Wednesday, 22 February 2012

My Nieces Love Me!

Yes, I have two wonderful nieces who are not only very talented, but also know and understand me exceptionally well.  Which is presumably why this morning in the post, these arrived:

Amigurumi John and Sherlock by Phoebe Grassby
Made by my nimble fingered niece, Phoebe, here are John and Sherlock, amigurumi style.  I love the way they are wearing little handcuffs, as in the last episode of Season Two - sniff!  You can buy Phoebe's patterns at her Etsy shop here.

And Phoebe's twin sister Amelia is also creative.  And knows me worryingly well.  This is what she sent me for Christmas:
Handmade Benny Calendar by Amelia Wray
 Yes, she made it herself.  It must have taken her ages to write out all the days and draw all those lines, and they are HAND done, no computing here, thank you.

And this is my birthday month.   Of course, what else?

Handmade Benny Calendar by Amelia Wray

Thank you my darlings, you make me feel so wonderful! 

Thursday, 16 February 2012

Thirty Years

My Parents Wedding, September 1956
My dad died thirty years ago today.  Most people only get one dad, but I've been lucky enough to have two wonderful ones, and I am remembering them both today with smiles.

My mother and I with my 'Wicked' stepfather, Peter

Thursday, 2 February 2012

It came in the post today!

Just when you figure life is full of lemons, (even if they are travelling lemons), something like this happens.  This morning I was half way through today's writing - just over 3.300 words and still counting -  when this turned up on the post:
'Go Away I'm writing' bag by What The Dickens
How good is that, guys?  Many thanks to my splendiferous friend Sara for thinking of me. xxx

Oh, and a note to Claudina: I tried to take a photo of the spangley sequin mini skirt so I could show you, because as you say, it is very jolly, but the sequins are black, and it didn't come out.  So you'll just have to imagine me in a black, spangley, and very jolly sequin mini skirt.  Sorry.

Wednesday, 1 February 2012

Clear Blue View

I'm going to talk about something people don't usually mention.

I'm 44 years old and I'm three weeks late.

Yep, not good.

So last night, my husband and I had 'The Talk'.  The one where we hunker down and go through the ramifications of what we are going to do IF.  Even though we both know there is no IF, because rationally, for reasons I shall not go into for fear of making you, and him, blush, it just ain't possible.  But the fact remains that I am late.  And three weeks for me is a seriously big deal.  You are talking to the woman who, throughout her twenties, could time her periods by her watch.  Every fourth Thursday, 10am.  Clockwork.  Even when I was anorexic.  Never missed a bloody one, even when I was six and a half stone.  Never had a scare that was any longer than four days.  Never.

And then we went down to the 24 hour supermarket and bought a pregnancy test.

(Which would have been fine if we hadn't bumped into an old acquaintence at the checkout, and believe you me, when you are 44 and 3 weeks late, you don't want to be caught with a Clearview pack at 8pm in Tesco by someone you haven't seen in 10 years, and who has a basket full of Johnsons baby wipes because they've just had their THIRD!)

And then did the three minutes of sweating and waiting for the test to prove NEGATIVE, just as we knew it would.

And then we were both sad.

Not that we in any way regret the choice of being childfree that life has dealt us.  I know that being a mother is just not right for me, not simply because of my health, but because of my temperament.  I don't have the patience or the interest, and I am terrified of schools.  But still.  It might have been my last chance.  And thats a very miserable thought.

So now I am 44 years old and 3 weeks late and definitely NOT pregnant (but mourning very slightly).  Which can only mean one thing:


And believe me, I am just not, in any way, shape or form, ready for that.  I dye my hair, for Gods' sake.  I am in total denial of my wrinkles and age spots, and the fact that I can remember the Winter of Discontent and the drought of 1976.  I just bought a sequinned mini skirt!  This can't be happening!  Pregnancy would have been a picnic by comparison! (And before you go wondering about my health and all the other things that could make me miss, let me put your mind at rest.  I'm pretty sure that it can't be something nasty in that particular woodshed because menopause comes pretty early amongst the women in my family.  But I will get it checked, just to put your mind at ease.)  So here I am, curled up on the sofa, waiting for Mr Flow to come to town, and having a mid-life crisis.