NOT THE MOST SUCCESSFUL WALK EVER...

I have lived in Ruralish-shire for longer than I've lived anywhere else.

Unless you count the 6 months I spent as a Redcoat at Butlin's Bognor Regis (oh the heights to which I've climbed...) I have actually only ever lived in two places.  Here in Ruralish-shire, and also the town where I was born and grew up - Romford. 
This, my friends, is variously described as being in Greater London, Essex or, more baffling (to me at least), the East End of London.  I give you this information to highlight the fact that I am basically a Townie.

You might think that 24 years spent in the countryside would bring out the Wood Sprite in me, but no.  I'm still bothered being in a field I can see no end to - and absolutely terrified of livestock.  (And I include bugs, insects and some plants in that category).

All this may go some way to explain the following...

IT AIN'T OVER TIL THE FAT LION SINGS...

I have just eaten a slice of toast and marmalade and am the right side of a Hot Chocolate with Marshmallows (pink and white) even though I was neither hungry nor thirsty
I am a comfort eater. 
This is not news to me.

I've just got back from No.2 Son's Primary School Leavers' Assembly. The event I've been dreading since No.1 Son's Leavers' Assembly three years ago.

I DON'T THINK MY SON'S TEACHER LIKES ME...

Our Secondary school uses a 'platform' website (I have no idea) to send email message alerts and to set homework etc.

This week I got one such alert informing me that No.1 Son 'may have been marked absent' and that I should check on the website for more details.



I found a few bits of homework that should have been completed several years ago, but could I find anything on the website about attendance?  I could not. 

I Will Never, Ever, Garden Again...

I have never been much of a gardener anyway...

...Unless you count that one year when I had a thriving vegetable plot.  But that was very much a 'Dig for Victory'  WWII fantasy I was living out, coinciding with the 50th Anniversary of VE Day.

No, Gardening and I have always been Uneasy Bedfellows - I don't do creepy crawlies, damp earth, dry earth, hard work, bugs ...  Also, it makes my skin itch.  Not sure if that's psychosomatic or an actual allergy to something - possibly the 'hard work'.

But, I could no longer ignore that the Shed at the End of the Garden with Clematis Attached, had become Clematis At The End of the Garden with Shed Attached.  So I gritted my teeth, donned my Gardening Gear (Oh yeah, I've got all the stuff), found the secateurs and climbed my Ikea Step Stool ready to do battle.

As I mentioned in a earlier post, I have been casting around for a new name for The Husband.  Although Best Beloved worked for a while (a very short while) it wasn't long before it started grating on me.
Don't get me wrong - he is The Best, and he is also Beloved.  It's just that the name has been used elsewhere and so . . . well, I wanted a fresh and original name for him.
(Turns out BB grated on him too.  But he never said!  Aaaah, sweeeet.)

So. . . I would like to announce that The Husband Previously Known as 'BB' or 'Best Beloved' will now be referred to as . . .

Mr W.

I know. 
Fresh and  Original.

Darn, I'm good.