Cr*pola!

I've spent much of this week in tears, just getting myself in a right old state about going away.

I feel I've backed myself into a corner and there's no escape.

If I cancel my trip I feel I'm letting people down...the Company Manager who organised it all, Mr B, my Support Worker, myself.

Everything has gone to pot. I haven't got out of the house on my own this week so my food intake has been appallingly bad or non-existent. Thank goodness for the Felix Christmas goodie box that has remained unopened as it had 2 sachets of cat food in! They've got vets' kibbles but they like a bit of wet food too. (I hasten to add that Mr B has been up in Brum working during the early part of the week and has since brought in food for me and the cats).

Went into town with my Support Worker yesterday and just fell apart. Got very upset and started my asthma off.

I'd had 2 Diazepam by 8 o'clock this morning. Went to sleep and now just feel cr*p.

If I try on anymore clothes that make me look like a fat knacker I think I'm just gonna put 'em in a pile in the garden and set fire to them! The idea in my mind of keeping cool in white linens with pink accents has gone right out of the window. Black is the way to go! Easy!

I can't even pinpoint what is wrong. I just know if I said "No, I'm not going" I would feel better in an instant.

Stupid, huh?
Z xx

An Awfully Big Adventure

I am going on tour with Mr B.

Not to Plymouth. Oh no!

Any ideas?

I'm going to Granada, Spain! Eeek!

The Company is going to perform at an Arts Festival there. The picture below is the Stage, set in the beautiful surroundings of the Generalife Gardens.

I hunted out these photos I took in 1986, (I think), which was the only foreign tour I ever did. Never thought I'd get the chance to go again.

We are staying in the same hotel too!

SO, and it is a very big SO...all I have to do is actually get there! I haven't been abroad for about 20 years! I like flying, so that isn't a problem. I know where I'm going really well, so that isn't a problem either. It's just getting out of the house to get to Birmingham!!
I have a prescription of Diazepam ready to tuck safely in my bag. I've more or less decided what I'm taking to wear.

SO, fingers crossed this time next week I will be in sunny Spain!
Woohoo!
Z xx

Bad Hare Day

Daddy

My dad, on holiday with his family. At a guess, I'd say this was about 1930.

My paternal grandfather. I don't remember him as he passed away when I was 2 years old.

But the weird thing is, that he used to smoke a particular brand of baccy, Briar Rose, I think it was called. Now, I don't know if you can still buy this, but there have been several occasions during my life that I have smelled this...in the underpass near the V & A, in St James Park, (Mr B could smell it too), various places that I have lived. But the really weird thing is, there is no-one around smoking, it just wafts around me! I find it very quite comforting.

This is my dad, his brother and their parents on holiday; probably at Littlehampton.

Bit of a dapper dresser, ever at this age. He never grew out of that, always a smart dressed man, even when he started with Alzheimer's, he would go to the barbers each week while my mum did the grocery shopping.

So, a little late, but Happy Fathers Day, dad. Miss you terribly. Big hugs.

Z xx

OOTD

Doing my best (clothed!) Flasher impersonation! Wearing my new top from Artscapes @ QVC. Oh yes, I have succumbed to the mighty TV sales phenomenon.
It is so wrong for my body shape with its' high neck, but I lurve this print so much, I don't care! It has sequins on the front and it does have bracelet-length sleeves so all is not lost!

Just waiting to have my batteries changed!
These plastic 'barb wire' bangles came from Topman in Manchester, when I was there in January. A pound for 3! Bargain!

The Cornish Beach Bag was a pressie from Mr B when he was on tour in Truro, last year, I think. It came from Seasalt.

Might get an MOT while I'm here!
Cream gilet from a shop called 'Yours'. I don't know of another of these stores anywhere else. (Maybe you know different?). Edit: There's apparently 40 stores nationwide, according to the website. It's at a shopping centre out of town and sells all sorts for larger ladies. I've had great lingerie from there, a fab pale pink fake fur gilet, ooo, quite a few bits! Prices are pretty good and it is a welcome change from Evans.

Cream handbag by Edina Ronay, £19.99 from TKMaxx, about a year ago.

White leather Converse hi-tops. Nuff said.

Pimms O'Clock

Street Party

Norman was the Football Pools collector. The night before the Jubilee, his mum locked him out in the patio and wouldn't let him in until everything was painted red, white and blue!

Peggy, as one of the original residents of the block, would probably have had a lot to do with the instigating of our street party, although it was taken for granted that there would be one.

Clive's family was one of the first to move in; he had worked on building the maisonette block. If you locked yourself out, Clive knew how to get you in, with a length of curtain wire!

It was 1968 when we moved in and he gave me a pair of chest expanders, (which I've still got!). His dad taught him how to swim by throwing him off the end of South Parade Pier!

Then there was the lady who gave my mum the "Fred the Flour Grader", the Homepride flour holder that always used to stand looking out of the kitchen window. Her son had a mobile disco.

June was from Birmingham. Her eldest daughter went to work in Hong Kong and the younger to Marks & Spencer.

I remember Lisa, John and I sitting out the back, telling each other ghost stories. One summer I borrowed a sack truck from Frederick Wayne's wholesale warehouse. Lisa and I carried cases from the coach drop-off point to the ferry for holiday-makers going to the Isle of Wight.
There was a story that Lisa's mum had got drunk at Roses' party and had done a striptease to 'Hey, Big Spender'!

I sat out the front with Malcy one evening, while my mum had the neighbourhood women in for a lingerie party. Like Tupperware, but with bras!

Catalogue Shopping, along with Spot the Ball, the Avon Lady and Green Shield Stamps were very much part of growing up.
Johns' younger brother, Derek, used to always be sitting on the walkway outside their door; a mat with a winding road on it, laid out with all of his toy cars. Derek grew up to be a bus driver. One Goodwood Season evening, Derek drove the doubledecker bus that Mrs Band I took to the races.

There was John, one of the fishermen of England. An older John, who worked on the railway. Ron, who was always working on old cars. Dave, the gas man, whose son I worked with, another summer, at the Kiddies Corner cafe.
There is a photograph of Dean and I sitting on the wall of the red, white and blue garden. We didn't go to the party but I'm sure my sister and her friends enjoyed it.

Fast forward to Tuesday...

As Mrs B and I watched the live video coverage of the pageantry in London, our neighbours celebrated by cutting up metal with a grinder!
By the time The Queen was heading back to the Palace in the State Landau, I had already had to shut all the windows, as a heady smell of burning metal was beginning to fill the flat. Had they been sanding their floors, like Aidan in that episode of 'Sex and the City', I would have applauded their domesticity. But heavy industry in a residential area I feel is a little excessive!
As the flags waved, our walls shook with the vibration.It was not the noise I objected to, it was the toxic cloud that was building up outside!

As you pass through Horse Guards Parade and come out onto The Mall, on the right there is the Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA). I went there in about 1986 to see three films. One was titled 'The Decline of the Western Civilisation'. Another was a documentary on a German band called Einsturzende Neubauten (Collapsing Buildings). They played industrial music using power tools and hammers. I recently read in 'Shortlist' that they had played at The Hacienda and had to be stopped from drilling into the concrete pillars as, unbeknown to the band, there were electrical cables inside!

Harking back to 1952, there were fashions and dancing from the period among the festivities. Back then, if you were causing a disturbance, a Bobby would knock on your door quicker than you could say 'Heartbeat'. These days, with an overstretched Police Force, it's an 'environmental issue'.

Growing up through 1977, the decline of the western civilisation has not come the Sex Pistols performing God Save The Queen on a riverboat as it passed by The Houses of Parliament, but it might move into that property next door while you are watching Gardeners World.

Guest Post from Mr B.

Jubilee!

Design Technology

Mr B Guest Post

Powerpoint's teacher wants him to take English Literature as an A level, but, he's not interested. He said 'It's not in my career path'.
He detested having to read 'Touching The Void'.
"I read the review that he had written on it, it was like something out of The Sunday Times literary column", said his dad.
"This is really good".
"Oh, I just wrote any old tosh, I wrote what they wanted to see", said Powerpoint.
Talking about school, he couldn't believe that dear old dad had taken woodwork and metalwork as two separate subjects.
"Nowadays it's just called DT", (Design Technology), said Powerpoint.

Speaking of which, Patch showed me his new car. I was intrigued about the dashboard display for reading texts since he told me about it in Truro.
The screen has SatNav and a display that gauges how many miles you are able to go before you run out of petrol.As I sat in the passenger seat, I was almost directly in eye-line with the display. "Does it come with a cushion?", I joked.
"The seat height adjusts automatically" said Patch.

Happy Jubilee