My Aunt’s cat doesn’t take well to strangers ~ even though (s)he somewhat invaded their lives, and despite “officially” living round the corner, spends most of his/her time at my Aunt’s.
I was sat in my Aunt’s usual spot when P-Cat decided they’d clamber on me and inspect my face and own me.
My Aunt suggested that she’d come down to London for brunch and we’d go to Dishoom in King’s Cross. She’d been before and loved it. I’d looked at the menu and thought a bit err, but hey I’d go with it, it’d be nice to see them.
As soon as I walked through the door, I was like “wow … this place is incredible” – it has an old colonial, warehouse, railway station vibe about it. The food is great, although the menu itself undersells the complexity of the food. Definitely going to have a return trip.
Since having my hysterectomy two weeks ago today I’ve been on a do-nothing, rest only and recouperate regime ~ it’s included countless episodes of Frasier Continue reading Recuperating in the Country
Apparently my niece has been wanting to see Wicked since she was about 8yrs old, plaguing her mother with singing to the soundtrack endlessly. So it seemed like a perfect time to tell her that it was completely sold out and couldn’t get tickets for her birthday treat visit to London – because that is perfect parenting / aunting behaviour … But even nicer making her, I mean watching her cry with joy when we told her that we had actually managed to get prime seats.
I have somewhat forced my sister into making me a scarf, *apparently* not an easy one, she keeps moaning about how hard it is… I think she’s secretly loving it, (might not be). 
I *might* have politely asked her, on Facebook, to make me one (then others did too… *cough*) ~ it may look rude to the uninitiated, or demanding, but, erm a loving request, I say …
Continue reading The Funniest Text I Ever Wrote (In. My. Head)
So “in theory” the kids got a gingerbread house each. I’m sure you can tell that this house had not been assembled by a 10yr old, no no siree it wasn’t. *Someone* namely my brother, took control of building the house, while the 10yr old sat patiently waiting to be allowed to biscuits and sweets “neatly” … “Neeeeatly!” on the house.
After finally getting my bag off the carousel, I start to well-up as I come through the exit gate and search the masses for my brother and Melissa. After hugs and tears all round my brother announces that instead of staying in Boston for a couple of nights, we’re going to New York baby!! And we’re staying close to Times Square!! Tears turn to screams all round. Off. We. Go!
I live a charmed life. I know this. I wasn’t born to it, or given it, I have worked hard, don’t get me wrong, but I’m lucky, I know this to be true.
I’m sat on a plane heading back from Barcelona – I’m home for a week before jetting off to Argentina and Brazil for nearly two weeks. Apart from getting everything sorted for the trip, in the time I’m home I’ll go ballroom dancing (the revelation of 2015), twice; go to a comedy club with friends; go out for dinner; go to my Aunt’s 70th birthday black tie do and have a briefing with my new CEO.
It’s busy, but I like it that way.
But as I’m sat on the plane writing postcards, yes those retro things, I come to a block, a halt when writing my sister’s. I want to write “I wish you were here with me” and “God you have to come” but I can’t, because she can’t.
She has MS.
MS is a cruel beast and it is this cruel beast that … and I can’t allow myself to think of what her future is, I can’t write it without crying.
I want her to get better so we can see the world together, but I know she won’t. It breaks my heart.
Sometimes you have to reflect on the life you have, right here and now. I’m not in a relationship, nor do I have children, but these are small things in comparison. Yeah I have epilepsy, but even in that regard I’m lucky ~ I haven’t had a seizure longer than some adults have been alive.
Live life now, because you never know when it’ll change and it could change in an instance.
I love you sis x
It’s my birthday do and we’re at a newly opened bar / live music place in Farringdon called Piano Works. The premise is that there are two pianists; you choose the set list by writing the song you want to play and then the night goes from there.
So many friends and family turned up and even though the venue was quite quiet I had a great night ~ dancing, singing and laughing with friends ~ you just can’t go wrong.
I have amazing friends.
Can’t wait to go back.
Here’s a book I never thought I’d buy. But I’ve been given the great honour of standing beside my brother next year as his Best (Wo)Man.
I’m not going to lie, I’m utterly shitting myself, but it’s amazing honour… I’m going to cry like a baby, but it’s a honour … there’s a distinct possibility that I’ll throw up, but it’s a great honour.
I thought, as Best Man, all I had to do was rings, speech, dance with the maid of honour ~ *BOOM*, done! … apparently not ~ there’s loads loads more, loads more. Collect this, return that, sort the stag do, buttonholes, wash car, look after presents, decorate leaving car, Do Not Lose Rings!! And that’s just the beginning.
As soon as he asked me I started writing the speech. Not because I wanted to, but because no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t stop it rolling around in my head. Only c.18m to worry about the speech and everything.
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