Thursday, 20 April 2017



Hello all!

Just to say Hi to all my umpteen zillions of new fans (many of you from Twitter), and new post due soon. Pic taken recently, just after I'd washed my hair (Husband's fault - he said I looked good - *snort*! Takes all sorts). Getting to grips with Blogger here, from my bed, on my trusty new tablet. I listen to Himself next door (in my bed) mumbling and grumbling cuz his tablet, same as my old one, is rubbish.

     Working on my novel which is a never ending saga - the working of it, not the story itself, although that is pretty epic - and finally getting to grips with that as well. Wouldn't have started from here, as they say. Was getting very frustrated with not 'getting it out there' because, as Husband says, I don't have a definite deadline and I tend to work on it in hotches and splotches. Not particularly disciplined. Not a great way of working. Went for coffee with Husband and we worked through the outline. He's a great critique-er - (honest without being brutal). It's my baby and I receive any criticism with a: 'WHY?? WHAT 'S WRONG WITH IT??' *:-O! Take it like a woman, woman. Writing group tomorrow so have to find something to read (don't panic!). Not a novel chapter, far too self-conscious for that at the moment although slowly - very s-l-o-w-l-y *yawn* - growing more confident about it.

       Haven't done any art lately but am due back at sculpture class next week so that's something to look forward to, particularly as I love Yvonne, our lovely tutor. She's dipsy, an ex-solicitor, or lawyer, can't remember which. But... we (Husband and I) have started hosting an art group in our house Friday afternoons once a month. Never done anything like that before! All down to my miraculous brain cure.  I disliked being in the house for any length of time, but in recent months I've found I actually don't mind being in the house in the afternoons. I used to be desperate to get out. But there is a limit. (That applies to any number of people).

       Onto my humungous weight issue (I was classed 'obese' at around 14 stone, which I didn't believe cuz I didn't, thankfully, look it). Lost two and a bit stone in the year after my cure. Although we were away for two weeks holiday, around two weeks ago, didn't put any weight on despite the gorgeous ice creams - his chocolate, mine cherry and mint, yum!!😊 - and chocolate bars (drool...). Walked a lot, which obviously helped. Love walking, and capable of walking several miles. Remember walking ten miles in Buckinghamshire, years ago, almost in one go, with a brief stop in a pub for a drink, and want to return to that. Hate running. Never could run. One's female parts bounce up and down like billy-o. Brisk walking's good, even power walking. Have started back at the gym, too, just need the discipline to actually go. I'm a very lazy person, I know that. Shame on me! My inclination is to sit or lounge in unladylike positions and do creative thingummyjigs. Could do that all day. Have to lecture myself to get off my bum and do stuff.

     Other stuff. We're slowly, again slowly, as with all these things, cleaning, redecorating etcetera the house, and doing similar to the garden (going round the garden with a vacuum cleaner and duster, hadeha). Thirty-odd years of neglect, basically cuz I was always half-hearted about it all due to depression, and I was never domesticated anyway. When I fully recovered, I looked around the house and (aghast expression on fizzog) said: 'Good God -  that's disgusting!' Don't know what 'that' was, but there was a lot of it. We hadn't had the energy before to deal with it, whatever 'it'was. But now I've got the energy and enthusiasm to actually DO something about whatever 'it'was.

     Other other. Keep telling myself I'm going to return to archery. I'm nervous about that. Naturellement. Not that I'm nervous about meeting the people cuz I never was about that, but it is stepping into the unknown. I've got my kit (bow, pretty pearlised pink arrows - lovely- and rubbish string that needs replacing). All I need now is to email (hate phones) and tell 'em I'm coming. *Gulp*.

     So there we go, over and out, except to say weve just taken delivery of a brand new cooker (Husband's treat - he's chief chef, I wash). It looks luverly, and the guys delivering were a right couple of characters! Brilliant! Hilarious and just my type!



   



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