!

Now it wouldn't have been so bad if it was a life long friend or a close friend, I would have perhaps deleted one post, everything else would be known by close friends. This friend is a relatively new friend, perhaps by about 3 years now, but we have known each other for over 18 years. We became friends when she entered my shop for the second time to purchase nursery uniforms for her son and I bravely announced 'you know who I am?!' and we chated for about an hour, perhaps it was more, and to my surprise she was really, really nice and I felt like a pure bitch. Although we had known of each other all these years, we had never spoken, although I'm sure if I had taken to time to speak to her we may actually have become friends a long time ago. Perhaps she thinks differently??

After reading over some of my posts I decided that I actually was quite proud of my blog and that if she was brave enough to admit she had been reading it then I was brave enough to leave it. It made me miss blogging and want to post again. I actually thought I had been missed when I logged back on to find 42 comments - only to realise they are in chinese writing and in poor taste so I will have to delete them lol.

Now that I am 38 years old and have 2 children of my own, I am bitterly disappointed in myself that I was not able to be more grown-up 19 years ago, however, I am not responsible for another adults actions and I did what I thought was right at the time. I consider my friend to be a far better person than I am and I am grateful this person considers me her friend.

Over to you my friend.........

Self Employment V Employment

2009-12-18T15:04:00.004Z

As I sit here in my cold industrial unit, did I say cold, I actually meant BALTIC! I wonder, is there more to life? I have decided that yes there is, there must be.

Setting up in business was a great idea, it not only got me out of working in a call centre where I hated working, mainly due to one individual. I had been there for nearly 11 years and that was long enough, it also meant working during school hours and that suits my family just nicely. It is a small business but I have built up many contacts and a good customer base. In year one I made a loss, year 2 broke even, year 3 made a profit, year 4 I still have to put together the account and year 5, well I don't need accounts to work out that I have not made a profit. There are years when you have to lay out more money and don't get it back quickly, things like ties and special striped knitwear all have to be bought in bulk but can take years to sell. This year has been one of those years. I also noticed a cut back with the spending in parents, people who normally buy 3 polo shirts and 3 sweatshirts only bought two of each, that doesn't sound like much but that is an average cut back of £16.50 and you times that by 100 + customers and you are talking £1650 or so.

How long do you carry on without earnings before you admit defeat, let your loyal customers down. I am not ready to give up and I think that next year will be better on account of the fact I will have paid off a loan and binned some major advertising costs making me £400 a month better off. However, that does not help my current financial situation. Normally by now I have pre-ordered all my summer stock to arrive embroidered with the school logo's at the beginning of June, this year I have not, if I continue it will be an ordering service like it was at the beginning, I will carry no stock, apart from socks, tights, skirts etc which I sell on eBay anyway.

I am hoping to put the business on a back burner and get a part time job where it is warm, you get paid and you have the company of other people. I used to think there would be nothing worse than going back to work for other people but I am quickly changing my view.

Where has the time gone!!

2009-12-02T13:13:00.002Z

Where have I been, perhaps you wondered, perhaps you missed me or perhaps you didn't care! I would like to give you a fabulous story about where I've been and how I'm having a great time, but honestly - I found Facebook, went to Fuerteventura for 2 weeks in the summer, sold school uniforms and went to Butlins in the October school week.

That's it!!

I have neglected my blogging for Facebook and now I need to pour my heart out where do I go, to my many friends on Facebook, of course not, I don't actually want anyone who knows me to know my business, but I will pour my heart out to complete an utter strangers!

Breaking in gently before I rant and will work my way around hopefully catching up on what some of you have been up to. xx

Wii Fit

2009-03-17T10:57:00.002Z

I'm back on track after yesterday.

This morning I managed 10 minutes freestyle stepping which means I can watch the TV and step to the beat on the Wii remote, managed to answer the phone which luckily was near me and still step. Go me! Then did a long distant jog which is probably about 5 mins and then managed the 2 minute hula hooping. 20 minutes of exercise clocked up before coming to work. I am the woman. Last week I could only do one of these activities before feeling like I might pass out.

Still haven't had a packet of crisps or a chocolate bar/chocolate biscuit and I'm not really missing them now, it has only been 6 days but it just shows how your cravings subside, although I have eaten my way through a massive box of Rice Krispies instead. I still feel tired when I wake up but then I have had a sore throat and pressure headache for a few days so perhaps that will go eventually and I'll get out of bed like the girl in the Adios advert (I think it's for Adios!!), only I won't have wee short knickers and a vest top on, I'll be the one with the fleecy pj's and bed socks skipping down the street.

I'm on the top of the world.

2009-03-13T13:59:00.002Z

'Today I feel normal'

It's a strange saying but that is how I feel, normal, quite uplifted and happy, well not so much happy but content, at peace with the world. I get very few days like this, I very often have an underlying sadness which I've spoken about before and when it lifts I feel good.

Perhaps it's the change in the diet and the little bit of exercise. I haven't had a packet of crisps or a bit of chocolate since I tried on those bikinis and I have cut out my breakfast & supper toast and replaced it with cereal, with a sprinkle of sugar as I might murder someone without a little sugar in my diet. I know sugar is not something that should be taken while trying to improve ones figure but I know from experience it is the stodge that makes the belly.

I did 20 minutes on the Wii Fit this morning, 10 mins stepper and 3 minutes hula hooping and then I had a few games of the table tilt, couldn't resist and it's all in the aid of fitness, I love the Wii Fit. Couldn't face a wee jog on the spot after the hula, I used to be great at the hula but these love handles must be affecting my swivel. Thought I should vary the exercise daily and the good thing about the Wii Fit is being able to weigh yourself and I am lighter on the Wii Fit than I am on the house scales, but then it's not actually about weight on this occasion it's about being firmer and more toned and about others on holiday looking at me and saying 'Wow, I wish I was so toned and sexy and had those huge pert boobs and flat belly' and making heads turn..... and not having people thinking 'oh look she must be on a second marriage with older children and now she's having another' or 'bet that wasn't planned!'

Hope the motivation keeps up because I like it and the world is a brighter place when you are 'normal' I have held my head high, I have smiled at people and they have smiled back, I had a laugh with a man in the queue at the post office. Isn't it usually the case when we feel like this that something comes BANG and you're brought back down to earth.

When are you due?

2009-03-12T12:43:00.003Z

We went on holiday to Fuertaventura in June 2007 and we are returning in June 2009. Now in 2007 it had been 5 years since we had been abroad and we had to buy everything, holiday clothes, cases, swim wear, renew the passports - everything. I did not have one item of summer clothing, namely due to the fact I sell school uniforms and work all summer in a cool unit in jeans and a polo shirt. It was not cheap. I bought new white bras so that when the straps showed they would be pristine as there is nothing worse than a greyish bra on show, especially if you play these games in the hotel where the kids run back to the entertainer with items such as straws, shoes, socks, bras, I like my kids to win you understand!

Anyway I have this issue which costs me more money than most and that is my bra size, I am very thin under the bust, taking a 30" bra, however with that comes the hindrance of FF cups, I can't just nip to Asda and buy a bra at £5.00, my bra's have to be Clyde built and cost in the region of £20-£24, so you can imagine a couple of new bras not to mention the bikini which has to be under wired to stop my boobs from falling out underneath and you're spending a hundred pounds easily. So in 2007 I was like the poor relation and only had 2 bikini's with me compared to the then 7 year old who had about 5. So this year now that I have an array of summer clothes and only need to buy some new tops and of course kit out the growing kids, maybe some new shoes and then there's the case that will have to be replaced as it broke last time, anyway now that I have summer clothes I thought I would treat myself to a couple more bikinis and of course the white bras need replacing. I went to my favourite place...... eBay, where I can get Panache separates at competitive prices, so I ordered myself a fuchsia pink bikini, a jade and pink halter neck bikini and a tankini top with hidden bra, that matches the bottoms that I already have, sorted.

The bikini's arrived and I was excited to try them on, getting in the holiday spirit 3 months in advance. Well there is nothing like trying on a bikini to start you on a healthy eating and exercise regime! I have now and have always had a rather nice pregnant shaped belly, about 5 months I'd say and comes from eating far too much bread/wheat. When ever I shed my layers of winter clothing and wear a tight fitting top which shows off my voluptuous bust, clings to my thin torso and then bang, out sits this belly. When are you due, you're such a lovely shape? one very nice lady asked me. My response was polite but none the less embarrassing for the other party! And you know I am ok with strangers thinking I am pregnant because that's exactly the shape I am. However, after pulling out the full length mirror to have a look at myself in the new bikinis I realised I have also gone and gotten myself a pair of love handles, my daughter well she just laughed at the sight of her mother in a bikini and trailed with me to see what the hubby and 11 year old son thought, the hubby God bless him was just happy to see a bit of flesh and my son, he raised his eyebrows with a hint of 'Oh my God' in his eyes. I was then glad I bought the tankini at least it'll cover me up a bit, that's a laugh, took me and the 9 year old about 5 minutes to get me into it. I'm sot sure if you're all familiar with these but they have a mess lining which forms the fully under wired bra and have a bra style clip inside at the back for secure fastening, no chance of wobbling about in this baby. Being a 30" fit it's great but that's equivalent to about a size 6 and trying to get that over these knockers wasn't the easiest, we decided the best plan of action was to haul the bra bit down first, done and what a sight, turquoise mess covered massive mamma's, fastened the back, done and now all to do was get the rest of the top over the mamma's so with the daughter pulling down the back and me at the front we managed, being this tight should keep the belly in, POP not a chance just emphasized all the thin bits and made the belly even more pregnant pod shaped!

So in disgust with immediate effect I will not eat 7 slices of bread a day, all those cakes I have eaten on those lonely winter nights have definitely had an effect and must be stopped and then of course there's the chocolate, I don't drink, unless I'm going out which is rare at the moment, so the hubby will buy himself some beers and buy me chocolate to have with my nice cup of tea, oh no, no more, I will not let this belly take over my life. I am fit, I am healthy, I have a flat stomach that is going to be my positive mindset for the near future.

I only started yesterday and even managed 15 minutes on the Wii fit this morning before coming to work, 5 minutes step and 10 minutes jog on the spot, nearly passed out when I finished as I have done no physical exercise for months and months, obviously, think perhaps I might need to do some sit ups, or if you know of any other painless methods for achieving a flat stomach please do share with the groups

I may take some pictures!! If I can face it.

Jen The Fish

2009-03-06T15:43:00.004Z

Lovingly picked on the 18th May 2002 by a five year old for his birthday we have spent years thinking it’s about time she popped her clogs, my mum and I joked on Sunday with some friends about the goldfish I have had for nearly 7 years, her water is changed rarely and she often lives in 2 inches of completely manky water. I am not ashamed, however, as I had visitors coming to my house for the first time** last Sunday I felt it only right to change the water, really only so that wouldn't talk about me after they left. My mum saw fit to announce 'I see the fish has fresh water!' We laughed about the time the fish had a near death experience and I decided to change the water and let it die with dignity, albeit a bit late after living for years without any, I discovered a 5p had dropped into the bowl and had obviously been poisoning the poor girl. She came back to life within minutes of being placed in new fresh non toxic water. I knew changing the water would one day kill her, a shock to the system, although I expected a heart attack and to find her floating on her side at the top of the water. I did not expect to get up one morning and find her missing completely! Today was that day.

My version of events
It was a morning like any other but as soon as I entered the kitchen I knew instinctively that something wasn’t right, the splatter cover (being a splatter cover used to cover a frying pan, a clean, unused one, a temporary measure you see) that had protected Jen from the cats was lying on the worktop and as I looked through bleary eyes there was no sign of the fish, the bowl was empty. After putting in my eye drops and having slightly clearer vision I checked again, definitely no fish. I assumed the worst, TIA (the 11 month old kitten) had eaten the fish. But amusingly she was still looking in the bowl for the fish, I always thought she was a bit thick! After a phone call with the hubby I discovered Tia had not eaten the fish – Phew I hear you say, but no, it’s worse than that.

The hubby's version
I got up, bleary eyed like the wife, glasses in hand and felt something wet and slimy underfoot at the top of the stairs, for your information I’m no lightweight, I assumed the cat had been sick, again – but after closer inspection realised it was the fish, yes at the top of the stairs!! I collected it in a food bag, it had a little slit on its tummy and no tail, cause of death appears to have been lack of water. I put it in an empty ice cream tub for inspection by the wife and weans.

Tia’s version
Oh what a night!!! Been stocking the gold moving thing in the clear water for about a week now, there has been a lot of talk about a ‘fish’ It has amused me darting back and forward, teasing me with it’s big eyes, I waited until all was quiet, the big cat had gone out for the night and I finally managed to get the cover off ‘the fish’ took me ages to get it out of the water and onto the worktop, the place was covered in water by the time I was finished, it flapped and flipped and what a great time we had playing together, I took it into the hall to play some more but it wasn’t much fun to play with now as all the flipping and flapping had stopped and it had no tail to grab onto, think I might have swallowed that! Not sure what the traces of red are on the floor but Windy will clean that up later, she's always cleaning. I know what I’ll do, I’ll leave it at the top of the stairs for the fat man to stand on and he can put it back in the bowl and we’ll start the game again.
Everyone is up now, nobody is speaking to me and making a fuss like normal, murderer seems to be the word of today, keep dipping my paws in the water and I’m not even getting a row. Where is that bloody fishy thing!

I was frightened to look in the ice cream tub, but there she was wrapped carefully in a food bag, the only evidence was a little slit along her tummy, presumably from a claw, I didn't notice her tail was missing the way the bag was wrapped. I thought she might have been half eaten, but she obviously wasn't to Tia's taste. My daughter wanted to bury her, but we have mono block everywhere, then she suggested flushing I wasn't keen as that would involve taking her out the bag so I said she might not flush, they didn't want to bin her as she might get squashed - I hadn't told them about the 'fat man incident' so they decided we could bin her if she remained in the ice cream tub, this would save her from being squashed you see. So that was it.

Must let the cat out more.

**I would like to point out that it is not the first time I have had visitors, but the first time these particular visitors have visited!!

Only one more moan - I promise

2009-02-11T13:03:00.004Z

I was going to fill you in about my loft ....but....I have one more moaning, feeling sorry for myself post and then I promise to move on! I have to say I feel better today than I did yesterday. Today is my Gran's birthday and she would have been 87, which worryingly means I'm going to be 37 on my next birthday, did I tell you we have 25 years exactly between our generations, I don't think I've shared that before. My Gran was 25 when she had my mum, who is an only child, my mum was 25 when she had me, an only child and I was 25 when I had my son and then buggered up the proceedings by having a second child at the age of 27. So when my Gran's birthday comes around it's always a reminder that in 3 months time, all be another year nearer to 40!

Anyway, I'll tell you a sneaky wee bit about the loft, we have had it converted into a room, well really an office for me and with the hubby being made redundant I decided we would use what paint we had in the house rather than spending money that we didn't have to. We had a huge bucket of Dulux white, which was nearly empty and a huge unopened bucket of B&Q value white, so I decided white it was, I started with the dulux to use it up and when it was finished went onto the value paint, well that didn't go down to well as I quickly realised I would need at least 4 coats to match up with the Dulux coated walls, none the less I soldiered on and thought that would do an undercoat. I spent the weekend glossing and emulsioning. Yesterday when the kids came home from school I took them to their favourite place, B&Q, NOT and we purchased descend Dulux paint. After our rapid B&Q visit we went to visit Granny's grave. The ground was covered in snow, I am delighted to report we had our snow on Sunday/Monday, I bit more descend this time and the kids were off school with colds. sore throats and upset stomachs, but I made them go out and play in the snow, so out they went like Michelin men and had a great time. So anyway the kids decided to clear the snow from the ground over Granny and by the time they had walked around and shovelled snow with their hand the graveside looked like a dogs dinner. My mum is going to visit today and I can imagine her face when she sees the state of the ground, thinking someone has been prancing over her mother! In days gone by my Granny would have raised her eyebrows at such a 'mess' but if her great-grandchildren had done it then that would be absolutely fine, they could do no wrong! Granny's aaahhh

Now I am not adverse to painting I find it quite calming and therapeutic, however, it leads to thinking, I have spend hours and hours in that loft, painting and thinking, thoughts non stop running through my head and this makes me sad, empty and lonely. I am lonely and sad on the inside and I need a good laugh. On Saturday night the hubby and I are going to go for something to eat and then go to the pictures, something we haven't done for ages. Hoping mum will take the kids overnight to her house. Fingers crossed. A change of scenery that should do me good and perhaps a mad, rampant 5 minutes wouldn't go a-miss either!!!

SAD

2009-02-06T15:01:00.003Z

I have to say I'm quite disappointed with our weather on the outskirts of Glasgow, while the rest of the country have struggled in inches of snow we had nothing more than a flurry, well perhaps at best 2 inches on Wednesday evening. I watched the weather warnings with delight and the thought of being snowed in and not being able to get to school and work did fill me with excitement, wrapping up warm and playing outside with the children, perhaps even sledging in the park, although we often have the weather bad the snow never lasts long enough and my children have never been on a sledge, well apart from in the back garden. And what did we get, a miserable 2 inches and a wind that would cut you in two!! What a sham.

I've needed a right good kick up the backside this week, I have done nothing all week, the hubby leaves at 8.30am and is not home until 10.30pm ish, the kids have been fine going about their business and I have drunk tea, watched TV and eaten cakes every night, I did put on a couple of washings and over 3 nights I managed to change 2 beds, I did it in stages you see! There wasn't anything in particular wrong with me, I thought perhaps I was coming down with something and I gave in straight away. But no I definitely think SAD has gotten hold of me and you should see the spots I've got with eating all these cakes, hell mend me! I was going to give myself a stern talking to but then I decided what the hell, I'm sure I'll come out of it in my own good time.

It's my Granny's birthday on Wednesday, her first birthday that she will not be with us for. My Granny now faces a retail park after being buried in the wrong plot and for years M&S have been trying to open a simply food store there, the problem being it is a retail park and the terms are you have to be selling ............, the word escapes me, but they sell large items i.e. carpets, white goods etc etc and M&S simply food did not qualify, however after years of battling it was announced last year that M&S had been granted permission and they would open early 2009, that then became early February and last week it was confirmed it will be opening on Wed 11th Feb, my Granny's birthday and I think she would approve, she always thought it would be great to have M&S close by, well she couldn't get one any closer.

While on the subject of dates, everybody has something that means something to them, be it a special number, colour and for me it's dates, is it a coincidence or does it have true meaning, take our special date 17th May;

I was born on 17th May 1972, I got engaged on the 17th May 1995, got married on 17th May 1996, these were planned obviously but then I spent my first wedding anniversary and 25th birthday on 17th May 1997 in labour from 6am in the morning, well that wasn't real labour, although it did appear so at the time being a labour virgin, before my son finally made his appearance at 1.08am on the 18th May, that was not planned, lazy bugger was due on the 7th!! my daughter was born in December 1999 and is always a little bit RAGING in May when we all have a connection and she has nothing. In our area the Holy Communions are always in June, either the 1st or 2nd Saturday but last year they brought them forward and of course you guessed it the 17th May, her day out shone our connections. We assumed they would now be in May as the local areas are all May, but no this year my niece is on 13th June! And now a 'Markies' is opening on my Gran's birthday. Coincidence or not?

I was actually going to tell you about my loft but I got side tracked so I'll keep that for next time. Duh!

There is hope!

2009-02-03T09:46:00.003Z

I am delighted to say that the hubby has secured a job for 13 weeks with the same company. I am of course happy but what a carry on. Made redundant but at the same time advised that there was a vacancy for a 13 week project doing the same thing, with the same company but in Kirkcaldy which is 1hr & 15 min drive from our house. There was 8 guys put in for the job and fortunately the hubby secured it so he was made redundant on Friday and started the new project on Monday. We are hoping by the time this project ends that the company will have picked up and perhaps there will be more projects.

Fingers crossed.

Redundancy. It's offical!

2009-01-29T11:56:00.002Z

Well it's official the hubby is being made redundant tomorrow at 11 o'clock and what a palaver to be made redundant. He works night shift, well it's a sort of twilight shift 8pm to 4am and had to attend a meeting last Friday morning at 11 o'clock to confirm that it was most probable that his position would be made redundant, he was given a letter and told to return on Tuesday. Another night shift, another 11 o'clock meeting on Tuesday to confirm that yes he was going to be made redundant at the end of the month, that being Friday! He will carry out his final shift tonight and attend a further meeting at 11 o'clock tomorrow to have the redundancy confirmed. Three meetings all amounting to the same thing, redundancy - what's that all about!!!

Full of woe

2009-01-26T11:58:00.004Z

Everyday in my life is similar, I wake up tired as a result of not going to bed early enough, I stumble through the morning routine of getting the kids to school and myself to the shop. I come home and start the afternoon routine, tidy up AGAIN, homework, dinner, bath time, bed time, more tidying, washing, hanging to dry, tea & toast & 30 mins me/TV time and back to bed. I survive, I plod and I'm sure I'm not alone.

Over the last few weeks I have been calmer, the Triple P is going well and I am enjoying my children, when they were young I appreciated every little thing they did, cherished every word they said but as they get older and more independent and grow with me it has all became a routine of who goes where and when and life is timed to suit the children and accommodate the hubby's night shift. Having started the Triple P programme it has quickly become apparent that spending time with my children is far more important than any cleaning, washing or ironing and I seem to have forgotten that for a while and now that it's been brought to the fore front of my mind I have spent time watching them play together, fight together and just staring at them, like you do when they first arrive in the world, stare in complete disbelief that one can produce such a beautiful being. I feel so much love and yet so guilty for forgetting to appreciate my children every minute of every day.

Last weeks Triple P meeting, which was cut short on account of the room being so cold and nobody being able to work the heating! was about praise, apparently after last weekends Wii ban which resulted in the kids playing nicely for hours together I should have gone up to see them and told them how happy I was that they were playing together nicely and given them loads of attention for the nice behaviour, but instead - don't tell anyone - I thought, thank God for the peace. Again I'm sure I'm not alone, everyday "I TOLD YOU TO HANG UP THE UNIFORM" I'd say and the day they hang it up, what do I say - nothing - because I expect it, I've only been asking for about a year. But now I am clear "thank you for hanging up your uniform today" I say. My son then thinks mum likes this behaviour and will repeat it, amazing and simple, complete common sense and yet rarely practised. I believe I have brought up my children well and these are just little niggley things that on the grand scale of things don't really matter but I want to give them the best possible start in their journey of life, giving them hope, aspiration and the ability to cope generally.

The next project is some time with the hubby, again we plod along and don't make time for us. We will have a few plans to make and discuss as he was advised on Friday 'it is more than likely his position in his company will be made redundant in the near future' he has been with the company for just over a year. In Sept/Oct 2007 we went through this and he managed to secure a job with this company and now we find ourselves in the same position. There is another consultation meeting tomorrow and he will find out the situation. My hubby is an electrician's mate and has been for approx 15 years, he is currently working on the Clydesdale banks carrying out refurbishments but with the current banking situation they are no longer spending money which results in the job loses in his company for anyone who has been with the company for less than two years. I am not going to worry as there is no point, but every where I turn there are job loses and it's not only on the news its all around us locally. Luckily the hubby will do anything. I am going to keep everything crossed that for some reason he will be indispensable and remain with the company.

Just when you think you're in control, emotionally stable and plodding along quite nicely some big bastard comes along and knocks you to the ground. I know what's for you won't go by you but blow me;

an alcoholic father

a stressed mother as a result of said alcoholic father

homeless at 17 as a result again of said alcoholic father

a mental sister-in-law

redundancy for the hubby in 2007

my Granny going through TB, pneumonia, a broken hip, dementia and latterly being buried in the wrong grave.

and now more redundancy

against

marriage and relatively happy at that

two beautiful and clever children

a nice average house

a nice average car

being self employed thanks to supportive hubby

So what's going on? I must have been bad in a previous life. I am always grateful for what I have and there are people much worse of than me and for that I count my blessings but today I feel sad and just a little bit cheated.

There' a new mum on the block

2009-01-20T11:20:00.004Z

I have felt a less stressed person since my Gran died, not that I had to do anything latterly but I was stressed about how I'd cope with her death, stressed about how my mum was coping and would cope with her death and now that it's all over I feel an overwhelming calm, this is therefore a good time to do my Triple P programme as the kids are calmer due to my calming influence and it's a new year etc etc.

So on Friday night I sat with the kids and explained the programme was to help me to deal with 'issues' in a calm manor and there was to be no shouting from any of us, we all have to respect each other and listen and decide on consequences.

We agreed the first stage for my son was to do as he was asked, when he was asked, I would give clear instructions so that he had no doubt about what I was asking. My daughter has to stop speaking like a baby while in moaning mode and I, when asked, have to stop and see what they want to show me. I'm sure every parent does this, you're in the middle of cleaning out the bin, sweeping the floors and juggling the dinner all to a timescale and a child shouts 'come and see this mum' only to be snapped with 'I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF BLAH BLAH BLAH' and then the moment is gone and yet we expect kids when they are playing their favourite game to stop to do something boring like eat or bathe. Usually whatever they wanted to show you only takes a split second. It has to work all ways, we also agreed to listen, again usually one child gets caught shouting or arguing and they get a row only to discover that it wasn't their fault so we have agreed to take turns to justify ourselves in a clear and concise manor.

We decided consequences would be 10 minutes off TV/PlayStation/Wii/PSP/DS etc etc or sent to their rooms for 10 minutes, if it was a serious matter I'm not sure what'll happen as we are taking one stage at a time. My kids are actually thriving on this and so far, so good.

Although I have had to repeat myself over the weekend, I have done so with confidence 'I have asked you once to go and clean your teeth, I am now asking you again and if you don't there will be a consequence' and off they toddle. The most major dispute was over the Wii as my son was not winning and he doesn't like to lose, he was playing the PSP at the same time, I entered the room after hearing the commotion, allowed them to take turns to explain the situation, my son was barred from the Wii, banned for 10 minutes from the PSP and after a bit of attitude was sent to his room for 10 minutes, this was short, sharp consequence, allowing him to cool off, my daughter to continue the fun and me not having to listen to the arguing. I didn't shout once, my daughter got fed up on the Wii after 5 minutes anyway, once the 10 minutes was up I allowed my son to come downstairs, he decided he had found better things to do in his room and was then joined by his sister and they played together for ages, brilliant, I am the woman!!

It's all so obvious and yet so easy to put in place, as a result of the good behaviour, my daughter had her friend to play after school yesterday and my son has a friend today, normally I don't plan in advance because I'm too stressed and obsessed by timescales. I have also decided if I carry out one chore a day then I've done my bit and shouldn't beat myself up about the fact I didn't do that, that and that! I praise myself on achieving that one chore. On Saturday, the weather was nice and bright and I cleaned all the downstairs windows/conservatory, washed all the floors, did loads of washing and changed one bed and tidied, tidied, tidied. My friend called at 4.50pm to say she was thinking of coming over for a quick visit after dinner and I nearly put her off as I still had on my pyjamas, what? I was cleaning. But I decided after all that cleaning then she should come as life's too short to put friends off. Reluctantly I pulled on some clothes!

All I want from this course is for my children to feel safe and secure and know that they can talk to me about anything and hopefully I'm going about it in the right way.

Triple P

2009-01-16T10:45:00.005Z

In desperation to have a bit of me time I have enrolled in a Positive Parenting Programme, commonly know as 'Triple P.' It is run by the local authority and runs for 6 weeks, every Wednesday night for 2 hours and it's free. It is, as the name suggests, to help you with positive parenting, therefore getting the best relationship with your children and hopes to end the majority of screaming and shouting and repeating ones self several times before screaming and shouting at ones children in order to get them to carry out a simple tasks.

The first meeting was on Wednesday and there were 5 mothers with one to start next week, it was a good size group but I couldn't help be disappointed by the lack of numbers, the programme was open to all parents at the school and I'm sure the ones who could actually do with it were insulted at the mear suggestion they may not be good positive parents. I, on the other hand, was delighted with the idea of becoming the best parent that I can be. I came home armed with a workbook, which apparently will become my bible and a questionnaire, the same questionnaire will be completed once the course has finished to see if, sorry, what the differences are!

My children are actually very good and they certainly know the difference between right and wrong, my issues are simple and brought on by my actions and now I need to rectify these issues, my issues are as follows;

My son, age 11

Lazyness - he is in Primary 7 and only this year have I decided that he should hang up or deal with his own uniform after school. Previously I would have gone upstairs with him, picked out a change of clothes and as he striped I would hang up the uniform or put it in the washing. Now he has to make these choices for himself. And yet everyday I go upstairs to close the windows and the curtains and there it is, the uniform lying over his chair and his answer 'but I left it neatly!' my response then varies depending on the time of the month but always starts with 'but I don't want you to leave it over the chair rant rant rave blah blah BLAH' If it does make it to the washing basket everything is left in a ball as he took it off, he only does this when he can't be bother to hang the clothes up, 9 times out of 10 they're not even dirty. But is there a conscequence for this lazyness, apart from the ranting NO, so what clear message am I giving my son? The message is it's fine to leave your clothes on the chair because the ranting will start, be over in 3 minutes and then the women will do it herself anyway!! So this is our first rule to sort out and I have to give clear instructions, with specific timescales and a conscequence if the action/rule is not carried out. AND I MUST NOT SHOUT. This does apply to other things, I'm not just obsessed by the hanging up of the uniform you know.

I now have to decided on a realistic conscequence. Short, sharp, conscequences are the thing, such as the TV going off for 10 minutes! Grounding for the rest of his life is not the answer.

My daughter - age 9

Whinging & talking like a 3 year old while answering back - my daughter doesn't take the hint in public, you know the huge wide piercing eye one that all mothers have the ability to do, my son will stop immediately, but my daughter she carries on regardless, touching, arguing, I trying saying her name sternly, through gritted teeth and she goes on and on in a high pitched 3 year old tone, not that she behaved like that when she was 3, I think I had control then. This then results in her being put back in the car or taken to a quite corner of the shopping centre and once more I find myself ranting 'I'm sick of this behavour, you're behaving like a baby, I can't take you anywhere blah blah BLAH.' And again is there a conscequence, NO, gone are the days where children are afraid of their parents and I mean in a respectful way.

I would have been frightened of getting a row from my mum as it upset me, it seems now I am so used to ranting like a mad women that the kids pay no attention.

So the plan is to sit the kids down and explain the new rules and what I expect from them and likewise what they expect from me, we will agree the conscequences together and take it from there. No ranting, no mad woman, only conscequences.

Sounds like the perfect positive household.....

We'll see how long it lasts!

PS. I have just noticed this is my 100th post - yeah me!

Does any one else watch The suite life of Zack & Cody or is it just me that's sad enough to use children's TV characters phrases?? If you don't watch it, don't worry you don't need to know what I'm talking about.

And finally...............

2008-12-22T11:59:00.002Z

The lady owner of 288 has released the rights to the plot. She visited last Monday and through the tittle tattle of the monumental sculpture we discovered she has got herself another plot in the old part of the cemetery next to some other family members and she is delighted, apparently there were no lairs left in the old part when she bought her lair and since the expansion and release of all the new plots some lairs in the older part were exchanged. We are just happy it is all settled in time for Christmas, the headstone was re-erected as soon as she confirmed the release of the plot.

I have yet to go and see it as I've had a sick boy, I am fighting of the first signs of flu, have fallen out with the hubby because he upset me and have been ignoring him for the last 2 days and 3 nights and so I am feeling slightly fragile, slightly fragile that's a laugh, I am a walking emotional time bomb and fear a visit to the cemetery will flood the whole of Glasgow for Christmas.

I have ordered a wreath to take on Christmas day so I will have to face my fear by then.

I'm off now or the great flood may start sooner than expected.

Merry Christmas and a happy new year to you all. xx

The never ending story

2008-12-09T12:50:00.002Z

I finished the last post.....

'yours emotionally mended'

I spoke too soon, I should know better!

My mum received a letter on Friday to confirm the monumental headstone had been erected at my Granny's grave. This for me was the final symbol and full blown confirmation that my Granny has passed and her grave marked, I would have to do the next visit to the grave alone for emotional reasons. My mum promptly visited the cemetery on the way to my house to watch the kids after school that day and was disappointed to see no headstone was erected, she went to the monumental sculptures unit and it was closed, typical! The next morning she called the monumental sculpture and he confirmed the headstone was indeed erected and perhaps she had been at the wrong grave, my Gran's grave is the only unmarked one next to the path so that was highly unlikely. My mum doubting her sanity again visited the cemetery and it definitely wasn't there, she visited the monumental sculpture who confirmed they had checked that morning after speaking with her and it's definitely there. They visited together and my mum stopped at the graveside as he walked right by her onto the grass and pointed at the headstone diagonally opposite where my gran was buried, 'plot 228' he confirmed 'yes' said my mother feeling the colour draining from her body, 'but my mother's buried over here' my granny owns plot 228, the plot her headstone has been erected, but she has been buried in plot 288.

The emotional turmoil we have been through over the weekend has been horrendous, luckily we were pretty sure due to the depth the grave had been dug to that it was indeed a new lair. We had unanswered questions and were anxious.....

would she need to be moved?
but she's not in the plot she chose!
if she's moved, the funeral has been a farce and would there need to be another?
as if she's not gone through enough!
as if we've not gone through enough!

We had an anxious wait until Monday morning. My mother received a phone call from the graveyard supervisor 'Don't worry she won't need to be moved and don't worry about the paper work we have everything on our records' was he suggesting we keep the lair certificate we have and when the owner of 288 needed to be buried they would simply use our plot 228, nobody would ever know the difference - aye right! My mother went right to his boss, who also confirmed there was no need to move her and they would contact the owner of the plot. He was proactive and confirmed they had somebody going to visit the elderly lady to explain the situation and offer her a swap or any other plot of her choice but we would have to give her time to consider. Can you imagine how she must feel, it's invasive, someone else's mother in your grave!

Fortunately it was a new lair and there were no other occupants or her body would have to have been exhumed, with paperwork to the home office for permission. I have got over the upset of her not being in the final resting place of her choice as to move her would be far worse and I know there are far worse situations in the world, but of all the things we did in the 9 days after she died to make sure everything was done as nicely as possible for a good send off, never for one minute did we think about checking the plot was the right number!

For everyones information, plot numbers are always etched on the side of headstones so you can see what plot number is next to you for confirmation. Interesting info given by the monumental sculpture while he tried to make it noted he had got everything right.

I personally hold responsible the gravedigger who did not double check the number and coinsidently only 228 & 288 were the 2 unmarked graves left in that area. But a little bit of me holds the undertaken responsible you would think they would also check.

We eagarly await confirmation that the other owner will release her right to that plot. If not then it's a legal battle, one I gather we would win as exhuming is a last resort.

Rest in peace - that's a bloody laugh!

Emotions

2008-12-05T14:57:00.003Z

I started my 'journey' in October 2007 after my dear friend's father died and I had to attend his funeral. I say 'had to' because it was the right thing to do, I would have chosen not to, but the hubby said I 'had to, it was my friend and it was only right.' I don't want to recap completely but the journey started due to my complete devastation at dealing with other peoples death, being in a worst state than the family themselves lead to embarrassment and therefore I avoided funerals at all costs. Having laid out my life story for all to read, my being an only, lonely child and having an alcoholic father and a very interesting evening with medium, I realised through my 'journey' that I was grieving, grieving for my father who chose alcohol over me and subsequently died when I was 19 in 1991. I only stared grieving in 2001 when my father paid me a visit through a medium, a friend, a person who does this for free, there was no con. I have now come to the conclusion that is why I get myself into such a state because I am expressing my own bottled up grief. I promised the medium I would write him a letter, a letter about me from me, detailing how I feel about his love for beer and whisky over me, she pointed out quite clearly this should not be about others, purely about me and my feelings. It was right she should point this out as I automatically think about how my mum as a mother must have felt and how she feels now, on her own, without having ever found love again or even a companion. The words the medium said to me that night, I believe, started the grieving process. 'Write the letter and he will heal you' she said, those words have rung in my head for over 7 years now, I didn't know I needed healing until that point and I have felt sad and empty ever since. The post before I was ready to write the letter was written and the next step was to write it, I felt ready, I knew exactly what I wanted to and needed to say and then the sad and empty feeling left and all of a sudden the letter didn't seem important, it was as if writing my whole life story down was enough. Everything had been said.

My life has changed again since the death of my granny and in a more positive way. I suppose anyone who has dealt with the death of an elderly relative must feel like this but for me it's a revelation. It has been 3 years since we cleared her house and she went into the home and at that point I naturally started grieving, grieving for the woman that once was and then spent the rest of the time dreading the day she dies and yet when that day came she was so old and frail and ill that it was an absolute blessing and I no longer felt worried about the grief because it was such a relief and now, silly as it may sound, I feel that she can be with me once again in spirit and I am comforted by that. I was also comforted by the cards and kind words that people wrote to me, I have had to leave shops on occasions when trying to buy a card with nice words because I get all emotional and I never thought for one minute I would be able to read cards sent after the death of a loved one but I did because the words were true. The funeral was 9 days after her death, 9 days we had to make sure everything was done to the best of our ability to give her the best sent off and I believe we did. I didn't dread the funeral the way I have others and I did cry - from the moment I passed the cemetery on the way to the funeral, to my mum's where she showed me a lovely bouquet of flowers, to the funeral parlour, into see my granny, through the service, strangely stopped in the funeral car, restarted at the graveside and finally dried up at in the funeral car on the way for the meal. But not once did I sob uncontrollably the way I have at others, I say others, I've only been to two, but they were enough and I don't feel the same about death and funerals as I once did and I believe that's because I no longer dread the day my granny dies!

Yours emotionally mended
Windy xx

Granny

2008-11-07T16:18:00.006Z

Been AWOL for a bit because I have been so busy with work and life in general, but I'm back and will be catching up with you all soon.

One of the days I have dreaded all my life has finally happened, on Wed 15th October 2008 at 12.05pm my dear granny passed away with myself and my mum by her side.

We had headed off for our October school break holiday, our only holiday this year, excited we were taking the kids to Butlins in Minehead Mon to Fri and meeting with my favourite sister-in-law, brother-in-law and 3 kids, who were going from Fri to Fri. We decided as it's a long way from Glasgow to Minehead to leave on Saturday and spend the weekend where ever we landed, we landed in Stoke-On-Trent and had a great time at the local Splash pool on Sunday, followed by a cosy evening in the Premier Inn watching Mary Poppins. My mum called on the Sunday night to confirm that Granny really 'wasn't good' she had been bedridden for a few months and had been non responsive for more than a week. My main concern at this point was to get my family to Butlins and then I could make my way home, selfish it may seem but there had been a few times we thought 'this is it' and Granny had rallied round, although each time a little poorer. I decided a good nights sleep was in order if I was going to have to travel home in the morning. In my head I thought, I could fly home, hire a car, anything but as long as the kids could get to Butlins. After a phone call to my mum on Monday morning I decided we should continue and headed to the first service station to have our breakfast, it was at that point the obvious came to me, if you want to fly you need i.d. if you want to hire a car you need a driving licence and guess what I had nothing apart from a Costco card and my credit cards, the only option was a train. After the 'what do you mean you carry no i.d.' conversation with the hubby I got a text to say 'not good, can you get a refund on your holiday' from my mum. At this point it was clear we would have to go home. I called her and cried as I watched the sheer disappointment across the kids faces, my daughter cried, but at the same time they said nothing, just knowing it wasn't good.

5 hours and 20 minutes later I was by my Granny's side, she had been on morphine for over an hour. I think I sobbed quietly most of the journey home wondering how I could ask the kids if they wanted to come and say goodbye to their Granny Betty. My mum had gone home to freshen up as she had been there all day after receiving a 'you better come now' call that morning. As we arrived at the home I blurted 'do you want to come and see Granny, she'll just be sleeping' and it literally was a blurt as I imagined the words 'say goodbye to Granny' that would inevitably happen when they were to leave, not surprisingly my daughter burst into tears and they both shook their heads, obviously as children they must have been scared and upset given the public emotion I was displaying. So I went it alone. And she was just sleeping, I spent the next hour saying all the things I wanted to say, tears and snotters all over the place but I had my time and my space and it was my Granny and I could cry if I wanted to. My mum later joined me and we cried a little more. Given her stable state we decided to go home, reassured the home staff would call if there was any change. We went back to the home on the Tuesday and she was definitely worse it really was a matter of time so we spent the whole day talking, crying and believe it or not laughing, reminiscing, thinking what my Granny would say the state we were in. Her favourite words were don't cry!! We stayed into the early hours and again as she had remained stable all day went home to rest, returning again on Wednesday. I arrived at 11.20am and at 12.05pm she took her final breath, it was a blessing.

God Bless you Granny and may you rest in peace - I love you. x

SCHOOL UNIFORMS

2008-08-09T11:36:00.003+01:00

School Uniforms aaarrrghhhhhh!

One week left arrrrggghhhhhhh!

Customers aaarrrrgghhhhh!

eBay aaarrrggghhhhhhhhh!

Picture the scene, Unit full of boxes, boxes that contain polo shirts, sweatshirts etc etc, all sorted into schools and me working to clear these boxes and deliver uniforms to all my waiting customers. Each customer is given time, my undivided attention and leave with complete, unmistakable confirmation that I will call when their uniform is ready for collection before the schools return on the 18th August. The phone goes, I ignore it if I have a customer, you see there is an answering machine, the purpose being to allow the caller to leave a message, but no the caller calls again because the first time they didn't want to leave a message but then decides maybe they will and so they call back, by that time I've nearly broken my neck falling over boxes to answer the bloody phone. I stop the machine to hear the customer and we have a typical conversation which goes like this;

'Hello Windy'
'Yes'
'It's Mrs Brown'
'Hi'
'I was wondering if my school stuff was ready yet?'
'What school is it?'
'it's The Primary School'
'Have I called you?'
'No'
'Well guess what? your f**king uniform's not ready yet'

Obviously that's not the conversation, but by God I would like to have that conversation. I am grateful to people and their business and these are only the newcomers that do that, they don't realise by calling me constantly that they are in fact holding up their own uniforms. As the years go by they will learn to trust that I will have their uniforms ready in time for going back to school.

Just a mild touch of stress at this time in the year, hence release on the blog.

Hope you're all fine and I'll be over to visit soon. Take care. xx

Our Angel returns

2008-07-31T13:40:00.002+01:00

Yesterday at 12.50pm, as the kids got ready to return to the afternoon play scheme, I heard my son say 'there's a cat' Through the glass panel on the front door I could see a cat meowing hard to get in, my stomach jumped as my son opened the door and in came our Angel. There were cries of 'Oh Angel, where have you been? I'm so pleased to see you!' Angel made her way right past us and straight to the food cupboard. Typical.

I gave her a quick look over and although hungry, a good bit thinner and tired she has no sign of injury, I can only assume she has been locked in somewhere. God bless her she has the most pathetic meow.

I was so relieved to have her back as soon as the kids were out of the door I cried - again. She later wanted out to answer the call of nature but that was not happening, until she has her strength back, so it was litter tray or nothing. She finally opted for litter tray. She slept next to me last night and I had no objections to being wakened by her at 2.35am as she took a wonder up my body and around the bed til she was comfy.

Micro chipping and a new collar will be arranged asap.

Complete devastation

2008-07-26T15:47:00.002+01:00

As if life is not tough enough Angel has gone missing.

We let her out as usual last Friday (18th) night at approx 11.30pm, went to bed and she has failed to return. She is only 11 months old, she has no distinguishing marks, she is black all over and had only just lost her new pretty pink collar 2 nights previous. She was not micro chipped as I hadn't quite got around to that and decided to get the new kitten and her done at the same time.

The Vet has confirmed she is more than likely locked in someones shed or garage, but it's been a full week and I am so worried about her being frightened, alone, starving and dehydrated. I cried on and off for the first 3 days, the kids are sad, but we are happy we have Tia. It would be so much worse if we didn't have her. An empty bed, empty food bowls and a cupboard full of food and litter to remind us of her missing pet.

I have informed the Vet and the local rescue centre and we have put fliers into our immediate neighbours and the Post Office, I haven't managed to put them into the local shops yet for fear of breaking down to the poor unsuspecting shop keeper, but I think I will manage that on Monday.

I'm not just a pretty face.....

2008-07-03T16:21:00.003+01:00

I have been a self employed woman now for 4 years, it certainly has it's ups and downs but all in all each year I gain a little more knowledge, I become more confident, not within myself, but as a 'business women' Each year I take a little more risk, spend a little more to accumulate a little more and so it goes on - slow & steady. I started my business due to my dissatisfaction with the local school wear supplier who has had the monopoly in the area for at least 20 years and the schools school wear supplier let me down. I decided there must be friendlier, more reliable suppliers in the town who catered for our school. There wasn't. There are plenty of places to buy polo shirts and sweats shirts. Asda, Tesco, Woolworths, M&S to name a few, but they don't have the school logo on them. At that point I realised there was a gap in the market and in June 2004 I became that friendly, reliable business.

I work alone from an industrial unit 8 minutes from my house. The unit is kitted out like a basic shop, there are no frills and no expensive high street rates to pay. There is parking right outside the front door. I have a single head embroidery machine which basically means I can embroider one garment at a time. Up until recently I embroidered all garments myself and for corporate customers I still do, customers who comes back annually and others who come back only every now and again, but each customer comes back and that, my dear people, is vitally important. I only advertise in the Yellow Pages and on Yell.com and of course I have my great idiot proof web site www.nhpservices.co.uk, but tend to find people come through referral. It may not be the most modern, fancy, well laid out shop, but the location and service seems to please most customers. I am based in the unit but do attend parents evenings at 3 schools to takes orders from parents nearer the end of the school term.

I started dealing only in school wear and personalised baby gifts, but quickly realised the school wear would not be enough to keep a business going all year round and started dealing with corporate customers which sounds all very grand but tends to be small businesses with perhaps only one or two workers looking to enhance their image with polo shirts and fleeces with their business logo embroidered on their work wear, these corporate customers spread quickly and I now deal with hundreds of small business, bowling clubs and charities.

Schools work in different ways, many order uniforms in bulk which they store and sell directly to the parents, others offer a supplier service like I do with 3, I attend the school on parents evening, giving parents the chance to order and see the garments for quality and others leave the purchasing of uniforms up to the parents to attend the local 'monopoly man' who lacks customer service and fails to offer refunds. Each logo has to be digitised in embroidery format so that the computerised machine knows where to put the stitches, these logo's are dealt with via email, I email the picture or drawing and the digitisers (people who digitise) email me back the formatted logo, customers obviously pay for this digitising process. With the school logo's it is slightly different and I have to cover the cost of each logo initially, I started out with only 3 school logos and I now have 17. This may not sound many but when you are dealing with the parents and children from 17 different schools during a 6/7 week period, alone, trust me it is many. Couple this with the continual run of corporate work not to mention trying to up keep an ebay shop. Did I mention I do all this alone.

Why not get someone in to help you? I hear you say. Quite simply because I do not trust anyone enough to give the service the way I do. Originally I wanted to work from home as I really like caring for my home and my family - sad I know, but I like it and people often mentioned ebay selling to me, at that time it wasn't right for me and now having found suppliers and contacts I do both and I would really like to grow the ebay business. I have found may fantastic suppliers and deal with 2 for my standard school wear such as polo shirts, sweat shirts, cardigans, fleeces, jackets etc. A few years ago I realised it was becoming impossible to meet the demands of the school wear required, I could get the garments no problem but embroidering them on time meant working the last couple of weeks of the summer holidays from 6am to often 11 or 12 at night. I didn't mind the work but did object to neglecting my children. This was when I found my second main supplier who offer an embroidery service, I place the order and the garments arrive all embroidered, with the promise of a 7 day turnaround, no other supplier can meet this demand and last year for the first time I put them to the test. After the initial set up and approving of logo's I placed my first order and exactly 7 days later the order arrived all embroidered, this from a business point of view is fantastic and allows me to take a massive step in growing the business, the only issue I have is their garments are not just as good as my other supplier but they are still good.

This company also offer a pre order service and if you place your order before christmas for the following summer, you get 10% discount on the total order, half price embroidery, get to specify a delivery date and also an invoice date, so that you are only paying once you have sold the garments and then to top it all if you pay the bill on time they give you a further 2.5% discount. This is my favourite supplier and they are now guaranteeing a 5 day turn around during the summer months - Fabulous. Garments arrived this year on the 9th June as requested, all present and correct. The other company realising this is an essential service for smaller businesses last year decided to offer a similar pre order service and given that they do a colour of polo shirt and jackets that the Fabulous company don't I placed a smaller order with them for delivery on the 9th June, they could not meet this demand and after much complaining and phoning I finally received the order on Thursday 26th June. I was sorely disappointed, unfortunately they do not have their own in house embroidery machines and therefore have no control over that part of the process. They will have to make massive amends before I will use the pre order service again. The Fabulous company are working on a new jacket and nice gold colour polo shirt and if they continue to be as Fabulous they could take my business to new heights. Sometimes it's hard to know what direction to take in business, but it usually finds it's own way. I have chosen to go down the slow sensible route and next year who knows. I started stocking only the top half of clothing but now offer skirts, plimsolls, belts, socks, tights, tank tops & slip overs it has taken time to find good suppliers of quality items and only buy what I would use on my own children at prices I find acceptable.

I had a huge order from one of my charities which had to be completed for Wednesday this week, this involved working til 2 am on Tuesday morning, back in for the normal 10-3 shift and back in at 6am on Wednesday but home for 12 as this was my day off and I promised to do something with the kids. I went home, knackered, could hardly keep my eyes open and the kids wanted to go swimming, who was I to say no, I had promised. So if I am missing from the blogging circuit for a few weeks you'll all know why, but I will be lurking when I have a spare 5 minutes.

This is my favourite time of year, dealing with the parents and the children, offering advise because I not only know the schools but I have primary school children and know what is acceptable and trendy in the age groups. Every parent of a new start spends at least 30-40 minutes here trying, discussing, looking and touching, I value this time as I know they will leave happy with their purchases, I do not allow them to over spend when there is no need. They spend a lot of money with me and if they are happy then they are a customer for at least 7 years, spreading the word on what a great shop it is to come to. And that makes me very proud.

Where are you Driving?

2008-06-20T14:20:00.003+01:00

It seems that the blog Driving with the brakes on has been removed. Where are you Nicole?

Have you removed the blog, moved the blog, does anyone know?

Please get in touch and let us know.

xx

Tia and the conservatory blinds

2008-06-19T13:41:00.002+01:00

Well I need not have worried, I arrived home to find Tia in her bed in the living room and as usual Angel who spends the night out and sleeps all day only to appear as soon as I walk through the front door, so I don't think they had been near each other.

Angel still growls and gives the occasional hiss if Tia walks towards her and then runs away to the safety of a top bunk, she has been spending a lot of time on top of the kitchen wall units observing the new little ball of black fur and even went as far as entering the living room while the kitten was present and had a little sniff at her bed, she even had a nibble from her food bowl yesterday so hopefully they will be friends soon enough.

Yesterday I experienced the most traumatic event ever, Tia was walking round the conservatory window ledge and caught her leg in the sting of the vertical blinds, being so small she managed to flip herself which meant she was well and truly caught, as she tried to pull away she started squealing, the most blood curdling squealing I have ever heard, I grabbed at her to stop her pulling, the way she had flipped herself the full weight of the blinds was pulling at her leg, luckily my son was home and I shouted on him, trying to remain calm I explained 'you have to hold her tightly, she will bite and scratch but I have to untangle her leg' at that she scratched him, causing him to let her go, she swung down hanging by the leg, squealing, I fumbled to grab her and my poor boy started hitting mild hysteria, screaming and crying 'I'm sorry mum, I'm so sorry, SORRY SORRY SORRY' by this time my heart was thudding, I'm reassuring him 'it's ok, it's ok, go and get me the scissors' I held on to her, not letting her escape my grip for fear of her breaking her leg, she scratched and bit and finally I managed to snip the string, she jumped out of my gripping hand and had a little run about on the floor, giving the occasional shake to her little leg, my son disappeared to the living room and I took a minute to breath, I was shaking like a leaf it was the longest few minutes of my life, once it appeared Tia was ok I went off to find my little traumatised boy who was sobbing in the living room, I big mummy cuddle, still required at the age of 11 and reassurance it was ok, she was ok and it wasn't his fault, he too had got such a fright with the blood curdling screaming, knowing his new little bundle was in such pain and so frightened, after tending to him I checked the kitten again and she seemed ok. At this point I could have burst into tears, I was glad I was home, although she would not have been in the conservatory if I wasn't home and I was glad my son was home, although traumatised he was able to get the scissors I'm not sure what I would have done if he wasn't home as the string was so tight the only option was to cut it.

I am again traumatised after living that all over again so I will leave it there for today and go and have a cup of tea!

Angel v Tia

2008-06-16T14:01:00.003+01:00

I have 2 bits of news today;

We got another kitten yesterday, she has the same mother and father as Angel, you may remember just recently I talked about him, the big black Tom Cat who must be the lightest cat on his feet around our way judging by the amount of kittens born next door alone!

Tia is the new arrival, she is black and has a small white triangle just under her chin, this may be handy as she gets older so that we can tell the difference if necessary. Angel was none to fussed and has growled and hissed at her, causing the 'wee yin' to hiss back and arch her back, all 6 inches of her - it's so cute! As Angel is now officially a night cat, we left the wee yin unattended in the living room as Angel enters via the bedroom window and then takes residence at my feet. The wee yin slept safely behind the couch where she was safe from Angels view. I took the wee yin up to my room this morning to ask Angel to be nice to her and Angel lifter her head, had a look and went back to sleep, this filled me with positive vibes and I left them both the free roam of the house, knowing the wee yin could run behind the couch and the big yin, being a bit of a woose, can go out of the window. All was well and I was happy with my decision until I started googling 'how to introduce the kitten to the older kitten' almost every thread I came across suggested separation until they are used to each other and in the event they draw blood contact the vet. So now I'm shitting myself that the wee yin couldn't run fast enough to get behind the couch and the big yin's drawn blood. I normally only work until 2pm on a Monday and I stupidly told someone who is coming to collect their work wear that I will be here until 2.30. In a desperate attempt to pass the time I am writing this post.

I hadn't told the kids of the hubby about Tia and let the kids decide on the kitten as there were 2, one was so timid we opted for the not quite so timid one. We set her up in the conservatory, food, water, bed etc and on returning from work, the hubby who keeps his working boots in there said and these are his exact words;

What the fuck is that? stating the obvious at the little black ball of fur
No fucking way!
That's not staying!
We're not having another cat!
It'll be gone by the end of the day!

He drew breath long enough for my son to say 'her name is Tia' proudly

To which he replied 'What kinda name's that for a cat'

Needless to say, the wife wins again, the kitten's still with us - well here's hoping.

I'll keep the other news for tomorrow as I've passed enough time.

No time for a funeral

2008-06-06T17:03:00.003+01:00

It was Saturday the 10th of May and we had loaded the bouncy castle into the car to take to the MIL's for a party for the newly weds son's first birthday. The boys had started on the back garden, clearing the grass, dirt and slabs, a lorry had just arrived to take away the rubbish and off load some 'type one' a technical term for stones which are used underneath the paving blocks. We used this day to practise the daughters hair, ready for her communion the following week, I was just adding the finishing touches when the phone rang, it was my mum;

'I'm just about to go to the hospital, your gran is being taken in' she said 'I'm going to meet the ambulance there, I thought I should let you know' this time her voice breaking into tears.

'What's happened' I asked

'She was being taken for her lunch and she just slouched, her tongue and her lips went blue and the home have phoned an ambulance as it took them a while to rouse her' she explained

This is it I thought, the phone call I have been dreading, I don't think I can cope with this today, dealing with a funeral and a communion. 'I'll meet you there' I said. By this time I was in tears which makes the children worry, my son went to get his Daddy and my daughter wiped my tears. Typically our car was parked behind the lorry, which had its stabilising legs out and was blocking the whole road. But the hubby being my knight in shining armour advised the driver he would ne' ae shift his lorry as the wives granny wisnae well. I hurried out of the house trying to hide my scarlet, teary face while thanking the boys without making eye contact. On one hand if my Granny was to slip away I wouldn't want her to be resuscitated, at the age of 86 with the severe dementia she has, I don't think it's fair, but on the other hand, this is my Granny and I wasn't ready to part with her. The whole journey to the hospital I gave myself a good talking to, she was 86, she'd had a good life, she has no quality of life at the moment. But it didn't stop the tears flowing. The only one passing comment I could make to the hubby being;

'I don't even have a tissue, you would think being a mother I would carry a pack of tissues' sniffing back the snot.

The hubby dropped me at the door and said he would come back up after dropping the kids at his mothers, I couldn't even say goodbye. I managed to tell the girl at the reception desk that my gran had been brought in by ambulance and gave her name. The girl then politely said

'She already has a relative in with her and we only allow one relative' in the kind of tone that one wants to smash her face in.

My immediate thoughts were, only one relative, is that good or bad, is it because she is so ill that they only allow one, but I was able enough to confirm that would be my mum and could someone tell her that I'm here.

A few minutes later a female nurse came to the door and ushered me in and with a sympathetic arm around me she lead me through, she'd obviously died, I could tell by her reaction and the fact they are letting me in, with this I took a sharp breath in and let out a big sob. The nurse at this point said 'She's ok, she's right in here' pushed the door open and there sat my mother with the same red, teary face. 'It's ok, she's ok' said my mum and at that my Granny, in a big loud voice, said 'I'm ok' I was so relieved.

I then had to explain to my mum and the nurses that I thought due to the sympathetic action of the nurse that she had passed away. It turns out the nurse was in fact my Gran's new carer from the home, I had just seen the uniform and assumed it was a nurse. The hospital staff were fantastic and keep apologise for keeping us waiting, they gave us tea and sandwiches and were very understanding of the dementia. We have come across many people who have never dealt with dementia and start to raise their voice when my Gran fails to respond with the answer to their question. One thing she is not and that is deaf! Granny under went all sorts of tests that day, several ECG's, blood tests, a chest X-ray, a sample taken from an artery in the wrist which was extremely painful for her and for us, practically having to pin her down to have it done by a young nervous doctor. She arrived in casualty at approx 1.15pm and finally at 7pm she was admitted to a ward. The ward was particularly quiet that evening and the staff nurse spent a good bit of time with us, allowing us to explain all her dementia issues, meaning we could go home and relax knowing that she would not be left unattended with the bed rails down.

During her time in casualty the nurse came in to tell me that my husband was outside. Standing waiting with a packet of tissues, ready to take the emotional outburst. I was emotional but by then it was a relieved gibbering. He would have stayed but due to the one person restriction I sent him to reassure the kids.

Granny was released the next day with confirmation that she had a Urinary Tract Infection and a course of Antibiotics.

As usual things always come in threes and on Monday there was a follow up appointment at the hospital as the X-rays had shown something the doctors wanted to discuss. We knew it had to be something of concern. My mum attended the appointment and basically to cut a long story short my Gran has a small mass on her lung which they can only assume to be cancer. Given her age there will be no operation or treatment and nature will take it's course they will of course keep her comfortable. The last X-ray she had was approx 2 years ago and there will be another X-ray shortly to determine growth. At the moment it seems to be causing her no pain.

As I am trained in Reiki I have been sending distant Reiki since Monday, in cases cancer has been known to go completely with continual Reiki treatment, although with me the jury is still out on that one. I do not wish to rid my Gran of cancer to prolong her life, but merely to make sure she doesn't suffer.

Father of 11, that we know of and not a bit of maintenance paid

2008-06-02T19:24:00.004+01:00

Well the big black Tom cat about our way has certainly been putting it about a bit. Our kitten Angel was a result of the frolicking of next doors black cat, or kitten as she was then, with the big black Tom cat, being so young she only had 2 kittens, one male, one female. You would think being the responsible owner of 3 female cats and 2 unexpected kittens it would be enough to have any owner run all three cats immediately to the vets for spaying, but no, there seemed to have been more important things on the agenda like a new flat screen TV which required a new TV unit and of course new curtains and a matching rug, not to mention the annual girlie holiday.

Only just 8 weeks ago the second oldest black & white cat gave birth to 3 kittens, 2 black & white and one grey & white, 2 female and one male. I was absolutely smitten with the grey & white kitten and suggested to the hubby we get it. His response was somewhat unexpected, lets just say I tend to get what I want, he may refuse to begin with but pretty soon he gives in, but this time it was a categorical, unarguable, definite NO! I was shocked. Moi, being told no, that was a first. For weeks I tried to shame him into giving in, but he didn't. Meantime Angels mother took a sudden middle spread and 4 weeks ago became a mother for the second time, 3 kittens, 2 female and one male.

At my daughters communion, the kittens provided great entertainment for all the kids and my lovely niece's boyfriend left with the little black & white male kitten. One down 2 to go before the next lot were ready for dispatch. I took the grey & white one to show everyone my new kitten, to which the hubby just raised his eyebrows, but still he told my neighbour

'she's no gettin' it!'

After a particularly bad night kept awake by the hubby's snoring I decided bugger it, I'm having that kitten, after work I'll confirm with my neighbour and surprise the kids. Sitting to have our dinner, me, my children, the hubby and my mother and my son announced;

'Well that's all the kittens gone'

'Gone' I stammered, my heart sinking.

'Yes, they've been taken by the neighbour's sister and a friend' he confirmed.

Well, I could hardly eat my dinner for tripping over my big petted lip. After dinner I took the communion photo's in to show my neighbour and confirm the kittens were in fact gone. They were.

'You said you weren't to get one' she said.

'I know, but I wanted that grey & white one' I said like a two year old.

She was so apologetic, but it wasn't her fault. No, it was the hubby's fault. So having talked myself into the fact I would shortly have 2 cats I put a reserve on one of Angel's sisters, they will be ready in about 3 weeks and this time I will surprise the kids. I put on a brave face, went home and announced I would never forgive the hubby, there would never be another grey & white cat like that, it was one of a kind and I didn't get it because he said NO, as you do when you are tired and irrational. To which he responded and quite rightly I might say;

'When have you ever listened to me, I thought you would just have appeared with it anyway'

This made me feel slightly better about the fact I had just gone behind his back and reserved another one, so we'll see what his reaction is when another little black kitten appears soon. Perhaps he won't even notice.

Meanwhile, and this is a true story I am not making this up, the third and final cat, the ginger one also took a middle spread and on Saturday night gave birth to 3 kittens, a ginger one and 2 black ones, or so we thought until yesterday when we got a closer look, they have white faces, black bodies with ginger stripes and ginger markings on their legs, sex still to be confirmed.

When the hubby heard the ginger cat was expecting he announced he would like a ginger cat so that he could call it Garfield. Bloody typical.

As there are a couple of people interested in the kittens I thought I better have a look at them and reserve mine, I had only seen them just after they were born and didn't take much interest in them as I was having the grey & white one from the first litter, so last night I went in and had a full study of all three of them, the male I eliminated straight away as I am not having any 'goings on' under my roof without a marriage certificate. This leaves the 2 females, one completely black with many stray white hairs down her left front paw and one with a little white patch under her chin. The one with the white patch is a nosy little thing, as soon as someone talks, she sits down, raises her head and ears and becomes alert, all 6 inches of her, sooooo cute, but she has a funny little face, resembling a little gremlin, while the other has a fuller face.

I have no idea which one to go for, I like the idea of the little nosy one, but prefer the face of the other one and my main concern is the nosy one becomes a little to nosy and inquisitive and scales the curtains and the furniture and is generally a lot to handle after getting our placid little Angel.

Any advice on How to choose your kitten would be gratefully received.

And Tom cat, well he better watch out, it'll be cheaper to get him neutered than the 3 females, if we can catch the b*****d....

For the record I confirm Angel was spayed at 5 months before she was let out the door

First Holy Communion

2008-05-22T10:54:00.004+01:00

Being the very proud mother of a new First Holy Communicant, I am going to obviously do the proud mummy bit and show off a few photographs, there will be a couple more to follow as I have just had another spool developed, yes developed, I still use my old faithful camera!

So here she is, the very sweet, very innocent, Little Miss Windy......

Can you believe it rained on Saturday morning, hence the indoor photograph and deflated bouncy castle (wet bouncy castle) in the background.

After the event, photo's taken in the chapel as it was cold and damp outside

Side view to show off the hair - did I make a good job or what?

Finally back home and it brightened up, stopped raining and we rattled through the photo's so that she could get the dress off and get on the bouncy castle. Brother and sister in harmony for a moment.

"Sweet and innocent now, just wait until tomorrow when I'm knackered"

Still smiling

Mum & dad and the proud girl.

Apart from the rain and the cold wind the day dried up and the kids had a great time, I didn't do much at all. On arriving back from the chapel my SIL's had set out all the food, the hubby attended to drinks, my niece attended to tea and coffee and I sat with my daughter while she opened her cards and gifts. When it was time to eat my SIL cooked the pizza's and Miss Windy's godmother heated the 2 pots of soup. Despite not being able to sit outside everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, the boys took residence in my son's bedroom, occupied by the PlayStation and the girls played contently in Miss Windy's bedroom. The bouncy castle was turns each, boys then girls, we only had 2 injuries, a staved thumb for my son and a winded godson.

I was eternally grateful for my conservatory as squeezing just sort of 60 people in would have been a struggle without it. I enjoyed the day, my daughter thoroughly enjoyed her day, the house was gutted and looked good in it's newly decorated state, the garden looked good and of course my daughter....well she looked fabulous. I am also glad it's over, I can enjoy the summer knowing the house is in order, the garden is in order and I am only left with the normal things in life, like washing, ironing and housework.

It was not cheap, but it was worth it, one day, her day, a day to remember for the rest of her life. The beginning of the rest of her life as a member of the church family. Amen

Reality check......

2008-05-13T10:45:00.004+01:00

This morning I was feeling a little bit stressed. The housework schedule is on plan, the shopping list is ready for Friday, everything else has a time and day to be collected, dusted, hoovered etc. I went to the shops and got my Triplicate book and new pens ready to take orders at the school tonight, I bought a communion card for my daughter, birthday card for my son from us and a brother card for my daughter to give her brother, I bought a 50th card for my SIL, an anniversary card for the hubby and 5 cards for a £1, handcrafted, lovely cards as there is always a birthday in our family. I love The Card Factory! I exchanged the shoes I bought on Saturday as they were a bit small and bought a mini cardigan as I don't think the weather is going to be 'all that' on Saturday. I have arranged my parents evening appointments to take place before everyone else this evening and my mum is coming to babysit as the hubby is on night shift. Sorted. And then I came into the unit this morning, looked at all the boxes and the orders that need to be ready for Monday and had instant panic. I am not going to make it and I am taking Friday off to get and do the food for the communion so I am a day short this week .................... aaarrrgggghhhhhh.

I decided to get it off my chest by doing a post, but before I started I thought I would check in on Nicole over at Driving with the brakes on who's little angel Quinn was born at 21 weeks and 3 days gestation and was sadly taken by the angels. This gave me a reality check, so what if the order is a few days late, so what if my living room isn't dusted, does any of it matter? The answers is quite simply no. Nicole has posted all the details of Quinn birth and passing, I have read and wept and prayed for her and her family. If you are going over for a visit I suggest you read alone and with a big box of Kleenex.

My stress has gone......who cares, it'll all work out in the end. For now I remain content that I have my family close by me.

The final countdown

2008-05-09T10:50:00.002+01:00

I am on a count down to Saturday the 17th May, not only is it my 36th birthday and my 12th wedding anniversary, it is also the day my daughter makes her First Holy Communion. The house has now been completely decorated and all that remains is housework.

We decided to get a price to have the back garden completely mono blocked in a desperate attempt to have a maintenance free household, the price was to good to refuse so the work started last Saturday and will be complete this Saturday and Sunday. The wooden, collapsing shed has been removed and we have opted for a plastic, maintenance free, shed, although it is unlikely to be delivered before the communion, so we will leave the bikes etc etc hidden in the neighbours garden for the communion, hidden by our new 5 foot fence. I am going to enjoy myself this summer, the house fresh and the garden mono blocked, the fences painted, only housework will remain. I am going to have the most sociable summer I have had in a long time in my new maintenance free world. I know people love their gardens and spend hours looking after them, if I do have hours to spare I want to sit in the garden or play with my children, I don't want to paint fences and cut grass. The only thing that remains to be attended to in the house is the bathroom, but that is next years work and perhaps making the loft into a room that I can use as an office.

Everything is scheduled, the favours are ordered to be collected on Wednesday, the cake to be collected on Friday, my daughters dress is away to be steamed and I will collect it on Friday. We did a Costco trip last week and bought all the fizzy juice, fruit shoots for the kids, plates and bowls. We were fortunate in that we over bought bottles of spirits for my son's communion and therefore still have many unopened bottles left, well scene my father is no longer with us and we might find the bottles no longer contained alcohol, he will be turning in his grave to know all that alcohol has been there, all this time, untouched, if fact he will be turning in his grave to know that my children are catholics, he never saw that coming! An Asda trip for beer is planned for the weekend. I am going to take the day off work on Friday and do the final Costco trip for food, collect the dress and the cake and all being well the house will be sitting perfect and I can concentrate on preparing the food, and than I woke up.

I do have the slight inconvenience of parents evenings, as our schools main uniform supplier I attend all parents evenings with the uniforms for parents to order ready for August. Parents evening being the 13th and 14th of this month, 6-8pm, along with my own appointments on Tuesday. Needless to say I could really do without it this week, so I will have to be super organised.

We also have my son's birthday on the 18th, have I mentioned before I spent my first wedding anniversary and 25th birthday in labour, the whole day, only for him to make his appearance at 1.08am on the 18th. Midwives were delighted I had waited and the baby had his own birthday, I can assure you I wouldn't have minded sharing the day.

I still need to get something to wear, have you seen the fashion lately, the smocky look is ok if you don't have a permanently bloated tummy, the strappy tops all have triangles to put your boobs in and unfortunately being a FF (boast, boast - NOT) my boobs do not fit in these tops, well they might but it's hardly appropriate for my daughters communion. I will have to get my son a present and a cake, the wee soul said the other day 'I don't mind waiting until the summer to have a sleepover with my friends mum' he's such a considerate boy.

One of these days I will have no plans, no decorating, I will be calm and unstressed, relaxed and enjoying life to the full. But for now adrenaline keeps me going.

The Wedding Finale

2008-05-05T12:16:00.003+01:00

A few more drinks and the children were called for dinner, they were eating in the dining room next to the bar accompanied by my beautiful niece and her best friend. I was relieved as my daughter was becoming unbearable through starvation. A short time later and we were called to dinner, each person accompanied to there seat. The meal was sensational, I have never enjoyed a meal at a wedding as much as I enjoyed this one, I later discovered the meal was £37 a head. What! Vegetable soup, followed by a sorbet to cleanse the pallet, which sent our men into turmoil, we do not have the most classy family and I think their immediate thoughts were 'have we missed the meal?' I opted for chicken, which was stuffed, wrapped in bacon, with an array of seasonal vegetables, an amazing sauce and boiled and roast potatoes, delicious. To top the meal off raspberry cheesecake.

The children were then brought back to join us for the speeches, they sat all the way up one side of the hall on window seats. The bride not wanting to put pressure on her father, who has the on-set of dementia had asked her brothers to do a speech on his behalf, they carried it off very well. They of course started off with the English - Scottish language barrier and confirmed they had the groom watching Eastenders to pick up the London lingo and that they had been watching Take the High Road, given that Take the High Road has not been on TV for a long while their joke was slightly wasted and perhaps River City would have received a bigger laugh, but they pulled it back quickly when they said the reason for them doing the speech was due to their dad being Irish (which is true) so nobody would understand him. Speeched out of the way and we headed to the Drawing Room for tea and coffee, while the staff cleared the dinning room.

By this time it was nearing 8.30 and I was keen for the dancing to begin to liven us all up as we were beginning to wilt, but it was not yet time for the dancing, it was time for a Celtic Blessing and guess where it was, yes it was back to the great hall, I decided I couldn't face the cold, so I stayed warm and cosy in the Drawing Room with some of the younger children. They returned some 30 minutes later and it was out to the terrace for fireworks. My son, who only had his Gilly shirt on, came back from the Great Hall frozen, luckily I had been wise enough to bring his jacket for the journey home. We watched the fireworks which seemed to go on forever and finally they stopped and the first waltz was to begin. It was 10.15 pm, I was ready for my bed!

The hall was long and narrow with only perhaps 7 or 8 tables set up with 8 to a table, there were approx 80 guests + children and no where near enough seats, the dance floor was mainly taken up with the band and after the initial waltz the band started with the Gay Gordon. My husband and I took to the floor and I think we did the Gay Gordon on the one spot the whole way through. My daughter danced a bit with her cousins and then decided she was too cold and she too got her coat on and went to play for a bit. She returned to my side at 11pm with a sore head, so her and I retired to the Drawing Room where 2 of my sister-in-laws were, she lay her head on my knee and within 15 minutes was asleep, happily sucking away on her thumb with her silky ribbon, taken from one of the favours, oblivious to those around her. We were then joined by my son, who sat wide eyed listening to all the gossip from his Aunties.

The bus came promptly at 12.30, for which I was eternally grateful. A bus full of drink fuelled people and of course the usual sing song starts, it was great, more fun, laughter and enjoyment on the way home than there had been for most of the evening.

I may sound ungrateful and I suppose in a way I was. When the wedding had first been spoken about, the bride, who had said she would never remarry had confirmed it was to be a child friendly, informal wedding. I was lulled into a false sense of security, it was very grand and I'm sure it spiralled out of control the way most weddings do, my husband doesn't come from a grand family and I mean no disrespect when I say that. They are not a couple who have an abundance of money, they have not won the lottery and they have 4 children. To me it seems such a lot of money, thousands of pounds they spent on a grand day, just one day. They could have had a simple, just as meaningful day, one marriage ceremony, no fireworks and a party at night, followed by a holiday for all 6 of them. Instead they are having Barcelona for 4 days with the gift money they received for the 2 of them.

Each to their own I suppose.

The Wedding - Part 1

2008-04-28T13:48:00.004+01:00

It seems like such a long time ago that the wedding of the oldest nephew and his English girl took place. It was an unforgettable wedding or should I say a wedding that we will never forget.

The bus collected us from the Travelodge at 1.20 pm, all dressed up and raring to go, hats, fascinators, high heeled shoes, dresses, suits, kilts and flowers, an impressive sight I thought. The bus arrived at the entrance gates of the castle and took the long narrow, mile long, tree lined, stone path to the castle, we all breathed in as the bus passed through the narrow gate pillars along the way. Although I guess the driver had done it before.

The bus drew to a stop outside the castle, my daughter was immediately disappointed to see what looked like the side of an old square building. We entered quickly as there was a cold wind in the air. A dark castle door lead into a circular brick porch area, through dark wooden double doors and into a large L shaped foyer, I was immediately drawn to the toilet sign on the left, pointing down a small set of stairs, I was glad to see it was slightly brighter down that set of stairs. The walls were completely panelled with dark wood and had an array of weapons on display from axes to swords, there was the occasional deers head, stuffed and hung proudly above the doorways. Straight along the foyer on the right were the double doors that would lead us to the dining room, there were 5 or 6 wide stairs leading up to the rest of the foyer on the left. A photographer, these ones who take 'action pictures' was bent on one knee at the top of the stairs causing everyone to freeze, trying to establish who or what he is snapping and then trying to act casual as you walk passed him. He then informed us he was taking pictures of 'the moment' and basically to ignore him! Getting to the top of the few stairs I was aware it had become lighter, brighter and more spacious, there was another dining room to the left, next to it was the lounge (with the bar) opposite the few stairs was a full windowed wall with door, we named this the back door, leading out onto the balcony, well they called it a balcony, I wouldn't have called it a balcony more a terrace, it ran the full length of the outside of the foyer and the drawing room, which was on the right, there were real pillars, flowers & plants, a row of seats and wide steps leading into the stunning grounds. I was given a menu and a children's menu and we had to pick our meal there and then, the menu was quite fancy but I was glad to say I liked it and the children even got to have chicken nuggets & cheeseburgers. The meal picked and the children off to explore the castle we hit the bar, I think we managed 2.5 drinks before we were called to make our way to the Great Hall for the marriage ceremony. As the castle was exclusively for our use we were advised by the bar staff to cover the drinks with a bar mat and they would be there on our return - very classy.

We were lead through the back door, onto the balcony, down the stairs and onto the stony path, that in high heels was an achievement in itself, around the side of the castle, through an archway and then a cobbled court yard, back onto a stony path, up a small set of outside stairs to a door way where we halted behind the queue of people that had gathered. And the reason for the queue was the single spiral uneven stair way which lead via a turret to the Great Hall! The turret had small square windows at stair level, with no glass, which caused the wind to whirl in that area, each woman carefully maneuvering up the widest part of the stair, holding the small uneven handrail, handbag, any small children while trying not to have a Marilyn Munro moment. I was glad I had trousers on. Bearing in mind the guests included my 73 year old MIL, oldest nephews other granny, who has sever dementia, lives in a home and had been brought by 2 carers, a 9 year old boy with severe cerebral palsy who was in a wheelchair and a couple of babies. Who in there right mind would have their wedding.............anyway! The Great Hall really was a disappointment, it was freezing cold, there were no seats and I don't mean no seats left, there were no seats, you stand for the ceremony, the kids were put in a turret area where they had a perfect view, the crying of the bride and grooms unwell 11 month old baby echoed around the room. Did I mention they have four children? 2 from the brides first marriage age 13 and 11 or there abouts and 2 together age 2 and 11 months. We all awaited the arrival of the bride, the wind whirled and whistled around my freezing feet, the baby cried and then she entered, accompanied by her dad, who also has dementia. She looked lovely, an ivory dress, her long black hair curled, she was followed by her little girl in an ivory dress with a black sash, her big girl and another 2 bridesmaids in black with the ivory sash all wearing ivory fur stoles (if that's what you call them) the groom's sister sneaked out with the baby to let his parents concentrate on getting married. I forgot all about my freezing feet while I watched and listened to the ceremony, a little tear in my eye, this was quickly brightened by the grooms other Granny shouting Fuck Off repeatedly towards the end of the ceremony. Getting up the stairs had been easy in comparison to trying to get back down them, the carers had started to take Granny down, she was terrified, routed to the spot, they encouraged her and finally got her moving, meanwhile the groom's sister was at the bottom of the stairs trying to get back up with the baby for the photo's, the bride kept sending people to get the baby, by this time I was half way down the stairs and ordered the person at the top to stop, go back, not let anyone down until the baby was up before both the bride and the groom's sister had a fit. Sorted. I can't be doing with folk faffing about, poeple need order and direction so that's what they got.

We headed back to the warmth of the bar, where we were greeted with a pink cocktail punch, it was lovely, so lovely we got the men to go and get us their share. My daughter announced she was starving, she doesn't eat ordinary crisps it has to be Skips or Quavers, they had none. It was announced dinner would be at 6pm, it was 3.45pm. I knew then it would be a long night.

And as usual there has to be a tragedy to balance the world, another niece, the one who has just announced her engagement had been sat with us the night before telling us about her fiance's dad, he had been unwell and had developed lumps on his head he had been taken into hospital on the Friday night, they decided to come to the wedding as there seemed nothing to worry about. After the ceremony he called home to see how things were and was told he should make his way home as it didn't look to good. There was instant panic on the poor boys part, but my SIL stepped in and went to arrange a taxi, my niece had not been drinking luckily so they only needed a taxi to the Travelodge to collect their car. Kindly and under the circumstances a member of staff from the castle took them to the Travelodge to collect their car. They travelled the hour and a half journey back to Glasgow and we were told just after dinner that the man had died. He had slipped away even before his only child had spoken to his mother but she obviously couldn't find the words to tell him over the phone and make his journey home any worse.

Let me put you in the picture.

2008-04-18T15:36:00.007+01:00

A few pictures from the Wedding and confirmation. In no particular order........

Darling daughter and her favourite closest cousin.

Me & the hubby, and no I am not sporting a huge head-dress, although I have to say it tones in very well!

Me & the hubby, minus the head-dress. Also note the hubby is not a giant but standing on a step higher than me!

Me, Hubby, handsome son and darling daughter.

Handsome son and his favourite closest cousin (brother to my daughters favourite cousin)

These boys are only 9 months apart!!

My mum and her favourite girl.

The Windy Family.

Must remember to close my legs and change out of my slippers for photo moments.

My MIL with her youngest Granddaughter (out of 19 grandchildren)

My beautiful niece & darling daughter

Notice Angel the cat, photo opportunity moment!

Me & my friend, it's not wine honest, it's Lambrusco!

The hubby and his 6 sisters, he also has 2 brothers but they were unavailable for this photo moment.

My hubby has a favourite song that gets played at every family party and he changes the words accordingly it goes........

"We are family......

I've got my 6 sisters with me"

A little insight into the Windy family. I will continue with the wedding story soon.

The Wedding Story weekend - part 1

2008-04-17T11:06:00.004+01:00

I am delighted to say that a further shopping trip with the 8 year old and we managed to get her a pink dress, cardigan and shoes that suited her much better and that she will get more wear out of. I had already purchased socks for her communion and decided she could wear them to the wedding and if they survived she could wear them to her communion and if not I would buy another pair. £5.99 for socks! don't get me wrong, lovely fancy socks, with a diamante on each lacey drop, but £5.99. For socks. The socks did survive the wedding, they came back white and came out of the washing machine white and in good condition. Great, I thought. Not so great when I noticed one sock only had one diamante left and the other had 3. I had wondered what the noise was as I pulled clothes from the washing machine, a dropping sound on the tiles but with no visual evidence. I have since found at least 8 while tidying. My mum suggested I should have hand washed them - smart arse.

Now I'm not sure what your idea of a good wedding would be but let me tell you mine. You get dressed up, you watch the happy couple tie the knot with a little tear in your eye, you have a wee drink, in the middle of the day, scandalous. You eat, laugh at the the speeches and then get the party started and drink a wee drop more, laugh a big bit more and dance the night away. Simple but most enjoyable.

The wedding was 9 miles outside of Dumfries on the Sunday at 2pm. We left on the Saturday and had booked into a Travelodge, most of the family had. A leisurely journey, only an hour and a half, arriving at 3.30. The Travelodge had no eating/drinking facilities so we took the short journey across the road to the Premier Inn. It was very sociable and quite exciting. Now I hope I don't confuse you in my telling of this story as my hubby has 6 sisters and 2 brothers all of whom are married, bar one, who stays at home with her mother. The wedding was the oldest sister's son. So we had our family, the other side of the grooms family and the brides family all congregating in the Premier Inn, there certainly was a buzz about the place. They were arranging an 'en mass' booking for dinner at 7pm, but we decided the kids couldn't wait that long and we went back to the Travelodge to unpack. We had a great set up, my favourite SIL next door, her kids are 15, 11 & 10 the youngest being the closest in age to my 2 and practically inseparable and my MIL & SIL in the room directly opposite, we had these automatic closing doors, which we held open with hangers and you knew if the door was held open it was a family member or at least someone going to the wedding, we were all sick of knock, knock, knock. The kids had a ball, dotting from room to room, we had at least 15 rooms booked. My favourite SIL, MIL & SIL had all eaten late afternoon so we sneaked over into a quiet corner in the Premier Inn and had our dinner, just the 4 of us. On our return to the Travelodge my MIL & SIL informed us they would watch the kids and we could go out for a drink! Whoooo Hooooo a night out. All rooms in the Travelodge have a double bed and a couch and pull out bed, so my MIL took the 2 girls in her room and my SIL took the 2 boys in our room. This time we walked across to the Premier Inn, landed a booth with a SIL, BIL, niece and her fiance. Make mine a Vodka and fresh orange, I haven't drunk vodka for over a year and a half, in fact apart from the odd Baileys and 3 Smirnoff Ice at New Year I haven't drunk at all. The rest of the masses were having dinner so we had a nice chat and a laugh and a bit of a bitch about the 'brother and SIL' that I don't talk to. As the masses finished their meals, the men gradually made their way to the bar and the women squeezed up in the booth, at one point I was surrounded by 5 SIL's, 4 nieces and 3 nephews and take a moment just to look round them all laughing and joking. It's not all rosy in the family, mainly triggered by the actions of the brother and SIL. But blood is thicker than water and they have something I will never experience, an unseen bond, related to each other, 8 siblings. I am quickly drawn out of my thoughts by another drink. I had a great night, sauntering back to the Travelodge with the SIL's, the men trailing behind as usual. The kids were still awake when we returned, my daughter deciding she wanted to sleep in our room, so we turfed out the nephew back to his room and my niece, she stayed quite happily with her granny & auntie.

The fact that the kids were still wakened, started to grate, they need routine, they need a good nights sleep or else they will be miserable, it's a long day tomorrow. But I gave myself a good talking too, it's only one weekend, it'll not do them any harm, get over it. I think the vodka helped.

The next morning and it was all go, we went to the Little Chef for breakfast, nice big cooked breakfast. The bus was collecting is at 1.20 so this was the only food we would get until dinner. This also sets my OCD into overdrive, no lunch, the kids can't go without lunch, but again I control it, telling them to fill their stomachs to the max. I don't think the Little Chef knew what had hit them, at least 30 people hitting them for breakfast at the one time, plus the other guests, who must have wondered what was going on, laughing, joking, shouting, did I ever mention shouting. I think it might be a big family thing, nobody talks, they all shout, quite possible trying to be heard, a small voice in a large crowd. The breakfast was extortionate, we decided Morrison's cafe would be ideal on the Monday morning.

We then got suited and booted so to speak and off we went in the bus, a pleasant journey, we entered the gates of the castle and took the mile long driveway to the castle, all breathing in as the bus went through 2 very narrow sets of brick pillars. The castle is a medieval castle and so everything inside was dark wood panelling, suits of armour strategically placed, I apologised to one for bumping into it only to see as I turned around it was in fact a tin man. The grounds were beautiful and plentiful, the kids went immediately to explore outside, starting with the dungeons! I noted how cold it was as the door opened. We were given menus to choose our meal right there and then, a beautiful menu and a kids menu, the kids were even eating in a separate room, watched over by my beautiful niece and her joined-at-the-hip-friend. We were then informed the marriage ceremony would take place at 3pm, nearly 45 minutes later. Apparently we had to be there at 2pm so that everyone would have placed their food order before the ceremony. I knew at that point this was going to be a long day. Vodka and fresh orange for me, I requested.

Shoot me now!

2008-04-14T12:38:00.004+01:00

I don't know where to start, there is such a lot to say. As I've said before 'it never rains but it pours in the Windy household!' In fact it's p***ing down continually at the moment.

We enjoyed the Easter weekend, the hubby he worked as usual, I took the kids including the next door neighbour to church and then up the hills to roll their coloured eggs. I seem to remember from years ago something about rolling your eggs before 12 noon, now whether I made that up or not I'm not sure, but as I thought out loud and mentioned it to the kids, the 8 year old asked

'How, what time did Jesus roll his at?'

And here was me thinking she was receiving good religious education at school, not to mention her grammar! She has frequent blonde moments like these.

After the Easter story we headed of into Glasgow to try and kit the 8 year old out for the wedding. After looking in every shop and then trying every dress on in BHS we settled for a lilac dress and cream cardigan, I was not pleased with the choice but it was the best of a bad bunch to say the least and at least she wouldn't have to go naked!

At some point after the Easter break I became ill and I mean ill, it was a flu virus, some nights I had hot sweats, others I was so cold. The hubby, well he was on nights! At one point I thought I was going to have to get the 10 year old up in the middle of the night to make me a hot drink as I couldn't lift my head and I was so cold, shivering non stop for hours. Doped up on paracetamol I made it to work as I was so busy, for 4 days I struggled and finally I began to feel better, I was so pleased I was coming out the other end and then I woke up covered from head to toe in a blotchy rash. A visit to the doctor confirmed a viral rash and with that came the onset of another bout of viral reactive arthritis, (all the symptoms of arthritis but no lasting effect and no evidence of it in your bloods.) But I am wise to it now and had started on the anti-inflammatory drugs, this was a particularly fierce flare up, so much so I started planning what I should do with the business and how I could run it differently. My bloods were clear as usual, fortunately the doctor as 2 other patients with the same thing and she knows it is not all in my head.

As I recovered my daughter became unwell with the same thing, like me she was ok during the day but struggled at night. As she recovered she took very rosy cheeks, I sent her to school as she had no other symptoms, the school were not happy and asked me to have her looked at by a doctor. I was angry with the teacher, who said to her,
'I don't want what you have got, go and ask the office to phone your mummy and find out what's wrong with you!'
Well, the cheek, as if I would sent her to school knowing she was unwell. I marched to school and removed her, took her straight to the doctor, who very kindly saw her and confirmed she had Slap Cheek, a very infectious virus, infectious to other children and highly infectious to women in the very early stages of pregnancy, well to the baby and she must remain off school for the rest of the week. Whoops. It was 5 days before the wedding, the week before the school broke up for 2 weeks, she was delighted, 3 weeks off school. I phoned the school with my tail between my legs and confirmed the situation. And all I could think about was who was going to look after her, I had so much work on. I managed to convince the hubby to take some holidays which he did and he looked after her, it was the first time in her whole life he has had to take time off to look after her. She then came out in the same rash that I had, confirming to me that although adults don't get Slap Cheek, her symptoms were exactly the same as mine and I had obviously passed this virus on. By the Thursday night my son was overcome with nausea and dizzyness, I decided at that point if we were going to make this wedding he should have the Friday off school to rest and prepare himself for the weekend.

I have really struggled over the last few weeks with where I'm going in life and what's best for my family, hence no blogging. When I worked in the evening I was there for the kids all day and somebody else paid me, now that would not be practical due to the homework and evening activities they do, I prefer to be there in the evening and work during the day and with the hubby usually on nightshift then I have to be there at night. What I do struggle with is when the kids are not well, when I'm not well, when things go wrong, like this morning my boiler broke down, I had to take the morning off to wait for the Gas engineer and school holidays, the hubby has taken the rest of the week off to allow me to put more hours in at the shop and try and catch up on the hours I've lost. I have a queue of customers waiting for things to be embroidered. Ideally I would like to be more home based, I am considering continuing with school wear from the unit in the summer and obviously any other embroidery work that comes along but increasing my eBay business dramatically, I always have the eBay shop running, but it does become a bit neglected due to lack of time. I need to have a serious think and make another plan. I have started to increase my eBay listings in preparation for the summer as I missed the boat last year.

In amoungst my business planning we are trying to finish decorating the house for the communion in 5 weeks time, I have an ironing pile nearly as tall as the 8 year old, the kids have more colds and sore heads and won't stop fighting with each other. On the plus side I have gutted both children's bedrooms so that's a start to decluttering my life and mind.

And the wedding, well that's another story, I am collecting pictures on Wednesday so I hope to post some pictures along with The Wedding Story.

Family Wedding

2008-03-18T12:44:00.004Z

We are soon to go to a family wedding, he is the oldest nephew in the family and is marrying an English girl, the English girl has been married before and has 2 children, they have gone on to have another 2 children together and now decided to marry. All very nice, a family wedding, everyone loves a family wedding - don't they?

They are getting married in Comlongon Castle, near Dumfries, which is set in the most beautiful grounds, a picturesque, perfect wedding setting. As they are marrying on the Sunday at 2pm we are travelling down on the Saturday and staying in a Travelodge the Saturday and Sunday, to avoid arriving crumpled on the day of the wedding, £120 ca ching!

When it was his sister's wedding, the first of the nieces/nephews to marry, we went all out, I must have spent nearly £200 on my full outfit, shoes, hat, bag etc, my daughter was a flower girl and my son a page boy, all the cousins were involved in the bridal party, I felt it a bit ridiculous, there were 4 bridesmaids and 6 or 7 flower girls + page boys. I made very good use of that outfit as I had many occasions that year, all with different company, so I definitely got my monies worth. This time I have no inclination to go 'all out' I grudge the money, mainly because I don't have any! Two years ago when it was my son's and my niece's communion, within a 3 week period, plus my son's confirmation we had to shell out for 2 suits for the hubby and 2 outfits for me + shoes, bag, you know how it is! I managed to get a nice white trouser suit, from Tesco, after hunting all shops known to man for a nice trouser suit, I saw this suit while doing my shopping. I wore the trousers, a nice red top with white crochet cardigan, lovely wedged red patent sandals & white bag for my nieces communion and then 3 weeks later for my son's I changed the top and added the jacket and nobody noticed it was the same trousers, shoes and bag!! Or nobody cared. This year I have the wedding and my daughters communion and the hubby's 40th, so I am thinking of wearing the white trouser suit to the wedding and then I can worry about my daughters communion when I get back. I thought I might add one of these pin on cloth flowers to the outfit, in red, to make it more weddingy and save myself a fortune.

So we have the cost of

the Travelodge - £120
the dinner for 4 + drinks on arrival - let's say £60.00
hubby's kilt - £47.00 + insurance £4.50
son's kilt - £40.00 + insurance £4.50
daughters outfit + shoes - £??.?? still to be bought
my pin on flower - £?? still to be bought
haircuts all round - £20.00 (girl comes to the house)
nails done - £? (hairdresser who comes to the house also does nails, I have no idea how much as I am never this vain, but decided if I wasn't getting an new outfit I should have my nails done)
eyebrows & moustache waxed - £10.00
half bottles of vodka to take to wedding, due to excessive prices of alcohol in Castle - £12.00
drinks at wedding, that we can't avoid - ca ching, ca ching, ca ching!!

On a plus point the bride and groom have specifically said on the invitation that they are not accepting wedding presents due to the expense of having to travel and stay in accommodation - RESULT. But oh no sorry, can't possibly go without a gift of some description + a card and some very nice wedding paper - £20

I am hubby family partied out, when you have 6 sisters and 2 brothers this inevitably leads to many nieces and nephew's and more outfits. My hubby is 8th out of nine children and as the family stands at the moment his oldest sister is 53 and youngest brother is 34, oldest nephew, out of 19 grandchildren, is 29 and youngest is 8 (my daughter), 2 great nieces age 3 and 2 and 1 great nephew, nearly 1, not forgetting the 'add-on children' who come with a parent who marry's a member of the hubby's family of which there are 6. So every year brings a mass of celebrations of varying kinds, 50th, 40th, 30th, 21st, 18th, special wedding anniversaries, communions, we reach the last communion hurdle in May and just when you think there can be no more, the mass of children in their 20's start to meet people and want to marry!

As well as the money and the outfit dilemma, I am apprehensive as the 'sister-in-law' who caused all the bother will be there and she makes my blood boil, that coupled with the fact her husband, the hubby's brother, is being a complete TIT can send me into a complete rage. My sister-in-law who stays at home with her mother has had an operation, I took the kids to visit her when she came out of hospital, one of the 'add-on children' was there and was due to be collected by the TIT, her stepdad, he saw my car outside and phoned into the house to have the 'add-on child' sent out. He is not man enough to come in and face me, he thinks I have done all these terrible things to him and his wife, because his wife said so. I find this deeply offensive considering he has known me for near on 17 years. I wanted to run outside the house that night and scream

ARE YOU A MAN OR A MOUSE? NO YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A COMPLETE AND UTTER TIT, AN ARSEHOLE, HOW DARE YOU TREAT THIS 'ADD-ON CHILD' LIKE THIS, SHE WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF HER DINNER, YOU SPINELESS FUCKER!

aaahhhh does that feel better. But of course I wouldn't lower myself to using such language in front of the children and my mother-in-law might have something to say.......

But I am an adult, I will stand tall, I will smile and I will enjoy myself if it kills me. I will not let these underhand, lying individuals get the better of me.

I came home to discover one of hte nieces has just got engaged - hooorrayyy another family wedding - eventually....can't wait.

I confess to almighty God.......

2008-03-14T16:21:00.004Z

.....that I am not a Roman Catholic but indeed Church of Scotland stuck in a dilemma.

I religiously attended my church (that being Church of Scotland) from Sunday school, right up until the tender age of 16 when I decided staying at home on a Sunday and having a cooked brunch ready for my dad coming home from work and my mum from church was a better, cooler option. When I meet my husband-to-be at the age of 19, who did still attend his church (Roman Catholic) I used to go with him, just to be with him - young love aahhhh, he has such a big family with occassions happening every other week, I found myself never away from the Roman Catholic church. It seemed only natural we should marry within an RC church, however we ommitted the full mass. We went to the class for engaged couples, we married, our children were baptised and I attend with my children on a regular basis, while the hubby works, this until now has been a way of life, no concern to me, I discuss with my children the way things are done in 'my church' and all of a sudden it has become a problem.

Given that I am nearly aahem 36, attended my church for 16 years and starting attending RC church at 19, I have infact, if you haven't worked it out already, been attending said RC church for 17 years! This in itself is not the problem, this is commitment, however, it recently became clear to me, once my daughter receives her first holy communion in May, my family will all receive communion - apart from me. This my dear friends is the problem. I do not feel it necessary to convert and become a catholic. I believe in faith and one God and prayer, I consider myself a good christian person and I don't mean 'christian' person, but what I would like is to receive communion, anywhere.

I have been to many RC churches where the Priest actively encourages anyone, who cannot, for whatever reason, receive holy communion to go up and receive a blessing, the children who have not yet taken their first communion are all blessed and although I have never done it, again, as I didn't feel the need, I decided I would like to receive a blessing at least. There lies another problem, our Priest - God Bless him - is a very ill, older Priest and he has never mentioned 'blessings,' the children who go with their parents for communion simply step aside. It started to bother me, so I decided to speak to the Priest. Priests scare me, I'm always frightened I get my termanology wrong and give myself a showing up. An ideal opportunity arose at my daughters information evening about her confirmation/communion, but before I spoke to the Priest I ran it by a friend, who's brother happens to be a younger, more hip Priest in the next village, advice taken and I approached Father C, I was direct and to the point and more or less said because I couldn't receive communion, being Church of Scotland, but defending myself with the fact I had married and had my children baptised in an RC church, and given that it is openly offered in other RC churches - perhaps that was too far! I would like to receive a blessing. It was difficult to tell how he felt, he simply said in a tone that made me feel as though I was about 6 ' as long as you make it perfectly clear you don't want to receive communion and you would do that by crossing you hands across your chest' Did I have his approval, I'm not quite sure, he said it would be acceptable, I got the feeling he didn't approve. And it's not as if I don't want to receive communion. I discussed it with a group of the mothers to see what they thought, some were non commital, others felt a blessing was appropriate.

My daughters confirmation was last Thursday 6th March, my lovely 19 year old niece was her sponsor. The young hip Priest was present and I decided it would be a good time to try out 'the blessing' check it out before the communion. I'll head for Father T I told the hubby, I'll try the young Priest first I thought, he must have heard me and headed straight to the back of the church leaving me to face Father C, I did, I'm an adult and I deserve a blessing, after the hubby and the 10 yr old. I crossed my hands across my chest and the sign of the cross was drawn on my forehead, I had to stop myself doing a lap around the aisles, who knows where 'our church' will head now, blessings it's a revolution.

I was very proud of my daughter who sat as straight and still as she could the whole service, she light her candle well and was proud to have her big cousin to share this moment with her, I sat chest puffed as I watched her and my niece take their places at the alter, I glanced at my mother-in-law, as she watched her youngest grandchild, last to be confirmed with her cousin by her side, I caught her glance at the hubby. It was a beautiful, special moment. My daughter was so neat and tidy, school uniform, boots shining and hair in 2 even french pleats, meeting into one school bobble (a bobble that matches her tie) Her hair was neat and tidy for fear that the boy sitting behind her would set her hair alight with his candle, it was 'even' that was luck, I'm not 'all that' at french pleating and it met into one bobble, because that's all we could find!

We collected the children and the sponsors from the church hall after the service and 2 mothers mentioned my blessing, perhaps I've started something right enough. I would perhaps like to speak to the Priest further and see what my options are, is it too much to ask that I should be able to receive communion, anywhere.

Oh the dilemma.....

PLAIN BABY CLOTHES

2008-03-06T12:00:00.004Z

I have been once again looking at my stats on http://www.statcounter.com/

Once again I find myself with many Google searches over the last few weeks for plain clothes/plain baby clothes. So I plead to those who come across me in search of plain clothing, please assist me with my research and tell me what you are looking for - garment, colour, size and any other relevant information you may want to share.

I want to up my eBay shop to include a range of plain baby clothing and although I could go down the trial and error route, I would rather know what you want!

So if you can't find a garment or would like to buy online - speak to me.

Time out

2008-03-05T11:51:00.004Z

I have just had the most wonderful weekend in London with my mum.

I thought perhaps it might not go to plan when my daughter developed an extremely high temperature on Thursday night, so much so that her bed sheets were wet with sweat during the night. I decided that my husband would just have to be capable of looking after her, so I left him the medicine and instructions, NHS 24 phone number and their dates of birth, I knew he would remember their birthdays but thought perhaps when he was bombarded with personal questions about the children, he might not actually remember the year they were born. She was much better in the morning so this put my mind at rest and she got the day of school and came with us to collect my mum and take us to the train station. I though she might be deeply upset that I was leaving her, she wasn't!

We took the west coast from Glasgow to Euston station on a very nice Virgin train. The journey was very pleasant and relaxing and on time. We were met by my mum's friend who we were going to visit, she has moved to London to sheltered accommodation to be nearer her daughters and grandchildren, she gave us our Oyster cards and we set off on the underground. We stayed in a guest room in the sheltered accommodation.

On Saturday we went to Covent Gardens and spent time taking in the shops and the entertainment, it was like being abroad, the weather was great, the sun was spliting the sky and there was a fabulous atmosphere. We walked over the Hungerford bridge to see the London Eye, we didn't go on it, I just wanted to see it. There was loads going on - painted men, street dancers, men miming and we watched two young boys, possibly 15-16, of Chinese or similar origin doing 'keepy up' with a football, I stood and recorded them for the full 5 minutes on my phone as my son loves all these fancy moves and even gave them money, something that I never do. I took pictures along the way to show the kids, thinking all the time, how much they would enjoy themselves here, but at the same time enjoying the fact I didn't have to be responsible for them. Our last stop was Trafalgar Square, which was lovely and clean, there were tourists sitting on the lions having their photo's taken, the fountains, apart from some gravel in the bottom, were clear and working. In Glasgow the fountains don't work, the water is green and slimy and usually full of beer cans and the statue of The Duke of Wellington has a traffic cone on its head, although this is now part of it's history, every time the authorities remove the cone it is returned, so they have given up and decided it should remain part of the landmark. Perhaps that's why Nelson's Column is so high up, to keep the Glaswegians from crowning him with a police cone!

We spent the evening at home sipping wine, eating pizza and chatting, I have to say I did most of the chatting, after 2 glasses of wine and it was only Lambrusco, my tongue just wouldn't stop. It was a tiring day, all that fresh air, exercise and underground hoping, but thoroughly enjoyable.

On Sunday morning we walked to the local park, which was a laugh, my hips were sooooo sore, although I never sit down, I don't actually walk anywhere and the previous day had worked areas that quite clearly had not been worked for a while. We met with our friends daughter, who I grew up with as a cousin and her children who are 3 and 15 months, it was only for half an hour but it was too long a way to go and not meet with them.

We then made our way to King's Cross station for our return journey home via the east coast, there had been a freight train accident on the west coast, so our Nation Express train, with not so quite nice a toilet, was very busy, we got back to Glasgow at 8.36pm, on time and I was home for 9.30.

I have learned from this trip that public transport is not a problem and I should try using it more, I did not miss my kids as much as I thought I would, although I did speak to them every day. I did need the break. My mum, although good company, is a pain in the arse - she didn't have enough space, didn't have a shelf in the bathroom to put her glasses on, couldn't work without a routine and took much longer to get ready than me. I am much more adaptable than my mum. Taking 2 pensioners out for the day is worse than taking 2 children, simply because the children hear you and ignore you, the pensioners really just can't hear you and you spend the time, repeating your own or worse still the other pensioners conversation. My mum will go from now on, on her own. I dread the day when she is to old to go on her own and I have to start taking her! And finally I need to learn to work my phone as the 5 minutes I spend videoing 'the football boys' had not saved on my phone and I was deeply disappointed!

I though perhaps taking a trip away would change the children's behaviour - NOT. The hubby did iron the school uniforms, exactly what they needed for Monday and polished my son's shoes, I was quite impressed and happy that I polished my daughters shoes myself. And the house - it was as dirty as I had left it......

Nosey or concerned

2008-02-24T21:34:00.005Z

Manic Mother of Five recently mentioned the fact that she made a conscious decision after the death of Jamie Bulger to go with her instinct and if she felt that something was wrong or not right she would speak up. This got me thinking.

As soon as my children became toddlers and in light also of little Jamie I taught my children a very important phrase and we still stick with it. What made me really ill when Jamie was taken was the fact that he was apparently crying for his mum and people assumed he was with brothers and nobody stopped to ask, this must have ripped his mother apart, knowing people had seen her son and could perhaps have saved his life. Realising if children scream and cry for help people may automatically assume it was 'just a tantrum' I wondered if I would challenge an adult with a tantruming child, the answer is NO, what gives me the right to interfere with someone else's life? With this in mind I taught my children they should indeed scream and shout but they should shout 'This is not my mum/dad!' hoping this would make someone challenge the situation.

I have found myself in 2 situations with my neighbours where I had to decide would it be nosey to see if they were ok or was I just concerned. The first incident was during the night, the hubby was on night shift - surprise, surprise and I wakened to hear next doors smoke detector going off, there was screaming and shouting for water. I immediately worried for my own family, should I wake the kids and get out, we are in a row of terraced houses, should I phone the fire brigade, should I get the ladder to help rescue them? I went out of the front door to see if there were flames raging from the building, there weren't. I went out the back door and checked, no sign of flames. Should I go to the door? I didn't know what to do. Had there been flames raging I would have instinctively known what to do, it would have been more straight forward as they would have clearly needed help, but in this situation it was unclear as to what, if any help, they may have needed . My daughter had wakened, which left me thinking, if I do need to get out, at least I've only got one more child to waken. After a few minutes there was activity in their kitchen, the back door open and I felt it appropriate at that stage to go and ask if they were ok. They were, thankfully. A cd player in their sons bedroom had been on a small table next to the bed and he had fallen asleep with it playing, his quilt had covered it, causing it to overheat, catch fire and with it set the quilt and the rubbish in his bin alight. He had screamed for his mother, huddled in the corner of his bedroom - he was 16 - when his mother in the panic told him 'you should have got out!' his reply was 'I was frightened to open the door, in case it made the fire worse' we think perhaps he had watched to many films! They called the fire brigade anyway to be on the safe side and 2 fire engines came within 20 minutes and removed the offending cd player. I was comforted by the fact I could hear their smoke detector, knowing if I found myself in the same situation that surely my neighbour on the other side would hear mine. I told her this the next day. Her words to me made it clear I had done the right thing 'you were the only person who came to check we were ok' Her neighbour on the other side hadn't appeared and there was a lot of commotion with the smoke detector, shouting and 2 fire engines, you really would have had to have been deaf or not home not to have heard something. Were the other neighbours afraid of being nosey perhaps.

The second incident involved the same neighbours, it was holiday Monday, 12th Feb 2007, I heard a lot of banging and running up and down the stairs, their stairs run up the side of my living room. What was all this noise on a holiday morning, it was only 8.35am, the adults should be at work and the teenager and his friend and the ten year old still sleeping. I looked out of the window and there were 2 ambulances, mmmmm, 2 ambulances, either somebody is really ill or there are a few people ill. You don't want to stare, don't want to be considered nosey. The paramedics were running in and out, this worried me, normally they appear so calm, should I go and see if I can help, was the 10 year old in the house, did she need to be removed, was it the 10 year old who was ill, again what should I do, I got dressed, I felt that was the best thing, to at least be dressed. I saw the son head for the ambulance and take some equipment into the house, then I saw his friend help a paramedic, then I saw the 'shocking machine' This is not good. I watched from the upstairs window as the paramedics took a male, a very grey male out to the ambulance, with tubes and things, I realised at that point that it was the male of the house and the female was more than likely at work, so by deduction this left the teenagers and 10 year old at home. I decided I should be a responsible adult and offer help. I went out to find the son on the phone on his doorstep 'you need to come home' he said. 'P's not breathing' he blurted to me. P was his stepfather. 'Where's you mum?' I said in my authoritative tone, I knew this was a serious situation, my instincts told me. His mother needed to be here. I established quickly that the 10 year old was with her older sister and had stayed the night. 'If you need any help, you come and get me' he was 17 years of age, to young to be dealing with a crisis. I continued getting ready for work and on seeing the older daughter passing, I offered my help of a lift or anything, none of them drive or have a car. They accepted a lift and I dropped them at the hospital, on our journey they talked about the number of times he had been admitted with various things and I thought positive and made my way to work. Little prepared me for the phone call later that morning to say he had died in the ambulance.

Given that the paramedics had used the 'shocking machine' in the house, I can only assume he also died in the house as his 17 year old stepson watched over, if I had been quicker or not worried about being considered nosey I might have been able to removed him from the situation. I was an adult I could have protected him from this memory which will stay with him forever.

He left behind an ex-wife and 2 sons, a partner, 2 stepchildren and a 10 year old daughter. His first anniversary passed last week and it has been a tough year for his family as we have become closer. He was 39, kept himself to himself, drunk, perhaps excessively, in his own home and we were not particularly close, he was just the man who lived next door, but I have felt the devastation that he left behind.

The best laid plans

2008-02-22T13:40:00.003Z

My husband is an electrician's mate, he works doing bank refurbishments and new builds, if they are rewiring a new bank they work day shift and if it's a re-fit/refurb they work a 'night shift' I call it a night shift perhaps I should call it a twilight shift, they work from 5pm to 3am Mon-Friday and those who are keen work at the weekend. Now legally one is not allowed to work a night shift and onto a day shift, so one must have a rest day, so if you want to work Sat & Sun you must have the Friday night off, simple, you work Mon - Thurs twilight, have Friday off and work Saturday and Sunday 8am to whenever, whenever usually being sometime after the dinner is done and dusted and results in wife stressing on a Sunday night after clearing all signs of dinner and starting the back to school routine of supervising bathing children, rising hair after child assures you all the shampoo has been rinsed, polishing shoes & ironing uniforms all while trying to watch Dancing on Ice, Wild at Heart, Dancing on Ice results and Kingdom and should one turn ones back for a split second, one finds oneself watching Hannah Montana or The Simpson's and it is usually a good 15 minutes before one actually realises. In the middle of this mayhem the hubby will phone and cry the words 'What's for dinner? Can you run me a bath?' So one has to start all over, 'where's the pots?' well of course they are in the dishwasher! The simple solution would be to plate the hubby's dinner in the microwave I hear you say, well of course it would be. Or would it? you see the hubby doesn't like re-heated in the microwave potatoes and sure as fate if I leave him something, he comes home to announce he's had something to eat! But anyway, I digress, now although I say legally you must have a rest day, for which I might mention that you get paid for, a change of shift allowance - or something, there is nothing to stop you working overtime on that rest day and then starting your day shift at 1 pm on a Saturday and working until whenever.

So here is how our week, sorry life, goes as a couple.

Monday -7ish am I arise, hubby sleeps, some point during the day hubby arises, I come home at 3pm for kids, hubby leaves at 4pm, at 11pm I sleep, mildly disturbed by hubby around 4am.
Tuesday and Wednesay - are exactly the same
Thursday - I work until 5pm so sister-in-law comes to watch kids and I do not see hubby until the mild disturbance around 4am
Friday - Again I work until 5pm but today mum comes over and watches kids, stays for dinner and a visit, usually she leaves between 9and 10pm and just when I think I've got control of the TV, the hubby walks through the door, after few hours of overtime, butters me up with a bit of chocolate and before I know it I'm watching Family Guy! 'Not another bloody cartoon' I exclaim to which he points out the lack of good programmes on the TV. I go to bed. The hubby having slept most of the day is not tired and sits up watching crap on the TV.
Saturday - Football, the hubby leaves at 9am to go and set up the goals, he is the coach, I arise as he leaves, football over and we go home and have our rolls and bacon, my son, the room child, showers and retreats to play the playstation and my daughter goes out to play with friends, even the Cat goes out to play with her cat friends and her mother from next door and I am once again alone with the housework. The hubby comes home whenever, we go mad and have a late night until perhaps 11.30.
Sunday - We are all up at the one time, the kids have swimming lessons at 9.45 and 10am, hubby leaves for work, we go to the leisure centre, we usually do a trip to Asda on the way home. Hubby comes home whenever and after his bath and dinner he has a wee sleep, watching me iron is rather boring and he doesn't rate my choice in Sunday night viewing either. I go to bed at 10.30 and he sits up for a good few hours preparing his body for the weeks nightshift ahead.

I am an electrician's mates widow! Of course I missed out all the children's activities I deal with during the week or it would have turned into a complete rant.

I did have a point and the point was, the decorators. The decorators work with the hubby on the reburbs and therefore work the same shifts. They are brought up from England and therefore have nothing better to do during the day than sleep in their hotel, so they might as well do a little homer. They were supposed to come on Tuesday but after an extended weekend at home, due to a doctors appointment, didn't come until Wednesday. Fair enough, I am not in a hurry. They said originally they would start with the kitchen and the conservatory and on Wednesday I came home to find they had painted the kitchen and hall ceiling. Yesterday they painted the hall and today, well because of the heavy rain they couldn't come due to the flooding on the road. My poor son who returns from his trip away will come home to find the contents of the hall, my clothes horse and many other 'stick it in son's room' items in his beloved bedroom, I have left a small path to his bed ladders and being a child I'm sure he won't mind the guddle. My instincts want to make the place tidy and homely for him. He's 10, like he'll care.

The football hs been cancelled for tomorrow as 9 out of the 14 players were on the school trip and will be exhausted, a long lie at last.

I now await the final hours until my handsome son returns, they are due back between 6pm and 6.15pm but due to rush hour traffic I reckon they will be late. You know I thought I would really miss him, I felt empty when he left, but it hasn't been long enough, I have not given him a great deal of thought, I am just so proud he went. I leave work at 5 today and I know I will really start to miss him as he gets nearer. I can picture his smiling face as he draws up in the bus and his delight at being reunited with the one person he loves most in the world......yes Angel the cat.

My friend has just sent me this clip from youtube, absolutely fantastic, every mother should see it.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=uFYcmZEOvW4

I'll miss you x

2008-02-18T12:18:00.003Z

Once again it is all go in the Windy household, we never do one thing at a time, that would be ridiculous.

My sons school trip is now iminent, he leaves on Wednesday morning, we have to be at school for 8 am. I pray he goes happy and excited and most of all doesn't look back with a sad, help, I don't want to go face on him, he is such a sensitive soul and just loves his own surroundings. So far he is excited and counting down the days so fingers crossed. I know he'll have a good time, he knows he'll have a good time and as long as we get him away on the bus we'll be laughing, so to speak. I will then start the countdown until he is safely back in my arms and dread those final hours when he is due back as the gut wrenching, missing & longing to see him feeling sets in as he draws nearer. My son has never been away more than one night, not long enough to truly miss him. I will set him off with the parting words 'Have a great time' I will keep 'I'll miss you' deep inside.

With my daughter's communion coming up in May, it is time for the house to have a lick of paint, well actually it time for the kitchen and conservatory to be painted, it is after all 21 months since they were completed in the week running up to my son's communion. Our family accepted the unpainted kitchen, conservatory and upstairs loo as they were so impressed to see these new developments that hadn't been there 4 weeks earlier for her confirmation. But 2 years later we might not get away with the unpainted rooms. I've been in such a guddle since, I haven't had the time or the inclination to paint, one excuse after another. The plan went into action to 'sort' the house a week past on Saturday, the painter came and gave us a price, a start date and a list of the quantity of paint etc. the next day, my friend, the joiner came and shelved my bedroom cupboard that the water tank had been removed from and ever since it has been operation clear out, every cupboard, every bit of paperwork has been binned, recycled, shredded where appropriate, I have one kitchen drawer and 2 small kitchen cupboards to go and the whole house, well apart from the kids rooms, which are freshly decorated, but do need a good clear out, will have been sorted and then I can go back to being a normal functioning person who has time to spend blogging and ebaying and running a business in a less stressed out & frantic manner.

The painters start tomorrow, I have decided to go for the show house, neutral look throughout the house and settled for Magnolia for the kitchen and the hall, Soft Wheat for the conservatory and Cocoa Mist for the living room, I have brown leather in the conservatory and cream leather in the living room, so thought I'd pull the whole house together, removing the Velvet Plum and Ancient Earth bold colours that currectly reign. I could have spent hours picking colours, but decided to go for the colour most like the plaster in the conservatory - because I like the colour of the plaster! and for the living room, I picked the nicest browny colour on the chart, I could have bought sample pots and spent hours deliberating in different lights, like my mother would do, or just go for it, so go for it I did. At least it will be clean and by the time I get the cutains and pictures and bit's and pieces all back in place I'm sure it will look fine.

This of course will keep me busy while my son is away. And after all that is said and done I still have my weekend in London to look forward to. Now I won't see my children from Friday morning until Sunday night, when they will be tucked up in bed, sleeping and they won't see me until Monday morning, but I won't have the same 'missing you' feeling as they will be at home with their dad, my family all together.

Another night on the town

2008-02-13T21:47:00.004Z

Well do I feel like a celebrity this week, if only I had their money!

I have received my second award this week from Maggie May

Being a non drinker I have cracked open another packet of tea bags and I accept my award with the greatest of pleasure.

I also have the greatest pleasure in passing it on to the following people

I would also have passed it on to Manic mother of five, Froginthefield and swearing mother but I was beaten to it and they have already been given the award.

The Award Ceremony

2008-02-12T23:49:00.001Z

I have been given this award by Mid-lifer, Sparx and Maggie May with the following instructions;

I love being a part of the blogging community and part of all the friendships that I've formed so I wanted to give a blog award for all of you out there that have Excellent Blogs. By accepting this Excellent Blog Award, you have to award it to 10 more people whose blogs you find Excellent Award worthy. You can give it to as many people as you want but please award at least 10.

Now the only issues I have with Awarding 10 others are everyone else seems to have it already. So I would like to thank everyone who comes over to see me and support me. I love you all. I accept this award in my best sky blue fleecy pyjamas.

What I did want to do and can I figure it out at 12.15 am on a Tuesday night, sorry Wednesday morning. I wanted to put the names mid-lifer, Sparx and Maggie May so that they could act as links to their sites, everyone else seems to be able to do it, why can't I?

So if you can shed some light I would appreciate it.

I'm a survivor

2008-02-05T17:01:00.000Z

Well I survived the weekend and I have come out the other end a calmer person.

All issues have been dealt with and my mind is slowly clearing;

Issue number 1; Kitten at vet for spaying - done.

Angel was a poor little soul, I collected her from the vets after work on Friday, she looked at me with big 'Puss from Shrek' sad eyes. I got her home the kids and my mother eagerly waiting and on strict instructions not to lift her. She has a large shaved patch on her left back side with a small neat cut and a single stitch. She got out the 'cage' and snarled and hissed at everyone who went within a few feet of her, she was jumping to her usual places and then not having the strength and falling off. I felt terrible, however, she settled down and is now more or less back to normal and I know it is for her benefit in the long run. Stitch to come out of Friday.

Issue number 2; kit daughter out for First Holy communion - done.

The plan was, as hubby was working, to leave my son with my mother and take my daughter by myself and get 'the outfit'. I decided after pay day was the best time to take her, obviously. My mum had said that she would have liked to come, but not being Roman Catholics ourselves, we are not that familiar with the whole rigmarole, for my son, we hired a kilt. End of. But I explained I wanted to get it now, before it got too busy and so that there was more choice. As it happens, hubby came home from work on Friday and announced 'I'm having a day off tomorrow!' 'Great, you can watch the 10 yo and I'll take my mother to get the 8 yo's outfit' I said. The whole experience was most enjoyable. As we approached the shop I commented on the dresses in the window, Mary, who was just entering the shop, back from her break, waited inside the shop and said 'Right Hen, come on in, an I'll serve ye' She took us downstairs, she was great, very organised. 'Right Granny, you sit there, mum you leave yer bag wi' Granny, so that ye don't need tae watch it. Don't worry Granny, I'll bring her oot wi' every dress and let ye see' Mary said. So we knew exactly where we were, Mary picked a few dresses and we tried them on and decided what we liked and what we didn't, narrowing down our choice, with each dress 8 yo paraded out from the back of the shop with a big grin or a not so big grin depending on the dress. But all the 8 yo could think about was shoes. We picked the dress and my daughter had now spotted the other girls were trying on veils and tiara's. I had already decided I would purchase her accessories either another day, like next pay day, or perhaps on eBay, where they may be considerable cheaper, however, I had thought she could try the things on and then I could look at what suited her and then I would know what I was looking for elsewhere. I said to Mary 'Can she try them on, but I might come back for them' 'course you can' she said, she really was so helpful. We tried on the first veil and it was perfect, her dress is plain but stunning and the veil was likewise. '£40 for a veil' I announced when confronted with the price tag, by this time mum had got cosy with another Granny and they were comparing families and grandchildren and both deciding with each other what child suited what. At that my mum said with a wink 'just get everything, while you're here and then we know it all goes' So we did, get everything - tiara, veil, little handbag, gloves, tights, shoes and of course the dress, I drew the line at a parasol, which my daughter desperately wanted. As we made our way to the til, my mum said 'I'll pay for everything' we then had the little 'no, you won't, not all of it,' 'yes I will' nonsense. Did I mention the underskirt, I think I forgot! Mum paid and said we would sort it out later, that was fine with me, we would sort it out later. A grand total of £254! Now I know it's not about being the best dressed and I know it's all about the religion, had I been on a tighter budget I may have picked a cheaper veil, had I known my mum was paying, well she might have got the parasol! But it's my only daughter, my mums only granddaughter and my MIL's youngest grandchild out of 19 grandchildren and my hubby works very hard, 5 nights and the weekend to provide for his family, so on this one occasion, she got to pick whatever she wanted (apart from the parasol) regardless of price because she is a very special little girl.

Issue number 3: visit old friend in new house - done.

My friend, who is not old in age, well she's 35 and 3 weeks older than me, does that count! We have been friends for a long time and she moved house back in October, I felt terrible that I hadn't been to see her in her new house. So finally on Sunday we did 'the visit' and I was even able to use my TomTom, the hubby got me for Christmas, to get there as I really didn't know where I was going, the rest of the time I have just pretended not to know. We had a rare old blether, drank tea and ate cakes. It was a lovely way to spend a Sunday afternoon. we won't leave it so long the next time.

I realised on Monday morning the stress of the last week as been cause by non other than the old pre-mental tension. Yes pre-mental. That is what my friend calls it, I think it explains my emotions better and I'm sticking with it. So this week I will remain mental and in a few days I'll be post-mental. On Sunday night, I tried to quickly brush round the living room and give it a quick dust, while the hubby and 10 yo watched the TV, I very quickly fell out with the brush and stormed from the room in disgust, after tripping over the 'spare TV' on the floor. On Monday I couldn't careless that the living room was thick with dust and started clearing cupboards and now that it's Tuesday, fuck it, I made pancakes with the kids, told them that was their dinner and started blogging! First time I have baked, ever, with my kids and I haven't shouted once, although the kids have fallen out with each other.

No wonder my husband doesn't understand me!

Who'd be a woman?

PS my spell checker is not working on this laptop, so please forgive any errors.

Frazzled brain.......

2008-01-31T14:08:00.001Z

It's all go here in the Windy household, sometimes I think my mind will explode.

In 19 days time my son, the 10 year old, takes his first school trip, 3 days and 2 nights away from home to an activity centre. From the day and hour he found out about this trip - at the tender age of 6, he has maintained 'I'm not going!' The only house, other than his own, that he will stay comfortably at is my mothers. So last February came and it was time to book up to go. We had discussed the lead up to the trip last year, his very good friend M was going, M is autistic and he was going, he had done a practise dinner at our house, food provided by his mother, but cooked by me and on the table for 5.30pm sharp to avoid meltdown. M went and loved it, even though coke was not on the menu, he went armed with his last bottle of coke for the bus journey. This obviously played on my sons mind and he said he would think about going, he appreciated how hard it was for M to go and not have his mum's food, his double quilt on his single bed, his coke, his exact diet - 5 fish fingers, 2 chicken nuggers and McCain homes fries at 5.30pm. I did not pressure or force my son's decision, although I did point out that if he didn't go , he would have to stay at school and when everyone came back, he would at that point wish he had gone, a little gentle persuasion, I thought.

We started then having practise sleepovers, we started more frequent sleepovers at Granny's, then his friend in the next street and finally at M's house, although M's brother is my son's 'best friend' they come as a pair, being so close in age.

There was a discussion in school about the trip and a brochure home. He had turned a corner and he was going. I explained it was ok to go and know that he will miss his mum , dad, sister and most of all the cat, but it will only be a few days and he would have a great time and it will all be over to quickly. He is now excited about going, they have decided who's sleeping where and he has read the brochure over and over, I have discussed his case, clothes, shoes and anything else that it on the strict list of thing to take, everything must be named, even down to the pants, oh no sorry 'boxers' for this trip, aparently it's not cool to wear pants when you're 10! They wear old clothes as everything gets muddy and wasted, I will have to buy him new pyjama's as he's taken such a stretch. My little 10 year old. He has turned out to be a confident, charming, funny, handsome young boy and I'll miss him sooooo much.

He has already decided he doesn't think he will do York next year, in P7, as it's for 5 days and 4 nights! We will start the gentle persuasion on his return. My 8 year old daughter has already decided she will not be going on any of the trips either, but I have another year before I need start working on her. So I have hit mild panic over my son being in the capable hands of other adults for 3 days, a situation totally out of my control and I don't like it! But being the mature adult that I am, I know he will have a great time and I can worry once he is away and not bother with the worry until then.

Today the kitten, my little Angel has been at the vet to be spayed, I left her there at 8.55am and felt sick to the pit of my stomach, will she ever fogive me, putting her through such an ordeal?

Yesterday I booked the hubby's 40th birthday party for August and have started arranging the buffet in my head.

Tomorrow I am taking my daughter to look at communion dresses, the buffet was planned in my head early January. Hubby's buffet will just be an extension I think.

And on top of all this I have been arranging dates, train tickets, senior citizen railcard, what to wear, what to take and the picnic for the train which I recently planned in my head, for my trip to London at the end of the month.

My poor brain is frazzled, why I find it impossible to think of one thing at a time, God only knows.

Help me out!

2008-01-29T09:34:00.000Z

It seems to me that I am missing a very important business opportunity in providing parents and guardians of small children what they need.

I check http://www.statcounter.com/ on a regular basis to see who's checking me out. I have spotted this for a long time and did touch on it before, but now, with your help, I am contemplating taking action.

Apart from visitors from other people blogs, visitors find me through Google searches, the most common Google searches keep popping up, there are 3 in particular;

how to cook a whole chicken
sexual disappointment
plain clothing/baby clothes

Let me assure you the missed opportunity that parents/guardians require is not how to cook a whole chicken nor sexual disappointment, those may feature in your life, but they are not my missed business opportunity, might I suggest following the instructions on the packaging to cook your chicken, unless of course you have killed it yourself and perhaps a good book to enhance your sex life. So by deduction 'plain clothing' is the one.

Now for anyone who has just joined me, I have an embroidery company, I run it from an industrial unit and to summarise I sell school clothing, corporate clothing and have an eBay shop. Being that embroidery usually gets done on plain clothing, I have suppliers who sell such garments. It seems clear to me that I have the tools to bring plain clothing to the world via eBay and do I? well no. But I am putting this into plan.

So what I need from you, my fellow bloggers and parents of children who may require, or at one stage may have required plain clothing, is to let me know what you found difficult to get;

perhaps a specific garment
or a specific colour

The range of plain clothing I can bring to the world are, for example;

Baby t-shirts, including organic
Baby polo shirts
Baby long sleeved tops
Baby layered long sleeved tops
Baby micro fleece
Baby hooded sweatshirt
Baby hat, including organic
Baby skip cap

These garments range from 0/3 months and right through into toddler and young children. Plain clothing goes right through the ages even into adult but I thought I would start with the younger range.

This, for me, is a bit of market research and I appreciate your assistance, rant to me, tell me about the time you couldn't get...........regardless of what age. If you want/wanted plain clothing and couldn't get it then I want to know.

Another question. Do you buy on EBay? What do you buy? Even if it's not clothing, let me know.

I often read other posts and can't think of anything to say so don't comment, but I want to know you're reading so let me know you're there, leave me a comment, even a Hi.

I look forward to reading you. xx

DON'T QUIT

2008-01-25T16:47:00.000Z

When things go wrong as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems up hill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
and you want to smile but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit, rest if you
must but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twist and turns, as
everyone of us sometimes learns, and many a
failure turns about when she might have won
had she stuck it out; Don't give up though the
pace seems slow - You may succeed with
another blow.

Success is failure turned inside out-The
silver tint of the clouds of doubt, and you
never can tell how close you are,
it may be near when it seems so far;
so stick to the fight when you're hardest hit
It's when things seem worse that you must
not quit.

A little poem I have hanging in the shop to remind me running your own business is worth it.

London bound

2008-01-21T13:25:00.000Z

I am taking a trip, a trip with my mother, we are going to London for the weekend. My mother is so worried about me going on this trip, so worried about the fact I am leaving my children and my kitten with my husband, I fear she will not enjoy the trip for worrying!

My mum's friend, of some 40+ years has moved to London, I have no idea what area of London, simply because I can't remember. Both her girls have lived there for many years and she and her man friend decided they would move, her man friend has 2 sons, both living in England, so why not take the bull by the horns and move there too. Simple, move and be closer to your family, not so simple when your man friend turns round after the decision has been made and plans put into place and he decides 'he's not going' no reason, no discussion, end of. So what do you do, well she did it, she went and she went alone. Got herself a nice little retirement flat and moved, Glasgow to London. Of course it wasn't that simple but the long and short of it is she's gone. She is so desperate for my mum to go and see the flat and the area and really just reassure her she hasn't made a big mistake. 'How can moving to be nearer her 2 daughters and 2 grandchildren, by one daughter, be a mistake' I assure my mother.

It has been about 18 years since my mother has flown, that was her last holiday abroad, and apart from some holidays with my gran before she was ill, my mother hasn't had a holiday. It is difficult, I would love to have her with us, but we rarely get time as a family unit and she makes such a fuss, are you warm enough, are you to hot, OMG watch what you are doing! it drives the hubby mental and I don't need the added stress to be honest. Most of her close friends have partners/husbands and of course they go on holiday with them. It is not easy being 60+ and on your own. She has never had another relationship since my dad.

December 2005 after a day with me and the kids, mum drove home and called me in a terrible state asking for the NHS 24 number, my immediate thought was she had been mugged, beaten, assaulted, 'I fell and bumped my head and I've got a big lump' she told me. The hubby was on night shift, I bundled my sleeping daughter in her pyjamas and coat and my son quickly re clothed himself as I secured the house and we went straight over, a 25 minute journey which seemed to last for hours, I called NHS 24 on the way, hands free, of course and asked someone to call her and keep her talking until I got there, I was frightened she became unconscious. It turned out she had slipped on sheet ice, banged her head and knocked herself out, on waking tried to scramble to her feet and banged her head again, then realising she had hurt herself and was on the ground and her head was sore and she was dizzy, banged her head for a third time. We took her to casualty, I called the hubby who came to take the children away as casualty on a Saturday night is not always pleasant, they said she was ok but would only release her if she had someone stay with her and keep an eye on her. She came to stay with us for a few days, not only had she hurt her head but it had shattered her confidence and given her a huge and I mean huge black eye and the whole right side of her face was black and blue. Two years on and she still experiences 'sensations' in her head and the weather seems to affect it. As a result of this she is afraid to fly because of the cabin pressure which may affect her head and once your up there, there's not exactly a lot you can do 'STOP I need off!' So flying to London is not an option, driving herself is not an option, going on the bus is an option, she would feel ok going on the bus herself, but it takes a long time to get there so train seems the best option, but she didn't show willing.

'I'll come with you the first time, if you want' I said 'it'll let you see the journey and if you feel ok for the next time'

'Would you? I'll pay' she said with a big grin

'Sorted' you don't need to offer that twice.

We are now coordinating the details, a date that suits me, my mum's friend and the accommodation within the flats, they have a twin room for relatives/friends to use for the very nice price of £15 per night. We are hoping to go the last weekend in February. We won't have long there but it's really for the sole purpose of the train journey. We will arrive, all being well, on the Friday at dinner time, have all day Saturday and leave about 3pm on the Sunday.

Mum made me clear it with the hubby first to see that he was OK with watching the kids, it will involve him taking the weekend off work, he seemed quietly pleased as he made eyes at my daughter, who smiled back, knowing she will be able to wrap her daddy round her little finger and they won't have a proper cooked meal for 3 nights or any sort of routine and the hubby will manage fine because there will only be looking after children and of course the cat involved, there won't be any washing, housework or ironing done and I will return to him saying looking after children is a doddle. mmmmmm

So do I run myself ragged and make sure there is a uniform left ready for the Monday morning, instruct the children what to wear over the weekend or do I leave it and let them get on with it. To my surprise I may find that all the years of nagging may have paid off and he might polish the school shoes on the Sunday night and iron the uniforms. Every Sunday we go through the same infuriating conversation. I normally iron on a Sunday night because the TV is quite good, give me good TV and an ironing board and I'm fit to go. Ironing complete and out come the shoes and the polish, cue infuriating conversation;

'if you'd said I would have polished the shoes' he says

'but I always polish the shoes on a Sunday night' I say with gritted teeth, I do polish them during the week, but they get an extra good polish on a Sunday

'do you want me to do them?' he says

'no, it's OK' I say, because I'm not doing anything else so I might as well sit here and be a martyr and do them myself, like I do everything else in this bloody house, my inside voice rants.

And you see I know I am to blame, because all I have to say is 'can you polish the shoes' but no I want him to use his initiative and go and get the shoes all by himself, or the hoover or the bleach or whatever else looks like it needs doing, I don't even mind cleaning if he even thought about tidying. MEN!

So anyway, didn't mean to rant, I obviously get my knickers in a twist about the state of my house on my return, whereas my mother is genuinely concerned that the hubby will manage with the children and that they might miss me and I might miss them. I will miss them, but I will not be devastated, they have been away with the hubby before, to his sister's up north, I think they went Friday to Monday and had a great time. When I worked in the evenings from the kids were babies, the hubby had his own routine and could manage to bathe, feed and put them to bed and even wash the dishes.

I am going to have me time, I am going to download my favourite music on my phone and hope that my mother doesn't want to have a conversation all the way to London, I'm going to hopefully manage to take one of the kids DS's and do brain training and sudoku myself silly and most of all, relax. Although now that I think about it, my mother is the type of person when we go to McDonald's she sits and looks at her meal and doesn't know where to start, I lay out the napkin, open the box, put the chips in the lid, gathering the rubbish into on happy meal box as I go, open the tea, pass the milk, everyone sorted, get my jacket off and my mother is still faffing about wondering where to put her coat, gloves, scarf, handbag and umbrella.

Ok, maybe not relax, but a bit of time away from the children.

Sad and empty

2008-01-16T16:27:00.001Z

30th August 2001 was a night that I will never forget, a night that I will keep with me deep in my heart forever and the very reason for this journey.

I have always felt watched from the inside of my front door, a strange feeling, going to the bathroom downstairs in the middle of the night has me racing back up the stairs, the thought of someone at my back, watching me. It doesn't happen now, but then we've had the upstairs toilet put in, so I rarely go downstairs in the middle of the night.

Michelle and I were going to Janet's house for the evening, we were having a little ladies get together, Janet's sister was home from Australia, she would be the evening's entertainment. I had worked with Janet in the hotel where I meet the hubby and Michelle was her best friend. The hotel had a popular lounge with live singers on Friday and Saturday and a disco on a Thursday night, it was the in place to be, it had a long bar which remained 'heaving' all night at the weekend. Michelle's husband came to work in the pub and worked on the door as a 'bouncer' with my future hubby and they soon became best friends, Michelle then joined the work force and became bar staff like the rest of us. The pub was the centre of our world, we worked there, socialised there, meet friends and boyfriends there. We had all since left the pub and had young children. Our other friend and co-worker Evelyn had decided not to come along that evening as it was her daughters first birthday the next day and she was having a party, she did not trust herself not to get carried away with the night and be suffering the next day.

Armed with a half bottle of vodka and a bottle of lemonade, those were the days when I could handle my drink, we got a taxi to Janet's house, there was a nice comfortable amount of people already there, her sister Linda from Australia, her other sister Joan, incidentally she had also worked in the pub and a few neighbours. We got our drinks and joined the others, Janet had made a lovely buffet.

I sat back and listened to the conversations in the room, taking everybody in, one neighbour in particular, Lorraine, had the strangest hairstyle I was totally drawn to her, I felt as though I couldn't look her in the eyes as I was so obsessed by her hair. The evening was a good laugh, Linda had left quite early as she was going home the next day so Joan had left with her. I was quite comfortable with the people in the room, we were all laughing and talking and at that, right out of the blue Lorraine said 'what age are your kids?' she was abrupt and I was taken aback 'eh 5 and nearly 2' I said. She kept looking at me and looking away, a bit like the eagle eyed Action Man figure. Between the hair, the abruptness and the rapid eye movement this confirmed, to me, she was in fact a weirdo! Michelle was very familiar with her, laughing and joking and I found this a bit strange, I was confused, who was this strange women? I was further confused when they started talking about church, Michelle was brought up a Roman Catholic and is my daughter's Godmother but she did not agree with many of the Catholic ways and certainly didn't go to church unless it was a special occasion, a fine role model as a Godmother, I know, but she would look after my children well. It then became quite worryingly clear, it was LORRAINE, the penny dropped. I knew Lorraine, Michelle had spoken about her often, it hadn't clicked when we were introduced. As a child, Michelle was surrounded by animals, they were, however, not real live animals, she knows now they were spirit animals. This obviously freaked her mother out and she was continually told not to be ridiculous, as with many children she got older and blocked these spirits out, realising only she could see them. After her mother passed, her younger sister wanted to go to the spiritualist church so Janet introduced them to Lorraine, who has 'the power,' she can communicate with the spirit world. She had been plagued with spirits all her life who wanted to communicate with her. Michelle had gone to school with Lorraine and as a young child Lorraine continually carried rosary beads and prayed, as she got older she learned to control the spirits and switch on and off. Realising it was LORRAINE, I said, 'I didn't realise it was you, Michelle has told me all about you' while I panicked thinking I hope she wasn't able to read my mind about the hair thing and that was why she was so abrupt. We chatted about the whole spirit thing, how, why, where, when, she told us that her middle son also has 'the gift' and she worries about him, she can help him deal with it, but would that be too much, should she encourage him or should she leave him to discover and ask questions for himself, he is aware of what is going on with his mother. The conversation was fascinating, she was not strange at all, well! Michelle and her sister had gone to the spiritualist church with Lorraine and while seated Michelle had seen a small white Scottie dog walk into the church and sit down at a ladies feet, watching this happen and realising that it was a church and dogs are not commonly allowed in the church freaked her out ever so slightly but she was keen to stay. Since her son C had been able to talk he had talked openly to John, John Brannan, this was Michelle's brother, who had died in infancy, we were all sure this would pass but he was still doing it when he went to school. He sat in my living room one day 'oh Hi John' he said, 'is that John in' I asked 'yes' he said, looking at me as if I was stupid, as if, there he's right there, silly me! Lorraine offered to talk to C and help Michelle, 'you know you can communicate with your mother, if you want to' Lorraine said 'I'll help you when your ready' Michelle decided she didn't want to deal with this conversation and so it was changed. It was only us left, Michelle, myself, Janet and Lorraine, I had worked my way through almost all of the half bottle of Vodka, house measures! Lorraine was still occasionally looking at me and again she said 'are you ok with this?' 'I love it' I said 'I'm fascinated' 'good' she said. I left for the toilet and returned to a silent room. 'What!' Michelle said 'it's ok, she'll be fine' 'What! what is it?' I said. 'Well you see there's a man here for you and he's been here all night, waiting patiently, he's waited a long time to speak to you' Lorraine said. Immediately with a nervous laugh I asked if it was my dad or my papa, you see I had been told by a fortune teller that my dad was happy in spirit world and he would never appear again. 'It's your dad,' she said nodding suggesting I knew that already. I was overcome with emotion and burst into tears, Vodka fuelled tears. I asked her if that was who she had been looking at all night and why she asked about the kids, she needed verification that she had the right person. She told me he had followed me out to the hall as I had gone to the toilet and that he liked the hall, although I knew that already.

'Can I come and sit next to you' she said
'Yes' I sobbed
'Would you mind if I chant, it helps open up the channels' she sat on the arm of the chair next to me with her arm around my right shoulder and the other hand resting on my left shoulder and began to chant, now at this point I thought, even in my distressed state, if I didn't know this girl and I had paid money to see her (not that she accepts money, she sees this as her calling, to pass messages where required) I would have been overcome with laughter, the chanting was unusual to say the least, but I continued to cry, I looked at the girls as I thought they might have been in laughter, but no, they were deadly serious they obviously knew how good she was.
She told me all about my dad, he had an affliction, something he was born with, he had no control over it, luckily I had not been born with an affliction. She told me he had loved my mother, there would never have been another woman, he could not see passed my mother, but the affliction was too much. 'Can you feel the love?' she asked, I felt nothing, she had her hand on my back, 'I wish you could feel it, it's so intense' 'I can't feel anything' I cried. I wanted so much to feel it, something, anything, a glimmer of my dad, the dad I had when I was young, the one before alcohol had got a complete grip off, but nothing. I was totally unaware of the fact that anyone else was in the room with us now, I wailed. 'He's here now, talk to him, tell him what you have to say' said urged. And what did I say, nothing, I was lost for words, caught up in the emotion, sobbing like a 2 year old and realising this was all a bit strange, I felt a bit stupid, I looked at her, knowing she wanted me so much to feel what she felt. Her closing sentence at that point was 'write him a letter, a letter about how you feel, not about what he put your mum through but about you, leave it lying about and he will heal you, Ok,' I nodded, two things about this sentence struck me, 1. if considering a letter I would have automatically started with what my mum had been through, so that was important to have that pointed out that this should be about me and secondly and most disturbingly 'and he will heal you' now until this point I had not realised I was in need of healing, she suggested lighting candles and gazing into a mirror and he would come to me, this freaked me out, I was not quite ready to deal with this. But I did say I would write the letter, so here we are 6.5 years later and this is what this whole journey has been about, getting to the stage where I can write this letter. Up until now I have been unable to deal with the emotional upset of facing it and this blog has helped me to do this and of course the support of my fellow bloggers. She also said to me 'don't tell your mum about this evening, your dad will heal her in his own way and she will know' I never have spoken to my mother about this as I thought by now he may have come forth to her and she would have mentioned it, but perhaps when I write the letter, he will step forward and make himself known.

I cried all the way home in the taxi, I woke the hubby up and cried to him for hours and of course he thinks all that stuff is 'shite' The next day at the 1 year olds party, I turned up with a bright red scabby nose and half shut eyes. I was amazed but sad, in effect she made me grieve, I thank her for bringing him to me or perhaps I should thank him for bringing her to me. But I look upon that night with affection, love and memory but also call it among my friends who were there as 'the night that devastated my life' I still feel like that now, I have felt deep sadness and emptiness ever since, but then I suppose that is how you feel when you loose someone. God that's it, that's what I feel grief, I have just this minute realised this must be the way people feel. 6.5 years later and I'm getting it, the realisation is happening, God I'm so slow, I always new I would write the letter but there has never been the right moment and now that time has come. I have thought about it often, but end up in tears and put it off. I had thought about the fact that instead of leaving it lying about the house that I might go and put it on his grave, which I think I've been to twice and maybe finally I can move on.

I took my daughter to the toilet in the middle of the night, she must have been about 2, as I crouched before her she looked past me 'who's that man?' she said 'what man?' I asked 'that man standing at the front door' she said 'that'll be my dad' I said confidently. For a long time after 'that night' I experienced feelings especially when I was standing at the kitchen sink, looking out to the garden, I would feel as if someone was blowing on my neck, it freaked me and I asked him to stop and one night I woke up to see a very bright light, like a star, about head height, it lasted a good few seconds and it was gone, I squinted through sleepy eyes to try and work out what it was. All gone, nothing since, perhaps I wasn't very open to his signs, perhaps because I asked him to stop, maybe he got fed up waiting for the letter. Who knows.

17th May

2008-01-13T15:11:00.000Z

The journey jumps from 1991 to 2001 so rather than detail 10 years of my life I thought I would put the important points in bullet points;

meet the hubby Oct 1991
got job in General Accident Nov 1993 just until I found something else
bought a one bedroom flat together March 1995
got engaged 17th May 1995, my 23rd birthday
got married 17th May 1996, my 24th birthday
went into labour 17th May 1997 @ 6am, my 25th birthday and 1st wedding anniversary, felt compelled to tell every nurse who entered.
1.08am 18th May 1997 bouncing baby boy finally entered the world, 12 days late
1st maternity leave, General Accident becomes CGU, I return part-time evenings, until I find something else
July 1998 move to 3 bedroom house
3.30am 1 Dec 1999 waters break and labour begins, get to hosp at 6am and beautiful baby girl arrives at 7.27am, 1 day early, didn't even get to the labour suite or get all my clothes off, delivered in the room they examine you in. I am proud to say no stitches for either birth.
Best friend delivered my Godson 7 weeks and 6 days later, she was not so fortunate on the stitches side. And I had told her it was a doddle only hours after having number 2, omitted to tell her it took me 11 months to get over number 1!!
2nd maternity leave and CGU becomes Norwich Union, return part-time evenings, just until I find something else you understand
Hogmany 2001, best friend stays over as her hubby was working, trying to settle a 4 and a half year old, a 2 year old and a 23 month old godson in the early hours of the morning after several drinks took it's toll as my 2 year old refused to stay in any bed and I annoyingly shouted, don't have any more children, my best friend was already in that club and hadn't breathed a word, sat all night pouring her own drinks making us think she was drinking. She forgave me and I forgave her for not dealing with the children in her soberer state! Bouncing baby girl born 19 Sept 2002. Undamaged by the comments of her Aunty.
Finally left Norwich Union after 4 years full time and 7 years part-time

Doesn't sound much when you put it in bullet points, but it fills in the 10 year gap.

We like the 17th May, my daughter always feels left out in May as she has to wait until Dec for cards. This year is her first Holy Communion, in our area the Communions are always in June, but this year the date set is........Sat 17th May, would you believe it! We will be over run with cards this year.

ME ME ME

2008-01-08T22:03:00.000Z

As I haven't had a holiday from work since June, well apart from the 2 days during the October week I decided I would have 2 whole weeks off at Christmas. My justification being the suppliers are closed and I needed a break. The hubby was also off for 2 week, this was strange, he has never had 2 weeks off to stay about the house, he only takes 2 weeks off to go abroad and we've only been abroad twice in 10 years, but he is now salary paid and therefore still gets paid when he is off, this is also strange. Monthly pay is even stranger, I was always monthly paid, things were easy, I got a monthly wage and all the main bills came out of my bank account and then we lifted hubby's weekly wages and bought shopping and take aways etc. etc. We have been married for nearly 12 years and still haven't got around to arranging a joint bank account.

We had a very nice Christmas Day, the kids got up at 8am, my kids are great, when I was young I was up every hour from 1 am and my mum would give in and we would get up and be knackered all day. The kids slept all night and my daughter got up at 7.50 am and said she better stay in bed with us until 8 because Santa has the whole world to deal with, but he's always been by 8am (years of listening to me) at 8.01 am she decided to go and get her dressing gown and her brother, at that her brother opened his bedroom door and she was back in bed with us as quick as a flash, she obviously thought Santa might still be about!! We opened the gifts, had breakfast and I went to visit Granny, who unfortunately had no idea it was Christmas. Mum came for dinner and stayed the night, it was all very pleasant, we played Uno Extreme for a looooong time. We had delivered all our presents to my in-laws on Christmas Eve which meant Boxing Day could be a pyjama day. We went to visit my mother-in-law on the 27th, I had bought both my mum and MIL lovely Marks and Spencers pyjamas, one size 14 and one size 18, exact same pyjama's and of course you can guess what happened, my mum opened her pyjamas to exclaim 'size 18' whoops, I quickly called my MIL to explain and swapped them over on the 27th and came home via Currys with a 37" TV which the hubby has been promising to buy himself for a long time. Nice.

On hogmany we went to my best friends house, again it was a pleasant evening spend with my friend, her husband and their 2 children, my friends sister and her boyfriend, their mum and dad and a friend who was on a trial separation from his wife and in need of some good company. My friends 7 year old son was sleeping on the couch for 10.45 and missed the whole party. We celebrated the bells, I went mad and had 3 Smirnoff Ice before midnight and spent the rest of the night with tea. Shortly after the bells my friend's, sister's, boyfriend, did you get that, lets call him Ian, brought out his Wii, which they had brought from Wigan with them, on the train and he was delighted to know that my daughter had brought her DS Lite charger as his DS Lite had run out of power, now let me set the picture, he's 29, she's 38 and they have no children, this was obvious when they set up the Wii and my son being 10 and a half said 'Can I go first?' and he was told 'No Children allowed' Ha Ha Ha I laughed as I said 'You can't bring out a Wii with 3 non sleeping children and not let them play' My son was on top form it was great, he was slagging the adults, beating the adults and enjoying the company, he obviously felt totally comfortable as he commentated on the games and made us laugh. A second child fell asleep at about 2.3o leaving my 2 still standing. But at 4.30 am I called a halt and decided I should be somewhat responsible and take my children to bed. That was a bit of a performance, we were sleeping in the front sitting room which has a lovely big comfy corner sofa, which the children sleep on and a blow up double air bed for us which fitted perfectly between the sofa and the TV unit, only problem was the hubby didn't fit, after all the kerfuffle of getting the kids sorted, one in a sleeping bag, the other with her quilt and teddy, the hubby crawled onto the bed and lay down, his head jammed against the TV unit and his feet touching the sofa, leaving his knees in mid air, I just fitted, so a reshuffle it was, my son was taken out of the sleeping bag and given the quilt and hubby took the sleeping bag as it was lighter and me and my daughter snuggled up together in the air bed. New years Day is a repeat of Christmas Day, mum came, had dinner and then stayed over, we played Uno Extreme again, and that was it a another New Year. I decided not to make any New Years Resolutions this year, mainly because I never stick to them, so thought sod it, I'll fumble through with out them. We spent the evening of the 2nd Jan at my MIL where my nephew brought out his Wii, much to the delight of the children.

The rest of my holiday was spent staying up late and lying in late it was great, I am however grateful to be back to the routine of school and work.

I did make one decision at the turn of the New Year, I always text and email all friends at New Year, the ones I am close to and the ones I haven't spoken to for a while, just to keep in touch, this year I thought I would see how many contacted me, I spend time being obliging and friendly, but I have decided this year to concentrate on the people I want to spend time with. I have to say the response was poor. So bugger it, this year it's ME ME ME.

She's like the wind - take 2

2008-01-06T22:13:00.001Z

So that there is no confusion my web address for this blog remains the same, however I have changed my name. If you are kind enough to have a link to me on your blog can you please amend my name to 'she's like the wind' no need to change anything else.

I'll be back to catch up with everyone soon.

She's like the wind

2008-01-03T17:59:00.000Z

I am changing my identity, namely due to the fact my mum wants to start blogging, and I thought 'self employed mum' might be a bit obvious so I have changed to 'She's like the wind' from my favourite song from the film Dirty Dancing. There is some information on here that I do not wish to share with my mother.

I will be back blogging soon, I am having a well earned rest at the moment.

Happy New Year and all the best for 2008.

xx

Don't make a drama out of a crisis...

2007-12-15T15:28:00.000Z

I am going to leave my journey until after Christmas for fear of depressing my blogging friends and them leaving to read funnier, more unlifting blogs.

We have had success with the cat fleas at last, the Spot-On was crap, the flea collar was crap, although she is still wearing it as it doesn't seem to bother her, the flea tablets were fantastic for eliminating living fleas on her body, at that time, they fall off within 15 minutes, but they don't kill the eggs!! Front line was recommended, but the chemist said she had to be over 6 months, defeated I contacted the vet and guess what they had Front Line and you can use it from 8 weeks, one vial does 5 weeks, kills fleas on the body within 24 hours and any fleas that jump onto the body or hatch on the body are killed, again, within 24 hours. To good to be true, no, it works, I have combed her through, checking for droppings, fleas or anything else suspicious and she is flea free. Mission accomplished at long last.

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My daughter celebrated her 8th birthday on the 1st Dec and had 4 friends to sleepover, I love children, I enjoy their company and I pride myself on bringing fun and enjoyment to their parties. The hubby took our son out for the evening so that we could have a girls night in, I bought the girls little make-up sets with nail varnish, equiped myself with nail varnish remover and started the night with food. I always give any children in my house rules, 3 simple rules, take your shoes of at the door, hang your jackets on the pegs and put your papers (sweeties or juice cartoons etc) into the bin, this keeps me a happy mum. The food was demolished, we had the cake, all the girls helped with the candles and the switching off of lights while my daughter waited patiently, we sang Happy Birthday and cheered, they had cake and sweeties and went to play for a while to let the food settle. By 9.30 they had all fallen out, my daughter was crying, 2 of her 'friends' were upstairs bitching about her, saying 'just because it's her birthday, she wants all the attention, this was the worst sleepover they had ever been to blah, blah blah' at which point I had to remind myself I was and adult and these were 8 year old girls, I called a get together in the living room to see if any child wanted to go home, the 2 bitching children who had never been to my house before said 'no' We played games, musical bumps, best dancer, musical statues and it was fun, all the girls enjoyed themselves, all the girls got a prize and a few more sweeties went round. At 10 o'clock I decided to blow up the air bed as they were going to have a pyjama party and watch a DVD, my daughters new Bratz The Movie DVD, I was in my bedroom, getting the bed sorted when I heared two almighty thuds, I entered my daughters room to find the 2 bitching children jumping from the top bunk bed, in all the years my children have had these beds they have never, ever, jumped or dreaped from the beds or any other part of the house for that matter. And the cheek I took from these children, under normal circumstances, had they been to play, their mothers would have been called and I would have spoken to them sternly and let them know their behaviour was unacceptable, but my fear was they would make fun of my daughter at school, tell her other friends her sleepover was a disaster, so for her sake and the fact it was her birthday, I jollied them round and we carried on. They watched DVD's, played in the room and at 1am I decided it was time for lights out, I informed them they could choose a book for 10 minutes and then I would be back to put the lights out. 2 children refused to get into bed, that was a big mistake, I spoke to them as I would to my own children, they got into bed immediately with the first book that fell into their hands. These children will not be back to play or stay or otherwise and my daughter has realised that a sleepover is not all it's cracked up to be, she has been watching too much of the 'All new sleepover club' Her friends left at 12 noon the next day, the other 2 children praised for their perfect behaviour and their mothers informed likewise and my daughter, she was asleep on the couch for 12.45, an exhausted little 8 year old. I appreciate my good mannered, well behaved children all the more now, they may play up with us, at home, but I can trust them to behave with any other adult and I am very very proud of them.

Last week was a disaster, my daughter had been complaining on and off that she didn't feel well, but she went to school just the same, my son was loaded with the cold, coughing and complaining of a sore head but still he wanted to go to school, the hubby he has full blown flu and not 'man flu' real flu, he has never been ill in his life so it is not going down to well, I knew he must be really ill when he recently refused sex, he continued to go to work but took the weekend off, quite unheard of in our house. The children had their panto visit with the school on Wednesday morning, I sent them with a pack of tissues and informed the school if they were unwell on their return I should be called immediately. They called me at 2.40pm! by the time I got the message I was on my way to school to collect them. I reached the school office and was told by the office staff that my daughters teacher had said, and I quote 'perhaps you could keep her off tomorrow as she has been to the office everyday this week' 'RIGHT' I said, 'bloody cheek' I mumbled. I do not normally send my children to school ill, but because of the panto they didn't want to miss it. I decided right there and then that they could both have the day off on Thursday, they were both quite ill looking when they came out of school. I had already done my Florence Nightingale that morning with my mother as she too was bedridden with flu, I had gone in armed with all the remedies I could think of as her car was in the garage and she was effectively stranded. This was my good fortune that her car was in the garage as my car was due to go in on the Thursday morning for a service, which meant I could drop my car off and use hers until mine was ready, so I left her house armed with a blank cheque to pay for her car. Upon realising the kids were so ill and going to be off school the next day I decided to go straight to the garage and exchange cars rather than dragging the kids out early the next morning and it was just as well I did, because on the Thursday morning we woke up to find the whole village had no water, I don't know which I consider worse, no water or no electricity, at least with water you can wash and make tea, ok you can't dry or straighten your hair without electricity but you can still boil water on the gas hob. The kids were quite happy not to wash and they had TV so their life was fine. I had taken the morning off and informed the hubby he would have to have the afternoon off as I was too busy to have the whole day off, he nearly died, he has never taken time off to look after sick children. He gets up and goes to work, only dealing with himself, even if the kids are ill he assumes I'll be there, because I always have been and thankfully they are not often ill and I have never had to take a day off work since I set up the business 3.5 years ago, it would be ok if I didn't work alone, but I do, so there is nobody to hold the fort. Anyway, shocked as he was he came home at lunchtime and I trotted of to work, mildy washed down with the little water that had been left, there must have been a lot of stinky people in our village that day! I got my car back that night, so I had to leave mums car at the garage and then we took a family trip to go and collect it later that evening, my mum stays about 10 miles away from us so we took the car back to our house as she was still to ill to drive it anyway. I feel all I've done is run about after sick people and coordinated cars and then there's the inconvenience of Christmas............

I appreciate the importance of Christmas itself but hate the commercialisation - is that a word, I don't know, but I'm sure you get my drift.

Until the next high drama I bid you goodbye.

Life goes on!

2007-12-13T11:17:00.000Z

So that was it, it was all over, no more waiting, no more phoning. I cried for a while, but I cry when anyone dies, I don't remember if my mum cried. I called my best friend later that night to tell her and I cried harder. I was still going on my trip with the college his dying did not interfere with my life, there would of course be the funeral, it was sure to happen during my time away, but I had already made my mind up I would not be going. I think my mother wondered what people would think, although she always let me make my own decisions, I didn't care what people would think, they had not spent years of hell, anyone who knew us well enough would know why I was not there. I phoned Gran, it was the first I had spoken to her in over 18 months, I told her I knew he had died and that I would not be going to the funeral and that I was going to continue with my plans to go on the college trip, she didn't say much, 'I felt it was only right I phoned to let you know' I said and that was it I have never spoken to or seen the woman since.

The trip was enjoyable, certainly worth going on. I called my mum on the day of the funeral as she said she might go, she felt she should, but she decided against it and stayed home to grieve in her own private space, grieve for the man she married, the man who had fathered her child and grieve for the 20 odd years they had been together, remembering the happy times.

At last we were settled, it may sound cruel but we knew it was ok to be out and about, knowing that we would never stumble across him, never see him lying in a gutter. We were relieved, if the drink had not killed him he would certainly have become a 'down and out' We had many long discussions after his passing and it was only then we asked ourselves the question 'was he an alcoholic?' it will seem clear to everyone on the outside looking in that 'yes' he was but when you live with something for so long it becomes the 'norm' you assume everyone else lives that way, women stay at home and look after the children and men go to the pub.

One afternoon there was a chap at the door, I answered to find the ARSEHOLE standing there.

'Can I come in?' he said

'My mum's not in' I said

'It's you I need to speak to' he said

'You can speak to me when my mum's in, she'll be back in an hour' I said firmly

There was no way I was having this man in my house, I was 18, I had no idea what he wanted or how he knew where we lived, had it been any of my dad's sisters, my Auntie's, I would have let them in, welcomed them, but they had sent him or he had said he would come 'I'll sort it all out' being the dedicated son-in-law that he was, bullshit, he was an ARSEHOLE nobody liked him, the one person on this earth my dad hated, had fought physically with. Perhaps my Auntie's were unable to face me, perhaps they hated us, blamed us for his death. Perhaps if we had stayed with him and made sure he ate properly he would have lived longer, we should have looked after him, if we did would he be dead now or perhaps it would have been my mother, dead through stress or perhaps he would have killed her, who knows. He returned when my mum was home and explained that dad had money left over in his bank account and I was next of kin, I needed to go and see the bank manager and he would take me! 'I don't need you to take me, I'm quite capable of going myself' the audacity of this man. He also told us about dads dying minutes, how his family surrounded him, someone had been out of the room, but as soon as they were all together he died peacefully, of sane mind my father would, I'm sure, not have chosen to have the ARSEHOLE present while he took his last breath. Nonetheless it upset me. A friend of my dad's sister worked in the lab with Anna and so the family knew that we had been informed of his illness, none of them tried to contact me, they didn't have to deal with my mum, I was 18, but I was still a child really, still their flesh and blood, never to this day have they tried to get in touch with me, hear my side of the story, what we had to live with or just generally stay in touch, I wouldn't take anything to do with them, but I would have liked them to try, contrary I know. I feel disowned, through no fault of my own, I had 3 Aunties, 3 Uncles, a gran, a papa and 7 cousins.

I made an appointment to see the bank manager, I went myself. Dad had never paid his poll tax so that had to be deducted, plus the funeral expenses, the man had died an alcoholic, a poor sole and he paid for his own funeral, which included a lair, which takes 3 people, his father is now buried there and I assume his mother will go there too and his family, 3 sisters and parents, couldn't even club together for his funeral. How sad. I left with a cheque for £2100.

My mother was quite upset with the whole thing, when they had the house, there were insurance policies, endowments, they were both covered and would both be financially secure if anything happened to the other, the mortgage would be paid, the funeral expenses would be covered, the policies would have paid out and here we were only 20 months after separation and the house had been sold, the policies cancelled, the endowments cashed for under their value, living in a council flat and left with £2100, not to mention a dead father. This lead to ifs and buts, what if we had managed to put up with him a bit longer, we would still have been in our home, mortgage paid at the age of 44, plus a little bit extra. It's not all about the money, but it changes the direction of your life. If we had put up with him longer, he would have lived longer, maybe only a bit longer, but he would have been fed, looked after, but my mums life was under threat. Once I moved out of the flat, mum decided to move and buy a flat, she had to take out a mortgage until she was 65, this means working until the age of 65, she has had to struggle on her own to pay her bills, she never did imagine this would be the struggle she faced, but then what price is happiness.

A few days after being to the bank the ARSEHOLE called to see how I'd got on 'Fine' was my reply. 'We were wondering' he said 'if you would like to buy the headstone, we've priced them and they're about £500' I nearly died, not at the price of the headstone, but at the cheek, he did not know how much money I got, nor did I give him any indication, 'you do know that my dad paid for his own funeral and his own lair and of course there were debts to be pay, I'll have I think about it' I said. No fucking way, were the thoughts running through my head, back then I wouldn't have been so rude, he called back a few days later and I quite simply said 'no' it wasn't the money, it wasn't greed, had the circumstances been different then I would have done it without question, this way both gran and papa have a resting place and a headstone all paid for by their son, meaning no further expense to the rest of the family, let the dead man pay.

I offered the money to my mum, I felt she should have it, after all, it was the left over money from the sale of the house, she declined, said I should enjoy it. I gave her £100 to spend on herself and went out and bought granny a microwave, it was £99.99, she had never had one, she was delighted and grateful and gave me a row for spending money on her. I still have that microwave, through in the back shop, although it is past it's best! The man in the flat upstairs was selling a car so I bought it, my first run around, I also bought a TV and video and a hi-fi system for my bedroom. I did enjoy it, I had things I'd never had before, mum was pleased.

I have mixed feelings about my dad's family, I would like them to understand what we went through, so that they would not think bad of us, but surely they realised once he'd died at the age of 44 with cirrhosis of the liver, that he did indeed have a drink problem and not a wife problem!

Mother's Day 1991

2007-12-07T11:14:00.000Z

Mum used her money from the sale of the house to make our flat a home, new carpets, suite, curtains, fridge and freezer, our bedroom furniture was brought from the house as it was in perfectly good condition. We loved it, the contentment was phenomenal.

Having done Avon in the past I decided to do it again, mum and I both did it, it was another small income, we got to know people this way and it got mum out and about, her confidence had been bruised, but she was now confident enough to tell people she had separated from her husband, for so many years she had tried to pretend life was rosy and that she was 'fine.' After a few months mum became depressed, weepy and snappy, all the years of running on adrenaline just to survive the mental torture had now gone, the novelty of the new flat was steadying and bang she fell to pieces. I was a teenager, by no means difficult, but I'm sure I caused her worry, going out at night, driving, coming home late. She tried medication, I think it might have been Prozac, OH MY GOD, the woman was mad, she stopped the tablets. She got over it, gave herself a kick up the bum and was thankful for what she had.

One day we were both out doing our Avon round, it could have been early evening or it could have been a Sunday I can't recall, I was stood at a front door on the corner of the main road and a side street, waiting for my customer to answer the door, my mum did the other end of the main road, the main road which ran past our block of flats. I was gazing around, looking at nothing in particular while I waited, in the distance I could see a male figure walking down the main road, the walk was familiar, the figure familiar, instantly recognisable, dad. What's he doing here?, said the voice inside my head. My Aunt and the 'ARSEHOLE' lived around the corner, but he would not have gone intentionally to see them, on account of the ARSEHOLE being there. I turned my back, facing the door, the customer was apparently not in, he walked right by me and round into the side street. Had it been anywhere else I would have stopped him, asked after him, but he was yards from our new safe flat. He might pester us if he knew where we were. I knew my mum would have felt uneasy so I decided this was not the place to be speaking to him. I went straight home, mum wasn't back yet, so I went looking for her, he may wander the street and come across her, she would get a fright. At that she came home, once we were safe in our living room I filled her in. We had questions in our head, had he got wind of the fact we were staying here and come to try and find us, was it coincidence and he was visiting his sister, this we doubted. It was unsettling. Shortly after this sighting, mum got a phone call from her good friend who worked in a hospital lab. 'Did you know Billy's in the hospital, he's very ill?' How he ended up in hospital originally, I'm not sure, his stomach was swollen and he was very ill, he had been kept in. Going without alcohol, which he had not done now for at least 15-20 years on a daily basis obviously didn't go down to well with his body and he had left the hospital, a nurse had tried to stop him and he had punched her, he managed to get out of hospital and on that very day was the day he had walked by me in the street. He had been picked up by the police and was found practically unconscious, where or by who I will never know, a quarter bottle of whisky in his pocket with merely a sip out of it. Anna explained to my mum that she had been passed his blood for testing and realising who it was felt I at least should be informed as it wasn't 'looking good' she explained his liver had failed and even a sip of whisky was enough to saturate it causing the same effect 8-10 drinks would have on us.

My mum called the ward and explained the situation and that her concern was for her 18 year old daughter, the nurse confirmed his organs were failing, he was very yellow with jaundice and he was delirious. The nurse advised it was up to us, but if it was her 18 year old daughter she would advise against it, far to upsetting she said. I went with this. If I thought for one minute he was of sane mind I would have been there in a flash, but we knew his sane mind had left a long time ago, left at the same time as my dad had left, he was my dad in body but that was all. Mum called the hospital daily for an update, it was clear it as a waiting game, still the nursing staff advised against visiting, I had made up my mind that my dad had died a long time ago and I had no need to go and visit, it wouldn't do him or me any good, I would be doing it purely for the sake of the rest of his family to show face. I did not feel the need to do this, mum did offer to come, she was very supportive. Mum's birthday was on Friday the 8th March and we had a feeling he might pass away on this day, haunting my mums birthday forever, but the day came and went, Saturday came and went, I was beginning to panic, I was going on a studying holiday with the college to France on the Monday and would not have been happy for him to have passed away while I was in France, I would have been unable to concentrate. It was selfish of me to want to go, but there was nothing I could do, I could not stop his illness, he had not stopped his illness, I had no intention of going to his funeral, that was clear in my mind, it would have been hypocritical, I could not stand to be there watching his family weep and wail at the death of a loved one, yes I'm sure they would be upset but they had done nothing to help him or us, I was bitter.

On Sunday I carried on, I packed, my mum made her usual call to the hospital at 3.10pm, she always called after visiting hour. I knew immediately by her tone and comments, it had finally happened, my dad passed away at 2.55pm on the 10th March 1991.

It was Mother's Day.....

Operation move out

2007-12-03T18:30:00.000Z

So there we were locked in the neighbours house drinking tea, deciding what to do. Our options were limited, no house keys, no shoes, crying, but this time through both fear and upset. 'I can get in' I announced. Our front door, the one that was always locked, had a single mortise lock in the handle and a double mortise lock above it, the door was wooden with 2 glass panels, the keys were on one keyring and always hung in the double mortise lock. I had and still have the thinnest hands, wrists and fingers, the hubby calls me skeletor, I believe this to be a skeleton character from the He-man programme! I could try and reach the keys through the letter box, it was worth a try. I tried but couldn't reach in far enough, what could I use, we ended up with a 'big fork' the one used for carving turkey. I couldn't drop the keys, my mum stood beside me 'careful, careful' my neighbour took her away. 'I did it, we're in' I shouted. We got in, I got shoes and we grabbed some essentials, we left the keys in the front door and I took my back door keys, we left quickly just in case he decided to come back, although we doubted it. He knew we had no keys and yet he didn't care. We went back into our neighbours house as our friends across the road, who we knew would put us up overnight, were not in.

Mum decided we should go and see Gran, see if she would take him in, she thought if he had somewhere to go, he might just do that, stay with Gran for a few weeks until we sorted everything out. Until now we had always left, but now mum seemed to know this would be a permanent separation and why should we have to stay with Granny in a one bedroom flat when he could stay with his mother and father in their 2 bedroom flat, I could continue with my life. I refused to go, I think mum just wanted me with her, perhaps Gran would realise the upset dad was causing if she saw me in a state or perhaps her motherly instinct just needed me with her, knowing I was safe. I stayed with the neighbour and had a good cry. And Gran, she said it would affect her rent rebate if dad went to stay, that sums the woman up! The next day dad went to work and it was the start of 'operation move out' we were going to stay with Granny. We packed bags with clothes and essentials and left them hidden in my room, we stayed another night at our friends, he expected us to be at Granny's and called to speak to me, but Granny told him the truth that we weren't there. Papa suggested we go and stay with him for a while, but mum had to go to work and I had my boyfriend and my friends. The next day mums cousins, who we saw little of, came with a van and we officially moved out, taking my single bed, my pre-emptied wardrobe, a set of drawers and the bags we had packed and of course the hamster. Dad worked for our neighbour and his son, our neighbour came home for lunch and this put the wind up us a bit, he might tell dad, querying the goings on at our house, we went as quickly as we could.

We were now, all 3 of us, shacked up in a one bedroom flat again, as we had been so many times before, only this time we had an extra bed a slightly more storage space. Mum wasted no time in going to a lawyer, as I was at college, mum was told we had the right to be in the house as I was still in full time education, the problem was going to be getting him out. My job was to keep him sweet. I was now working in the Holiday Inn as part of my college placement, but I still did Avon with the neighbours, I would go to the house and do my Avon round and then stay for a visit, he would make soup. I never stayed overnight, I usually made an excuse to collect something from my room and try to sneak a few things out for my mum, her wardrobe was limited with the quick departure. This was a no no, in his mind if she wanted something, she should come and get it. We both had to attend the lawyers as I was old enough to give evidence and examples of his behaviour, the lawyer told us my mother had the biggest divorce file she had ever dealt with. We were granted by the courts the house to live in until it was decided through the divorce lawyers what should happen to the house, dad was not allowed within so many feet of the house. We moved back home. A Yale lock was added to the back door and a snip added to the front door, we felt better, safer. Life carried on as normal, in fact it was great, we were happy living in a peaceful environment. This was short lived as the house was to be sold, we would officially be homeless. Mum and I walked the streets looking at empty council houses that we might be offered. The house was sold and the entry date was March 1990, it was 2 weeks before we were due to move out before the council offered us a flat, in the next town!! This was my worst nightmare, I cried. However, the night we got the letter, mum, our friend across the road who had put us up and me, took the bus and went to find this flat, it looked ok, we didn't have keys but through the letter box it appeared fine. Our curiosity settled we went home and decided it wasn't as bad as it seemed, we accepted the flat.

Being a mechanic, dad had loads of tools, these were stored in the garden shed. It was arranged through the lawyer that he should come and collect anything he wanted before the move. When dad had been put out of the house, he stuck to his side of the agreement and never did come near the house or call. I had not seen him for 4-5 months, didn't know where he was staying, I took nothing to do with Gran after her refusal to put him up, she did sent me £10 that Christmas and I was going to take it back and tell her to 'shove it' but that would have involved a visit so I kept it! Later than arranged a young man came to the back door. 'I'm here to collect tools for Billy' I looked at him, disappointed that dad was not with him. 'Is my dad not with you?' I asked. He was in the car, waiting in the street, was he afraid to come in. I went out to see him. I could have died with shock, the first thing that struck me was the hat he was wearing, it was navy, a fishing hat I think, as he looked up to see me, his eyes were dull and small and lacking in emotion, he would himself have described them as 'piss holes in the snow' and the bags, I will never forget the bags, not dark circle bags but bags hanging below his cheek bones and fully wrinkled. He had aged about 20 years. 'You should come in and see what you want' I told him. 'I'm not allowed' was his sheepish reply. 'Oh for God sake, don't be ridiculous' all of a sudden I was the 17 year old adult dealing with the 44 year old child. They both went into the shed, I don't think he could have cared less what tools were there. 'I passed my driving test' I told him eagerly, he had come home with 'L' plates on my 17th birthday, 2 months before the split and he had taken me to Fine Fare car park, in my papa's Lada and I had driven round for about an hour in 1st gear. He seemed pleased. They gathered the tools and off they went, there were no arrangement to meet or no concern about where we were going to live, he just left.

The move went well, we moved on to our new life on 26th March 1990, our flat was great. Mum promised she would buy a car once we moved, I wouldn't feel so stranded then. In May of that year she bought a D registration white MG metro, it was a cracker, white bumpers and wing mirrors, grey interior with red trim and matching red seat belts. One day on my way to work at the Holiday Inn, I was passing through our old town and some edjit ran right across the road in front of me, I slammed on the breaks and realised the edjit was none other than my dad. I pulled in swiftly, tooted and got a mouthful of abuse. I got out 'dad, dad, it's me' he trotted off muttering to himself 'DAD' he turned and looked at me, gave a dismissive wave and kept walking. I was in disbelief, I ran after him, did he not recognise me, did he not want to speak to me, I was not letting him go, he had not seen me for 2-3 months and he thought he could wave and carry on, I don't think so! 'Where are you going?' I said when I caught up. 'Oh hello' he said as if he had just realised it was me. He was going to book a 'wee bus trip to Blackpool' I took him to Glasgow, he looked no worse than he had done the day he came to collect the tools. I bombarded him with questions, he responded but asked none about me, he was a car fanatic, he didn't mention the car. I dropped him at the bus station and he thanked me for the lift. That was the last conversation we ever had.

I carried on to work happy I had seen him, he was going on holiday, he was ok, I had heard through the grapevine that he was shacked up with a fellow woman drinker, she would be happy he had just secured £15,000 from the sale of the house, they could buy plenty drink with that and even go a wee holiday.

Agonising decision

2007-11-26T22:35:00.000Z

Life trundled on, I enjoyed secondary school and at the age of 14 I had a new best friend. My best friend's parents treated me like a 4th daughter they took me on holiday, our first holiday was in their travel caravan, we went to Great Yarmouth, another to their time share apartment in the Trossachs and then abroad to Portugal. I had a steady boyfriend, he was French, we met at school, I spent a lot of time at his house. My best friend had a steady boyfriend who is now her husband and we remain best friends to this day, 21 years on.

At the age of 16 my mum had decided it was time I got a job so she sent me to the local village and told me to go round all the shops and see if anyone needed a Saturday girl. I started with the nearest shop, which was a card shop, they had nothing. I then went to the coffee shop it was called 'The Little Treat' the owner asked me to come back and see her in an hour, I headed home as there was nothing to do for an hour. I must have been gone from the house for a total of 20 minutes, you should have seen my mothers face when I returned, she told me I should have continued with my asking, but I was confident. I returned to 'The Little Treat' for my chat with Mrs Knox she gave me the job. I worked 2 days after school for 2 hours and a Saturday, I got £13. In that same week a lady came to the door to see if anyone was interested in being an Avon rep, my granny said I would and we signed up there and then, my neighbour then complained about her ironing and I said I enjoyed ironing, she jokingly offered me a job, I accepted. I went from no jobs to 3 within a few weeks.

The arguments in our house continued, mainly at midnight when dad came home from the pub! There used to be good times in between, but these times were long gone. I started to resent my dad and started to get lippy, he no longer hid arguments from me, no longer holding his tongue until I was out of the room. I no longer respected him as a parent. He made things up, thought the world and us were against him, we know now it was the alcohol affecting his brain but then we just thought he was an awkward pain in the arse. One evening we heard the back gate opening and expected to hear the key in the back door, but nothing. I looked out the living room window and could see nothing, checked the kitchen window and nothing, the gate was shut, so carried on watching the tele, a few hours later the back door opened and in he stoated shouting 'ya shower a' bastards, leaving me oot there tae die' I couldn't believe what I was hearing, my mum hardly had to say anything now, I was not prepared to listen to this 'What are you talking about?' I demanded. Could we get any sense, we got repeated abuse about being bastards and leaving him to die. Eventually he told us he had slipped coming down the path and banged his head, he had a huge lump on the back of his head and must've been unconscious, lying on the cold icy path for the last few hours, how we tried to stifle the laugh, I made him a cup of tea. I specifically remember one time, he was lying in his bed going on and on, talking and shouting, my Papa had come to visit and was downstairs sleeping on the couch, he was shouting drunken abuse about my Papa, I went charging into the room and shouted 'Will you just shut up!' turned on my heels and left. I had no fear. He said nothing else, I think he was in shock. My mum had no fight left. As for my Papa he got up and left in the middle of the night to drive the 2 hour drive home, another humiliation for us both. During my exams I went to stay with my Granny, I could study at home in peace but I was getting interrupted sleep. I remember having a key and I know I stayed there, but I don't remember being there if that makes sense. I was now at a stage where being at home bothered me. I stayed at Granny's during the week and went home on a Friday, mainly because I went to the local pub with my friends on a Friday and my mum was fine with it, only because I was sensible and I think she had too much else going on just trying to survive the stress, but it was too late to go home and disturb Granny. My boyfriend would walk me home and we would sit at the bottom of the street stairs and chat, one night we were sat there when Dad came stoating up the road, luckily my boyfriend was aware of the situation. I introduced them to each other and Dad went to shake his hand and missed, I was mortified. I gained 5 o'grades and 3 highers despite the goings on at home.

In July 1989 my best friend and I set off for a fortnight in Portugal with her mum and dad, it was a fantastic holiday, I had never been abroad with my parents, only the school. Not a care in the world, sunshine, sea, a pool and slightly more freedom because we were after all 17 and 16. I phoned home and my Papa answered the phone, a bit unusual but nothing to be concerned about, I had a little chat and was told my mum was out but would I like to speak to my Granny, my stomach lurched, now I knew there was something wrong, my Papa and Granny in the same house at the same time and when my Papa passed the phone over to Granny she responded with civility. "What's wrong?" I immediately blurted. Granny was not going to palm me off, she had helped bring me up, she knew me to well. "Your Dad's not been behaving himself" she said. I took this to mean he was being his usual pain in the arse, shouting and arguing and threatening. She assured me that her and my Papa would stay until I came back and my mum would be fine, I knew they would, it was their daughter. My mind was eased.

Although my dad shouted and threatened he had not been violent, his speciality was mental torture, but now with his mind and body saturated with alcohol, while I was safe in Portugal, he had pushed my mum out of bed and tried to strangle her, who knows the reason on this occasion. Mum had phoned Granny because she didn't know what else to do, Granny in turn had phoned Gran to tell her she better get her son under control, Gran had papa with her and he seemed to be the only person who could get through to dad, Gran told Granny it was not her problem and that my mum had driven him to drink! Granny feeling she needed help to cope with the situation called Papa, he came immediately. They had to put their differences aside and deal with the issue in hand. My dads brother-in-law, the arsehole that was married to his sister, that never got on with any of my dad's family, then phoned Granny at home to tell her not to bother his mother-in-law again with their problems. ARSEHOLE! And after all this, the morning after, my father doesn't even remember, he thought it was made up, the world against him! Paranoia.

I returned from Portugal, putting my enjoyment straight to the side, practically running from the car to the back door, desperate to see my mum, make sure she was ok. There was no sign of her down stairs, "Mum" I shouted, trying to hide the desperation in my voice. "I'll be down in a minute" she shouted. She entered the living room her face red and blotchy, she was greeted with me, my best friend and her parents. I could see my best friends mum making eyes at her to see she was ok, please leave, I was thinking, we all knew she wasn't fine, don't prolong it. They perhaps didn't want to leave knowing she wasn't fine, should you leave someone who's not fine. But mum was used to masking her feelings, they left after an agonising few minutes. Mum was straight with me, she told me the goings on of the last few weeks. "I don't know if I can cope with this" I told her. Dad came home, I was in my room with my mum, unpacking. I am unclear on the next few minutes but Dad had come upstairs, I don't even remember if he came into my room. He shouted from his room on my mum, shouting in a tone I didn't like, I felt uneasy, my mum went and there was an exchange of words but it was quiet, tense, was he hurting her? I heard her flee the room, shouting "come with me, now!" there was a no nonsense tone. I followed "where are we going?" I said "just come on" I followed her down the stairs, we had never left in a hurry before, we had always planned leaving, were we just going downstairs? I followed her right through the back door, even then I didn't think we would go out of the house. She did not slow down in her pace, she did not look back. "I've got no shoes on" I exclaimed walking quickly beside her in my shorts and t-shirt with my golden tan. "It doesn't matter" she said. I still kick myself that I didn't pick up my keys, which were lying at the back door, but she gave me no indication that we were going out of the house, if she had given a glimmer of a hint I would have thought fast on my feet, she was in no fit state to think, her instinct was propelling her, her mind following her body. We went out our side gate and right round and door next doors path, she entered without knocking. I remember her words clearly to our neighbour "I'm so sorry to do this to you, but could you lock your doors, Billy will be round here any minute" they did, people know instinctively when to do something without question. They had 3 boys under 7, luckily both husband and wife were at home. The doors were locked and the blinds closed. BANG BANG BANG "open the fuckin' door, I know you're in there" As my mum sobbed she apologised over and over for involving my neighbour. The husband offered to go out and speak to him, but my mum refused, she didn't want them getting involved nor did she want my dad getting in. He tried the front, but we stayed silent., the boys thought it was a game. He went back into the house and we watched from the bedroom as he left the house and trotted off to the pub, he wouldn't be back til closing time.

The words from her daughter had given her the strength to go, until now, it had been what was best for me and now that I was not happy, she could finally do it. We didn't need clothes, shoes or keys we had each other and that was all the strength we needed.

Update Part 2

2007-11-20T22:12:00.000Z

So we have got over the dentist trauma, the scary story trauma, we have all suffered a further cold and cough, despite only just getting rid of the last one. I have spent a fortune on medicine and cough bottles for 3, even the hubby got the cold! And in the middle of all this illness came fleas! Now never having had a pet before I was unaware of the trauma of fleas. I have dealt with nits and let me tell you head lice are nothing compared to cat fleas.

The kitten is nearly 14 weeks old and has been to the vet twice for her immunisations, we spoke about worming tablets, neutering and fleas and I was assured as long as she had not been out she did not need flea preventative things, I told the vet that she has come from a home with 3 cats and that the cats were allowed in my house but the vet assured me she would be fine!! Two days after visiting the vet we, the children and I, had a few bites each, I checked through the cat and she looked fine it was only when my son went to bed and came down with more bites 30 minutes later that I checked his bed and found a bold as brass little flea jumping in his bed. So the little fucker was trapped in a bit of sellotape and kept as proof, the bed was striped and back to bed he went. I found another jumping in my living room and another in my daughters bed. I was disgusted. I went to the pet shop and came back armed with flea tablets and flea spray for the house, now for anyone who has not experienced fleas this is the way it works, the cat gets the tablet, problem 1 - getting the cat to take the f'in tablet, as I said I've never had a pet before, you then have to break the cycle, again a bit like head lice, the darlings lay up to 2000 eggs in their 4 day life, so you get rid of the live flea but hey it's left approx 2000 to hatch behind. You have to try and eliminate them from the cat and your home at once, at least head lice stay in the head, fleas can live anywhere and then jump onto anybody when they fancy a bite.

I took the day off work, the cat was given her tablet, poor little Angel didn't know what had hit her, I tried to give her the tablet but she kept spitting it out so hubby managed, within minutes she was scratching, the lady at the pet shop had told me to put her in the empty bath so that she couldn't get out and we could comb her through (with a nit comb!) who couldn't get out? I was advised to have a basin/bucket of water to drown the little fuckers or they just jump. Hubby held her and I combed her through she was riddled, I felt terrible surely I should have noticed but honestly there were no signs. As well as fleas, there were flea droppings, after 10 minutes of combing she was really fed up and the hubby was scratched and bitten more than he bargained for so he took her outside for the very first time and she groomed herself and the fleas were falling off, I assisted with some more combing. We then restricted her to the kitchen and conservatory and I went and cleaned and I mean cleaned. All the beds were striped, any clothing lying about anywhere was put in for washing, the cat is not allowed in the bedrooms but sometimes she sneaks in when the door opens, I started piling all washing in the kitchen this included dolls clothing from dolls that had been lying about, towels from the bathroom at one point I could hardly see the kitchen floor. I then hoovered everywhere, under beds, on beds into all the corners, spraying as I went. I was at it all day and of course it would be raining with all the washing I had. I bought Spot-on and put that on the back of her neck to kill all eggs, so surely the cycle was broken. Was it fuck! I have hoovered everyday since, I have combed the cat through almost everyday and she still has fleas, so the Spot-on stuff obviously doesn't work or I didn't get it on right. So this evening without the hubby's help I gave her another flea tablet, restricted us to the kitchen and conservatory again and she has scratched and groomed herself and left fleas behind on the floor, I have sat armed again with sellotape, as they don't seem to be able to jump after the flea tablet has been given, as the floor is light I can see them and easily collect them with a piece of sellotape.

It's such a shame but she must have come with a flea, I asked next doors daughter to get her cats checked just in case, so all the cats are banned from coming in at the moment. This has been the most time consuming, unenjoyable experience I've had for a long time.

I would be eternally grateful for anyone who can tell me how to get rid of these little fuckers, the hubby suggested getting rid of the cat!

Update part 1

2007-11-08T16:10:00.000Z

Thoughts and feelings have been a bit heavy lately so today I'm giving an update of my life in general.

On Saturday last I had a 'me' day and I went to do a level 2 Reiki course, I do have another not very up-to-date post on Reiki and what it's all about at http://www.healingreiki.blogspot.com/ if you fancy a look or if like my hubby you think 'it's a pile of pish' then don't bother. You could of course have a read and see what you think before deciding 'it's a pile of p$%£!'

A week past on Sunday, we were having a pyjama day, this involves me starting housework before getting dressed and then realising it's time to make dinner and I'm still not dressed, the kids tidy their rooms and then lounge, quite often our 10 year old next door neighbour joins them and she doesn't bother getting dressed either so her and my daughter flit from one house to another in their dressing gowns. As long as they are happy, who cares. So they make dens and play and argue and on this particular Sunday as it was near Halloween my neighbour tells a story, a story she has been told by a friend at a recent sleepover, a true story, of course! Now so that I don't give anyone else nightmares, lets just say it involved a baby, a babysitter and a man dressed as a clown in the baby's room, frightening the baby. The kids were fine with the story, that was until bedtime. My daughter, who loves her bed, went to bed no problem and since we got the kitten, it's been lights out and door shut, my son then put off going to bed and by the time we got him there we were all going to bed, he got into bed ok, then started crying and reached mild hysteria by the time I asked him what was wrong, this woke my daughter, who then joined him in mild hysteria, both children wanted to sleep in our bed. We said that was fine and we would leave and sleep in their beds, this created more tears. My daughter at this point was shaking uncontrollably, I believe they have to face their phobias so said they could sleep in daughters room as she has bunk beds, she refused, so they opted to sleep together in son's bed, only if they could sleep at the same side, as normally they would sleep top to toe. We settled down to sleep and then our door opened;

"Who's that?" I said with my eyes shut

"me" said the crying voice of the 7 yo

"and me" said the crying voice of the 10 yo

"this is ridiculous" said the frustrated mummy

"meow" said the kitten

"now the bloody cats in" said same frustrated mummy

"I'm reeaallly scared" said 7 yo

"me too" said 10 yo

"don't be silly, it's just a story, let's have a cuddle, in you get"

so there were 4 in the bed and then the mummy said "right that's enough, no nonsense, back to bed, if you feel scared take deep breaths and say a little prayer, you've got each other"

They got up one more time and we were informed "we're not scared now, we're just going to the toilet" all the lights were put on and they both went to the toilet, I retrieved the kitten who was hiding in our room, held her under one arm and went out to the hall to put the children back to bed again, as I entered the hall my daughter stood waiting on her brother, she was silent, just standing there, the kitten must have got the fright of her life, hissed and jumped out of my arms with her claws outstretched taking them right across my forearm and right nipple "AAHHHH" the frustrated mother let out, the kitten, she bolted. I immediately exposed my bleeding nipple to the 2 silent children "you're bleeding" they both announced! I've raised a couple of geniuses. I went back into my room for tissues and a further examination of said bleeding nipple. The husband was awakened by the kerfuffle "what's wrong now?"

"they got up for the toilet, I lifted the cat, she got a fright and now I have a bleeding nipple" I blurted.

"right, back to bed" the husband took over and the kids were not seen again until morning.

On Monday they were exhausted and crabbit. On Tuesday they had the school disco and my daughter had the Brownies party she was very quiet, ending up sleeping with me, well seen Daddy was on night shift, on Halloween we went along to a friends for a wee party and my daughter was again very quiet and stood aside while the party games were played, I realised at this point she must be coming down with something, we went home and with our neighbour they went around the doors, they had a fabulous night and have sweeties to last for months so another late night was had. Again she started in her own bed but ended up in mine, what a nightmare, she was unsettled all night, I actually thought she was going to be sick because she was so unsettled, however she got up fine in the morning and as I glanced passed her I thought, there is something not quite right about you, the right side of her face was very very swollen!
After a phone call to the NHS 24 help line and then the doctors surgery and finally the dentist it was agreed it was a dental problem, she had an abscess, the infection had obviously mad her quite ill. A visit to the dentist and she got anti-biotic and an appointment to get the offending tooth out, so she got Thursday and Friday off school much to her brothers disgust, but she defended herself by asking him 'would you got to school looking like this?' she was like a little munchkin.

Wednesday came and we headed to the dentist, she is such a good wee thing, not nervous, just gets on with it, that was until the dentist gave her the jags, she was not happy and complained mid jag that she didn't like it, it was sore, ah ah AAHHH 'all done at that side' he said and went in for a second jag, she screamed, she cried, I said 'it's ok, not long now!' as if that was any help at all, he removed the jag and we escaped the room. Big bad dentist, but I assured her it was for her own good and now she would get no more pain or another abscess. She was patient in the waiting room, playing with the lego, when it was time to go back in she refused! I carried her and the dentist shrugged his shoulders, if she's not up for it we'll have to leave it. After all that there is no bloody way I'm leaving without the tooth in my hand, so I calmly explained to her that now her mouth was numb she would feel nothing and if she didn't get the tooth out today we would have to come back and go through this again, she agreed 'can I sit on your knee mummy?' 'of course' said the dentist, we both sat on the chair and laid back, her heart was thumping, I whispered reassuring words in her ear, I don't think she could hear me. Ah, Ah, AAAH 'here it is!' said the dentist. 'All done, good girl, well done!' I said. Thank god! I thought. She was out that front door, swiping the sticker left at the counter as she went, I then took her to Woolworth's and let her pick whatever toy she wanted for being so brave and guess what she picked a PlayDoh dentist set. So that was her another day off school. The tooth fairy was very good to her, a friend of mine then said I should have left her less money as the tooth had to come out, to encourage her to look after her teeth, perhaps she's right, but I was the one at the dentist going through the trauma with her and I think she deserved it for being so brave. Had it been my son, I would never have got him back in the chair.

A traumatic week. Yes

On a more positive note, my website is now up and running, there are a few things still to be finished off, but I thought I would share it with my good friends on the blogosphere and let you have a sneak preview and see what you think, this will of course give away a bit of my identity,
let me know what you think www.nhpservices.co.uk

There will have to be an update part 2 as since I started writing this there have been further mishaps.

Friends forever......

2007-11-01T14:57:00.000Z

She was 13 or 14, her closest friend was 10 months younger, they had been friends for a long time and used to pretend to be cousins, they didn't play much together at school but out of school they were inseparable. Her friend had a brother, he was a spoiled boy, definitely a mummy's boy and she a daddy's girl. Her friend's house was great fun, her mother went out and her father stayed home to look after the kids, pretty normal by all accounts, he was a graphic designer and had his own business with offices near the High school.

They would go from one house to another, having dinner and staying for supper, just to extend the amount of time they had to play together if they were not sleeping over with each other. She could feel the love of her friend's family, happy and laughing together, she felt part of the family and enjoyed the buzz. The mother was slightly strict but when she went out the father would let them do anything, it was always so much fun and the father could act like a teenager and get away with it because the mother was not in, they played hid and seek, they wrestled, they ran out one door in through the other, their front door was always unlocked, unless of course they were locking each other out. They laughed and laughed it was the best place to be, more fun than any other home she knew.

This day it was the girls against the father, they would fun wrestle and try to escape, they would try to lock him out as it was always them getting locked out, they would try and trick him, running out one door as he chased and try to get in and lock the doors before he got around the side of the house, he was always to quick, the girl got in but her friend still outside. The key was turned. They laughed, she ran for the door to unlock it but was captured by the father who held her from behind, his arms around her, holding her wrists and restraining her from unlocking the door, still laughing they struggled over to the window waving her restrained hands at the daughter stuck outside the kitchen window. The daughter ran laughing to see if she could enter through the front door. It was then he brought his hands down and cupped them over her breasts, she was 13 or 14 there wasn't much breast to cup, he was silent pulling her closer, she could feel something hard in his trousers as he pulled her even closer. What was she to do, she immediately tried to pull away and couldn't believe what he was doing, not for the sexual implications, but he was a married man, surely a married man should not be touching another persons body, she knew that wasn't right, she blurted out 'you're a married man, I could tell your wife' he still restrained her, she shouted on her friend who appeared back at the window and he released her to let her friend back in. She never told a living sole. All night she wondered and puzzled over the hardness in his trousers, she had never seen a real life 'willie' before but imagined it would have been soft and squidgy, like boobs. She decided at that moment she would never allow herself to be alone in a room with him ever, she was used to being touched (not in a sexual way) by this man while they played, she had never felt uncomfortable, she did not consider herself a child but she was 13 or 14 and had no idea about sex, she knew couples 'did it' but didn't really know what 'it' was, it didn't even cross her mind to mention this to her mother. Funnily the games were never suggested by the father, it wasn't like he planned the games to suit him.

Months later, they played hid and seek, all of them, her friend and the brother, even the mother played, she should be perfectly safe, she was not alone. She hid behind a chair in the corner of a room, the father was it and he seeked, everyone else had been found, she was crouched down low with her eyes shut, he obviously knew where she was. She looked up to see if it was safe to run for the den, the father was stood at the door with his jogging trousers pulled down under his manhood! Her eyes met this with shock, she looked further up and her eyes met his, he smiled as he raised his eyebrows, he then covered up and shouted 'found you.' This was her first encounter with a penis. As this was not an erect penis, this further lead to the confusion of the hardness, she had nobody to ask. She had so much fun there before this, he had spoiled the fun, she still went to the house but usually when his car was not there, she did stay overnight when he was there but her friend shared a bedroom with the brother so there were three of them in the room, he never did come near her during the night. On one final encounter, she was in his open plan office with her friend, the mother worked there and there was another male designer who worked there, she stood looking at his designs on a drawing board, he was a fantastic designer, he had done things for the TV, she was talking about the designs and the drawing board, they were all there in the room looking at the designs and discussing them, his said 'let me show you how I do that' and stood behind her as everyone stood watching, this time thrusting just a little up against her, she turned and looked at him, she was in disbelief, she was in a room full of people and he could still get to her. The friendship fizzled out, she would not be put in that situation again.

Was he a pervert, had he done this before, or was this the first time, did he just see an opening and couldn't help himself, he never did touch her anywhere else, he did try once to put her hand on his hardness, always silent, but she kept her hand in a fist. Did he expect her to respond, did he actually think she would know what to do, never mind what it was. Perhaps she was naive, perhaps she should never have gone back, but she was 13 or 14 still the mind of a child, knowing it was not right but not actually realising the seriousness of it. Should her mother have warned her of such things. As she grew older she learned more and realised she had been a child, this was not acceptable. She moved away but briefly kept in touch with her friend who's dad had left his wife for a younger woman.

She wonders if this has had a dramatic effect on her sex life, she likes to be touched, but does not appreciate a quick grope, she does not like to be thrust upon and likes to have warning. She has to see her man, just for reassurance it is him. On one exceptionally drunk night, when her man fancied something a little bit different and she could not see him, she broke down in tears and after perhaps an hours persuasion she finally told her man her story, she apologised, he apologised, she wailed, 'I love you' and 'I love you' they said holding each other tight on that night 18 months ago. She had keep this story inside for 19 years, never telling a single sole, she said it was never to be discussed ever again and it never was.

She is now 35 and a self employed mum.

I love you!

2007-10-29T22:23:00.000Z

My other gran and papa, dad's parents, lived near my primary school, I rarely went there through choice, I had loads of friends in their street and liked to go out to play there but that was about it. I only recall staying overnight once. It was a strange house, there was Aunt Isobel's room, I remember there was a doll that lay on her unused bed, she lived in Spain and I didn't know her then, I was to small to remember her, she was the youngest of the 4 siblings, Auntie Grace, who was the oldest, lived in Zambia with her family, a husband and 2 daughters, my big cousins, so I didn't know her then either and Auntie Evelyn, the second youngest, she was married with a son and 2 daughters and I knew her well. There had been twins born, but they had both died, for some reason at 6 weeks old sticks in my head, but that could be inaccurate. Gran and papa had a 'scottie' dog called Blackie, I was terrified of Blackie, he barked and snapped and slept behind the tele, I was always reassured by my gran 'he won't touch you' as he was biting at my ankles, this was not reassuring. I did not feel comfortable there, it was like being left with strangers, I could only describe the house as cold in both atmosphere and emotion. I may have been loved, but I was not at home there. I remember on the night I was to stay over there was a bird nest outside the back door, my gran showed it to me and told me I was not to tell anyone so that the baby birds would not be frightened, I showed my friend next door, who then showed her brothers. My gran was very angry, she did not shout and I don't remember what she said but it made me cry and I went to bed feeling lonely and wanted my mum. My papa was a man a few words but I'm sure he had something to say that night.

During a refurbishment of their house, they were decanted into a caravan just around the corner from their house. I went to see them more often, I liked the caravan. They then moved into a newly built 2 bedroom flat down the road from us as they were getting older and the 3 bedroom house was a bit much for them, by this time Isobel was back from Spain and married a nice man and Grace back from Zambia, we always went to my grans on the 2nd January for a family gathering, I liked it then, I got to stay up very late. I liked my Aunt Evelyn she was more motherly and I felt closer to her then anyone else in the family.

Mum and dad had a blazing row one night and mum called gran, I remember a few occasions mum had tried to call, but dad had stopped her, it wasn't easy on a dialling phone, not like now when you can push the buttons in silence. She must have been afraid, I was not aware of any violence it was all psychological threats, his favourite being 'I'll put that chip pan on and burn this fucking house down one night' she would lie awake on the nights where we had chips to go with the dinner. Gran and papa came, it was the middle of the night and they were none to pleased, I was up, of course, I don't know what was said but my papa reduced my father to tears, I was bewildered, my dad in tears! My dad was not happy that his parent had been.

Mum got a part time job when I went to school and a full time job when I was 8, granny gave up her work, she would be 58, she came to our house every day, she kept the house, went shopping and was there for me coming home from school and during school holidays, she made the dinner for mum coming home and would have her dinner with us, leaving enough for dad to reheat when he came home from the pub, then she would make her way home on the train, often on a Friday night I would go home with her and spend the weekend there. We had a spell of living there for a few days during another separation period but as usual we went back.

Granny decided she wanted to be closer to us, the travelling was becoming too much, she went to the council to put her name on the housing list but they said she couldn't as she was not living in the area, so she bought a residential caravan in the area and her name went on the list. She could now walk to our house. It was a great arrangement, the house was well kept, gave granny a purpose and some money in her pocket and I could stay at home during the holidays and play with my friends. Eventually granny was offered a flat which was half way between the caravan and our house, I never imagined this would be the place she would eventually have to leave as she would be unfit to look after herself.

Over the years the arguments became more frequent and more heated, my father would come home and if the dinner didn't suit he would make a point of wakening my mother to tell her, not that she had made the dinner, that was granny's job and nor would she have been sleeping either if chips were on the menu. He would shout and swear and threaten, 'I'll put you through that f'in windae' as I got older he hid the arguments less, he would not stop when I entered the room. How things change, he had protected me when I was younger, my mum had to try and protect me even more now. She would often come into my room during the night and snuggle in beside me, simply as she could take no more and new that he would not disturb me.

As a mother I know what I would do to protect my children, my mother lived on her nerves, trying to keep life as normal as possible for me, I would often ask if they were going to divorce, my dad always answered, no, the thought of them not living together made me upset, this must have added pressure to my mother as I'm sure all the times when we went to the safe haven that was granny's house I would have eventually asked to go back. My mums self esteem was at an all time low, she lived in robotic mode. I am angry at my father for putting my mother through this, although I did not realise that then.

One negative point that has come out of this is my refusal to argue in front of my children or argue at all, I did argue with hubby before we got married and after, but not once the children came along. I do shout at my children, don't get me wrong, but I will not subject them to arguing parents saying things that cannot be taken back. This does not sound a negative point but I fear it is, I tend to huff and then things that should have been said are swept under the carpet resulting in feelings being kept bottled up, be it good or bad. The hubby and I have been married for over 11 years for 10 of those years we have had children, I can't imagine life without him, he is not a 'discuss your feelings' kind of bloke, but he would be if I had allowed him to be, he reduces me to tears when he says simple sincere things like 'I don't deserve you' usually when he's had 'a few' I find it so difficult to respond and I don't know why. I tell my children loads of times a day that I love them and they do likewise, but can I say these 3 wee words to my husband? I know he loves me, he knows I love him, it's an unspoken understanding. Our marriage is a good one. I can't say the words, well I can after quite a few drinks! Is it a fear if I let out those words he might break my heart? Might reject me? I am reduced to tears when he tells me he loves me, so he doesn't he just uses the kisses and cuddles like I do to verify our love.

3 simple words leave me broken.

99 things about me

2007-10-25T12:33:00.000+01:00

Thought I would break the intensity for a bit, saw this over at Dgibbs http://www.myfavoriteatistic.blogspot.com/ and thought it was some good fun.

99 questions if you are reading this you can consider yourself tagged if you like.

1. How old will you be in five years? OMG the big 4 0

2. Who did you spend at least two hours with today? the kids

3. How tall are you? 5’6

4. What do you look forward to most in the next six weeks? my level 2 Reiki course 9.30am to 7.30pm without someone saying MUM.

5. What's the last movie you saw? Ratatouille

6. Who was the last person you called? the hubby

7. Who was the last person to call you? the hubby

8. What was the last text message you received? 'ok' from my sister-in-law Lorraine

9. Who was the last person to leave you a voicemail? my sister-in-law Tracy

10. Do you prefer to call or text? depends who it is, call normally but at work text, because I can't here on the phone when the embroidery machine is running

11. What were you doing at 12am last night? I'll not be too graphic but it involved batteries, hubby on permanent night shirt you know! a girl has needs

12. Are your parents married/separated/divorced? Divorced for about 17 years

13. When is the last time you saw your mom? last night, she watched the kids while I went to see granny.

14. What color are your eyes? hazel green

15. What time did you wake up today? 7.50, alarm went of at 7 and I snoozed til 7.50

16. What are you wearing right now? Well because I'm at work, in a cold industrial unit, I have a thermal vest, long sleeved top, fleece and haven't removed my jacket as yet and of course my jeans

17. What is your favorite Christmas song? Rudolph the red nosed reindeer

18. Where is your favorite place to be? Bed

19. Where is your least favourite place to be? any where cold, like my work

20. Where would you go if you could go anywhere? Anywhere hot, with a pool

21. Where do you think you'll be in 10 years? Hopefully a high class business women, working from home, with some other person manning the cold unit.

22. Do you tan or burn? oh tan

23. What did you fear was going to get you at night as a child? a witch

24. What was the last thing that REALLY made you laugh? A blog by Danielle the hor about an ex boyfriend who covered her mouth with his and blew causing snot to come out of her nose, hilarious, it's they way she tells them!

25. How many TVs do you have in your house? 4

26. How big is your bed? standard double

27. Do you have a laptop or desktop computer? laptop

28. Do you sleep with or without clothes on? pj's every time and socks in the winter

29. What color are your sheets? white

30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 2

31. What is your favorite season? summer

32. What do you like about fall? I like crisp dry days

33. What do you like about winter? Proper snow

34. What do you like about the summer? the heat, not that we get that much of it!

35. What do you like about spring? Daffodils

36. How many states/provinces have you lived in? 1

37. What cities/towns have you lived in? I've always lived in Glasgow - Bishopbriggs, then Kirkintilloch and now Lennoxtown

38. Do you prefer shoes, socks, or bare feet? socks unless it's roasting then bare feet

39. Are you a social person? Sometimes, depends on the people available to socialize with.

40. What was the last thing you ate? Minstrels

41. What is your favorite restaurant? Frankie & Benny's

42. What is your favorite ice cream? Strawberry

43. What is your favorite dessert? chocolate fudge cake

44. What is your favorite kind of soup? Anything to do with cream of tomato

45. What kind of jelly do you like on your PB & J sandwich? I assume jelly would be like our jam, I have never had a PB sandwich in my life, is that bad? I like mixed fruit jam

46. Do you like Chinese food? Yes

47. Do you like coffee? not often

48. How many glasses of water a day? big fat 0

49. What do you drink in the morning? Tea

51. Do you sleep on a certain side of the bed? right side, I always have the side nearest the door

52. Do you know how to play poker? absolutely not

53. Do you like to cuddle? Love it

54. Have you ever been to Canada? No

55. Do you have an addictive personality? Yes - like blogging

56. Do you eat out or at home more often? Home

58. Do you know anyone with the same birthday as you? yes

59. Do you want kids? got 2 thanks

60. Do you speak any other languages? Queens english and Glaswegian LOL

61. Have you ever gotten stitches?4 in my left thigh, when I was 8

62. Have you ever ridden in an ambulance? No

63. Do you prefer an ocean or a pool? pool

64. Do you prefer a window seat or an aisle seats? aisle on the way up, then after that I couldn't care less

65. Do you know how to drive stick? this made me laugh, definitely an American turn of phrase, Yes

66. What is your favorite thing to spend money on? Prefer to spend it on kids

67. Do you wear any jewelry 24/7? Wedding ring and signet ring granny bought me again when I was 8

68. What is your favorite TV show? Waterloo Road

69. Can you roll your tongue? yes

71. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? No

72. What is the main ring tone on your phone? Dance version of Deeper love

73. Do you still have clothes from when you were little? No

74. What red object is closest to you right now? a polo shirt

75. Do you turn off the water while you brush your teeth? No

76. Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed? Closed

77. Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of bees? Neither

79. What do you dip a chicken nugget in? Don't do chicken nuggets

80. What is your favorite food? pasta

81. Can you change the oil on a car? No

82. Have you ever gotten a speeding ticket? No

83. Have you ever run out of gas? ran out of Petrol once

84. What is your usual bedtime? 10.30pm

85. What was the last book you read? Ulrika Johnstons autobiography, long time ago.

86. Do you read the newspaper? only the local one

87. Do you have any magazine subscriptions? No

89. Do you watch soap operas? Yes Coronation Street and Eastenders

90. Do you dance in the car? yes

91. What radio station did you last listen to? Clyde 1 in the car this morning

92. Who is in the picture frame closest to you? I have 3 photos of kids, right in front of me, without frames, 1 of them together and 2 individual photo's

93. What was the last note you scribbled on a piece of paper? Treasurers address for local school, looking for commission for uniforms.

94. What is your favorite candle scent? mmmm like the wintery red ones

95. What is your favorite board game? Trivial pursuit

98. Who was your favorite teacher in high school? Mrs Murray, English teacher I had her for 3 years and got top marks in O-grade and higher

99. What is the longest you have ever camped out in a tent? Never camped, bugs and no hair straighteners, what can I say, no thank you.

Feel free to join in, go on you'll enjoy it.

Granny

2007-10-22T21:32:00.000+01:00

Before speaking about my dad I felt it important to discuss the family goings on in order that the whole journey makes sense, not only to you but to me.

By now I am 5 and a half, at school and still an only child, it was not sensible for my mother to have considered another child while we were in our one bedroom flat, moving to our 2 bedroom house when I was 3 wasn't to bad for timing I don't suppose, but there was a house to furnish/carpet and only one wage, but of course that one wage covered drinking costs first. I believe my father gave my mother £10 a week and she would have received family allowance, all this money (ha ha) had to pay rent and rates and food etc etc. granny was always good she bought me clothes and shoes. Having granny stay with us for months probably didn't do my parents love life much good either. My mum was waiting for the right time to consider having another child, always hoping I'm sure that when my father promised to 'be good' that one day he would and she would have that other child. At the age of 32, when I was 7 she thought she had accidentally fallen pregnant as it certainly wasn't planned, however, it turned out to be an early menopause, the decision was taken from her hands, so an only child I have stayed.

Granny gave us Uncle Berts car, as she couldn't drive, I remember it well, it was a red Renault 5 and very new. My father took it to the pub and it lay in the pub car park, I assume too he drove it back up the road, we only stayed a 10 minute walk from the pub, so gran took the car back and sold it. I don't remember much about it but I remember feeling the embarrassment, whether I felt this for my mother or I was embarrassed I'm not sure. I've got a feeling she sold the car and gave the money to my mum. We lived in a brand new house that had a gas fire and central heating downstairs, there were no radiators upstairs? We had a plug in Dimplex radiator which would heat my room and then be moved into mum and dad's room. My mum used the money to install central heating upstairs.

I have no strong recollections between Xmas 1977 until I was about 8, whether this means everything was rosy I'm not sure.

My dad had a few jobs, there was the blue transit van job, whatever that might have been? Then there was a green van - Go Plant was the name on the van. He drove a road sweeper but was found 'outside his territory' whatever that meant and was given his books. He was probably found in the pub. He then worked for a local haulage company, he was their mechanic. He fell out with the owner and either left or was given the sack. He was never stuck for a job though because he was a great mechanic. Those were the days wages came in brown packets, dad would rip the wage slip into minute pieces so that my mother did not know how much money he got paid. He did always go to work, I have no idea what time he finished work because he went straight to the pub, probably no later than 4.30, the pubs closed at 11, so he would come home at about 11.20 and then heat up his dinner which had been left in the pot for him. He often worked a Saturday morning, til 12 and always came home at 3, why 3? because the pubs closed between 3pm and 6pm on a Saturday and a Sunday. He always sat into the corner of the couch with his smelly feet resting on the underneath of the coffee table, he always had an aroma of oil, mixed with stale beer, but that was just dad. I would nestle in to the corner with him, his arm around my shoulder and we would watch the wrestling. Easy Easy we would chant at Big Daddy, this was real wrestling, none of the WWE nonsense we have on the TV these days. We would have our family dinner and he would shower, the aromas of the day all washed away and exchanged for Old Spice aftershave. Back to the pub for 6, leaving a disappointed little girl wishing he would stay home, occasionally he would come home at 3pm with some Tenants lager, 4 bottles of Babysham for my mum and a can of coke for me and we would have a night in, I occasionally got a little sip of the Babysham. But this was rare. Although I was disappointed it really didn't occur to me to question his going to the pub, as I've said before I thought this was a mans way. I do remember if he came home unexpected I was so pleased to see him.

My mum tried to keep things normal for me, I was not allowed to have friends into play at the weekend when dad was due home, simply because my mum was embarrassed, she didn't want parents of other children coming in with my dad there being making a fool of himself. He would not have been rude or argumentative in front of other people, in fact most people thought he was great fun. There were plenty of heated arguments but they mainly happened during the night, obviously because my dad wasn't in any other time. There was screaming and shouting on both sides, I would go downstairs, I'm not sure how I felt, I was frightened by the shouting, upset because my mum was upset, as soon as I was wakened by shouting I would run down stairs, open the living room door and it would stop my dad used to always say 'Hello doll' as if everything was normal, I would immediately go to my mum who would be red faced with crying, my dad would put his arms out to offer a cuddle and reassure me, it's ok, but I knew it was not, I could sense it from my mum. I wonder how he felt as I passed his offer and went to comfort my mum, she needed me. There would be no more shouting if I had been up. I was never ever frightened of my dad, I was frightened by his shouting towards my mother I did not like it. My mother had every reason to be angry with my father, he kept her short of money while he drunk the rest, he was of no help in the house or with me. She started going to a ladies night with some of the neighbours and he came home the first few weeks to look after me and let her go but after that he would just not come home, she would be all ready in anticipation and he just didn't come home, she made her excuses and never went again. My mother has a temper, takes it from her father and sometimes she would not let up, she would push and push until she got a reaction, he would ignore her questions 'one night you're asked to come home, one night' if you want to push my mothers buttons ignore her! I remember one night she slapped him, I was there, but he slapped her back. I don't think she expected that. My dad would get up in the morning and wonder why we were ignoring him, he really didn't know, you put it down to drink. For years my mother used to say 'you're loopy' and she meant it, she was convinced he had a mental health issue. They would have these arguments and then dad would come home every night after work, we had a normal life, it would last for a few weeks and then he would go to the pub one night, then two.......

Gran decided she wanted to move back nearer us and bought a great flat about 20 minutes drive away, it was huge, it had a very formal sitting room, gran furnished it with a self coloured cream carpet, I would lie on my back and make an angel on this carpet, there was a walk in cupboard in this room all shelved, grans jewellery box, photo's stored, lots to keep a little girl amused. The bathroom was very long, there was a cupboard on the left as you entered, then the wash hand basin and then the bath, a huge bath, with a pulley above it, the ceilings so high you could have and bath and have your washing hanging up, the toilet was straight ahead, felt like you walked for miles to get there, encountering a step up half way, it was like heading for the throne, quite literally. Then there was the other room, I've gone blank, I have no idea what we called it, probably the living room, this was the hub of the flat, dining table as you entered, a partitioned off corner behind the dining table which was the kitchen, it was tiny. To the right of the room where 2 chairs, placed at either side of the fire and if you swivelled right again you would see the bed recess or hole in the wall bed, my gran used to call it, this was the bedroom, dining room, living room and kitchen in the corner room. The bed recess was the exact size of a single mattress, 3 walls shaped around the mattress and a lower ceiling, my gran had a cane curtain hung at one end of the recess to separate it off from the room, it was also partly separated by one of the chairs. I played in the recess for hours, it was dark, private and cosy. When I stayed my gran slept in the fold-up bed in this room and I slept in the bed recess. She would be up early, dressed have the bed away and potter about, I would be cosy, drifting in and out of sleep, safe in the knowledge she was there. Apart from the security of a loving granny it was a safe flat. It was a tenement flat on the first floor, it had a half glass panelled door and then storm doors, one storm door always lay open during the day, you knew you were in for the night when the storm doors were locked, one door bolted into the ground and then into the solid panel above, the other had a huge solid, I was going to call it a bolt, but it was a long silver, flat piece of metal with groves cut from it, that had the most unusual shaped key to open it from the outside, the key wasn't really a key, it was equivalent to what I know now as an Allan Key, this 'key' slid though the keyhole and latched onto the groves in the long silver piece of metal thingy, turning the key to slide it open or closed, there were other 2 other locks, a Yale lock and a mortise lock. Safe. Absolutely. In all senses.

I'm doing a bit of self analysis now. I want to talk about my dad, but I want to sort out everything. At this stage in my life, that is the 5-14 yrs, there isn't much to say about dad, he went to the pub every night, so that's covered, but I have to talk about the memories, the things that bring joy to my heart and go through it rationally, the important things. I will get to dad, but gran played such a major part in my life and she features so strongly in these early days. I feel bad today as she is in a nursing home, with severe dementia and doesn't even know who I am anymore, I haven't been to see her since June, I'm not making excuses but I've worked all summer with the uniforms, hubby has been on night shift and takes car and works at the weekends, I don't take kids to see her anymore as it gives her no pleasure and makes her unsettled, they don't understand dementia and make fun of her unintentionally as they were so used to what she was like before very on the ball and funny and my daughter was the absolute be all and end all in her life. This makes me cry and I am because I have lost my granny, she took TB and pneumonia in May 2005, she was still my granny then. We lost her about 12-18 months ago when she became institutionalised in the home. She knows only her daughter now. I was going to visit on Sunday as hubby now has a works van, mum was going to watch the kids and I was so unwell I couldn't go. I will go on Wednesday.

My gran is 85 years old I miss her, if anything was to happen to her and I haven't been to see her, would she forgive me, would she know. I have been selfish. I feel ashamed and upset. This can only be therapeutic I have just cried buckets for the last 30 mins.

Never to be forgotten Christmas 1977

2007-10-18T14:30:00.000+01:00

As a child I thought every daddy went to the pub in the evening, why should I think it not be the case. My dad did it so surely that was a mans way. It was not home for dinner and then out to the pub, no it was straight from work, I'm sure there would have been too much grief from my mother should he come home and have his dinner first. My gran sensing that perhaps her being there all the time was not helping the situation, she bought a caravan on a residential estate a 45 minute drive away. She would stay with us Monday to Thursday for work and retreat to the caravan, by train, on a Friday after work and return to us on a Sunday night. I missed her when she was gone. I was all alone in my big double bed, with nobody to sing with.

I'm not sure why, I think perhaps his mother had died, but Uncle Bert needed somewhere to stay, my gran said he should stay in the caravan, after all it was empty Monday to Thursday, my gran had it well stacked with all the possessions she had taken from the house, he would have somewhere to stay meaning the caravan no longer lay empty, it also meant she would not be alone at the weekends during the long winter nights. It was a one bedroom caravan, so Uncle Bert would sleep on the couch when my gran went home at the weekends. Uncle Bert had a car so they would go shopping and he would run her back and forward to our house for work. The situation was ideal for everyone, my mum no longer had to put a brave face on at the weekend, Uncle Bert had somewhere to stay, granny had company, but poor papa he was furious and nasty his best friend shacked up with his now ex-wife, he said things he could never take back. My mother must have been torn in two, her mother and father and their best friend all at logger heads, my gran saying things about my papa and vice versa and the fact was they were not 'shacked up'. I know this was a fact because my gran told me so and they had no reason to hid a relationship should they wish to have one, my gran was 53 and Uncle Bert was 50, they were both free agents, consenting adults. Uncle Bert bought another caravan and being the great handy man he was put them together and made a luxury 2 bedroom caravan. Sorted, a bedroom each, and should we go and stay, us 'the family' Uncle Bert gave up his room for us and slept on the couch.

Granny and Uncle Bert could see they got on and one day granny came in and announced they were getting married! My granny the master bombshell dropper. And my mother in a state of dumbfoundment blurted out 'Have you thought about the sex?' now to let you understand granny was a private person she never discussed periods or sex or body parts or bared skin in front of even my mother, so for my mother to blurt out this statement even at the age of nearly 29 must have knocked my granny of her feet a bit, but she calmly responded 'Yes, I have thought about the sex' to this day we have no idea what exactly she thought about it, perhaps they had already had a test drive and that was the clinching decider, who knows. Now perhaps other people could see this coming but I don't even think my gran and Uncle Bert did, I have no doubt they loved each other they had been best friends for 30 somewhat years, whether they were in love I don't know, but it was a love that would blossom. They had discussed it rationally and had decided to marry for varying reasons, for personal reasons Uncle Bert did not want any of his money or possessions, should he die, to go to his sister and who better to be his next of kin than his best friend. They had already set up home and worked well together. Uncle Bert was the most genuine, kind, lovely person so who better to spend the rest of your life with and many people assumed they were a couple as they lived in the same caravan anyway. And just in case anyone hasn't read the previous posts Uncle Bert was not related, simply named Uncle as you do with your closest friends and children. So on the 11th Feb 1977 granny married Uncle Bert in a registry office on her 54th birthday, I was 4 and proud as punch to be at my gran's wedding. I wonder if my mother warned me not to discuss the wedding with my papa or whether he was adult enough to realise I was a child and not concerned with the hurt and anguish he was going through. It was less than 2 years since my gran had walked out and left my papa. My papa had since moved to Dunoon as he had taken a job there. My gran left her job and went to work in 'the big house' in the caravan estate. It was a huge stately home, my gran cleaned and helped the lady of the house to cater for huge parties, my gran would cook, serve, clean and she loved it. My mum and I were now grandparent free, no longer gran coming in for dinner or papa waiting on the door step.

Whatever job my dad had at the time, he had a blue transit van, he usually always had a works van in all the jobs he had and there were a few. The blue transit van had 2 seats and an upside down drinks crate, the crate had a cushion on it and this was my seat, when I think about it now, sandwiched in between the 2 seats it makes me smile, smile at the memories and the complete madness, nobody wore seat belts and hey it's perfectly normal for a 4 year old to travel on a crate seat! We would go and spend the weekend with granny and Uncle Bert and the dog, how could I have forgotten the dog, she was a Yorkshire terrier named Midge, I assume my gran must have got custody of Midge because she was about before I was born, there was a fantastic beach nearby and the summer weather seemed to be much better then, we would all go to the beach with a big cooler box filled with food and juice and of course Tenants lager, in those days Tenants lager had the ladies on the cans, I at the age of 4 used to know the name of every lady on the cans. We would play games, eat, drink, go in the water, my dad was great fun, he always played whatever I wanted to, never said no, like my mother sometimes did in the house when she was in the middle of cleaning or cooking or gutting cupboards and I wanted to play a game. I find I now do that to my kids and it haunts me. I loved these times, but then my dad was happy too he had the best of both worlds his family and his lager. We would laugh and enjoy each others company and then my dad would drive us home. Didn't everyone drink and drive then?

My grans happiness was short lived when on the 22nd December 1977, 10 months after marrying, Uncle Bert had a massive heart attack and died age 50. His funeral took place on Boxing Day. I don't think we did much for Christmas that year. How sad for my mum and gran to have to carry on and make Christmas normal for me, I was 5.

MEME'd

2007-10-18T12:41:00.000+01:00

I interrupt this journey as dgibbs @ http://www.myfavoriteatistic.blogspot.com/ has tagged me to do a MEME about my writing, somewhere along the lines the guidelines seem to have gone astray, I like guidelines, it makes things easy. However I will wing it and may stray slightly from it being about my writing, I'll just see where my mind takes me!

1. I started this blog as I had read about 'Wife in the North' in a magazine and was impressed that someone could make money from blogging, little did I know that there are many people here who are serious writers. I just try and declutter my head and now have found a purpose by stating my journey. I have no intention of trying to be a serious writer or making money from it. I enjoy the community spirit and the friends I am making.

2. I am a self taught typist, I started working in Norwich Union, well it was General Accident when I started there in 1994 and couldn't type, I left 11 years later and can type faster then my mother who has been a secretary all her life. I am very proud.

3. I gained a level 1 in my English o-grade and a B in my higher grade, I am quite particular about grammar and punctuation. Although I find now I have to ask my 10 year old how to spell things as I take mind blanks.

4. Nothing makes me feel better than a good blether or laugh with my friends and now my fellow community bloggers.

5. When I start a post I start to write and it never ends in the direction I intended, I just go with the thoughts and end with the title, apart from on this occasion!

6. I am self employed, just in case you have realised that yet, and mainly blog at work which is really bad because I should be constructive and update eBay or find new customers but hey the machine is running so this passes the day quite nicely.

I now tag Manic Mother of five @ http://www.manicmotheroffive.blogspot.com/

And I will continue on my journey soon.

The separation

2007-10-16T16:16:00.000+01:00

My father was a mechanic to trade but also did driving jobs, he loved cars, the mechanics of cars obviously and driving, this is a love that passed to me, not so much the mechanics but the love of cars and driving.

It was 1975 we settled into our new house, me in my own room, in my own bed, our fresh beginning. A very sort time later my granny appears at the door and announces she is leaving my papa. Bombshell! She is furious at the debt he had got himself into, my gran is a cash women, you don't have the money, you save then spend. She could take no more of his temper and laziness. End of. Over. No going back. And she never did. Both my papa and my mother were devastated. Although they had arguments like every other couple they were good together. My mother was 28, they had been married for 32 years, they were the stability in my mothers life, she took it very badly. I was too young to understand but there was much excitement for me, granny was moving in! Granny sold her beautiful house for a grand total of £2000, a house that today would be worth nearly £300K, she cleared my papa's debt and my single bed was exchanged for a double, I loved it, the person I loved just as much as my mum and dad was staying with us. Papa, he went into a men's refuse for a short time this had no effect on me as granny staying far out weighted where papa might be.

My mum hadn't worked since she had me, women really didn't then, my gran, she worked full time, so my mother took over the roll that her mother had once played for her and her new husband. My mother couldn't believe the coldness granny was showing, many times, even before I was born, she had left my father as he had become so argumentative through drink, she had gone straight to her parents, her father, the protector, said she could stay as long as she liked and yet my granny who didn't suffer fools gladly always let him in, accepted his calls and always told my mother 'he is really sorry you know.' Had my granny said 'you're are not going back' I don't think she ever would have. On the worst occasion when I was a baby, my mother left with me in the coach built Silver Cross pram without even a coat, walking the 4 or 5 miles to her parents house, this time my papa put his foot down and my father was not to enter the house nor was my mother going back, he was not having this with such a young baby. Papa went in his Jaguar and collected my cot and some other necessities and told my father as much. Gran and papa's house had 3 bedrooms, my mother moved into the big room and my papa told my mother I should have the small room, little did my mother know the 3 piece bedroom suite in the small room would then come with granny and became my furniture, we all had our own space there was no need to go back. However, this time after many promises, my mother decided it wasn't fair to keep a baby from her father or indeed a father from his daughter and back we went, this was a pattern that was to repeat itself for many years to come. And yet here was granny less than 3 years later walking out on papa and she never did go back. How was this fair all the times she had been talked round by her mother to make her marriage work, I think the torment of this was worse than her parents actual separation.

My gran was always early to bed and early to rise (and quite rightly makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise - as the nursery rhyme goes) this suited me and every night we retired to bed together, lights out and we would sing;

Jesus bids us shine
with a pure clear light
like a little candle
burning in the night
In this world of darkness
so let us shine
you in your small corner
and I in mine.

Every time I hear this song I remember these times with great love and affection and of course a little tear in my eye.

We finally got our routine going, dad and Granny would go off to work and mum would take me to playgroup a few mornings a week, mum got a job in the playgroup doing some secretarial work, we would then come home to find papa waiting on the doorstep. He would stay for lunch, he would drink coffee and ask about my granny, perhaps he believed one day she would come back. Not that my mother minded him coming but when it was everyday she felt drained both physically and emotionally and then have to put her brave face on for granny coming in from work. My dad would then after dinner leave my mother and granny to blether and nip to the pub for 'a quick pint' and here starts another routine...

The new house

2007-10-14T23:00:00.000+01:00

My mother was an only child, she married my father in 1968, for 10 months they lived with my mothers parents until they got their first council flat. My granny and papa were a great couple, always entertaining, always the first in the street to get things, phone, TV, even a rotary clothes drier in the back garden. My granny worked all her life which was quite unusual in her day, most of her friends gave up working when they had families but my gran, she worked, she kept a lovely home and at one point had my mum and dad and her sister all living with her, she was cooking, cleaning, washing and ironing for them all. My papa on the other hand had a temper and preferred not to work, he fell out with countless bosses, losing jobs along the way. At one point, when my mum was pregnant with me, he owned 3 shops, unfortunately the shops did not manage themselves and he lost them all, leaving him and my gran in some debt. Any money he earned he would splash out at the local pub on his friends, who typically all thought he was great! My gran and papa had a bought house and my papa's best friend Bert, who was a great handy man helped to build the garage and landscape the garden, he was a great friend to them both and an Uncle to my mum, he in contrast to my papa was a great worker. At one point Uncle Bert had a job opportunity in Australia so him and my papa went with the intention of setting up a new life and then sending for my gran and mum. Uncle Bert had never married but would have sent for his mother. My papa in true form fell out with the boss and was back as quick as he had left, Uncle Bert stayed a while but his mother became ill and he returned to the UK.

My mum and dad lived married for four years before they had me, we lived in a 1 bedroom flat for 3 years, during which time I remained in a cot as there was no room for another bed, we then moved to our newly build 2 bedroom end terraced council house. This is when my first memories start. I was exactly 3 yrs and 1 month old. I remember walking up the hill to the new house, my mum with her shopping trolley, full of dishes etc, we walked that road 2 or 3 times a day for a while, I'm not sure how far it was maybe 1.5 to 2 miles, my mum couldn't drive and I don't even know if we had a car then. It was a great house, we always used the back door, why this is important to mention, I'm not sure. There was a huge walk in cupboard at the back of the kitchen and I mean huge it was the same size as the kitchen, we kept coats and shoes and shite in that cupboard, I played for hours in that cupboard, we also had a smaller full size cupboard facing you as you entered through the back door. The living room was what we called a through and through living room, I suppose because we came through from the kitchen at the dining end and entered the hall at the other end, the living end, the room was long and bright with windows at both ends and a gas fire on the middle wall, the hall was square and housed the green dialling phone and the unused front door, we would pass the front door to walk to the side gate and enter the back door, for years this bothered me and I wanted my mum to leave the front door unlocked in order that I could use it, she refused it was always locked, I suppose it was so that strangers could not enter and go upstairs unnoticed. Upstairs was my mum and dad's bedroom which housed yet another cupboard over the stairs, my mum was very proud of the cupboard space in her new home, our bathroom was standard and the bathroom shared a wall with my bedroom. Ahhh my bedroom, the room that has been the most important to me in all my 35 years. I lived in this bedroom from the age of 3yrs and 1 month to the age of 17 yrs and 10 months, 14 yrs and 9 months compared to my 35 years does not seem many but it was my most influential years and the one and only house I have ever considered home.

I now know this house was to be a fresh start, my dad liked a drink and this caused many arguments as my dad would give my mother a showing up by getting drunk and becoming outspoken, my mum was of a slightly different class to my father, she was an only child, my gran and papa had more money, a bought house, they had been well brought up and were quite posh, my gran slightly on the snobby side, where as my father had 3 sisters, lived on a council estate all his life and there was nothing posh about them, they were just ordinary people, my papa B liked a drink and it was the only time he had cracked a smile the rest of the time he sat silent glued to the tele, he didn't have much time for children, I don't think he knew what to do with us.

So fresh start it was my dad promised to spend less time going to the pub. A promise is a promise after all, how wrong could it go.......................

The journey - day 1

2007-10-12T15:19:00.000+01:00

Today I start a journey and as the journey goes on I hope to make sense of it. I was going to do a post on my father, which effectively I still am but I am going to go back to the beginning, the very beginning. Let me explain the reasoning, I spoke yesterday about the fact that perhaps I haven't grieved properly for my father and my papa and I can't really sum up my father in one post. I had an encounter about 5-6 years ago with a spiritualist at a friends house, when I say a spiritualist, she was a neighbour of the friend whose house I was at and she has 'the gift,' we were having a wee ladies night and at the end of the night she spoke to me about my father and since that time I have never felt right emotionally. As we go further down the line I will speak in detail about her, but her closing words were 'write a letter to your dad and leave it somewhere safe, he will heal your pain' I had until that night not realised I was in pain, she also suggested lighting candles, sitting in front of a mirror and praying and he would come to me. I promised to do the letter, but not the candles for obvious reasons. To this day I have never done the letter, I am afraid of the emotional upset that comes with it, for about 2 years the events that took place that night played turmoil with my mind. So the journey is this, I want to replay my life, out loud, with the end result being the letter and perhaps some day I will be brave enough to light the candles.

I don't know what it will achieve or what to expect, I feel as though I was given a mission and I haven't completed it and until I do it will hang over me. I was happy we spoke, don't get me wrong, but in a way I feel she devastated me. She is making me deal with something that is locked away deep inside.

On the plus side I'm only 35 so it shouldn't take too long to deal with my life.....

I hope you will join me on my journey.

Emotional day

2007-10-11T21:54:00.000+01:00

I went to a funeral today. I have only every been to one funeral before. I cry at the drop of a hat and am afraid that I will get myself into a worse state than the family. Today however was my very good friend's father, although she is a very good friend I didn't know her father very well and had only meets him a handful of times. My friend has 3 sisters and a brother, I know 2 of her sisters, twins, very well. The hubby said I had to go, she was my friend and she should know I was there. He was right.

The church was packed, Charlie was a religious man, a union man and a pillar of the community, the priest said the world did not deserve a person as beautiful as Charlie. The tears rolled gently down my right cheek. His 11 year old granddaughter did a reading, a few more tears rolled down my cheek. The priest knew Charlie very well and the service was very fitting. During communion they played Ave Maria at this point I was thinking 'I knew I shouldn't have come' the gentle, occasional tears flowed a little faster. Just as the service was coming to an end and I was feeling quite proud that my face and eyes wouldn't be too red and puffy my friend's brother and sister each paid a tribute to their father. They were very good, very proud to be known as Charlie's children and just as my friends sister came to the end of her tribute she hesitated slightly, finishing her sentence in tears. This was the breaking of me. The coffin was then carried out, followed by the family and my friend, being supported by her older sister. I tried desperately to keep the big crying sighs in as I felt my friends pain and suffering. Perhaps I am being selfish but I couldn't go to the crematorium, I have no issue with crying I do it all the time, but I feel embarrassed, people will wonder why I'm in such a state. So I went to work and hubby continued on without me.

Both my dad and my papa are dead and I didn't attend either funeral and although I cried when they died, I don't think I have ever grieved so when someone else dies, anyone, I get into a state.

My dad died on Mothers day, 10th March 1991, I was 19. I am going to do a post on my father so I will save the details for that.

My papa died in May 1997. On the day of his funeral I was overdue with my first child and his funeral was being held about 1 and a half hours drive away from my home, so I chose not to attend for fear of going into labour and my mother being in a state. So I suppose I have never grieved and had the closure of attending a loved ones funeral and yet I can blank that emotion.

Perhaps I need some councilling.

Let down

2007-10-08T11:09:00.000+01:00

I worked late on Friday night to avoid coming to work over the weekend and because I had an order to complete for Sunday. My graphic designer who has become a friend is a rugby coach and had wanted some waterproof jackets for the coaches, they required a standard left hand breast embroidered logo and printing on the back, now I don't do printing but I do have another colleague who does. The jackets were dropped at the printer at 6.30 on Friday night and the graphic designer was collecting them on Saturday directly from the printer. Easy. Job done. Of course not.

Saturday morning as I'm standing watching the last 15 minutes of my son's football game the printer phones to say the printing is not working, it won't stick. He believes because the jackets are waterproof. Bugger. So I call the graphic designer, the only solution is I check other printers (on Monday) but they may not then print just the odd 1 in the future should there be other coaches join or I embroider them. She suggests I go ahead and embroider them that very afternoon. This is all very well coming from the lady who works from home. But I had several reasons why I couldn't. The main reason being due to the size of the embroidery it would take approx 30 minutes for each jacket and there were 9, so 4.5 hours to complete the jackets. I had arranged to go into town after football to get my friend a very belated birthday present as she was having a small party that night. My friend would not have been offended had I explained the situation but my hubby was going straight to work after the football so I had two children to deal with. Two children who I was unwilling to take to the unit for hours, if it was a proper shop opposed to an industrial unit, where they could lounge in warmth and amuse themselves then fair enough. I could have got a babysitter, but that required a car to transport them and I knew hubby would be in a hurry to get to work so I had to say no, I don't think she was to impressed, I offered the jackets as they were and they could be embroidered at a later date, she said there was 'no point. ' They are now off for a couple of weekends so they will get them for the next time. Was I glad it was a lovely day yesterday, there was no need for warm, cosy, waterproof jackets. I assume she was glad too.

I wouldn't normally have said no, but the situations was all too much for me, made me feel stressed and subconsciously I must have known all was not well, by Saturday night after an afternoon in the town with the children and a relaxing late afternoon getting ready to go to my friends house I had a streaming cold, sore throat and felt miserable.

But still I feel I let her down.

Our Little 'Angel'

2007-10-01T22:56:00.000+01:00

Finally our little kitten comes to play.

She has been named 'Angel' by the children.

She is 7 weeks old and has just had her mad half hour.

Obviously to much for her.

Working v the real radio renegade

2007-09-26T15:56:00.000+01:00

I am so busy at work with embroidery and many new enquiries, which usually turn into business, I am pleased with the way the business is progressing, I think my advert in the Yellow pages has been worth it as it seems to be generating new, unrefered customers.

I had a call from the web designer yesterday who refered me onto his collegue, Jim, who deals with transfering the email details, he checked which webmail site I was using for email - outlook, outlook express? I confimed I used Netfirms, which is the hosting companies own webmail page. He was glad he had checked because apparently when he transfers the hosting over to the server they are using, unless I was using a version of outlook I would have lost all my emails. This would have been a disaster, I confirm prices, orders, designs all by email. We were then able to transfer all the emails, all 2500, onto outlook express. He called back this morning, I think relieved, the transfer had completed this morning after only 24 hours after he had requested it, normally it takes 5-7 days to complete. Boy was he glad I hadn't lost my emails.

They now wait on me to put together text for the website. It is so difficult. I am too busy to do it during working hours, I sat on Monday night, the delinquents tucked up in bed, hubby on nightshift and as I started I was greeted by upset 10 yo who had a sore head and a sore tummy and runny eyes and a cough. I doped him up with cough medicine, medised for the pain and benadryl in case he was having an allergic reaction to the 3 cats and 2 kittens he had spent the afternoon with. He was sent to bed. He appeared half an hour later and being the sympathetic mother I am, I ordered him to get his house coat and slippers and sit there until he felt ready for bed as I was trying to work. He did, the poor red eyed little boy, sniffing periodically, to remind me he was there until his eyes became heavier and I reordered him to bed for fear that I may have to carry him back to bed as once he was sleeping there was no way he was going to waken after all the medicine. After that I was a bit brain dead, so I will continue tonight.

The good thing about hubby's night shift, apart from the money, is the fact it is 4.20 and I am still at work with the machine rattling away completing another order. Although I would have been happy to leave at 1pm today and might have done if hubby hadn't come in and taken car away to go and see a car for himself. The Real Radio Renegade was in Lennoxtown today with a £2000 bounty on his head, I would have loved the thrill of the chase and the possibility of catching him, I live in Lennoxtown, just outside Glasgow and where was he caught, at the top of our street, I am 3 houses away from the top of the street, hubby had just left the street to come and bring me my lunch. I ordered him out to search at 1.20, he told me he had been in the bakers for rolls and the baker said there had been a wee fat english guy in a chefs uniform asking where the bank was. He lacked enthusism and complained the main street had been busy! I missed my chance, you never know....

Sex disappointment

2007-09-19T12:46:00.000+01:00

I am not a sex mad woman, much to my husbands disappointment. I find the whole experience pleasant, however, I am more of a morning person, which is useful when your husband is at work. I do tend to 'have the notion' when my husband is not home, as soon as he comes home funnily the notion wares off. Sex is not something I feel I need to talk about, my friends seem to think I am unusual but I am simply tired. I love to have a bath and go to a clean freshly changed bed, to my husband this is a come and take me sign. Unless I am in the mood this infuriates me for a few reasons;

the bed is no longer clean, I could solve this by putting down a towel, but if I was to put down the towel in advance the hubby might get the wrong idea, I could wait til the action starts but then at what point in the proceedings do you announce 'Wait til I get the towel'

I am no longer clean, meaning I have to rewash in the morning and that is not on the morning schedule. I have no solution!

It keeps me awake for another 30 minutes, not the action, it's over in about 5 minutes, 3 minutes to talk me into it and 2 minutes to do the deed itself. Obviously the stimulation wakes me up and I find myself gibbering like a budgie, meanwhile hubby has rolled over and is snoring. Clearly the relief lets him sleep peacefully.

I am quite shy and inexperienced when it comes to sex, I have at the age of 35 only had 2 sexual partners, one of which I have been married to for 11 years but spent the last 16 years with. Every now and again I think I must make an effort and buy some books or perhaps go mad and get a pornographic movie, which I might add I have never watched in my life, but any of my friends would have no problem providing me with such materials, I'm sure they feel sorry for hubby and would be delighted I am taking an interest. But where do you find the time and the privacy? I did once book us into a hotel for an overnight stay with the intention of spending hours discovering each others bodies, we had a little quickie in the afternoon, went to the pub, had dinner, went back to the room and hubby feel asleep watching a film! We then sleep so late we had to get up and leave the room immediately.

Why I talked today, I have discovered www.lindystars.blogspot.com where she talks about sex, at first I was embarrassed, reading without comment, however now I am openly commenting, she is hilarious and made me realise sex is rather funny, in fact I have never laughed out loud so much for a long time. Although I am a little prudish I have no problem answering my children's awkward questions, my son is 10 and has started talking about sex and his peAnis, we did correct him but I think it ruined his day, he thought it was PeAnis because you pea-ed out of it, we then proceeded to talk at great length about the spelling and difference between pea, pee and penis, tuns out him and his friends have been looking up 'dirty' words in the dictionary.

Anyway I am the proud owner of a rabbit to which my friends use as a great example to convert any female who doesn't own a battery operated implement - even Nicola's got one they jest. Obviously my reputation proceeds me.

So today I would like to leave you with this.

THE LORDS PRAYER

My vibro, which brings me heaven.

Rabbit be thy name.

Til kingdom come, thy makest me cum, on earth with eyes on heaven.

Give me this day my daily thrill & forgive me my screams, as I forgive flat batteries.

Lead me not into temptation, but deliver me from frustration.

For thine is the rotation, the power and the buzzing.

Forever and even.

No men!

Delia Smith v The Real Woman......

2007-09-18T13:30:00.000+01:00

Still on the cooking theme, here's a little funny email I got recently...

Delia's Way
Stuff a miniature marshmallow in the bottom of a sugar cone to prevent ice-cream drips.
The Real Woman's Way
Just suck the ice cream out of the bottom of the cone, for God's sake. You are probably lying on the couch with your feet up eating it anyway.
Delia's Way
To keep potatoes from budding, place an apple in the bag with the potatoes.
The Real Woman's Way
Buy Smash and keep it in the cupboard for up to a year.
Delia's Way
When a cake recipe calls for flouring the baking tin, use a bit of the dry cake mix instead and there won't be any white mess on the outside of the cake.
The Real Woman's Way
Tesco's sell cakes. They even do decorated versions.
Delia's Way
If you accidentally over-salt a dish while it's still cooking, drop in a potato slice.
The Real Woman's Way
If you over salt a dish while you are cooking, that's tough. Please recite with me the Real Woman's motto: "I made it and you will eat it and I don't care how bad it tastes."
Delia's Way
Wrap celery in aluminium foil when putting in the refrigerator and it will keep for weeks.
The Real Woman's Way
It could keep forever. Who eats it anyway?
Delia's Way
Cure for headaches: Take a lime, cut it in half and rub it on your forehead. The throbbing will go away.
The Real Woman's Way
Cure for headaches: Take a lime, cut it in half and drop it in 8 ounces of vodka. Drink the vodka. You might still have the headache, but you wont give a sh*t?
Delia's Way
If you have a problem opening jars, try using latex dish washing gloves. They give a non-slip grip that makes opening jars easy.
The Real Woman's Way
Why do I have a man?

Finally, the most important tip ..................
Delia's Way
Freeze leftover wine into ice cubes for future use in casseroles.
The Real Woman's Way
Left over wine???? Hello!!!!!