I've been a good girl, I have

This weeks total of bad behaviour

I have eaten a whole Fruit and Nut toblerone, bought to accompany the viewing of my new Sex and The City DVD.

Out on Wednesday night, 3 glasses of pink fizzy, no sneaky fags, no snogging.

Out on Friday night, 2 Gin and Tonics, 1 sneaky fag, no snogging.

Out on Saturday night, 1 glass of pink, 2 and a half sneaky fags, copious amounts of snogging, on the rooftop terrace of a bar and then (hangs head in shame) more snogging on the back seat of a BMW (I know,everybody hates BMW drivers but I can't escape them, only BMW drivers find me attractive)

BUT

I have ran twice (to combat the fruit and nut toblerone)

I went to church this morning for Harvest festival, so I think overall, your auntie has behaved quite well this week.

Clothes Maketh The Woman

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a woman in posession of a credit card, must be in want of a shop (or 6)

My name is auntiegwen and I am a shopper, not to Olympic standard like the daughters but I'm not too shabby.

I like clothes and shoes and handbags but I'm not particularly adventurous, I tend to buy the same types of things. I have in my posession 4 grey cardigans, I'm too scared to count my Petit Bateau childrens vests (age 12) and my jeans (Gap) so regular me is jeans, vest tops and a cardie, I am very fond of my grey cashmere Gap one and also my new long boyfriend one from M and S.

Due to a change in hours and timetabling I have to be smart 4 days per week now, I used to only have to do 2, that's hard. I'm of an age (you probably noticed) and I want to look stylish but not old enough to know better, and that's becoming tricky, I'm not ready to look like a middle aged woman. I think because from age 18 to 33 I didn't have to think about work clothes because I was in a nurses uniform, so I do casual well, I'm told I scrub up well in my posh going out stuff but work ????

At school, my students really do critique what I wear and my fondness for wrap around DVF style dresses (2 black, long sleeved and sleeveless, 1 black and red, 1 black and grey and 2 green) makes Eldest Beautiful Daughter call me a refugee from a Boden catalogue. Incidentally these draw the most comments from staff, last week I got 3 compliments in my green Boden wrap round. Students tend to like trouser and long cardi combo's.

Yesterday I went off in black trousers, a fitted white shirt and a black waistcoat and I was feeling very what smart until Rik, my head of department said " Looking smart today, auntie, off to referee a snooker match at lunchtime ? "

No, but I'm off shopping today to find smart, stylish, age appropriate clothes that are as comfy as my jeans, vest top and cardi combos, am I asking too much ?

Again, with feeling, I am a lucky, lucky girl

You know how I always tell you, I'm a lucky lucky girl ?

Well, I am.

I'm alive, healthy and not too insolvent (credit card bill this month under a grand, yes, that is for a month, what can I do ?, the kids keep eating and demanding new kit for all the myriad of activities they collectively partake of, oh alright I bought shoes and some fancy knickers too)

I had a blissful Saturday night.

Today, the beautiful children and I went to Pizza Express for lunch and to see The Boy in Striped Pyjamas at the cinema. This is a delicately acted film with real pathos about the unlikely friendship between two little boys, one the son of a high ranking Nazi and the other a Jewish concentration camp inmate. My girls and I cried buckets at the end, and when we were walking from the cinema, my beautiful son put his arm around my shoulders and kept it there all through town to the car park.

I am really and truly blessed, I've never known real hardship in my life, I've never been persecuted for my ideas or beliefs, I've never been hungry and I've always had a home and I've always had love.

I love my life, I love the very bones of my children, I have people to care about and people who care about me and my children are safe, well and happy. That's not too shabby is it ? Trust me, I am unbelievably grateful for it.

Because Tom Foolery asked me to...

Here you have regular auntiegwen, albeit in her best frock before a night out, taken in my friend Melanie's bedroom.




Now scroll down to see me do my Sarah Palin inpersonation, using Mel's glasses this time.

Black Boxes

Go me, I managed to add something to my blog.

Have a go, click on the black box and see where it takes you, but I warn you, it's more addictive than fruit and nut toblerones, and that's saying something !!!

ps in a techie kind of way, can someone help me to do a click on the word thingy so you can all read himself's proper review of the Glasvegas gig, because it's worth reading, he's very clever, and he writes well too.

Glasvegas at The Plug

Last night we went to see Glasvegas at The Plug in Sheffield. They're a band from Glasgow and have become very special to us. This was a romantic gesture from himself to me and the gig meant a lot to us. Strange band to be romantic to but hey, we wouldn't be any other way.

Apologies for the plentiful swearing, it may not be everyones cup of tea but I love them, they're raw and I'm from Glasgow and an ex punk, I can cope with a bit swearing.

I won't wax lyrical
a because I can't and
b because himself wants to write about it when he remembers his blogger password.

So I'll give you the non music bits and less considered prose.

I had to translate quite a bit,eg a square go means a challenge to a fight, himself hasn't been blessed and isn't Scottish like me, so some of our more quaint sayings bemuse him. I did think that most of the audience had no clue what the band were trying to say.

He took me to see the Fuck the English, Scotland the Brave graffiti that was a kind of make up gesture after a little disagreement.

I lost 1 of my best earrings (Gucci, white gold, I know I'm sad about that too, no I don't know why I wore them either)

From the fountains to the carpark, I had a blast and there is no one else I'd have wanted to see them with.

So please click on the logo Glasvegas and read the proper review.

Sarah Palin

Ok, what gives ?

Why do men of a certain age find her attractive ? Just about every man I know is drooling over her. Even my drunkety, drunk, drunk co conspirator.

Yesterday, I sneaked off work and met him for lunch. I wore a sexy black suit with a tight pencil skirt, the infamous LKB shoes, stuck my hair up again and borrowed The Beautiful Son's glasses.

Putty in my hands.

Could this be a new career for me ? Would people pay money for this ?

Drunkety, drunk, drunk...again

Saturday evening

Friend's 40th (quite a special friend)

Out in town, 3 coats of mascara and hair up, was told I was looking "foxy", also had been informed that I was irresistable , this was a good week for your auntie, premium quality mush was coming my way.

Copious amounts of flirting, truly outrageous amounts, not behaving age appropriately AT ALL, in fact, behaving very badly in 1 bar, your auntie was definitely on a promise

3 glasses of the pink stuff, I kid you not, only 3

1 cheeky/sneaky fag, of the regular variety

1 extremely dizzy auntiegwen

Ashamed to say, did actually vomit, in public, I know, the shame of it, on my sexy L.K.Bennett £129 shoes too !

Was taken home

Managed to take clothes off, brush teeth and put myself to bed, alone, in my fancy underwear, which didn't get the appreciation it deserved on the cost per wear aspect.

Fell fast asleep

Birthday friend waited for an hour

Birthday friend then drove home ( miles away, at least 40 miles) but phoned several times to check on me

Still fast asleep, didn't answer any calls or return texts

Was awakened by friend, next morning, who's driven back because they've spent the whole night worrying about me

Lovely friend didn't yell at me for spoiling evening, or worrying them half to death, even brought me my coffee in bed.

I didn't even have the decency to be hung over !

Again, I apologize for my outrageous behaviour, I spend a lot of time apologizing ! usually to the same person. I have to face sad facts, I am going to have to grow up.

Susan

This is a sad post, best to warn you now in case you're not up for it.

The Beautiful Mother has a best friend called Susan, she's the friend you have to call Auntie even though she's not. My Mum and Susan have been friends for years and she's been there all the way through my teens (and tantrums) and now into my middle age (slightly less tantrums). My parents and Susan and John spent masses of time together especially now since myself and my sister and Susan and John's 2 sons have grown up. My Mum sees her every day.

Susan is very bright, articulate, stylish and on the money, she is a serial entrepeneur and a real force to be reckoned with. She's great fun and has always been a fantastic friend and support to my family, she's always been there. My sister is very close to her and when my sister was getting engaged Susan gave her her own engagement ring as she has no daughter, she's that kind.

Susan's mum Margaret developed Polycystic Kidney Disease and went on dialysis when I was in High School. My Mum and Susan set up a branch of the British Kidney Patients Association as there was no local one and raised shed loads of money. Margaret had 2 transplants which both sadly failed and she died after a long struggle with the disease whilst only in her 60's.

Susan and her brothers were both tested as PKD is an inherited disease, both brothers were clear but Susan tested positive, in 2003 her kidneys began to fail and Susan went on dialysis. The last 5 years have been so incredibly tough for her family, Susan chose not to go on the transplant list because of what her own mother went through, so every night she would hook up her bags and dialyse through the night, living with a chronic disease takes a big toll on everyone but they were managing.

Over the last year, Susan has become increasingly unwell, she is unrecognizable from the woman she really is and has been unable to move around without a zimmer frame and when she goes out she needs one of them old lady scooter things, my mum is a dab hand and dismantling and re assembling them. Her quality of life has taken a complete nose dive. Her husband has had to give up their very successful business and now works part time locally and my mum goes in when he is at work.

Susan has spent the last 3 weeks in hospital, last week her heart stopped but she was resuscitated. She is so incredibly tired and yesterday when my mum went to see her, she told her of her decision to stop dialysis, she will only live for a week or two maximum without it.

She feels she doesn't want to just exist and that she has no quality of life, she will leave behind a husband, 2 sons one of whom's partner is expecting their first baby and my mum. I wonder how they feel. Numb, probably.

She's only 52.

The Best Laid Plans

Let me set the scene for you, try and paint you a picture...

Monday morning

Lesson 3 finishing at 11.40 am in 1 part of the college and lesson 4 also starting at 11.40 in the opposite part of college. Note to self, perfect art of time travel asap. Lesson lasts for 50 minutes.

22 new year 10 students (age 14)- these are the youngest in our school having just joined from middle school.

1 table of girls who will have to be split up at next lesson, too mouthy and sparking each other off. Find out later, mouthiest was expelled from last school.

New classroom

New tables which can have their top tilted up for stacking against the walls, have a kind of bar thing underneath which keeps them stable, this is easily dislodged when they put their knees under the desk. I like knees under the desk, I feel it's the only place to put them in a classroom setting.

Store cupboard containing textbooks, pens, paper etc, locked and key not on hook in our office as is it's want, key in lesson 3 teachers pocket, lesson 3 teacher gone who knows where? for a fag and/or a gin? nah,more boringly, probably to lesson 4.

Teacher computer has no keyboard, can't log in and take register, take paper register, will use office PC after lesson. Tech feckin ology.

All 22 students have to get a laptop out of the lap safe, double locked but with key fortunately. All 22 students have to have laptop log signed by me to ensure we know who's broken what laptop. Cynicism thy name is Gwen.

As students are so new, lots of their personal log in's don't work, advise them to go to IT support at lunchtime. Note to self, avoid or bribe IT technician ? can't remember what strategy used last term.

Re-arrange students so they can at least share a computer, look at clock 20 minutes of lesson gone. Feeling slightly hot now, and not in a good way.

Ask students to get out homework co teacher has set as this forms basis for my lesson. Resist urge to make smart arse derogatory comment on the odds of a clean sweep.

8 students out of 22 have done as requested, get them started on task.

Get 14 students who didn't do homework to start homework in my lesson.

Table dislodges and tilts, fortunately laptop falls onto student and not floor.

Miraculously some work actually gets done by some students. Not much, but I'm grateful for small mercies, hey I'm middle aged I take what I can get at all times.

Wasp flies in window, CHAOS ensues, students scream, (especially the 3 mouthy ones at back table) jump up and try and run away, room very cramped, chairs get knocked, someone trips over a bag.

I tell them to sit down and keep still, I'm accused of not caring if they're stung, they're right, I hope several wasps come in and sting them right on their gobs, I have a split second vision of a cloud of bees surrounding the challenging students heads, bad auntiegwen bad, I'm only worried that the brand new laptops will fall on the floor in the melee.

Look at clock, 7 minutes left of lesson, finally admit defeat.

Collect in all 22 laptops, checking for damage and sign log to say they're ok.

Class leave.

Big sigh from me.

Look at the all singing all dancing, shiny, hopeful, well balanced and carefully thought out lesson plan, with differentiation and everything. I swear it smirked at me.

Game's a bogie.

Aawh, the nice

The Beautiful Son had all his long floppy hair cut off in the first week of the school holidays. I was kinda sad as I liked his long hair but he made the decision and off it came.

He returned to school on Thursday and on Thursday night he received a text. This was from a girl who has been keen on him since last September, she really is a lovely girl but girls are just not on his radar yet. Fair play to her, she's kept up this texting for a year, she's patient, she's loyal and she's obviously prepared to play a long game. I like her already.

The text said " I like your new haircut, it reminded me of a baby bird, all sweet and fluffy"

Just what my rugby playing, jackass video making, electric guitar playing, Linkin Park, Foo Fighters and Nirvana adoring, wanna be alpha male, teenage son wants to be compared to !

Dublin

The happy happy day FINALLY arrived, whaddya mean, what happy day ?

The day the mummy and the lara went to see the mighty Killers, silly




A middle aged woman who's old enough to know better and an over excited teenager went to the airport. Aren't you glad you weren't sitting beside us ? Both giddy with excitement but she'd had a fair ammount of sugar as well.



We arrived in Dublin, got a bus into the city centre and started exploring. I asked her to hold the map for me as I had the bags, she stuck it in her pocket and lost it 20 seconds later ! This was to be a recurring theme. I've been to Dublin lots, this was the EBD first time, she loved it, she really really likes accents and she likened it to being in Glasgow with the humour and random people talking to you. We went to Bewley's for lunch and saw some sights before off to the hotel to get changed for the gig. We got another map from the hotel and found our way to where the concert buses were leaving. Great great craic on the bus out. When we got to Marlay Park, they were giving out free lollies and pink wigs, I confess I did take a lolly.




On arrival, I rolled up my jeans and prepared to get my flip flops muddy, this was a real chore for herself as my poor baby has a phobis about feet, she hates them, even her own but I have no wellies, so I reckoned I'd just wash the mud off afterwards. There was a lot of muttering about how daft it was not to be wearing converse but at the end of the night, hers were trashed (yet another pair bites the dust) and I could wash my feet. A pint of lager helped her through this trauma.




Your auntie got a wee bit excited at having her merlot in a field in a plastic glass, classy eh ?






The atmosphere was simply amazing, we met a really nice couple of guys from Preston, they were great company, my age, and we smiled a few times at the antics of the very boisterous Irish crowd that Lara was befriended by. The older couple of guys were kind enough to give Lara their ticket as yes, you guessed it, she lost ours out of her pocket when she was crowd surfing, and she keeps all her tickets as minders.We really were lucky to meet such a lovely crowd of young lads, 1 of whom was a physio student in Edinburgh, they were great craic and stuck us on their shoulders for a better view, this is a very happy daughter during "All these things that I have done"



This concert was brilliant, The Killers were amazing, a short set but worth every penny of the £500 in total that I spent. The very first song that they played was " For Reasons Unknown" which some of you may know is the theme tune for my new life. I had said to the people we met I didn't care what they played as long as that was on. It was just magical, especially as it was the first song, just like it was meant for me. Going to this concert was the first thing I've done in a long time that was just for me, a real piece of selfishness, when they played the opening bars, Lara just looked at me and we screamed together and then started moshing like mad. I have to say that that was the best 4 minutes of my life. Really and truly, so I apologize to anyone who has had a 4 minute moment with me, you didn't make the cut.

PLEASE PLEASE click on the wee thingy, share with me the best 4 minutes of my life.



The whole thing was brilliant, I enjoyed Bloc Party but I was only there for The Killers, and I wish I could put into words how fantastic it was for me.

After the concert we waited an hour in a queue for the bus back into Dublin city centre but as always the great craic kept us mightily entertained. As herself had lost the map again, when we got off the bus as we were both wiped and it was after 1 am, we got a taxi back to the hotel. This was the best 10 euro I have ever spent as the taxi driver should have been doing stand up at the Edinburgh Festival. He was very non PC but hysterically funny, he kept going on about us paying good money to stand "like knackers in a field" paying over the odds for crap beer " up to your tits in mud" in the strongest Dub accent you've ever heard. When we got back it took me ages to get the mud off my feet but eventually I was clean enough for herself and I was allowed to get into the bed.


At breakfast, she decided she would bring home the Matthew (chief matey boy, well beloved of both the Mummy and the Lara) a pot of jam and donate the pink wig of the night before. The Lara decided it would be a gas laugh if we did a little tour of Dub with the jam and the pink wig.




The mummy was a bit concerned about walking around with the Lara in a pink wig and a pot of jam but found it easier just to accept what she couldn't understand.




We took Matthew's jam sightseeing, he went to Starbuck's in O' Connell St, to visit Molly Malone's statue, to St Stephen's Green and to Trinity College.




Finally, just before we went to the airport we took Matthew's jam for a Guiness.

The rules according to me

I have decided to publish this set of rules in the interests of clarity and fair play. Just so there's no misunderstanding and when I put on my cross voice and give you my "I'm very disappointed in you face"

The Beautiful Children Rules

Stop feckin fighting with each other and for my time and attention, you are wearing me out. When I am on the phone, leave the room, you are not an enhancement to my conversation. If I am going out do not give me an interrogation that the CIA would be proud of, accept my vague explanation of me going to see a friend without demanding proof of who where when and why, I am fortyfeckintwo and I am entitled to a teeny tiny bit of privacy. You are not allowed to drink, smoke, take drugs, listen to crap music or have sex until you are 18, I would prefer 36 but I am a reasonable woman. The caveat to this includes 18 and not living with me. Wait till you get to University and knock yourself out.

The Beautiful Children's friends aka The Matey Boys rules

I do not wish to see your pants - ever. If you wish to wear your trousers just below your arse, when with me ensure you have a long enough t shirt to cover them. You are not allowed to have inappropriate thoughts about me, I will never entertain you, I have tea towels older than you and it grosses out Eldest Beautiful Daughter.

The Beautiful House rules

Don't break things, occasionally try and investigate what the Dyson does, do not put empty things back into the fridge or cupboard, lock the door when you leave and never poo in the downstairs loo or even worse my ensuite.


The Beautiful Students rules

No visible pants allowed (see TBC friends rules for further explanation if necessary). Do not use your mobile in lessons, if I catch you doing so I will speak to the other person and embarass you mightily. If I catch you texting I will read your most entertaining messages aloud to the class. If you are MSN ing or facebooking or myspacing, prepare to be ripped apart, I have a pithy wit and I'm not afraid to use it in print. No gum allowed, I don't like it. I will only allow Ipod usage when I am not speaking and only if I can find something on your ipod that I would personally listen to. I cannot bear and will not allow the phrases "innit, well good/bad or huh." This may be added to from time to time depending on your behaviour, language and demeanor and what time of the month it is or how TBC are behaving.

I am thinking of having the students rules printed up and distributed at the beginning of term as I am a middle aged woman with too much time and access to a laminator ( little in joke for sixy and her partner, it's a fab quote pinched shamelessly from him)

There I give you the law and gospel accoring to St Gwen. We should have no problems now.

Smile, Mummy

I was going out on Friday evening as was Eldest Beautiful Daughter. I was going to the local pub, so local I can see my front room from their beer garden and Eldest Beautiful Daughter was going to a fancy dress birthday party.

EBD went as Magenta Devine from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. For the uninitiated, a big fave film of mine and EBD (taught her everything she knows, esp the bad, age inappropriate stuff)
Magenta basically looks like a French Maid, very short black puffball dress, white apron, black fishnets, black Mary Janes (EBD are double strapped) and madly backcombed hair and lashings of mascara and black eyeliner. To be fair, it's not madly different from her normal Emo ish going out look.

The dress in question she uses is 3 years old and EBD had grown a lot in height over the last 3 years. I did mention this fact in a vaguely concerned mummy type fashion that that was what every Mummy wanted her very beautiful 16 year old daughter to be cutting about on a Friday night dressed like a French Maid and that I hoped she had on a sturdy pair of pants, my preference would have been for her to be wearing The Beautiful Son's black rugby shorts. Herself just laughed at me and said " Silly Mummy, pat the silly Mummy" and she pats me on the head, she is way taller than me, she does this a lot as it makes me howl with laughter and usually allows her to escape my displeasure/annoyance/telling off etc etc.

So off she goes and I get into the shower, when I'm all wet I reach for my shaving gel and razor, only to find them not there. EBD has come in to my ensuite and nicked my shaving gear, and has left it in the children's bathroom. This is not the first time and it really really annoys me. I know I shouldn't moan about trivial stuff really but I get so cross that the girls just help themselves to my stuff that's bad enough but not to return it just makes me even more cross.

When I get out the shower I send her a passive aggressive text message ( I am good at passive aggressive) that says

"Eldest Beautiful Daughter (using her full first, middle and surname, that's how you know the mummy is really cross with you)

I am really really cross with you (making your point)

You nicked my shaving gear AGAIN (in capitals, emphasising your point)

Didn't return it AGAIN and now I have to go out with hairy legs ( more capitals, she knows I don't generally bother with them or punctuation, so really emphasising the point)

You are very selfish (playing the guilt card)

I am so cross with you that I will only put 1 kiss at the end of this message ( I end all messages to my children with love you or love you lots and usually their age in kisses - I am now overgilding the lily and this is the passive aggressive part)

Her reply

" I'm sorry Mummy, I have no money to buy my own and I forgotted. Please don't be cross. Smile, ( a wee smiley face picture is at this bit) I'm wearing 2 pairs of pants, under and over tights for super safety and I won't take them off all night, even if a hot boy asks me nicely. Love you xx "

That's when I stopped being cross and started laughing. Again,that's why I love my children.

The moral of the story is...

Once upon a time there was a woman who fell in love. The man she loved shared the same birthday as she did. She felt this gave them a special bond. The woman fell out of love with the man and they parted but she was still grateful for the time they had shared together and wished him no harm.

On the shared birthday the woman sent a very carefully worded and thoughtful email to the man. He replied from his work email address...

"Thanks, hope you had a good one too...K" and underneath was his name and job title.

Mr Ex Boyfriend
Communications Manager, Europe.

The woman laughed for quite a long time and wondered when he would realise he didn't quite have the appropriate skill set for that particular role.

The End

Forty feckin Two

I have been showered with gifts, cards, texts and emails, I thank you kindly.

Filthiest card of the day award goes to The Edge

Funniest message written inside the card goes to The Beautiful Son.

Drunkety, Drunk, Drunk

Oh yes, I was

The recipe ?

4 women old enough to know better

1 birthday night out ( me on Tues, herself on Fri)

3 bottles of pink fizzy and no dinner

Watch Mama Mia - we had the singalong version (no, the other cinema goers weren't expecting that and surprisingly no one complained, not even when we waved our mobile phones ( for the lights) in the air at the slow ones, I like to think we enhanced their enjoyment !)

Round the evening off with some late night flirty texting.

There you have it

Drunkety, drunk, drunk

Please may I have....

It's my birthday on Tuesday, I am going to be 21 AGAIN, how weird is that I am actually coming to the end of my 2nd 21 years.

Usually I've got an idea of what I want for my birthday, it's fair to say it usually involves jewellery of the silver colour (Tiffany is the drug of choice)and I am partial to a new handbag (Prada, please) but I've no particular covet this year but feel free to surprise me.

What I would really really like is

My house to be properly cleaned from top to bottom (windows, cupboards, under the beds, oh horror of horrors...the oven !!)

My ongoing Rarpa file to be done and sent back (very boring paperwork file that will take me 10 hours to do as I have ignored it for the whole year instead of doing it as I went along)

My tax return to be filled in and dealt with, I have to fill in a self assessment, a foreign and an employed section and the calculations on how many nights I personally have spent in the villa makes me need a big drink.

My divorce to be filed

My pile of clothes that are awaiting going to the dry cleaners, being hemmed, having buttons sewn back on etc etc being dealt with

The inevitable back to school shopping hell done for me

I would like my neck kissed thoroughly and then all the way down my spine

I would like breakfast in bed

After reading this back, I now realise that what I would like for my birthday is someone to help me do all the things in my life I can't be arsed to do for myself. I know what they're called, in fact I used to be one before I retired. What I am looking for, my dear reader, is a wife !!!!!

Any takers ?

Well, that's me told, again

The Beautiful Son was extremely bored yesterday. Mates away on holiday, had done his alloted time span on runescape, had had his 2 meals and 3 snacks and an afters and it was still only half past 1.

" Miss Marmee ( this is his name for me this week, last week it was Angus, so I'm quite pleased at the upgrade), will you do something with me ?"

I have a whole house to clean, a pile of ironing that would frighten the French (my mum always said that, why, and why am I now saying it?) and I still haven't done my end of course paperwork that was due in on July 10th but yet I still spend hours every day on blogger, procrastination thy name is Gwen. So fair to say, I'm not tremendously enthusiastic about "doing something" with TBS as I am a lazy bag and suffering from a huge nasty dose of "can't be arsedness". But I am a Mummy and that is why I took him to see The Dark Knight on Wednesday, because as always, their needs are met before mine.

TBS decides we should play chess. I am very bad at chess, I always have to be kept in the game as I forget which bits move sideyways and how many squares I can go. At this house we have Simpsons chess but at our holiday house we have regular and I get my Marge and Homers mixed up with knights and castles. So in effect, TBS ends up playing himself at chess. He keeps me in the game by telling me where to move etc. After a fairly boring 45 minutes of this he remarked in a very casual manner " Jeez, it's not for the faint hearted this !"

Again, that's me told.

Romantic Gestures

In Starbucks yesterday the nice wee man who made my drink put a heart into the foam. Aawh, the nice.

Last night my email bicker reached entente cordiale with a spot of late night texting. I didn't even complain that he'd woken me up. I was made nice to by his affirming that despite the grumpfest there is still no one else he'd rather take to see Glasvegas. So a nice normal Pollyanna would have returned the sentiment but me, oh no, I have to have the last word (Ok, I fess up, that is where Beautiful Baby Daughter gets it from) and I reply that to be fair I had good reason to be grumpy.

I then receive a text saying and I quote "it's not just a band, not just a gig and not just a ticket, it's a fecking ROMANTIC GESTURE ! So there x "

Well, that's me told.

Doubled in Value

I haven't mentioned my running for a while but I am running fairly well at the moment. Back in May I went to a hen night and I met my friend's running partner, a nice man who has now become my partner, in preparation for the marathon I hope to run.

What he gets out of this arrangement I don't know as I hold him back, whine, procratinate and behave like a teenager. He does all the work, reads running books, sets routes and does spreadsheet things, he even sometimes brings me homemade Bailey's cheesecake as it's my favourite, he is truly a sweet, sweet man. He is extremely polite and has the poshest voice ever and he calls me "Dahling" and it sounds like that, I completely take the mickey out of him for being so English and he is beginning now to overcome his natural gentlemanly traits, his shyness and reserve and is trying to banter back with me.

So how do I repay this lovely, lovely man for all his hard work. Easy, on my trip back to The Mother Country I buy a car bumper sticker of the Saltire. I drive to his house and put it on the back of his Mini. His little pet peeve is people putting stickers on their car. I am hysterical at the thought of him driving around and not knowing it's there, a double whammy, the sticker and the fact he's so ultra English. Of course, sad article that I am, I photograph it and blog it. My problem is I think I am really funny.

He found it today ! He's told me that revenge is a dish best served cold, I wonder if tomorrow I'll wake up and find a St George's Cross painted on the front of my house ?

Pollyanna says sorry

I am called Pollyanna by the person I am currently arguing with, it usually describes me fairly well, however the person I'm arguing with may beg to differ.
This is my penance for being so incredibly bad tempered. I will own up very publicly to being not always nice. I can present myself any which way on this blog and I should let people know that I am and have been a total bitch to you, so I'm sorry

I was bought a ticket to see Glasvegas and instead of making nice, I continued in a spot of low level bickering which frankly is stupid in a woman my age.Not even face to face bickering, not even bickering on the phone, oh no, your auntie has been on a nasty email type bicker, I am so unbelievably teenagerish and not in a good way. This ticket was bought for me as a way of someone making nice to me over a misunderstanding which has been festering and I threw my rattle out of the pram.

There was a very nasty email I sent in which I think the worst bit was

I'm tired, I'm grumpy and I just can't be arsed, it just seems too much like hard work.


Then the reply comes

I could sell it but you are right, there honestly is no one else I'd rather see them with and I was so pleased to spot the gig early and get the tickets. I thought that would mean a lot to you. And its very cool to go and see new bands at our age.

When I got your email last night I thought of an Arctic Monkeys song and here are the lyrics.

Well now then Mardy Bum
I've seen your frown
And it's like looking down the barrel of a gun
And it goes off

Oh there's a very pleasant side to you
A side I much prefer
It's one that laughs and jokes around
Remember cuddles in the kitchen
Yeah, to get things off the ground
And it was up, up and away
Oh, but it's right hard to remember
That on a day like today when you're all argumentative
And you've got the face on

Well now then Mardy Bum
Oh I'm in trouble again, aren't I
I thought as much try haredr
Cause you turned over there
Pulling that silent disappointment face
The one that I can't bear

Can't we, laugh and joke around
Remember cuddles in the kitchen
Yeah, to get things off the ground
And it was up, up and away
Oh, but it's right hard to remember
That on a day like today when you're all argumentative
And you've got the face on

And yeah I'm sorry I was late
well I missed the train
And then the traffic was a state
And I can't be arsed to carry on in this debate
That reoccurs, oh when you say I don't care
but of course I do, yeah I clearly do!

So laugh and joke around
Remember cuddles in the kitchen
Yeah, to get things off the ground
And it was up, up and away
Still, but it's right hard to remember
That on a day like today when you're all argumentative
And you've got the face on

I particularly like the "can't be arsed" line because I've heard that somewhere before.

Then, as if by magic, between 17.42 and 21.14 yesterday Pollyanna returned. Thank God because I really like her. Who the hell was that scary other woman who took over your yahoo account ?

We can't all be open books but we can all make an effort to try harder.

And I loved the pic, thanks. So I might even call your number tomorrow if you promise to put Pollyanna on.

x
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------<

Just another Saturday

I got the underground into Glasgow city centre to meet the Edge. I was the only one in the carriage. It was half past 2 in the afternoon and there on the seat in front of me was an empty bottle of Buckfast. How bad does your Saturday morning need to be to deserve a whole bottle of Buckfast ?

Anyway, I meets the Edge and we went to Starbucks, of course, I completely ripped him for his 4 shot extra hot Caramel Macciato, but being a lady I did refrain from commenting on his fully Pringled up attire, and we spent hours there just musing on our lives and people watching.

Who'd have thought you could have so much fun sober, with all your clothes on and without a funny shaped stick in your hand ?

Musings from my Mammies

Well, I've crossed the border once again and am at home, at my mammies in The Mother Country.

All's well here, I've been visiting family and eating my body weight in Empire Biscuits, which, truth be told, I'm getting a wee bit sick of now.

The Beautiful Mother aka my mammie continues to try and over please at every turn. She waits on us hand and foot and has a fridge and cupboards full of all kinds of goodies. If she offers you something and you accept, she then tries to give you something else as well, a bit like " Would you like a biscuit with your coffee ?", "You would, lovely, well, could you go a wee Danish pastry with it as well ?" she offered me chips with my soup yesterday, I wondered if she was going to float them in my bowl ! If you enjoy something she immediately offers to make it again for you, " Oh I'm glad you enjoyed that darling, would you like another one ?" it's just as well I don't live here, I'd be twice the size.

My gadget mad dad continues to be gadget mad, he has bought another computer and to keep his Ipod Nano company, he had bought an Ipod touch, as you do !

I was shopping today in Buchanan Galleries with Eldest Beautiful Daughter and I met a fellow blogger for the first time, the lovely Laura, fellow Sharleen aficionado, it was brilliant to see you Laura, I was hoping you'd be at work and I hope the next time, we'll go for a wee refreshment to match our blether. I now know what you mean about John Lewis customers though. Just after that EBD and I were looking at clothes when this nice lady started chatting with us, this happens a lot in Glasgow, never where I now live in middle England, but at home people just chat with you. This was a nice lady and we chatted for a few minutes and she said " can I ask you something?" , " Sure" says us, " Do you know that Jesus loves you ?" says the wee lady, she them proceeds to tell us about Jesus before giving us a hug and a kiss each and sends us on our way.

I just love this kind of randomness, never happens anywhere else, just at home.

We then go into Boots and are approached by another lady who says " Excuse me, can I ask you something? " well, me and EBD are on the floor laughing and we fair confused the woman who wanted our opinion on what sunglasses suited her face best, so we spent 10 minutes helping her choose her sunglasses and off she went all happy. God I love this country.

Eldest Beautiful Daughter has gone off to Edinburgh to stay her friend and I'm off to eat at least 42 different offerings from my mammie.

It's soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo great to be home, even if it hasn't stopped feckin raining.

ps I can't take the credit for this bit of graffiti or even the photo. IT God assures me he drove (in his BMW) to a really dodgy area, risking life and limb to capture this for me. He also says he was asked by a passing policeman if everything was ok !

Gifted and Talented

I got home from work to find these in my fridge. The Beautiful Son went to Sainsbury's and bought me a kg of Roses chocolates for my birthday in 2 weeks time. How many times a day do I go into the fridge?
Did he think I wouldn't notice ?
Yes, this is the son that was identified as being Gifted and Talented.

This is why despite severe mental torture, I really, really love my children !

I'm off to The Mother Country in the morning, so I'll see you when I get back.