The sun is shining

I have a really good book and a really warm back garden and can't think of a better way to 'waste' an hour or two, later. We have a gardener coming tomorrow to prune the ceanothus and other large items I can't reach. And we refuse pointblank to purchase a chain saw. A power tool in my hands would be too great a risk. I'm accident prone. I managed to cut my hand last year whilst trying to open a can of wood stain, so I could treat the decking area. I regularly bump, cut, scrape or burn myself, so shudder to imagine what mayhem I could create with a chainsaw. And the puppy might circle into view at a crucial moment in the pruning process and find herself minus a tail, or worse.
Kate is the lovely and highly knowledgeable woman who does our garden twice a year. She is very reasonable, knows what she's talking about, and leaves the garden looking beautiful. I would upload a photo, if I wasn't the sort of low rent blogger who isn't quite sure how to. What is the use of a blog without pictures ? (to partially quote Lewis Carroll)
Speaking of Lewis Carroll, have you seen photos of the new Alice in Wonderland movie directed by Tim Burton ? Predictably enough, it stars Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter (if I was his wifey, I'd insist on a starring role too ) and the makeup is incredible. I love Tim Burton movies. He's eccentric bordering on crazy, but always pulls back from the brink of unfettered madness to produce classic movies which stand the test of time. Charlotte watched Edward Scissorhands for the first time last week and adored it. It's a good antidote to the formulaic drivel usually thrust upon kids, in the hope they wont notice, which is stupid because a) kids are clever; many kids are cleverer than many grown ups and b ) kids love to be scared

the self indulgent post you can skip

I told a friend about my blog yesterday.
She was quite shocked at my enthusiasm to share private feelings and thoughts with all of Blogville. She is also shocked at social networking sites in general, finding them quite menacing and unnecessary. The thing is, we give as much as we are willing to share. Most bloggers leave out deeply personal reflections. Those are best saved for a handwritten tome stashed under the mattress. I'm just glad I didn't write a diary or a blog in my teens and early twenties. Oh, the self indulgent angst ridden twaddle that would have been !
At 36, I still ( on occasion ) have a propensity towards thin-skinned vulnerability.
I disguise it cleverly with lashings of strategically placed optimism and jovial good humour, the sort guaranteed to grate heavily on the nerves of those around me, from time to time. But like most people, I fall somewhere in the middle of lifes emotional barometer. I am neither Miss.Sunshine nor Miss.Grumpy. I know what's required of me and badger on in a mostly satisfied ( if not ecstatic) state of mind. I would love to be one of those naturally effervescent women, the kind who fizz even when the world around them has gone flat. But, I think I will always have the distant noise of self doubt in my ear. I can link it all the way back to childhood, when my Dad died. I realized then what a volatile world we live in, how circumstances can change dramatically and often in the most random way imaginable. The days of cast iron certainties were truly behind me and the future was a much more forbidding prospect.
I realized that I'd been living in a safe bubble. I envy the untroubled simplicity of children, and hope my girls can look back at a carefree youth, a golden childhood. It's what we all deserve.

Car Bills

Why do unexpectedly huge car bills always always arrive 24 hours after booking a holiday ?
It's been an expensive month. The fridge freezer died. We had to replace it. The ensuite saniflo is making weird noises so we have Mr.Saniflo coming tomorrow to `clean through the pipes thoroughly`
( rather him than me ) and we just booked a holiday to Spain. Holidays are optional I know, but we booked it before hearing Gavin's car needed a new clutch and starter motor. I knew it was going to be grim when man-at-garage asked me if I was sitting down. I was; in my car, which will never need a clutch because it's an automatic. I have a manual driving license but prefer to live in a world without gear changes, hill starts and handbrakes. I spent the afternoon boring my neighbour with all this, over several cups of coffee.
I am optimistic. July will be a month of sunshine and frugality.

crying in unison

Charlotte was unhappy today.
She was given the part of a Celtic woman in the grand graduation production at school and she desperately wanted to be Boudica. Well actually, she just wanted the starring role, so if that meant playing Elvis/Mary/Dorothy/LukeSkywalker, she would have been chomping at the bit for it. (I don't even want to imagine what she would be like at stage school. The word Diva springs to mind.)
She doesn't want to be a `stupid celtic woman who says about three stupid words, humph `
and she cried hot tears all the long walk from home, distressing the chihuahua who kept veering dangerously away from the kerb. And then Rebecca fell over. When Rebecca falls over, even it's only a minor scrape which leaves no discernible mark, she wails as if someone has poked her in the eye with a blunt stick. She screamed so loudly a car actually pulled over and asked if we were OK.
I looked at the spot she was gesturing towards, expecting a six inch wound in urgent need of some surgical clips, but nothing. She wanted a `special squishy Mummy huggy` which she got, complete with an ice lolly from local shop. Ever feel emotionally manipulated ?

sleepover

Charlotte has a friend over for a hastily- last- minute- arranged-sleepover
and as I type the girls ( Charlotte, Rebecca and Charlotte's friend Kathryn)
are lying on Charlotte's bed watching The Simpsons movie.
( which Charlotte has seen about 78 times but still roars with laughter every time)
And after a pretty grey, sludgy start to a dismal day, I feel OK.
More than OK. All is well in the world today.
The girls are happy and we ( the husband and myself ) are settling down to a delightfully vacuous evening of reality TV trash interjected with a cold beer or glass of something cold and 13%proof. I've been looking again at holiday options in Southern Spain.
I bloody love Spain.
I adore the food, the people, the climate, the wine, the beaches, the football and the passion.
I would live there, if I spoke fluent Espanol. ( I don't. I can speak pretty good French and conversational German but my Spanish is utter utter rubbish, something I intend to rectify and soon )

Wasting Time On the Interweb

It's a favourite hobby, shallow though that may be.
Yesterday I filled a virtual basket at net-a-porter with about 10k's worth of designer dresses I couldn't afford and had no intention of actually buying. ( you might be right, I might be weird )
It's very therapeutic. I ordered one of these :
http://www.net-a-porter.com/product/42269
A snip at £1400, don't you think ?
And these ( not to go with the same outfit, I hasten to add )
http://www.net-a-porter.com/product/48255
And obviously, handbags a plenty :
http://www.net-a-porter.com/product/38546
Then I emptied my virtual basket and drove to Matalan where I bought a black papaya t-shirt for £4. Stella McArtney wouldn't sell a black tee for less than a fiver, would she ? !

The Apprentice

The interviews tonight.
Job interviews which resemble no interview I've ever had....even the most capable candidates were royally shafted and publically humiliated by Sralan and Co. It was such a giant farce; clearly all of Sralan's hotshot buddies had been prepped with enough raw ammo to bring each candidate crumbling to their knees, for the sake of good telly. Behold the multimillionare business magnates who make shitloads of money by apparently being rude and scary and as appealing as a cup of cold sick, all at the same time. Oh please, give me a passport to the world of high powered global business. Not.
What the hell was James thinking with that comment on his CV about `spunking up the wall ?`
What the hell was Yasmina thinking with her half truths about her company turnover ?
Why was Kate wearing so much brown eye shadow ?
Why doesn't someone give Lorraine a tub of Pantene and a hairbrush ? ( actually, she looked lovely on You've been Fired; incredible what water, shampoo and professional makeup can do )
I am guiltily entertained by the Apprentice, whilst at the same time depressed by the possibility that being a highflyer in business might entail ruthless bitchery, backstabbing and unprofessionalism.
Kate was wrong about women in business. I've had various female bosses over the years and my best bosses were always female. I can't remember a female boss I didn't enjoy working with.
I worked for two wonderful female managers in Oxford. They were supportive, caring, diplomatic and extremely capable. Men are capable of partaking in salacious gossip. I hate gender stereotyping.