Tuesday, 1 December 2015
Blah blah blah
You find me in a mood. And feeling a bit restless and all over the shop. I feel a bit like Blue Bear looks. Poor thing. Shoved up on the gardening book shelf. He was promised an MOT when his stitches split last month. But there he remains. Overlooked. With all his stuffing hanging out of his rear end. Poor neglected bear.
I found a book token today. It was in my knicker drawer. I've no idea why, although when I want to put something in a safe place, it usually finds it's way there. I mean, who else but me ventures into its' depths. Even I recoil at the rather sad items lurking mournfully within. No frou frou. Just practical pants for Mums on the go, who can no longer tolerate a thong. Anyway, I bought Rachel Joyce's (she of Harold's pilgrimage fame) new book. I really adore her writing, and the blurb tells me that she has faith in the essential goodness of humanity. I could do with some of that right now. This afternoon I've been called an old hag (Alf) and smacked (by Olly). Talk about rotten kids.
I am feeling very ineffective and would really like to have a good long moan to a chum. The kind of moan, where you whinge about this that and the other, and your chum nods encouragingly and tells you that of course you are a wonderful human being. And then she tells you that of course you don't look fat, you look simply marvellous. And you are just imagining the saggy neck and old hands.
I have bought Honey a new dog bed, thanks to the 20% discount from Cath Kidston that arrived in the post. It's in preparation for potential new sofas. I'd really like some material ones, and she won't be able to lay like broccoli on them if I get any. So a fancy new bed, and a bit of persuading that this is where she should lay her head from now on. As you can see, she looks delighted with the new arrangement.
In the past few days, two lovely blogs have said their goodbyes. And while I completely understand their reasons for shutting shop, it still saddens me. I'm aware that I don't post as often as I used to. And quite a few of my favourite bloggers seem to have gone off the boil lately. Are people really turning to Instagram, and other outlets of self expression? Since my phone has broken, I can't deny that I've missed posting snaps on IG, coupled with an off the cuff remark. I enjoy the funny of it. But it really doesn't replace my blog, which has my heart. Does anyone else feel like this?
Lastly, cake. I was chatting to someone about diets today, while buying my Christmas cards. And I decided that there would never come a time that I would give up cake. Cake makes me feel happy. The whole process of cake is fabulous. Making it. Baking it. Eating it. Sharing it. I made two coconut cakes this weekend. Wonderfully fuss free and beautifully moist. One I gave to my sister in law. And what's left of the other is in a tin in the kitchen. I had some with a cup of tea this afternoon, while practising my own brand of mindfulness. And by that I mean that I stared at the wall for half an hour, while planning my weekend away.
Good grief, I'm sure this isn't what you paid a visit for. Sorry about venting the spleen. Let's hope December picks up, shall we?