Feed Burner

I've no idea what it means but it sounds very dramatic. Maybe it's something to do with calories or some agricultural procedure that involves setting light to cornfields.

There's a whole lexicon of jargon out there which makes me feel, rather inadequately, that I might be missing out on something fabulously clever or life enhancing or empowering.

As I write this , I'm staring at a word in the "Post Settings" column which simply says Permalink. I'm tempted to click on it and see if it transports me to a reassuring place where everything joins together nicely and forever. I just did and now I'm confused as I have to choose between Automatic or Custom . Who knows what might irrevocably happen if I make the wrong choice.

Slightly more sinister is the little screen that pops up and let's me know that someone or something out there wants to 'use my location' I'm not sure whether to be worried that my whereabouts are about to be exposed.

And then there's the cosy and inviting message that talks about cookies as if it knows my weakness.

Serves me right for entering blogland blissfully unaware of the perils and pitfalls that would bombard me along the way. But I'm about to put all that right by attending something called Blogfest in a trendy bar in London some time in November - no I'm not withholding the date and location intentionally - I just can't remember the details. Lots of very clever people will be there who can enlighten me on Burnt Location Cookies and Permafrost Post Settings.... hopefully.

The C Word

Yes it's that time of year again. No sooner has the credit card cooled down from the excess of Autumn term's new uniform and school shoes, along comes a whole new shopping opportunity beginning with C.

I'm not mentioning it by name , you all know what I'm talking about. Is it me or has it all become too much, too soon ? I used to be a big fan of the whole shebang but age has made me cynical .

So , this year it's going to be different . I'll be making my own C cards in very limited numbers ( always promised , never actually managed ). I shall be dispensing with the gluttonous trolley loads of C food ( with the exception of the wine of course ) that start piling up from the1st December and booking a local eatery instead for the day itself. I will also be turning down all C related invitations , especially those including reference to the word 'party' , with the exception of those with small amounts of true friends and/or involving alcohol. I will be refusing to be sucked into the whole C shopping fiasco, choosing instead to shop wisely online for immediate family only.

This is my plan. Whether I stick to it remains to be seen . Check back on december 26th and see if I managed to see it through.

What will you be doing differently this year ? I'd love to hear.

Back in the saddle

Feels like ages since I've designed a class so it's good to be working the grey matter again and putting together a class for our crop retreat at Eastbourne.

Thought I'd whet your appetite and give you a sneak peek of a few of the items I'll be using . This isn't a definitive snap of everything but just a smattering of some of the detail ... wouldn't want to give too much away now would I ?

Talking of saddles , just brushing up the finishing touches to my outfit for the 'Wild West" Saturday night . If anyone has a pair of leather chaps they could lend ?

Another Year ...

... as the title of my blog proclaims ... yet another year has bitten the dust . I said goodbye to my 53rd year yesterday and waved my 54th year over the threshold.

Hmmm .... 54 - not a bad number I suppose and being a mathematician made me think up the following :

2+3+4+5+6+7+8+9+10 = 54

There are 54 cards in a pack of playing cards ( including the jokers)

There are 54 squares on a Rubik's cube

Ally Pally Haul

I always love seeing what others have bought , so I thought I'd share a pic of what I picked up at the Scrapbooking show at Alexandra Palace on Saturday. Apologies for the rubbish photo but it's so dull outside today and I hate using flash.

An eclectic little pile . I was tickled pink to find the McGill tab punch which I've been hunting for years ( and reduced ) at Scrapshed's stand ! Bought the holly punch as it was only £1 , form the Everything a Pound stand -  can never resist a bargain.

You can just see the duck egg blue ( my all time favourite colour ) cardstock peeking out top left corner - 50 sheets of A4 for only £3 another bargain.

Not many papers to choose from but did find a few lovelies on Sugar and Spice's stand. Arrow stamps reduced to £7.50 courtesy of Scrapshed , my favourite charcoal chalk ink for a pound and a woodgrain Kaisercraft stamp for £2.99 .

Also delighted to find the new metalic Distress Stains on Artistic Stamper's stand plus the embossing dabber.

Also bought a roll of Prima washi tape ( can never have enough ) , a hexagon template and some heart shaped gems and chandelier drops. Lord only knows what I'll use them on but you never know when you might need one.

With a name like Gin and Tonic , I also had to buy the Indigo Blu gilding flakes and the Flitter Glu to stick them to the paper from Samuel Taylor's stand. I may use these at a class I'm doing in November.

Can't show you the rest as it's for the Advent Swap we do at our crop - so that would be giving the game away.

All in all a lovely day out , all the lovelier for being able to share the day with my buddies Kate and Emma and rounded off with our Gin and Tonic ritual out on the terrace admiring the skyline of London in the Autumn sunshine.

Work is so much lovelier ...

... when you have beautiful stationery on your desk . With this sentiment in mind, I felt justified in spending a teensy amount of money - well, teensy relative to the joy they will bring.

When they arrived this morning, my day was instantly brightened and I almost expected them to fly out of the packaging.

If you're coveting them already, you can buy them from an online eBay store called The Journal Shop . I may have to go there in person, as they're only in Ealing, and see for myself how beautiful their notebooks would look alongside my feathered friends.

SAHM

... as the Americans call it or Stay at Home Mum as we Brits prefer . That's what I am . I'm trying to think of an alternative translation of those initials. Maybe - Sanity Altering Hateful Menopause might be more appropriate.

So, the dust has settled on the unpacked holiday suitcases, the flip- flops have been consigned to the cupboard under the stairs until next year and the school term is in full ( ish ) swing. That means one thing ... homework and lots of it. I know a lot more about the negative effects of tourism on the human geography of the Inca Trail in Maccu Picchu than I did last night and I also now realise that not sending in the rugby kit on a Wednesday was a BIG no-no. I have been conscripted to bake cakes for the Autumn Fair next weekend ( hurrah ) but have had to stump up a large wodge of cash for a French trip next Spring term ( boo ) .

School life has a momentum all of its own, punctuated by lesson-free half terms, peppered with the odd piano lesson or latest free-time whim and  sleep-in weekends. Talking of which, my new most hated newspaper article is the one where childless couples talk of Saturday Brunch at the Savoy and lazy Sunday lunches at Boutique hotels, followed by labrador walks and country pubs before heading home to London to park their Porsche in their Mayfair Mews. Don't these people realise what they're missing ? What self-respecting Sunday night would be complete without a search for the elusive PE kit that's festering in the bottom of a muddy sports bag , a row about undone homework and a scrabble for an empty shoebox and a green ( must be green ) pipe-cleaner required for Monday morning's art class ?

So my new acronym for SAHM could be ... Sunday Always Heralds Mayhem.

College Boy

Well , he started this morning . I'd like to say it went without a hitch . He diligently set his alarm last night for 8 O Clock  .... shame it was 8 pm instead of 8 am. I was tempted to let him find out the hard way but couldn't allow myself to let him sleep in and be late. So here he is , setting off to a whole new world. If he was nervous , he didn't show it . My big boy now . And the bonus is ... I didn't have to sew in a single name tape

This cake , in numbers ...

850 : Grams of sugar in recipe

8 :        Hours to make

3 :       Freshly laundered, white, school shirts smeared with chocolate accidentally whilst making, thereby requiring re-laundering

4:        Attempts to soften frosting to usable consistency after refrigerating

700 : Approximate calories per ( small ) slice

15 :    New swear words invented during preparation

3 :       Trips to supermarket to purchase forgotten ingredients

133 : Page number of Hummingbird Bakery " Cake Days" cookery book containing recipe      so that you can rip it from the book and discard forever

1 :      Layer dropped on kitchen floor whilst removing from oven

9 :      Minutes taken to devour

10 :     Reasons ( see above) to  never, ever, ever attempt to make this cake

V Proud Mummy

My eldest passed ALL of his GCSEs - have to allow myself a quick boast here ....

We've been on tenterhooks all summer but at last the dreaded envelope arrived last Friday when we were away on holiday . Had to wait until he phoned us , en route home from Switzerland , with the news.

2 A's  , 3 B's and 4 C's  . Over the moon !!  

This was no easy feat for him as he's struggled at school from day one and has spent the last

4 years at a Special School where the teachers , finally , were able to give him the support and assistance he needed. It's been one hell of an uphill climb but the mountain was worth conquering and now he can admire the view from the top .

Well Done my love.

Holiday Deja Vu

I'm pretty sure I could just cut and paste my holiday review each year as it tends to be identical and it goes something like .....

Laundry , packing, more laundry , drive , drive, drive, are we there yet ? arrive , eat too much, drink too much, more packing, drive ,drive,drive, are we home yet , unpacking, more laundry and so it goes .

Although this year we had a whole new layer of holiday hell - Chicken pox , or as I now know what that is in Swiss German - Windpocken . Youngest son went down with it on day 3. Most of my holiday spenders went on the Swiss equivalent of calamine lotion and antihistamine ... oh and we spent the best part of the week in solitary confinement playing cards and doing jigsaw puzzles. It was the one occasion in my life when I found myself praying for the distraction of an X Box for my poor boy.

The scenery remained achingly beautiful and the lake water just as icy as it ever was - a good antidote for the itching . Although I then had to go in too and at one point , thought I'd died of the cold. The lake is fed from melted water from the glaciers of the Eiger and Jungfrau - enough said.

Still, it could have been worse , I could have gone down with it too . Now I come to mention it , I do have a rather itchy spot on my back .

Last day ...

... of the Olympics , so in my attempt to continue our "Olympics for Free' quest , we travelled up to London and walked along the Thames to Tower Bridge. The pathway was rammed but everyone was very jolly and it all felt very cosmopolitan. The Olympics 'feeling' was almost palpable .

It was good night to be up in town , rewarded by a spectacular ( oops ... a bit of Olympic hyperbole creeping in there ) view of Tower Bridge with its illuminated Olympic Rings.

So a quiet night on the telly tonight , back to normal , whatever that is.

Go Wiggo

We went to see Bradley Wiggins win his Gold Medal today and what a great way to see the Olympics ... for free ! Quite extraordinary seeing him ride by so close.
A great day for Great Britain.

A ticket at last ?

No, not Willy Wonka's Golden Ticket ( but might as well be given their elusiveness ) but a ticket for the Closing Ceremony. In fact, not just one but four ... I'm on the website now and can hardly believe my luck ... but wait ... what is this ... only Band A available ?  ..... hang on , let me check the price ... £1500 per ticket ?  ...... so the four of us can go to the ball and it will only cost us .... £6000 ?????

Maybe not.

It's high time I posted some layouts

In spite of the  red wine , newly invented cocktails ( did we really coin the phrase Manka Wan*** ??? for the mango / vodka based tipple you plied us with Emma ? ) ,  frequent snack and meal breaks and endless giggling , we did manage to get a bunch of layouts finished at Emma's this weekend. I'm amazed we ever get any scrapping done at all . It is pure joy to spend time with these lovely ladies .... and Kate , you definitely won the tennis ... hands down or should I say bottoms up ?

Until September then ...

Here's what I would wear/carry to the Olympics ...

                                                                                        

 ... having just heard Seb Coe tell us on Radio 4 this morning that he wasn't sure if you'd be allowed to wear Nike ( not an Olympic sponsor ... sorry partner .. . although that would imply, erroneously in this case, that both parties had a say in the matter ) trainers into the stadium  ... that is if I'd shelled out what it would cost to inoculate 1000 children from Malaria in Africa for a ticket.

Wonder if they'd let me in .

Silver Lining

There's only one thing tobe said in favour of feeling ill and that is being able to do nothing. We so rarely get a chance to slow down to a near standtill that when the body tells us to stop , we're at loss to know how. I'm sitting by the banks of the Thames keeping an eye on my son who's doing his best to capsize his mates in their kayaks. Thank goodness for life vests is all I can say. I've been sitting around all day in fact whilst they play and already I've taught myself how to needle felt, make a chevron friendship bracelet and written another poem. And all from the comfort of an easy chair , a magazine and my iPad. Time to go though , they've all just been hauled off the river by the boatyard man who suspects their antics are't in the interests of sportsmanship but rather that they're intent on proving their daredevilry. Can't take 13 year olds anywhere ! !

10 Tips to Beat the Wet Weather Blues

Not the usual .... 'well the garden needs it ' baloney but somewhat more imaginativeI hope. Please report back and let me know if any of these work for you .

1. Find a weather app for your phone/ ipad /pc /mac and set it for your home town ... but in another part of the world. I've just found a Teddington in New Zealand where, despite the fact that it's their winter , the sun is shining every day .

2. Ditch any attempts to style your hair it will only end up in a wiry frizz. Instead go buy some outrageous hair accesssory ( Accessorize have a half price sale on right now ) and wear it with pride. I'm sporting green dreadlocks today.

3. Stuff the BBQ - burnt sausages are vastly over-rated. Buy tins of warming comfort food like baked beans and rice pudding - cheap and cheerful too.

4. Do NOT attempt to emulate the picnic experience by pretending to hold one in your living room with your plethora of Cath Kidston picnicware, as the magazines suggest, to entertain your kids. There is nothing sadder than a pretend picnic in a grey living room and you will only spill blackcurrant squash on the carpet. Tell them that they've got to play on the X box all day and will likely have to for the next two weeks. Result - guilt free peace and quiet all round and remind yourself frequently that X Boxes and Play-stations improve your children's hand to eye co-ordination.

5. Buy wine by the box. Cheaper than the bottled variety and makes the evening pass surprisingly swiftly . This has the added benefit of rendering the following morning a fuzzy experience in which to ignore the morning's weather forecast.

6. Talking of which, ignore the weather forecast. you know what it's going to say . Instead invent a few Sun Newspaper style headlines , such as Wet Wash-out Weekend Wreaks Havoc in the West or Blustery Gales Batter Britain . This has the added benefit of improving your children's grasp of onomatopoeia.

7. Cancel all outdoor engagements and go internet shopping instead. Nothing like a parcel in the post to bring cheer and it's your postman who'll get wet , not you , although we like our postman- apologies Dave.

8. Chuck out your sun screen. It wastes space in your bathroom cabinet and no-one likes that greasy experience of oily hands anyway. Stay pale , it's the new cool.

9. Make Christmas Cards. One less thing to do come December.

10. Adjust your calendar. Tear off July, August and September and just pretend you've gone straight to September without passing jail. Don't forget to collect £200 when you pass Go.


And if all else fails , you can always cheer yourself up by thinking it could be worse ... at least there's no Glastonbury this year.

The Old Lie

Jonathan Ross once tweeted,  when he was still on The BBC's film programme , in reply to a 'fan' who told him on Twitter that he should stop , it was boring,  " I'd just watch something else if I were you "

The trouble is , I suspect that from the 24th July onwards,  there will be precious little on TV to watch apart from the Olympics. I quite like sport but in small doses . I resent the over-blown commercial nature of the Games and the fact that every poster I've seen to date, depicts an air brushed super-model in some form of lycra. Can't sports men and women just look normal ? Fit by all means but normal.

Every Sunday glossy magazine has a bunch of Team GB glamour girls done up to the nines in evening wear and killer heels. is it not enough for school children to try their hardest at running, jumping , throwing and catching without having to look as if they've just entered a beauty contest ? And god forbid if you can't run a triathlon or two before teatime without breaking into a sweat. That would imply that we just aren't competing hard enough or are is some way , grossly inadequate.

When I was about 9 or 10 , as soon as Wimbledon came on the telly , all of us would be out in the street knocking about a few balls with our trusty Dunlop Maxplys. That wouldn't cut the mustard these days. If you hadn't been enrolled into tennis camp by the time you were 5 , or been spotted by a tennis scout for Junior Wimbledon by the age of 8, you'd be deemed a write-off. It's all about being better , stronger and sadly angrier . You only have to look at the furious and contorted grimaces of some of the tennis players these days as they score another point against their opponents, to notice that their demeanor is more that of a gladiator , fist triumphant in the air , the sniff of victory in their nostrils, rather than that of a conscientious sportsman. And as for all that grunting on court ... oh please.

And since when did MacDonalds and Coca Cola have anything to do with a healthy diet such as might be promoted in the pursuit of sport ? It really is all about money , nothing more and nothing less ... oh and being better than everyone else at the expense of true sportsmanship. When Rupert Murdoch can pay £3 billion pounds just to show Premier League football for 3 years, then you know the world truly has gone mad. Doubtless that could write off a sizeable chunk of third world debt, releasing millions from a life of poverty and disease but no , lets spend it on fueling the millionaire footballers lifestyles ... after all their WAGS can never have enough handbags. Don't get me started.  

So I'm afraid I've turned into a grumpy old woman with regards to this Olympic nonsense . At the risk of offending sports fanatics, I've written a poem , which anyone studying English Lit for GCSE will immediately recognise. With apologies to Wilfred Owen .... 

Spent double , like old suckers, over-taxed

Squeezed dry,  coughing up like saps, we cursed through drudge,

Till on the telly we turned our backs

And towards our PCs began to trudge

Politicians droned on, many had lost their wits

But carried on, regardless, regurgitating spin 

Drunk with fatigue , deaf to their endless drivel 

About “The greatness of The Olympic Spirit”

Tickets ! Tickets ! Quick boys , they’re on the internet,

Filling in the clumsy forms , but not in time

Someone was still desperately fumbling for the synchronised swimming

Flound’ring like a man posessed

Dim through the misty screen and tawdry 2012 logo

As if under a spell, I saw him paying thousands.

In all my dreams, with wallet open

He plunges at me , greed infested whining

If you too could see, on the Olympic site

The pathetic goading of self interested, hyped celebrity

of being proud to be a part of this scandalous hoax

And watch his credit card ignite with debt

His gloating face , pound signs rolling in his eyes, 

If you could fathom how thousands for a seat at

some indulgent Opening Ceremony farce can be accepted,

Whilst half the world lies dying of starvation

Obscene consumerism at its worst 

And in the name, supposedly, of sport

Of vile corporate hospitality and MacDonalds sponsorship

Thinly disguised as ‘ uniting a nation’

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate Wayne Rooney style glory

The Old Lie : Dulce et decorum est pecuniam donare quam perdere caritatem et salute *

* Roughly Translates as “ It is good and fitting to waste your money instead of saving lives by donating to charity

From the sublime to the ridiculous

It's been a bit of a rude shock to return to temperatures of under 20 degrees and rain when we've spent the week basking in 37 degrees and upwards. Funny how quickly you acclimatise to the heat - maybe it's the fact that you get to do nothing more strenuous than swim all day and have all your meals cooked for you.

We've just returned from a fabulous holiday - the sort I thought I'd never like and yet it was like paradise. This may be partly due to the fact that it was all inclusive,  a blessing when you're traveling with 2 Coca Cola addicted kids and a husband who loves beer, gin and tonic but not necessarily in the same glass . Everything was on tap - drinks, watersports, meals.
The boys were over the moon . They were able to do their own thing and eldest son hooked up with a bunch of like-minded teens - we hardly saw him all week ( another blessing if you've ever dragged a reluctant teen on holiday with you) . What make s holiday though ( apart from the sun , the sea and the endless supply of free food and drink ) is the people you meet . We met a wonderful bunch of like minded families and haven't laughed so much in ages ... this also meant DH and I didn't have to bore the pants off eachother - yet another bonus.
Our daily routine went something like this ...

Rise early
Swim in the warm waters of the Aegean Sea
Breakfast on the terrace
Maybe a lap of the pool
Down to  the Sunset Bar for a Turkish coffee
Snooze on the sun deck with a good book and Factor 30
Maybe a G&T or two before lunch
Another sumptuous buffet feast for lunch with enough Rose to bring on a siesta
A spot of windsurfing or snorkelling in the afternoon
Afternoon tea with Turkish pastries and Baclava overlooking the sea
A beer ... or three to while away the afternoon
Shower before dinner
(Think I may have missed the G&T at the aptly named Sunset bar to watch the sun go down
Where and what to eat ... decisions decisions
Off to the village square in the evening for whatever entertainment has been laid on
Wander back through the Night Scented Jasmine filled gardens to bed
...and then it all starts all over again the following day.

And here are the pictures in case you thought I was making it all up.