Ania M

I admit it, I do surveys. But I’m not addicted….honest! It’s only one or two a week… well, sometimes more.

I don’t mean the sort that involve wellies, theodolites and ultra-long tape measures, or the ones that tell you the only thing holding your dream house together are the dry rot mycelia woven into the wood worm tunnels.  No, I’m talking about market research. OK, there’s no need to wince like that. It’s not a crime and, for your information, I don’t think much of that nonsense either.

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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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DS had some of his chums around after school today to play. The Gang of Four travel as a loosely formed pack, (in the way that boys do), whether it’s in the playground, scootering home from school or deciding on the lastest thing to be “into”.

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Dear Jason,

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I have been trying to ignore it for some time now, but even DH has remarked on how far away I have to hold things in order to be able to read them sometimes. So, I am forced to come to the conclusion that I probably ought to go and get my eyes tested and they will almost certainly recommend that I get some reading glasses. (more…)

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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It’s late and having spent the evening listening to an eclectic selection of music, I find myself, once again, sighing and mourning the lost art of dancing. I don’t mean shaking your booty at the disco or raving it up with the gals, but rather the simple and, sadly lost, pleasure of being asked to dance and then being competently steered around the dance floor as a couple.

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Possibly a misleading title to this post since I am not referring to the horrific and devastating earthquake in Japan. I am, somewhat frivoulously perhaps, referring to my rather busy and highly productive morning. I am sitting writing this post and it is not yet 11am, yet despite having had a lie-in*, I have already made:

(*these things are relative)

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