Kit Courteney writes

Unconscious Mutterings #470

2012-02-03T15:45:00.000Z

She says, we think...

...the first thing that comes to mind...

Every day :: in every way, I'm getting better and better (from a Frank Spencer episode).
Rinsed :: Off
Funeral :: Six Feet Under (Wonderful series).
Whitening :: Lightening
I am :: he (Oddly, another reference to Frank Spencer springs to mind).
Cooperate :: Or die
Blazer :: Eraser
Valley :: Of the Dinosaurs (It used to be on throughout the 70s, on a Saturday morning - brilliant!).
Difficult :: Times
Service :: With a smile

Goodbye. And, hello.

2012-01-04T16:59:00.000Z

Time for another instalment of the Insecure Writer's Support Group.

Hoorah!

Regular readers will know that I started work a couple of months ago. Just a part-time, early morning cleaning job for now, but I need to earn money and it suits me.

However, even though I still have plenty of time to write (in theory) I find that I've done less (almost none) since starting this job.

My intentions were good. I planned to crack on with it as soon as I stopped feeling SO tired (4am starts - eek) - bookmarking time over Christmas for it while I was off for 2 weeks.

But it didn't happen.

Granted, circumstances haven't been conducive. The Boyfriend's 19-year-old son came to stay (he lives in Cornwall as he has a job down there) for the festive season (goes home tomorrow... HOW am I going to cope... he has the sweetest nature, is wonderful with The Dog AND does the washing up without being asked!) and has been staying in the spare room/study.

He's not the tidiest of creatures (he's his father's son, after all) and as it's a very small room, he's had his stuff spread out a bit, out of necessity. Think: ~~bomb site~~ obstacle course.

I could have done some writing on The Boyfriend's laptop but it doesn't put me in the right 'head-space'. I like to be sitting at my desk. Notes to my left, ~~wine~~ tea to my right.

I like routine.

So, where does 'insecurity' fit in?

Well, I kind of feel as if I've got rusty after a few weeks of doing very little. Can I still construct a sentence? Can I still plot? Cna I sitll sellp?

I've read all these wonderful blog posts that have been appearing over the last month or so - how much writing everyone is doing, how successful you all were at NaNo, new twists and turns you are all developing and how to keep momentum going during the holidays (pah!) and I just feel pants because I don't feel I am on the same page. I feel I've jumped back about 10 years and am finding the thought (of getting back into it, fully) so unbelievably daunting that I'm putting it off.

I'm tempted to dip a toe after Josh vacates; to set myself a challenge of spending half an hour lightly flicking through my work, no pressure.

Or, to lock myself away for an afternoon and dive in the deep end?

One thing is for sure: I'm missing the writing terribly.

But not as much as I'll miss that messy boy :(

~ Happy New Year ~

2012-01-01T16:36:00.000Z

May 2012 be happy, healthy and productive for all my blogging chums.

:)

A quick message...

2011-12-23T18:13:00.000Z

I'd just like to say a very Merry Christmas to all who stop by and read the junk I write on a regular basis.

I think you are all lovely.

And possibly mad.

May you and your families enjoy happy and peaceful festivities wherever you are and whatever you are doing.

Kit/Claire xx

NЄш ƒяᴉЄnĐs

2011-12-19T16:35:00.003Z

Never underestimate the power of the list

I was busy making a list just now when my phone went ♫ diddley-doo ♫

I thought it was The Boyfriend, but it wasn't. It was one of the people I work with. To maintain her anonymity, I shall call her: Kayley.

Kayley is delightful. She's a lot younger than me; 21. I haven't been that age for 20 years. She's also what I would call ditsy-verging-on-mad.

She was BBM-ing me (BlackBerry Messenger - Oh, I'm quite with it when it comes to technology now days. Bloody hell, I sound like my mother) to ask if we get paid tomorrow. Now, having known her for just a few weeks, I would say that's fairly typical Kayley.

It was SHE who told ME that we get paid (early) on 20th, this month. She'd heard it from the boss, apparently, but she'd forgotten, so was asking me. I could only tell her what she'd already told me. So we didn't get very far.

Kayley is a breath of fresh air at 5am.

When my alarm goes off at 4am, for about 5 seconds, I wish I was dead. Getting up at that time, in the cold - and sometimes having to de-ice the car - is bloody grim, I can tell you. I stumble around in the near-dark, getting dressed as quickly as possible, hoping to goodness that the de-icer is where I left it (I use The Boyfriend's car as it's more economical but as he's a community psychiatric nurse, he's out and about in his car - in proper waking hours - a lot and MOVES the de-icer... ARGHHHH).

So anything pre-5am is on dodgy ground at this time of year. But once at work, and with Kayley to keep me amused, I really enjoy being out so early. We have a good laugh and a gossip (about the others) and the time really flies. If it wasn't for Kayley, then I wouldn't enjoy it half as much.

Thank you, Kayley, for being ditsy-verging-on-mad. It suits you.

PS. Let's hope we DO get paid tomorrow!

Q: Where have I been...?

2011-12-12T22:08:00.002Z

A: I've been to London, to visit The Queen.

Ok, I haven't. I made that up.

I've actually gone and got a job. Needs must, and all that.

I've been looking for a while. Months, in fact. Moving house, starting a new whirlwind relationship and moving him in, losing Edmund - these things all took energy; emotional energy. Perhaps the Lord-of-all-Jobs decided that I wasn't ready until now.

Either that or the country's falling apart and there are no blinking jobs for anyone.

Oh, yeah.

Anyway, what with Eric being 13, now, and on his own (dogwise), I was looking at something part-time; something 'mindless' that lets me plot and characterise while getting paid, and I found it.

I've become a cleaner. In a school. And I get up at 4am.

Yes, that's right. I HAVE gone mad.

I enjoy ~~being a clean freak~~ cleaning. And I enjoy earning money. Simples.

The school isn't far. The people I work with are ~~good blogging material~~ lovely and I'm home by 7.45 in the morning. How fab is that?!

The Boyfriend has a cup of tea waiting for me, Eric has a little wag for me and 2 slices of marmite on toast go down very well.

The only drawback is that I feel tired much earlier in the day and sometimes need to have a 2-hour sleep - which seems like SUCH a waste of time! Blogging has suffered, my editing has suffered and catching up with friends has, too.

Still, I have only 4 more early starts and then I'm off work until January. I shall recharge my batteries and then watch me go......

EDIT: My header seems to have taken on a life of its own and I have no idea why. I've tried turning it off and on again... but it's stayed the same. Fucking technology.

Chickenpox lollipops? Really?

2011-11-10T16:17:00.000Z

I am not a parent, so forgive me if I seem to have no idea.

But, PLEASE tell me this is simply the Mail being... well... you know.

"Parents are snapping up these lollies at $50 (£31) a piece. Their aim is to expose their young children to the chickenpox virus, because the disease can be more dangerous if caught in later life."

Unconscious Mutterings #458

2011-11-07T19:58:00.001Z

She says, we think...

...the first thing that comes to mind...

Distress :: Spilling orange juice on my keyboard (I just did that).

White lie :: No, honestly, I DID.

Costume :: Jewellery

Stampede :: Elephants

Unappealing :: Marzipan

Idtiot :: Quite

Correction :: Idiot

Resignation :: A bent politician

Insipid :: Gillian McKeith

Celebration :: Gillian McKeith trapped down a well with only a Victoria sponge for company. Ha!

Insecure Writer's Support Group - Not Doing NaNo is Stressing Me

2011-11-02T16:46:00.002Z

Link here: IWSG

Yes, I know it should be the other way around. In theory, I should be saying that DOING NaNo is stressing me.

But it's not like that. At least, that's not how my brain sees it.

I'm one of life's worriers. I don't mean that I necessarily worry over everything. Far from it. But I do worry over such stupid bloody things.

Do people who have to get up at 4am for work REALLY get plenty of sleep? Is it true that we are ALL only ever 2 metres away from a rat? Do we REALLY swallow 6 spiders in our sleep in a life time? Do our feet REALLY produce about a pint of sweat a day and if so, WHERE does that sweat go? What the hell is The Boyfriend going to break next? (It was the curtain rail yesterday), and so on...

Anyway, back to NaNo, or 'not NaNo'.

Lots of my blogging/writing friends ARE doing NaNo this year and I'm worrying because I feel left out. Yes, I know that sounds silly and childish but I don't think(?) I mean it that way.

Reading what they've written so far on Twitter and on their blogs makes me worry that I'm not 'up to it'; that they are all so much better writers than me. I was going to take part this year but I'm massively into my editing (and also trying to find some paid employment which is time consuming) so I chose not to.

But that just makes me feel like I'm somehow weak and unable to cope. THEY are probably into editing, writing novels, writing poetry, working full-time, have 15 children each, feed the homeless 5 times a week, walk 19 dogs, muck out 12 horses daily, home-school their 15 kids, take on extra bar work in the evenings, run a drop-in centre for the bewildered from home and ALL look like Claudia bloody Schiffer.

So if YOU are doing NaNo, I wish you well... but please stop being so bloody organised because it's making me feel insecure!

Maria Zannini - Chain of Souls

2011-10-24T12:46:00.000+01:00

The lovely Maria Zannini (she really IS lovely, if a little mad) is having a book birthday today and I'd like to celebrate it with her - and you, of course.

I won't lie. I haven't read Chain of Souls YET, but I will. I'm going to read The Devil to Pay first. Apparently, it's best to read that one before Chain of Souls... 'so you'll understand where these characters started and how they're changing'.

Read this review by Jackie Burris:

"When read book #1 THE DEVIL TO PAY back in June fell in love once again with the storytelling ability of author Maria Zannini. This time around in book 2 the action is faster, the sexy scenes are steamier and the characters have matured and rounded out their allure for fans of the series. For those who are new to the work of the author you can find all her backlist info on Maria's blog and when you go check out the books pay close attention because this is a series of Novellas and they are fast easy reads that are just as good as the full length novels in her two other series!"

Sounds pretty good to me.

And I LOVE the cover ;)

Unconscious Mutterings #455

2011-10-16T16:56:00.000+01:00

She says, we think...

...The first thing that comes to mind...

Neglected :: Exercise

Sirens :: Wee Wah, Wee Wah

Coordinate :: Map

Mellow :: Marsh

Oscar :: Bravo

Facebook :: Kit/Claire and remembering which account I've signed in to

Whoop :: When I've got the above correct

Affluent :: Effluent

Battle :: Mage

Kisses :: See below - not that I was even alive in 1976, you understand *cough*

Sleepless in Essex

2011-10-13T18:51:00.001+01:00

This morning, I took a picture of this spider.

It's been in its web for several days. The web has been getting bigger and so has the spider. How do I know that? Because every time I go out my kitchen door to go to the bin, I see the bloody thing.

It. Is. Massive.

It's only about an inch from front toes to back toes but it's round and solid - like a stone.

I named it: Hercules.

Hercules is NOT my friend.

I've wished that Hercules would get eaten by one of next door's cats. Or pecked at by a bird. Or flicked by an unruly school child who walked all the way up my drive just to do so.

I HATE spiders.

I wish I hadn't wished.

Today, I had a visit from Paul-the-plumber. He said that he would come and go through the back door rather than walk wet shoes through my hallway to get to my kitchen to check the boiler.

To make things easier for him, I went outside and moved one of the rubbish bins that stands in front of the garden gate. As I did so, I felt a large, wet net stretch across the back of my head.

Yes, the wet net was Hercules' home.

Hercules' WEB.

I ran past Paul-the-plumber, screaming, shaking my head violently and running my fingers through my hair, desperately hoping that Hercules had been out for a walk when I'd 'knocked'. I left Paul-the-plumber to do what he needed to and ran around my living room, shaking my head and raking my fingers through my hair while pulling off my cardigan and checking the back of my jeans and down my bra. (Obviously.)

I expected to hear a noise. You know, the sound a seven-year-old boy makes when he jumps off the top bunk. In Wellies. While carrying a small pony.

That would have been the noise Hercules would have made falling from my person.

There was no noise.

After 30 minutes of running/raking/screaming/searching, I gave up. Exhausted.

Hercules' home is still there... but Hercules isn't.

Only time will tell.

Listen for the screams, readers. Listen for the screams.

HELP!: Critique partner/beta reader needed

2011-10-10T17:16:00.000+01:00

I won't waffle too much as I'm busy. And you're probably busy. We're all busy, let's face it.

The title of this post says it all, really.

If any of my readers/followers would like to consider swapping work on a weekly/fortnightly/monthly basis for critiquing and general feedback then please get in touch by clicking the 'CONTACT' button ^up there^.

I've written a 98,000 word psychological thriller (see 'WIP' ^up there^ for a quick idea of what it's about) and would like a 'second opinion' as I edit it.

I am very happy to do the same in return, of course.

Thank you :)

Happy Holidays

2011-09-13T15:28:00.000+01:00

'Clumsy' up a hill

Hello, again. It's been a while.

I've just got back from holiday and after the last time I came home from being away, I must admit I was a little nervous. I needn't have worried. Eric stayed with my parents so had a lovely little holiday of his own.

I went away for a week, with The Boyfriend, to Ooop North. Mind you, as we're from Dahn Sahf, anything north of Norfolk is northerly. He'd not been north of Leicester before. Weird, eh?

Anyway, we had a lovely time. Mostly.

Since I've known him, I've realised that he is as clumsy ~~as fuck~~. I don't just mean a little bit careless, I mean Oh-my-god-please-not-again type of clumsy.

Foolishly, we went to assorted Houses and Castles while away and I held my breath most of the time. It was a bit like taking an untrained puppy into a posh friend's house. Stressful.

There were displays of beautiful, historical and no doubt priceless items, under glass, that he would lean on - not seeing the "DISPLAY CASE IS ALARMED - PLEASE DO NOT LEAN ON" signs. How did he miss them? How?

In one Stately Home, he found a wibbly floor - the sort where all the floorboards bounce and creak as you walk over them. Everyone else walked past the display cases with care, seeing AND HEARING that the contents were moving due to the floorboards.

Not him.

He walked past, looked at me, grinned, and then walked back and forth, bouncing and creaking as the contents jangled like a set of keys.

The worst moment was when we walked into a small ante-room that had walls covered in vibrant red wallpaper - very OLD wallpaper that said "DO NOT TOUCH" with very OLD, EXPENSIVE-TO-REPLACE curtains that also said "DO NOT TOUCH".

I could see his face. The signs did not register. He brushed the wallpaper (it was a bit like the flocked stuff you get in an Indian restaurant - the stuff that makes you want to touch it) and then he swooped the curtains back to see what was behind them.

Oh. My. God. I. Nearly. Killed. Him. With. My. Look.

All I could do was turn around and walk out. The embarrassment.

Still, other than that, we had a lovely time but I've decided it'll be beach holidays from now on. Far less stress.

Eric was delighted to see us and we brought him home and gave him the soft bone-like treat we'd bought him. He took it and then 'sang' his way around the house and garden for about 10 minutes, in sheer delight, until he found a comfy spot to settle and eat it. Happy days.

Looking for somewhere comfy

Happy to be home

My name's Kit Courteney and I'm 41

2011-08-28T14:18:00.000+01:00

I meant to post about this a couple of weeks ago but I forgot.

My memory is terrible.

Is it normal for memory to be so bad by the time one hits their 40s? Actually, my memory has been bad for over 10 years.

I don't just mean that I'm 'a bit forgetful', I mean that my memory is REALLY bad. Not for everything. I know the 16 digit number on my debit card without looking at it. I know my National Insurance number without checking it. And I can remember the number plates of the 2 cars my dad hired when I was a child to go on holiday to the south coast (VLK 740S, MLL 842V). (Although, why I know that is beyond me.)

I can't, however, remember the simplest things that I've been told from one day to the next. I rarely remember the ending of a film I've seen once or TWICE before and I daren't stop and ask for directions if out driving as I'd never remember past: 'Go straight down to the end of this road and then turn...'

I'm putting it down to age.

Anyway, to add insult to injury, I had my 2 yearly check at the new optician's in town the other week and was told I need READING GLASSES. Sheesh. I thought I'd be at least 70 before I needed to wear THEM.

Rightly enough, I can see better with them for close-up work.

Now I've just got to remember where I put them.

White coat syndrome and quiet apes

2011-08-25T16:26:00.000+01:00

I went to see Rise of the Planet of the Apes last week with The Boyfriend and The Boyfriend's Daughter.

It was BRILLIANT!

Great story. Great acting. Great company.

Sounds ideal, doesn't it? Well, it wasn't.

Let me tell you why.

Before I moved, I was registered with what can only be described as a bit-of-a-shit-GP. To be fair, it wasn't just one GP, it was about 50 million as there were always locums available rather than the regular practice doctors. It seems that the regular doctors were off playing golf most days. I had nothing against the locums - other than the fact that one could never see the same doctor twice and that many seemed unable to grasp anything other than very basic English.

The last one I saw coughed all over me while looking in my ears. Nice.

Anyway, the 2 or 3 I saw the last 2 or 3 times I went there told me that I might have high blood pressure.

Might?

The readings were on the high side so I was asked to 'come back in a month'. I did. It was high again so was asked to 'come back in 3 months' time'. I did. It was high again...

Then I moved and changed doctors.

I went for the MOT they make you go through when you join a new practice and lo... my blood pressure was high.

The nurse asked me lots of questions and said she thought I may have 'white coat syndrome'. I went on a short waiting list and then, last week, I was 'fitted' with a 24-hour blood pressure cuff.

I must admit, it was the bane of my life for those 24 hours. It was very uncomfortable. It took my blood pressure every 30 minutes until 11pm when it took it every hour until 7am when it went back to every 30 minutes.

I've always found having my blood pressure taken quite painful rather than just uncomfortable and the same thing went for this bloody agonising half hourly measurement.

Every 30 minutes the 'little' battery pack (which was in a bag over my shoulder) would start up, whirring away and then the cuff on my arm would inflate. I'd been told to keep my arm completely still while it was happening or it would fail and have to start again. Unfortunately, when driving, it is often impossible to keep your BLOODY ARM COMPLETELY STILL - so I had several 're-takes' throughout the 24 hours. (And 2 bruises!)

The Boyfriend and I had not given any real thought to the implications of me being in this situation (although WHY THE FECK it hadn't dawned on him how bloody inconvenient it would be I have no idea as he's a nurse!!) so we booked cinema tickets for that night.

You can see where I'm going with this, no?

Oh, yes. Sitting in the cinema, between The Boyfriend and The Boyfriend's Teenage Daughter (so that my stationary, straight arm wouldn't cause anyone else any inconvenience) I was a little apprehensive as the battery pack made quite a noise when it started whirring away.

I just hoped that the film would be suitably noisy.

Mostly, it was.

But there were 2 less noisy moments. Moments where you could have heard a pin drop.

...Or a battery pack whir into life.

TWICE, my companions turned to look at me as if I'd not heard it myself, ensuring that anyone behind us would know that the thunder erupting about my person was, indeed, emanating from row C, seat 12.

I found the whole process very stressful.

Yesterday, I had to go back to find out the results. My new GP is lovely and had a very pleasant trainee with him. I told them about the cinema and they both laughed. Not just a polite little laugh, a real laugh-out-loud bellow. Apparently, most people do very little when they are being monitored.

Most people have the right idea.

My GP leaned across to look at the screen and asked if I'd been at the cinema between 8.15 and 10.15. I had. He showed me the results - the readings between those times were comically skewed across the screen.

Thankfully, all the other readings were completely normal, so it's a happy ending. Turns out I have white coat syndrome. No high blood pressure for me!

The End

What are those Words Worth?

2011-08-09T15:32:00.000+01:00

I'm not going to say too much about this as I know someone else who's got it down to a fine art.

That someone is Jacob Teal.

I do not know Jacob, but I'm supporting him in his venture. I do not know Jacob's father, either, but he has a very nice blog here, which is where I read about what Jacob is trying to do.

It may sound twee to some, but I genuinely think that teenagers and young adults should be encouraged in ALL things positive, especially after the appalling behaviour we've seen in our cities over the past few nights. The report I've highlighted tells of children as young as EIGHT "...fleeing shops with games consoles...". Eight!

Enough of that... It makes me mad just thinking about it without seeing all the devastation those violent thugs have caused. Thank goodness for the Jacob Teals in the world!

PS. Mine is 'margin'... seeing as I spend a great deal of time writing in the margins, it seemed wonderfully appropriate :)

#7 Fleetwood Mac "the Dance" TUSK

2011-07-29T17:25:00.001+01:00

Please see #7 of last post :)

Award & 7 very interesting cough things about me

2011-07-29T17:21:00.000+01:00

Thanks to the lovely Kathleen, I've got me an award. Now, it's been a while since I've had one of these, but I've written a little speech, if you'll excuse me...

I'd like to thank my parents for always being there, my sister for taking the piss out of me when we were children and the old lady in the sweet shop who was too blind to see me stealing that time.

Ok, maybe not.

Apparently, I now have to bore you all with 7 things about me. Oh, you lucky lot :p

I'm not going to tag anyone else. I've tagged dozens before and as everyone seems so busy right now, please join in only if you want to... but share the link if you do so I can be nosey :)

1. I HATE sport.

Really, I absolutely detest it. I am filled with nothing but dread with the craplympics coming up next year. Why did London have to 'get' it??? Eh??? All we have on TV/radio now is 'One year to go!' Not happy. *Grumpy face* Too much sport!

It's bad enough that The Boyfriend is the world's biggest Manchester City fan EVER. If I'd known that when I met him... well... who knows! I've had to compromise a bit. There are only so many times he can be sent down the garden to watch a match on his laptop in the rain.

2. I LOVE white chocolate, but it HAS to be Milky Bar.

If it's not, then don't bother bringing it near me!

3. I'm good at falling over in the snow.

Some years ago, my sister and I went for a walk in the snow. We were going to see my grandparents and check they were all right after a particularly heavy snowfall. I may add that we were around 15 and 16 years of age and still at that 'Oh my God, please don't let me fall over in front of other people' stage. Do I need to continue?

I got wrapped up. Very wrapped up: 2 pairs of socks, 2 pairs of tights, vest top, t-shirt, shirt, jeans, 2 jumpers, coat, boots, assorted scarves, gloves and a bobble hat. My sister wore (I find this hard to believe, even now) cotton trousers, a long-sleeved top, 1 pair of socks, a light-weight jacket and SHOES!

Now, I'll admit, I am a little bit bossy at times and I moaned and moaned at her to get wrapped up properly or she'd regret it, and I, as the eldest, certainly knew best.

Why wouldn't she listen to me? I did know best!

So I carried on moaning and telling her she was silly until I put my foot down in the snow and somehow lost my balance.

Because I was so very wrapped up, I didn't seem to bend very well and rather than trip and stumble like any normal person, I fell somewhat like a tree being cut down in its prime.

To add insult to injury I didn't manage to get my hands out of my pockets in time (well, hands will get cold, even with gloves on, so it's better to be safe than sorry) which meant I fell FACE FIRST into the snow.

Oh, how she laughed.

I don't know if there was anyone else to witness my embarrassment... I could hardly stand - what with the lack of bending I was able to do, so other people watching was the last of my worries.

When we got to our destination, my ~~poxy~~ sister told my grandparents, who laughed. And once we were home, she told my parents, who laughed. And then, forever more, she has delighted in telling EVERYONE she has met...but only when I've been there to laugh at. For some reason, people find it funny.

I'm sure I don't know why.

4. I have some great blogging friends.

I've met some wonderful people through blogging. I'm in touch with a few by email and I'm so glad I am. I'd never have met them otherwise and that would have been a shame. They'll know who they are if they read this post. ~~Mind you, each is as mad as a box of frogs~~. *smiles sweetly*

5. I've recently joined a critique group.

Kathleen, the lovely lady who gave me this award, is a member and she is bloody amazing at critiquing. I'm now looking at my work, thinking: I hate passive sentences!

6. I LOVE Edward Monkton.

My sister bought me a card a few years ago and it rather sums us her up. It makes me laugh every time I read it. (I have it pinned to my pinboard for ease of laughingness.)

A serious face is needed for the last one...

7. I miss Edmund. But music helps.

If you read my last 2 posts, you'll know that I had to have my little dog put to sleep 2 weeks ago. I miss him terribly. He was such a barmpot and his character totally filled the house. Having Eric here is lovely though... but very quiet!

Once I knew that there would, indeed, be a 'final trip' in the car and that I'd be coming home On My Own, I made sure I had a pretty amazing CD in the car, ready. Otherwise the journey would have been unbearable on my own.

I chose a song in particular that was more uplifting than a gale-force wind. It did the trick. It filled me with positive thoughts about the wonderful life he'd had and also allowed me to have a good cry and a wail without disturbing anyone else. (Ok, so it was different at traffic lights. I apologise to those who pulled up beside me, music blaring - windows were closed but it was rather loud - to witness a 40 year old woman, 'singing' along to the song on repeat with mascara streaming down her face.)

I've found it on You Tube but I think I have to post it on it's own so I shall attempt to do so for the next post.

Volume up :)

Thank you

2011-07-15T11:42:00.000+01:00

Edmund (left) and Eric

I'd just like to say 'thank you' to everyone who left a comment on my last post, and for your messages on Twitter, Facebook, email and by text.

When I got back from my holiday on Saturday I was shocked to find Edmund looking so unwell. He'd been off his food a bit for about 2 weeks but as he and Eric were staying with my parents, I thought he'd perk up. I thought he was off his food because it had been so warm and he's never been keen on too much heat. I also thought that his arthritis was affecting him, but I wasn't unduly worried.

He did, indeed, seem to perk up a bit but wasn't eating enough to sustain his weight.

I took him to the vet on Sunday morning and she immediately diagnosed liver failure - probably caused by a tumour. His liver was 'very large', although she said that he didn't seem to be in any discomfort as she poked and prodded.

She made it quite clear that he would not get better. They could prolong his life for perhaps a few months by performing a number of procedures and dosing him up on medication. She also made it clear that the kindest thing to do would be to let him go.

It wasn't a difficult decision.

So that he could have a few happy days at home, she gave him a steroid injection and an antibiotic and some 'liver powder' capsules that he was to have each day.

Once home, he perked up a lot. He got some of his appetite back and although he wouldn't touch dog food, he thoroughly enjoyed ham, sausages, beef slices, chocolate biscuits, cheese, McDonald's chicken and his last meal, Wednesday night, was spaghetti bolognese cooked by me.

To an animal lover, this sounds horrendous! I've never fed him this sort of food, but the vet said he needed to eat to take the capsules - and to be honest, none of it was going to do him any harm at this stage.

These few days enabled everyone who loved him to come to terms with what was going to happen.

Yesterday morning, he had his last trip in my car and was peacefully put to sleep. It was very dignified and entirely befitting an amazing little dog who lit up so many lives in his 12 years.

I'm now left with... well... the 'thick' one. My Eric.

Eric does not seem to be the least bit affected. Perhaps, in time, he will miss his brother, but I do hope not. I like that he's thick.

He's happy and long may he continue to be. Edmund wouldn't want it any other way.

My Eric

RIP Edmund

2011-07-14T12:07:00.000+01:00

12/11/98 - 14/07/11

Off dis ting

2011-07-01T16:12:00.000+01:00

I'm off on my holidays tomorrow, for a whole week of relaxation and exploring.

I've never been to this part of the UK for a holiday before but am thoroughly looking forward to it.

Have a good week, everyone :)

Spring clean

2011-06-26T20:37:00.000+01:00

Ok, so I did have a bit of a change round.

Can you see a difference?

All change? Some change? Not sure...?

2011-06-23T16:51:00.000+01:00

If you notice any changes to my blog over the next few days it's because I've got the that's-not-good-enough fairies in and they're trying to get me to change things - maybe. Haven't decided yet.

Only tinkering will tell.

Until then...

Kit Courteney what...?

2011-06-20T15:59:00.000+01:00

Ok, so I couldn't resist the wonderful little fridge magnets that jumped out at me at the local cheap shop over the weekend.

I spent most of the weekend making as many words criss-cross over each other as possible.

This is what I hope Heaven consists of (if there's such a thing, which, if it's full of little magnetic letters and a giant fridge door, I'm bloody well hoping it does).

I can't say I was terribly creative, but oh my goodness, it was fun.

Anyway, I REALLY must stop having this sort of fun... I've got a novel to finish...

Brief and shallow, but I...

2011-06-17T17:36:00.000+01:00

...can't help it, I'm afraid.

Do you think she's had 'work' done...???

Story here.

Have a great weekend :)

Well...?

2011-06-13T17:01:00.000+01:00

I've been trying, since Saturday, to post on Blogger and every bloody time I think I have, it buggers up and goes pop.

I wrote a cracking post and the whole bloody thing disappeared. It was this blog's 'blogoversary' yesterday - 3 years.

Very annoyed.

Die, Blogger, die!

Feck, feck, feckity, feck.

If this gets posted I'll be even more bloody annoyed as I'm writing shite just to prove to myself that piddling Blogger is piddling broken.

Arse.

Can't put a link in.

Can't put a picture in.

And it won't save when I click 'save now'.

Will it post? Will it? Will it?

Wordless Wednesday

2011-06-08T23:00:00.002+01:00

Bloody brilliant.

Ok, it was ALMOST wordless.

Playing catch up

2011-06-06T18:18:00.000+01:00

Just after my last blog post, I received a comment that made me think 'Bloody idiots', so I half vowed (to myself) that I'd give blogging a break for a while.

The comment was:

Express gratitude wrist watches key points wonderful criticize; this is revolutions per minute rating actions of the fact that makes others however out of daylight hours. I have completely long term come seek at your web-site right after the recognized that relates to majority of these from your local neighborhood great comrade moreover already been pleased I’d what food was in the list to get this tool good shortly after looking for temporary.

Ok, so it's quite amusing, now.

I just wonder how many people get comments like that, publish them, click the link, read what they see and then BUY something they didn't want.

Very few I am guessing, so why do non-English speakers bombard us with this shit? I say non-English speakers because I've only ever had 'foreign' spam, badly translated, like this, or in their own bloody language.

Bloody idiots.

Enough of that.

On my brief holiday from blogging, I dipped my toe, no, I jumped in the deep end with my editing - AT LAST. Oh, my goodness, I am back to loving it and having huge enthusiasm for it. I started reading from the beginning to get a proper feel for it and I've realised there are a few things I really, truly, desperately need to change; big, important things, as it happens, sooooooo... I've taken the decision to restart my final draft now that I have 'stopped flaffing' as my sister would say.

I deleted my old word count and have a new one in place. As you can see - it's VERY early days - but I've peeled the apple now, so I'd best get on with it, before it goes brown and smells bad.

I've got a way with words, me :)

I've not been reading blogs while I've been grouchy about old shit-for-brains with his great comrade moreover already been pleased, so I shall try to catch up over the next week or so...editing willing :D

Barra Strand jumps into crowd

2011-05-06T16:30:00.000+01:00

This is SO wrong...

For story, please click here.

Z...is for... Oh, it's been done before

2011-05-01T14:53:00.000+01:00

I didn't post yesterday as I had a migraine (boo, hiss, go away nasty migraine).

But while I was feeling poorly, I decided that my Z post would be 'Z... is for Ze End'.

Unfortunately for me, coming to the last post of the A-Z Challenge a day late meant that I was able to see (on my dashboard, when I signed in) what other people had chosen for their Zs.

And a fair few got there first.

Darn it!

So I have no Z title... only the post associated with it. I could be clever and think of something else, but my migraine hasn't gone yet... so I'm half-brained and squinting at the screen... Nice image, no?

The lovely Thelma over at WidowSphere: A Circle of Hope got there before me, too, but not with the Z title; with the idea for her Z post.

Thelma has visited all 1,282 A-Z blogs (she either needs a medal or a large G & T!) and picked 26 of the blogs she really enjoyed. Mine was one of the 26, so thank you, Thelma!

My idea was to pick my 3 favourite A-Z bloggers. I only managed to get to about 150 of them so fairly pathetic compared with Thelma!

My favourites

1. I came to Thelma's blog very late in proceedings, but it's a lovely one and one I shall read regularly.

2. Eliza at Just Twaddle. Completely bonkers but lovely with it.

3. Lea at Wanton Redhead Writing. Intelligent writing in a funny way. Or, funny writing in an intelligent way. Actually, it's both. Take a look and tell me I'm wrong. Go on, dare ya.

I've really enjoyed the A-Z Challenge. It's made me write every day (or nearly every day if you discount migraines, naughty computers and stupidly busy days) and has pushed me to write about all sorts of things I wouldn't normally have written about.

I think 'C' was the one I had most fun with. And 'I' made me most bloody livid.

Off, now, to take some tablets and lay in a dark room... Zzzzzzz...

Y...is for Yay! The worms have moved in!

2011-04-29T17:54:00.000+01:00

I've spent most of the day weeding the garden and preparing my wormery (see last post).

I don't know if you can see, but in this picture there are hundreds of 5p pieces which have turned a wonderful verdigris as they've been scattered on the stony 'flower' bed in my garden where I've decided to keep my wormery. They were obviously thrown there for some reason a while ago - before I moved in. I started to pick them up so that I could throw them away but there were so many that I gave up.

The whole bed is covered in them and they look so pretty... if a little unusual.

I've sorted my wormery out now and my worms are happily moved in.

Z tomorrow. Now WHAT can I write for Z...?

X...is for X-tatic

2011-04-29T10:14:00.000+01:00

Yes, I know 'X-tatic' is poor but I couldn't resist it.

For those who saw my post for W and didn't understand it, I have a wormery in my garden.

The worms did not fare well when I moved house - I lost a rain cover for the lid and 'neglected' them while I was trying to get everything unpacked etc.

The other day I dismantled the wormery and found only a couple of live worms so I am going to clean it up - yes, they like it clean - and start again.

My new worms have arrived so over this Bank Holiday we are having (wedding? what wedding? worms, yes, wedding, no) I am going to get my hands dirty and can't wait to get my new worms settled and happy.

More pics to follow...

W...is for Wordless Wednesday

2011-04-27T21:22:00.001+01:00

V...is for Virginia Andrews

2011-04-27T09:08:00.000+01:00

My V was going to stand for Very Stupid Ginger Cat... But I didn't have time to get a picture of said very stupid ginger cat who was sitting in one of my fruit trees watching the world go by while my dogs mooched about the garden, completely oblivious.

Ok, so maybe that should have been: Very Stupid Dogs.

Instead, I've gone for Virginia Andrews.

Now, I must admit, I don't know much about her other than I think she died in the late 80s or early 90s. This post is more about her writing.

Ah, right. Having just found a link to add to her name, I can see that she died in 1986 which would have been when I started reading Flowers in the Attic. I fell in love with the Dollanganger Series which was written between 1979-1986 and had me hooked from the first few pages!

As you can see from the photo, my copy has been read many times by several people over the years. I think I've read it 2 or 3 times which is unusual for me. I don't normally read a book twice unless it's REALLY bloody brilliant.

Flowers in the Attic is about 4 children, siblings, who are hidden away in an attic. They have what can only be described as an evil-as-feck grandmother who will go to almost any end to keep them hidden and shockingly unhappy in the process. Their mother chose to bring them to the grandmother's house when their father died suddenly and knows they're locked away but doesn't do anything about it. She could be described as evil too, eh?

The children are a product of incest. Their mother and father were half-uncle and niece. This theme is continued throughout the book. It sounds a bit weird put starkly, like this, but it makes more sense once in context.

The children manage to escape eventually but what follows is just as harrowing.

The story continues in Petals on the Wind, If There Be Thorns, Seeds of Yesterday and Garden of Shadows (written last) which tells of the evil-as-feck grandmother's upbringing and years up to the arrival of the children at her home.

Of course, having plucked the book from my bookshelves I now want to re-read the entire series.

W, X, Y and Z may just have to wait ;)

U...is for Unconscious mutterings - 430

2011-04-25T09:33:00.001+01:00

She says, we think...

Squid :: And chips
Wife :: Marriage
Promising :: Everything
Tingle :: Pins and needles
Off balance :: Dizzy
Nice :: Ice
Honor :: Blackman (an English actress)
Emphatic :: Speech
Siren :: Mythology
Plated :: Gold

T...is for T'pau

2011-04-25T09:20:00.002+01:00

A real blast from my past :)

S...is for Seraquin

2011-04-25T09:01:00.000+01:00

This stuff is amazing!

My 12 year old dogs have arthritis and if they weren't on this joint supplement - the tablets contain glucosamine, chondroitin and turmeric extract - they wouldn't be the happy, jumping, spinning little monsters that they are.

They have their moments where they'll spin a bit much and then they have a sit down for a while, but mostly, there is a good balance between activity and joint happiness.

I was sceptical at first because it is not a medication that needs a prescription. I thought it was 'happy clappy' stuff that dog owners paid for and believed that it was working without actually seeing the evidence.

But I was wrong.

It's bloody fantastic.

P and R...are for Patrick Redmond

2011-04-21T19:05:00.000+01:00

For anyone taking note, I missed out P so that I could glue it to R... sorry Q. You got squeezed out.

The Puppet Show by Patrick Redmond is my most favouritest booky wook of all time.

I'm not saying it's a classic, or that it will be. It has its faults (although I can't think of any at the moment to be honest) but my goodness, it's a thumping good read!

I've read it twice and since getting it out of my bookcase to photograph, I've decided to read it again.

I'd hate to give too much away in case anyone wishes to read it, but the gist is thus:

Michael is a promising young thing. He had a terrible childhood but is now forging a decent legal career. His fiancee, Rebecca, loves him and together they make a happy and successful young couple.

When a father figure, a most powerful man, enters their lives and takes Michael under his wing, things in Michael's life start to unravel at an alarming rate.

It's a psychological thriller about love, control and dependence and I bloody loved it.

Incidentally, Patrick Redmond's The Wishing Game was very good, too :)

Q...is for Quote

2011-04-21T16:50:00.000+01:00

Those familiar with my blog may recognise the following quote:

"Be regular and orderly in your life so that you may be violent and original in your work."

This is a quote by Gustave Flaubert.

I read this quote many years ago and it jumped out at me for a couple of reasons. Firstly, I just love the thought of being regular and orderly in my life. With an initial glance I am extremely orderly. I like things to be tidy. My home is tidy. My desk is tidy. My garden is tidy. My car is tidy.

I just AM tidy.

But if you open a drawer or a cupboard there is a chance that the contents will spill out and never be wedged back inside. Don't get me wrong, the items in the drawer or cupboard will be well organised - a drawer full of pens (oh yes!!) will be a drawer full of pens and nothing else. But, by jiminy, if you try to find one in particular, you'll be looking all day.

So although I'm orderly in a 'surface' way, I'm quite disorganised underneath it all.

But in an orderly way.

Obviously.

Secondly, I love the idea of being 'violent' in my work.

Ok, so that's not what you want to hear a nurse or a teacher say, but for us creative types, we are 'allowed' to be wild and daring and positively murderous in our work. Such fun.

So, thank you, Monsieur Flaubert for putting into words such a lovely state of consciousness.

EDIT: For those who clicked on the Wikipedia link, please tell me you read: "He had intercourse with a 14-year-old Marmite boy in 1850."

O...is for Ouch

2011-04-18T20:54:00.000+01:00

I have Plantar fasciitis and right now it is agony.

I was going to post about something far more interesting today, but all I keep saying to myself is 'Ouch'.

Something more interesting tomorrow :D

N...is for Name Generators

2011-04-16T19:05:00.000+01:00

I've got a bit of a thing about names.

As a child, I used to make lists of favourite names. Top of the 'BOYS' was Damien and top of the 'GIRLS' was Elizabeth. This was back in the mid 80s when I was about 13ish. Sarah and Rebecca were favouites, too.

I was a strange teenager.

Anyway, one of the things I love when creating characters is choosing names. Heavenly.

I don't write fantasy, but if I did, I'd use one of the name generators that you can come across by the gazillion on t'interweb. There's something rather indulgent (to me) about typing in my name and seeing what I'd be called in Fairyville, Vampireville, Star Warsville, etc.

Give it a go...

The Elvish Name Generator

The Vampire Name Generator

The Hobbit Name Generator

The Fairy Name Generator

The Witch Name Generator

Random Name Generator

M...is for Madness

2011-04-15T16:13:00.001+01:00

Surely?

L...is for Laughing

2011-04-14T08:29:00.000+01:00

K...is for Kaleidoscope

2011-04-13T07:54:00.000+01:00

Oh, how I loved my old kaleidoscope when I were a lass.

Ok, that's not a sentence I thought I'd ever write, but it's true.

Mine didn't look like this one, although I think this looks rather lovely. Mine was made of tin(?) I think and may have developed some rusty patches at some point. It wasn't a soft and cuddly kaleidoscope, more of a should-you-be-giving-this-to-a-child? type of toy LIKE WE USED TO HAVE IN THE 70s!

And it never did us any harm, did it?

J...is for Jee-nee-us

2011-04-12T17:21:00.000+01:00

Pups at approx 10-12 weeks

I moved house on 5th February, this year.

Today is 12th April.

It's taken all this time for my 12-year-old dogs to realise that if the back door (off the kitchen) is closed then they can still get out the patio doors in the livingroom (if they're open).

I have instilled into them that after their dinner, they go straight outside. So far while living here I've had to open the back door for them OR walk them out of the kitchen, down the hall, into the livingroom and out the patio doors.

Today they worked it out for themselves!

I'm having a *proud* moment ;D

Jason Maguire - animal abuser??

2011-04-11T10:01:00.000+01:00

Nasty little shit

Edit to yesterday's post:

After I'd written yesterday's post, I heard that the so-called winner - some revolting little man called Jason Maguire - had been banned for FIVE days for excessive use of the whip.

"The stewards said Maguire's use of his whip was excessive, a ruling which leapt beyond its usual implications when you remembered that the jockey slid from his mount in the moment of triumph and that the training staff's efforts to fight severe dehydration and exhaustion began in an unprecedented frenzy."

For the rest of this story, please see:

James Lawton: Now we see the real use of the whip – to drive a horse past endurance .

Incidentally, it seems he's done this before.

Grand National - DISGUSTING

2011-04-10T08:12:00.002+01:00

Dooneys Gate, who died after falling

I...is for Incandescent.

I realise 'I' is a day early, but I wanted to write it now rather than tomorrow.

I am absolutely fucking livid that the barbaric 'Grand' National is allowed to continue.

When I was a child I remember hearing about horses that had been injured and KILLED in the name of a race and couldn't understand it.

I'm 40 years old, now, and I STILL can't understand the cruelty.

Quite apart from the whole death thing, why the fuck do those silly little men beat the horses with a stick while they're running?

Is it that they're not going fast enough? That the revolting brightly-coloured little squirts think they should go even faster?

In my book, that is animal cruelty. Don't tell me that the horses don't feel it. THAT would be a silly thing to say.

Now, down to the deaths.

"Two horses died during yesterday’s Grand National in one of the most ‘distressing’ races in recent history.

Millions of TV viewers saw Ornais fall at the fourth fence, breaking his neck, while Dooneys Gate broke his back minutes later at Becher’s Brook.
It meant that for the first time in the race’s history the two fences were bypassed during the second circuit of the Aintree track – as the horses were hastily screened off with tarpaulins." Daily Mail

It's not right.

There have, apparently, been modifications to some of the fences (at Aintree) and there is now a more comprehensive veterinary system... but that didn't stop 2 horses being killed yesterday, did it?

40 horses started the race. Only 19 finished it!

No one, NO ONE, who claims to be an animal lover would put a bet on this race, surely?

"Julian Thick, managing director of Aintree Racecourse, said: ‘We are desperately sad at the accidents and our thoughts go out to the connections of Ornais and Dooneys Gate. When a horse gets hurt, everyone is deeply upset. Safety is the first priority for the organisers of the Grand National meeting and we will redouble our efforts to make sure that everyone involved in the event is able to participate in safety and comfort. Horseracing is a carefully regulated and monitored sport. All horses and riders in the Grand National have to meet very high standards set by an independent panel of experts.’"

No, Mr Thick, what you've said here is not good enough! Safety for the horses is NOT your first priority. Some of the fences are fucking dangerous which is WHY some of these poor horses who are beaten around the track by a moron on their back fail to get over them SAFELY! They DIE.

"...everyone involved in the event is able to participate in safety and comfort"? That's the human beings you're talking about. I'm more concerned with the horses to be honest. The humans know what they're letting themselves in for. Those ridiculous little men CHOOSE to get on the back of a horse and beat it to make it go faster. If they fall off, so what?

If those wanky little riders were breaking their necks, their backs and dying of heart attacks at a rate of around 3 per year at that particular 3-day meeting, THEN there would be something done.

Grand National, you bring shame on the UK.

H...is for Haitch

2011-04-09T15:12:00.000+01:00

Ha ha...

No, it's not.

Couldn't resist that.

It's actually one of the things that drives me to distraction: when people say 'H' as 'haitch'.

Grrrrr....

Right... Back to the gardening for me.

G...is for Garden

2011-04-08T18:54:00.003+01:00

I love mine... but it needs some SERIOUS tending this weekend!

Pansies in a pot

Bluebells in a shady patch

On a tree...I don't know what it is though

Holly tree

Following the path

Beautiful blossom

This is what I see from my kitchen window

No weird neighbours - bungalows only!

I stood in the middle of the garden and looked up

Through the trees

Enjoy your weekend :)

F...is for Followers

2011-04-07T15:34:00.003+01:00

This morning I realised I now have 100 followers.

Go me.

My 100th is Lea.

Thank you, Lea :)

When the Followers Widget first became available I was terrified to put it onto my blog in case no one wanted to follow me.

I was a bit of a coward really. In order to not sit and worry that I'd be 'lonely' in blogland, I added the widget the day before I went on holiday.

When I got back, I had 4 followers and I was delighted! Although new followers seem to appear in order now, they didn't to start with (well, not for me, anyway).

My 4 followers were (in order):

Kel - American (she can't help it), very funny, potty mouth.

Addy - Claims she is 50... but she is SO not!

Jane - Often bonkers, laugh out loud funny, good at English innit, a good friend.

Lori - Writes with such passion, a genuinely thoughtful and lovely lady.

Granted, I had those 4 followers, alone, for MONTHS, but I didn't care because little old me had FOUR followers!

Thank you, ladies, for making me feel less lonely on planet blog :)

E...is for Easter Eggs

2011-04-06T18:54:00.000+01:00

It was going to be Editing.

And then Elephants.

After that it was going to be Editing again.

And then Explorer (as in IE9).

But now it's Easter Eggs.

Just because they're so divine!

D...is for Daphne

2011-04-05T19:47:00.008+01:00

I was about 8 and a half here.

Happy days.

Eight and a half?!?!?!?!

I'd gone through the entire Secret Seven series about 5 times, the entire Famous Five series twice that, and was working through:

Malory Towers - Darrell Rivers (a girl) was totally adorable to an innocent, young, awe-struck girl from Southend. She was SO amazing.

St. Clare's - Ok, so it wasn't 'St. Claire's'... well, we can't have everything ;)

and Trebizon at a rate of knots.

Other than Trebizon, they were all written by the 100% wonderful Enid Blyton.

Anyway, believe it or not, the point of this 'D' was that reading all these books filled me with writerly-ness.

Hmmm... maybe some of you are wondering what I'm talking about.

Who can blame you.

I mostly blog about pants.

Not PANTS as such... but about anything other than writing.

Well, there are a number of reasons for that, but at this time, it's really not important.

For me, blogging is a writing prompt. This A-Z malarky is pushing me greatly. I'm a creature of habit, and for the last two and a half years I've blogged maybe twice a week, maximum. There have been the odd weeks where I've posted 3 times or more. But as a rule, I blog once or twice a week.

It suits me.

I'm now 'having' to do it 6 times a week (throughout April).

Having just moved and having lived out of boxes for longer than I've enjoyed, I am now (just about) ready to get back to my editing (the fact that starts with an 'E' fills me with dread seeing as tomorrow is 'E'!) and then to some 'proper' writing (woo hoo!).

A year or two after that picture of me was taken, I wrote about 'Nurse Daphne Peachbloom'.

At school, we were told to write about a person we had imagined. I believe we only had to write 200 words. (Urghhhhh!)

I wrote about a middle-aged nurse who had a cat and who loved her job. I described what she wore, how she got to work and who her best friend was.

And then I ran out of my word limit. I wanted to write 2,000 words about Daphne, but wasn't allowed.

I remember being devastated.

I wanted to tell the world about her.

She was a marvel.

I'm not sure how, but that's not the point. She was wonderful. She was my first proper creation.

And I loved her.

This was all back in about 1979 when I was 9 years old.

I'm not sure how old Daphne would be now... maybe 80? 'She' was a great influence in my life as I got top marks for this particular assignment. I also realised that writing was my 'thing'.

The combination of reading about boarding school high-jinks while writing about a middle-aged, cat loving nurse seemed to trigger something in me.

May you have had a wonderful life, Nurse Daphne Peachbloom :)

C...is for Claire

2011-04-04T17:09:00.000+01:00

I've been trying to think of something amusing to say about 'C', but I'm afraid I can't think of anything.

<<< If 'C' had fallen on (Wordless) Wednesday I'd have left it at title and picture.

But it didn't...

My REAL first name is Claire.

Kit was my grandmother's name. That's not true. Her name was Kathleen but she was known as Kit.

When I started blogging I decided to use her name as it sounded far cooler than Claire. Not that I don't like my name. I think it's a lovely name. But 'Kit' has more of an edge.

Only 3 blogging friends know I'm really Claire. Two of them use different names themselves, and I have to admit that I find it very confusing. You get used to thinking of someone as 'Bill' and when it turns out their name is 'Marmaduke' you still think of them as Bill.

You find yourself writing 'Hi Bill', and then going back and deleting for fear of looking like a right plank. I'd imagine it's a bit like addressing a soap star as their character name rather than their real name. You know which is which, but instinct takes over and you call them by the most familiar name.

When I took the picture above, I got a bit carried away.

My best 'Essex' look

Mid-afternoon (and too much coffee) madness

Anyway, don't be confused. I'm still Kit.

Or Claire :D

B...is for bacon flavoured crisps

2011-04-02T14:21:00.000+01:00

...are just what the doctor ordered when I have a migraine.

Come to think of it, I could eat these every day - they are just so yummy.

I'm not a big fan of bacon but the thing with crisps is that the flavour is very different to the real thing.

I love cheese and onion crisps but don't like cheese or onions most of the time.

I can't quite believe I've just posted about crisps.

A...is for Arse

2011-04-02T13:38:00.000+01:00

Please see full details in my side bar >>>
I read about the A-Z Challenge a while ago and made a mental note to start it on the right day.

Yesterday.

And then completely forgot.

So I'm posting two entries today.

When I realised that I'd missed the first day, I said: 'Oh, arses.' I swear too much. Granted, 'arse' isn't the worst word in the world, but it's a slippery slope.

I'm going to limit myself to one swear word a day, I've decided.

And if I can't bloody-well fecking do it then I'm the biggest arse going.

Migraine, bloody migraine

2011-04-02T12:54:00.000+01:00

I bought a new car this week.

It's lovely!

But I've had a migraine since, so I've only been out in it once.

Got to go - looking at the screen is not helping.

EDIT: For eagle-eyed readers, I'm fully taxed now :)

Home Sweet Home #2

2011-03-22T21:40:00.000Z

Well, after a tricky old business with no/iffy broadband, I am finally (properly) back in Blogland.

Having said that, it's gone 9pm and I am knackered, so this will only be a short post. I have spent a great deal of the past 2 months making flat-pack furniture and emptying boxes since moving.

Glamorous, huh?

I am now a whizz with a screwdriver, a treat with a tape measure and a demon with a drill :D

I also ache in places I didn't bloody know existed.

As mentioned before, my new neighbours are just lovely. After the bonkers paranoia of my last lot, it's a dream! No more weirdness over parking spaces that the oaf one side had such a problem with. Is it REALLY that difficult to park between white lines in allocated spaces??? Apparently so! Where I was before had a joint courtyard for parking - with defined spaces. The idiot one side really did think he owned the entire area and enjoyed parking awkwardly with his TRAILER connected to his car.

Nice.

I must not dwell.

The most important thing at my new address (apart from my own driveway...wa ha ha ha) is that my dogs love it. The garden is fascinating to them. It's larger than the one before and is full of trees and flowers and new smells. It's lovely! It has a narrow winding path around the lawned area and Eric and Edmund follow it round as if they don't want to get their paws muddy. Perfect!

The other thing they love is that the livingroom looks out to the front and the windows are large and low... so they hop onto the footstool and watch the world go by.

Eric watching the world

Edmund doing the same

There is a primary school near by and twice a day they enjoy watching mums and children, in brightly-coloured coats and scarves with school bags swinging (in the rain) as they hurry past.

From my point of view, I finally have my study/spare room set up. It's a small room but there is room for a single bed, bedside table and my large corner desk (just!).

Where I'm sitting now :)

It's been a busy couple of months, but things are now just settling down... as long as they can keep from chewing all the bulbs that are appearing, or there'll be trouble!

Nechtan the Funny :)

2011-03-06T23:26:00.001Z

My friend Nechtan has made me laugh so much tonight, I just had to share it.

(My internet connection has been shite since I moved as I'm STILL using a broadband dongle as my ISP seems to be snowed under - apparently I'll have a proper t'internet connection tomorrow...woo hoo!)

"Also given the amount of knife crime around this area it would be comforting to know that I could move quickly away if needed instead of trying to escape with a brisk walk. I imagine mincing away like an Olympic walker with a knife wielding thug in pursuit to the Benny Hill theme tune."

See?

How often do you read a paragraph like that?

(Back to catch up with all the blogs I follow once I have a decent bloody connection).

:)

Home Sweet Home

2011-02-15T21:45:00.000Z

I'm back (I think).

As mentioned, previously, I bought a mobile broadband dongle due to the fact that I'd have to wait several weeks to be connected to t'internet after moving home.

It didn't work.

So I tried another.

And here I am.

It's not great, but gives me some access... woo hoo!

I am now living about 5 miles from where I was before, but it's a different world!

Where I was before, I had... well, let's just say I had some rather 'trying' neighbours at times. Teenagers can be... well...........

But on to more positive things.

I'm now in a very sweet 2 bed-bungalow with lovely neighbours!

My dogs love their new garden, with trees and flowers and snow drops to sniff around. I have somewhere to park my car without it getting scratched and I'm a 2 minute walk from a park that the 3 of us will thoroughly enjoy.

The person who bought my house is going to do a LOT of work on it. I thought that maybe there wasn't too much that could be done to a mid-terrace... but the plans are full and varied!

There will be much disruption and noise between the end of February and the beginning of September, apparently.

All I can say is that I'm glad I'm living here now... ;)

A moving experience

2011-02-02T18:04:00.000Z

As some of you will know, I'm in the process of moving. For a list freak like me it is wonderful. I have lists everywhere. I have lists of lists. And lists of lists of lists.

Oh, yes.

But for someone with a penchant for clutter... well...

Unfortunately, that's me, too.

Life has been a little(?) hectic recently, so I'd like to take this opportunity (it may be the last for a while*) to say to those I follow, that I shall get back to reading your blogs as soon as I am settled. I've only read about half a dozen in the last week, if that. Time has been ticking and I have been packing. And tracking... but that's another post altogether.

Please, each of you, try not to be too prolific for a while or I'll have far too many posts to catch up on :)

On a slightly different note... This morning, while I was upstairs packing, I heard a noise that could only be Edmund** up to no good.

I raced (after tripping over 3 cardboard boxes, a dog bed, 2 desk lamps, 3 baskets and Eric***) downstairs to find carnage.

The little bugger had been down the bag I had in the kitchen of Oh, Jesus, feck, how long as THAT been in the cupboard for?!? and he'd found a doozy: He'd come upon a tub with a plastic lid, half-filled with very old cornflour that I'd opened yesterday in order to tip some old spices into TO KEEP THEM SAFE.

Hmmm...

There was a trail out of the kitchen, through the house, to the back door, of cornflour, sesame seeds and lots and lots of cloves.

And he thinks that's helping?!?!

Grrr......

I shall return as soon as possible. Until then, may you all have writers' block re your blogs (ONLY!) so that I have a chance of catching up ;)

* I won't be connected to a phone until 22nd Feb and t'interweb until about a week after that. A WEEK!!! It's given me the shivers. I plan to try one of these mobile broadband dongles although I'm not in a great area for coverage so who knows? I may not be around until March. March. March. March. Wow that sounds bad. March.

**My dog - 12 years of age, with arthritis and on daily meds for it...believe it or not.

***Edmund's brother, also 12, also with arthritis, also on meds.

Until next time.................

(May I also say a BIG thank you to J and R for sending lovely mails during this hectic time ;D )

Open letter to: my bank

2011-01-28T12:50:00.000Z

Dear NatWest,

When I phoned you to tell you of my new address (because for some reason* it's not possible to do that online), I really did JUST phone you to tell you my new address.

I did not want to be 'passed' to your colleague ALL THE WAY TO BLOODY INDIA where I was greeted with a 'Good afternoon, how are you today?'

It was the fucking morning HERE.

And please don't ask me how I am LEST I TELL YOU HOW I FEEL ABOUT BEING PASSED TO SOMEONE IN A FOREIGN COUNTRY.

Makes no odds which country, I just want to speak to someone I can understand. If I wanted to be employed by a Norwegian company, I'd a) learn the language, and b) learn how to speak it so that Norwegians could understand me.

The person I spoke to did not speak English well. If you're going to pay them 3p a day, then please at least pay for English lessons too.

And when I said (7 times): 'No, thank you, I won't upgrade my account as I'm not interested in any of the benefits', I actually meant: NO, THANK YOU, I WON'T UPGRADE MY ACCOUNT AS I'M NOT INTERESTED IN ANY OF THE BENEFITS.

Because you were so pushy, I had to hang up on you.

Your customer service is shit.

Thank you,

Kit Courteney

*You clearly have this policy to try to BULLY your customers into handing you money for services they don't fucking want.

Unconscious Mutterings - 416

2011-01-17T14:56:00.002Z

She says, we think...

1.Bootie :: -licious

2.User :: name and password

3.Child :: star

4.Scribe :: Pens!

5.Manager :: Football

6.Upsetting :: Losing a pen :(

7.Puddles :: My garden is one big one right now

8.Hopeful :: It might stop raining

9.Procrastination ::

http://rainbow.arch.scriptmania.com/tools/rainbow_text/

http://www.meez.com/

http://www.wordle.net/

http://abowman.com/google-modules/

http://www.oneplusyou.com/q

10.Statistics :: = Maths + Yuck

John Bercow: twat

2011-01-13T22:25:00.001Z

What a repulsive little man.

Moving boxes

2011-01-11T15:19:00.000Z

I've had little time for blogging recently.

a) I've still got the lurgy - so that's a month now. Bloody ridiculous. Still waking up coughing half a dozen times in the night, still sneezing far more than I'd like and still croaky - like a frog with a hangover.

b) I'm moving. Having purchased a LARGE number of boxes, it is now dawning that there won't be enough, having filled 17 of them (so far)with my books and eyeing up yet another shelf to be packed this afternoon.

Considering I 'evicted' two-thirds of the original number last summer, I can't quite believe that the floor upstairs is still heaving with hard backs, paper backs and text books of all descriptions.

Moving them all will be VERY hard work.

Still... on a brighter note... I have lots of bubblewrap (tick the manic mode button!) too...

Go on... you know you want to...

Happy New Year :)

2010-12-31T15:51:00.000Z

May 2011 bring every one of you something wonderful :)

Student fees. Student scum.

2010-12-10T18:16:00.002Z

Ignorant little fuck

I've been thinking about this whole 'student fees' issue for a while now.

I've been a student in my time. School, obviously, and then college, and then some years later I chose to study with The OU.

But, to be fair, I WAS in my mid 20s then, so I was a GROWN-UP.

Unfortunately, it seems that some of the so-called students we have protesting over the rise in fees are actually around about the age of 4 and are having little hissy fits.

What's wrong with having to pay for a service? Especially at a time when the UK is in the poo, financially.

I know it's not as simple as that, but HOW in the name of all that is good, does an argument over student fees justify vandalism and violence?

I understand that students want to be heard. Just because I don't happen to believe in their cause does not turn me against listening to what they have to say. They clearly have every right to demonstrate. Peacefully.

But why the hell do we see scenes like these and these?

Do they think that helps? Do they?

Do they think that by defacing war memorials that their little voices will be heard. That society will say "Hey, yeah, we're with the students, so you'd better change your policies you evil government, or else there'll be trouble!"

Granted, there are many Brits who couldn't give two hoots for the Royal family, but why act in this way?! (See link, above.) Are these students not civilised? Is there something wrong with them?

Perhaps the thugs amongst them are going to give the decent students a bad name in the same way our infamous football thugs do the loyal and genuine footy fans.

I hope with all my heart that every nasty, childish little thug-student who has defiled, defaced, injured, vandalised or committed ANY act of violence is caught and charged AND FINED ...

...And may they fail every bloody exam from now on.

Oh, woe is me...

2010-12-09T16:24:00.000Z

This is not going to be pretty.

I'll tell you that much right now, reader.

I realise that many of you do not know me in person, but for those who do, please keep your ~~evil sarcasm harnessed~~ kind comments to yourselves.

Many thanks.

Right, so, for those who DON'T know me, I would think that you each imagine me as highly intelligent, terribly witty, incredibly sophisticated, ultra classy, tasteful, stylish and a cut above.

Yes?

If that's the case, and I'm sure it is, then I might just have to burst your bubbles.

I am freezing cold. I have a cold. It's just a head cold. Nothing major. But it's at the top end of fecking irritating for a piddling cold.

It started last week, disappeared on Monday (hoorah!) and then swept back with a vengeance last night. Oh, boy, did it?!!

As you know, I don't like to make a drama (please hush, those at the back, thank you) but I've been waving snotty tissues around like a middle-aged Victorian woman with a case of the vapours.

My head is pounding, my eyes are red, my ears hurt, my cheeks are bright pink and boiling hot, my nose is so bunged up, I cannot breathe out of it, and my throat is red-raw.

But it's just a cold.

And it's driving me to distraction.

WHY, OH WHY, OH WHY is my nose blocked one moment and then, if I bend over to feed the dogs, pick up some tissues I've dropped etc., does my nose SUDDENLY start to 'leak' like a burst pipe??

Sorry, I don't know how else to describe it. Still classy, right?

Seriously, if I'm not quick enough with a tissue, it's a disaster. I'm sitting at my desk and I have 2 boxes of tissues with me - one box is now empty - and 2 'handy' packs in my pockets for fear of dripping over my laptop.

It's not a good look.

I'm washing my hands every 2 minutes so they're getting cold and sore and I've filled the empty tissue box with snotty tissues in the hope they 'stay contained' until I venture downstairs to make more hot tea. By 'stay contained', I mean that if I put them in the small bin in the study, a certain dog (Edmund) goes down it and pulls them out.

You can see how irritating this is - constantly bending down to pick up wet tissues... while stemming the flow.

It hasn't been a good day.

Rather distressingly, it's now time to feed the dogs.

I may be some time.

The STUPID girl who cried rape

2010-12-07T15:48:00.001Z

This story has made me livid with livid-ness.

I was going to write about it in detail but I won't because I don't want to be another person who plasters the INNOCENT man's name across the www.

If you don't want to click the link, or are unable to, the gist of the story is:

Silly 16 year old girl
Drunkenly fondles and kisses a 20 year old man on a night out in a town centre (caught on CCTV)
They go back to his and have consensual sex
She gets worried because she has a boyfriend but has cheated on him
So flags down a police car on the way home
To accuse the man she had a one night stand with, of RAPE
The man was held for 36 hours and was on bail for 2 months until the stupid girl admitted she had lied
The fecking moronic judge said that the girl should not be named even though the man (and 2 co-accused) were.

Now where's the ~~sense~~ JUSTICE in that????

Unconscious Mutterings - 410

2010-12-05T07:52:00.001Z

She says, we think...

1.Twitter :: Tweets

2.Facebook :: Fun

3.MySpace :: Does anyone use that, now?

4.Friend :: Pens - they ARE my friends

5.Subscribe :: to Writing Magazine

6.Conflict :: Bad hair day

7.Ignore :: me at your peril

8.Drama :: Queen (see #7)

9.Hide :: the body

10.List :: Yes please... I love a list

Not so much Wordless Wednesday, more...

2010-12-02T06:23:00.000Z

Courtesy of bbc.co.uk

...Thoroughly pissed-off Thursday...

Please feck off now, there's a good snow.

The Hating Game - Talli Roland

2010-12-01T07:17:00.001Z

Well, here we are on December 1st and it's Talli Day!

Help Talli Roland's debut novel THE HATING GAME hit the Kindle bestseller list at Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk by spreading the word today. Even a few sales in a short period of time on Amazon helps push the book up the rankings, making it more visible to other readers.

Amazon.co.uk: http://amzn.to/hNBkJk

Amazon.com: http://amzn.to/hX2ieD

No Kindle? Download a free app at Amazon for Mac, iPhone, PC, Android and more.

That's what I did at 6am this morning!

About THE HATING GAME:

When man-eater Mattie Johns agrees to star on a dating game show to save her ailing recruitment business, she's confident she'll sail through to the end without letting down the perma-guard she's perfected from years of her love 'em and leave 'em dating strategy. After all, what can go wrong with dating a few losers and hanging out long enough to pick up a juicy £200,000 prize? Plenty, Mattie discovers, when it's revealed that the contestants are four of her very unhappy exes. Can Mattie confront her past to get the prize money she so desperately needs, or will her exes finally wreak their long-awaited revenge? And what about the ambitious TV producer whose career depends on stopping her from making it to the end?

Sounds good, doesn't it?!

Please support Talli if you can, today.

Thank you!

The lovely (and horribly talented!) Talli

Unconscious Mutterings - 409

2010-11-29T14:15:00.000Z

She says, we think...

1.Scrabble :: K=5

2.Watching :: A very old TV programme I LOVED! (See below)

3.Habitually :: Obituary

4.Gritty :: Novel

5.Slovenly :: Sloth

6.Canvas :: Painting

7.Leggings :: Are never a good idea

8.Thursday :: 's child has far to go

9.Attention :: Seeking

10.Hypnotic :: Music

Gillian McKeith: old hag?

2010-11-26T16:47:00.001Z

I've been watching I'm a Celebrity: Get me out of here! and cannot quite understand why that hideous old crone, "Dr" (bollocks) Gillian McKeith, decided to take part.

Yes, I know it's junk TV.

Yes, I know anyone with a reasonable IQ shouldn't be watching it.

Yes, I know ......

Actually, that's daft.

It's bloody entertaining AND I have a half decent IQ, thank you very much.

She says she has 'phobias'. These seem to consist:

spiders (yuck, with her on that one)
beetles (fair enough, some are MASSIVE and hiss)
ants (ants?)
snakes
worms
bugs/grubs of all descriptions,
water (what?)
flies (yes, really)
manners (she's a rude bitch)
sanity (that's clearly a bigg'un)

To then go and spend time in the Australian JUNGLE seems a little... erm... well... STUPID??

A lesser-spotted crone bug with the contents of her knickers (don't ask)

Now, we all know (she mentioned this herself the other night) that she is refusing to leave because she wants her fee. But why should she be paid anything at all as she has not contributed to the experience other than (for her) one 'brave' Bushtucker trial involving the possibility of being almost drowned.

I'm not sure she really DOES have a phobia of water as she seemed quite happy (again, for her) to be put into a giant UNDERWATER lobster pot where she would have to retrieve a number of tokens (for servings of dinner for her and her camp mates). I'm wondering if she's lying about the water phobia??

I could go on about her weird behaviours: her shrieking, her fainting at the slightest thing, her stealing of limited rations of beans and rice, but I won't because if you're still reading this post then you'll no doubt be watching it yourselves.

She claims (she really does) to be a health guru. For some time she pretended she was a doctor. She gained a PhD in "holistic nutrition via a distance-learning programme from the non-accredited American Holistic College of Nutrition" (Wikipedia) which basically means she sent off for a course about shit, paid for it and got a pretty certificate at the end of it.

Again, from Wikipedia:

"Physician Ben Goldacre, writing in The Guardian's "Bad Science" column, speculated on rumours that parts of McKeith's PhD thesis may have been published as a 48-page pamphlet entitled "Miracle Superfood: Wild Blue-Green Algae" and ridiculed the pamphlet as Cargo Cult science full of "anecdote, but no data." Goldacre applied on-line to the American Association of Nutritional Consultants in the name of his dead cat and succeeded in getting the same "certified professional" membership as that possessed by McKeith. The price was $60."

However, what really fascinates me is her appearance and how she seems to be a very bad advertisement for what she preaches. I'm thinking that eating shit for years (oh, she loves a 'herbal cube', whatever the fuck that is, Miso soup and goji berries) has left her ill, puny, unable to cope with the world, neurotic, pastey, with dead eyes, no sense of humour and with the ability to faint on cue. She criticises overweight people for being unhealthy (in one of her shows that's no longer made), but as far as I can see, Gillian seems to be rather unhealthy herself, physically and mentally.

Quite shockingly, I have discovered that 'Dr' Gill is 51!! Yes, really, she is only 51 years of age!!

By contrast, Nigella Lawson turns 51 in January and looks bloody good on it!

Now, who looks healthier..............?

Website vote on abortion of 17 week old foetus...WTF?

2010-11-19T07:59:00.000Z

Dailymail.co.uk

It's not often that I'm rendered speechless about a story like this, but I'm not sure I have the words to rant about it right now.

"I fear that the constant pressure to be the perfect wife and mother while maintaining a full-time job will eventually cause my brain to implode and lead to a nervous breakdown."

Ok, I'll try.

Can you believe they are talking about an abortion, here? Not just the generalised topic of abortion, but an abortion of a particular, healthy 17 week old foetus...... because the 'parents' aren't sure what to do...?

I say 'parents' because, to me, this couple are not displaying any parental traits at all, other than to be physically pregnant.

I'm not going to go into my own views on abortion. That would not be appropriate. My issue here is that this couple seem somewhat incapable of making a decision on whether or not to continue with the pregnancy.

So they are letting others decide for them...?

And why leave it so late into the pregnancy? The cut-off date 'to vote' (get voting, folks!) is just TWO DAYS before the state-legal abortion time. Why?

Actually, don't get voting.

Is this some sort of publicity stunt? A need for attention? A cry for help? A joke?

I don't know. I just find it very difficult to comprehend why any 'normal' person would feel the urge to do this.

The stupid cow fears the pressure of being 'a perfect wife and mother' ....... well, love, there's not much chance of that! You've put the life of your unborn baby in the balance by getting others to vote on whether or not it lives! THAT is never going to make you a 'perfect mother' no matter how long he lives!

My real feeling here centres on her worrying about having a nervous breakdown if she were to continue with the pregnancy. It's a fair enough comment, but...

IF YOU THOUGHT THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE, WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU ENSURE THAT YOU DIDN'T BECOME PREGNANT?

They've suffered two miscarriages in the past 10 months, so she's been pregnant three times.

Is it just me, or is that VERY careless considering they feel so strongly about her mental health if she actually has a baby?

Two (old) Tunes for Tuesday

2010-11-16T15:47:00.000Z

The perfect gift

2010-11-15T14:53:00.001Z

I've seen this site Tweeted about three times today. I'm probably very slow off the mark, but I've not seen it before.

They really do sell the most wonderful items!

Gratuitous pictures to follow............

Bag

Pen tidy

Bracelet

Bag

T-shirt

Mug

Clock

Make up case

BANG.... pardon...?

2010-11-07T11:07:00.001Z

Eric (left) and Edmund

This has been the best night of fireworks EVER!

As some of you know (because I've bored you with it often enough) my dogs are nearly 12. Just under a year ago I had a feeling that Edmund had started to go deaf. I took him to the nice-man-who-makes-you-better and was told that it was actually quite difficult to check just how deaf he was (some dogs just 'decide' not to hear certain things once older, apparently) and a clap test was only telling one side of things as dogs pick up other vibrations and movement of air, so not conclusive.

Over time, it has become apparent that he can only now hear very loud/sharp noises on OCCASION.

Eric's hearing has been getting progressively worse, although he has more hearing than his brother so I wasn't sure how this would affect things.

Ordinarily, fireworks cause a fair bit of distress, but this year, for both the Friday and the Saturday, I didn't have a peep out of them.

Wonderful!

Still keeping everything crossed...

2010-11-04T13:23:00.001Z

Today I checked my estate agent's website and THIS was next to the picture of my house.

Woo bloody hoo!

Fingers crossed...

2010-11-01T19:22:00.000Z

My kitchen

I've been in the process of selling my house for some months, now.

It hasn't gone well.

The fucking unprofessional estate agent was crap.

A new one took over not long ago.

Today there was an offer.

A decent one.

Today is a good day.

Talli Roland: 5 weeks and counting......

2010-10-27T14:44:00.000+01:00

So, here we are.

5 weeks to go before 1st December, 2010.

And, why, KC, is that the least bit interesting...?

Well, reader, I shall tell you...

The VERY talented (I'm not jealous, I'm NOT!) Talli Roland is taking on Amazon.

Eh...?

I won't cloud the issue by telling you what a wonderful writer Talli is. Nor will I mention that Talli is a jolly lovely person and that we are all VERY excited about this. I won't even mention that she has the coolest hair in Blogville... not that that matters... well, maybe just a tiny bit...

What I *will* do is send you here to read what Talli has to say.

Thank you for reading.

(I SO need a hair cut... just saying...)

It amused me

2010-10-23T15:08:00.003+01:00

'Grotesque' crime = community service order????

2010-10-13T06:54:00.000+01:00

WHY????

Two Reasons Tuesday #11

2010-10-12T16:42:00.000+01:00

My Two Reasons, today, are:

1. My sense of humour. If you don't laugh, you cry, right???

I've been trying to sell my house recently and thought that I'd picked a half-decent estate agent.

WRONG.

Me!

The cow was a fecking liar. How she gets away with it I have no idea. It's probably a separate post, so I won't go into details now.

All I'll say for now is that if you are thinking of moving, then DON'T use the estate agency that starts 'Ha' and ends 'art'. Not that I'm saying their name, of course. I wouldn't be so rude as to say they are a bunch of time-wasting fuckwits.

Or would I?

2. ONLY occasional bad hair/make-up days.

We all have them, don't we? We get out of the shower and dry our hair... sometimes spending ages doing it, and then a nice smoothed bit of fringe suddenly decides to curl up like a dying insect in your peripheral vision.

That's ok, you think. A bit of water on it and maybe a clip and I'll be good to go in 10 minutes.

Oh, so mistaken.

A bit of water, a clip, the hairdryer, some gel, some hairspray and some industrial strength straighteners won't tame that sodding bit of unruly hair.

Arghhhhh.

What to do???

It's ok, I'll wear a hat. Sorted.

Thank goodness for hats.

And in the same line, a dodgy make-up day can be just as unpleasant.

You do it in the half-light in the morning. You're still a bit sleepy if truth be told. But you give it a go... lest you scare children and small animals once you leave the house.

You whack on a bit of foundation to 'even out' your skin tone. This actually means that you cake it on your rosy cheeks (I have rosacea) and hope that you remember not to cry with laughter during the day or the foundation will spoil and you'll be left with a streaky face.

You do your eyes and cheeks... again, this is a potential hazard. Imagine getting caught in the rain; mascara running, foundation streaky, blusher parting like the Red Sea...

And to top it off, lipstick on your teeth.

Am I painting an attractive picture of myself...?

Well, worry-thee-not, blogging chums, for I have very few of these bad hair/make-up days and THAT makes me very happy! I bet the same can't be said for some, though...

Pete Burns, courtesy of dailymail.co.uk

Norman Wisdom dies

2010-10-05T06:53:00.002+01:00

Courtesy of nndb.com

I've just read that the wonderful Norman Wisdom has died.

My sister and I grew up laughing at his 'Norman Pitkin' character. Not that we were around in the 50s but they did show a lot of his films on television in the late 70s/early 80s and we were totally enchanted.

Courtesy of comedy.co.uk

My mother would make us a jam sandwich and we'd sit together, often on a bed sheet on the floor (it would be our raft, or our car, or our horse and cart, or our prison cell - it's a wonder we grew up to be so normal) while we watched one of Norman Wisdom's films... laughing away and no doubt spitting out bits of jam sandwich, by accident, in the process.

Nice.

R.I.P Sir Norman Wisdom. You made two little girls howl with laughter as soon as you appeared on our screen, and for that you will be remembered most fondly.

Courtesy of uk.reuters.com

It's early Monday morning. I needed a giggle...

2010-10-04T06:57:00.002+01:00

Name WIN

see more funny videos

Url FAIL

see more funny videos

CD Name FAIL

see more funny videos

Maury Guest FAIL

see more funny videos

Chat Window FAIL

see more funny videos

And my favourite of the lot:

Cake Decoration FAIL

see more funny videos

I'm shallow... but I can't help it

2010-09-29T17:04:00.000+01:00

Courtesy of mirror.co.uk

I'm feeling rather unclean at the moment. I had every intention of posting about the editing I've done today (I'll save that for later in the week) but, instead, I felt the need to post about this minging old trollop.

In my opinion. Of course.

I was ~~procrastinating~~ doing some research, earlier, when I came across an article about Sharon Osbourne.

Now, I'm not interested in her 'comeback'. From what I remember of her X Factor days, she was a foul-mouthed, big-headed, narcissistic, mentally unstable piece of work who was quite possibly a complete waste of oxygen.

I could be wrong.

What I am interested in is her bonkers obsession with making herself look bloody ridiculous.

Now, I wouldn't have called her 'pretty' (top left picture) before the surgery, but she's certainly not awful. She has bad hair - but we all did in the late 80s! I realise that my view is not everyone's, of course, and this is no doubt making me sound shallow, but...

Actually, you'd be right. I am shallow, aren't I? But, I just don't get why she's had so much 'corrective' work done when there didn't seem to be anything that, realistically, needed to be 'corrected'.

And now, it's natural really (oh, the irony), she has to keep up with the surgery as bits of her face start to droop and wrinkle... and.. OH MY GOD... *flash of lightening, roll of thunder* she........... AGES.

Ok, so she looks bad in this picture. Too much surgery and weird hair clearly doesn't suit her. But perhaps a paper bag would?

She obviously doesn't like the way she looks and that's a shame because it's clearly affected the rest of her life. She is like millions of others! But surely, it's time to stop when you start to resemble a waxwork?

A short.

2010-09-21T15:25:00.000+01:00

I'm falling behind in keeping up with the blogs I enjoy.

Just too busy.

Must.

Keep.

Up.

Bad KC.

Must try harder.

Penguin Cafe Orchestra - Perpetuum Mobile

2010-09-15T10:17:00.000+01:00

This is one of my ALL TIME favourite pieces of music: Perpetuum Mobile by Simon Jeffes.

It always makes me smile - I don't know what it is about it, but it's just so wonderfully uplifting.

Volume up...

9/11

2010-09-11T07:52:00.001+01:00

While catching up on friends' activities etc. on Facebook this morning, I found this article, highlighted by Carrie.

The picture is still shocking.

Anyone who is able to look at it and turn away without thinking, for just a moment, what those people AND their families went through (and are still going through) has a very hard heart, indeed.

The accompanying article is long but worth reading to the end. It's well-written and terribly poignant.

What happened that day was an act of pure evil; an act full of hatred and harm.

And in the name of what...?

Something amusing for the weekend...

2010-09-10T14:19:00.004+01:00

Wounded soldier

2010-09-09T17:49:00.000+01:00

I was wrong... Eric is STILL full of the joys of spring. He hasn't stopped jumping about like a puppy since he came out of the nurse's room about an hour ago.

I haven't had a chance to look at his eye lid properly yet - he just won't keep still. They shaved around it, so it looks different, but I can't make out what's what at the moment.

Blurry because he won't keep still!

What can't be missed, though, is the lump removal on his back. I thought they were going to check it, but they decided to remove it instead.

Anyone who doesn't like to see stitches/redness needn't travel further. It's not yucky or anything and it's not a close-up.

All I can say is that after a very quiet day of just me and Edmund, it's lovely to have a bouncing Eric back home :0)

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Eye, eye...

2010-09-08T19:00:00.002+01:00

Well, he's done it again.

My Eric is poorly. He's rather good at that. I've posted several times about various illnesses/operations he's had. I'm afraid, dear Reader, that I shall be boring you once more.

For a long time, now, he's had a problem with his eye. About 2(?) years ago I found that he seemed to be 'crying' blood. Not that he was crying, but you know what I mean.

It was most disturbing.

A visit to The-Nice-Man-Who-Makes-You-Better... At-A-Cost did, indeed, make him better... at a cost. Turned out he had a wart on his top eye lid and it had just grown big enough to rub on his eye and irritate it. The Nice Man kept Eric in for a few hours and whipped the little lump away - as much as was possible at the time. And he made a full recovery.

In time, it has become apparent that the lump has grown some more. I've been to the ~~bloody~~ vet several times, most recently a few weeks' ago. He gave me some ointment to squeeze into Eric's eye each day in the hope that enough lubrication would help the problem (by stopping the rubbing) and it also had a bug-busting quality to make sure the eye stayed clean. If the lump hadn't got any bigger, that would have been sufficient.

But the lump got bigger.

At the same time (here we go *raises eyes to the heavens*) he developed a lump in his shoulder blade area. Eric is full of lumps, and has had 2 removed (other than the wart) and has about 4 or 5 more, the biggest being one the size of an orange (apparently) inside him, along his back bone. You can hardly see it, but there is a slightly raised 'hump' to the right of his spine. IF this one starts to press on his back bone then it has to come out but the vet would prefer not to do it as the hole it would leave would need to be 'padded' and a drain put in... Oh joy.

So, with his runny eye and his new lump, I took him to the vet (who's bloody brilliant) this morning.

To cut a long story short, Eric has to go back in tomorrow for an operation.

The vet isn't happy with his eye so is going to cut the wart out. This will be quite a big op as the wart is quite wide, so the vet was explaining how he'll need to take a wedge shape out of Eric's eye lid. It's not going to be pretty and it's not going to be easy - and when he comes round, he's not going to be a happy boy.

While he's under, the vet is going to do a fine needle aspiration of the new lump. HOPEFULLY this lump is quite harmless. If not, then we'll cross that bridge when the result comes back.

Until then... I'm keeping my fingers crossed that Eric isn't in too much discomfort with a smaller eye lid tomorrow.

I can only hope.

These example's drive me nut's (apologies)

2010-09-06T14:35:00.000+01:00

Old age

2010-09-03T18:28:00.002+01:00

My dogs are always together.

Actually, that's not true.

There are times when they are separated.

A few times over the past (almost) 12 years they have been kept apart for a reason, such as one of them going to the vets for ~~expensive stuff~~ 'treatment'. Whoever is left behind, with me, (usually Edmund, on the right) pines for the missing brother... and to be honest... so do I.

It seems so strange just having one of the little ~~buggers~~ darlings under my feet. Not right at all.

Not that one of them is At The Very Nice Man's Who Makes You Better, thank goodness, but they ARE getting old.

Aren't we all.

The reason I say this is that for the last 2 mornings I have had to poke Edmund to make sure he's still alive.

Ed, left, mostly white. Eric, right.

For several months, now, the little sods have been waking me up at about 4.30-5.00am.

Yes......... that's a.m... 5 in the morning. Not right, is it?

No!

They are old. They have bladders the size of a pea. They are my little bundles of ~~piss~~ joy.

Do I like getting up at 5am...?

Feck, no.

Do I moan about it...?

Er........... ok, just a bit.

But wouldn't you?!

Anyway, back to the point. Eric (the hyper one, mostly tan in colour) starts sqeaking at around 4.30 as a rule. They are not allowed into the bedroom so he's learnt to squeak-with-volume. Grrrr....

(These sunny summer mornings are killing me... roll on autumn!)

Eric has started squeaking slightly later - 5.05 ish (which is a bloody relief, I can tell you!) But little Edmund isn't waking up at that time, bless him.

Edmund is almost totally deaf. You'd have to go up to him and clap very loudly to get any joy out of him. Eric is fairly deaf, but not quite as bad as Ed... yet.

Curled up, under a blanket with me. Always together!

It seems that a) the mornings aren't quite so bright, so it's not waking them quite so early, and b) Edmund is not hearing Eric squeak so is laying on the landing, curled up in a ball when I get up... pretending not to bloody breathe!

For 2 mornings now I've had to watch his chest go up and down before I panic. Eric comes dashing down the stairs for his wee... while Edmund is still in doggy dreamville.

I shall not be so worried tomorrow at 5am... but you can bet I'll be tired!

Have a lovely weekend :0)

Mary Bale: Evil bitch. Plus - something for the weekend...

2010-08-27T10:02:00.000+01:00

We've heard a lot about this story here in the UK. By now, I should imagine that the news has spread like wild fire half way around the globe.

If you haven't heard about it, basically, it's about a twisted middle-aged woman who probably needs psychiatric help. She put a cat into a bin.

Was the cat already dead?

No. The cat was alive. She put a LIVE cat into a wheelie-bin and left it there.

Was it her cat? Maybe it was a nuisance to her, had behavioural problems, took drugs and hung out with the wrong crowd of cats...?

No, it was someone else's cat, Lola, who was very friendly indeed.

Which is how Lola ended up in the bin.

If you haven't seen the video from the link above, please watch it. Can you tell me what the feck makes a seemingly 'normal' woman think that it would be a 'joke' to put a cat into a bin...?

I have a cat, but even if I didn't have one - and didn't like them - I would STILL think this woman was a twisted bitch. Once again, after my last post on bull-fighting, we are back to animal cruelty.

YOU CAN'T PUT A CAT IN A BIN!

I've deliberately held off from blogging about this sicko this week as I knew I'd want to rant about it, but this isn't bad for me so I'm impressed.

Instead, I shall leave you with something really rather lovely :0)

Bullfighting

2010-08-19T16:55:00.000+01:00

Although this picture is not directly linked to this post, it rather pleases me.

I hope the << fuckwit << lost his bits and pieces.

This story actually makes me feel ill.

The link takes you to an online UK newspaper story. It's up to you whether or not you want to click Play once there to watch a magnificent creature trample and injure 40 people.

Personally I think that every one of them deserved what they got.

Bullfighting is barbaric and anyone who enjoys watching or taking part is the lowest of the low in my opinion.

It's not a sport. It's not brave. It's not something to be proud of.

It's ANIMAL CRUELTY.

May their injuries weep for eternity. So there.

EDIT: The comments here are spot on!

Two Reasons Tuesday #10

2010-08-17T10:40:00.000+01:00

My Two Reasons today are bookish.

1. My diary. I really couldn't cope without it. As I get older, so my memory decides to wander off with the fairies far more frequently than I'd like. I used to have a Filofax, I've still got it, I just don't use it, but I used to forget to buy the right little inserts whenever they ran out. It took too much organising... and for someone who loves organising, that's hard for me to say! My diary just sits on my desk and there's no messing with it. All appointments go in it as well as 'to do' lists... it keeps ME organised. And quite frankly, it deserves a medal.

2. My dictionary. Another book I couldn't live without. I know that with the whole t'internetty thing, we can now look up gazillions of words on gazillions of online dictionaries, and that word processy-type mahoosits check everything for us as we go, but there's nothing like having a well-thumbed copy of a decent dictionary to return to again and again.

Can you imagine NOT having a dictionary in your home...? Someone very close to me, a relative no less, does not own one.

That shakes me to the core...! In fact, I think it should be illegal to not own one. Me for PM next time around, I think. Let's get our priorities right!

Distraction

2010-08-16T11:09:00.000+01:00

I've been outside, gardening in the chilly weather.

I've had to keep my brain warm.

Apologies.

Separated at birth...?

Alex Reid

CJ de Mooi

Blast from the past

2010-08-12T21:11:00.000+01:00

Don't ask me why, but today I was thinking about Susan Tully who played Suzanne Ross in Grange Hill.

I LOVED Grange Hill when I were a lass.

1980-4 would have been when I was gripped by it.

Bloody brilliant!

(Image from Google)