Where is your PE kit???

So I haven't blogged for a long time, normally I say I have been busy which generally I have but busy doesn't really reflect the big change in my life.

The last six months I had a fabulous birthday party with fire dancers, hog roast and butterfly cup cakes. I was also lucky enough to have the very fine Bass and Lobster cater for my party. If you are in Jersey or visit Jersey you really must go and dine there. http://www.bassandlobster.com/ 

I have been back and forth to England working which is always great for a catch up. I recently returned to teach ALS which coincided with the hospital ball. My Saturday morning hangover reflected that I had a tremendous time. My tequila slamming days are now behind me. Although I do like to indulge in something sparkly as my recent trip to Guernsey demonstrated.

The reason for this is I am now what I call a "Step mother".. ( I sounded like Miranda Hart's mother then!). We all live together full time now, the beau and the girls. Its been daunting and I often panic what if i am not being a good step mother? I mean, I don't even like the word step mother. No one says it out loud but I suppose that's what I am now. I consider myself very responsible at work but at home not so. My change in circumstances has made me think responsibly. Mornings are now about "Where is your PE kit? Don't forget your packed lunch.. What do you mean you have swimming but your costume is soaking in a bag in your bedroom?" 

We all get on without difficulty. They don't see me as the evil queen step mother to Snow White. Do I know what I am doing sometimes I am not so sure. I think when you aren't the biological parent you feel you have to be perfect. My parenting skills are taken from Super Nanny, so far so good. I have adopted a style where everything is discussed where I encourage the girls to make informed choices taking in to consideration consequence. Perhaps a bit hippiesque and I am learning very quickly that at 10 to 8 on a Monday morning the "Where is your PE kit? " scenario doesn't fit the discussion style. 

Its been a long time since I did pythagoras theorem and French verbs, thank the lord Google is my friend when it comes to homework. However homework has changed so much since I was a child. Tonight's homework knit a stem for a butterfly. What? You have to be kidding.. bring back pythagoras theorem I have learnt them on Wikipedia!! Calmly the beau sits and knits a few rows. I sit astonished. Apparently when I questioned him where did he learn that . He responded with you have to have lots of skills when you are in the jungle you know!

I have surprised myself at my ability to adapt and I understand the reward of children. Maybe I am cut out for it. When I have a wobble I speak to my friends looking for reassurance. Most of them have children so give me tips on how to multitask. All of those tips are helpful but I often bug my two friends who are children of parents with step parents. They turned out OK. Then one said to me "Step parents can be better than parents because they love you even when they don't have to" and I do love them. 

Well I have to go readers and sort out the new hamster that I thought would be a good idea. The beau said "No not having one we will end up looking after it. They have had pets before and we ended up cleaning them." My response was it will teach them about sharing and responsibility.There is those hippiesque skills again. How is it going so far? They can't agree on a name and already I can see because they can't get the lid off the cage to clean it, it will fall to us. Well I say us I interpreted the beau's evil laugh to mean ME it will be ME that has to sort it.  

Oh well I am learning. The hamster idea might not be one of the best. I have realised children can be fickle they eat apples on a Monday but on a Wednesday  they now don't like them! (throws away loads of flamin apples).

I do hope to blog soon. I am off to see my pal in two weeks for a girlie weekend  so hopefully will have fun and frolics to say. I just hope the hamster will still be alive when I get back. I have never done breaking bad news of a rodent before.   

Two years on!

Well here I am in Jersey now nearly 2 years on. I did think of writing lots of different things but at best I was a bit weepy and at worse I just went vacant, thinking back over the two years. So many things have happened so many things have changed. Sometimes I still miss home but those thoughts are far between. As I am writing this the beau and his two girls are sitting in the lounge giggling about something. The house is full of chatter, its a lovely sound. Not sure how I got here but I did and for that I am glad. The house is so much different now. Today I have been sorting out my garden bits and pieces with a pal. Here are the photos.

Well its nearly July which is my favourite month because its my birthday and I will be looking forward to my party. Its also the month my pal has her first baby. Its a boy and that will be something exciting for them. I haven't really much else to say except for those who are fathers tomorrow, Happy Fathers day. 

Busy, Busy Bee

Its been nearly two months since I last blogged, all I can say is I have been exceptionally busy with work. I kept meaning to sit down and write but each time I thought about it, I never got there. Its not like I have been doing anything exciting well I did do something. I flew home.

The reason I flew home was to catch up with friends and have a night out in Manchester. I took me plus one; not the beau but my fellow Jersey RO. The beau was supposed to be going but he couldn't, so to get him out of a " what do you mean you can't go its been booked for months discussion", he said take "me plus one". So I did and what a delight she had.
Do you ever think you aren't your age readers but then realise when you wake up you are indeed (for some of us) in our 40's. This weekend was like that. I blame the tequila, no I blame the cocktails, no wait it was the sailor Jerry rum shots those silly boys bought us. A heady mix of alcohol brings on ridiculous chat and allure. I can't think of any other reason why I would be jumping up and down in a club dancing to Chumbawamba  like I was still a student. Rolling home at 5am didn't deter a full on shopping trip the next day.

OK I need to confess the true reason for going back to Manchester. I went to MEN to watch Barry Manilow. Don't stone me! My pal put a message on her Facebook; "Anyone want to come and see Barry with me?" After about 20 posts of sod off from people I  wrote, " Me, Me, Me". I think secretly I fancy myself as Lola the show girl. I saw him a few years ago and he was quite fab, camp but fab.


Its you! Its Lola



 I mean look at him? His tasteful crimson velour jacket, his cheesy smile and his trademark conk. Despite being a tad older he can still knock out a tune. However it was a bit weird this time. I swear I thought he was going to put a hip out. The problem with oldies still doing concerts they feel the need to modernise their act. This only works for Madonna. It was slightly uncomfortable watching Barry repeatedly thrust his pelvis and make grunting noises whilst shouting " I still got it, I am a sex god". The roars from women and the whoop whoops could just as easily been caused by the fact they were tripping on lactulose, HRT and Nitrazepam. 

His warm up act was a comedian that told bad jokes and look liked he had been dug up. The highlight was watching my pal getting excited as she shouted Barry. Sadly I don't think I will be going to see him again. I might just wait for Englebert Humperdinck to tour!

Which brings me to another joy in my life, Eurovision song Contest. I know its politically rigged, I know the songs are crap and I know generally its not about music but I love it. Even my pal Babs in Oz remembered how much I love it as her Facebook post said

Watching the road to Eurovision....and thinking of you !!
Missing a Eurovision party.

I did indeed used to have Eurovision Song contest parties complete with pad and paper. It wasn't something serious it was just fun. Its not the same since Terry left. As the clip below illustrates his wit as he precedes to get drunk on Baileys throughout the process.

    Ahh well as much as I loved the Russian grannies, like Barry; the Eurovision isn't the same. We were never going to do well with a chap who thought changing his name from Arnold Dorsey to Humperdinck was a good idea! 

I tell you something else..it was a 47 quid cock!

Well what a weekend! Just returned from Northampton after seeing my pal. My liver requires a 2 week package holiday in a Methodist church.

Everything started so well with a lovely Spa day. A complete detox having a facial, manicure and a lovely back massage. Then it all went horribly wrong. Thank goodness I drank so much herbal tea all day on Friday. It kept my kidneys flushed ensuring I didn't have a hangover Saturday morning. My pal was a bit worse for wear but we blame the garlic mayonnaise on the takeaway chips.
I met her sister and her best pal and what fab girls they are. They certainly know how to share a cocktail too. My pal's sister was also worse for wear; maybe she had garlic mayonnaise too. Her pal is a nurse on the Emergency assessment unit and felt fine. Maybe working for the NHS results in turning our livers into reinforced impenetrable steel.

Fish bowl anyone?

They took me to a cocktail bar called Hakamou. This is where the livers had to adapt the SAS motto "Who dares, wins". We thought we would start with a light cocktail. As you can see it may look like a month's catheter bag contents, but boy was it lovely. Try to ignore  me peeking over it! I still had night vision then.  I thought I would text my beau whilst he was in New York about my lovely cocktail.

"Already drunk with some big cock that cost 47 quid."

A conch even piggy would be proud of.

Quickly I had to text back. "COCKTAIL...COCKTAIL"
Ruddy Iphone spell checker!!  The reason we were there was my pal promised me a cocktail  out of a conch shell. They don't do them anymore apparently; people kept nicking them. I was chatting to someone who turned out to be the owner. He kindly retrieved  the last conch shell out from his office. Of course I only wanted a diet coke from it. It was about the novelty of drinking from it. However it arrived with some other deadly potion in it. The barman asked for 20 quid, much to the owners horror. So after my pal's sister had a chat with him he decided to put me to work behind the bar to make our cocktail. The girls only prerequisite was it had to have maraschino cherries in it and it had to be on fire. So the barman assisted me with my muddling and my shaking. I have to say I got a bit hot and bothered as a rear sneak up behind and a vigorous wrist action from one of the bar men sent me into a giddy kipper episode.  

Wonders if Demi Moore felt like this in Ghost?

We left happy bunnies and it was decided we should take it easy and maybe a nice cup of tea should be the order of the evening. I was thinking maybe a nice peppermint, but quickly it became a nice long island iced tea.



Tea for four. How civilised.

Saturday was spent shopping, getting all the things I can't get in Jersey at a good price. No my case wasn't full of Warburtons bread! Then evening came.  The Russian roulette game of poke the liver started again. It was just as much fun as the previous night. Of course we took it much easier and only did a couple of shots and got to bed at 3am after twirling round the dance floor of a gay club. We decided not to have garlic mayonnaise on our chips, we didn't want to risk another hangover. Sunday was chilling out after more shopping.

So I am safe and sound back in Jersey and have had 3 peppermint teas. I met my beau at the airport as he returned from New York. I am sure he was a tad more sensible than me. Well I say that he decided to go debt collecting with his pal riding shotgun. I will take the conch over that any day.

On returning home an angel had visited my house. My cleaner started this weekend whilst I was away. The best bit not only had she spring cleaned my kitchen cupboards, she had also done my washing and folded it away. I think I love her.

Well normality returns tomorrow, well just for now. There is always Easter weekend to get through. I will make sure when I go to church on Sunday (yes readers I go to church, don't be so shocked) its a Methodist church as I know they give you Ribena for communion. If I go to my C of E one and taste that red wine it might send me off on a spiral again. I could always say there was garlic mayonnaise on the communion wafer.

I would like to thank my pal for a superb weekend, her sister for taking these pictures and also her best pal another staunch NHS nursie.

N.B The beau read the text again and said what I actually typed, so I corrected it to what it reads now. Gawd it sounds worse than what I remember it as.

I want to play sexy tunes!

Last night I went to watch my beau's eldest play in what I thought was the school band. When I got there and watched it; it was nothing like my school band experiences. To be fair it wasn't a school band but the Jersey Instrumental Service consisting of youth bands and choirs. None the less it was still children playing musical instruments and singing. I was expecting "snug as a bug in a rug" rather than Miami Sound Machine. I struggled not to dance in my seat to Dr Beat.

I wasn't really talented musically as a child, but like most children started out on recorder then had to go to violin lessons. My parents weren't keen on me practising as it sounded like I was murdering a cat. After several months of murdering the cat I decided to leave my violin under my bed and explore the world of biology books. I was good at that. I was allowed the top shelf references books that generally had all the human biology stuff in it. The librarian used to let me come in and read them possibly because I had an eye patch on for my lazy eye and she felt sorry for me.
Now don't go aww readers that biology book stopped me getting a kicking at school. I was a bit of a geek and not in the cool crowd but I was funny. Generally I could get out of bother with telling a joke. Once when I saw what we referred to as the "cock of school" approaching me to give me a bashing for sporting a flared A-line duffel coat, I thought argghh I am going to get battered. Quick thinking I started tap dancing in my lovely spesh coat. That flummoxed her and she went away. However I couldn't tap my way through 5 years of school so biology was my saviour.
In my experience generally the "cocks" are into boys and also their fellow flirting pals like girls. Once it became apparent I knew my way round both the male and female reproductive tract the questions came. "Oi meatball can you get pregnant standing up?" If I just lick it can it make me pregnant? " One second ..flick through pages...yes sperm can remain in the vagina to fertilise the egg even when standing up...From that day I never got a hiding and go see meatball in the cowshed generally was the order of the day to avoid STD's and pregnancies.

So back to music. I got thrown out of violin for being so bad. My sister on the other hand was a trombone triumph. My beau plays the grand piano that sits in his lounge and both his daughters are gifted. I could return to the recorder but that might just look weird. Music when I was at school was awful so was the school band. Eddie Izzard explains it better than me so I will let him.

   

Lets try a spot of culture

Its been a whole month since I last blogged! Things have settled slightly and now I feel like blogging. Thank you for those that sent best wishes for the recent sadness.

A couple of months ago I sat in my pal's office as we planned what cultural experiences we were going to enjoy whilst perusing both the Opera house and Jersey Arts Centre brochures. Eventually we agreed what to watch but we appear not to of managed to get together to watch the things we booked. The first one I couldn't attend because it was the funeral, the second he dumped me for Liverpool playing.

So I took another pal to go and watch Count Arthur Strong. I can only describe this as a bit odd.



As  we watched it laughing but not understanding why we were laughing; it came to me. The reason I liked it was because it took me back to my Reeves and Mortimer days. There was nothing more funnier than big night out or what was to become a staunched part of my social life, the brilliant shooting stars. I had to include my all time favourite clip of shooting stars for those of you that don't remember it. Possibly not the best clip but my sides hurt watching it.

It never really made sense a bit like Count Arthur Strong but it was hilarious. So much so I bought the Shooting Stars game. When I used to share a house with lots of fab people we used to play it or come back from the pub with a few people and play it. My strongest memory was watching one of the ED SHO's doing his forfeit for winning, yep you forfeited if you won. It was the best bit. So  we all clambered up to the window to watch him  as he stood outside the neighbours window with a mop sellotaped to his back shouting I am the broom from the moon. He is a consultant now and a jolly good one, so I think that demonstrates anyone can succeed. Its took me a bit longer to write this blog as I keep watching shooting stars clips on you tube!

The next instalment was going to watch the Circus of Horrors this week. I have seen it prior to Britain's got Talent and god I loved it then and love it now. I did manage to go with my culture pal this time. If you have never seen it you must go. I need to add if you are not a fan of Dwarfs with hoovers on the end of their willies you might not be so keen. Its a well put together show with a touch of cheese in the singing. There is something for everyone excluding those that  don't like dwarfs and hoovers! The bit that got me a bit hot and bothered under the collar was something I actually gasped out loud at. Was it the fire eater, sword swallower, trapeze girlie hanging by her hair or the contortionist? No! They were all great but as superficial as this is, it was a very hot boy with lickable abs dripping in water doing some trapeze thingy.  I was a bit mortified as I gasped clearly representing a loin stir rather than golly isn't he talented. For my girlies and my gay friends if you cant stomach the dwarf (although I think he is hilarious) close your eyes but definitely goo and see what I fondly call "bath boy". You will need a cold shower later!!
       

Sadness

Sorry I haven't blogged for a while readers I have been quite poorly. The last two weeks have been about coughing, spluttering, wheezing, snot and my ticker deciding it was missing doing a samba at 240 bpm. I thought ECGs were a distant memory; alas they are not!

I was going to be returning home this weekend, to give my beau a tour of the lovely north incorporating family and friends visits. Unfortunately he has received some tragic news. His step daughter died unexpectedly last week and it's been a roller coaster really. My heart broke a bit as I watched him hurting. He is the most tough, organised and  methodical man I know but as much as he holds it together for his family I can't help see the sadness in his eyes. You will of read previously in my blogs I have took to being a regular Mary Poppins with his two beautiful girls. Well Mary Poppins doesn't really help when I watch him sit down with his girls; tell them he loves them and try to explain everything that is going on. My experience of this is from a relatives room in an emergency department. I hadn't anticipated being so close to a situation like this, but close I am.

He likes to be in charge and finds it hard to let me support him but as I explain that's what a partnership is; I see him struggle. Sometimes in life we need someone just to be there in case we fall, we may never fall but knowing someone is waiting in the wings, well it's a good thing.


I won't be blogging over the next two weeks as I need to have some rest. The funeral is next Thursday. I will be attending. I have no doubt he won't need me as he will be strong but I will be there with his family in my thoughts.

Initially I had only put the song on in memory of Becca but once my beau had read this blog he said about putting the video of Becca on, so here it is.

 

Speak soon readers and hug the ones you love.

Beauty and the quizzers

Hello readers, this post is in two halves really, but come together in the middle, in essence its a renebell night out.

I have become a regular quizzer! Wednesday nights are all about the team. When I was back in England I was never one for organised activity especially quizzes. When I think of quizzers I always think of Steve Coogan. For those not old enough to remember Coogan's Run I have enclosed a clip. 

  

There has been a pause in my writing as I got distracted and had to watch the whole episode, then I had to compose myself as my ribs hurt from laughing too much!

Quiz type people I always thought were a bit like Guy and Stuart Crump, but here I am in a team called "Hunt the Brain Cell". Occasionally when the boys are feeling rebellious they call us "Inter rimming". I am glad we don't win when we are called that as I think for shame I wouldn't collect my prize of a free round of drinks when "Inter rimming" is shouted! Fortunately we were "Hunt the brain cell" when we won on Wednesday. I love the pub too, traditional ale pub with all walks of life supping. There are so many fancy wine bars in Jersey but you can't beat the Lamplighter for a cosy pub quiz night. Fortunately we have experts in geography, film, music, sport and even a chemist nut. I am the only clinician on the team and know nothing about the before mentioned categories so I always pray that the science and nature round will have a few  "What are the bones in the arm called?"  Sadly there weren't any body questions this week but I pulled it out the bag when "How many sets of teeth do mammals have?" 2 if you are interested! 

I met my colleague's pals later that evening and I promised I would blog about it. To say my RO  is stunning is an understatement fortunately I am too (coughs) so we are a stunning duo. Her pals are equally beautiful. All fancy they were and at an average standing of  5ft 10 between them , I was a Pygmy. Thing was I was in quiz clothes I don't mean a blonde bob and a green parker but had my shoes been any flatter they would of been flip flops. My beau was also in the bar on a business dinner and he isn't a midget and I had taken my quiz pal who must be at least 6ft 4. However what I lack in height I make up in witty repartee and it was indeed a funny evening with far too much alcohol involved. I have no doubt one of my RO's pals who was every inch the yummy mummy was glad she wasn't drinking, as she watched the chat entwine. 

One of the girls apparently is very much like the headline shown in this paper. She is so like this headline that this particular photograph was taken that night as she had this article with her. Its not referring to eating, drugs sex or rock and roll but more like the ability to be like Denise Welch. Not as a loose woman or adulterer but as the big brother flasher. I have to say, I am glad I didn't get that pleasure. They were all very lovely, the yummy mummy, Denise and the stunning Keira Nightly lookalike.

That is one thing I do love about living here the constant meeting of new people. My little friendship ring is expanding all the time, with all different variables. So weekend is here, which is much more low key, maybe a trip to my allotment for Sunday dinner's veg.       

The prize goes to.......

Well not sure how to start this post, hmmnn its a thinker!

Anyway the reason I am writing this post is because I have won something. I am actually crap at winning anything, it  was once said that I couldn't win myself in a raffle. I don't think you can include winning the church tombola's prize of a tin of corned beef. Winning is supposed to promote a heady sense of exhilaration, one where you want to do a lap round the lounge with your jumper pushed up over your face. Of course I am thrilled someone nominated me for this, and after much researching  around; I was even more thrilled when I realised I had won it.. However I am also a little embarrassed.

Here it comes I have won The Versatile Blogger Award. This is an award given to a blogger from other bloggers who appreciate their written work. When I started writing this blog it was really the wittering of a home sick northerner. A blog of self indulgence. Everything around me just seemed so bloody hard. As much as I really couldn't bear Margaret Thatcher Milk Snatcher I think her statement You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it resonates with me. That semblance is the battle of calamity. I really don't know if this is how life is or maybe its me?

I really should have calves like Kelly Holmes; after all I could be an Olympic entrant for hamster wheel peddling. Generally we go through life, sometimes with it mapped out and occasionally receiving dodge balls. I have a lot of bruises from ruddy dodge balls. Despite this I like to think of myself as strong, not in an arm wrestling way but of heart. Remember my blog profile readers? I laugh in the face of adversity. I have had a lot of bloody adversity and recently I looked in the mirror to see how many wrinkles I had from it. I thought if I have a lot I can call them laughter lines. However that wouldn't stand as someone recently told me that if someone tried to pretend their wrinkles were laughter lines, her father would remark "nothing is that F****ing funny" . I starred long and hard I have one, so life isn't too bad.

Writing this blog, expressing myself this way really was a fantastic method of just feeling better about missing home and starting a new life here in Jersey. I have had to put my pumps on over the last two weeks as I have had to peddle the ruddy hamster wheel. I say pumps because I am not posh enough to own Dunlop green flash (1970's childhood reference).

Here's the bit I am embarrassed about. I am not part of a blogging community and never read other people's blogs, excluding Bernadette's who was the person who kindly nominated me. http://bernadette-davies.blogspot.com/  So my embarrassment creeps up even further;  part of getting this award includes doing the following.

• Nominate 15 fellow bloggers for The Versatile Blogger Award
• Add an image of the Versatile Blogger Award
• In the same post, thank the blogger who nominated you in a post with a link back to their blog.
• In the same post, share 7 completely random pieces of information about yourself
• Inform each nominated blogger of their nomination by posting a comment on each of their blogs.

I can achieve most of these points. So Thank you B for nominating me. I can also do random 7 pieces of nonsense about me, image of the VBA, yes managed that. Golly, errr 15 fellow bloggers, hmmn err have to get back to you on that one. Goes bright red. Maybe this award will spur me on to read other peoples blogs. A person who obviously found my blog through the nominations link, was kind enough to leave a comment on one of my posts. A feel a bit guilty that I don't follow blogs, maybe I should.'

Anyway there you have it, my award. I will nominate 15 blogs when I take the time to read some recommendations, probably starting with R..J. Ropsen as they left me a comment on a post.

So to achieve some of the award winning requirements.
7 random things

1. I liked to lick the corks from the solution bottles in chemistry. 
2. I wore a knitted swimsuit, a turban and an eye patch whilst learning to swim age 10.
3. My heart stopped momentarily, only to be saved by a candidate on an ALS course punching me in the chest (He must of read his manual!).
4. Had I been a boy, my name would of been Farquhar.
5. I was unable to say the word ambulance until the age of 12,.until then it was ambillyillyance.
6. I only have my width certificate in swimming because my knitted swimsuit held so much water, I sunk.
7. I had a childhood phobia about Santa.

So there you go more nonsense from my wittering!

The Good Life

When I was a little girl I had a cress head. I loved that cress head, growing his hair, giving him a trim, but the thing I liked about him the most was that it was something I had grown all on my own. I didn't really appreciate I was supposed to eat him. It just felt barbaric. The shame was, had I appreciated that fact; he wouldn't of rotted away to nothing resulting  in a pair of tights stuffed with a wonky smiley face sitting in his place.

The bug of eating what you grow has never really left me and I have continued to do so. Peppers on the kitchen window sill, tomatoes in my hanging baskets and of course every growers beginning, herbs. If I had the time I would like to be self sufficient, as a vegetarian its possible. However I appear to keep dating meat eaters and I don't mean just chicken. Full blooded meat chomping men! So I have to have some meat in my repertoire. That's where my self sufficiency stops. Yes I agree meat is for eating I just couldn't kill anything. I even have issues with removing spiders as I won't bring them to their end.

I would love to be the new Barbara Good but for that I would have to be driven bonkers by a Tom. So where is this going readers? I have joined a allotment syndicate and today was my first day. It was freezing and windy and I was dirty. Not to mention the stress of trying to find a pair of pantaloons that don't look like they have been sprayed on, (caving flashback). However it was such fun. Planting rows of Jersey Royals, pulling up veg, sorting trenches. It would appear I am quite rubbish at trenches, my pal can't do potato pyramids but fortunately our other pal can do a mighty spud pyramid. There is absolutely nothing missing from this allotment it's a menagerie of vegetative matter. It's so famous it had its own spot on country file. I have popped in a clip from my allotment. Its 14 minutes long so if you scoot to 6 minutes you will see it. Already I am bursting with pride!

I wish I had been around then as one has to say Matt Baker is a touch lovely. I retract that I was there today in a Helly Hansen jacket, my pantaloons and boots which isn't really fitting for a flirting outfit.

So a couple of hours later we were sitting eating the banana cake I had baked, supping tea and looking at the fruits of our labour. I haven't met all the people in the gang yet, but looking out over the allotment you can tell they are troopers.

Well I am off readers. I have a leek, some purple sprouting broccoli and a beetroot to prepare for dinner. As  Barbara once said  "I haven't caught you indulging in some private fetish have I"? Yes its possible growing vegetables may actually be my new fetish.  Move over Columbo you may be out of luck!

Ring out the old, ring in the new!

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Lord Alfred Tennyson said the lovely words above and although the 1st signifies the start of the year; I always feel my first working day signifies it for me. Up till then its still Christmas! So the year started today. What a year its been! Some what exhausting, at times exciting and at most ever changing.

Christmas was quiet, Boxing day, busy and New Years Eve, drunken merriment. The pinata went down well, and I found I didn't need to de-stress as the beau's children were delightful. I am becoming a regular Nanny McPhee but less warty.

I missed my family and friends back home but new friends made New Year amusing. Even in Jersey I am surrounded by Northerners and no more Northern than the host of the party I attended on New Years Eve. She is fab. Her husband is just as fab. Awash with champagne and bubble induced giggling the entertainment of the evening was just magic, literally. I would go into detail but the following clip will do it more justice than myself.

  
Try to ignore me shouting "its a shame you aren't a Mormon, as I would marry you right now", I was under the influence of champagne and show biz. I have always been a fan of magic. My ex was brilliant at it although when in the early stages of dating he demonstrated what he called " a levitation trick passed down to him by the voodoo brothers" . It essentially meant he appeared to be floating when he was actually balanced on one foot. He then claimed it had took it out of him and buggered off home.! It took me 6 years to work out the trick and 2 years to get him to stay a whole night.

Anyhoo I digress. We staggered home and didn't have too much of a hangover. It has been a great Christmas but I did have a wobbly lip when a friend I now hold dear left the island. He was part of the 3 amigo midweek drinkers. Only 2 of us remain and one of them will be bogging off back to the UK in spring possibly. My wobbly bottom lip will return once more when he does go.
The pal that left is very much like myself. I could spend endless time talking about growing veg, keeping chickens and he even understood my need at times to run away and start a travelling flea circus. His last night spent on the island was shared with my beau and me. I am glad I got to see him because he is an all round hoot. Although both the beau and my pal actually ranked dumb and dumber as their top 3 comedy films. So if he is reading here is a little homage to the most annoying film I have ever had the unfortunate pleasure of watching.  

  

If you made New years resolution's readers at least try and keep them up till spring. Me well I never make them, I don't last past February. I will however promise to blog more.