Thursday, 26 March 2015

Tingles? No, I said shingles!

I owe all critters and other bitey type creatures an apology. It wasn't one of them that was causing the itchy, stabby, I want to claw my face off thing I had going on yesterday. It was in actual fact, shingles. Oh happy day. Lucky me. If you too want to be lucky, just come and see me in the next couple of days and let's touch foreheads and then you too could have the itchy/stabby/burny thing. No? Don't blame you really...

It's not the best thing I've ever had. For one it really looks unattractive. Somehow kids with the pox type thing never look that bad but a grown up? Hmmm not such a great style choice. 

And it hurts. 

My doc advised me to take time off work due to the age group of the people I work with. Rang my boss. She tried to pretend she cared but I didn't really feel the love coming through. Luckily I have a whole lotta love from a whole lotta other people though as already have had delivery of two bunches of flowers and some hot cross buns. Yay! 

So I'll be here on the sofa for a while. Itching, burning, stabbing. Do you think it's punishment for enjoying Brighton too much? *sick face* 

Wednesday, 25 March 2015

Do Over

Oh Wednesday, what did I do to deserve today? What a day! Grand plans were planned, I was going to Stokesley with my Ma, I was meeting one of my learners from my job to get some signatures, we were going to eat cake and drink tea and wander aimlessly in the Spring sunshine. NUH-UHHHH! My car wouldn't start! Zzhum zzhum zzhum ... Nothing. Kaput. Poor little Zippy. He's totally sulking as he's been parked up for days whilst I've been away. There'll be a serious talking to and jump leads later. 

Next up let's talk evil bitey creatures/critters. Something of said evil bitey nature has munched on me good and proper. And where are these delightful bitey things? One is smack bang in the centre of my forehead and is bright red, sore, and SO ITCHY I WANT TO MAUL MY FACE OFF! The other one is on my eyelid. My eyelid! I mean, what?! So hurty *sad face* With both of those things combined my upper head looks like some sort of demonic red and swollen thing. Nice! 

While we're at it, what is with this cold? This cold will not die! I swear I've had it for the whole of Winter now. Today I have spent £13 of my hard earned cash in some echinacea in an attempt to get it gone and good! Enough already. Like seriously. 

So that is Wednesday. Good times or what? Should have just stayed in bed...

Tuesday, 24 March 2015

Brighton Belles

I first encoutered Brighton when I was a student in London a hundred years ago. I had two friends who were from down that way and I used to get the coach from London (£7 day return!), meet them there, and we'd spend the whole day running in and out of the waves on the pebbley beach and exploring the Laines. I loved it every single time and always knew I would be back. And I was. The weekend just gone.

As a kind of belated birthday celebration I arranged a girls weekend away with my Brighton Belles, call them my main ladies: Fizz, Tizz, and Deb-izz. Sadly, Fizz couldn't join us as she was struck down by the f-cold that may be a little like the f-bomb in that it almost flattened her (out). Boo to the hoo. Sad as we were, we couldn't let it stop us from having the best of times. 

So much fun times. We walked (miles), we explored, we ate outrageously expensive 99 icecream cones (surely a 99 is supposed to be 99p and not £2.50...?), we ate soup out of jars, drank cocktails, walked (more miles), hunted for legs, ate stacks of yummy food, waaaay too much cake (I think my cake hangover came in at 2 days, still feel a bit queasy when I think about it to be honest), had lots of laughter and fun and all round happy times. Here's some visuals:




I had the best weekend. Big thanks to my Brighton Belles for agreeing to join me, and roll on the next annual trip, cos we totally decided that we have to have an annual ladies trip away now. Now I'm just counting down the days until my next trip when I get to see the ever fab Miss Tizz in fair London town. See you soon, lady!

 

Tuesday, 17 March 2015

Why now?!

Warning: this post contains a lot of complaining. If you are challenged in the compassion department do not read any further.

I haven't had a cold all winter. I've been getting lots of vitamin C and avoiding infected people and keeping my hands clean and generally doing all the right things, and I've been smugly healthy until now. So why oh why oh why do I have to go and get a nasty, poxy chest cold just days before I'm due to go on a jolly jaunt? My chest hurts, my throat is raw, I can't sleep for coughing, I'm alternating between shivering and sweating, everything aches, wah, wah, wah!

I suppose on the grand scale of things my having a cold is not the worst thing that's happening in the world right now. I shouldn't complain. But stuff it, I'm being selfish, and I am complaining. No fair. NO FAIR.

Silver lining: no one is going to want to share a room with Phlegm Woman, so I might get my own room...

Wednesday, 4 March 2015

February Fail

Year of Craft, two months in, total fail. Oh well. In my defence we were packing up to move house and so crafting took kind of a back burner...

Month 3: Mad March. Will there be more than one craft to make up for it? Will there even be a craft at all?! Stay tuned...

Sunday, 1 March 2015

The little magic pot

Cardboard, newspaper, bubble wrap, packing tape, constant washing up, cold weather, hot rooms - all of the above have played absolute havoc with my hands in the past couple of weeks. The result is hands that look like they belong to someone who is 107 and worked outdoors every day of their lives. Dry, cracked, red, and downright sore! Not good at all. I tried various handcreams and the like but to no avail. And then I remembered this little pot:

Don't be fooled by the simple packaging - this little pot holds magical properties! I've been lathering it on first thing on a morning and then last thing at night and slowly but surely my 107 year old hands are slowly starting to resemble the hands that are in fact 40 years old. I'm declaring it - this pot is a little pot of magic! 

The magic didn't stop there. As well as hands of 107 year old people, I also had shins that were soooo itchy I wanted to tear all my skin off, until this little magic pot stepped up to the podium. Three nights with this little gem smothered all over my legs just before bed and they have been restored to normal Winter legs *happy dance* 

Today some little critter bit me in the garage so I've tried putting it on that too. Basically, any ailment of any kind now and this little pot of magic is my go to. I'm already getting worried as it's almost at scraping the barrel stage, definitely time for a new order. 

I've checked their website out and the company are all kinds of fab. The little pot of magic is made right here in Britain, they are BUAV approved, they have won several awards, the product contains nothing chemical or nasty in it at all...are you feeling the love right there? MOA: it's magic and marvellous, and it's under a tenner! 

If my rave review hasn't convinced you, pop on over to their website here and have a look for yourself. Highly recommended. 
 

Friday, 27 February 2015

The working man

It's week two in the new house and for the next 3-4 weeks we essentially have workmen coming in to do stuff every week. Luckily, as I work part time from home this isn't too much of a problem but as I sit here typing away, I always wonder about the workmen. What do they think as they go about the house doing their thing with all their tools and chargers and big vans parked outside - do they think that desk work is for wimps?

I grew up in a working household. My Pops is a mechanic and since he was 15 he has worked with his hands every single day, including weekends as he ran his own business for many of my growing up years. And now, even though he's supposed to be retired, when he's not at his job for the 2 days he still does, he's in his garage, working on one of his cars or a car for someone else. All my life he's worn overalls and smelled slightly of oil and petrol fumes. He genuinely doesn't understand 'blokes' who work from a desk all day. 

I work with my hands quite a lot in my free time, painting and building at the theatre, but in my work time I'm a desk-bod. I go to work in my little work outfits and I spend much of the day answering emails and wading through paperwork. When I work from home, I might be dressed more casually (never in my PJs I hasten to add!) but I'm still tap-tap-tapping away for much of the day. It's an odd life. Sometimes I think it would be pretty cool to spend all day doing the painting and building thing, but I'll bet in reality it's cold and makes you ache like a demon. 

I often wonder what my niece and nephew will do when they work. At the moment nephew wants to be a professional basketball/football player and niece wants to be a teacher/YouTube star. Diverse then...less and less people work with their hands and more and more people are deskbound. I have no idea where I'm going with this, it's just some random Friday thoughts for you. What do you think? Is desk work for wimps? Will bloggers and YouTubers eventually take over the world and we'll all be working from our homes having no makeup days and talking to a camera? Will workmen/women cease to exist? But how will we learn plumbing skills?! Yikes!