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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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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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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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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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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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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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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As usual the last few months have been busy with events and school holidays and I haven’t had much time to blog. So, here  is tour around my summer in yays and boos: (more…)

I have had *the* best day. I went up to the big smoke (London) on the train. We will gloss over the trauma of visiting my Mum (90 this year) in the morning and her not knowing who I am, then getting upset at forgetting her daughter and doing the weeping and breast-beating thing. This is nothing new and I am not distressed by it any longer. She usually remembers my children and when I have them with me, she knows who I am so it is usually OK. Sometimes she even remembers me when I am on my own, but sometimes she doesn’t.

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More like an Exocet! Time has flown by at supersonic speed the last couple of months, largely because I have been so incredibly busy I suspect. So what have I been up to that has kept me so busy? Mainly finishing outfits for a faerie wedding – bride, groom and best man.

You can see more pics of the day via the link from my homepage http://aniam.co.uk

There always seems to be far more finishing that I expect – the frogging on the groom’s coat was all hand made and hand stitched on and as for hand finishing the hems on the full-skirted frock coats, well, I won’t even go there. It was all worth the effort though 🙂

In addition to all that, I have also been blogging for Violet Green, doing their April Sock Club, though I must admit that time rather got away from me and the final sock pics didn’t quite get there in April 🙁

Time is pressing once more and I have plenty more to do, but I will post again soon 🙂