Cakes and horse brasses....

Well first of all, I just wanted to say Wooooooooooyeah!!!!!
Thanks so much for all of your comments; I didn't realise so many of the old YAYW "crew" were on here! Hey, get me with my "crew"! Move over Dizzy Rascal - I'm sooooo street with all my lingo.
(Note to self - you are not and never will be cool. Your nan is more "street" than you. You live in a village, attend fetes and bake. I can't exactly see Westwood, Kanye, Usher and Beyonce turning up in your "hood". In fact, the only hood you are familiar with is the one on your gardening cagoul.)
I am sooooo chuffed that so many of you are still bumping along with me and sending the old voodoo vibes ST's way. I found out yesterday from my mate who is his mate's girlfriend that not only did he lie and say he was only going away with a couple of mates for a "quiet weekend" but he has in actual fact gone away in a huge group of lads who have already been posting their antics on facebook whilst away. I know he has been involved in a game called "winehands" where they tape bottles of wine to each other's palms and a game called "wheelbarrowing". I am therefore going to be strapping on my hiking boots and grabbing my nordic walking poles to march up there to the very top of the moral high ground for when he gets back.
I don't know how he has the cheek to lie and try and make out like he's so stressed he needs a quiet weekend away and then bugger off for a week of debauchery in the sun. He really is a toad.

I spent most of yesterday packing up the remainer of his stuff that I found in the loft. I resisted the urge to smash all of his rugby trophies and crystal and silverware that he'd won over the years (and only because I knew people like his Granny would be really upset about stuff like that) but I did tear up his signed photo of him with Dan Carter and Johnny Wilkinson. I also drew a moustache on the photo of him holding the rugby world cup. I am hoping that this does not make me look like a psycho but I have no doubt that he will use this against me in the future. Oh hell, who cares what that hideous, lying worm thinks.
He's meant to be coming to collect his stuff this week but I'm thinking of not being there as I just don't want loads of feelings being raked up again. Reckon I might just ask my Dad, my brother or my mum to be there; it might do him good as not one of them has seen him to speak to since he left me so it might do him good to have to "face the music". (In fact, my mum is unlikely to make any music for him to face; she is more likely to kick him in the trumpet.)

TB has also been telling me that I need to start thinking the worst about ST as he says I still believe him when he tells me stuff and then get my knickers in the proverbial knot when he doesn't do what he says. (Actually, my knickers become so knotted that they could be used as a training aid for boy scouts. Oh dear, scrub that last comment - it sounded a little unsavoury.)
Spent most of the weekend with my lovely trainer boy actually. After the crab cake belching championships on Saturday night, he took me to his 2 year old nephew's birthday party yesterday. I arrived laden down with a hundredweight of baking and ended up swilling a gallon of rose and generally being unsuitably drunk in the middle of the day. TB reckoned his family loved me though. His sister was eternally grateful for me having basically catered the party for her (she only had a baby 5 weeks ago and is run off her feet). I also had TB buy her a Jo Malone candle for when everyone had gone home so that she could relax and unwind.
I should like to impart a piece of wisdom here for everyone though... Do not attempt to ride a minature wooden rocking "motorcycle" after downing the best part of two bottles of wine and whilst holding a wedge of chocolate cake. The results are less than pretty and are not environmentally friendly due to the sheer volume of kitchen roll they entail. I am also not sure if my top is permanently stained and whether or not TB's sister's bush will ever fully recover.

TB and I then went for a walk around a local reservoir to sober me up when I got back and I spent a happy hour feeding ducks and being chased by swans. TB thought it was highly amusing that I was pursued by a massive squawking bird, especially as the combination of drunkeness and a steep embankment do not make for perfect conditions for a speedy escape. I cooked for him in the evening and we spent the rest of the last evening of my holidays looking for properties for me on "Rightmove".

I went to view two today but, unless I suddenly shrink to the size of one of the "Borrowers", I'm not sure they're the right houses for me. They'd be OK for dwarves, pixies and elves but for normal sized humans they're a little claustrophobic. In fact, if I was a veal calf then I'm sure there'd be some sort of EU regulation preventing me from being cooped up in them for more than 2 hours at a time.

I went to view them after the most boring training day on earth. We had some guest speaker banging on about something that was so outdated and old hat that Noah himself would have come out and complained about the lack of up to date ideas. It didn't help that I got an attack of the giggles about the phrase "polishing your horse brasses" in the middle of it all. I was actually sent out by my head to compose myself on the pretence that I was making tea for everyone but just spent a good ten minutes sobbing hysterical tears of laughter over the urn. I reckon I'm still delirious from my Hollywood pain.

Am just off to the pub now to see my mate to give her some moral support as she started her new job as a deputy in a neighbouring village today. So, back to talking shop again I guess.

Anyway, thanks so much for all your support. It's so nice to know that I have so many friends out there cause it's bloomin lonely on my little road sometimes.

Will update you as to ST's explanation of his lies regarding his holiday as soon as I hear from him; although you probably won't need me to write it as my explosion is likely to rival the fireworks from the Beijing Olympics opening ceremony.

Lots of love to you all in the meantime though.

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P.S 107 is an odd number, hmmmmmmmmmm, must think about evening things out a bit in the shoe department. Hee hee!!

Oh, and if anyone knows how LailaC from YAYW got on this summer with her wedding I'd love to know. Lost her e-mail address as accidentally deleted my contacts. Was thinking of her all over the holidays and praying for good weather and a beautiful day for her. If you read this Laila - lots of love to you and your new husband. Congrats. XXXXXXXXX