Meme, me and me again

Greetings my little bloggy chums, I'm home safely from Prague (which was lovely) and I'm now knee deep in papers to mark (which is not lovely) and I have so much to do and my house so badly needs cleaning and sorting (no change there then !) and yet I still find the time to blog (selfless to the core, I know)

Congratulations to The Edge and Mud on surviving the London Marathon, much kudos to you both. Mud has tagged me with this meme and as we all know, your auntie is a great big fat show off and compliant by nature so here's my answers. I wonder if there is anything left to find out about me ?


1.What are your current obsessions?
Theoutnet.com designer handbag and shoe porn

2. Which item from your wardrobe do you wear most often?
Do my jammies count ? No ? Probably Gap jeans, long and lean, a Petit Bateau childrens black vest (age 14) and a grey cardie currently the boyfriend one from M&S as my Gap cashmere one still hasn't been sewed up.

3. What's for dinner?
God Almighty, you sound just like my children, I don't bloody know, I only decide when the offspring start mithering me to make their tea.

4. Last thing you bought?
Assorted groceries from Sainsbury's and for myself ? that was a Starbucks mug with Prague on it.

5. What are you listening to?
New White Lies CD

6. If you were a god/goddess who would you be?
Oh come on ! The Goddess of Love of course, either Aphrodite, Venus or Isis, any of those, as always, hear me say the words, my name is auntiegwen and I am a love addict, a mush junkie extraordinaire

7. Favourite holiday spots
Places I've yet to see

8. Reading right now?
The 19th Wife by David Ebershoff, OCR exam and portfolio guidance and The Sunday Times.

9. 4 words to describe yourself.
Small, Scottish, tired and maternal

10. Guilty pleasure?
Sneaky smokes on nights out accompanied by wine (I never smoke when I'm not drinking)

11. Who or what makes you laugh until you’re weak?
Billy Connolly, Peter Kay, Frankie Boyle, The Beautiful Son

12. First spring thing?
White tulips

13. Planning to travel to next?
Probably Turkey at the half term break (if our passports come back in time, the saga of replacing the passports is another blog all to itself)

14. Best thing you ate or drank lately?
Ice cold pink champagne on Saturday night in Prague

15. When did you last get tipsy?
Sunday afternoon in Prague

16. Favourite ever film?
Gregory's Girl

17. First Love ?
I was 15 and he was 16, his name was Alan Osprey and he got called Ospur. He was a punk, had beautiful blue eyes and dark hair and was tall. I loved him wholeheartedly and was devastated when we broke up.

18. What do you most want to achieve ?
Total peace of mind and true happiness, I've had it before and I'd like it back again please.


Rules of the meme. Respond and rework. Answer questions on your own blog. Replace one question. Add one question. Tag 8 people.

I’m tagging:

Oh I don't like to name names, you know that, and I am a bit subversive, so no names no pack drill, please feel free to play along if you want to.

Have a drink, you'll need it !

I had a very stressful 53 minutes on the phone with my mother today, she is cross with my Dad getting under her feet and this is officially day 4 of his retirement. The reason for the call is that my parents want to go and stay in my house in Turkey, they go for 2 weeks every May, no problem, except this time they want to go when I'll be going at the end of May, God alone knows why they would want to inflict my grumpy self and my grumpy weans on themselves when they could have the peace and quiet,it is beyond me. I say book your flights independently online, much cheaper.

They won't be able to do it themselves so I tell my mum I'll look around for flights for her and I'll sort it out, but she wants it doing now, so as we talk I go online and find flights going from Glasgow and I ask her if they're OK, she agrees so I start to book them, as I'm doing this she starts to get anxious. She's never booked flights before like this, she goes into the travel agent and they sort it all out for her, charge her a fortune for the privilege but that's what she's used to. She's worried about how she'll get her tickets because she won't be able to go into the travel agent to pick them up, she won't rest until she's got those tickets in her hand. I tell her it's a ticketless airline, that they'll email to confirm and you print it out and show the lady at check in. I try and reassure her I book my flights like this all the time and it's fine, they really do let you on the plane. She doesn't really trust me to do this, she thinks I'll do it wrong, she doesn't say so but I can feel it.

Now she's more worried, her voice has gone up an octave and I can feel the tension coming down the phone, I say I'll use my email address and I'll print it off and post it to her, she's still not happy, so whilst I'm still on the phone to her, I get the confirmation email and forward it to my dad. I was only there 2 weeks ago so he's not had time to delete his account or forget his password (I set him up a brand new email account every visit and he still manages not to get into yahoo) but he has surpassed himself and has an invalid password. Now my mum is yelling and she's panicking her pants off she won't be able to get on the plane.

Don't worry, says I, I'll open Mum up an email account and forward the confirmation to her, so I'm still on the phone and I open up my mum an email account and make her write down the email address and the password, at this point we had to have a wee wait as she wasn't wearing the right glasses and it took a while to find the reading glasses. Eventually, after a few false starts she gets into this brand new account and the stress levels are now at breaking point. I know she's thinking that it's easier to go into a travel agent but it's much more expensive too and most people can actually book things online, not my parents obviously, but most people.

My mother does nothing to the computer except dust it and my dad is enthusiastic about it but has no clue, as I've said before, he loves gadgets but he doesn't always fully understand how they work.

So I'm trying to explain to them how to print but there is no ink in the printer (get out ! why would that be straightforward ?) so my dad says he'll change the cartridge and ring me back.

40 minutes later my mum rings me, they have managed to print off 7 copies of their confirmation, yes that's right 7.

And she's worried because the confirmation has printed in black and white but the email confirmation had red on it, will that matter ???? I repress my inner smart arse (at some cost) from telling her that they won't let her on the plane unless it's the right colour because she will believe me and she might cry.

I know she will never let me book her flights again, she won't care how much extra it costs, the stress of doing it again might kill her.

Prague here I come

Your auntie is off on a wee jolliday. I know, I'm overgiddy myself with the excitement of going anywhere that isn't school or a supermarket. Myself and 3 other women in our book group fly out to Prague on Friday. Don't roll your eyes at the thought of a book group, what else are middle aged women to do ? I do believe some MAW go salsa dancing - flighty things !

So, we are staying in this gorgeous apartment and we will arrive Friday evening and leave Sunday evening.

If you've been to Prague before and you've got any top tips or recommendations that are suitable for middle aged women on tour let me know.

Rest assured, I will be on my best behaviour, these aren't people who know the real me, they get the diet version, I'm not sure they could cope with full fat auntie !!!

Back to School, that Monday morning feeling.

At the beginning of every school holiday I used to make myself a list of all the things I was going to achieve. I sat there like a happy wee scone with my Starbucks venti size coffee mug full, in my bed on the first moning and made myself THE LIST and I'd write "TO DO" and underline it and everything.

All the little jobs that pile up in termtime as I barely have time do do the mummying, teaching/prepping/marking, cleaning, household repairs and driving them to activities. You know, for me, living is a full time job. You're probably the same yourself.

All the things like optician's appointments (although 2 of my 3 children are supposed to wear glasses and I pay exorbitant amounts for designer frames, do I think they actually use them ? I suspect not), dental check ups, smear tests (just for me, don't be alarmed), cleaning the oven, sewing buttons on etc, replacing lost school kit, having shoes re heeled, passport photos, booking a holiday etc etc etc, to get the jist of this, you could probably look at your own list, I'm sure Imaverybusymum.com would have a generic one we could all use.

Sometimes I'd even start off with a few things I'd already done just so I could draw a very satisfying line all the way through them and then at night in bed I'd strike off all the things I'd achieved, you know the kind of stuff, achieved world peace (rationed kids to 2 hours computer time each without tears, tantrums or blows), found a cure for cancer (finally, Glory be To God in The Highest, got rid of Beautiful Baby Daughter's nits),cleaned the kitchen floor.

This holiday I didn't even bother with a list, I knew I had to clean the oven, I knew the kids all needed passport photos and application forms, I knew that my beloved gap grey cashmere boyfriend cardie still has a wee tiny rent at the seam, I knew I needed a smear test, I knew I had to do a powerpoint on the Musculo skeletal system for my A level group for lesson 1 and 2 today, I knew I needed a new scheme of work for every course I teach (A level, As level, yr 10 Btec and year 12 Btec, and finally nursery nurses) I knew the whole house needed cleaning and truth be told redecorating.

And now you know what I didn't manage to achieve.

The Beautiful Son says no

I've put up a picture of my very cool dude with his long hair as it won't be long before he has his annual haircut, yep, that's right, at the beginning of the school summer holidays he gets shorn like a sheep, none of us want him to, he's gorgeous with his long hair but his choice.


It has been a strange month chez auntiegwen. No one's relationships have been running smoothly and the tension and tears have been omnipresent. Feel very sorry for my poor boy living with 3 hormonal females !!

The Beautiful Son is very popular with the local young ladies, he's funny and kind and used to talking to girls. He has no girlfriend, he has no want of a girlfriend and even though he's asked out regularly he's just not interested yet. He is in his last year at middle school and there is a leavers prom, now this is a big deal for lots of kids. Would my son be interested ? That would be a big fat no, he's not going. Is my son being asked right, left and centre to accompany some very nice young girls ? That would be a yes.

So my son has to keep saying no to people and some of them have cried, some have texted him constantly and girl A's mates berated him for "talking to other girls" and making girl A cry ! His every movement is being watched via cyberspace and real life.

He came in the other day and said to his sisters and I "No wonder none of you girls can get a boyfriend, you're all bloody mental !"

What advice can I offer him ? None, it'll probably only get worse.

Strapped on a pair... twice

Yesterday I had not 1 but 2 arguments. I didn't think that was possible in a day, being the Queen of Not Saying How Upset I Feel. People can argue with me but I rarely find the words to retort. I have a million arguments written down, you can read them if you like, my written arguments are heartfelt and eloquent and more often than not tearstained. I am good at those.

Both of these arguments were with men I used to really care about.

Argument 1 - On the phone with Gordon about how upset our son was, if one of the beautiful children are upset, then I am upset, their well being is of paramount importance to me. Gordon doesn't like to think he's less than a perfect parent and sometimes needs reminding that our son will never say how unhappy his dad makes him to his dad, no prizes for guessing which parent TBS resembles emotionally. As this situation is ongoing and unlikely to change unless Gordon knows there is a problem I rang him and told him.

I felt Gordon wasn't really listening to what I said, he was just "He was absolutely fine at my house, if he was upset, I'd know" and my mind was screaming "No you fucking wouldn't, you don't know this boy at all, you don't have the first idea of what he's like"

so I told him

and I told him some more

and some more

and I left him with no doubt as to his behaviour and the disparity of the way he treats and deals with the younger 2 children (EBD has refrained from visiting his house)

and he was very cross with me. My reaction - too fucking bad, I should have let you have it years ago.

Now normally this would have left me tearful, anxious and unable to sleep.

No tears, no anxiety and then at bedtime, straight to sleep.



Argument 2 - I was awoken by a text message from the person I have just been in a relationship with. The message was about him hearing Sharleen singing "Should I stay or should I go " and it making him think of me. I took umbrage at this, waking me up to have a cheap pop at me, I tried really hard in that relationship, I really did. People who know and care about me have been telling me for months to walk away but I tried to hold it together until I just couldn't anymore. I appreciate it felt like the longest break up in history but I can assure you I tried my very best to make it work.

So instead of saying nothing as is my wont, I answered back and after arguing back and forth by text he apologized for waking me up and assured me there was nothing in his remark other than he heard her sing and thought of me.

Welcome to the new slightly improved version of me. I deserve to be happy and if you are doing something that is impinging on my happiness then I'm going to tell you. We can then work out a way to deal with this that we can both live with. Or you can leave my life.

You couldn't make it up...

I met a very interesting man this weekend, we talked, laughed and really connected. He asked me for my blog address as he wanted to read me. I didn't give him it. I was being on my very best behaviour and was trying to be the cool, witty, collected and sophisticated version of me that I can, on occasion, pull off. You know the one that you show to people you want to impress. The blog version of me tends to show me at my least glamorous self.

And as if to prove my point...

This morning I was greeted by this sight within my fridge. A Whittards of Chelsea carrier bag containing 2 tubs of Flora Light with a note stapled to it, reading " I am butter, Please love me xxx"

Welcome to the randomness that is my life, enjoy, smile and be grateful it's not yours !!

My Mother says no

I've just got back from The Mother Country, as I keep telling NB I have to get back regularly to top up the accent. We met up and went for a pizza last week and he told me my voice was wrong ! When he reads me, in his head, I sound like a Surrey housewife, I ask you? A Surrey housewife ! would you give yourself peace !!!!

Anyhoo, I've been hame tae my mammies for a feed and a spoiling. The Beautiful Parents are very well and my gadget mad Dad is counting the days till he retires on April 16th. My dad has counted down since Easter last year and has masses of ideas of what he would want to do with his time. My parents have always said they would move when my dad retires and he would very much like to live in a traditional red sandstone tenement flat, so would I actually, the rooms are enormous and if you get one with a view of a park, it's just heaven.

My mother says no, she doesn't want neighbours above, below or sharing a wall with her.

My dad would adore a trip to Hong Kong and to travel around the far East, he loves the culture and the art and literature and is itching to explore there.

My mother says no, 4 hours is her maximum flying time and she has no notion to go anywhere so foreign.

My dad would like to get a dog, he fancies a wee westie, he always had one before he met my mother.

My mother says no, she doesn't want the responsibility of one.

My dad would like to buy a new car, the one they have is fairly old.

My mother says no, she likes it, she's used to the cd controls !!! and there's nothing wrong with it.

The strange thing about this is, if you met my mum bossy and assertive are the last things you would call her, she's so keen to please and would do anything for you. I am stunned that she's being so dogmatic about this. It was a very surreal visit, they usually just rub along together, he works and buys gadgets and she gently moans about it. I am certain that the thought of them being together 24 hours a day is preying on both their minds, I'm sure they're both trying to mark out territory and I'd lay money on my dad finding himself a part time job by October.

Not 1 but 2

I read in The Telegraph that having a sister made you happier

So kind and generous to a fault Mummy that I am, I provided 2 of these bounteous gifts to my darling only son.

Does he appreciate the magnificence of the gesture ?

I think not.

As others see us

Lots of my lovely blog matey's have made it into the top 100 British Mummy Blogger awards,so take a bow Tim, Mob, NB and Working Mum, and lots more that I read but don't know (vitually) if I've forgotten to applaud any other blog matey, I apologize.

When looking at my google searches (what ?, I have no life, I don't watch telly and I need something to keep me occupied)) I thought that despite me knowing that my life is all about being a Mummy, maybe others don't actually see me as a Mummy type figure.

When I look at the Google searches that bring the unwary to me, I get an inkling as to why. They mainly seem to be about curse words and tell offs, Milf's and blow jobs.

I can't imagine why I didn't make the cut !!!!!

Recipe for a perfect weekend

You take a blonde and a brunette (don't bother clicking on the brunette link, for it is me, your auntie)

You start drinking at wine o'clock, you intersperse this with pizza, sneaky smokes and more wine till 3am.

You do talk about shoes and boys (pinched shamelessly from a text sent by my best matey boy The Edge asking how my head was, he knows me of old !)

You laugh and laugh and laugh about life and love.

You get up the next day and by some miraculous miracle, you have no hangover, Glory be to God in the highest and the sun is shining.

You go out for brunch and the blonde manages to get her favourite Eggs Benedict and the brunette manages to have a big fat stack of pancakes with maple syrup and the sun continues to shine.

You realise that life is good, friendship is brilliant and being happy with your lot is priceless.

Strange Questions I have been asked in the last week

I get asked questions all the time, you probably do yourself. A lot of mine start "Mummeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, where are my ... ?" or the plaintive "Can I have something to eat ?" or the omnipresent demands for cash for school trips, smart cards, sponsored silences etc etc etc.

I also get asked for advice, people asking me what to do next. But this week work has thrown up child abuse and domestic violence for me to deal with and truth be told, every time I close my eyes to go to sleep I see the faces of those who've confided in me, it's giving me insomnia and nightmares but feck knows that's nothing to what they're going through.

But as ever in the midst of all the mayhem, there have been a few humorous questions thrown my way.

Does my face look like it belongs to me ? - from my EBD. It did but she'd forgotten to put her lipgloss on

Can you be a Tory and dislike the Daily Mail ? - text from my ex's teenage son

Why is todays Google the very hungry caterpillar ? - text from IT God.

Is being 20 any good ? - a student, I don't know I'm 42, I've forgotten

If I get an A in my exam, will you buy BBD a hamster ? - another student who is also BBD's Girls Brigade Leader.

Will you tell my daughter to stop being on facebook till the early hours of the morning ? - a parent, okay will you tell mine ?

A Little Puzzle For me

I do spend most of my life in a bemused state, I'm not quite confused but puzzled is probably an adjective you could use to describe me on a daily basis.

Despite a fine pair of ovaries (which we all know are a locating device situated in the pelvis) I quite often find myself searching for my keys and increasingly often an umbrella, I keep buying umbrellas but I never seem to have 1 when I need it.

Forgetfullness is becoming a kicker too, I know that to avoid the poly bag Nazi's in Sainsbury's I have to take my own bags with me, do I remember even once in the 82 visits I make a week ? That would be no.

But this week's puzzle ?

My boobs have gotten bigger, a whole cup size, how the hell did that happen ?

ps I'm not putting boobs in the tag's, can you imagine what that'd do to my Google searches ? !

Things your mother says

Okay, how many of these did your mammy say to you ? And how many do you now say yourself ?

Would you give yourself peace !

I know I only have my self to blame what with frankly misguided tag lines of "anal sex" and mention of peloops and google sex searches but it's getting silly now. Somebody's going to be spending quite a lot of time on the naughty step and I can and will use my cross voice.

This morning before coffee, I got an email from an unknown person and it read

"You seem like a bit of a challenge, do you type one handedly ?"

Apologies again to Shirley's daughters and to Grandma in Cyprus, this blog is going to hell, it used to have a far more wholesome tone.

So tell me what you want, what you really really want

I got my first dirty email via my blog today. Someone calling himself Fit Boy sent me a photo of himself and a very cryptic message...

"You want my cock in you ?"

Strangely enough, no

A week in numbers

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How the hell did that happen ?

Seventeen years ago today, I began my real career, as a Mummy, it's the one I've enjoyed the most and the one in which my achievements mean the most.

One minute I was in the labour ward gazing into my newborn baby daughters eyes and the proud daddy was saying " I can't believe it was that quick and that easy" yes, he indeedily did, oh there's plenty more where that came from and then the next minute she was 17.

This is the 3rd birthday blog I have written for her and she remains a daily delight. She is as enthusiatic and distractable as when she was 3 and still claps her hands in glee when something good happens. One of my favourite memories is of her magic finger, she used to think her index finger on her right hand could do anything, in the car she would wave it to make the car go faster and we'd drive quicker and to make the rain stop and the sun come out and if her magic finger didn't work, she'd look at it thoughtfully and announce "it must've run out of batteries"

Just after I found out I was pregnant, Gordon and I were on a beach and we watched a beautiful little girl around 18 months old playing in the sand. She had dark curly hair peeking our from under a sun bonnet and we said, ooh, we want one just that and we got one, even more beautiful. We said we hoped to give her the best of everything and I hope as she grows up she realises that materially she may not have had the best of everything but emotionally she did.

She is my beautiful shining star, one of the main reasons I get up every morning and my heart, mo chridhe.

Product review, anyone ?

I've just started getting spam emails, I get a lot of very earnest Africans needing my assistance on withdrawing their money from their bank via my bank, I apparently am the next of kin of a respected businessman who died in a plane crash in Burkina Faso, funny that the respected businessman I am next of kin to was alive and well this very morning and I know my memory is not what it was but if I've slipped up and gone and gotten married again I can think of 2 men who are going to be quite cross with me.

I have also been offered quite a lot of viagra but this very day I've just been offered a product review for my blog, ooh thinks the auntie, wouldn't that be gas if it was shoes or lipgloss? I could give up teaching and tippy tappy type my way through the merits of double strapped Mary-Janes against the original single strapped or happily spend hours snogging people to see if the long last lipgloss is totally kissproof.

Unfortunately, I am unable to take up this fantastic free offer due to me not having the correct equipment but any of my fellow bloggers who have and would like to review this new product please click here

Make sure you let Mr Omar Long, the company owner know that auntiegwen sent you.

Things I Never Thought I'd Say

In a lesson on the anatomy and physiology of the digestive system

AG - in a questioning tone " Function of the anus ?"

Year 13 student trying hard to contain laughter "bum sex ?"

AG - "For the purposes of passing your A level, sexual pleasure would not be a function of the anus. You wouldn't get a mark for that. Biologically speaking, it is a one way street.

As others see you

Now I'm the first to admit that as a teenager my dress sense verged on the adventurous, my mammy was mortified on a daily basis by the cut of my jib. But now, grown up (stop laughing or you'll go on the naughty step) teachery auntiegwen looks like a grown up teacher at her work. I do so.

We have a new teacher covering a maternity leave at our school. I cannot see this man without dissolving into snorts and peals of laughter, I mean the real deal, I've had 3 children and my pelvic floor's not what it was type of laughter. I am not the only member of staff to feel this way, you can always tell when he's entered the staff room just by the suppressed laughter.He looks like he got dressed in the dark. I am no longer allowed to go to the daily staff briefings because I cannot control myself and make a holy show of our department.

I so wish I could take a photo but I will try and make do with words.

He is of indeterminate age, could be anywhere from mid 30's to 40's

Around 5 feet 7

Black hair, none on top, just around the edges, it's slicked with brylcream or some such unguent, it's very shiny.

He is like an Easter egg with legs, that shape.

But it's the clothes, I feel so mean laughing but Holy Mary Mother of God, I've never seen the cut of anything like it, but in our school ? Where American tan tights and Farah slacks are sent to die.

Every day he wears and I mean every day (we all look out for him and email each other when we've got his daily dress report)
tight black trousers that end 2 inches above his ankle
a belt that says "God" on the buckle
Cuban heeled boots at least 2 or 3 inches high
but the piece de resistance, are you ready ? can you take it ?

Satin shirts, yep, you read right, they are satin with quite a full bell effect sleeve and he has a powerful number of them, I have spotted lilac, red, tangerine, mustard yellow and a electric BLUE one, yep it wasn't blue it was BLUE. When he does playground duty and it's cold he tops off this ensemble with a duffel coat.

And round the school he goes, not a bother on him,like a refugee from Strictly Come Dancing, God love him. I kind of expect him to start doing a Paso Doble in the corridor, or to click his heels together and swish his duffel coat like a matadors cape. I'm sure he's worth getting to know, it takes a certain strength of character to dress so bizarrely and when I can stop laughing I'm going to see if he wants to be friends.

26 - 6

A very good afternoon for your auntie. The Beautiful Son and myself watching the rugby. I need him with me as he explains every touch of the ball to me, I don't get it otherwise. Scotland won and so did Ireland. I have a strict preference in who I support, it goes like this

Scotland - because I'm Scottish
Ireland - because my mammy is Irish
France - because I love France (and Chabal and Szarzewski aren't too shabby)
Wales - because they're Celtic

I cannot support any other teams, so give out to me if you like, I know I live in England but I can't and won't support them and if that makes me a bad person so be it.

But what a day for me, my fave 2 teams winning and Ireland still on for the grand slam. I have lost my voice, I have screamed and I mean screamed like the big fat girl I am all afternoon. If you've been with me for a while, you'll know I have an irrational prejudice against Italians, I can't help it, okay I don't want to help it, I hate the feckers.

I really hated them last year with that wee fecker and his drop goal 40 seconds from time, but today was glorious, 26-6 and Simon Danelli and his beautiful try. I am so happy.

Things I have found out

Learning to cook and type would have been much more useful to me in life than knowing the chemical formula for potassium and how to calculate the area of a triangle. The cooking and the typing I have to do daily, needing to recite the periodic table, algebra, trigafeckinometry or geometry, em that would be never in the 25 feckin years since I left school. Guidance teacher, too bright for food and nutrition and secretarial studies ? my arse.

Why was I so keen to leave home and have my own place ? what I wouldn't give to have a daily cleaning, laundry, cooking, fridge filling, cash point and taxi service now. Mammy, I'm sorry I was a heart scald to you, you were right, I didn't know I was born (translation how lucky I was)

Anti wrinkle creams whether they cost £10 or £100 do not remove wrinkles. Baking yourself in Ambre Solaire oil (in the brown bottle) may have been the kicker there. I can honestly remember thinking I'd rather be brown now and to hell with when I'm 40... not so happy about my choices now.

Teenage boys are incredibly good at fixing things if you let them have a go. This saves you quite a lot of money. Ciaran fixed my cupboard door, Alex my leaking radiator and joecryor the outside light and the printer. When these boys go to uni next year I'm getting married again, I have a year to find a man and make him propose, don't tell him about the failed grown up stuff or the weans, let him think I'm normal first, I do a good first impression and I'll lure him into a false sense of security. I know it's not pretty or ethical, it's survival.

Love doesn't conquer all, even if you both love each other, you may not be good for each other. I can't love someone enough to make it all better, I used to think I could.

Having 3 children in 4 and a half years may not have been one of my better ideas, it was tough enough when they were younger and needed so much care, I have now realised that I might have a year where all 3 of them are at University and how will I fund that ? Answers on a postcard please or email auntiegwen@iamfeckinskint.com

The 3rd glass makes me sick, repeat to fade...

Addictions and Awards

Your auntie has had a wee bit bling bestowed upon her by the very facinating with a fascinator Flick at Dusting Spiders.

I have to tell you of my 5 addictions, there are lots of things in my life I adore but these are things (not people) that I could not bear to have in my life daily.

The Internet - I spend way too much time online, blogging, emailing, researching work stuff etc, I read loads of horoscopes too, I know I'm a sad article.

Coffee - I drink way too much, at home it's instant Marks and Spencer Fairtrade gold roast. In Starbucks it's venti skinny latte with cinnamon on or in summer venti coffee light frappucino. I am overly happy if someone else makes it for me.

Love - completely and utterly, my name is auntiegwen and I am a big fat love junkie.

Reading - my mammy taught me when I was 3 and I've never given up reading, can always be found with at least 2 books on the go and love my book group. At present reading Marian Keyes "This Charming Man" Fiona Neill "The Secret Life of a Slummy Mummy" and I should be reading the Barak Obama autobiographies as book group is on the 4th and I've to read both of his !

High heels - I always wear high heels, every single day, I do not possess a pair of flat shoes. This is because I am tiny, about 5 foot 3, but strangely I only seem to date tall men. Only once have I dated someone less than 6 foot. So I am completely addicted to my heels, I have been known to photograph new ones on my phone, I even show them to people, much to their bemusement. I can give good shoe porn should you be interested...

So my lovelies, I can't pick 5 of you, I don't want to hurt anyones feelings, so feel free to do the tag and take the bling because I love reading all your blogs.

Bite Size Belfast

Despite the fact I have had only about 5 hours sleep in the last 2 days I am a happy and contented auntie.

Belfast was lovely, small, friendly and easy to get round, my kind of place. We did a fair old bit of the eating and the drinking and the sightseeing. We went to the Shankhill Road ( very protestant and British) and the Falls Road (very Catholic and Irish) to see some of the murals and I've taken masses of pictures of them but have restrained myself from posting them all.




To get from Shankhill Road to Falls Road we walked along Northumberland Avenue, which looks like a very nondescript road bordering industrial units. The thing that makes this one different is the fact that it has 50 feet high impenetrable metal gates with barbed wire atop which are used to separate the Shankhill from the Falls during the marching season. They regularly have to close the road to stop the 2 estates fighting. This may seem incredulous to some readers but in Belfast, Catholics and Protestants still fight over religion.




Coming from Glasgow as I do, I am well aware of bigotry and it's a very strange thing to try and explain and comprehend. I grew up Catholic but married a Protestant and I had to change faith. I have no wish to offend anyone's beliefs so I've tried to be careful what images I show. It was an unsettling walk



After a lovely Starbucks visit, where they gave us free have a drink on us vouchers to come back, how good is that ? We spent a wee whiley exploring the University quarter, which is really lovely, great little bars, restaurants and cafes and of course the very beautiful Queens University.



Quick shower and change then out for the evening. Many thanks to The Dotterell for this tip



And then on to the real reason for the visit




When I got home I found children all well, ex husband had done the ironing and had made me a pot of soup and I'd had a delivery when I was away.



So to my lovely friend, who sent me these flowers because they knew I've been down and having a hard time, I thank you most sincerely. My friends are the best and I do appreciate it. Like I always say, I AM a lucky, lucky girl.