Simon, Bev's gorgeous husband contacted me a while back to help organise a party for his beloved wife.
This weekend was the party weekend. I finished sing and sign, got into the car and drove over to Garstang, Preston. It was a horrible drive, wet, windy and full of bloody drivers who drove at 50 miles an hour.
I finally got the Simon and Bev's about 4o'clock. It was going to be a surprise party, but those who know and love Bev know that its just not possible to do surprise anything where she is concerned. So there was no need for pretenses, I turned up and after hugs and tea, chatting with Bev and Lynne, thier house mate, Simon and I set off to the venue to set it up.
Candles, baloon and embarrassing pictures in place we returned home to get ready for the party. Bev is a, and Im sure she wont mind me saying this, horsey person. She lives in jeans and enjoys mucking out and generally doing horsey things, she doesnt do dresses, but tonight she doned a gorgeous dress, which showed off her puppies perfectly - she hated it, put on make up and even did her nails. This is obviuosly what happens when you turn 40!
Almost on time we all headed off to the party, where we proceeded to drink, dance and generally be merry. I had a fantastic time, running round with my camera, taking pics of people having fun, drinking, smoking and dancing. The evening was lovely and as the DJ wound up I was left thinking how lovely my friends life is, great friends who love her and a husband who, whilst not the most romantic bloke in the world, would throw a surprise party for her and let her in on the surprise.
A small crowd of us headed back to the house for "more wine", more waffle and in my case a little bit of snogging. But thats my secret and Im not telling anyone nuffink else about that!!!!
So here they are - a few pics to capture the evening.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
Im weak - I went covert in Total!
But Im trying! Very trying I hear you call!
Rooooaaaaaarrrrrrr - well actually I have to admit that by Thursday I ran out of steam, but I did manage to maintain at least a level of healthyness until Saturday when I cracked and brought six chocolate doughnuts, a bottle of wine and 10 fags....
DOH!
It was the garages fault. Damn Total gargage and their Hot food counter! I had gone in feeling all in control and there they were all wrapped up and yummy, well we all know chocolate goes well with wine, and wine goes well with fags, but Im a non smoker and if I was going to be naughty that was the one rule I was going to stick with. So I covertly snuck the chocolate doughnuts and wine beneath a paper, you never know who might be watching.
When the lady at the counter asked if I had any petrol I smiled and said "No", but ... slipping the delights over the counter,"anything else" she smiled at me temptingly - Im sure I saw horns and I found myself saying "yeah, 10 Richmond menthol please"... and just like that - failure. Back in the safety of my own house I closed my curtains, pulled on my pyjammies then ate, smoked and drank my way to self destruction.
I woke the next morning with Helen's voice echoing in my head "worst thing you can do, binge drink". And through dedication and determination I set about doing everything I should have done yesterday.
In my "I am woman hear me roar" mood I had invited mum and dad round for Sunday Lunch. Not wanting to blow my own trumpet, I felt pretty darn confident that this was going to be a lovely meal.
I peeled vegetables, prepared the steamed lemon desert, put in the meat and managed to clean throughout the house. Totally in control I sat in front of the TV and watched "Fanny Hill" - What a woman!
Mum and dad turned up about 1.30, veg cooking, meat looking a bit red, but stil time. Keefe was to deliver we man to us for 2pm and dinner would, I felt confident, be served at 2.15. Its all about timing.
2.10, the phone rang. Keefe's car wasnt working, dad was dispatched to go and pick up Dylan. The potatoes, were looking a bit crisp, so I turned them down, the meat was still looking a bit red - hmmm! Turn down the veg.
2.45 dad returns.
Meat a disaster, potatoes and parsnips so hard you can hardly cut through them, brocolli, asparagus and cabage so limp they need surgical support to get to the plate.
All in all - one very big disaster. Mum and dad were very polite about the whole thing, but did suggest maybe Mum should do Christmas dinner!
I am woman, hear me whimper!
Rooooaaaaaarrrrrrr - well actually I have to admit that by Thursday I ran out of steam, but I did manage to maintain at least a level of healthyness until Saturday when I cracked and brought six chocolate doughnuts, a bottle of wine and 10 fags....
DOH!
It was the garages fault. Damn Total gargage and their Hot food counter! I had gone in feeling all in control and there they were all wrapped up and yummy, well we all know chocolate goes well with wine, and wine goes well with fags, but Im a non smoker and if I was going to be naughty that was the one rule I was going to stick with. So I covertly snuck the chocolate doughnuts and wine beneath a paper, you never know who might be watching.
When the lady at the counter asked if I had any petrol I smiled and said "No", but ... slipping the delights over the counter,"anything else" she smiled at me temptingly - Im sure I saw horns and I found myself saying "yeah, 10 Richmond menthol please"... and just like that - failure. Back in the safety of my own house I closed my curtains, pulled on my pyjammies then ate, smoked and drank my way to self destruction.
I woke the next morning with Helen's voice echoing in my head "worst thing you can do, binge drink". And through dedication and determination I set about doing everything I should have done yesterday.
In my "I am woman hear me roar" mood I had invited mum and dad round for Sunday Lunch. Not wanting to blow my own trumpet, I felt pretty darn confident that this was going to be a lovely meal.
I peeled vegetables, prepared the steamed lemon desert, put in the meat and managed to clean throughout the house. Totally in control I sat in front of the TV and watched "Fanny Hill" - What a woman!
Mum and dad turned up about 1.30, veg cooking, meat looking a bit red, but stil time. Keefe was to deliver we man to us for 2pm and dinner would, I felt confident, be served at 2.15. Its all about timing.
2.10, the phone rang. Keefe's car wasnt working, dad was dispatched to go and pick up Dylan. The potatoes, were looking a bit crisp, so I turned them down, the meat was still looking a bit red - hmmm! Turn down the veg.
2.45 dad returns.
Meat a disaster, potatoes and parsnips so hard you can hardly cut through them, brocolli, asparagus and cabage so limp they need surgical support to get to the plate.
All in all - one very big disaster. Mum and dad were very polite about the whole thing, but did suggest maybe Mum should do Christmas dinner!
I am woman, hear me whimper!
Monday, October 13, 2008
Tell me why
I hate Mondays... or at least that's how the song goes, me, Im actually loving today, I dont know where Ive got all this positivity from but today is the first day of the rest of my life...
Kinda...
Today Im a non smoker - those who know me have my permission to knock any offending cigarettes from my lips if you see me with one in my mouth.
Today I have started my fitness regime - Im doing pilates on Mondays, thanks to Helen for the prompt. Tuesdays Im going swimming with Ruth. Wednesday is a rest day, but will probably spend the evening with Dylan crawling round the floor, running up and down the stairs and generally being "fun mum". Thursday Im doing my rosemary Connoly DVD, 50 minutes of exercise meant to tighten and firm. Friday Im having a rest day. Saturday will mean gardening or decorating and we all know how they make you feel.
Today I have decided that no matter how corny it is "no one else can make you feel inferior to them unless you let them".
Today is the first day of the rest of my life!
Kinda...
Today Im a non smoker - those who know me have my permission to knock any offending cigarettes from my lips if you see me with one in my mouth.
Today I have started my fitness regime - Im doing pilates on Mondays, thanks to Helen for the prompt. Tuesdays Im going swimming with Ruth. Wednesday is a rest day, but will probably spend the evening with Dylan crawling round the floor, running up and down the stairs and generally being "fun mum". Thursday Im doing my rosemary Connoly DVD, 50 minutes of exercise meant to tighten and firm. Friday Im having a rest day. Saturday will mean gardening or decorating and we all know how they make you feel.
Today I have decided that no matter how corny it is "no one else can make you feel inferior to them unless you let them".
Today is the first day of the rest of my life!
Friday, October 10, 2008
Stuck
I woke up this morning still buzzing from my rather gorgeous burst of energy and enthusiasm of yesterday. I ran round the house like a mad dervish, cleaning, tidying, getting Dylan ready for nursery whilst juggling the washing, the demands for "more Thomas" and managing to get my sing and sign stuff out to the car.
"I am woman hear me roar"
Then 10 minutes before my estimated departure time I was herding my immaculately pressed wee man out to the car. "I want to drive the twaktor" (Tractor - my car, yes it really does sound this bad) exclaimed the little man.
He climbed into the car, I pushed in the keys and whilst sorting out the recycling I left him to play farmers.
The wind decided at that moment to blow all the papers out of my recycling box (crap) and I downed the box and took off after the paper like some heat seeking missile. Success, the paper caught I turned as the door to the car slammed shut (bugger, fingers)But no, I saw a smiling, waving Dylan. I waved back then my eyes bulged as he hit the door lock button.
In slow motion I ran towards him, "Noooooooooo". Hands pressed up against the window I stared at him in amazement, anger and total loss.
"mummie, look, I stuck in". He turned to the drivers wheel and proceeded to play again.
"Dylan, baby" I said as I banged on the window (keep calm) "Dylan, look at mummie, see the handle, pull the handle". Ignored! I fumbled for my bag, spare key, no spare key, spare key in the house, where's the house keys - yep, on with the car keys.
"Dylan, sweetheart" I said as I banged on the window (Big smile, tinged with desperation - keep calm) "Dylan, look at mummie, see the handle, pull the handle", desperately miming pulling a handle. He looks at me with big eyes and suddenly that's when it hits him, he is locked in. Little hands come up to the window,eyes fill with tears "Mommie".
"oh Dylan, its alright, don't worry, mummie will get you out!" But how, I call my dad, mum has a spare key. I get his answer machine, bloody answer machines. I call his work number, I get his answer machine, I call his spare phone, the bloody answer machine again. I hate bloody answer machines. I call my mum, Arghhh the bloody answer machine. I call my dads work number again. This time a colleague answers, "no he's not here, have you tried his mobile?".
I stand in the street the wind whipping and rain threatening and I'm on the edge of tears. Dylan sits with his head hidden and cries. I have never felt so hopeless in all my life. I consider throwing a plant pot through the patio doors, but the cost of replacing the double glazed windows brings me to my senses.
I pace - I'm good at pacing. Dylan still cries, his little face looking at me asking why I'm not getting him out of the car. "I stuck mummie, open door" he says. "I cant baby - please Dylan, pull the handle. Wind the window down, do you remember how to wind the window down?" Blank, more tears!
I call Jane, my sing and sign boss. Not to worry she will cancel the course, everyone will understand. Will they? God I hope so!
Finally my phone rings. "Its dad, got your message on my way home now to pick up the keys". A wave of relief hits me. "its OK baby, Rubber Duck is coming to save the day". We wait, how long does a minute last...
45 minutes later and no end of tears and retching and dad drives down the road. I press my hands up against the window. "Dylan, Grandie is here" the window slowly moves, and Dylan winds down the window. "Mummie" he whispers "I was stuck".
I stick my arm through the window and pull the handle. Dylan in my arms I turn to dad with tears streaming down my face.
"I am woman hear me roar"....
"I am woman hear me roar"
Then 10 minutes before my estimated departure time I was herding my immaculately pressed wee man out to the car. "I want to drive the twaktor" (Tractor - my car, yes it really does sound this bad) exclaimed the little man.
He climbed into the car, I pushed in the keys and whilst sorting out the recycling I left him to play farmers.
The wind decided at that moment to blow all the papers out of my recycling box (crap) and I downed the box and took off after the paper like some heat seeking missile. Success, the paper caught I turned as the door to the car slammed shut (bugger, fingers)But no, I saw a smiling, waving Dylan. I waved back then my eyes bulged as he hit the door lock button.
In slow motion I ran towards him, "Noooooooooo". Hands pressed up against the window I stared at him in amazement, anger and total loss.
"mummie, look, I stuck in". He turned to the drivers wheel and proceeded to play again.
"Dylan, baby" I said as I banged on the window (keep calm) "Dylan, look at mummie, see the handle, pull the handle". Ignored! I fumbled for my bag, spare key, no spare key, spare key in the house, where's the house keys - yep, on with the car keys.
"Dylan, sweetheart" I said as I banged on the window (Big smile, tinged with desperation - keep calm) "Dylan, look at mummie, see the handle, pull the handle", desperately miming pulling a handle. He looks at me with big eyes and suddenly that's when it hits him, he is locked in. Little hands come up to the window,eyes fill with tears "Mommie".
"oh Dylan, its alright, don't worry, mummie will get you out!" But how, I call my dad, mum has a spare key. I get his answer machine, bloody answer machines. I call his work number, I get his answer machine, I call his spare phone, the bloody answer machine again. I hate bloody answer machines. I call my mum, Arghhh the bloody answer machine. I call my dads work number again. This time a colleague answers, "no he's not here, have you tried his mobile?".
I stand in the street the wind whipping and rain threatening and I'm on the edge of tears. Dylan sits with his head hidden and cries. I have never felt so hopeless in all my life. I consider throwing a plant pot through the patio doors, but the cost of replacing the double glazed windows brings me to my senses.
I pace - I'm good at pacing. Dylan still cries, his little face looking at me asking why I'm not getting him out of the car. "I stuck mummie, open door" he says. "I cant baby - please Dylan, pull the handle. Wind the window down, do you remember how to wind the window down?" Blank, more tears!
I call Jane, my sing and sign boss. Not to worry she will cancel the course, everyone will understand. Will they? God I hope so!
Finally my phone rings. "Its dad, got your message on my way home now to pick up the keys". A wave of relief hits me. "its OK baby, Rubber Duck is coming to save the day". We wait, how long does a minute last...
45 minutes later and no end of tears and retching and dad drives down the road. I press my hands up against the window. "Dylan, Grandie is here" the window slowly moves, and Dylan winds down the window. "Mummie" he whispers "I was stuck".
I stick my arm through the window and pull the handle. Dylan in my arms I turn to dad with tears streaming down my face.
"I am woman hear me roar"....
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Blue gone, hello Yello
Just a quicky to say, Im no longer blue, infact Im peachy, Im in the pink, Im bloody happy...
Just goes to show - no matter how long the road or how dark the tunnel a Llama is always bigger than a frog!
Just goes to show - no matter how long the road or how dark the tunnel a Llama is always bigger than a frog!
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Im feeling blue.
Yes, I'm afraid its true. Yesterday I was all "its fine, I can deal with it", but today I've hit a low and I'm feeling blue.
Maybe cause I'm doing a full days work and I want to be with my wee man.
Maybe cause the rumours about me writing love letters to Jo's dead husband, obviously before he was dead, are getting to me. Last night it just seemed funny, today it seems spiteful and cruel to say things like that about me! Why would she make up these things?
But maybe the real reason is because I drank a bottle of wine last night and I feel as sick as a pig!!!
Maybe cause I'm doing a full days work and I want to be with my wee man.
Maybe cause the rumours about me writing love letters to Jo's dead husband, obviously before he was dead, are getting to me. Last night it just seemed funny, today it seems spiteful and cruel to say things like that about me! Why would she make up these things?
But maybe the real reason is because I drank a bottle of wine last night and I feel as sick as a pig!!!
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