Hanging In Their Hat

I meant to put this video up a while ago. It's Rocky and Pepe in their hat. As brother and sister they were really close. The dynamics are a bit different now that Pepe's gone and Rocky has two young ladies to contend with. I think he's just taking it all in his stride. Sometimes Rocky lets the two wee ones snuggle in the hat while he has the hammock to himself, sometimes all three of them share the hammock or the hat, but all in all I think Rocky and Meka are a little closer than Rocky and Polly. I can't help but adore Meka because she not only looks like Pepe but she's quite meek and mild in her way of being. Polly is a lovely girl too but I just know she's gonna be hard work cos she's so naughty. Like Pepe, she is always trying to escape and do her own thing. God bless their wee rattie souls.

Another Loss

Just when you think you can't possibly deal with any more heartache life (or rather death) throws another obstacle in your path. Not to make you go crazy, just to remind you that the circle of life continues regardless of what's going on in your own. Poor Paddy departed yesterday. He was my mum's dog but I'd spent a lot of time with him. The year that I lived in Ballymena with a certain ex boyfriend was spent, mostly, taking Paddy and Rosie for walks. I know this seems like a callous thing to say but it was the only decent thing that ex boyfriend ever did. But, as we all know, dogs do not discriminate and Paddy was rather fond of him. Paddy was a bit of a schmoozer though and was fond of many folk.

Paddy was old and sick and that's a lethal combination. In a word he was done. I kinda know how the poor fella felt but us humans have a habit of feeling done, even when we're not. So, the past few weeks have been nothing but grieving. Apparently, when a smoker decides to give up cigarettes it is akin to grieving. The cigarette has been your friend for so long that when you quit it feels like that friend is dead. So first I lost my pet rat, then I gave up smoking, then my relationship with my boyfriend crumbled to pieces and now Paddy has gone too. Yesterday I was too numb to feel sad. Today I just feel like everything I've known and grown comfortable with has been ripped from underneath my feet. But this is all part of the process. The circle of life means that with each ending there is a new beginning.

The Times They Are Achangin'

Please let the spring come fast. New beginnings and all that. The past few weeks have been tough as hell. I guess I didn't realise how badly Pepe's death would affect me. And the quitting smoking. And just life in general. I can't be bothered to explain the ins and outs because I've talked to everyone just recently. They all promise me that my life is not over and things will get better. I do believe them but it's been an exhausting time.

I generally do not like blogging when I'm down but, if I waited 'til I was happy, the few readers that I have would slowly lose interest. And besides, things are never that bad really. I have my niece to give me joy and hope. I have my rats to snuggle with. I have the very best friends and family anyone could ask for. I just have to have faith that everything else will fall into place.

I used to feel guilty about not appreciating all that I have in my life because I know that, compared to some, I have a lot. But, just as some people are unlucky to have illnesses such as diabetes, or epilepsy, or asthma, I am unlucky to have depression. I think it is very much ingrained in our society to believe that depression is merely a sign of weakness. I am learning that though I suffer from a mental illness, it is just as real as any physical illness.

I have put an awful lot of pressure on myself for years and years. I am not a perfectionist the same way as most people are but when it comes to how I believe I should live my life I set myself very high standards. Standards that are so high it is inevitable that at some point I let myself down. And I do it again and again and again. And I've done it for years and years and years. And I am so, so, so tired. So now it's time to cut myself some slack and hopefully change the negative thought cycles so that I can get to a place in my life where I am content to be me. Because, being me isn't that bad. And I think the sooner I realise this the sooner I will conquer this depression that has hung over me for so long.

Get Back Jo Jo

Oh what a week it has been! So, Meka and Jo Jo, our 2 new baby girls. Except that Jo Jo was a man who thought he was a woman, but he knew it couldn't last. Jakers and I wanted 2 girls to keep Rocky company. The reason we wanted girls was because we thought that introducting young, un-neutured bucks would put Rocky's nose out of joint. Rats are pack animals and in packs there will always be competition over dominance.

We arrived home with Jo Jo and Meka and introduced them to Rocky. Rocky immediately went over to groom Meka (a sign of him showing his authority). Little Meka closed her eyes and let Rocky do what he wanted to do. Jo Jo, on the other hand, was trying to run rings round Rocky and kept leaping up onto his back. This aggravated Rocky and there were a few scuffles.

Jo Jo's behaviour seemed more masculine than feminine and on closer inspection of his gemitals Jakers and I both thought he looked more like a boy than a girl. We took Jo Jo back to the pet shop where the shop keeper who was happy to let us trade Jo Jo for a rat we knew was definitely female.

So, now we have Rocky, Meka and a little white rat, with a ginger head and no name. Our little rat family is complete. All three of them are lying snoozing in the hammock. Rocky definitely likes the new rat better than he liked Jo Jo. Which wouldn't have been hard considering he hated Jo Jo. It had to be what was best for Rocky. He is much more content now and back to eating properly. I'm sure he has not forgotten Pepe but at least he is not so lonely now. I don't have any photos just yet but will post as soon as I can.

Old Addictions and New Additions

Today is day 3 of no smoking. It's going a lot better than I thought it would. I think my week of mental preparation has done me proud. I am doing this without any nicotine substitutes. I don't see the point in prolonging my addiction without the so-called pleasure of actually smoking.

Now I feel that I've got this far it would be complete lunacy to ever smoke again. I feel pleased that I have taken control over my life, rather than letting my addiction control me.

But, more importantly, we have two new additions to our rat clan. Rocky has been miserable since Pepe's departure. He's been off his food and has been looking very folorn. It was breaking my heart to see him so sad and lonely. It's a well known fact that rats can die of depression if they have lost a mate and apparently it can happen quite quickly. So, without further ado, we went down to the pet shop and picked up 2 new babies. Of course, nothing is ever straightforward for me when it comes to rats. We arrived back home with Jo Jo and Meka. But anyway, that's a story in itself and one I will keep for tomorrow.

R.I.P. Sweet P.

Today is a struggle. Pepe passed away this morning just after 10. I don't care if she was a rat, she was my rat and she was precious. Last night we were hopeful that she'd pull through. The vet had given her an injection and she was taking small amounts of liquid. I set her out a bowl of yoghurt. She had a little. She fell asleep with her little paws hanging over the edge of the bowl and her nose nearly touching the yoghurt.

Later I took her out of the cage and nursed her in a tea towel for a while. She looked a bit more comfortable than she had been but was still frail and weak. I wanted to cradle her all night but I couldn't. Later in the night she had one last little burst of energy trying to get into her main cage, with Rocky. I kind of knew then that she was dying because rats will always want to go back to their nest to die. I couldn't let her though in case Rocky picked up the infection too.

This morning I really knew it was bad. Her breathing was so light and she was a little cold. I had to leave for work but I told Jakers she wasn't making much improvement and that the vet opened at 10. I called him shortly after 10. He said she wasn't good and, while I was asking him a million questions and giving a million orders, he said to me, "Darling she's stopped breathing". At which point I started to cry down the phone, which made Jakers cry. I thought it was very poignant that she held on long enough to take her last breath while I was on the phone. It was the closest I could be to her side. After I cried for a while I told Jakers to put her into to the cage for a minute so Rocky could say goodbye. Jakers said Rocky groomed her for a while and sniffed her a bit. He seemed to understand.

I know it is hard for some people to understand how I could be upset over a rat but Rocky and Pepe have been my babies for a year. Many a night I have gone out drinking and gone home early to see the rats. When they'd sleep top to toe in the hammock together they looked like a ying yang symbol. I used to love poking my finger inbetween where their stomachs met and giving them a little tickle. And I loved the way when I stroked Pepe's head how her eyes would close over in bliss. And, though I'm sad, I'm able to raise a little smile when I think of her biting Jakers nipple a few weeks ago. It was only a gentle nibble, like what they do to each other when they're grooming.


Me and Jakers are sitting here now remembering all her ways. Rocky is content for the mean time, eating some banana. Next week will be tough on him when we're out at work but I'm hoping he only has to go a few days without company. The reason we got Pepe was for him. Rats don't do good on their own. As soon as I can I'll get 2 more babies. Rocky is such a gentle, docile fella that I don't think we need to worry about them getting on. He needs someone to cuddle with in the hammock. And he needs someone to keep him on his toes like Pepe did. God rest her wee soul.

Poor Pepe

If you could see a picture of this wee girl right now, it doesn't matter how much you dislike rats, your heart would break. Jakers noticed the other night that she had blood on her neck and chin. Our initial reaction was to assume she'd had a fight with Rocky and he'd bit her neck. I took her into the bedroom to try and clean her up and get a look at her but rat's are such delicate little creatures that I was afraid of doing more harm than good.

She also had blood around her nose and I wondered, if Rocky had bit her neck, why she had blood on her nose. And it seemed strange that Rocky did not have any blood on him whatsoever. I did some research on the internet and found her symptoms to be similar to an upper respiratory infection. Either way she was going to have to see the vet.

Mum and I took her this morning. My prognosis was right. At first the vet thought she did have a wound on her neck but when she cleaned Pepe up there was no gash. I was relieved in a way because I didn't think Rocky could be capable of causing such harm, and if he was, we'd have to keep them seaparate. But she is a very poorly little rat and it's breaks my heart to see her like this.

Pepe is the cheeky one. She's the one we had bother with escaping and trying to assert her authority. Nothing was going to keep Pepe back from exploring and doing her own thing and we had our work cut out with her. Now we have built up trust with her she is the sweetest girl. I'm particularly close to her because Jakers was also the one disciplining her. I got to be the good cop and she bonded well with me. Getting them back into they're cage after a scoot out is a breeze. We either usher them along to the cage where they're happy to jump in themselves, or Pepe will crawl up onto my sleeve and I'll carry her over.

One night, Rocky had already climbed back in the cage himself and Pepe was lurking outside the cage. It was bedtime and I went to usher her in the cage. Even though she was right by it she insisted on doing a full circuit of the living room, running behind the chairs and sofa, eventually arriving right back at the cage and jumping in. This is just another example of how Pepe likes to do things her own way.

Right now she is weak and resting. I managed to force her to drink a few drops of warm water mixed with sugar and salt. The vet sait to try to encourage her to eat. I suggested plenty of fresh fruit and the vet replied "Whatever she wants". I'm going out shortly to get her some yoghurt and cheese. The yoghurt should be easier for her to take but if my sweetpea wants cheese she will have cheese.

Today Is A Gift

Yesterday is the past. Tomorrow is the future. Today is a gift, that's why we call it the 'present'

I wish I could cite this quote properly. I think, though I may be wrong, that it comes from a children's animated film, in which all humans have a 'spirit animal'. The reason I'm quoting it is because I've decided to quit smoking. I decided during the weekend that I would allow myself one more week of smoking and then that was it. It has been in my thoughts to quit for many years now but I carried on with my addiction, convincing myself that it was never the right time. There is no right time though and that kind of reasoning is merely a form of procrastination. There's no time like the present when it comes to getting things done.

I have allowed myself a week of mental preparation though. The reason being is I want a week of smoking but viewing it differently. Viewing it less as an addiction and more as just something silly that I do. I am noticing that I don't actually crave cigarettes so much. I wake up in the morning and convince myself that I could go without my morning smoke. I still have it but there isn't the same satisfaction.

I have made several lists. The first list is reasons why I should quit. I managed to come up with 10 reasons. When I feel the urge to smoke I just need to look at all those reasons for quitting. I also plan to keep myself extremely busy next week. When I'm not working I will try to fill my time constructively. I can paint, play guitar, excercise and read. I will go visitng friends in the evenings. Take as many driving lessons as I can possibly get and, basically, mentally and physically wear myself out so that I have no time to think about smoking.

As well as that I shall indulge in nature's remedies by taking lavender baths and drinking chamomile tea. Anything to take the edge off. I have been mentally prepping myself for dealing with the onset of cravings. I will tell myself that, not only will I be saving money, I won't stink or have stained teeth and I won't be setting a bad example to my darling nieces. So with all that in mind I feel well equipped to deal with whatever this whole stopping smoking buisness has in store for me. I don't assume it'll be a walk in the park but there's no point going into it with a defeatist attitude. Nicotene doesn't have control over me, I have control over me. Who knows what next week will bring though. It's just another big wave that I gotta ride out.

How Big Do You Want It?

I was chatting to a mate about music. Let's call this guy Lenny. He's a bit of a cheese merchant when it comes to music so when he was listing off a few bands that he liked, and he got to Nickelback, I scrunched up my face in disapproval and told him I hated them. Then I said, in all seriousness, "Nickelback, that's a kind of a fish, isn't it?"

"Naw", said Lenny, "That's a stickleback"

And then he went on to tell me that the band got the name Nickelback from when the lead singer worked in a shop and he was always saying "here's your nickel back". For some reason I felt the need to google this to make sure Lenny wasn't spinning some crap but he was telling the truth. The lead singer worked in Starbucks. So, I may become a famous rock star yet. I guess if I was going to name my band after a phrase I use all the time it could be Matt or Gloss? but that reminds me too much of the 80's duo Bros who were brothers call Matt and Luke. Another choice would be How Big Do You Want It? This, of course, is the question you ask when a customer is asking you to enlarge a photograph for them.

Life Is Like A Jigsaw

I can't wait to have kids. This is no secret. But it's not children I want to post about. This post is about how we fill our lives up with materialistic goods, a behaviour that is learned, rather than innate.

Jakers had his wee girl up tonight. She wants for nothing. For Christmas her daddy bought her a new phone. One of these android phones that does everything (except walk the dog). She also has a DS Nintendo. Both of which she had with her tonight but when I sat down to do my jigsaw she asked if she could help. So we spent the next hour jigsawing, which warmed wee Jakers' heart. Ok, we couldn't have bonded without some kind of materialistic possession, but surely a jigsaw is much more wholesome than computer games?

The point is though, children don't need T.V. and video games to entertain them, adults need them to entertain the kids. Why? Because life is so hectic and meaningless now that adults all rush around trying to do the things they think they're supposed to do, and they have no time to do the simple things with children. And the simple things really are very simple. I wholeheartedly believe that children will revel in almost any activity, so long as they have the company of others. Adults forget this and think it's better to do things alone because they'll get it done quicker and, more importantly, they'll get to do it their own way.

I've always believed I was born in the wrong era. I benefit form modern technology and I utilise it but I am aware of how souless it all is. I wonder when the term 'escapism' was coined and was there ever a time when we didn't feel the need to escape?

The Taoist That Strayed

You know how technology is, great when it's working, annoying when it's not. The other day in work we had a customer sitting at one of our computers choosing his photos. We do this when their CD or their pendrive doesn't work in the kiosks. Another customer walked in. I heard his voice before I actually seen him. It was a voice I knew as this particular guy has been in a few times and he's somewhat memorable.

I would call him an excitable chap. He doesn't so much speak but holler in a high pitched tone. He likes to chat about photography and how Apple is better than microsoft (a debate I refuse to participate in) and he doesn't like to make eye contact. I say none of this in a hateful way. He is quite the character.

Anyway, it was my colleague who was serving him at the kiosk and as she was finishing off his order the guy was pacing around the shop chatting away to no one in particular when he noticed the customer sitting at the computer. This is when my ears pricked up as I heard him say "I hope that's not Stray Taoist, he's my friend on Flickr"

Well, he didn't say Stray Taoist, what he said was Stray Toysta, but I knew he meant Stray Taoist and I knew that he had never atcually met him in person, just that he had him as a contact on Flickr.

The Man Who Wasn't Stray Taoist finished his order and left and our little friend said "I bet that was Stray Taoist". I sniggered to myself as I knew it most definitely wasn't but I didn't want to burst the guy's bubble.

So Mr. Taoist, if you have a wee random contact on your Flickr list that sounds like he might fit the bill of our delightful little customer you can let him know that it was most definitely not you sitting in my place of work. And you can thank him for brightening up my day.

In Which I Climb Through A Window

When you get to a certain age you begin to enjoy going back to normality after the festive season. Sure, work's a bore but you need that boredom to appreciate the calm and relaxation when you're not working.

This year is an important one for me. For no other reason than I've decided it is. I now have a goal for my driving. I aim to have my license before I turn 30 in April. This will also be the year that I save up so I can do some further education. I am sick of dead end jobs and caring way more than I am paid to care. But that's not my employer's fault, though it doesn't stop me hating them for it.

Basically, I hope to change my whole philosophy on life. I have spent long enough thinking about the things in life that make me happy. Now it is time to stop thinking and start doing. This involves being pro-active. It involves a healthy body and healthy mind. I have a tendency to get caught in negative thought processes. I need to learn jedi mind tricks to break the vicious cycles. Before Christmas I cut out sugar. It no longer has the hold it once had on me. The next stage of the process is excercise. And the stage after that is overcoming the evil beast that is nicotene.

If it doesn't happen this year I shall not be too hard on myself. We never know what's round the corner. The day before New Year's Eve I had a knock at the door. It was the Polish lady who lives in the flat below. She was anxious and asked if my boyfriend was home. Jakers was at work. She grabbed my arm asking me to come with her. As we rushed down the stairs she explained that the man that lived in the flat next to her wouldn't answer his door and he'd left his oven on. She had noticed when she was outside and she could smell burning. His kitchen window was slightly ajar and when she opened it smoke billowed out. She showed me quickly before dragging me into her flat to get a step ladder. Even though she was anxious she was eager for me to see her cosy flat and show me her bible. She needed me to to help because I was thin and she wouldn't fit through the window.

So, she held the step ladder for me as I climbed through the window to switch off the oven. The smoke was pretty bad. The kitchen door was closed and she reckoned the old man had fallen asleep. After she was sure that the oven was off she told me to come out. She thanked me and said that we had to do it because one day it could be me, or her, who was in need of help. I am sure that if I hadn't climbed through the window someone else would have noticed and helped, at least have called the fire brigade. But I suppose there's something kind of heroic about nipping it in the bud before it gets to that stage. And the old dude downstairs has his lovely Polish neighbour to thank for that. I often have chats with her on the stairs. And one day I walked in and she had a bunch of flowers. I commented on how nice they were and she plucked a few flowers from it and gave them to me. We should all strive to be as neighbourly as Gabi.

Like A Pack Of Teenagers

I love Dirt Bird. You could tell her that her favourite band was playing a special, private gig and you'd got her tickets to go but she'd still want to spend New Year's out at the Dreen with Nellybert. It's tradition now. Just the same as Boxing Day dinner is a tradition. Another tradition is the entertainment provided by Nellybert and Mr. and Mrs. Banjo. If you don't believe me here is the photographic evidence.



Mr. Banjo is on the prowl. At first Mr. Banjo tries whispering a few sweet nothings to Nelly. She is mildly disinterested.



Mr. Banjo tries a more hands on approach but Nelly, clearly, thinks that he is only after one thing, her precious bottle of wine.




Mr. Banjo is really trying his hand now. He goes in for a peck on the cheek, right in front of Bert, who is red with anger behind that big hand of his.



All of a sudden Mrs. Banjo appears, seemingly disapproving of Mr. Banjo's advances towards Nelly, Bert's anger has been replaced by an envy of the attention that Nelly is receiving. Nelly is red though not through anger, just sheer utter excitement.



Mrs. Banjo decides to give Mr. Banjo a taste of his own medicine and Bert's envy is replaced by joy and glee. Nelly is just mildly amused.

So that is how we spent the New Year. That and a bit of harmless New Year Planking. Mr. Banjo juinor received piano lessons off Dirt Bird and played chopsticks repeatedly for at least an hour and a half. She then taught him Auld Lang Syne just in time for the clock striking 12. He was under presseure too as we only asked him to learn it at twenty to twelve. He done great.

Mud Madness

Well, Christmas went by in a busy, blurry haze. Work was crazy the whole week before. My one day of reprieve was Friday, which was meant to be spent meeting Zoe and the girls for early morning coffee, a bit of last minute present buying, wrapping and delivering, meeting Mel for a while and a little bit of chilling. On Thursday I had a doctor's appointment. We were crazy in work and I had to leave at half four to make the doc's in Cullybackey. The shop was closing at half five but I said I'd call back to get a bit more done. I was out of the doc's by ten past five, moms kindly picked me up and dropped me back in Ballymena. I spent half an hour in work before going to get my haircut. It needed it, badly. I was in and out of the hairdressers in twenty minutes. I went back into work and stayed til ten past seven. I went home, changed my clothes, briefly said hello to Jakers and headed straight back out to meet Dirt Bird at the pub. I was there fifteen minutes before she arrived and it was the first time I stopped all day.

Then Dirt Bird arrived and we hugged and chatted, and then more people arrived and we drank and we chatted. There were guitars and singing and new friends and old friends and it was one of those nights where Richard was begging us to leave so he could lock up. Clearly in the mood for more drinking and merriment Dirt Bird and I headed to someone's house with a few others. That was when things started getting a bit hazy. I do remember, however, that it was about 4 O'Clock in the morning before I suddenly declared that I had to go home and eat. And five minutes later some kind of warm cheesy toastie was place in front of me, of which I ate half and then proceeded to start a fight with Dirt Bird. The fight was very brief and we made up five minutes later, whilst crying and hugging on the sofa. By which time it was 7 O'Clock in the morning and Jakers was phoning me wondering where I was. He was up for training. So I made the short five minute walk home, but not without slipping in the muddy grass and arriving at the door to Jakers a drunken, emotional, muddy mess.

Needless to say that the next day was a total washout. None of which really mattered except not meeting Z for coffee. It was the first time I've ever let down a 2 year old because of booze and it did not feel good. I did meet Mel though and introduced her to the delights of a mint frappe. Perfect for an overhang.

My Lovely Laptop

I have just transferred all my music from the old laptop to my new baby, I mean, new laptop. This included the music I pillaged from mum's collection. I have also been on a crazed downloading spree. I am committing the mortal sin of using itunes as my medium of choice. I know it's blasphemous but it's just so handy. I am in music heaven. I never know what song's gonna play next but I know it's gonna be awesome.

I've been using LastFM to discover new music. You just have to put in the name of a band you like and it will reccommend lots of similar bands. Somehow, I stumbled upon the amazing Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros and they are my new favourite band. I love the fact the lead singer, Alex Ebert, looks like Jesus. I also love the fact that the band played their first gig in a place called Marfa.

Music never used to be something I had to work at to get. If I came across a band I liked I'd just go to my dad's CD collection and, more than likely, discover that he had every album they ever made. Sometimes I ask him now what I should be listening to. But sometimes he keeps secrets from me. Like Melissa Auf Der Maur. I had to discover her all by myself. I guess I'm a big girl now. Not only that, my dad is the odd time disappointed in me for liking someone he hates, like Jose Gonzalez and Ray Lamontagne.

Break Your Back Mountains

I have learnt something about myself. A few days ago I felt totally hopeless. I had given up on a lot of things. My patience ran out and I hit rock bottom, yet again. It's common knowledge that we often have to be in the depths before we can rise above everything again. Sometimes people's ups and downs in life can be more dramatic. When they are going up in life they are climbing Mount Everest. It's a long way up and a long way down. The ups and downs are more gradual, with longer gaps between reaching the summit and falling back down again. My ups and downs seem more like I'm climbing Slemish. More of a hill, really, than a mountain. I don't seem to go too far before I'm falling back down again. The cycle comes round again so much more quickly. I guess I should probably try climbing Everest.

And, I shouldn't dwell too much on the falling down part, just be greatful that I have the most amazing people in my life to help me back on my feet. And I guess I should look past the summit of little old Slemish and see the great rolling hills behind it. They're a bit snowy at the minute but they'll be thawed in a week or two.

In the meantime, it is Christmas and there is plenty to be getting on with. There is even time to sit in front of the computer wishing I could be as flexible and agile as Lil Crabe here who can only be described as a breakdancing contortionist. It takes him a wee minute to get warmed up but please give him time as he's pretty damn awesome.

I Wish

Why can't I feel like this instead? How come I was more mature back then? Something tells me I shouldn't write this post, feeling the way I do, but I don't care. I want the world to know how I feel. Yes, there are good break-ups, but when they're shit, they're shit. And this one's shit.

Apparently, many people will have you believe, the universe is unfolding as it should. If that is so then what the fuck is the universe trying to tell me? Because I'm bored of this unfolding and thinking that, finally, everything's gonna be ok only to be slapped in the face and right back at square one. Yes, I am talking about the unravelling of my relationship. But, I'm also talking about it all, life in general.

I have nothing solid or concrete. I have focused more on trying to be the best person I could rather than 'grounding' myself. Part of my quest for self approval (a tough one as I have very high standards) was to experience the world a little and broaden my horizons. And now I look back on my quest of self discovery and realise that achieving my dream of travel is what broke me in the end. So, how can I believe in anything anymore, let alone true love? And how can you have a soul mate if you have no soul?

Learning the Hard Way

It's hard to believe I'm turning 30 next year. Especially when I make the kind of foolish mistakes that shouldn't be made by someone who is nearly 30.

I've been suffering from a nasty cough for a few weeks now. Jakers had it before me and I was hoping I wouldn't get smited because I could see how it was one of those lingering ones. The cough, for me, is particularly bad at night so I bought myself a cough bottle. I have went through pretty much every single cold and flu of my life without medicating myself. The first real flu I ever had (a freshers flu at uni) I got by on just a vicks inhaler. I didn't realise I had flu because I never had one before. And, I wasn't aware of flu remedies.

So every single cold I've had I've just muggled on because it was never as bad as that flu. But someone told me recently "When you feel pain, that's God's way of reminding you to take painkillers". I'm not a of purist though. I have munched my way through endless packets of pills when I've been suffering from frequent bouts of toothache. But colds never seem to warrant medication.

So, I bought myself a cough bottle, which helped me get a half decent sleep at least. When the bottle ran out and the cough had not shifted I went to the medicine cabinet and hoked out a bottle of medicine I was prescribed for blocked sinuses and ears. I somehow equated this medicine with my Boots cough bottle. Medicine's medicine, surely? Especially when they both come in the same form of a gloopy, sweet syrup. Bound to soothe the throat. Well, it did. And I still only used it at night when the cough was worse.

After a few days of feeling woozy, lightheaded and weak I tried to think about what was making me feel this way. The fact that I've completely cut sugar and e-numbers from my diet made me think I could be suffering from sugar withdrawal. A quick search on the internet showed that some of the symptoms were similar but after two weeks the worst of it should have been over. I've been off sugar for two months now. Another quick internet search showed that the medicine pseudoephedrine is much more likely to be the cause. It is a nasal and sinus decongestant and does nothing at all for a dry tickly cough. It is also a stimulant and it's adverse effects include anxiety, excitability, dizziness and palpitations.

So, it seems, the pseudoephedrine is the culprit for why I feel so goddam awful. Everytime I breathe in I feel lightheaded and woozy. This wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to constantly breathe in. But, sadly, I do. My energy levels are worse than they've ever been and I feel like I'm wading through mud. I have butterflies in my tummy and I just want to sleep for a million years. I threw the medicine in the bin yesterday but I guess I just need to work the rest out of my system. And, not only that, before I was taking the medicine my sinuses were 100 per cent and now I can feel them getting all sore and sensitive. At the grand age of 29, I have learnt the all important lesson of only taking prescription medicines for what they were, initially, prescribed for.

FaceBlockr

So this makes sense: I have a facebook, flickr and blogger accounts. Why not roll it all into one?? Clever. Except that there's something I like about having it all seperate. My blogger is mostly for family to read about what's going on in my life (or what's not going on in my life). Sometimes I feel I should be sensible in my choice of what to share with the world. After all, it's a wide open space for all of cyberland to see.

Facebook is more for reminding everyone I ever kissed, hugged or got drunk with that I am still alive and still me. I can be a bit more open on Facebook knowing that only certain people can see my life.

Flickr is my photo account but the photos that I choose to share on it portray me as a doting aunt and a fairly normal human who gets out and about oncest in a while and takes nice photos of nice things.

The photos I upload to Facebook, however, portray me as a stupid, drunk, nearly-thirty-year-old who really is old enough to know better but is too stupid and drunk to care. People I don't want to see the photos don't. The ticket is to politely decline any unwanted friends and blame the ether for swallowing up all the data that was intended to be their friendshop request. I am well used to shrugging my shoulders and saying "technology". I will not go into how technology is much like a woman because I am a woman and that would be inappropriate. All's I will say on that matter is Spice Birds, Girl Power, where the f**k did that get us?

But anyway, back to the topic of Tumblr and rolling everything all into one handy account which would actually suit me very much as I find it difficult to remember more than one username and password combination. Do I opt for convenience over my right to split personality disorder. Do I succumb to being one boring, middle of the road me or do I cling on to the fact that in certain web spaces I can choose to show only the parts of me that I want to at that particular time? Who knows? Apparently this Tumblr thing isn't really gonna catch on until 2014 (this makes me laugh, how can they possibly predict such a thing?) so do I get in there early and when everyone else catches on I can declare it shite just as all the early facebookers did with bebo, or do I give in to the fact that I am deluding myself over the fact that I am so interesting as to have multiple cyber personalities? And maybe it's too late.

I Like The Way You Moo!

I stumbled across this. I'm not normally a lover of stupid things but I couldn't help laugh at this one partly because I like the original tune but, mostly because I like cows. And I like they they're big brown snouts.

Little Shop Of Sunshine

Okay, I need humoured. I have a plan. A very lucrative buisness plan. I was discussing it today with my work colleague, who is also my childhood best friend. I've told her, on many's a drunken night, that our paths did not meet again to fester away in a downtown shop making the rich man richer and make ourselves cynical and bitter. Oh no! We were destined for much greater things.

So, our plan involves running our own shop. This shop will sell everything handcrafted. A range of jewelry made from beads, silver, fimo and whatever else we can get our hands on. I'm thinking of covering all areas from classic to kitsch. There will also be a wood section. For years I've been saying to Bert, who's a bit of a wood whisperer, that he should get into the wooden toy market. I told him I would sell them in a heartbeat. I also know a few other people that are a dab hand at the arts and crafts. Basically, we would run the shop as a co-operative. Whoever wanted to sell their products could.

I like the idea of the workshop being open as well so that when people come into browse you don't have to be breathing down they're neck. Our shop would have a lovey ambient atmosphere. And it would smell like fresh watermelon and kiwi.

I'd like to make use of the beeswax out at Nellybert's. Unfortunately Burt's Bees is already a well known product so I think we'd have to think of another name for all the lip bams, hand creams and ointments I'll be making.

Obviously there'd be a photography section where local photographer's (not naming names, cough cough) could display and sell they're art. And I think it would be nice to offer a selection of tasty homemade cupcakes and muffins. Oh, and I forgot, I know a good few people who can knit up a storm :)

I got very excited when I was telling Jakers all about it. He says he could do a website for it. I like the idea of having a buisness that, if it worked, would benefit not only me but several members of my family and friends. I know it's a cut throat word out there and I know that I think about things in a somewhat naive way but sure, if it makes me happy for an evening.

A Cuddle With Charlie

So it's day 3 out at the Dreen. Mum and Bert are in Norfolk visiting Katkins. I am on duty. This is how the average day goes: I wake up. While carers are in with Pearlie I let out pigs and hens and feed them. I come in and light Pearlie's fire and make her tea. Give Bonnie her tablet and give all 3 dogs breakfast. Then it's time for a coffee for me. Quick wash and check on Pearlie's fire. In the evening there's the whole siege of putting hens and pigs back in and feeding the dogs, cats, Pearlie and me.

In between the morning and evening rushes there are endless cups of tea to be made, several trips to the shed for fuel replenishment, the odd egg to fry and (thanks to Charlie having an upset tummy) quite a lot of soiled newspapers to bin. I have also been able to squeeze in a bit of time for internetting, dog grooming and painting. I have also came up with clues for a treasure hunt for my youth group. I pillaged mum's music collection and did a bout of dowloading and so I now have my ipod up and running again. This is the most productie I've been. Ever.

Charlie has been etting on not too bad without mum and Bert and Judy. He hangs in the sitting room with me and tries to lark about with the other 2 dogs. Paddy positively hates him and Bonnie is not particularly keen on him either. So Charlie makes do with me and the cats. He's cuddling with me on the sofa now.

Kung Fu Come Do What You Do To Me

It's been all go go go here this week again. We had the builders in changing our heating syste from Economy 7 to gas. It's been totally worth the upheaval to have lovely toasty radiators and hot water on demand. We got a nice new gas fire put in, which is lovely for us but sad for the rats as the little gap underneath the old firelace was their favourite hidey hole.

In order for the gas to be changed we had to redd out the cuboards that had hel all the junk Jakers wouldn't let me throw in the skip when I first moved in. Seeing it all out on the floor made him realise that he needs to get rid of a good bit more junk. I wasn't allowed to chuck it all though as, I've recently learnt, Jakers has a strange sentimental attachment to certain broken objects. For example, he wouldn't let me throw away the, now useless, graphics card from his very first computer. Nor would he part with an old mixing deck that he and Dr. D had recorded many's a drunken tune on. I understand we all grow attached to inanimate objects but this, to me, includes things like teddy bears and old letters. The idea that anyone can become attached to technology seems ludicrous. Having said that, I don't think Jakers sentiments are wrong, I just find it odd how we can be so different.

Tonight is Jakers big night. I'm not saying anything about it until I know the outcome. This is because I don't even know if I'll want to write about it. He's excited and nervous. I've a feeling I should be too but I'm calm at the minute. Let's see how calm and colleted I am in a few hours!

Sisters

Well, it's been busy and exciting times. I now have two gorgeous nieces instead of one and, I have to say, one of the highlights this year was being present when the two sisters were introduced.

On Saturday night Jakers and I went bowling with his mum, his brother and The Boyfriend. The mum's boyfriend that is, not his brother's boyfriend. We had a great wee night and it ended with many ciders, a few whiskies, a music sesh and pizza. Actually it didn't end there, it ended with me Jakers and his bro walking back home with Jakers shouting at me to hurry up while I drunkenly dawdled by behind claiming that I was just doing my 'own wee thing'. I'm not sure what 'my own wee thing was' because I went home and promptly passed out, fully clothed, on top of the bed.

Well, I had planned on doing a really nice thoughtful post on Sisters, y'know, because of my sister giving birth to a sister for her daughter. Just gets you thinking....but, unfortuntely, my train of thought was interrupted by Jaker's and a mate coming in from training, all full of testosterone and pumped up on protein shakes and doing stretches, manly ones of course. So it kinda rained on my sweet girly sentiments. I will keep for another day.

The Good, The Bad And The Rest

Today I am feeling lazy. Too lazy to construct paragraphs. So I will sum up my week in a series of good and bad points. Obviously, being the sort of person that I am, I will start with the negative:

Bad Thing - Having wisdom tooth ripped out leaving me sore and naive :(

Good Thing - Jakers reading my mind and knowing that an omelette was exactly what I
wanted for dinner :)

Bad Thing - Rotten taste in my mouth due to aforementioned extraction :(

Good Thing - Off sweets, chocolates, biscuits and desserts for over a week and feel
great :)


Bad Thing - Off sweets chocolates and biscuits and a new and interesting sweet shop
has just opened :(

Good Thing - Successful driving lesson. 10+ roundabouts conquered :)

Bad Thing - Still shit at changing gears and general driving :(

Good Thing - Going round to Jaker's friends' for authentic Peruvian cuisine :)

Bad Thing - General annoyance at work :(

Good Thing - Tomorrow is Sunday :)

Riddled

This is day five of no sugar. That is, no sugar in the form of sweets, chocolate, biscuits or desserts. I allow myself yoghurts and maple and pecan granola and fruit. It hasn't even been that difficult. I've had a couple of dreams of eating chocolates but in the dream I am disappointed in myself. I don't wake up in the morning disappointed that I have no sweets.

Yesterday Jakers and I headed out to Nellybert's for a little woodwork project. Last week I called into an old fashioned DIY type store in town. I thought it was Herbison's but that is the shop on the opposite side of the street (long closed now and nobody seems to remember what kind of shop it was). I called in on the offchance that he might sell bits of wood. Apparently not, and apparently I was a total eejit for even thinking so. He said to try a timber yard or B&Q both of which I scoffed at being no use. He then reached up to a shelf where one lonely, dusty box sat. It was some form of wooden shelves. It was no use but I noticed the many tubs of rat killer on the shelf below. I laughed and told the shopkeeper I wanted the wood for my rat cage. I was just about to leave when he went out the back and came out with a plank of wood.

'Would that be of any use to you' Says he.

'Oh aye, that would do the job alright. What will you take for it? Says I.

'Och, a pound will do' Says He.

'A pound? Sure take two for it.' Says I.

'Oh no, no, a pound will do.'

And with that I marched up the street with my plank of wood under my arm.

When I got home I showed it to Jakers. He asked me how much it cost and I told him, proudly, that it only cost a pound. Jakers was disgusted. I was ripped off. I paid a pound for an old dusty shelf that had fallen off the wall. And it was riddled with woodworm.

Farewell Sweet Friend

After many years of abusing my body with various things I have decided that it is time to give up one of my worst vices. You would think that smoking would be the obvious choice, and it will happen some day, but for now I plan to rid the evil sugar demon from my blood. Some people might be surprised to learn that sugar is just as hard to kick as heroin. Only joking, but it is as hard to kick as nicotine.

When you're addicted to sugar you never feel thirsty. I've often worried that my poor brain is dehydrated. I don't feel stupid or anything but it can't be good for me never being thirsty. Even when I'm in hot countries.

So last night I decided that me and sugar were not a good combination. If I merely had a 'sweet tooth' it would be ok but, unfortunately, I'm going to have to be an 'all or nothing' kinda girl when it comes to sweets. It's gonna be hard. Really hard. I'm the girl who dreams about sweets then wakes up disappointed because I have none, the girl who trawls around restaurants asking them if they will serve me dessert only, the girl who orders sweets online, I was going to be the auntie who let her niece try all the best sweets. Sweets and sugar have been such a massive part of my life for so many years. How will I ever cope? I also feel bad that I got Jakers hooked on the stuff. And him a purist who doesn't drink booze and only eats his dinner from Marks and Spencers.

Why It's Rude To Point

Oh, the perils of working with the general public! Picture the scene: A lady is sitting at one of our computers in work, picking some photos she would like printed. A man is at the other computer picking out a picture of his dog to put on a mousemat. The lady is sat at the computer with her back to the display wall. Behind her is a picture of Judy when she was a pup. The man decided on his picture and I took his details. As he was leaving I commented on what a lovely dog he had and pointed at the wall whilst asking "Would you like to breed your dog with that girl there?" But to the woman sat at the computer, who didn't know there was a piture of a dog behind her, it looked as if I was pointing at her. Fortunately everyone found it funny.

It was Jakers birthday on Friday. We were meant to go for a Birthday lunch but I slept in 'til 3 O'Clock so we went for dinner instead. During our meal we discussed, at length, how they had made the walls in the restaurant, where to find a sheep herding mongolian breeder (this is an ongoing private joke, which I am pretty sure no one else would understand) and we also pretended we didn't know each other and made up ridiculous answers to the standard first date questions. I think I enjoyed the banter ust as much as the food.

On Saturday morning I woke up ridiculously early, (apperently adults can't oversleep without paying for it the next night) but had a lovely day perusing the town and losing at bowling. Saturday night we rocked up at the Dreen Road for Jakers' Birthday celebrations. It was a bit of a sausage fest, as Bert so charmingly put it, but it was a great wee night with much guitar playing, singing and merriment. Dougie found it particularly good fun to accompany the dogs in some good ol' fashioned barking.

I then woke up on Sunday afternoon at 3 O'Clock (perhaps I am still a teenager after all). After a lovely week off I relished the last few hours of Sunday lying around being lazy. And now that summer is over I'm back to working 4 days a week. The difference in my pay is barely even noticeable and the extra day off a week is much more useful. So when I woke up this morning with a small groan I reminded myself that I only had to work 2 days and then I had another 2 days off. Woo to the Hoo!

Making People Smile

Today I feel great. And not just because I'm off on holiday again. The reason I feel great is because I did something that made at least 3 people happy. When mum and I were clearing out the attic I came across a lot of old negatives. I called into work early on several mornings to scan and print them. The photos were of Bert, his mum and dad and extended family.

A lot of the photos featured a young Bert between the ages of 0-12. He seemed to have a grand old time on his farm with the hens and goats and tractor rides. They were very sweet photos. Very natural and wholesome which is something that is almost lost in today's modern photography (teenagers posing with tongues sticking out and 'Jordan pouts'). Amongst some of my favourites were Bert on his little trike, on which Pearlie had stuck on an 'L' Plate, Bert on his rocking horse, Bert and his father on the tractor, Bert hugging a hen in the lawn, Pearlie and Johnny sitting in the stacks of hay while a baby Bert played with the dog, Bert and the dog in the boot of the car. I could go on but there is just too many. The dog, although it wasn't always the same dog, featured in nearly all of the photographs. It is no wonder Bert is such a big fan.

There was a particularly lovely one with Bert in the arms of his father at the seaside. Bert is probably not even a year old and he's clutching onto his dad's tie. I got this one blown up and framed for Bert. I remember Johnny well. I, too, used to go for rides in the tractor with him. He was a kind, gentle man. Just like Bert.

I stayed at mum's last night and sat in with Pearlie while we looked at all the photos together and she told me who everyone else was. Her memory is as sharp as a tack. It was a nice way to spend time with her. And it also pleased me to know that she would get great pleasure going through them with her niece and her sister.

Work has been pretty tough lately with one thing and another but getting those negatives scanned has made me realise that the job I do makes a lot of people very happy. Selling photos is a buisness and there will always be buisness politics but I know that the people who leave our shop and show their photos to everyone are spreading much more happiness than the shops who are selling clothes. I'm sure you've never bought a pair of jeans that has put a smile on anyone else's face but your own.

Unleashing The Beast Within

My wee blog has been going for quite some time now. I'm not sure how long. Four or five years maybe. And though I have gained much happiness from it, at times, I've also found it hard. A chore. Sometimes it just wasn't in me to be funny or interesting or happy. But I never wanted my blog to become a forum for complaining. Another reason why I've found it difficult to maintain my blog is because it's not anonymous. Everything I write about I have to consider the (few) people who read it. I have censored myself so many times.

The obvious answer to this is to go create another blog, never give away my true identity, and say whatever the goddamn fXXk I want to say. I have done this three times. Each and everytime I have been pipped at the first post. I create my account (bearing in my mind that I also have to create a new email account to totally diassociate myself from this blog) and I can never rememeber my username and password combo. The last time I did it I briefly thought about writing down all my usernames and passwords so I wouldn't forget but, like every other time, I convinced myself I couldn't possibly forget. I have the same problem with my online halifax account.

So, my point is, I'm tired of censoring myself. I don't exactly have a big audience so why not say whatever the fXXk I want. And if that means posting a bit of offbeat 'poetry' then so be it. I unleash the beast within:

Tuesday came and and the promise that I'd made was broke,
The strain was too much,
What little strength I had left has faded into nothing,
The flame that flickered was blown out by a gentle gust of wind,
My eyes are not tired,
My brain is not tired,
But, oh my god, my soul is so weary.

And when my body is tired I can lie down,
When my brain is tired I can sleep.
But sometimes there is no rest,
For my soul that silently weeps.

Cruising

Those of you who read my mum's blog will have already heard all about our escapades on Tuesday evening. There were, however, a few parts that she "forgot" to mention. Like the part where she nearly had to be admitted to Hollywell with the onset of early dementia. The reason for mum ending up in such a heightened state of craziness was because she could not get her carload of extras to the right Joe Bloggs' Farm. Though mum was not playing an extra she could have stole the centre stage with her dramatics.

When we finally found our location we had the best fun, literally, rolling around in the hay. We were working with Maggie Young on her music video 52 Acres of Barley. Me and Jakers had to play young lovers so there wasn't much acting on our part really. Except for trying to get away with looking like teenagers. My friend Pepe was playing Maggie's lover and he had the pleasure of being covered in lipstick and getting his top off. It was great fun and a pleasure to be a part of it. I'm still siinging the song in my head.

On Wednesday I helped mum with a bit of soul cleansing. She was well overdue a clutter clearout and she was lacking the vital skills which makes a clutter clearout successful. The vital skills basically consist of being a ruthless, heartless bitch. Neither mum or I trusted each other in the attic alone. Mum was trying to sneak useless 'toot' by me for keeping. I was trying to sneak useless 'toot' in the chaity box without her noticing. We were both caught out eentually. But at least there were no actual fights. And though it wasn't even my stuff or my house I enjoyed it immensely because I knew how good it would make mum feel to let go of a lot of materialistic baggage.

Yesterday evening Jakers had his little girl up. She'd brought her friend around and they amused themselves with Moshi Monsters on the laptop. I brought out the flatpacked coffee table that mum had bought from Ikea several weeks ago and decided she didn't want anymore even before it was out of the packet. I took it off her hands as we lack a coffee table and they are actually pretty useful. As soon as the girls seen me taking it out they were down on the floor with me helping me to put the legs on. And later, when I sat down to do some of my glow in the dark jigsaw, they sat down to help me with that. It just goes to show that kids will entertain themselves with TV and computers but, maybe, given the choice, they'd prefer to do something more practical.

So now it's Friday evening and I managed to squeeze in a bit of time to clean my flat properly so I'm sitting here relaxing and feeling pretty chufed with myself. It's been a great week and I still have two more sleep in's but, even better than that, today I had a driving lesson and I actually drove on real roads through the outskirts of the town and home again. I was so pleased with myself that my instrutor couldn't help being excited for me. As I was thanking him he said "You know, us instructors enjoy it too". And I was by no means a perfect driver but I was still driving, And not only that, I'm finally doing something that I had put off for so long. It was like a big box that hung over my head, waiting to be ticked. I am already planning the most epic of road trips :)

I Wish I Had A Hammock

It's Monday and it's so windy it would blow you into next week. I must take shelter for it would be a terrible shame to miss my week off. Can you tell how happy I am to be on holiday?

The dentist took an X-ray of my teeth. He doesn't yet know if my toothache is due to an abcess or my teeth grinding. Either way he's going to charge me a fortune. My teeth grinding is pretty bad. Many's a morning I have woke to find Jakers lying on the sofa. I'm getting fitted with a mouth guard which will sting me £50 and I will no longer be able to suck my thumb when I'm sleeping. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

The rats are being lazy today. I'm thinking of joining them. I wish I had a hammock though.

You'll Find Me In The Dark

Woo! Hoo! I'm off work for a whole week. I'm not going anywhere but I don't think I'll have time to get bored. In fact, I suspect I may be busier than I would be in a normal week. I start the week off with a driving lesson. It's taking me a while but I don't even care. There's no point rushing myself because it wouldn't help me learn any quicker. I decided to book my self a few lessons close together though as I felt the one week gap was too long.

After that I have an appointment with the dentist. He is sure to charge me a fortune. The rest of Monday is mine though. On Tuesday I hope to join Miss Martha at the fun factory. Aunty Jayney is coming along as she adores Martha and Martha thinks Jayney is also very nice.

Also on Tuesday, weather permitting, I shall be hanging out on a farm to do cool stuff. I shall report more when it's happened. I also plan to help Nelly do a wile lotta redding out. I've told her we have to be ruthless. I think I get a little kick out of being ruthless. Only with clutter around the house though. There is something immensely satisfying about getting rid of things that lie around doing nothing.

I'm not sure what the rest of the week will hold but I'm looking forward to chilling out a bit aswell. I'm sure the rats will be lavished with plenty of attention. I'll probably go out and spend a fortune on toys for them. And, after all that, I hope I have time to do my new glow in the dark jigsaw. So, if you're looking for me, I'll be in a dark room trying to piece together the glow in the dark puzzle.

Oh What Fun We Had

Lucky Miss Martha had the pleasure of hanging out with her Auntie Katy this week. Auntie Katy lives in Norfolk so doesn't get to hang with her darling niece that often. The day started as is does most days I stay over at Nellybert's. Martha came to wake me up and brush my hair. She then had her porridge (which must be said whilst nodding her head approvingly) and after breakfast it was time to explore the great outdoors.



Martha's dolly wanted to go for a swing but she's much too little to go on a grownup swing on her own so Martha accompanied her.



After all that Martha needed a rest so she hung about on the hammock putting her feet up.



After a good rest Martha was picking berries in the tunnel where she remembered that cat's exist. She tried to cuddle Holly but she was having none of it. I reminded Martha that it was Freddy who she liked. So off we went on a big hunt for Freddy. We tried the greenhouse, Pearlie's room, all the bedrooms and the shed. Eventually he turned up under the car. Martha petted him then chased him right up the back lane.



Finally it was time for Granny and Martha to go for a wee spin on the ninky nonk train. I think this was maybe the most fun part of the day for Martha. And for Granny. And for me.



As well as all that Martha managed to fit in time to bath Dolly who was in dire need of it, eat berries, complete an obstacle course and see the 'other piggies' who she has become rather fond of. We shall not tell her that one day those piggies might be 'nunch'.

My Favourite Photo

I love this picture. I don't know why I just do. Notice the pots and pans? It was New Year and Nelly had cooked up a storm. But it wasn't the Last Supper because, as you can see, the bread and wine is there but Jesus is not. He missed a good night though.

I like the fact that it's quite ambiguous. Marty is playing an instrument but, as it's body is hidden from view, he could be playing anything. He could be playing the hairy banjo. Jakers is also preoccupied with something in his hands. He could be playing the harmonica or he could be kissing a frog to see if it turns into a handsome princess. Who knows? I also like my guitar in the corner and the feather duster hanging with the kitchen utensils.

Hannah. Up.

Oh Thank God! I just got my first driving lesson over me and it wasn't actually that bad. I think the hardest part was phoning up and booking it. Hopefully this time next year I'll have my licence under my belt and I can then concentrate on that thing people call a "career". Who knows, I might even get a job as a taxi driver.

I had a lovely day yesterday with my mum and Martha. It occurred to me that what we here from a toddler's mouth is only a tiny fraction of what's going on in their head. For example. I stayed over at mum's and was sstill lying in bed when mum brought Martha up to see me. Martha said "Hannah. Up." and "Hannah. Hair." Of course, what she really meant was: Good lord Hannah look at your bedhead, it's a total mess, and what are you still doing in bed anyway, I've been up for hours.

Another example is when Bert tpld me that Martha is a porridge purist. She never lets you put anything on her porridge. As Bert scooped oranges into his bowl he asked Martha if she wanted some. She didn't say yes and she didn't say no but she looked at Bert as if to say: You ask me this every week Bert. You know I don't want stuff on my porridge.

But because she didn't say no Bert put one tiny segment of orange onto her plate which she looked at disdainfully. She then spooned out the orange, held it up to me and said "Hannah. Try." She is one cute cookie. And the orange was very nice. I don't know why Martha doesn't like them on her porridge.

A Sweet Sweet Song

This doesn't happen very often anymore:



I wish I could buy that tree over there,
And from it, I'd hang up a swing,
And my mum, she could sit,
While I play my guitar,
And the tree, a sweet song she would sing.

And the song that she sings,
With her roots in the soil,
Is a comfort to all that can hear,
And my mum swings along, to the sweet, sweet song,
And whispers "I love you, my dear".

A Bite Of Every One

Martha has learnt how to say Hannah. She still likes to call me Ha though. I missed her when she was on her holidays. Mum, Ben, Martha and I all met up with a few members of the clan (the Byrne clan, that is, not the KKK). It was a lovely day and it was also my dad's birthday. Happy Birthday Dad! It would have been my Granny's birthday too so it was nice to do something as a family.

Dirt Bird was home and, as always, it was a pleasure catching up with her. She was here for her brother's wedding. Her brother was marrying a girl from Slovakia and all the guests were given a box of Slovakian cakes and pastries to take home. When I eventually did get home I was craving a little sugar so I opened my box of Slovakian delights. I was so so eager to sample all the different varieties that I couldn't space it out over a few days so I took a single bite out of each one. The next morning Jakers wanted to try a bun. Then I had to tell him that I had, pretty much, just spoiled whole box of buns. Sorry babe.

Young Ben has been hanging out on the farm at Nellybert's. Young Ben who is wise beyond his years. On the 12th night BBQ Ben was mighty impressed with Wee Dill's guitar playing skills. He came out and said to Wee Dill's housemate Dr. D. "That guy's amazing at the guitar but he just has to believe it himself" But then I am reminded of his youth when he tells me that he was talking to Dirt Bird's mum, who's a teacher at his school. He asked if she knew Dirt Bird. Dirt Bird's mum said no and asked who this Dirt Bird was, to which Ben replied "Is she not your daughter?"

Rocky has been sporting a bad foot. The vet's given him medicine which he lapped up with milk, he's content enough to lie snoozing in his hammockand Pepe's pretty pissed off that he's getting special treatment. But she is being quite considerate by letting him have the hammock to himself. For now. And we'll have to keep them separated when we can't keep an eye on them. The vet said he was a good boy though. I really hope Pepe never has call to go to the vet 'cause I think she'd be a nightmare.

Gone With The Wine

So Amy Winehouse has finally croked it. That sounds awful, I know, but that's my reaction because it was only a matter of time. I don't think anyone is surprised and that's sad. It's sad that she's dead, obviously, but it's also sad that we almost expected it. I think if the bookies were taking money more people would have bet she would die before she would make a new record.

And I don't get it. It's not like she's the first rock or pop star to die, or even die from drink and drug overdose. But most of the other famous causualties actually had a career for longer than a few years. It just all happened so quick. She shot to fame, she lived the lifestyle, she went too far, she descended into a dark, seedy world where she no longer had control. I can't help but blame the media. I think they grind people down to nothing. And the reason why Kurt Cobain, Jim Morrison and Sid Vicious left a legacy behind is because they stayed wise enough and straight enough to put in the time and make good music for longer. My point is, there was no reason why Amy Winehouse couldn't have sorted herself out, worked on her career again and make a massive comeback. There was talent there in the first place and that never leaves you. The girl had a great voice and the soul behind it to carry her. But for her it was easier to get wasted than have to live up to people's expectations.

Anyway, all that aside, she was a human being, someone's daughter, someone's friend. You don't get to my age and not know someone who's died through drugs. Thankfully, nobody ever close to me but it's always sad. And I just think of all the people who really knew Amy and how they must feel.

Rocky Speaks Out

Work has been a nightmare this week. They say never work with anilmals or children but anyone who says that doesn't work with technology. My job depends on computers and printers. When they don't play ball it causes endless problems. But, I'm off today. Except that I'm not really off because I'm volunteering with my youth group. Lately I've had an overwhleming urge to climb a mountain. Today we are going orienteering which is the next best thing to climbing a mountain. When I told my boss this he said, "Please don't get lost Hannah, we need you on Friday". Either he hasn't a lot of faith in my orienteering skills (not sure I can blame him) or he thinks life is a movie because anyone who goes on such expeditions in a movie is bound to get in a spot of bother. Personally, I don't mind if I get lost. It may be preferable to going back to work. I just hope I don't run into any bears. Ireland is hotching with bears. Ask Nelly.

Anyway, Rocky was a bit raging that Pepe got to post on my blog and he wants a wee turn at it so here is, Rocky the Rock Star:

Hi everyone,

I know you've heard a lot about me but that was from Hannah's point of view and she doesn't speak Rat and I think she's waaaaay off the mark. Firstly, I am not stupid I am just bone idle. Yes, I like to stuff my face and, yes I like to sleep for hours in my hammock while Pepe runs around like a mental skittish bitch (hope I don't get into trouble for calling Pepe a bitch)but it was them who insisted on getting my balls chopped so now my only pleasures in life are sleeping and eating. Having said that though, I do so love to get out a wee scoot. Hannah and Jakers let us 'free range' round the living room, and though it'ss only a wee living room to them, it's practically a whole country for us. I love jumping up on the window sill and looking out over the universe. I also like to have a wee nibble at the Parrot plant they keep there. Well, that's all for now, I just wanted to set the record straight that I am not a dumbass. I'm actually quite sensitive.

What Girls Get Up To

Inspiration has been thin on the ground just lately. I find when your busy doing stuff there's no time to think about interesting tings to write about. And I have been a busy girl, what with the alternative 12th BBQ and general summer merriment.

I stayed over at my friends last night to keep her company while her parents are on holiday. Her cousin informed us of a ceriain internet phenomenom called Chat Roulette. Well, it involves switching your web cam on and chatting (or otherwise) to someone half way across the world. If you don't want to chat you hit a button and you see someone else who you may want to chat (or otherwise) to. Obviously it's a total breeding ground for exhibitionists wanting to show off their assets in the hope of enticing someone to do a little more than just chat. I guess that's where the roulette part comes in because every time you hit the button you don't know if your gonna be staring at someone's face or someone's assets. Needless to say, we are innocent girlies and we did a lot of shrieking. We also sang Danny Boy to some Jamaican lads.

Spoilt Ratten

We got a new sofa yesterday and I can't beelieve how good it is. The rats can finally go free range (and hopefully start laying some eggs). When they escaped it was a nightmare getting them back because the old sofa had holes in it which Pepe liked to climb through and hide. Attempts to retrieve her often resulted in a fierce bite.

The new sofa has no holes and all we had to do was barricade the TV so they couldn't hide in Wire City and they were able to run loose. I realise that having a couple of rats running round your living room doesn't appeal to everyone but domestic rats are very clean animals and will hold their poohs and pees in til they get back to their cage. Also, it fills my heart with glee to hear the pitter patter of their feet as they scuttle about.

Up til now we have let them roam on the sofa. They crawl all over us, using our shoulders to jump to the top of the sofa where they like to snuggle when they get bored. And that's the thing, they do get bored and need lots of things to keep them entertained. It's Saturday night and I reckoned watching the rats run about the room was a much more worthwhile pursuit than going out and getting blocked.

We thought it might be hard getting Pepe back into the cage again but she didn't put up a fight and she was rewarded with a nice bit of cheese. Rocky never gives us any bother so he got cheese too. They actually looked like happier rats after their little taste of freedom. And we were happy and proud that it was such a success. I said to Jakers "See, we're good parents after all."

It's been a Rocky road at times but now I know that those rats have all they could ever wish for, and more.

Pepe's Post

I didn't realise it but tonight was my last night volunteering until September. It'll be nice to have a break for a few months but, now that I have a spare evening free every week, I think I should use it as an opportunity to start driving lessons. To be honest, the thought repulses me but I am only putting off the inevitable.

But.....someone else has something to say. It's Pepe the rat:

Hey there,

Well, Hannah thought that Rocky would be the first to guest blog but he hasn't learnt to read or write yet 'cos he's a thicko. I think the fat has clogged up his arteries and the blood doesn't flow to his brain so good. I used to have lots of adventures round the flat. One of my favourite places was behind the TV where all the wires were. I never nibbled them. I waited until Hannah or Jakers put their hands in and nibbled them instead. Except, they didn't like me nibbling them and always shouted at me. I don't get out and about as much these days since me and Rocky got the new cage. I do like it. I especially like the soft flannel hammock. Sometimes me and Rocky just lie in there all day long. I'm not sure what I make of Hannah and Jakers. They're ok sometimes and give me bits of ham or cheese or fruit but sometimes I just want to bite them, just for the hell of it. And sometimes I have a good scrap with Rocky. Ok, that's all for now, I'm ready for a nice big snooze in the hammock. Cheerio

Summer At Last

Today it actually felt like summer. The sun shone bright with only a ight breeze in the air. I woke up late but not too late. I drank coffee 'til I was sufficiently alert. I hung washing and washed dishes. We went out for a dander round the town. Bumped into Pepe Le Pew and his girlfriend who is not a black cat with a stripe down her back. We stopped off for a pint of interesting cider. Jakers' cider was interesting because it was alcohol free. Mine was interesting because it wasn't Magners or Strongbow.

We also took a walk to look at a new prospective house. It looks lovely and if I could wish for anything right now it would be to have that house. This depends on the rent being affordable and the landlord choosing us over anyone else interested in it. But, as with everything, if it's meant to be it will be. I hope it is.

Granny's Stew

Remember the job I applied for a while back. Well it turns out that failing to mention that I do voluntary work didn't really matter as I got home from work yesterday to find the application form sent back to me because I hadn't paid enough postage. It was 12p. 12p for fuck sakes. The best of it is, Dirt Bird sent me a letter and it didn't have enough postage paid but they sent it to me anyway. And what use is it returning a letter to the sender 6 bloody weeks after they've sent it. Complete and utter incompentence on Royal Mail's behalf. I refuse to take responsibility for not putting another 12p stamp on the envelope.

As annoying as it is I didn't have much faith in getting the job anyway and I just take it all as a sign that it wasn't meant to be. Ho well.

I've been staying at Nellybert's once a week. This is mutually beneficial as I'm pretty sure that mum and Bert like having me around and I get to have yummy dinners like Granny Stew (basically Irish stew but always tastes better when cooked by a Granny). Another perk for me is getting to cuddle with Harry and Judy. Judy climbs into bed with in the middle of the night and I wake up with her underneath the blankets. She wakes up with me in the morning, hangs about 'til I leave for work and then runs upstairs to mum's bed for more cuds and snugs.

I've been living in the town for a good while now and have forgotten the ways of the countryside. I was outside when I saw a strange small object on the ground. I picked it up and it was hard and slightly curved like a small banana. I inspected it closely and wondered if it was a claw from some kind of sea creature. Then I saw the indistinguishable marks and squealed as I realised I had picked up a hard, dry, dead slug. Yuck!

Dinner By Willy

Last night was a great wee night. I had a hot date with Jakers. We went for a romantic meal at Whetherspoons. Obviously Whetherspoons is the least romantic place to go for a meal but it's where I wanted to go because they serve interesting cider. After our bite to eat (which, unsurprisingly, was rank)we headed over to the Fairhill bar where there was a folk gig on for charity.

Jakers and I made a donation and were entered into a raffle. I said to him, "We're gonna win something, I know we are." And we did. We won a meal for two, cooked by a fella Willy, who is, apparently, an amazing chef. He sat down to discuss what we'd like on the menu. I said chicken and his face fell. Chicken wasn't exciting enough. When I said fish, his face lit up. We were told by others that we were in for a treat.

It would have been a great night even if we hadn't won anything but it was definitely the icing on the cake. And we have a delicious meal to look forward to. Though I'm not a big fan of fish so I hope he really is as amazing as everyone says.

Phantom Tooth Ache

Today I feel weird and a bit queasy. Yesterday I felt numb. But not too numb to not want Irish stew. I think I wanted Irish stew because it reminds me of my granny and I needed a bit of comfort. I have had an awful cold and I've had toothache where there are no teeth. I've heard of people getting phantom pains after a limb has been amputated. A quick google search lead me to the conclusion that the pain was referral from my sore, infected sinuses. Also, this morning, something slipped down the back of my throat and it felt kinda like a small chunk of my brain.

Today is the first day of my life. My new life. The one that will be good and happy and niiice. I have decided that and it's up to no one else but me. I may feel a bit weird and queasy but it's better than feeling numb.

When My Teeth Go Green

A few weeks ago I ordered some sweets off the internet. You might think this is a silly thing to do considering I can buy sweets in practically every shop I go to. But I'm 29, I've eaten a lot of sweets and I like to spice things up a bit by trying a few different things that can only acquired via the world wide web. The best bit was, by the time the sweets finally arrived, I'd forgotten what I'd ordered.

I got home this evening to find a note from the post man saying they'd tried to deliver a parcel but it was too big for the letterbox. They normally take it back down to the delivery office where you have to pick it up in person but this time the postman left it with our 'designated neighbour'. We don't have a designated neighbour and I was quite concerned that Mr. M. in 50A was chowing down on my sweets. He didn't though. He called round with the parcel earlier and I opened up, literally, a box of delights. Like I say, I'd totally forgotten what I'd ordered. So now I have a big box of sweets consisting of; red and black beaded berries, rose and lemon turkish delight, raspberry flavoured vampire teeth (a personal favourite), violet bud boiled sweets, banana and mango boiled sweets and a bag of strawberry flavoured tongues. It's all about appreciating the small things in life.....and having enough money in the bank to pay the dentist when my teeth go green.

Our First Date

I was off on Monday and had energy for nothing. It wasn't even like I'd had a wild weekend and was still suffering. I just felt really lethargic. So on Tuesday I went to work heavy headed and dreading the extra 3 hours voluntary work that I had in the evening. It ended up being great though. I had acupuncture for the first time and it was bliss. It helped that I was relaxing on a massaging chair as well. So I slept like a baby on tuesday night. On Wednesday evening I went to a spin class. This involves 45 minutes on an excercise bike pedalling like a maniac. It's pretty hardcore at the time but I felt really good after.

Tonight Jakers was teaching me how to box. I enjoyed that too but then he decided he was gonna put me through my paces with a few press ups and squats. He pushed me til I could take no more which I knew he would and that's why I never agree to ecercise with him. We went out for dinner at the weekend and it was, pretty much, our first date. We've never been out for a meal as a couple. We went out to the new Indian restaurant and our waitress had just started that night. She was sweet and I'm not really used to tipping but we left her one so that the boss knew she was doing a good job.

My Eyes Are Dull

Hahahah this made me laugh a lot. I was thinking that my eyes aren't as bright an twinkly looking as they should be so I typed "my eyes are dull" into google thinking it would lead me to some health food sites telling me which vitamins are good for sparkly eyes. Instead I found this. Seemingly Catholics all round the world are right and masturbation is bad for you.

Rat Bite Fever

This whole week I've been unable to finish anything that I've started to write. I've just deleted a post about Pepe biting me this morning. But then I realised that all I really needed to say was; Pepe broke out, I tried to catch her, she bit me pretty badly, I was cross but now I feel sorry for her. There was also the email that never got sent and the letter I wrote to my friend that I gave up on. I will write to my friend but I'll start a new letter. And I will send that email, when the time is right.

Today was a mixture of loveliness, annoyance (rat bite), physical activity, and paranoia (will I get rat bite fever?). I had a lovely time with Miss Martha pushing her about in her car and looking through the box of farm animal figurines. There's a figurine of a woman in dungarees carrying a bucket of eggs who Martha liked to call 'Mummy' and there's another woman, dressed in a blue mini skirt and knee high black boots and she was, naturally, christened 'Ha'. God knows why though because Martha has never, and will never, see me dressed in a blue mini skirt and knee high black boots.

Big Guns

Rocky Minding Pepe, a photo by hootchinhannah on Flickr.

Between the heavy presence of police out to deal with the bomb scare on Wednesday, and the meeting of a seriously massive body builder you could say that I've seen a lot of big guns this week.

There's Rocky minding Pepe there and he too, like his namesake, has big guns. Though they're mostly fatty guns as opposed to muscly guns. I was looking online to see if I can get them harnesses and leads. Jakers doesn't approve though as the only decent ones we can find are pink and there's no way he's dressing his boy rat in pink. Says it's bad enough he's got no balls.

Perhaps I Should Have Mentioned....

I really am a bit of an eejit. I've applied for a new job in the caring profession, working with kids, and I clean forgot to mention on the form that I do voluntary work, with kids. I'm really quite annoyed with myself as, after all, one of the main reasons for volunteering was to help me get a job more suited to what I've studied. Anyway, that aside, I wasn't holding out for the job. I know the score by now. Quite often they already have someone lined up for the job but they have to go through all the necessary procedures. What will be will be and at least I like the job I'm in already.

Today was a good day in work. No bomb scares (yesterday we were evacuated for nearly 2 hours because of a hoax call) which is always a plus, though we did have a biker guy ask if he could leave his jacket and helmet in the shop for 10 minutes, which, really we probably shouldn't have. But we'd also just taken his photo for a passport so we figured he wouldn't be leaving any bombs as we had photographic evidence of what he looked like.

Also, two of my favouritist customers were in and one brought me maltesers (cos she knows they're my favourite), and the other brought in her big body builder son who, apparently, I was flirting with. I don't even like muscly men.

Robbed

I just woke up about 10 minutes ago and went about my usual morning buisness; took the lid off the rats tank, replaced their bowls with fresh water and food, made coffee, sat down for a smoke, truned the lapton on, checked emails. Then I looked at the time. 14:58. How in the hell did I manae to sleep 'til that time? That's 15 hours sleep! My one day off this weekend was spent sleeping. I feel robbed!

Because I'm Worth It

Today was lovely. I woke up early and surfed the net and drank coffee. I had a bath and drank more coffee. Then I went to town and bought myself expensive face cream. L'Oreal: Because I'm worth it.

I bought Jakers lunch and took it into his work. His lunch consisted of a burger in a pastie and a pink iced bun. I went home. I surfed the net and drank tea. I prepared a batter mix for Staffordshire oatcakes. I left it to sit. I washed dishes and cleaned floors.

Mum called and we went for coffee. I had a cinnamon and apple scone. I came home. I kissed Jakers and cooked up my oatcakes. I wasted about a third of my batter mix before I came anywhere close to getting something that resembled an oatcake. By the time I had finished I had perfected the technique. I left the oatcakes to cool. I kissed Jakers and headed out to my voluntary work.

Some of the kids wanted to do music and were disappointed I hadn't brought guitars. I called Jakers and asked him if he would meet me halfway with the guitars. Boys got guitars and were happy. A somewhat productive music session occurred.

Got home at 9. Positive reports on the oatcakes. Tried some myself and was pretty chuffed that they tasted like they were meant to. Promised Nelly I'd throw some her way but, since I ruined half the mix and discovered that Jakers is a big fan of the Stafforshire oatake, I might have to make her wait 'til the next batch is made.

Dog Frisbee

When I go back home to visit Nellybert Judy Dog is always super pleased to see me. She loves me y'see. Though she is a bit of a floozie and a tart as she has a major soft spot for Young Loveheart aswell. According to Bert it would 'sicken ye' the love and adoration Judy bestows upon Young Loveheart when he's visiting. A few weeks ago I was informed by mum and Bert that, should they both be kllled in a freak accident, Judy would go to ilve with Loveheart. Well. I. Never!

The rage! The pure shock and disgust I felt at learnng that I would not be Judy's next of kin. Over my dead body says I. So last week was the first time that myself, Young Loveheart and Judy were in the same room. He called Judy over. She ran to him like a big wet blanket and cuddled into his chest. Wee bitch. So I called her over. She ran to me without even so much as a backward glance at Loveheart. Score! She's my dog, she loves me. She loved me dearly until she was called away again to cuddle with the enemy. We played dog frisbee for a while until even my sister Katy said that Judy should go live with Loveheart. Betrayed by my own flesh and blood. Not once, not twice but thrice.

I threatened to take Loveheart to court over the custody of Judy and he promised me I could have visiting rights. But this is just all wrong. I was living at home when Judy was a tiny pup. I cuddled her, sang to her, bought her dog toys and nurtured her. And I bet she has never even licked Loveheart's toes. She's licked mine.

How Can That Be?

It's not often that me and Jakers have intellectual conversations but this is one we had the other day. It started with me reading his t.shirt that he got for taking part in the marathon. It read: The Belfast Marathon's 30th Year 1982-2011.

Me: How can it it be the Belfast Marathon's 30th Year?

Jakes: I know, i thought that?

Me: Because it's 1982-2011, that can't be 30 years.

Jakes: I know.

Me: Because we were born in 1982 and we're not 30 'til next year?

Jakes: I know, that's what I thought.

Me: And for it to be 30 years it would have to end in an even number and 2011 is an
odd number.

Jakes: I know.

Me: And it would have to end in the number 2!

Jakes: I know.

Then I proceeded to count (on my fingers) from 1982 to 2011 and, sure enough, it was 30 years. This fries my head a wee bit.

But anyway, the point of this story is to congratulate Jakers in his participation of this year's (the 30th year) Belfast marathon. Well done baby! He had sore knees but the rats kissed them better.

When You're Washing Up

This is an excerpt from Paulo Coelho's The Witch Of Portobello:

"When you're washing up, pray. be thankful there are plates to be washed; that means there was food, that you fed someone, that you've lavished care on one or more people, that you cooked and laid the table. Imagine the millions of people at this moment who have absolutely nothing to wash up and no one for whom to lay the table"

Lost

Usually, I'm not too bad at expressing my emotions through words but, now, I just can't seem to find the right ones. All I know is that I feel sad and however sad I feel I know that this must be ten fold for my mum and her brothers and sisters.