My Life. My way (#Versatile Blogger Award – thank you for thinking of me xx)


Kristian here kindly nominated me for this award this week, or maybe it was last week?!   Check his site out; I enjoy his musings about life and I think you will too.

Versatilty is actually quite an apt description for me.   I can mess about in the kitchen on occasions and call it cooking, I can run a one-woman band business and keep my 400 clients happy, I can sweep a floor here and there and call it housework, I can drive across Europe in a 7.5 tonne horse lorry, create stories in my mind and wish them to appear on paper, make new friends.

I’m none of the following things:

  • Organised housewife with permanently tidy home.
  • Self-confident about my presentation at all times of the day or night.  (When it comes to my hair, I’m usually attempting to turn Worzel Gummidge into Grace Kelly and get stuck around Debbie Harry.)
  • Confident that the goal of completing my first draft will be achieved.

So the rules are:

1) Thank the person who nominated you with a link to their blog.
2) Include the banner in your post.
3) Tag it under #versatile blogger award.
4) Tell 7 things about yourself. What are some fun facts about yourself?
5) Keep the chain going by nominating other bloggers for this award.

Seven things about me you don’t yet know …. hmmmm … now what can I tell you now and what ought to wait until we’re sharing a cognac late at night.

1.  I’m late 40s and attempting to cling on to the vision of myself I’ve had for years, y’know – the one who is exercised, toned and healthy, floating gracefully through cornfields into a setting sun wearing a long white lacy dress, long blonde hair cascading down my back and shoulders, the likes of which they stole for the Elves in Lord of the Rings.  The reality is I’m slowly putting on weight and my waist has fucked off to pastures new.

2.  I love colour, but not too much at one go on walls.   I adore the modern phenomena which is greys and the thousand variations thereof, chalky paint finishes in stylish kitchens.  I think they came originally from New England, mixed with white woodwork and the UK has embraced them over the last 10-15 years.  (My kitchen cupboard doors incidentally have seventeen layers of paint applied across my 23 years occupation, in my attempts to modernise the originals beauties that Man of the Woods’ grandparents had fitted … so I’m guessing they are approximately fifty years old now).

3.  If I don’t laugh out loud regularly, I can become quite morose.   I am way more in tune with my wellbeing these days and am delighted to share my onward and upward blogging journey with you from where it started last October after the hands of the counsellors let go and gave me gentle encouraging pushes out over their threshold and into the big wide world.   I want to fly, for them, for me, for my children.   Man of the Woods has shown such a caring side these last few months; he’s been amazing.   He claims he always backed and supported me with actions … but now he’s doing something different.  His actions are backed up with quiet moral support, not hours of ranting at how good he’s been to empty the bins and cook the meals when I’m busy.

4.  I am presently a student of an online course with Curtis Brown Creative in an attempt to finish my first draft of a novel I started unearthing last Autumn.   Stephen King would be so proud to hear that I am excavating individual bones and bringing them up to create the whole skeleton.    I love that man.   No, that’s a silly thing to say.   I love what he said in his “ON WRITING – part memoir and part writing tips” book, and I have a huge new respect for him having read it.   He’s human.  Did you know that?  Just needed to check that you hadn’t been thinking, like myself, that he was some weird creator of weird horror films of old.  Carrie I never really liked, but hell – I watched it when I was 17 …. there was a high chance I would hate it.   When I found out he wrote Shawshank Redemption I was blown away as I adore that film.  So, I’m two weeks into the six week course and SK’s words are never far from my mind.

5.  I used to imagine I would be a top class tennis player.  At eight you have these dreams.  Wimbledon fortnight and the toc, poc sounds of the ball being returned across those grass courts for me was intoxicating.   Even now, if I walk past a bank of TV screens in a shop window (that doesn’t happen any more in your average high street, they’ve all closed down!) or on the back wall of Currys, I’ll stop and become mesmerised and study who is playing, who is fiddling with the strings of their rackets between points and admiring the oh so british linesmen and women who are timeless in their wardrobe attire and yet have to take the flack of the public if their calls of OUT are proved wrong by cyclops.

6.  I adore driving.   Anything and anywhere.   Day or night.   I love the promise of being out on the road, exploring.   I’ve driven to the far reaches of Cornwall, up to Scotland and frankly anywhere in-between I would consider to be on my doorstep!  Two years ago, I hired a car at a spanish airport and drove the kids and myself to our holiday apartment, never having driven on the right hand side of the road in a left hand drive.   I picked it up quickly and enjoyed the rush of adrenalin flow through me as the Hertz guy ran through the car’s finer points.   The kids were excited, shouting and giggling asking for the radio; it was 2am and it doesn’t seem to matter how old they are, the early hours brings about a level of excitement that 2pm simply would do.   By day three, I was driving around the roads of Puerto de Mazzaron like a local, buying throat sweets and headache tablets for the children whose immune systems has caught up with them.  Man of the Woods was back in the UK farming the land and hadn’t been able to join us.

7.   I am an only child, born of an RAF-serving father and an antique dealing, painter, singer mother.   His occupation was a fact, for 22 years.   Hers were desires and the dabbling thereof.   Suffice to say I cannot bare to hear a soprano voice, or opera of any sort.   A practicing mother within the house when you’re five and don’t understand the intricacies of ‘Tosca’ I assure you don’t go down too well.   I would make dens for myself from blankets fixed onto furniture.  I’d crawl inside my homemade tents with my soft toys, animals galore (I hated dolls; and still do) and all the books I could fit in there.  Little Grey Rabbit series was a favourite, but I did eventually discover that some humans were worth reading about; Enid’s Famous Five were adventurous and slightly rebellious in an innocent way with their egg sandwiches and coming in a whole hour late, goddamit!

Its been a giggle sharing this with you today .. now let’s nominate some other bloggers who may like to partake, but no pressure if they’re too busy to do so.  In no particular order, here are my nominations and I’ve chosen bloggers who I’ve not nominated before (or if I have, then forgive my tea-strainer memory) xx

Little Fears


My Daisy Daze