Two months - that's how long I've been 'resting' and 'taking time out' from contracting. It feels far longer.
I'm also at a loss to understand what I have done with those two months. Apart from worry about Joe. And help Stu make a fence. Built a website. Browsed Iceland websites. And have a tattoo. Oops. Just casually threw that in there. Yep. I finally plucked up the courage. I am now the proud owner of a sore arm. Which I am fastidiously bathing in warm soapy water and moisturising regularly. I have pondered the idea of a tattoo for years. This was no snap decision. I decided on what I wanted years ago. A bluebell. For very personal reasons. Anyway. It's done. In a place that can be hidden for work. Though it did dawn on me in the middle of the night that I can never work in the summer again. As clearly short sleeves won't work! You'd have thought that I would have thought of this before - given the length of time I have been working the idea through in my obviously cottonwool brain. But - I've done it. And I am not going to be ashamed or worried about people seeing it. I am going to own my arm. I've come out of the tattoo closet. And here it is... (looks WAY larger than it is in real life)
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The plastic whale - seen it? It's awful. Intestines full of plastic preventing it from feeding. So it died. And we did that. Facebook is full of horror stories and advice. I for one always carry a Paperchase shopping bag with me - so I can refuse the 5p plastic bag when I shop. And I know a lot of people do similar. And we're advised to stop buying single use plastics - bottled water being one and straws another. So we're all pottering around to the gym etc with our water flasks and refusing straws with our cocktails (anyone who knows me well will know I do neither of those things - gym or cocktails). And then came the Facebook post about the dangers that lurk in your environmentally friendly water flask. Yep. You heard it here second. Apparently - they harbour germs. Lots of them. So you might as well lick the toilet bowl apparently. The germs mainly gather around the spout bit. Where you drink from. Because apparently we're all dirty buggers and don't clean them out properly. So the advice given on this post? This...(oh the irony) Drink from a single use bottle with a straw.
Sod the bloody germs. I am going to do my part to save those darned whales! Rant two - packaging Yesterday I popped into Holland and Barrett to buy some Vit D. So apart from the hefty price (Boots is far cheaper), the packaging was ridiculous. The plastic bottle was huge - not even one-fifth full. Why not reduce the size? Or package in something more env. friendly? Here's an idea - remember the old sweet shops - where you could buy a quarter of cop-cops in a paper bag?... "I'll have a quarter of Vit D and half a pound of Vit C with zinc please..." And finally - Trafford Council Recently our council have changed the rules about our full-size green wheelie bins. Instead of a weekly collection of food and garden waste they have decided they won't take your garden waste anymore - unless you pay an annual fee of £40 (approx. - can't remember the exact amount!). So...if you don't pay - they come weekly and empty that tiny bit of food waste that is at the bottom of the the bin. And if you do pay - you get a sticker. Which you have to write your address on and stick on the lid of your huge green wheelie bin - which, in our case, sits in the entry (ginnel, snicket, vennel, wynd, twitten) behind the house along with all the neighbour's. So - we now have a sticker. Highly visible to any neighbour who chose not to pay and who could well decide to dump their garden waste into our bin. And woe betide anyone who puts garden waste in the bin and who hasn't paid. The bin won't be emptied...so all that food waste will simply stay there and attract flies. The council advice for those who have garden waste but don't want to pay to have it removed? Take it to the local tip. What I hadn't considered (and not entirely sure the council did either) is those on low incomes (etc.) who can't afford the £40 and who don't drive. What do they do? In a recent case - one such person was advised by a council rep to buy one of their compost bins for her grass cuttings. Two things here - grass cuttings don't compost well on their own...and 'buy' a compost bin? Like with money? That she doesn't have? Jesus. I give up. Conclusion The world has indeed gone mad. Have I written a post about the effects of being 50?
As I am over 50 now...I don't trust my memory. So I can only apologise if I am repeating myself. Seriously though. WTF? Why does IT conspire against anyone over the age of 50? I can no longer type letters in the right order. My iPhone autocorrects to the most bizarre words. And I have gone from being relatively IT literate to...well almost as bad as my Mother! And the memory thing. The thing I hate most...is that 'glazed-over' expression people get. When it suddenly dawns on you that you've told them this thing before. My pal Mandy-Lee has the best solution. She butts in really quickly. And lets me know she's heard it before. Of course if anyone other than close friends or family did that to me I'd be mortified. Caught in the act of...acting my age. This post is going nowhere. As I have clearly forgotten the point. FFS. (I am not yet at the age of forgetting all my passwords. Anyone got any idea when that happens? I don't want to wake up one day and they've all gone from my mind! I need some forewarning) Here's to being another year closer to 60. Today's photo: me before the age of social media, iPhone's, laptops, Apple music, CDs and when motorbikes were built like sofas. And when I clearly didn't give a crap about having a double chin. And I drank tea from a really scummy looking roadside cafe. I'm enjoying my pretend retirement far too much. If I could just find a way to make money appear out of nowhere...
I've just ruined that moment for myself as, for some reason, my brain just chose right now to remind me that I need to do my self-assessment tax for last year. Thanks a bunch brain. Probably the mention of making money appear out of nowhere. That was the trigger. Let's put that little irritating thought to one side. This week was my first Rock the Frock shoot. A full on day of hair, make-up and trying to 'find the light' on Dunham park and amongst some very old gravestones in Bowdon. The light. So darned troublesome. Dappled light through the trees. Looks gorgeous in real life. Then when you view the images on the big screen you realise that the model's face is completely washed out and over-exposed. Or as the trees swayed at precisely the wrong moment - all in the shade apart from the nose. I did learn a lot. And loved every minute. My next shoot is booked in for September. This time we're hoping to head to Formby beach. My fingers are crossed for the perfect weather, a sunset and low-tide. Not too much to ask? Next time I am going to do my best to keep the model awake... I'm a tad grumpy.
I have a cold. In summer. While I am taking time off. So instead of taking long walks I have been Netflixing. And sneezing. And sweating. And sleeping. And my bloody photography website has decided to disappear off the bloody web thing. And I have just spent an hour trying to get my head around the dark art of advanced DNS settings and DNS types and destinations and christ knows what. And to make it worse...I probably won't know for 'up to 24 hours' if I have done it wrong. Basically I feel like shit. But on the up-side everybody's birthdays are this week. So I have a fancy dress party to go to and a Sunday afternoon BBQ / buffet (weather dependent) to host. With a stinking cold. And while we're on the subject of weather (don't split hairs..it got a mention)...what the crap is going on there? Firstly, we've been promised storms several times over the past couple of weeks - and we've had precisely two claps of thunder. And then the showers. From gorgeous blue skies - washing on the line - to seconds after the last peg is applied...the heavens open. Of course...once you have rescued the washing...dumped it in the drier...and sat back down to Neflix....the sun is out again. In it's full glory. Give me snow. At least in the winter I don't ever kid myself that the washing is going to be line-dried. On a completely different subject. It is confirmed that Tilly (Border Collie no.2) hates my singing. She is fine with anything professionally recorded and played through the Sonos. But as soon as I start to sing...she howls. Whilst I'd like to think she's joining in...I suspect that she is actually just extremely stressed and distressed. I don't have many photos on the MacBook. As for some reason my Photos are not linking to my Photos on the iMac. That little issue is for another day's Google. But as there are no photos on here...today we simply get to see this...my box of snot rags. |
DebbieMe, my life, my family and my travels Archives
November 2022
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