I love Easter eggs me! Do they come in muller light flavours?

So Easter is round the corner. One of my favourite times of year not just because I am a fan of baby Jesus but because I love Easter Eggs. Every year I like to treat myself to an Egg with my name on it. Ridiculous I know . As a child I didn't know eggs had things inside them because my mother concerned with how much chocolate we got as children used to remove the innards. Imagine my surprise as I was older opening one to find it had stuff in them. So I think from then on I became obsessed with having one of my very own with my name on it. You would think I would grow out of it but unfortunately I haven't. I say unfortunately because I am now on Slimming World. Its a shame there is no class here as I liked going to class. Not the little Britain one with the odd women but slimming world class. There is so much you can do with a scan bran you know!!

I have a wedding to attend in Vegas in June so I have to get skinnier for that well slightly smaller would be a start. I have put the beau on it too. After our debauched night on Friday where he fell in a bin and it took me 30 minutes to get him out I thought you too can benefit from slimming world buster! All I could see were legs sticking out and him shouting "I'm big aren't I ".

As he is a staunch meat eater, he is embracing quorn not because he likes it but because he does adopt a "anything for you darling" methodology.

He is such a meat eater that someone remarked "you look like a meat eater." What on earth does that mean? I never envisaged him to look like Lady Gaga but I do get their point. I think some blokes just look like they eat Desperate Dan cow pies. He is one of them.

Valentine's night was spent doing homework and washing dirty P.E kits. Not the most romantic evening but I suppose normality. The beau sent me a beautiful bouquet of flowers to work. I think he had concentrated on getting me some really lovely ones as he knew two days later he would be shouting "I'm big aren't I ?" from a bin.  I shouldn't grumble as Saturday night was spent at two balls. The Heart Association ball then the Diabetes one. I had double booked myself and promised I would go to both. I think I might be turning into one of those charity Mrs Bouquet types. As I am currently one of those self righteous slimming types "Oooh I can't have that I am on a diet"; I didn't have a hangover the next day. I did have ruddy sore hips though as I had spent the night Salsa-ing with a junior doctor. I must remind myself I am not in my 20's and its been a while since I did the salsa or even a junior doctor..(titters). It was exceptional fun though. Anyway it will limber me up for my new found exercise class Hoola hooping. After the first week I thought ruddy hell this is hard work. I am a superb neck hoola hooper but it doesn't seem to like sitting round my midriff. My teacher keeps saying keep at it you have all the spirit for it. I am not sure if that's like telling someone they look like a meat eater! Well after week one of slimming world and hoola hooping I am 6lbs lighter so something is working. The bear is 2lbs lighter to which is daughter remarked "never mind daddy as Tesco says every little helps". Well at least it will take me only 28 minutes next time to retrieve him from the bin!! 

Right readers I am off to watch The Great British menu whilst eating a Muller light!                

It's the Eyyeeee of the Tigerrrr Grrrrrr

 

Risin' up, straight to the top

Had the guts, got the glory

Went the distance now I'm not gonna stop   

 Just a man and his will to survive
 

So there's the lyrics from Survivors song much covered by the hideous medium of karaoke. Why is it relevant? Well I thought it might be a good idea to be my theme tune to assist me in achieving my New Years resolutions! 

In July I wrote on my blog  

Man or woman if you are out there thinking god I too am conscious when naked then remember these things. I am no Gok but I can talk from experience. There is nothing more beautiful than the human body, its a fantastic piece of machinery. Yes it may be a little wonky or not be how we like it. In truth we can change it if it bothers us so. It requires hard work and you have to decide if today is going to be the first day of doing something about it.

Well I feel that time is here. I still consider myself to have an inner goddess but I can't kid myself any longer I am 42 years old. With that in time will come dodgy hips, creaky back, wonky eyes and other such lovely things. I have to say I am not looking forward to getting older, its not like I want to be Benjamin Button but ageing is bothering me. He did make quite a valuable comment.

For what it's worth: it's never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it.   

So what am I going to do to try and make my body last that little bit longer? Like most people at this time of year I commit to a vow of dieting, exercise  and general health. I have done this before and been successful the picture on my blog profile is 4 years ago when I lost 5 stone in a year courtesy of Pearl at Slimming World. So I can do it so why did it go so wrong over the last few years. possibly because I couldn't be arsed. First pitfall ..apathy! However I might not be miserable or feel oh my god when I look in the mirror and I may beat my beautiful counter part to most cardiac arrests despite the fact she is athletic and toned. That's because I know most short cuts and can slide into a ward like a Michael Jackson tribute act not because I am fitter.  

Unfortunately there isn't a Slimming world here in Jersey, there are endless Weight Watchers. I am not a fan of ready meals and I also had a Little Britain experience when I went to a Weight Watchers class. On arriving to see a very thin woman who when she spoke sounded like she smoked 100 Benson Hedges a day, I knew it was going to be interesting. Her introduction to the class was "look around the room , see who is the fattest.. I bet all your life people have said aww aren't you bonnie.. well you are not bonnie you are fat" (Imagine that said as if you had an ashtray in your gob). She then went off on a tangent by yelling the word "sausages" like Bob Carolgees. If honest it amused me, however I could see not everyone shared my sense of dark humour. 

So today I set out with the intention of being healthy. I didn't do so bad but I think I was assisted when someone popped in my office for something then embarked on a conversation they had just got over Norovirus. Politely I tried to tell them to sod off , they kindly told me I would be OK as we hadn't sat on the same toilet and shared 18 micro organisms on the seat. I promptly threw my sandwich I was eating in the bin. Maybe that's the secret of getting thinner. Eat food  during conversations of loo chat. I am not the same ED Sister who could eat a curry at 6am on a night shift after suturing a big head wound, I have lost that die hard quality required of all ED sisters. Essentially I have gone a bit soft.

So the quorn will be featuring very heavily at dinner, not sure the beau will be very keen, but he is on a health kick too. However he is like stone age man and will rip the leg off a chicken whilst running on a treadmill. He isn't known as the bear for nothing. He will protect his jar of nuts ..life or death.

The exercise, well one of my Christmas presents was a hoola hoop with a lesson. I think this kind of activity will suit my personality, it is hip wiggling after all and I am very good at that! I have done the gym thing but I spend most of my time looking to see how many may require a surgical removal of thong arse or as my friend calls it. " thing me a thong syndrome" . Last time I did the gym I was a young 20 something and on emptying a catheter bag whilst working in ITU, I couldn't get up again. Fortunately a passing anaesthetist oiked me up.  

So there you have it. I am starting the year with the best intention. Maybe by next Christmas I will be like Rocky. Wish me luck

"Adriannnnnnn......Adriannnnnnnnn...Adriannnnnnnn.. help me I am stuck in a 30:2 position..me ruddy hips gone! "

        

The start to the year!

Well I have just dragged my tree out on to my decking, well the beau has; hopefully it won't still be there in March. So that signifies the start to a new year. Baby Jesus from the nativity that apparently looks posh because he has a gold nappy on and a hair style that looks like he has just come out of the salon (quote from the beau's youngest) is now safely in bubble wrap and put away in the loft.

Back to work tomorrow and I should be refreshed so why do I feel like I need a holiday? Christmas has been very hectic, rewarding but hectic. There is something comforting about children at Christmas even if they no longer believe in Santa, they still get giddy and embrace the spirit of Christmas. I think the reason I need a holiday was  perhaps because I over did it. Oi! not because I drank too much (those days are behind me, remember?), but because I felt had to go all traditional at the festive season.

When I was with my ex we always spent Christmas away from home.  Times I will truly treasure. Lovely Christmas Eves sitting in the old square in Prague or in a Pagoda in Portmeirion drinking something sparkly.

I am glad I have those memories, not as Elaine Page would feel though "All alone in the moonlight I can smile at the old days".

Things are very different to those times as I have family. Yes I know I have my sister and my mum and I missed them terribly this year. I thought I had got past homesickness but just shows you  never do completely. Gawd right I am rambling, what I am trying to say was Christmas was a family occasion. I had roasted 3 ruddy meats.. yes I say 3 and made a yule log, Christmas cake and mince pies. The beau just kept shaking his head saying "whats wrong with Marks and Spencer's.. you are making lots of work for yourself?"
This is very true whilst rolling the log in a tea towel  I did think "I wish I had gone to M & S". However watching the excitement on the beau's youngest daughter's face; well that's what is rewarding. Remember readers as the non biological parent you feel you have to go  that little bit further? I am already looking for Easter egg moulds!  

New Year's Eve was very quiet. We were going to have a party but due to the high volume of sickness we cancelled it. I have to say spending a hectic day  taking the beau's daughter to the ED with a broken arm from ice skating; the thought of going home and making blinis, ensuring the bathroom was clean and creating a festive atmosphere well,  I was sort of glad it had to be called off. I think its the first year I have been in bed before 1AM, well excluding being a child that is. As boring as this sounds I was pleased when I woke up the next morning, no hangover , no mess , no aching feet. Dear Lord I sound ancient! What is happening to me? Is this the start of things to come?  Looks over and spies the tequila bottle sitting invitingly on the kitchen work top. Then looks right at the school uniforms waiting to be ironed for tomorrow. Tequila..school uniforms.. tequila ... school uniforms... God dammit!!!

Right well I have to go iron some school uniforms ( the piccy is by K Von Meow) so I will bid you farewell readers. May 2013 be full of adventure, wonder and good surprises. If however it is not I wish you the strength to get through it.

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.