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Pride and Raspberries

See that there picture? Do ya? Do ya?   –>

The one that says “Winner” in large letters for the NaNoWriMo challenge ?   –>

Well…er…..that’s not me.

That there Winner’s certificate belongs to none other that my darling daughter, who embraced the challenge and completed just after 9pm last night 😀

Am I proud? You bet! <puffs up like a puffed-up proud thing> 😀

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Fuelling the Flames

I confess: I’m a Bookaholic, a bookworm, if you prefer. I love to read and always have, spending most of my schooldays with my nose in a book.

Admittedly, these days, I tend to read in fits and starts, depending on how much time I can squeeze away from doing mundane things like eating and sleeping. Fortunately, it is possible to read whilst eating and a little light reading before going to sleep is usually a good way to wind down. I say usually, because it is not unknown for me to read all night, or at least until the chorus of over-enthusiastic avian abuse hurling that heralds the dawn reminds me that I probably won’t be much use to man or beast unless I get at least a short power nap. (more…)

Wheel of Misfortune

So, there I was, pootling along the M4, with a car full of family and a trailer full of Medieval tent and all the other paraphenalia required for a weekend’s trading at Firejoust, when there is a sudden clunk and shudder. I glance in the wing mirror to see my trailer wheel bouncing across three lanes of motorway into the fast lane.

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Travails in Essex – Part 3 (The Journey Home)

A very good weekend has been had by all, disasters have been surmounted and all that remains is to pack up and head for home, warm baths and dinner.

I join the throng of traders trooping off to retrieve their vehicles and the subsequent queue of cars and vans waiting to get back in through the gate. I head over to where the trailer has lain in various states of repair all weekend and haul it over to hitch it up to the car. Something doesn’t seem right.

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Travails in Essex – Part 2 (Wonderful People)

So, having been rescued from the verge of the A12 and almost certain dessication and carbon monoxide poisoning, we find ourselves in a paradisical oasis called “Services”. Here we avail ourselves of the facilities; food, water and toilets, all the trappings of civilisation, are once again within our reach.

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Travails in Essex – Part 1

I should be unpacking the car, doing laundry, putting things away and generally doing all the things necessary to get back to normality after a weekend away trading. (Think – camping holiday with odd clothes, accounts, stock takes and a stupidly large, heavy tent). Instead, I thought I might share some of the weekend’s events with you over a second cup of coffee (unusual for me as I rarely drink coffee at all, let alone two cups). Copious quantities of coffee, however, are absolutely essential to prop open my exceedingly weary eyelids this morning, but you’ll have to wait until a subsequent post to find out why. I will just say that this was going to be entitled “Having a Hestia Time”, which should give you an inkling if you are familiar with Hestia’s trials and tribulations. If you haven’t read her blog, you really should.

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What Happened?

Where have all those weeks since I last posted gone? April seems to have swept by in a haze of uncharacteristic warmth.  Blossoms have come and gone, the dusty yellow pollen coating everything has finally been washed away by this weekend’s rain and the world has settled into the lush greenery of late Spring in England.

So, what have I been doing that kept me from writing for so long?

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Pestilent Plumbing

I decided that my roots were well overdue for a retouch. As a natural <cough> blonde <cough> (they’re not grey hairs, really, some of them  just grow out a bit fairer than the others) they tend to show up.

Anyway, if you are not aware, my hair has been a dark purple for a couple of years or so. Perhaps not the best colour to choose if you have fairish hair, as you can’t really get away with the roots being so dramatically different (remind me to go back to blonde, soon!).  So, as I’m off to Bath with the girls for the weekend, I thought I might as well spruce meself up a tad. Bad plan!

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NaNoWriMo

No, it isn’t the sound of a police car crashing. It’s the annually held National Novel Writing Month and I’ve signed up! Mind you, it may well end up being the sound of the ambulance bearing  men in white coats coming to scrape up what is left of my sanity in December. OMG! What was I thinking? 50,000 words in 30 days is a totally mad idea.

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Culling the Dust Bunnies

Last week saw the demise of the old Hoover. I suppose I should give it its due and recognise the faithful service of something in the order of 15 years, but of late the bags had developed an annoying tendency to explode and the brush head kept falling off, so I can’t honestly say I shed any tears.

Technically, it does actually still run – only the hose handle is broken – but given its age, the likelihood of finding a spare before the inevitable dust bunny population explosion seemed fairly remote.

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