When a Plan Comes Together

It's been a helluva week, one thing and another. Because Dave loves me more than life itself, he felt he had to give me his lovely cold. We're having a chat later on about appropriate gifts (chocolates, flowers, sparkly things) later on.

It kicked in, with a sore throat that felt like Mike Tyson used and abused me and as a finishing touch, force fed me razor blades. Honestly, I felt wretched. I crawled into work on Wednesday and managed half a day before I crawled back home again. Of course, the cold loves me so much, it's moved into my sinuses. Deep joy.

And then there was the waiting for results. As you know, four months ago, I put my Plan for World Domination into place and began renovating my flat for me to move into and fixing up the house to rent out. You know how much I've enjoyed that process. Not. We moved a month ago. It's been very clear when we started piling stuff into Boy's room that his boyhood bedroom couldn't cope with him as a man. We've just about managed to squeeze his furniture in there with him and thanks to a friend at work - a single bed. I swear that room shrank when we moved out. He can't use his space as he would really like. It's just not big enough. No girlfriends overnight, no friends bunking on the floor, it's not really even big enough for him to sprawl out and chillax in.

Results day loomed and we were very, very nervous. If he didn't get into Lincoln University, he didn't have any standbys, he just knew that was the course, that was the place he wanted to be.

Yesterday, he got himself off to college bright and early to get his results and to check the system. He rang me at 8.20 to say he'd been accepted to do a BA in Advertising in Marketing! 

YAAAAAAAAAY!!!

I couldn't figure out whether they were tears of joy, relief or sorrow that he would be leaving me. The fact of the matter is: my Boy done good. He's all set. 

Now, it's just a question of getting him set up properly. I've ordered him a laptop. He'll be able to sort out student software etc, once he starts the course in September. We've got to get him bedding and pans. 

I'm so proud of him Ladies and Gentlemen. He did it!

End of an Era

Ladies and Gentlemen, today is the day when it all starts to change. When everything I've been worrying about starts to happen. 

Today was Boy's last ever day at college. He will be taking his exams in the next few weeks and is then off to university. My baby is all growed up. 

His first school photo

Being all cute and innocent in Trinidad

Both of us hiding the incriminating cigarettes behind our backs. Yes, he was legal age

And more recently

The thing is I love him to bits for just being Boy. He makes me laugh. We like hanging out together. I'm not a traditional parent and he's an awesome son. 

I haven't done the school run for years. He's always been incredibly independent-minded and wanted to take himself off to school as soon as he possibly could. Today, it was absolutely chucking it down and as it was his last day, it felt right.

I'm glad I did. He went off to college, I went and celebrated with coffee and cake at The Window and later on we shared a heated debate on Facebook with other people from across the water about tattoos.

My baby is all growed up and I iz very proud of him. 

*proud mama smile* 

The Mish Mash of Life, the Universe etc...

Well, it's definitely turning to Winter. And I've pretty much pulled up the drawbridge and am ready to hibernate. Probably why I'm not blogging so much...though I'm usually lurking on Facebook, twitter etc.

Life is what it is, wintery, bit grey, good bits...

I will confess to having a bit of trouble with the fact that in 10 days time, Boy will be 18 years old! 18 years old! How the fuck did that happen? Eighteen years ago, I was married, living in Fakenham, waiting impatiently for his arrival. Eighteen years later, he's got a part-time job, a girl friend and is in college doing his A-levels. He's gone from bump to this fine young man, for whom I just feel this immense maternal love and pride.Bless him, he's being patient with me. I've been giving him loads of cuddles, hugs and generally checking him out.  I just can't get my head around it. Honestly, my heart hurts sometimes at the immensity, the wonder, the love and joy of him.

So much has changed in that time. It would be tempting to say, so much is still the same. But I wonder now if that's true. Looking ahead into the future, I wonder what Life will be like. Will he have a family, a career, be living near or far from me? I look forward to seeing him, a man, a husband, a father. One thing that won't change, he'll still be my baby. I think he's resigned himself to it. I might be knocking on 59, and he'll be 36 and I'm pretty sure he's still going to be my Boy.

Co-Existing with Other Species

The Palais de Roses is an interesting place to be. You know from your visits here that I have a plethora of new house plants and The Cat and The Boy and a bunch of frogs I've kissed and refused to turn into Princes. Yes, I know Boy is now much taller than me and he's looking forward to his 17th birthday and driving lessons, but he's still The Boy to me, and I suspect he always will be.

But The Boy comes with added extras: friends.

There's his best friend, who quite frankly for all intents and purposes lives here. My couch is his bed most nights. He's so at home here, he puts away the groceries, does my dishes and doesn't mind being roped into gardening duties.

It's not unusual for me to go to bed and there are 2 teenagers stretched out on the floor killing things enthusiastically on the XBox. When I stagger down in the morning looking for my dose of Eine, there can be 4 or 5 bodies snoring gently in my front room.

It's not unusual when I cook, for me to prepare enough food for a few days. Or at least there was when I went to bed. In the morning, the pot is empty. Apparently, they like my cooking. Now when I do the shopping I make sure I get enough snacks in to feed a small army. Let me tell you, 3 or 4 teenagers eat enough for a small army. I'd go as far as to say a Plague of Locusts is nothing compared with a couple of hungry teenagers. They'll go through everything immediately edible and if it's not, they'll get the pots and pans out.

I like da yoof of today. They are lively and fun. They are apologetic if they've got too excited whilst killing things on the XBox and then face the grumpiness of me at 4 am. They'll cheerfully clear off, if I tell them I need some space and come back when I'm sociable. They ask me how my day has been, and tell me all about theirs and the latest encounters with chavs. We have indepth conversations on the meaning of life. I find them generous and caring, behind all the teenager speak. They'll spend hours on the phone with each other. They are loyal to a fault.

These are precious days.

In a few years, these teenagers will be adults. They'll be going off to university, getting jobs, travelling round the world, getting married, having children. That they choose to spend their time here on my living room floor, is just amazing. They fill my house with laughter and fun. I hope in the years to come that that we won't lose track of each other. That they'll continue to visit. Hopefully, with partners and then children.

Pride!

It was a late Sunday evening in February, when Boy came back from his dad's. I was sprawled on the couch and Boy came and sat next to me.

Our conversation started out as the one every mother dreads.

"You will still love me, won't you?" He started.

"Of course I love you." Says I with a sinking heart.

"I mean, you'll love me, whatever..." his voice trailed off.

Oh dear Goddess, thought I. Take a deep breath and face the disaster.

"I mean, you will..."

"Boy, it's late. You have school in the morning, I have to go to work. Spit it out!"

"I'm gay." He says in a small voice.

"Oh, is that all," I say, relief pouring through me. "I thought you were going to say something awful."

My Boy. My wonderful, bright Boy.

It's a feeling words do not adequately express. I am so proud of him. It has taken awhile to post about this, because it's such a personal thing. We have talked about the fluidity of sexuality at this age and that he may change in the future. At the end of the day, it's who he is, and all that matters is how much I love him and how proud I am of him.

Could I have been more proud when he marched with the Norwich Pride this summer? No, I really don't think so.

Pretending to be heterosexual would have been the easiest course for him. But no. My Boy has the courage to be himself. There are adults of my age who deny themselves and I am saddened for them.

This is a new world for us both. I don't have the gay best friend to guide us, and actually that's fine. The Norwich Pride has welcomed us both. It's meant I've had a lot to adjust to, after all, but it's all good. This is probably the best time in this society to be gay. What has been amazing is the support of our friends and family. His dad loves him to bits.

It is such a shame that coming out is such a heartbreaking experience for so many people. This is a wonderful world in which we live and there should be enough space for everyone. There has been so much I've taken for granted. For me to walk down the street, holding hands with the one I love. I can't imagine what it must be like, not to be able to express my love.

In a way it's quite ironic. I am now the black sheep of my family. The marginalised. My birth mother is gay, my son is gay. I'm the only heterosexual. Ach, the shame!

This Time 15 Years Ago

Boy couldn't sleep this morning and the squeak of the cupboard woke me up. Despite my life-long hatred of 6 am, I got up and sang Happy Birthday, much to his bemusement.

As I write this my clock says 06:49. This time 15 years ago I was exhausted and labouring to expel him from my body (too much information? it's my blog, I can over-share if I want to). I still have trouble believing that tiny, grizzling bundle is now this long and lanky teenager.

I still spend too much time worrying about him. The modern world is a scary place, but I trust he is learning to negotiate it well. More importantly, I still get unsolicited hugs. When we spend time together it tends to be relaxed and we laugh a lot.

I think my neighbour downstairs will be wanting to move out soon, I bought Boy an electric guitar including the amp and 'thank god' headphones. Boy is busy looking on-line for chords and it won't be long before 'My Dog Has Fleas' turns to 'We will Rock You'.

Will I live to regret it? Probably. Would I have it any other way? Nope.

Slipping Away

I find it difficult to believe that 2 weeks ago I was at work, looking forward to my two weeks off. Don't ask me where the time has gone, because I sure as hell don't know.

My weeks' holiday was spent pretty much on my sofa catching up with a huge pile of reading. I finally got round to reading Virgin Suicides after much nagging from The Viking. Yes, it was very well written, and I did like the clever bits he did with the retrospective multiple narrator. Would I pick it up again in a hurry? No, not really. I did feel it was so incredibly sad.

I also spent most of my time nagging Boy. He starts his SATs next week. After much lecturing he sat down to revise. I was somewhat surprised that his teachers had not gone through revision or exam tactics with him. So I invested in some revision guides and went through the basics of revision. I am trying not to nag him about the revision. If he wants to be a vet, then he's going to have to work bloody hard. If he doesn't put in the work, then he'll have to think of something else. Me nagging him, isn't going to help. I keep telling myself that. Hasn't been working though. But I keep trying.

The Viking and his dad came visiting on their way back from Sweden last weekend. On Saturday morning we ambled into town and I became a bit concerned about Dad. He looked a touch confused and seemed to be struggling a bit. When we finally found a free table in a cafe, he admitted that he didn't feel up to the walk home. My alarm bells went off. This is a man who runs marathons, flies gliders and is building a conservatory from scratch. The Viking and Boy went home to get the car, I rang my surgery and got an automated message advising me to ring NHS Direct. I didn't particularly want to take him to A & E without a bloody good reason, but I did not want to wait for the Call Back from NHS Direct. Then I remembered, we've got a Walk-In Centre. I strongly advised that course of action to Viking and Dad and they agreed it would be a good idea for him to be checked out there. We didn't wait very long in the waiting room before Dad came back clutching a large brown envelope saying A & E.

I've not been to the A & E in the new hospital, so that was a bit of an experience. The staff were brilliant, got him into a cubicle and hooked up to the ECG pdq. And there we stayed. I didn't think to check my watch and see if we made the 4 hour deadline. But to cut a long and stressful story short, they wanted to keep him in for observation and to do more blood tests. So he went up to the ward and we went off to pack a bag for him and to get something to eat. That's when the fun and games started. When we got there, they'd moved him to another ward and it was on visitor lock-down, thanks to the Norovirus. We weren't supposed to visit him at all. Thankfully, the staff let us take him his bag and settle him in properly. He'd made friends with the other gentlemen on the ward, who of a similar age and when we left they were having a lively debate about the football results (Championship - will Hull go up and Premiership). The staff weren't sure that they discharge him on Sunday, the doctor's were considering doing more tests. Since I had to be in London during the week and The Viking had to be back at work, leaving Dad in a strange city by himself, we were hoping he'd be well enough to go home again.

This is a happy ending. Dad is back home oop North and according to the Viking is back to normal. It's funny, but at throughout it all I had the comforting presence of Mousie and Tom in the back of my mind. I knew that Dad would get the best of care. And he did.

My week in London was packed as I was trained to be Super Orange Woman. I now have had the basic product training so when I get back on counter no longer will I have to look to my Counter Manager to fill in the gaps. I'll have further training in the selling techniques to show me the best way to part women from their hard-earned cash. It hasn't really changed how I view the PCH, or their products. What was a bit shocking was the basic science behind the skin and how it ages - and the damage caused by the sun and sunbeds.

Of everything I've learnt this week, that has been had the greatest impact. I'm sure I've said that every now and then I've gone along and had a quick blast on a sunbed, to warm up and get a touch of colour in my skin. I'm by no means brown, it just keeps me from looking like a ghost or a vampire-wannabe. What I didn't realise is that the damage doesn't appear straight away, it takes about 20-30 years for it to work it's way up to the surface of the skin. It's scary. Really scary. I'm going invest in several bottles of self-tan - which in a way is just as scary as melanoma. I'm turning into Super Orange Woman!

How to Waste Time by a Professional Procrastinator

I have acquired two new obsessions. They manage to eat away quite a lot of my time, which, considering the stuff that I really should be getting on with, is a bit silly. Boy and I sat down and wrote the To Do List which has 17 items, which I must do before Saturday. The items vary between Very Important and Urgent and so far today I've done 1 thing. I really can Procrastinate for England, it is slightly ridiculous.

A few weeks ago, Boy bought Oblivion for his XBox 360. It's a fantasy role-playing game. It's stunning. I'm a dark-elf, encased in armour wandering around Cyrodiil, a province of Tamriel doing quests. I get to beat people up, explore caves, go swimming with slaughter-fish, ride a dappled horse, swing my sword around, gamble, drink and generally create mayhem. I have been tasked with saving the heir to Tamriel, but quite frankly with everything else I've got going on at the moment, I'm procrastinating that quest too. OMG, I procrastinate virtually as well!

Unfortunately, Boy has bought the Transformers game today. Humpf. Up until today, I could interrupt his game, have a go on Oblivion for an hour or so, and then we'd just swap around. Now I have to beg, plead, cajole and threaten. Double humpf.

I was thinking back on last summer and how much I was worrying about my baby growing up. It's funny, I look across at my Boy and I see a young man now. This year he left his childhood behind and entered with confidence the world of a teenager, a far more dangerous and scary place. He's settled into high school and works hard, he avoids trouble and seems to have good, positive friendships. I see the man to come and am exceptionally proud. His sense of humour is so dry and sarcastic; he just creases me up; I really enjoy his company.

I've also discovered the joys of Facebook. I know people have said that all kinds of nasties can creep out of the woodwork, but I've found myself to be nasty-free. Besides, you don't have to accept people you don't want. It's got these really fun applications that you can add to your page at the moment I've been wasting time with the iLike application. I've been loading up clips and videos of my favourite music and making soppy dedications to my Viking. It just eats time. But it's so much fun. By the way, if you want to be my virtual friend, drop me an e-mail and I'll add you. I'll buy you virtual beer, fish for your acquarium, flowers for your garden and we can compare music tastes. Just think, we can procrastinate together.

Been Awhile

Apologies for the long silence. I've been oop North with the Viking and his family and there was much running about upon my return. Unfortunately, due to his generous nature, I've now got a cold, so all running aroung has now stopped as I indulge in feeling bleugh.

The good thing is that I've had a chance to read and review a book. I've popped my thoughts on the subject on my sister site. It's the first time I've done a book review and I'd appreciate the feedback. Also, if you've read something recently, brilliant or dire, feel free to do the same.

Boy has come back from his dad's early. His grandad did some serious injury to his tendon, so much so that he's needed an op. Boy was just on the phone to him, and he's on the mend. Or will be as long as he keeps off the leg.

One of the things I'm discovering about my Boy, is that he has patience. Obvioulsy, he's needed this virtue when dealing with me and my dramas. Over the Spring, both he and my Viking have been bonding over Transformers. They've been eagerly downloading, watching trailers, going ooo and aaahhh and debating over plot, character etc. They bought tickets to go and see the preview showing for the day after Alix's wedding. Please note, they didn't buy me one, but graciously said that I could come along if I wanted and was quiet.

Unfortunately, both Boy and I had forgotten that the ExH was picking him up stupid o'clock Sunday morning to take him to the Holkham Game Fair. Obviously time with the ExH is sacrosanct and he had to go. Apparently that's when his grandad wrecked his leg trying to push a car out of the mud. Boy said the fair wasn't up to much being soggy, expensive and same old mix of country clothing stalls, displays and food sold from caravans. When he came back, the movie was not playing yet and he had to wait a week before general release. I did go see it with Viking and I'm under the threat of pain of death to reveal nothing. We arranged to try again at an early showing Friday morning. As we were just about to leave the house ExH rings and asks to come over. Grandad has been admitted to A&E for his leg, can he come over and wait at ours: which meant no Transformers.

Boy turned up unexpectedly on Wednesday and unfortunately, I've come down with a nasty bug thing and quite frankly, if I'm not well enough to go to work, I'm not well enough for movies. Not to mention that I'd be terrified at being seen. Norwich is a small place. So depending on how I feel I'll take him to see Transformers on Sunday morning.

If he hasn't self-immolated by then.

Three Part Post

Part One:

This image and about 90 others like it, is basically how I've been spending my time on the buses. It's a bit scary to think that in four weeks time, I will have completed my installation for my degree show, and so endeth my work at the College. Eeek! I'm still thinking seriously about the MA in Digital Art as a potential way forward for me as it will mean more self-generated projects like Journeying. Plus, at the end of my time I'll be able to go for better jobs than I can at the moment, specifically in the creative industries (whatever that means, I am merely repeating what the very kind careers officer told me). If I do decide to do the MA, I'll do it part-time as it will give me more breathing space to work and to grow creatively. Having said all of that, I'm not making any decisions that are set in concrete. I'm determined that I will take my time and see what opportunities present themselves. I've also been looking every week at the Guardian's Media page to see what's floating about. This indecision is unusual for me, I'm more the 'push-past-the-angels-and-bugger-the-consequences' type of girl, which has been fun, it must be said. At the moment, I'm very aware of the effect of my pending decision and I want to make the best possible one.

Part Two:

This is my Proud Mum Moment. This evening Boy and I met The Teachers at his school, to discuss his progress in the first year of high school. Our meetings with said teachers were brief. They pretty much all ran along the lines of: he's a keen student, he participates in class, he's pleasant to teach, he works hard, he's doing really well. In some cases, exceptionally well. Boy wants to be a vet, like his uncle Atlas. He's taken on board that he's going to have to be completely committed and motivated to do it and he's walking the talk. How proud am I? We went out to dinner to celebrate. He rocks!

Part Three:

This is a Big-Up for Gertie. If you have been clicking on my link, you will no doubt know that Gertie has been having a bit of a rough time lately. We first met working with NHSD, where she wasn't only working silly shifts, but also doing supply teaching around Norfolk. She had just qualified and thanks to a surplus of teachers in Norfolk, was without a permanent teaching position. So, she would finish at NHSD at 2am, go to bed for a few hours and then be up in time to teach a bunch of reception year kids numeracy and literacy at 8am. She had to move to Kent to a less-than-ideal temporary job and has had to deal with unruly kids (and I'm being kind in my description) as well as piss poor management.

I'm asking you to give Gertie a Big-Up because although life is being generally shite to her at the moment, she is still committed 100% to teaching. I'm just amazed by her fortitude and strength of purpose. Teaching is her dream job and as hard as it is now, I just know that she'll land that fab teaching job. In my skewed view of reality, success is The Outcome for that much determination and hard work. I'm so chuffed she's my friend. Go Gertie. Go Gertie.

Heretic Halo

This is Boy's first outing to YouTube, using Windows Movie Maker.

I'm such a dopey mum aren't I? awwww....

And then there was One

I survived the sleepover. The boys were great. They kept the noise down and I only had to tell them twice to go to sleep at 2.30 am. I went to bed at 9.30 and left them in the capable hands of Shaun of the Dead. I think they had a good time. Whether their parents will let them come back is another matter. Both boys looked really tired and I believe they had coke and chocolate birthday cake for breakfast, so I'm not going to be very popular at all.

Apart from that work went well. It was a very busy weekend with silly call volumes not helped by the continuing BA Radiation alert. A lot of very grumpy people ringing back to enquire about their call-backs for their ingrown toenails.

By the way, if you ever have dental pain:
1. don't leave it to Saturday afternoon to get it sorted out, when it started Monday morning
2. don't say 'I don't believe in painkillers, I'm in agony' and expect to get any sympathy
3. please register with a dentist well before the event, because trust me, dental problems will happen

My good deed for the day was for my taxi-driver. We were having a quick chat on the way home and he casually let slip that he'd gone to hospital the day before to have a chest X-ray for chest pains. He'd forgotten to mention to the doctor that he was also having pains in his jaw and down his left arm. Either, he was just looking for some attention or some sympathy or, his heart was sending him some messages he really should be listening to. One thing is for certain, my scripts are now second nature. I told him to give NHSD a ring, and if his pain increased at any point, to ring 999 sharpish.

Here endith the lesson. Hope you had a good weekend and will face the coming week rested, refreshed and ready to take the shite.

Celebrate Good Times

I am seriously bloated. Boy and I have just come home from a meal at the Lucky Star, a local Chinese restaurant that offers buffet meals - all you can eat, for not a lot of money. As I was sipping on my 4th cup of Chinese tea, Northern Monkey's Other Half's quest to find a decent Chinese meal flashed through my mind. So I thought I would do a restaurant review of our meal.

I have had squid in England and in Turkey. I've had it stir fried, battered in rings and now tonight, done with onion and chillies. I've been told that squid when it's fresh and flash cooked is a joy to behold. Tonight, I came to the conclusion that it's all bollocks really. I will now stop giving it the benefit of the doubt. Squid is a bit like chicken cartilage, chewy and tasteless.

Crispy seaweed. Tell me again ~ why? Its like deep fried cabbage. With a slight sweet tang. Nothing to write home about.

I'm really nosey about what people chose to eat and in what order. Think about it, you've got 3 different buffets ~ starters, mains and deserts. If you can help yourself to anything, you could be really inventive about the order of your meal. Start off with fruit, a bit of icecream and then beef in black bean sauce, prawn toast and crackers. Why not? Why do we always do the 'right' thing?

I also love watching people fill up their plates. It's like watching an artist preparing an installation, the care with which each type of meal is arranged into a huge food mountain the EU would be jealous of. I get to the point where I'm betting on the mini-vegetable spring roll that will exceed the critical mass and send the food spilling everywhere. Sweet and sour chicken balls being chased across the floor by the breaded crab claws.

Seriously, for parents wanting to eat out with their little darlings, I'd definitely recommend eating at Chinese restaurants. Culturally, they love kids, they expect them to run around and get in the way and be noisy. They don't give you pointed looks, get you extra napkins for the finger food and they'll sneak the kids treats when they think you aren't looking. I'm sure Boy has half a hundredweight of mints in his coat pocket.

We had a good time tonight. OMG am I full!

My Boy

Practising for the Asbo years!

SSSsssccccrrrrrreeeeeeeee!!!!

[The sound my nails make as I slip off my learning curve]

I have had a whopper of a bad day. Not helped by the continuing farce that is the radiation scare. Needless to say when I went in today, there was yet another way of processing the calls. Unrelated, tonight I went back in to work to get some training on the ugrades they will be making to the system. It is good how the system is organic and adjusts to meet the needs of the callers, but damn I'm tired.

I've just finished wrapping the first of Boy's pressies. A little something special for him. I'm really looking forward to tomorrow. I still find it so hard to believe that my bump turned into him. I was at a friend's birthday do which consisted of young trendies who were very down on the whole parenthood thing. They spent a lot of time coming up with witty ways to put parenting and children down. Afterwards, I realised how awkward I found the scathing humour. I love being mum to Boy. He is seriously wonderful and I am potty about him.

Hmmm....there should be a punchline with that thought, but it's late, I've had a glass of something naughty and I think I can hear my bed calling. Coming!

Opportunity Lost

Well, I did the best I could, and I just wasn't the best candidate for the call centre job. So it won't be my dulcet tones that you'll be hearing when you ring up to complain that your life has been ruined because the train was late.

I did however, receive permission to walk my son to his rendevous point with his mates on his way to high school. He had a great day, met his teachers, came home happy and bouncy. The reality of high school was a lot better than that which existed in his imagination. He has loads of friends in his year and in the years above him, the teachers are fine as are the other students. I wish I could say that it was down to me that he is so well adjusted, but it's not. He's a brilliant young man, because he is simply brilliant. I think I'm the priviledged one, being his mum.

Hi Hoooo!

It's official. I'm fed-up with being flat broke. Though it's truer to say I'm panicking because I'm so brassic. I found myself unable and unwilling to pester innocent family members, so have come to the conclusion it's off to work I go.

The problem is doing what? Giving up my course is not an option, so it'll have to be part-time stuff which isn't known for paying well. I have been looking for work similar to that which I did before, but because I no longer have a proper job, no one wants to give me proper job anymore. Fortunately, Norwich is blessed with many a shop, so I'm busy adjusting my CV accordingly and am about to do a huge mailout. Statistically speaking, someone will be desperate to have me eventually (FYI I'm talking about employment here).

Meanwhile, boy is off with his dad doing exciting man-like things for the week. I get him back next Monday. I'm not sure how normal 2 parent families cope with having their kids around all the time. Boy and I get bored with each other after a week solid in the holidays, we then start to drive each other nuts. The normal stuff sure is hard work.

Apart from that, I'm doing okay. Still butting my head against a brick wall about journeying. But that would change if I actually did some of the reading I've been recommended. Instead, I've been reading the Devil's Feather by Minnette Walters. I've enjoyed it thoroughly. She's back on form after Fox Evil and Disordered Minds. Would definitely recommend it. I'm also re-reading Barbara Vine's A Dark Adapted Eye, she writes a bloody good sentence. John Banville's The Sea continues to beckon, that's definitely next.

Finally Friday

Today will be a busy day. I'm in a meeting at ten and then on to college to invigilate Creative Writing's offering. As soon as I finish, I've got to get my butt home and clean the flat. She-who-is-hotter-than-Angelina, is coming with KFC tonight! It's hard to say who is more excited, me or my boy. I've promised to source some booze, so a trip to the offie is also needed before she arrives. It'll be an interesting weekend.

The weather has turned a touch cool, but it's still quite sunny. I am still a woman of mucus and goo and the past few weeks I've been grateful I just have the cat to look at me first thing in the morning. I'm a dead sexy sight. Wheezing and sneezing and itchy eyed! A wonderful man (all men who make me frothy coffees are wonderful), in a a local deli, suggested I ought to have a spoonful of local honey every day. As of yet, the only thing it's doing is sweetening my morning grapefruit. Perhaps it's one of those long-term things. Hopefully, it should calm down in the middle of July. Someone up there has an ironic sense of humour, an amateur gardener with hayfever!

I'm continuing to think about my work for next year. We spent last night wading through Aoen Flux, both the animated and movie versions. It brought home how uncool and unhip I am. I just didn't 'get' the animated version. Still have 2 dvds to go, I'm going to have to watch them on my own because my boy has been so well behaved and wonderful, I can't administer it as punishment.

Difficult to believe that in 6 months time, he will be 13. I cuddle him at every given opportunity. It's hard thinking that soon he won't want cuddles. Cuddles are the best part of being a parent I think. First there was a little bundle, squeaking and cacking; and now there's a boy nearly reaching my chin cuddling me back. He gets up first in the morning and acts as my alarm clock, though I'm usually awake when he comes in. He lies on the duvet next to me. Sometimes I just hold him and I come-to in silence, sometimes we start talking business about the day ahead. Sometimes we tickle each other and tease the cat. We certainly are a tactile and demonstrative family.

On Wednesday, it was the Summer Solstice and I had the opportunity to count my blessings. It was an easy list to make. My family, my friendships and my degree. Pretty much sums up my life at the moment.