My Royal Wedding Top Ten

1. Drinking Champagne with the girls , the cheaper the better

2. Eating cake , homemade of course and piled high with red , white and blue sprinkles.

3. Making paper chains with the boys - you can never have enough.

4. Making bunting - ditto.

5. Watching telly in bed with a mug of tea in my brand new Union Jack mug, of course if I'd known our own little Jack had tasted it first .....

6. Getting dressed up in my wedding dress.

7. The look on my eldest son's face at the the sight of me in my wedding dress with a jauntily placed plastic tiara on my head and a glass of champagne in my hand - priceless.

8. Caviar for tea ( gift from very generous friend).

9. The Battle of Britain Memorial Flight Flypast. My father was a Lancaster pilot during WW11 and it never fails to bring a tear to me eye.

10. Watching it all over again in the evening.

You can't beat a good wedding, especially when you haven't had to shell out for an outfit or a toaster . How was your day ?

Hellisters

I've discovered a whole new shopping hell on earth . It's a place called Hollisters . The designers and architects had a field day on their drawing boards. The branch at our local shopping centre can only be described as a Hawaiian / mock Tudor fusion with colonial overtones. If you're ever trying to find it a your local shopping centre just look for the hoards of pre-pubescent texting tweenies hanging around outside .

Once over the threshold, past the leather wing chairs and Victorian candelabra ... oh and you sometimes you have to queue up outside ( crowd control ) as if entering a hallowed nightclub,  the light levels dip to about the strength of a 20 watt bulb. You don't need to actually see the merchandise as it's all identical - sherbert coloured T shirts sporting Californian slogans like 'Surfs Up' or 'Beach Bum' or maybe even ' I'm only buying this to show that I can afford £25 quid for a T shirt and all my mates have exactly the same one ' .

I stumbled my way past the throngs of twelve year olds fingering the merchandise, looking for something with an affordable price tag . Fat Chance. The sales staff are on permanent T shirt folding duties as everyone seemed to be doing the same thing - pulling out a T shirt from an immaculate pile , looking at the price tag , mouthing the words " How Much ?!"  then replacing it in a crumpled pile for the folders to do their magic.

Deeper inside this hell-hole , your eyes begin to acclimatise to the dingy lighting but not quite enough to avoid serious injury to your ankles as you trip over the 5" high plinths clearly designed to catch you unawares. The teens presumably have memorised the floor layout in their sleep and can navigate their way around blindfold. Bruised but  not defeated I rounded the corner and entered the preppy area where the clothing was emblazoned with fictional college emblems 'Californian Surf School Alumini 1963 ' and the like. Oh dear. It was all getting much worse than I'd dared imagine. The cotton felt nice though until you realised that it had probably been harvested at the expense of a 9 year old child labourer for the cost a bowl of rice a day.

Eventually I found a 'bargain' garment for  £12 and made my way to the till where I found a snaking queue of at least 30 people clutching their  prospective purchases . You could just about make out the whites of their eyes - difficult to determine whether this was due to a heightened pitch of shopping fever or a nervousness at the prospect of parting with a day's wages.

Gasping with disbelief I plonked my T shirt back on a random shelf in a crumpled pile - well , you have to give the brigade of T Shirt folders something to do , and groped my way to the exit, past the bamboo plantation, round the next bend , hang a right at the Georgian mahogany library shelves, emerging , blinking, into the sunlight.

I don't think my 11 year old will be too upset that I failed in my conquest to bag him an uber trendy T . Bless him - our local Oxfam is his favourite shop.

Next time you're in town , take a look at the passing shoppers. You'll be able to spot the Hollisters customers a mile away . They will usually be a 40 something Mum with bruised ankles and an empty wallet with a texting teen tagging along with a big grin on their face.

Poor old Martha Stewart

She must be exhausted . So far this month she's planted a forest, made all her own soap , appliqued a squillion eggs, hand carved her own herb labels and by page 120 she's held an Easter egg hunt for a bunch of kids dressed in linen suits. It's called a " casual Easter brunch ' , so casual in fact that all of the grown-ups have clearly been instructed to wear yellow whilst sipping champagne ( presumably from her own hand planted vineyard ) before helping the kids decorate their goose eggs at the craft table ( don't think little Johnny's felt penned mess is going to cut the mustard with Martha ) . I'm exhausted already and I haven't even ventured on to page 158 where she tackles cleaning her oven , which includes a step by step tutorial on how to unblock your fuel ports with a paper clip. And how come her duck egg blue apron is spotless ?
Just out of shot are the crew of 100 who doubtless actually do the unblocking for her.

It's easy to have a pop at Martha but it's such fun and that may account for why I shell out £3.90 for her monthly mag , it's the best laugh I've had since watching Michael Mackintyre judge Britain's Got Talent last night on telly.

Flipping through to end of the mag I found a section on how to look bloody marvellous too. Not content with laying your own eggs and crafting your own rugs, she's now telling us how we should dress. Strange though , everyone's upside down , maybe its for the Australian market ? No you have to turn it the other way round apparently and start from the other end to make it look like a whole new mag. What will those clever marketing chappies think of next ?

Incidentally my Easter egg hunts normally get rained off and involve an indoor version with a  handful of the lurid foil wrapped cream egg variety squished behind sofas and hard to find places which , unfound, turn up months later -  a real bonus when you're clean out of chocolate sometime in July and have a desperate urge to stuff your face with something from Cadburys.

I'm currently also reading , as if a glutton for punishment, a book about simplifying your life. I usually have at least one of these on the go on my Kindle at any one time. They're usually another source of guffaws. This one tells me I need to eliminate and simplify . So that's how you do it ? And here's me been cluttering and complicating my life for years with unnecessary burdens. So this morning I'm going to simplify my life by eliminating the ironing and I plan to go out for breakfast and let someone else do the washing up. Actually there are a few gems in the book which I plan to put to the test so if some of you don't hear from me in the next few months it may be because I've eliminated you from my email list. Apparently email and the internet is the scourge of 21st century living ( an element of truth) and we spend 30% of our lives attending to it . So , switching off now so that I don't get lured into the den of the internet iniquity known as the shopping cart. but not before I've checked out Martha's online clip art page which will show me how to print my own rhubarb compote labels.. trouble is I was supposed to plant the ruddy rhubarb plants last year and I clean forgot. Too busy scrubbing down my garden statue collection with baking soda no doubt ( p132 ) .

Bunny Humour

Seeing as it's nearly Easter ...

Oh , I've just checked my blog and seen that the picture above has disappeared to be replaced by a menacing little blue square containing a question remark. Anyone techies know why that is ?

Qualy

I have one problem with this design company. I want one of everything . Feast your eyes on this scene of loveliness.

Oh ... just tried to post a picture but it won't let me ... hey ho , you'll have to look here instead .

Oh , so now it's letting me copy a picture ... ah well , have a look at this little lot.

Trouble is , I can't find anywhere in the UK that stocks their products and as much as I'd love a visit to Bangkok , that would be one shopping trip too far. Incidentally , the white bunny's ears are a pair of scissors and his carrot holds paper clips.

Tut tut HARRODS

What a ghastly place it is really ... serves me right for going but the promise of a Swiss themed store event and a confectionary department fit to burst with Easter chocolate was too tempting.

As we sat in the stupidly named Ca'ppucino coffee bar ( and yes that is where they put the apostrophe ) my 11 year old son dared to open a cellophane bag containing fudge which we'd just purchased , at which point the snotty waitress appeared and humiliated him by informing us that it was against store policy to consume any food other than purchased in the coffee bar. For crying out loud. He is a child and it was a sweet. What next ? No farting on the premises ? I only wished he had. That would have given her something to justify the 'smell under her nose' look she gave us.

Anyway , undeterred I had the audacity to ask for a glass of water to drink with our ice cream. well that nearly finished her off. What a horrid experience and one I'm happy not to repeat any time soon.

Harrods ... you scored 2 out of 10 and the 2 was only for the chocolate . Incidentally the crimeful piece of fudge that my son consumed scored even lower - truly disgusting.

The lure of London during school holidays never lives up to expectations. I always go with the boys with high hopes of experiencing our capital city in all its glorious loveliness but I always return on the sweaty train at the end of the day feeling distinctly disappointed , penniless and as if I need to have a damn good wash of my hands as soon as I get home.

Been a long time

.. since I posted any layouts. Sadly they're sitting in a pile above where I keep my albums awaiting their final resting place . So I' thought I'd take the opportunity to photograph a few . A mixed bag . I'm really enjoying scrapping all my photos of the boys from their early childhood. I carry them around in my scrap tote and they're my first 'go to ' photos when I start a layout.

Thank you Sandra for setting the 'red theme' challenge in aid of Comic Relief at our crop for which I produced this.

Thank you 7 Gypsies for producing this sumptuous collage tissue which I used for this.

Thank you Emma for putting together this kit for me for our Ally Pally £3 page kit challenge.

Thank you Kate , likewise,  for putting together this kit for me for our Ally Pally £3 page kit challenge.

Thank you Max for loving me all the way to the moon .. and back.

Thank you Fowey Hall for being our favourite child friendly holiday when the boys were little.

And finally one of the old man !

I quite like posting these on my blog - it gives me the chance to look at them objectively and spot what looks wonky and needs fiddling with ... ( the layouts that is ... not the old man ... although maybe .....)

Everything is Going to Be OK

 Wish I could believe it , although this lovely item could turn me into an optimist. So, might as well fly the flag and proclaim it from the treetops in style with this bunting. Another of the flags reads " You can still do a lot with a small brain". How true.

And as if fate almost intended , I found a delightful bag at the weekend with that very sentiment printed on it . One of the things I love the most about it , apart from the fact that it describes my brain size to a tee and the wonderful artwork by Rob Ryan, is that it's beautifully made and will last a lifetime.

 Must go find a picture of the bag now too ...
here you go ....

Rob Ryan aficionados will be familiar with this artist's work but for those of you who have yet to discover his charm , have a look here. If anyone has found anything else by Rob, please let me know .

Butterflies and Buttons

I promised myself that I wouldn't spend another penny until payday ... and then I realised it was payday - which was just as well because having seen this in the window of an antique shop on the way back from this morning's lesson it would have seemed criminal not to have set it free .

So it's now sitting on my scrap desk and just waiting to be filled with some pretty vintage buttons.

Just as well then that I found these little gems in the same shop. Now they have the perfect home.

You can never have enough charm bracelets

What scrap-booker wouldn't want this in their collection ?

The purchase was justified on the grounds of

a) I've worked my socks off this week

and

b) My new rule - not allowed to go shopping unless it's on my bike which means I not only save money on the car parking but also on my purchases as I can only buy what you can carry on a bike.

Mind you , it's amazing what you can cram into a pair of XXL bike panniers !

All You Need Is ...

I have a fetish for pretty purses and this one tops the lot. I only wish I had enough money to put them to their intended use.

As the say "money talks , mine says "goodbye" '

It's Spring

It's Spring when, according to Tennyson, young men's fancies turn lightly to love or maybe its the start of the footie season but then that seems to go on all year now ... whatever ... anyway my fancy turns to brightly coloured objects of beauty.

I've just been shopping for custard powder, school shirts and stamps but somehow managed to come back with these little beauties instead.

For some unfathomable reason this was reduced in John Lewis from £28 to £14.

Then I found this ...

... which I intend to use for my sweet little pots of Cosmic Shimmers and the like. I was going to buy one of those silly Tim Holz tin cases just because I have a couple of others , in fact you can just see them on the left of the picture, but this is SO much lovelier and half the price too. Sorry Tim.

And finally there were these shouting BUY ME from their shelf in Marks and Spencer and again for some unfathomable reason were reduced in price. Well, how could I NOT buy them ?

And who needs custard powder anyway although I'm not sure what the boys are going to wear to school on Monday.

Just in case you were wondering how cute Jack is looking these days ( renamed Kung Fu Kitten for obvious reasons) , here's a little shot of the cutest Kitten in England.

Retreat

Dictionary definition : A quiet or secluded place to which one can retreat for rest and relaxation.

I'd go with the rest and relaxation but I'd have to draw the line at quiet or secluded - but thankfully in a nice way.

I've just returned from a scrap-booking retreat in Warrington. Our retreat hosts Sarah and Lianne were exemplary in organising a wonderful weekend, full of treats and surprises .  All 6 classes were gorgeous ( as Mary would say ) , only surpassed by the company. Thanks to my table mates who provided hilarious comedic moments and company throughout to which the photos below will testify.

And is if it couldn't get any better , there were unsurpassable stash shopping opportunities, a delicious old fashioned sweetie shop ( I can recommend the Strawberry laces) at our disposal and fresh coffee on tap. I think it might even have been sunny all weekend not that I would have noticed as my head was buried in a mountain of pretty paper, buttons and ribbon. Bliss.

I let the train take the strain this year and apart from the expense , not just the train fare but then the exorbitant taxi fares to and from the station to the hotel, it was bliss. Wouldn't risk traveling without a reserved seat though. VIrgin must be coining it. Speedy too, no sooner had I opened my Glamour magazine than we seemed to be sailing into the station.

Notes for the next retreat .... bring larger suitcase (check that the wheels aren't about to fall off ), forget changes of clothing as they'll end up covered in sandpapered chipboard and glitter whatever you wear, bring wine, leave chocolate at home, persuade kindly fellow scraper to get you to and from the station, don't forget glasses and leave heavy tools behind .
So roll on November when we get to do it all over again !

Getting ready for the 14th

Yes I know it's a sham the whole Valentine's thing, dreamt up by Hallmark to increase cards sales after Christmas, but I still love it .

What's not to love about hearts and red and pink and chocolate and teddy bears and all the other nonsense that goes with it. I try not to spend a whole heap on tat and clutter but the odd item slips through under the net , like this year's coca cola lip smacker balm packed in a special Valentine's heart shaped pack, justified on the grounds that the boys get through tons of the stuff trough the winter months thereby killing 2 birds with one stone - cute and useful.

Not to mention the pack of Cath Kidston heart shaped buttons which will doubtless find their way onto a layout before long , that is if I can bear to rip them from their sweet packaging. I have an embargo on buying anything by Cath Kidston as we live in the epicentre of the Cath Kidston sheep-following, handbag-toting Yummy Mummy Brigade, who can't be seen out of doors without at least a dozen of her sprigged floral accessories, stuffed into their status symbol oilskin handbags. Who wants a handbag made of oilskin for goodenss sakeand is there anything she hasn't had manufactured yet ? (  I haven't seen a Cath Kidston range or toilet paper yet , but then it's probably only a matter of time )  but this was an exception as you can never have enough buttons.

Oh and there's the card I've bought for my husband , which made me think it had been made especially for him ... yes me and millions of other wives...

Husband and I are past the lovey dovey stage, that usually manages to sustain from honeymoon through to 1st wedding anniversary if you're lucky , but that doesn't mean to say I can't indulge in a little celebratory nonsense with the boys who still make me heartfelt Valentine's cards and cut heart shapes out of toast . They must get it from me as indeed I did from my own Mum who loved a good celebration , any excuse , but then that was probably the Irish in her.

So , Sunday evening will find my baking heart shaped cakes and lining up the heart shaped cookie cutters, the heart shaped sugar sprinkles and a bunch of other pink red and white stuff in preparation for Monday's mornings lovefest breakfast for my boys. They love it and so do I , so that's all that counts.

And talking of cute .... meet Jack our latest addition...who is filling out hearts with love right now.

I've just eaten a slice of lean ham for my lunch. On the back of the pack it told me that a traffic light system was in place to let me know how healthy it was. I'm just wondering how long its going to be before food warden turns up and gives me a ticket for overeating.

Love Songs

I reckon about 99% of all popular songs are about love and when I listen to them I laugh at that teenage , hormone driven , love angst thing they all sing about ... and usually in their teens and early twenties when they haven't had the life experience to really feel its depth and pain.

But then I went and heard this ...




... performed by Adele ( and I understand also by Rebecca recently on the X Factor although her version is a little too warbly for me ) and I was stunned to learn that it was written and originally released by Bob Dylan. Anyway, every single word is divine and has filled my head since the moment I first heard it . When I listen to it ( and this now numbers several hundred times ) I think immediately of my boys. I can never hear enough of it and I'd like it sung at my funeral please if anyone is reading this that might be there.

Is there a New Year's Eve equivalent for Bah Humbug ?

.. in which case happy (Bah Humbug ) New Year's Whatever.

I've never quite understood NYE. A kind of forced joviality and contrived spontaneity ... the worst combination. Reckon hedgehogs have the right idea ... hibernate until the whole ghastly winter experience is over.

Looking forward to a day in bed tomorrow - might as well start the year as I intend to continue.

This time next week ...

.. we'll be lighting the fire, warming up the mulled wine, hanging up the stockings and probably shovelling the snow from the front path at this rate. This afternoon I got caught in a blizzard . Luckily I was in a rather lovely shop and so had to wait it out whilst browsing all the loveliness. Worse places to get snowed in I guess.

The boys are blundering around the place, taking up a lot of room and eating everything in sight. The fridge is empty and the house is a mess but what the hell, the presents are wrapped and no-one has gone down with swine flu ... yet.

In amongst he mayhem I actually found time to make some Christmas cards. Simple but sweet.

Men and Christmas

Not two words you often see sitting comfortably together in a sentence.


Husband let out an exasperated sigh last night after managing all of 4 Christmas cards. Mind you that's more than he's managed in previous years.


So for all you hard working ladies out there who are single handedly managing the shopping, cooking, cleaning, carol services, teachers presents, children's stockings, in laws gifts, cards, tree, food etc etc . Here's a joke my lovely friend just sent me. Apologies for the bizarre layout but it's the best I could do by copying and pasting. Enjoy.

Proud to be English!
Three
men were sitting together bragging about how they
 had given duties to their new
wives.
     Terry had married a woman from
Greece and bragged that
 he had told his wife she needed to do all
the dishes and
 housework. He
said that it took a couple days but on the
 third day he came home to a clean house
and the dishes were
 all washed
and put away.
     Jimmie had married a woman from
Italy.  He bragged
that
 he had given his wife
orders that she was to do all the
 cleaning, dishes, and the cooking. He
told them that the
 first day he
didn't see any results, but the next day it
 was better. By the third day, his house
was clean, the
 dishes were done,
and he had a huge dinner on the table.
     The third
man had married an English girl. He boasted
 that he told her that her duties were to
keep the house
 cleaned, dishes
washed, laundry and ironing twice a week,
 lawns mowed, windows cleaned and hot
meals on the table for
 every
meal. He said the first day he didn't see
 anything, the second day he didn't see
anything, but by
 the third day
most of the swelling had gone down and he
 could see a little out of his left eye,
just enough to fix
 himself a
bite to eat, load the dishwasher, and call a
 handyman.

My Luvverly Secret Santa

... has excelled herself . I'm feeling very spoilt as every morning I get to open a present that has gorgeous written all over it , well not literally , but the contents are.

This morning I opened a pack of letter stickers to go with the papers I received yesterday. It's a lovely way to build up an idea of a layout .. day by day.

Thank you Santa XXX

Peppermint Bark

For all of you who are snowed in for yet another day , here's a foolproof , fun-to-make , even more fun to eat recipe. Thanks to my sister for providing.

Take as many slabs of white chocolate as you like - I used 5 bars of the Basic white chocolate from Sainsburys which are only 30p per bar.

 Melt them however you like , microwave is fine, in a jug. Grab a 10 pack of peppermint candy canes ( 99p from Sainsburys ) .

Stick them in a thick plastic bag and arm the children with a rolling pin.

 Stand well back as they bash the living daylights out of them.

Sprinkle a layer of the crushed canes onto a baking sheet lined with greaseproof paper. Pour the white chocolate on top , sprinkle with the remainder of the crushed candy canes and bung it in the fridge.

This is the worst part - you have to wait a while whilst it all hardens. When it's well and truly solid whip it out of the fridge and let the children smash it to pieces. I defy anyone one to make this and not eat it all in one sitting . I would have taken a photo of the finished product ... but it's all gone !

My Christmas Manifesto

Should have snow more often , I've blogged more today than I think I have for the whole of last month.

I'm using my blog as a holding place for all of the journalling I plan to include in my " Journal Your Christmas" album. Here's my manifesto for this year's celebration.

• This year , like all those that precede it, I'm aiming to keep it simple. This makes me laugh even as I write it, as 'simple' is not a word I often apply to my life.
• My eldest son asked me this morning what my favourite Christmas memory was and I have to admit that I struggled to think of one immediately. Not because I don't have any but because I have an absolute ton - an embarrassment of riches really. As my mother embraced the rituals of Christmas with her typical verve and zealousness , I do too and I reckon my sons will in years to come. So this year's aim is to get the memories down on paper so that they can read about them in years to come and so the Christmas spirit will pass on down the family line ad infinitum.
• I plan to shop my socks off . Not necessarily spend , just look, wonder, admire and enjoy. The shops are stuffed full of those nonsense 'gift ideas' that turn up in charity shops 6 months later. But in amongst the nonsense there are some real gems . I love to ferret out those little trinkets that make me smile as I anticipate the recipients' reaction as they open them on Christmas day. Shopping is an art form ... little and often is my motto , liberally interspersed with a sampling of those ridiculous Christmas coffee flavors like gingerbread mocha latte - whatever that is ! But boy does it taste good and why not. 
• Go with the flow. Nothing is going to irritate , frustrate or annoy me . Not even the inevitable kitchen item that will be under the tree for me from DH .... last year's bread bin, the year before's salad servers. Bring it on I say .
• Plan the last week before the boys break up with military precision. Large doses of ME time, more of that gingerbread frothacino nonsense and maybe even a manicure or some such. Remember that when school breaks up all hell will let loose.
• Let others do the cooking . Why not ? In fact meals these days are more like assembling with all the luscious ingredients available at even the most humble of supermarkets. Avoid those ghastly Iceland 500 nibbles for £1 type bargains. Might as well eat cardboard with cheese on it. Go for simple snacks like a selection of cheeses and a vat of red wine to accompany. I'm such a control freak that you usually can't keep me out of the kitchen but this year will be different. Famous last words.
• More walking . Now that I'm superslim it's so much more pleasurable and just think of all those positive endorphins that will course through my bloodstream.
• Enjoy the moment.

As its snowing outside I might as well blog

Don't often get the opportunity to write that in December.

I'm taking part in Shimelle's "Journal Your Christmas" class this year . Can't believe I haven't done it before what with Christmas running through my veins the way it does. I've probably been too busy upto my ears in gingerbread houses and Christmas Fair gifts to find the time before.

Anyway here's what my Christmas is looking like so far :

1st December - out come the Advent calenders ... posh ones this year . I haven't even been allowed so much as a sniff of them this year.

... but then I get to open up a present a day from this gorgeous pile of goodies every day in december, courtesy of my Secret Santa at the Cheam Crop.

Here's the view from the bedroom window this morning. More snow please.

And finally a little beauty of a lamp that I picked up from a strange shop called Clas Ohlsen - a kind of town centre version of Ikea, for a meref £6 , now that's what I cal a bargain. I'm planning on putting it up in the Christmas room ( more of that later ) but it's so lovely I really just want to keep it in the kitchen and gaze upon its beauty whilst I do the ironing.

Ever played that game ?

... the one where you have to say if you had to lose a sense which one would it be ? Most people go for smell I reckon , thinking that if they weren't tempted by food they'd probably lose a few pounds . I know the one I couldn't do without is the sense of hearing .

In fact if I went blind tomorrow, I'd still know it was Christmas from the sounds around me. Out shopping the other day I heard the unmistakable din of the Bentalls Shopping Centre Bears and found myself rushing over to get a closer peek at how they looked this year . They never fail to disappoint in all their cheesy gloriousness. And there they were resplendent in full Victorian garb awash with train sets and fireplaces, garlands and stockings, piles of presents and a few of Santa's little helpers and a polar bear or two thrown in for good measure.

I had to suppress a tiny squeal of delight - God forbid if the boys had been with me , they would have run a mile . Never ones to gasp in amazement or clamour for a ring side seat, they would rather leg it in case Mum decided to join in with the singing which I have been known to do . Let's face it our job here on earth is to embarrass our kids.

So there we have it , the sound of Christmas - Bing and his mates belting out a jazzed up version of White Christmas, karaoke style, whilst the Bentalls Bears lip synch along for the pleasure of a hundred or so tots bundled up in their buggies straining for a closer look at this extraordinary spectacle.

I can't help but wonder what the workers in Korea must be thinking as they construct these visions of a Western Christmas in the heat and humidity of their sweat shop factories ready for export . They must think the British are completely bonkers . And thank goodness we are.

 So the Bears have been installed and now Christmas can officially be pronounced open.

Boys , if you're reading this I'm planning on taking you along to see them this afternoon and yes I will be singing along especially as they have a rather snazzy version of " All I want for Christmas is Yooooooou.......... " this year.

Sweet 16

How did that happen ? ... I blinked and he grew up all of a sudden.

Oh the weather outside is frightful ...

...but the fire is so delightful
and as I've no place to go,
Let it snow , let it snow, let it snow !

It's -3 degrees in London and falling , as is the snow much to the boys delight . The prognosis of a day snowed in at home is becoming all the more likely - they can hardly believe their luck and its only November . You see there are some benefits to going to a school that's miles away in the depths of the countryside at the bottom of an ungritted lane.

I've had the piano playing carols, we've just made our Christmas cake and the kitchen is scented with nutmeg. There's half a mug of cheap brandy left over from Delia's recipe ... Christmas has come early - that will do nicely tonight after the boys have gone to bed. Can it get any more Christmassy ?

Two chocolate advent calendars have been uncellophaned and are propped up on the table ready for their first assault first thing in the morning . Even the cat has one this year.  Ah yes , the cat ... curled up in her basket next to the radiator. She's no fool.

It's that time of year again

The boys' School Christmas Fair looms ... way too early this year ( tomorrow 19th November) but what the hell. Any excuse for a mince pie and a glass of mulled wine is OK by me whatever time of year.

As usual , by about October, I'm envisioning expansive projects involving labour intensive sessions in my craft room , devising all kinds of magnificent Christmas finery. The reality is more like a mad dash to run up something attractive the week before.

In fact this year , I've been moderately productive and in good time. I've made Christmas Cupcake kits and sweet little bags of something called White Chocolate Peppermint Bark ( recipe courtesy of my sister  - white chocolate , peppermint essence and crushed Candy Canes ) of which I'm rather proud. Let's just hope they do the business and raise a decent amount of cash ... and God forbid that they remain unsold by the close of play ... the ultimate disgrace in any Yummy mummy's handbook.

 I drank way too much red wine tonight and agreed to host DH's works' Christmas bash . Don't you find that the prospect of a Christmas party is far more exhilarating than the actual event itself ? Still , I find myself falling into this trap every year. I love it really.

Dear Diary ...

As  my blog address suggests, I've never been able to keep a diary . Well not for any length of time anyway and certainly not since I was a teenager when all I wrote about was snogging and going to discos - yuk. It read like a scene from the Inbetweeners.

So , imagine my surprise when I discovered an 8 year old volume with a few of my scribbles, whilst clearing out the bookshelves. It was called something cringeworthy like "An Abundance of Joy ' or some such nonsy title, the idea being that you'd fill in each day with a list of 5 things about which you were joyful. I managed it for 4 days with sad little entries like ... I am joyful that I managed to get up on time this morning. Oh please.

Day Five's entry was just one word ... which read "Bol**cks' . I'd clearly had enough by then and is it any wonder. Another tome bites the dust.

It's a bit like food diaries when you're dieting. Day one is usually peppered with references to spinach ad other green things with the occasional sip of warm water tinctured with a splash of fresh lemon juice. By day five you're living off the Family sized bucket of KFC washed down with a bottle or two of red wine.

However, it has to be said that my ' Abundance of Joy' diary, albeit brief, did live up to its title. Reading it did made me laugh out loud and be abundently joyful that I'd kept it so that I could laugh my socks off one day in the future.

Every Now and Then ...

... you have one of those days which you know is going to embed itself in your memory in all its multi-sensory glory.
Like today. Met a friend for coffee in town. I love her company and we always have a laugh. I adore her 'silver lining' take on life and her wicked irreverence. So there we are supping coffee and putting the world to rights and then moseying around the shops a bit, having a laugh at this and that. Then I get to cycle home through Bushy Park in it's glorious Autumn splendour inhaling the woody smokiness of an October's day, the faint whiff of damp fungi in the air and the unmistakable pong of deer pheromones (sp?) in the rutting season, wafting through the air.

A few shiny conkers lay split open on the ground to reveal their luscious mahogany contents , the odd russet tinged oak leaf wafting groundward from the sky and an abundance of cyclists and runners soaking up the last vestiges of an Indian summer. Home to a lunch of my own grown tomatoes and a Cox's apple in the garden. Heaven. Even the Heathrow flightpath overhead seems to have been momentarily suspended so that I can enjoy the moment.

You'll have to forgive my lyrical waxing . I just had to get it down in type before the bubble bursts and the boys stampede through the house, home from school with tales of homework woe and what a disgusting lunch they had, before slumping in front of the XBox with nothing more than a  "What's for tea?" greeting.

Hey ho. Another weekend of piano lessons and rugby practice but not before a spot of scrapping with my scrapping buddies tomorrow. For those who don't know what scrapbooking is, that last comment will sound as if I'm spoiling for a fight .. but they know what I mean !