Parallel Universe

This morning I found myself in the company of women who compared notes on not whether but when they would be skiing, how their daughters HAD to have Ugg Boots ( not much change out of £200) , how 3 bathrooms in a house was the bare minimum and what canapes they'd be serving at Christmas. There was much guffawing about what they used to get up to in the dorms at their respective boarding schools and how they'd been stalking high street shops to nab this year's Must-Have Christmas gift - a Nintendo Wii.
I felt as if I'd been transported to some kind of parallel universe. At intervals they would break away to take a call on their mobiles, barking instructions at the caller with a kind of nasal indignation. I dared to mention the fake Ugg lookalikes that BHS are selling - a snip at £7 at which point someone asked what BHS was . It clearly didn't feature on their radar. It's where people like me shop I dared to answer.

The colour grey

I love the colour grey in all it's hues and shades , I'm even wearing it today but then so is the sky and it doesn't suit it so well. Something happens when the sky clouds over that has an immediate effect on my mood . No matter how many lamps I turn on to counteract the gloom , nothing seems to be able to brighten my mood. No amount of Scissor Sisters does the trick either and that's worrying. Talking of the fabulous SS , I caught the tail end of that brother sisiter duo on the X Factor attempting a cover of I don't feel Like Dancing . Some things in life are sacred and that song is one of them. Don't even try to ape the maestros. On the other hand the ridiculous Rhydian was magnificent which I never thought I'd hear myself say . Think it must be the quirky British nature that's enabled him to get this far ... well that and his voice . I'm warming to him.

Scrap Revolution Retreat

Remember that feeling when you were just about to finish a wonderful book that you'd hoped would never end ? A sort of self-induced depression that rendered you helpless and as each page passed the inevitability of the end would finally engulf you and you'd be left mourning it's passing ?
Well I just had the same feeling , but following a 48 hour period of blissful scrapping at a retreat in a gloriously rural part of Hertfordshire. I just didn't want it to end. Friends , fun , a lot of laughs , a lot of chocolate and the best part ... all meals cooked for you and no kids. I never thought I'd hear myself say that .. the bit about no kids but who am I kidding ?

Too many Christmas's ?

Around about this time of year the shops begin to launch their Christmas ranges. Sadly these normally comprise useless 'gifts' that turn up at car boot sales the following year. Multi-tools with 7 types of blade, pig shaped shower radios and grow your own millionaire being tyical examples. Game show tie-in board games, anything pink and miniature garden tool sets feature strongly as do hideous confectionary concoctions the size of a small child. Over the years I 've become wiser and resist these tawdry offerings in favour of something a little more aesthetically pleasing . Pure luxury features hevily in the top priorities although I still can't bring myself to pay over 40 quid for a bottle of Jo Mallone (sp?) bath oil ... see I don't even know how to spell it yet alone justify ithe expense although I do still covet it.
I'll have to buy my own gifts again this year to avoid getting some ghastly sequined red satin bag from husband containing foul smelling cheap nastiness which is all that M&S will have on it's shelves by Christmas Eve, or worse a kitchen gadget ( previous years have included bread bins , salad servers , teapots). This would be funny if it weren't so sad that he doesn't know me so never knows what to get me. I have to buy his mother's gifts too because he doesn't know what she likes either and the childrens too. Although I think he knows them , well on occassions. I'll get the ususal barbed remark about the cost of these. It's all a bit of a charade really. And yet despite the hideous annual ritual of shopping centres becoming no go areas from November onwards , the ever increasing proliferation of variations on Christmas Pudding ( sticky toffee chocolate for goodness sake , what's the matter with traditional plain old fashioned christmas pudding ?) and the turning down of every invitation to some tedious 'Christmas Do' that involves a black dress and a pair of tights ... I still quite like the idea of Christmas. It's just getting harder each year to work up any enthusiasm.

Geo- caching

One of my team-mates on UKS posted me to a link about this latest craze. Hardly daring to check it out , given my adictive nature, I immediately logged on and found that there are nearly 5000 caches or treasure sites within a 50 mile radius of me . Early days , but I think the idea is that you trek off into the great outdoors with a sat nav thingy in your hand and put in the co-ordinates that you've found online . It usually comes with a quiz type clue that you have to decipher to pinpoint the exact location. Once you've found it you open up the container, sign in to say you've visited and take a little reasure token or sime such and replace it with one of your own. It's all I can do to wait for the boys to come home from school before dragging them off to locate it ! I'd never heard of it before this morning but it sounds like great , wholesome, family entertainment that uses technology ( which the boys love) but which doesn't involve them sitiing in front a screen for hours ( which I loathe) ...so everyone's happy ! Thanks Elaine !

Making up for lost time

Never dressed up dolls when I was little . Don't think I ever owned anything pink . Didn't have anything glittery. So it was all the more exciting to be crowned Scrapping Princess at the Swansea Retreat!
My tiara has pride of place in my scrap room. Just making up for lost time.