New house new blog

With the pressure of the second album syndrome hanging over me, I've thrown all caution to the wind and started a new blog.

All future ramblings can be found here Winnats Passages

Enjoy!

Knickers

It was the much anticipated Girl Guide Jumble Sale this weekend. We were feeling rather blasé about the whole affair, being old hands and everything. Both us adults were given bric-a-brac tables to sell (I'm sure in the hierarchy of jumble sales thats 'up there'). However, sorting of the jumble needed to be done the evening before.

We got stuck in to the mountain of bin bags, shopping bags and falling apart assortment of cardboard boxes in which people had deposited their preloved treasures. All was going well, the guides all opted to 'sort' the toys, which as far as I could tell was find toys (1 minute), put on table (30 seconds), establish if toy was play-worthy (10 minutes). Their other objective was to retrieve anything  of theirs parents had donated! 

It fell to us sensible adults to properly sort everything else. I attacked the bags with gusto, first I attempted to look at the clothes, fold nicely and place on the table in t-shirt/blouse/skirt/trouser piles (a librarian through and through). This was soon overtaken by the necessity of just one pile, making sure it didn't fall off the table. I reassured myself with thoughts of "oh well, it will all be a mess within five minutes of the doors opening."

With my enthusiasm, and decreased standards, I emptied the next bag of clothes onto the floor for rough sorting purposes. This I instantly regretted. I was greeted with a load of multicoloured undies, bras, pants and socks! Who would donate those?! A Guide, almost as horrified as me, said - people actually buy them as well! She, however, was very un-Guide like and wouldn't help me handle the said garments to pile onto the table. I found a small box which could be used for display purposes and shoved everything into that. Thank goodness for hand sanitizer and availability of counselling around OCD issues.

The bric-a-brac tables looked great. We grabbed some early bargains (staff perks) and the Scout hut looked all set for the onslaught of bargain hunters.

Our bargains included jodhpurs for Maisie, a jug, a nice woollen blanket, and a singing mexican hamster in need of more batteries. NO Knickers; none at all. And the best bit - £270 raised for the Guides.

Blogger exposed

In the light of recent lesbian bloggers turning out to be blokes living in Scotland, it's only fair to come clean. The blog by Chess the dog, was not written by the dog himself, but by a lesbian living in Derbyshire. Please accept my sincerest apologies for misleading you into believing the dog can type, I promise not to do it again. The dog can't type, his capabilities are fairly limited, but he can run really fast - unlike the lesbian living in Derbyshire, she can only manage a slow jog.

X rated movie

We treated ourselves with a trip to the cinema, X Men the chosen movie. We took Maisie and my niece along too. The movie received mixed reviews, Maisie, Alex and myself - LOVED it, Leanne said "well that's 90 minutes of my life I'll never get back". I don't think my pretending to read everyone's mind, and control metal objects all the way home made the situation any better

I actually wanted to see Kung Fu Panda 2, but Maisie is not so keen, she is a little intimidated by my enthusiasm. I cant see what her problem is Panda + Kung Fu + Jack Black = Win 

Chess says: X men pah, I can hop, I should be in that Kung Fu movie at least, Kung Fu Greyhound, now there's a movie title.

Chess the wonderdog and his adventure

Well it's the guest blogger you have all been waiting for, woof.

I hopped in the back of the car today, expecting the usual sniffs and fleeting glimpses of these damn squirrels. But no, it was completely different. Woof.

We end up in a place with all these giant machine things,  trundling along metal strips. Firstly, they were weird; secondly, they made a strange noise; and thirdly, the dumb humans that live with me were dragging me inside one. Whine.

On the thing [tram]. Not so bad. Getting lots of attention (well I do deserve it) - ooh cheese.

Ooh  - a dropped dolly mixture, woof.

What's this? We're moving. OK, I get it, just need to concentrate on standing up, and everything will be good. At least I can see out the window. Some child, obviously feeling the same trepidation, stands next to me and holds on to me. Well that's OK, I think he has more dolly mixtures. Woof.

We stop, we wait, we go…..backwards, help! Please let it end. We stop, I leap off, phew. Ooh cheese.

A great walk through the woods, loads of lovely sniffs, a few giant ants - the one they call Rachel appears to be as afraid of them as I was of the thing [tram]. I hang around the swings for a bit, then wander over to look over the bridge. Big mistake. More of them things, with loads of people on top of them. What to do, what to do. Do I run down and save them? 


Do I shout out run for your lives? I settled for chattering jaws and whining. Humans took the hint and we went for a bit more of a walk, then back to the car, then home, my bed - ooh cheese. Woof

P.S. Check out my new collar.

[We went to Crich Tramway Village - Home of the National Tramway Museum - ed]

Do you know how much fluid I had in my lung?

And I thought I was bad at conversation topics, many a chat has been about laundry or what's your favourite type of pen to write with. But the table next to ours at the pub on Friday night took the biscuit with a lung fluid conversation. 

It all started with going to the village hall to see a production of Alan Bennet's Talking Heads. We arrived (Leanne and my niece Alex and me) at the village hall - half an hour early to allow for pre-show drinks, and to get a good seat. Although previous experience of the village hall seats forewarned me that none of the seats are good as they all turn into instruments of torture after half an hour. We arrive, drive into a boss parking space (no other cars in the carpark) and sit in the car for a bit. Then another car arrives and they park opposite. Eventually we have the wit to check the notice on the door informing us of the cancellation due to ill-health. Off we all drive.

What to do now? The local was the obvious choice. The nearest pub had a sign saying they welcome customers old and new. Sounds like the place for us. The car park had a promising amount of cars in it - it must be open at least. In we troop. To a welcoming reception? Well, not exactly. More like when the stranger in a western walks into the saloon. All was quiet, all eyes were on us, and it was obvious we had just brought the average age of the clientele down significantly. At least the sign was half right, old customers we welcome.

Leanne and Alex ran the gauntlet of the other customers standing round the bar to get through to a free table. There was someone else making their way towards it, but he was easily out run. It was down to me to make the drink orders, which actually went fairly smoothly, helped I think by me recognising one of the customers. I wan't an outsider after all. 

Back to the table to enjoy the neighbouring tables' conversations. See above. Goodness knows what they thought of our Lady Gaga conversation and Leanne updating her Facebook status on one of them new fangled phones. At least the chairs were comfy.

Let's twist again

Well, it's that time of the year again, Chatsworth Horse Trials. This year we went on Saturday, less international stars, but more local talent and less people. This year we brought the dog which proved to be a major advantage when it came to meeting other dogs and their owners.

A big attraction was one of Maisie's friends little sister being involved with the Maypole dance - or pole dancing as she described it to her grandmother. Leanne hadn't witnessed this great tradition previously which I was surprised to learn. To summarise, Maypole dancing involves children clinging to a ribbon that's attached to a giant pole. Then they skip around the pole to some folk music (today's tune was the Floral Dance), occasionally weaving around each other to create a patten with the ribbons - a bit like giant macramé. The idea is not to run into each other, after a patten is made on the centre pole, or a web effect, the dancers have to do everything in reverse, which I guess prevents dizziness.

Then it was off to watch a French horse whisperer and his troupe of highly trained horses. He was actually amazing - he had moved in with the horses or something, and created a special bond with them, and they would do whatever he asked. Just like our dog (not). 

After lunch, the cross country was calling. I love it and hate it. I get all anxious when I see the size of the jumps, and the horse approaching at great speed. We held our breath, we oohed and clapped, and took a few photographs. 

It's the bomb!

Well, the 4th of May is usually star wars day, so we went to look at some unidentified water bombing objects (UWBOs), which seemed like a fitting event. This is actually the name of the university of Sheffield library's actual water bombing team. Yes, I managed to get my self a job where actual world champions work.

We arrive at Ponds Forge swimming pool for the World Championship Water Bombing Competition, and are struck by, no not the grandeur of the occasion, but the heat. It was like a sauna at the poolside. As we took out seats in the stands, I was hopeful we would loose at least a couple of pounds in sweat. Something needs to happen after all the tapas and San Miguel in Ibiza! Anyway...

On reading through the program, we discover it really is a world championship, a team had travelled from as far away as Coventry. But mainly all the teams are Sheffield and surrounding areas based. The Championships are in fact, an excellent fundraising event for Macmillan Cancer Research.

After a small sweltering wait, the games were underway. The teams paraded out to the side of the pool, and we had a taster of what was in store for the evening. There were fully grown adults in nappies (Water babies), the predictable men in nurses uniforms (The defending champions), a few school girl outfits (clearly trying to get the adult male vote), a school teacher and an odd looking Morris Dancing troupe (maybe they had turned up at the wrong community event). Our team, the UWBO had outfits designed by local school kids and got the biggest cheer. They were dressed as various odd looking space creatures in full body suits with space related accessories. 

One member from each team had a jump, made a splash, got a score from the judging panel, and tried to get out the pool in the most dignified way, whist carrying bits of their outfit they had become separated from during the bomb. It was very exciting, we loved the splashes, loved watching the various bits of lost outfit sink to to the bottom of the pool (mainly the Morris dancers' hats), and cheered very loudly for our team and help up giant 10 scores.

At the end, our team were silver medal winners, the nurses retained their title. But, the UWBOs proudly stepped up to first place for the team that raised the most money for Macmillan Cancer Research (£2700). Yay for the UWBOs. 

All in all a good evening, and I can safely say I never want to see a grown man squeezing out pool water from his nappy again, and I wasn't impressed with the practicality of water bombing in a mankini, it didn't seem to be covering much when the bloke got out the water. It gave Maisie something to talk about on the school bus though!

Flip flop flip flop - the sound of summer

An early start - 4 am in fact - destination Ibiza. All a little bleary eyed we drive down to East Midlands airport. All was going well, we had booked a 'stress free' parking service where a geezer meets you at the airport and parks your car for you. Very organised. We are walking to the entrance when Leanne shrieks 'where's my handbag!' Only the handbag with the passports and the money and EVERYTHING. I run off after the stress free guy, fortunately delayed by the ticket machine. Good job I've been running.

From then on the journey was uneventful, we found the apartment and got the keys.  Lovely aspect, lovely weather, let the holiday begin!  

After spending too much in the supermarket on chorizo and olives - it was time for a dip in the pool. Walking down to the pool, we pass a few locals, who looked at us as if we were completely mad. When we got to the pool we realised why. It may have been lovely and sunny, but the water was freezing. Being made of sturdy stuff, in we jump. Actually, once you had lost all feeling in your legs it was rather pleasant.

We splashed on the fake tan, ate tapas and drank San Miguel, took evening walks in the setting sun, and had a lovely holiday.

I even tried my hand at Spanish. After a few holas I felt very confidant. At the Cafe del Mar, famous for sunsets and music cd compilations, I order the sangria and Maisie's alcohol free cocktail in my best Spanish, and the waitress says - English is OK. Oh well. 

Back to Blighty for wedding madness.

Moving times

Not home, but work. We have moved offices at work, I am now working in the big scary library known as Western Bank Library. I keep getting lost as it's a rabbit warren. For a while I kept turning up in strange offices, smiling and saying hi I'm Rachel, my team has just moved to the old serial office and I'm finding my way around, seemed to work quite well, though I'm not sure I'll be able to get away with it next week.

We left our old office with a traditional morning tea for the librarians we were leaving behind. My team went to the local supermarket on mass (all 5 of us) It was exactly like Reservoir Dogs except with librarians as we walked along. An intimidating sight for anyone I'm sure! Also, I've decided that if ever I have a shop that sells pastries, I'll have a sign on the door saying 'one librarian at a time' similar to the school kid signs you see on sweet shops! Enough said.

After our morning tea, we strode up the road to new beginnings. Of course we had to stop at a cafe for more coffee. After coffee we went …no not the new office, the pub. after all it would be a couple of hours before our desks and pcs were set up. Who ever said librarians were stuffy tea drinking, tight wearing bespectacled twin set donning ladies, we know how to live!

On arrival at the new office, the existing occupants had made lovely rainbow welcome signs and there was cake. Perfect for afternoon tea. All in all a good day. And - the library is right next to a really lovely park, with a lake, ducks and trees in full blossom, perfect for lunch tomorrow.

I love daffodils, they are so ridiculous. 

Time for change, antiques, weddings and Mother's Day

A bit behind on my blogging - too busy getting used to the time change. The first morning was great, up with the larks, ignored the fact it was dark when getting up again, exercised, breakfasted, ready for work, all went smoothly. Then Tuesday hit. A completely different story. The novelty has worn off. A sluggish drag out of bed, a lack lustre breakfast, and everything at work was hard work. Now that's not right! But the good news is, it's Friday, how good is that?

We had the afternoon off - not Maisie she needed to go to school. Off to Buxton to explore the antique shops. After getting side tracked by the charity shops on the high street, we eventually got to where we remembered all the antique shops were. Yes were. There was one left, with all the other units full of shops full of stuff you don't need, and plenty of royal wedding memorabilia, which we do need apparently - if we are to believe the marketing! Humph.

Talking of weddings - the great news is  - my niece is getting married next year! She sent a message to female family members (the young ones) asking them to be bridesmaids. Curiously, me and Leanne were included in the email. I was reading the message on my phone, and I honestly thought I was being asked to be a bridesmaid. My heart started beating rather quickly, and I was finding it hard to breathe. When I scrolled down further, I saw it was Maisie who was being asked. Oh well, I guess middle aged lesbian bridesmaids are only required by a limited number of brides…one day I'll get to wear the shiny pink dress and have flowers in my hair again. Yes again, that's what the niece's parents made me wear at their wedding! Actually, the very last time I wore a dress.

Mothers day on Sunday. That means it's not safe to go to the supermarkets on Saturday evening. There will be too many fathers with the kids without the vaguest idea where the eggs and bacon are kept. The kids are too busy putting all the contraband stuff in the trolley usually banned by Mum to be of any help whatsoever. You can bet that the contraband will be eaten in the car so as not to be confiscated by the mother. Then the kids will either be sick, or have a big crash after a sugar high, or both, leaving the mother to clear up the mess. Maisie has it easy, we both know the way round a supermarket, and she knows how the coffee machine works.

Hold the front page - Librarian takes off cardigan in sweltering heat

Yes spring is here. The sweltering weather continues, 16 degrees promised tomorrow. After our winter, this feels like a tropical heatwave. The students were getting about in shorts, tee shirts and flip flops. The girl fashion appears to be micro skirts or micro shorts and tights, worn with strappy tops. I, however, just took off my cardigan.

Daffodils are in full yellow swing, the clocks change next week, and I swallowed at least half a dozen midges on my run on Tuesday evening. Oh yes, the dog is losing his coat  - not the one with pockets, but his hairy one.

Talking of the dog - that big fierce hound we live with. On another run - yes it's becoming habitual - we encountered some sheep. When I say some, imagine a sea of sheep, sheep for as far as the eye could see, more sheep than in the whole of New Zealand - well let's just say loads. The sheep were gathered around the farmer and his tractor. With no way to navigate around them due to a fence and a brook, through them we had to go. The dog was pretty good, just had one small freak-out when a particularly menacing sheep (with horns) approached too close. Through the sheep and out the other side, time to start our run again. The blinking sheep only decide to follow us! I had to have a stern word and tell them not to follow - much to the farmers amusement. One word from him though, and the sheep remembered their loyalties - Oh yes: farmer + tractor = food! Off they trotted - much to the dog's (and my) relief.

Parent's evening, bugs, bad dad, shopping and work madness.

Parent's evening was very interesting - 10 appointments, 3 minutes each, with 3 minutes to allow for travel. Sounds easy, until you get parents jumping in because they see a space, and factor in the back logs caused by maths and english. Anyhow - off we set. the drama teacher greeted us with jazz hands, the IT woman had a very compacted colour coded spreadsheet and the R.E. teacher instantly recognised me as Maisie's parent. 

The bugs were all Maisie's - off sick from school for a couple of days - maybe the trauma of her parents meeting all her teachers brought it on. It did mean we had to stay away from my father for a few days for fear of infecting the whole home with Maisie's bugs. He compensated by buying a bottle of wine and sneaking it into the home in his sleeve! He's not supposed to drink too much with the medication he's taking. One of the carers grassed him up, and confiscated the wine. Poor thing.

We compensated by taking him shopping to buy a new watch. His had an unfortunate altercation with a washing machine. Into Chesterfield, and into a jewellers, they were lovely  - sat him down and brought out a selection. A gold elasticated strapped one was chosen, it has day date on so he can see what day it is - working this out has been a bit tricky lately. 

Monday - back to work. The lovely weather at lunch time (a bit brisk) provided an opportunity to walk around the block. Walking past a school, how lovely, all the little children at play. I spot a group of kids the other side of the play ground, clinging to the wire in what looks like a desperate plea for freedom. On further inspection I ascertain they are willing the escaped ball to leap back into the playground. on spotting me they chorus 'please can you throw our ball back?' - cute. I walk up to the ball with the sweet innocent children still pleading please can you get our ball, then one suggests I kick it back over the fence. Another little dear says, she cant do that, she' s an old lady! Bloody cheek! Resisting the urge to wedge the ball in a tree, I did actually throw the ball back (using my best netball skills - not my absent football ones). The gang ran off after the ball, very excited. One kid stayed at the fence to say thank you - faith in humanity restored.

Photos from a quick trip to Chatsworth gardens as they have reopened for the season. Chess needed to pee on every single bush, bless him, he really does deserve ice cream.

Aint no mountain high enough, aint no track short enough

Maisie's 12th birthday, climbing, the Edge - not Froggatt Edge, too dangerous and too outside for this time of year. The Edge climbing centre in Sheffield. Kid plus 6 friends + instructor and 20 meter high walls with multicoloured fake rocks to cling onto = a good party venue. Especially as there was not much room for spectators, so it was necessary for adults to sit next door in the cafe and drink coffee. Back to Top o' th' Hay for pizza, cake, fruit kebabs, DVD and hanging out, without ropes this time.

In need of endorphins to survive seven 12 year olds, I went for a run on Saturday morning - I kept going for 26 minutes  - it might have been longer, but I could see the car and my pace quickened at the thought of stopping. After the success of Saturday, I went for another on Sunday. All was well with the world, I ran a greater distance and kept going for four minutes longer. Unfortunately - after sitting down for a while, I lost all ability to move with any comfort. Who said exercise was good for one? There was an advert for a Marathon on the TV - mum politely asked if I was going in for it. Not blinking likely. At least my wii fit instructor will be pleased with me, we've been on rocky ground since the fish and chip incident in Blackpool.

Seaside sauce

At Maisie's request. for her birthday weekend, we bundled ourselves into the car, dog and all, and took ourselves for a fun-filled time in Blackpool. We got there, we drove round aimlessly (thanks to the highly complicated one way system), we parked, we looked for food. We had a vast array of choice - as long as it was fish and chips or pizza! We chose chips at Harry Ramsden's. I'd never been to one so it seemed as good a time as any to give it a go. 

The service was….lacking? Lacklustre? A foreign concept? We were greeted at the door with a barked "Two adults, one child?" Yes we said, as we did the next two times we were asked. We got to the table, and the waitress was bustling about with the menus, placing them on the table, complaining we hadn't sat down as she would normally put them in our hands…we hadn't had a chance to sit down. Then I upset her by asking for adult menu for Maisie - she's far too old for the kid menu which comes with crayons. This caused a little controversy  - but you said two adults one child…ahh - now I get it, she was obviously referring to what menu we needed…how silly of us not to realise. She stalked off to complain about us to her colleagues, and we were left to contemplate the various ways your fish and chips could be served. With bread and butter? White or brown? Sauce? Red, brown or yellow. With peas - mushy or minted, without fish, without chips, with pie? All  good healthy options.

The waitress who took our order was a little more civil - it couldn't have been hard. The food arrived in good time, and was actually very enjoyable - even the fluorescent mushy peas. Leanne and Maisie turned up their noses up at the peas but they have undeveloped palettes for such fine dining.

We retrieved the dog from the car and set off  down the front on a quest to avoid donuts and sticks of rock. We ended up at the big wheel on the pier. Obviously they didn't allow dogs, so it was left to me and Maisie to brave the dizzy heights. There was no one else on the wheel and the bloke implied we were not in full possession of our marbles as we wanted to go on! When we were at the top, I could understand why - it was bloody freezing!

We celebrated Maisie's birthday with a trip to Sealife aquarium, lunch out, a walk in a park, and a great japanese meal in Lytham St Annes. The scottish, japanese teppanyaki chef called Jimmy was good value, juggling the pepper grinder, clanging his spatulas, a bit of chat, more juggling - eggs this time, and cooking up a wicked teppanyaki.

Sunday morning and a brisk walk on the sands was needed. The dog loved it - a chance to run and run. There were no donkeys, but the wind turned us all into hairy creatures with a tendency to bray. Hair by Blackpool, not suitable for all, but we enjoyed it.

Highly Strung

Maisie's school Valentines concert

We arrived, we sat near the front, we were excited. Maisie had been keeping the names of the songs a secret.

Not only were the junior choir performing, but also various other instrumental ensembles. During the Junior string - grandma leant over and said - "I'm so glad Maisie is learning the flute." I suspect one to the budding violinists turned over two pages at the same time. 

The percussion band however were excellent, beforehand their teacher did a little talk saying this is the one class where we say, you can have as much fun and make as much noise as you can, unfortunately, the percussionists looked like pale frightened rabbits caught in the headlights in front of such a large audience. They gave us a rousing Sambaesque rendition. The only down side was they were right at the front of the hall, as was the old lady in the wheelchair, and the headmaster. Old lady clutched her ears and cowered in fright during the whole performance, headmaster developed an uncontrollable blink twitch kind of movement every time the snare drum was struck (frequently)

Then it was the turn of the junior choir, about 40 girls, and 10 boys. In they trouped, on the stage they stood, and out came - tunes from the shows - starting with Oliver - a firm family favourite, Maisie gave us a little grin - result. Well worth sitting thorough the string cacophony.

Knickers and glory

Last week we went for a family meal with both my parents. Not that unusual, except that they have been divorced for decades. All went well, and the menu had a selection of dishes that were probably on the menu when they were still married. I couldn't resist the prawn cocktail, Maisie and I shared a knickerbocker glory.

 We have had lots and lots of rain, lots of water under the bridge - less today, see the difference for yourselves. 

Valentines tomorrow - love is all you need

Nailed it

After much hunting for a nail kit, I found a french manicure kit, not for myself you understand, but for Maisie and her friend. £3 from Debenhams, a bargain! Way better than the £25 over the top kit form Argos, and Claire's Accessories - well they could do with a visit from Mary Portas (my new crush - not virtual this time) and one of her retail overhaul sessions where the customer comes first.

Here's the scene - Sheffield high street, lunchtime, very busy, a slightly butch, slightly overweight lesbian enters stage left. Steps into Claire's Accessories, on the look out for a nail art kit. Two assistants, one customer (me). Waiting for a gap in their conversation (banal) "Excuse me, I'm looking for a nail art kit." I thought I'd make light of the situation; "not for me of course." I might have just as well have thrown up on the counter for the look I got. One of them managed a point towards a display on ground level. I creak down with my middle-aged knees to look, fairly hopeful (after having visited Boots and Superdrug  to no avail). I was, however, slightly disappointed as the kit wasn't quite what Maisie had in mind. I expressed my disappointment to the lovely assistant, hoping for some actual care (I was their only customer, after all). Sarcastic voice - "Well, you can go to Boots or Superdrug then". Dismissed. The end. Conversation (still banal) resumed.

The woman in Debenhams was lovely.

Maisie's friend arrived, a great evening watching them play with the Wii, then off to Meadowhall shopping mall the next day - more retail therapy. We enjoyed sushi for lunch, and the girls went off by themselves for an hour (with only a little parental anxiety). They headed straight for Claire's - although I suspect may have fitted the store demographic more than me.

Oh yes - it's been really windy, a tree blew down in the garden, time to get the chainsaw out again.

Save Our Libraries Day Feb 5th 2011

Everyone who cares about reading, literacy and libraries to use their public library on the 5th February and tell as many people as they can to do the same.

The only gay in the library

Well it's that time of year - time for the delayed by snow work Christmas party. I approached the party decision with a fair amount of trepidation. Colleagues were either wildly over enthusiastic or "I'm not going to a library party ever again". Unfortunately all of my team fell into the latter category. Undaunted by this, I felt it was necessary to sample the party for myself, I signed up, I had promises from non team colleagues that they would talk to me, what's the worst that could happen.

The evening arrived, the clean shirt was donned, and we were off down the road to the City Hall for the festivities. Upon arrival it was a nice touch to see a red carpet by the door. It wasn't so good to see a police car and an ambulance, blimey these Sheffield librarians obviously know how to get a party started, it was barely 7.15 pm. Fortunately the emergency vehicles were completely unrelated.

Drinks at the bar were very pleasant, we all clinked glasses and said Happy Christmas and Happy New Year in the spirit of the Christmas party. Then it was the dash to the tables in the ballroom. As far as I could tell, the objective was not to sit with the big boss, it's the same at every library party I've ever been to! Mission accomplished, seated with some lovely people, pleasant chatter ensued, a great evening. We had crackers to pull, stupid hats to wear, and even party poppers to pop. The candelabras on the tables with burning red candles was a nice touch, as was the bottles of wine on each table.

We drank, we were merry, we collected our Christmas dinner from the carvery, I'm fairly confident they hadn't just frozen the food from the cancelled date, the vegetables looked and tasted fairly fresh to me!

Then on came the 'entertainment'. This was a Russian (fake) accented bloke - Madame Galina - in a white tutu, who proceeded to do a ballet routine around the ballroom, pretty good, then came the audience participation. Asking people to help with his routine, he saw all the party poppers and mentioned it was like a gay club. Then he wanted to out all the gays, and asked all the gays to put their hands up. Me being a nice compliant girl, I dutifully raised my hand before I could think. Guess what - I was the only one! Madame then insulted my shirt, and I'd accidentally outed myself to the entire library - not that I mind, but it is my best shirt.

It's virtual love

The TomTom situation

We were driving to a friend's place in Marsden in the south Pennines, we decided to use the TomTom instead of the traditional trusted map. Off we set. The journey was without incident down to the bottom of the road. 'Jane' talked us through the junctions (I think Leanne has a crush on her).

It was well into our journey that the first altercation happened. Jane said "turn left" Leanne said "I'm not doing that, I want to go this way. Ahh - woops, maybe Jane was right." This happened several times throughout the journey. I actually found it quite reassuring - it isn't just my directions that Leanne ignores, she disregards the sat nav's as well. I'm beginning to warm to that Jane.

The Wii affair

We have been putting the Wii fit to good use, and I may have developed a crush on my personal trainer. What is it with us and these virtual chicks? If you were a passer-by and happened to look in and see one of us seemingly doing demented penguin impressions (in a vague attempt at one of the balance challenges), would you call an ambulance? Perhaps you should. Maisie is of course the best at EVERYTHING, but we are enjoying it and its helping with shedding pounds from the excess Christmas treat consumption.

The dog is really, not virtually, in love with sitting in front of the fire in his pyjamas - wonder where he gets that from?