Where there is pain.....

...there is pleasure.

RIP 28-70mm Sigma fat boy

And long live a slightly better if not more perfect 24-85mm.

Thank god for insurance.

Our best friend

Whilst belle is away at my mommas (being spoiled rotten) I have been filling my days with this little dude.
If you do not know the character of a Dachshund, let me tell you this.
They are fiercely loyal to their owners and are territorial in looking after you.
You can leave them for 20 seconds or two days and they greet you with the same enthusiasm - everytime.
They love to stay within touching distance of you (Eddy lives under my skirt as I stand and scrap).
They are loving, gentle creatures and great with kids.
You can't help but adore them even if they eat your shoes.

We took Edds out for a lovely walk tonight. It was a beautiful evening and he loves us both to take him out. He feels like a real show off when we both take him. Infact if one of us take him for a trot, he will refuse to budge! He absolutely loves running through long grass and he jumps like a freaky bunny throughout. As he plummets through the overgrowth, his ears flap like crazy and tongue hangs out of his mouth in sheer excitement. He expects a hug and a cuddle at every trick and submits for a belly rub at every opportunity. We love him so much that he is so spoiled with affection. He knows this and we know this. Its how you should be with your doggies.

I wonder what tricks we will be up to tomorrow.

:( :( :(

All was going well. Perfect, lubbly and happy.

I had secretly sneaked over to my mums house on Monday (2.5 hours drive from here) to meet up with my sister and her two kiddlies (a 2 hour drive for her as well) and dad let us into the house whilst Mum had lunch with her friends. She had no idea we were all going to surprise her on her return and she broke her heart with happiness that we did that! Of course then I get choked up, my sister gets choked up and mums friends ball their eyes out. Then my brother came over later (he had to work but it was 1.5 hours drive for him) and we were altogether and happy and celebratin'.

Like I say all was perfect.

Then my sis went home (cry, cry) and we came back from a restaurant to settle in for the night at Mums.

And I was emptying the car, on my own as everyone had gone in to eat cake.

Then I tripped over.

And in my hands was my prized Macbook Pro and on my arm was my prized D200 complete with my most favvo 28-70mm Lens.

Forget that I was almost dead in the middle of the street.

Oh yeah.

For before my very eyes was the end of my 28-70mm lens life and the beginning of the end of my mac book.

Hmmm, nice wound. I suddenly am catapulted back to being 8 with grazed knees like that. Classy.
Although now it seems the camera is in full working order (it took the following pics) and I am still alive and Mark, Belle and Eddy are healthy so that's all that matters right?

And of course Im insured.

But do you ever wonder where the rewind button is?

And here we are on Weds with a chock block full blogging session about to appear before your very eyes.

**Hang on, let me send the dog out. It smells rather stanky in here. That dog is a danger to the ozone and all my belongings**.

Hmmmm, fresh air and Maya Gold chocolate suddenly replenishes the green mist.

Ahem.

Anyway, I want to take you back to last week and finish off telling you about my trip to London. Id written about Tues and Weds but need to finish Thurs, Fri and Sat.

Thurs 10th

Clare and I woke up for breaky in our fake fabulous hotel. There is one small room appointed for the residents in which to scoff the first meal of the day. To be honest, this room is a bit spesh. It has a rather ornate table with extra groovy ornate chairs to match. There is a beautiful sideboard finished in gilded mouldings and beneath it lies a glass cabinet filled with accompaniments you would expect to line a dining table. It is dated but in a very antiqued fashion and I quite like it. When Clare and I sat down we noticed that amongst the furniture was this rather ugly piece of unfabulous furniture which did not match the decor. It had that fablon style lining and on each shelf were doyleys and a tray of cutlery. We commented on how much it was hurting our eyes. The waitress/porter/clerk/cleaner came to our table and took our order. She asked what would we like for breaky. We had a choice of cereal and toast or cooked breakfast and toast. And cooked breakfast consisted of one egg and one rasher of bacon. Not one to moan (much) I opted for the cooked breakfast because after all I am made out of lard. Whilst the waitress had gone to cook our breakfast, Clare nudged me on the shoulder and pointed in the vicinity of the ugly cupboard.

And we both burst out laughing.

And I mean squealed with laughter (and leaked a little, eeeks).

That ugly cupboard was being lowered through the floor and we then realised that ugly cupboard was actually a incredibly groovacious dumb waiter. And when the cupboard had gone, all that was in its place was some flooring which was the top of the cupboard.

And I didn't take a picture because I was dead on the floor from over laughter.

Then the waitress come cook come prime minister brought our food and she said nobody had laughed at that event before but she was smiling and was probably thinking we were only allowed out from the sanatorium for a week. She tossed her head back and laughed and flicked us a few toffee's to see us through the day.

We took the tube down to Westminster from Sloane Square. It was oh-so-cosmo taking the tube to work. I used to travel by tube to work in 1992 for a while when I lived in Nottinghill. I don't miss the soot up my nose nor the heat of the tube. I certainly do not miss horrible body odour from commuters holding the hand rail nor having my face shoved into some matted beard of a really smelly man.

Wouldn't you agree that there is at least one smelly man on every tube or is it that I attract said smelly man complete with halitosis and BO?

Upon exiting westminster we were met with the sight of the Houses of P. You just can't top that big ben fella with his glorious, proud flanks of amazing architecture. Clare and I stood for a while taking in this wondrous sight as everyone else hopped, skipped and jumped about their daily business.

We got to the QEII centre in good time, unpacked 17,000 boxes and made the table up for the guests to arrive. Clare had designed two lovely cards and we were expecting 200 guests that day and 200 the next. All taking home two mags and £9 worth of products. Every one of our guests thoroughly enjoyed their Design Objectives experience and it was a pleasure to meet them.

That night we bummed around Chelsea harbour and ate out in a fabulous thai restaurant where I tried buffalo (posh beef) and chatted with some great people from Jolly Nation, Personal Impressions and QVC themselves.

It was then back to our fake fabulous hotel for Clare and I and I really couldn't wait to go to breakfast again. Just to laugh my head right off its shoulders.

Friday 11th

The day pretty much went like the day before but with even more lovely guests to share a joke or two with. I even got to meet the mother of Sam Nixon (from The Bill) who is as craft daft as the next man. The end of the day saw us wrap up the show and whilst being at the end of the room next to the Mic's, clare could not resist getting up and having a sing song. i kid you not, the girl has got balls of steel and she had everyone in fits of laughter as she sang "and now, the end is near, and so I face, the final curtain.......". That then ran into a Back street Boys track I can't recall but by then I was gasping for air from laughing so hard. She is so much fun to be around. I love working with her.

Of course we had to celebrate the end of a good show with a few drinkie-poo's so it was over to the nearest "pab" as they say in Landan. Ooooh did I get a little bit wasted or what? We spent most of the night with Dawn and JJ and some darling girls from QVC. It got to about 10 and we had not even had tea so we scurried over to Drury Lane to this amazing and I mean amazing and I don't lie about this kind of stuff restaurant. I have never been anywhere so theatrical, fabulous, cosy, enlightening and superb. Its a Turkish restaurant that's all close and cosy. There are little wells filled with tables and cushions and above those wells are mezzanine turrets with more tables and cushions. Its the most spectacular place I have ever sat in. The food was not completely fabulous but it was just so fun to sit quite intimately and casually around the most groovacious table ever. Wine and conversation flowed and it was one of those evening where you just don't want it to end. But of course they do. Anyway, Its called Sarasota's on Drury Lane. Go there and be happy :)

So it was back to our fake fabulous hotel for one more night and I did not want to get up at 5.30am to get the train to Kettering to work in a shop all day demoing. the though filled me with dread because I was knackered.

Saturday 12th

Had to skip our breakfast due to catching the train at the crack.

It left at 6.30am prompt and I was prepared to get an hours shut eye on the train before Traci picked me up and whisked me off to Prima Crafts in Warwick. Two seriously grumpy guys got into a kerfuffle on the train and I stood up between them (bold as brass but secretly crapping my pants) and asked them to not be so aggressive. They could see the fear in my eyes and they took their argument on the platform where they were arrested shortly after by the transport police. It got nasty, shall we say. I mean what could I do, a girl has got to catch up on her beauty sleep. I wasn't about to let two guys fighting over luggage space ruin my zzzzzzzzzzzz's.

Traci met me at the station with a lubbly coffee and we set sail for Warwick. I wondered how I would manage to stay awake. But you know, when I got there and freshened up and slapped a bit of mazzy on, it was all systems go. I am so pleased that the shop had a record selling day running out of Flocking and Big Bytes. The shop owner, Emma, really enjoyed the demo and I enjoyed being in the company of Rosie and Hannah who kept filling me up with conversation and cake. It was a fabulous little shop with the nicest of shopkeepers and customers. I'm so glad I went and I wouldn't have swapped it for anything.

Traci then picked me up and took me to her house where I went to another Thai restaurant with her daughter too. Traci is such a delight to be around and I couldn't have asked for more perfect days than these. Except of course when I flamin fall over and smash all my bones and belongings.

Pappa poo pants :(

Anyway, Friday (just gone) and QVC.

Holy shag bags, I had the train journey from hell.

My train was due to arrive at 12.30 which meant I had 1.5 hours to luxuriate in the smog of Landan.

I took my phone to be charged on the train (you know, they have sockets!!!!) but when I sat down and took out my charger it turned out to be my old charger for my old phone.

Pants.

And my phone was dead.

And the train was already an hour late arriving which meant I had half an hours grace to get to Chelsea Bridge from Euston upon arrival in Landan.

Fine, I thought.

I had a tube ticket prepaid to ease the speed.

Wrong.

Speed is not a word Virgin understand.

God bless him but Richard Branson has not got a scooby on what its like being a third rate passenger on what is commonly known as the Pandolina service (meant to be very very fast). Except I think it was called "Piss-about-ina" that day.

Every conceivable thing that could go wrong on a journey, did.

We ended up skirting round the midlands to avoid a points issue and there was me, frantic and trying to cope with this guy who was complaining most audibly.

"I wanted to get the carriage that had one man on it and then he had to be asleep" he said.

"Yup, and I bet you also wanted a gold encrusted seat complete with a personal masseuse too - on a Friday. Aint happening babe." I thought.

Then he huffed and puffed when a baby started crying.

And inwardly I started crying.

I was going to be very very late.

Had I of known morse code I could have sent kinetic signals to QVC or indeed tied a note to a carrier pigeon to fly direct and deliver my "please excuse me".

The guy sat opposite, who I thought was Irish and turned out to be Canadian (who had just spent two weeks in Ireland and had lost his accent so quick....random) offered me his phone to call my hubs. Only his phone was still connected to Canada and I had to fathom how to call the Uk from his phone even though I was in the UK. V. Weird indeed.

I rang mark to call every one at QVC, even the porters, cleaners and key grip guy (I love the term Key Grip. No idea what it entails but I think i want to do Key Grip and see my name on rolling credits at the end of a film). Mark duly rang everyone to tell them i was going to be horrendously late thanks to Richard Bransons major branded company being a complete failure.

I ought to have known booking a virgin train was trouble. The reason why I know this is that when Ellie was conceived, she indeed was conceived through the failure of a Mates condom (also made by Virgin...... condoms by virgin - how frikkin funny is that?)

I know that is TMI but there you go - trivia is power.

Not that Ellie is a failure, mind.

God no.

She is a major success in my eyes.

But still..

Mark does all the PA stuff and QVC and Dawn know I am late and v. peed off about it.

I listen to gold encrusted guy moaning about the air quality on the train, I listen to Irish Canadian guy talking about his life (He was, to be fair, a great guy but I was seeing red throughout the rest of the train journey and I was desperate for a wee and the train lavvies are hardly hygienic, even after a good bleaching).

So we arrive ten thousand years late and I hail a cab. I lift up my arm and rain clouds of sweat pour from the anxiety of it all. Cab driver whisks me to QVC and dons his gas mask. And chunders on about all the famous people he has had in his cab but to be fair I did ask him the question and the most famous people he had in his cab was Guy and Madonna - and even then he said they were arguing. No shocks there then, Heat magazine clearly write the truth!

16 sheets later and Im in QVC and in the green room waiting to be called forward. This woman comes over to me, a little wisp of a lady she was and asks am I the make up artist.

No I am not. For I am a scrapbooker. Why, even a life artist (he he heeeeeeeeee).

This lil wisp was Lulu Guinness as she introduces herself to me.

I have heard of her before in Heat magazine (the mecca of all juicy goss and all things spangly). I explain I knew of her name. And she casts a glance over at my handbag and my bag is only a little carry tote and is not strikingly fabulous so therefore she has inwardly labelled me as a loser. I could see the glint of disdain in her eye over the shock of her ruby red lippy.

She only makes v. expensive bags and is showcasing them later that night on telly.

They all sell out in 25 minutes.

400 sheets a piece some of them.

And she didn't offer me one although I think she ought to have for mistaking me for a make up artist. That's sue-able in my eyes and only comforted by a very expensive bag in all honesty.

Didn't happen though.

Liked her bags and loved her uber cool presence.

Sniff sniff.

So anyway.

I get called up for my screen test.

Im quite composed at this stage but inwardly shagged off that I was late.

And it was noted that I was late.

Although they knew I was gonna be late.

So Anthony is my presenter and I get miked up.

The young guy (miking me) practically fainted at the prospect of shoving his hand up my top to feed the mike through had his eyes bulging to the sound of claxons. Classy but cute, I think. I offer to do it myself. It is, after all, a tricky business to get that mike into po-zish.

And they run VT and Im being talked to like they do on the telly!

"Look mum, its me....." I think to myself.

And I manage to get through it using words I normally tongue tie over.

And I am a little nervous but not overly cacking it.

I am displaying Basic Grey layouts from a made up kit to look like I was supposed to be helping to sell it.

It all goes well.

I don't die.

I don't eff it up.

But my cheeks start to burn although I do think it was from relief.

And then it all ends.

And I get the feedback from the gallery saying "a-ok".

And they present me with a copy of the VT.

(watched it later that night and as a result its nil by mouth forever. The camera is not forgiving infact its a nasty little sod and it adds a million pounds although my skin looked fabulous. Have to say that QVC is not HD but will be soon so then my skin will look relatively cack).

Afterwards I meet Clare who had previously had her screen test and successfully passed.

And then we hail a cab to Harrods to meet Dawn and JJ for a celebratory coyk and then back to QVC to help set up craft hour and watch a live show.

God did we have such a scream doing that. We had approximately 45 seconds to whip up 10 cards although really we had longer but it felt like it. I got to play with the melt pot which I LOVED IMMEDIATELY and would so use again. We also got to go to the gallery to see how everything comes together and I was fascinated. You can see how many callers were ringing and how fast the products sell out which they mostly do. Dawns show is a very popular show and she has an army of crafters who just adore their craft. Horses for courses and judgling by the massive cardstock pack at the begining of the show, Im not suprised those little gems sold out.

After the show we went out for a lovely meal on Fulham road then back to our hotel to watch the VT on our complimentry Mac computers in the room (tres swish). I can totally recommend the City Inn at westminster for a night in London.

The next day Clare and I lounged in our room and woke up looking incredibly stunning for our jaunt around Covent garden. As well pulled up to a nice little eatery I saw JK Rowling at a table near by and almost died on the spot. She is just such a heroine to all her readers, more than Harry Potter himself. I admire her and the need for privacy so we didnt bother her whilst she was eating lunch. I did take a picture of her from afar (ive masked out the face of her daughter here) and whilst it was tempting to flog the picture to Heat magazine for like 16 million pounds, I thought better of it.

Clare has "chipped teeth!".

And lastly.

My man.

The hunter gatherer.

In pink.

Started his new job on Monday.

Hooray.

Its just me and the dog from now on at home all day.

Belle is my Mommas for two weeks then her nanna's for one week.

Time to do some much catching uppy.

The end.

For Mum

My lubbly Momma is 60 today.

and I absolutely cannot wait for her party on Saturday so I can see if she looks like your average pensioner! I know she reads my blog every day so I wanted her to wake up with a mahoosive greeting.

Have a great day me old china and I'll ring you tomorrow afternoon xx

I can't cope

Ive just noticed that BG have released 5 collections.

FIVE?

Swoon.

After severely licking the screen for a coupla minutes (and suffering with static shock in the process) I was overcome with emotion.
Seriously, I only thought they were bringing out Euphoria.
Shows how much I know about anything and that is clearly not enough!
Im sure most of you know that they had 5 newbies but I have been a little pre-occupied these last few weeks to even care about new CHA releases.

As this is a fleeting blogpost I just wanted to tell you that both Clare and I passed our screen test for QVC on Friday. Don't ask how I managed to stop myself from crumbling (considering I was under the most darkest spells cast at me that day due to VIRGIN CRAP TRAVEL) but I got through it. Afterwards we met Dawn and JJ who were preparing for a 2 hour craft show that night and Dawn very kindly they asked us to stick around to watch. Unbeknown to us the camera panned around on Clare and I mid show. I had no flaming idea that was going to happen and all I could manage was a wave and then I subsequently died.

Im going to upload all my pictures later but I felt quite the urge to pronounce my love for the new BG. God bless her and all who scrap with her.

Online, delivered

Last year I mentioned that I was going to start an online class understanding the principles of design. Well, clearly, that never started because time was not on my side and it never seems to be neither.

BUT.

I have been badgered into considering it again and thus forcing myself to make time (= lose sleep....hee hee).

Seriously though, its a class concept that brings art, in all forms, together; with scrap booking, cardmaking and photography being the three main interests I love.

Although design principles have been around for centuries and used by great people such as Archimedes to Monet to Michaelangelo to Brunel to Hollywood, design principles are used to bring focus and detail with balance. It allows you give weight to your scrapping/cardmaking/photography. They are proven theories that are the base coat to all pleasing pieces of art/architecture/photography.

And I'd like to share those with you - to help you understand how you can trust white space, balance and detail. I don't claim to be the font of all knowledge but I do understand these principles completely and this is why I find photography and scrap booking so enjoyable.

Simply entitled Principles, I will be starting an online course coupled with input from two of my favourite photographers and Scrap bookers - Anita Mundt and Mary-Ann Hawes. They will also provide input into these theories too.

The course will be delivered to your inbox every Sunday including images of scrap pages, cards and photographs using the topical principle subject for that week plus a link to a private forum to discuss the ins and outs and share information if you need help.

This course will be your bible to understanding design principles such as:

* Rule of Thirds

* Continuance

* Radial symmetry

* Asymmetry

The 6 week course is an investment priced at £20.

If you wish to register an interest, please email me here.

I will then contact you accordingly.

**I leave tomorrow for London. I finally have my screen test with QVC for Design Objectives. I am not as nervous as I thought I might be but then Dawn did give me some majorly expert advice about not swearing/saying "erm"/moving fast/burping etc. Clare and I have plans for wasting time doing this and that and luckily we have been invited to watch a live show on the Friday night. Fingers crossed the camera does not pan on to either of us becuase I might just break out into song and wave to my mum!

I just can't get enough

......of these flower shapes (you can download a template of it in a few posts below this one).

Will I ever get sick of flowers?

No.

Will you get sick of flowers?

Probably.

My pages, my flowers, my girl.

Happy bunny, me.

This was made for a challenge over at Creativity Life (although its not yet appeared there so you can see it here in the mean time). I love BG Sultry rub on's, they fill a little corner for next to no money and of course making the most of core'dinations cardstock for accents makes this a relatively cheapo page to make. And also lots of left overs for many more layouts.

Ive also made a few more layouts on the ideas gallery if you wanna have a peek over here. A case of severe BG overload although I am loving every inch of it :)

And today I had a lovely visitor. Whilst mark spent 5 hours trying to install a new router (don't ask, cos he is in one hell of a crap mood right now!), I entertained my old sergeant from my RAF days. Lee is one of my treasured colleagues from, dare I say, it 16 years ago.

Holy crap, that sounds ridiculous.

Im too young to be able to have freinds from that long ago.

Say its not true.

I just love her even though she made my life hell at times (she knows this and we do laugh about it, erm - NOW!). That's the thing about forces life; the respect you show for your superiors really does have an effect on friendship in later life. I completely respect and admire her as much now as I did then. She came armed with the BEST Indian food which she makes from scratch including her special tandoori paste for our tea tonight. She also brought Belle her favourite potato Far Far's of which was immediately cooked upon their departure. In return for our tea I made her a few cards to take back and we all played in my room and got crafty.

I wanted so badly to take a photo of her because the last one I got was at my wedding 13 years ago and of course she could have a copy too out of the bargain. And there is no pretence in the integrity of that hug. Lee ADORES her daughter Victoria who she has brought up with impeccable manners.My old sergeant is still the old Lee who I loved/cursed on a daily basis and with that great lady what you see is what you get... and I love there is no messing with her! She tells it like it is and more! It makes me laugh to think she is so feisty and yet so lovely. I love to hear about her lovely family of whom she is close to all her sisters and their religion which totally inspires me. I think Hinduism is the most happiest religion on this planet but then that is down to a matter of choice and belief.

It broke my heart when she left but I'm certain we are going to catch up again in August.

I love bullet points

* They are short, concise and straight to the point

* They help shortlist a big list and saves time and energy

* They looks purdy

* I was going to bullet point this entry but in the end, it turned out to be a short excerpt from War and Peace.

From the moment I left home last Tues to the day I got back (yest) a ton of things happened. 99% of the stuff that did happen was lovely. There were no plans of sorts, just a suck it and see type of scenario. I can only but semi bullet the events and I would hate to not catalogue them because I don't want to forget. I see this blog as a blessing as being my online, digital scrapbook. I just clicked back to this time last year and it was an emotional time for belle and I. How weird that yesterday echoed similar feelings.

Hey ho.

Tues

I tootled down to Traci's house in Thrapston by car. Its a 2.5 hour journey and I listened to Coldplay all the way there. I was that engrossed I ended up in Graffam Water which was waaaaay past where I needed to turn off. But I got to her house eventch and we picked up where we left off. Because that's what friends do. And I love her so much because she is so energetic and fun. But I worry about her because she works so hard and absolutely does not get the recognition she deserves. I feel that one day she will :)

All good things.........................

Weds

I caught the train from Kettering to Landan Tarn. I literally got to the station with moments to spare. As I went to pay for my tickets we heard an announcement over the tannoy to explain that my train was running 29 minutes late. Mmmm, what a shocker! So Traci and I decided to take it easy to my platform. And we looked over at my platform and there was a train sat right there. And it was my train. Because East Midlands Trains announcers are great fat liars, it seems. So we ran like hell fire up the stairs, over the bridge and down the stairs. But it all felt like slow motion and I could feel myself shouting "nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" (like they do in movies in really really really slow motion). My arm reached out to touch the train because it was right there. It had to wait for me. I needed that train. B*asts. The doors closed just as I approached it and the sniggering guard almost got a thump on the nose for his piggerness.

Dammit.

My legs were like jelly and I knew that my train ticket was invalid now because that train was reserved for my ass. What I had to do was pray that the next train would be conductor free and that i could snag a free ride, in effect.

And it was. . How I prayed to the lord for that nugget of good luckness.

And the best thing was I talked to this amazing woman all the way to St Pancras.

I hate to boast but I always meet the best people on a train.

I love to talk and share views and opinions with complete strangers.

It turns out she is a yoga therapist en route to San Francisco and who lives in a converted factory - all open plan and super duper. I just wanted to be her - she was that fantastic.

So anyway.

St Pancras is a bit special.

All new and shiny and full of the most fabulous boutiques and shops.

But I couldn't stay.

I had to head to my fake fabulous hotel which stood tall and proud in one of the most poshest parts of London.

Eaton Gate stands between Sloane square and Eaton Park (quite very near Buck house).

I hailed a cab from Sloane Square tube and asked him to wizz me to my fake fabulous hotel. He asked if I was sure and I was like "yes, for I am important and in London". Everyone knows that when you are in London you are important.

There is an air of mystery about oneself when one is in London.

And I was wearing a suit jacket so therefore I could have been an executive from Coutts Bank or even a super model (obviously one that wears a fat suit to hide her thin frame).

But he had the last laugh as I was in the taxi for approximately 3 seconds because our fake fabulous hotel was literally 3 seconds from Sloane Square.

No matter, I chucked him a tip for being the usual cheeky chappy taxi driver whom I did not get to ask if he had been busy or indeed near the end of his shift. And whenever I am in London and of course being important, I like to ask if the taxi driver uses the term "Cor Lummy". But that joke is between my sister and I. Although to be fair one taxi driver once said, in response to that "Ere, do you think my name is Dick Van Dyke?". Oh, how my sister and I laughed for days.

So I haul my luggage up the fake fabulous hotel steps and ring the bell. A polish girl answers the door and says "Yeeeeeeeeeeeees".

Holy crap, is this really a fake fabulous hotel or the hammer house of horrors?

I explained I was booked in and she allowed me to enter. I had to fill in forms and then she took me up a rickety lift from the golden ages to my room on the top floor. Oh how I was dying to have a shower and cup of tea on my arrival. But Hmmm, no kettle and no electricity. Well, there was a Tv but even that was attached to a dymo machine and 15 rats were running on a miniature conveyor belt to help fire it up. One had the feeling one was not important anymore but cinder-freakin-ella.

Note our decadent polystyrene ceiling tiles complete with stains and dust? Try not to envy my grey (once white) canopy above the bed and in the reflection of my mirrored wardrobe doors, a quaint little picture of a dufex based swiss cottage on the side of a mountain.

Clare and I loved the random pieces of wood strewn about the room and bathroom.

I was impressed with the stain effect wall paper they had. But you have to laugh, our fake fabulous hotel was just hilarious!

The room was a trifle stifled so I whipped off my skirt to aerate before I took a little lie down on the bed. I decided to open the window which was knee high and thought "hmmm, I'm on the top floor, nobody is going to notice me opening a window in just my t shirt and grundies".

Wrong.

Our fake fabulous hotel was right opposite probably the most poshest private school in the entire world and quite possibly one of those poor kids got to see my hideous behind. Charming thought, really. So anyway, I took a little lay on the bed and rang Clare who actually was already there and right next door. And she presents me with a lovely card and some delish wrapping paper from Paperchase. I know you know how much that means to me. Paperchase sell the best wrapping paper of which I covet and adore from a distance.

We chatted and then got ready for the Lanesborough Afternoon Tea date we had. We took a taxi to be met with men in grey top hats and tails who escorted us out of our hackney into the poshest hotel ever. Apparently its the only hotel that Madonna uses but then why would she, she lives in London. Perhaps she goes there if she has had a little fall out with Guy. Or maybe she uses it because she is mega loaded and can afford the measly £7500 a night suites. Hells bells. I could buy a car with that. Or 10,000 sheets of Basic Grey. Hmmmmmm.

So we walk in and are seated and look at the menu and decide to order the champagne menu which includes strawbs and cream as well as champagne and finger butties and coyks (coyks are cakes but said in a cockney accent). And we thought we would be brilliant and order the Lanesboroughs special blend tea which tasted bloody awful in all honesty. But the coyks were scrumpsh even though this one looked like it was grown in a nuclear processing plant - is anything naturally that green?

And you see the cake on the top tier with gold leaf? Well we didn't know if you ought to have eaten it or not but we did and we are still here to tell the tale. It tasted a bit icky, if the truth be told.We even had a coyk that was minty fresh (its tucked behind the illuminous green number). Now, when you eat things that are minty they taste like a sweetened mint. But god no. Not this little bugger. It tasted like you had just put real fresh peppermint leaf in your mouth combined with a biscuity base and a cream paste that again, tasted really proper minty. Both Clare and I gagged and would have even accepted some Colgate on a rich tea biscuit in lieu of. That little treat is something you ought to serve to your mother in law. Its best avoided if one is to venture there, quite by our recommendation of course. And then when we had polished off the entire three tiers of lard, out came crumpets and scones. Ive never eaten cold crumpets before but I managed to stuff it on whole with raspberry jam.

Clare and I pretended to be kajillionaires by crooking our fingers and gently wiping the corners of our mouths between bites (I even, at one point and even only for a milli second, lifted my nose in the air (as in being posh and also to see if the air smelled sweeter when you did). But it didn't. And Clare only ruined it by passing me a tissue saying that there were some nasties up there that needed evacuating). We scanned the room and dissected each guest there wondering what kind of person they would be and would they be common northerners like us. Beneath where we situated was an Arab family. We had exchanged pleasant smiles throughout our stay and we decided they were royalty and we were probably right when their platinum Amex card was flashed when they paid their bill. Our whole reality was smacked right in the face when Clare replicated their payment method. Only because it just didn't have the desired effect of flashyness when she presented her Abbey National Visa card. In fact, it signalled the end of our "lady what lunches" pretence. But we shall never forget the entire experience for as long as there is Coyk.

Just as we were about to Leave, Dawn and JJ arrived and we went to sit in the Lanesboroughs uber posh bar that can only be described as a red leathered gentlemans room. It was so posh that the free nibbles they served were displayed on a real silver, three tiered miniature cake stand. They invited us to drink some pink champagne and it rounded off our afternoon a real treat. For the record, these two people are generous beyond a fault and are two of the most nicest people in the crafting industry to enjoy time (and mucky jokes) with.

We all then took a trip to Harrods - come on, the sales were on!

We eventually ended up in the perfumery where this incredibly fabulous guy wafted and spritzed us and gave us all our own personal smellometer test. This helped determine our likes and dislikes of sweet/flowery/herby/mechanical grease perfumes. The whole time we were there he gave us the most bizarre rendition of his personal life coupled with his perfume genius. I was just agog. I mean, like - eyes popping right out of their shell. I just wanted to pick him up and put him in my pocket. My regret is that I didn't take a picture of him. But he had done his job properly as I ended up buying some rather deeeelish perfume by Herve Leger. Its a bit gorgeous. Clare bought one of my all time favourite perfumes - Shalimar by Guerlain. Its a classic, die hard perfume and everyone always asks me what I'm wearing when I wear it.

We rounded the day off by struggling with hotel envy at Dawns hotel and a burger supper. I couldn't possibly divulge Clares magic knickers story but let me tell you this. I am permanently damaged through bladder dysfunction from too much laughter. Seriously, who performs surgery on bladder problems on the black market (you know how much I despise the NHS).

It was then back to our fake fabulous hotel and feel our way in the dark through lack of electricity and up early for the day at QVC's Make and Take event at the QEII centre at Westminster.

You will have to wait for the next installment because the skin on my finger tips are bleeding from all this typing.

I got over it

The moment has passed now.

Thanks for hearing me out.

Just a bad day from the start I guess.

Although, to be fair, I did have a couple of happy injections including a call from Dyan who I do not get to speak to a great deal as she is majestically being brilliant every day. That was the call of the century that I got from her today. She is the undo-er of all evil and the spreader of all inspiration. We all have a creative godess we look up to and she is her.

We also got Ellies school report today.

And whilst the state can't make their minds up about just how dark the grey area she falls into, it's her teachers that colour our world. You see, Ellie works to a very low level and that's not so "cool" for her age. But that does not matter. I struggled majorly at school and if its wasn't for the wisdom and charm of my wonderful English teacher who saw magic in my imagination, I would have slinked into obscurity.

Anyway.

On every single page, each teacher delighted in portions of Ellies best work and concluded that she always tries her hardest and is the most polite and well behaved child in the whole class - in every class.

So you see, that report undid the anger in roughly 5 minutes flat.

And the wound in my chest is gone because my little heart is beating in the most flutteriest of manners - like any proud Momma.

And I have little stinging tears in my eyes again because little belle is such a fighter and that takes precedence over any medical hardships, doesn't it?

And my favourite comment from her Geography teacher goes on to explain that Ellie is more concerned, at times, for the welfare of others and is often going up to other children to see how they are feeling. Sniff sniff.

I wonder if she picked that up from me?

I always want other people to have a good time and know they are well. It sets the mood for the day as other peoples behaviour affects my behaviour. I like to think its a good trait.

Here are some pictures I took last week as she completed her homework in my office. Her handwriting is pretty poor but the teachers can read it much better now. And yes, the ruby rose bud lips are on fine form and lucky me - I get to pucker up to those little sugary suckers every single day.

Sweet.

Its all or nothing in this house

Im home.
Dog went mental.
Loved it!
Then Ellie came home.
And she went mental.
Loved it!
Between being licked to death by Eddy the mad "I chew absolutely everything" dachshund and Belle getting in from School I opened a letter addressed to Mark and I.
It was from the Doctor (in Wigan) who told me in January that, with Belle - "what you see is what you get".
That drove me beserk.
Infact I almost had a bloody breakdown.
Anyway, this new letter (from the Doctor in Wigan) was in response to a heart appointment we had in Alderhey a few weeks back and even that appointment was in response to the excellent care we received in the US.
And this Doctor (in Wigan) now sends us an email and claims he thinks Ellie has symptoms of Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome Type 6.
So you can imagine that I run straight to the PC and look it up. And classic signs of this is a prolapsed mitric valve (which she has) and other stuff (which she has).
Now I don't actually think for sure she has it because, as you know, we have been fed a lot of bull over the last 12 years. But Im losing the ability to take my next breath because Im just about sick and fed up of it all.
I really am.
As I am typing now my eyes are just about to lose their vision through tears and Ive got that pain in my chest where it feels like a nuclear bomb has exploded and subsequently ripped out my heart.
You really would think I'd be jumping for joy, though, wouldn't you?
But I am not.
I just can't believe this doctor wrote us off in January and then, on the strength of the hard work the US doctors put into researching Ellies problems, he types a letter as nice as you like and mask himself as being the saviour to the whole story.
Am I wrong to think like this?
Perhaps 12 years of faffing about has just pushed me over the bloody edge.

No matter what.
Belle is Belle and we know and love her as our extraordinary little girl who fills us up with so much emotion and love. Its incredibly difficult to convey just the right words that would convince you of how much we adore that little creature. So regardless of whether she has a syndrome or not - that kid has been put on this earth for a reason and soon enough even you will understand that too.