When all the dark clouds roll away
And the sun begins to shine
I see my freedom from across the way
And it comes right in on time
Well it shines so bright, and gives so much light
And it comes from the sky above
Makes me feel so free, makes me feel like me
And lights my life with love
And it seems like and feels like a Brand New Day
Tuesday, 30 March 2010
I Miss....
I MISS....
Being young and unsure.
Sitting on the the bus stop at 04.30 am waiting for the Shift Bus.
Dipping my feet in a clear, beautiful sea at 5 am
Pushing my toes in the sand.
Cold water on warm skin.
Starting the boat, smell of petrol, just me all alone.
Sweet, calm, quiet sea.
Orange juice when I am thirsty
The smell of AV gas.
Climbing up the plane steps.
The ping, ping as we take off and land, the thrill of doing so.
Heat haze on the runway.
Stepping out into a warm, strange smelling environment.
The first breath of a new and exciting place.
It never changes....
Being young and unsure.
Sitting on the the bus stop at 04.30 am waiting for the Shift Bus.
Dipping my feet in a clear, beautiful sea at 5 am
Pushing my toes in the sand.
Cold water on warm skin.
Starting the boat, smell of petrol, just me all alone.
Sweet, calm, quiet sea.
Orange juice when I am thirsty
The smell of AV gas.
Climbing up the plane steps.
The ping, ping as we take off and land, the thrill of doing so.
Heat haze on the runway.
Stepping out into a warm, strange smelling environment.
The first breath of a new and exciting place.
It never changes....
Saturday, 27 March 2010
Blogs of Note and Angst!
It is late or should that be early and I should be in bed. I have been catching up with the 'Blogs of Note' on Blogger, which I have neglected over the past couple of weeks. Blogger publishes three Blogs of Note a day and I have to say most of them are what I call 'Magazine Blogs'. Beautifully photographed, able to get their point across but literary...nope! I would not describe my Blog as literary either as it is too personal and Blogger readers would perhaps not understand it's content unless they started at the beginning. An heroic task to ask of anyone.
The thing is, despite my humble little Blog, I yearn to make The Blog of Note....Imagine 15,000 or more hits a day. I Blog online because it does me good and I cannot write with a pen for more than a few words. I would be lying if I said I wasn't bothered about the three 'chosen ones' per day. I want it...sooo, bad. Ain't going to happen. Doesn't stop me striving though!
I was really pleased with my last Blog and went off to bed quite happy. I woke up the next morning, re-read it and decided that I sounded like Enid-Bloody-Blyton! Yuck!! I think the only saving grace on my Blog at the moment is the flipping side bars. Oh and most of them are not my words.
I was talking to an old friend tonight (he is only old in the spirit of friendship and very young at heart) and has recently returned from a tour of India with Breathe, a Pink Floyd tribute band. We were talking about his trip and whilst he was trying to explain what a blast it was, I could not quite grasp that. I could not see (in words) what a shining moment in time it was.
He has a secret weapon and has created a Video Blog. He said that writing a Blog was different as I could edit and perfect it. His Video Blog is snatched moments on tour with little or no editing. I am looking forward to seeing it on FB and will post links to you all.
What he does not realise is the amount of angst (even with the sanitised Donut Child) that go into writing a Blog. I have previously written in suede bound journals. Creamy paper and no scribbles. Every word, thoughtful and honest and PRIVATE. It is so much easier when you can write with integrity, under your own steam. I guess I could have kept this as a 'Locked Blog' and carried on writing in that way. However, I am trying to learn a discipline and only the fire of sharing will help me with that.
Wish Me Luck
Muse x
The thing is, despite my humble little Blog, I yearn to make The Blog of Note....Imagine 15,000 or more hits a day. I Blog online because it does me good and I cannot write with a pen for more than a few words. I would be lying if I said I wasn't bothered about the three 'chosen ones' per day. I want it...sooo, bad. Ain't going to happen. Doesn't stop me striving though!
I was really pleased with my last Blog and went off to bed quite happy. I woke up the next morning, re-read it and decided that I sounded like Enid-Bloody-Blyton! Yuck!! I think the only saving grace on my Blog at the moment is the flipping side bars. Oh and most of them are not my words.
I was talking to an old friend tonight (he is only old in the spirit of friendship and very young at heart) and has recently returned from a tour of India with Breathe, a Pink Floyd tribute band. We were talking about his trip and whilst he was trying to explain what a blast it was, I could not quite grasp that. I could not see (in words) what a shining moment in time it was.
He has a secret weapon and has created a Video Blog. He said that writing a Blog was different as I could edit and perfect it. His Video Blog is snatched moments on tour with little or no editing. I am looking forward to seeing it on FB and will post links to you all.
What he does not realise is the amount of angst (even with the sanitised Donut Child) that go into writing a Blog. I have previously written in suede bound journals. Creamy paper and no scribbles. Every word, thoughtful and honest and PRIVATE. It is so much easier when you can write with integrity, under your own steam. I guess I could have kept this as a 'Locked Blog' and carried on writing in that way. However, I am trying to learn a discipline and only the fire of sharing will help me with that.
Wish Me Luck
Muse x
Monday, 22 March 2010
The Strange Habits of the Ascending Donut Child
I have to carry on with the Donut Child/Forces Brat nostalgia thing. I was curious as to why, yet again, I was wandering down the Yellow Brick Road that was our childhood and now I realise, British Summer Time starts next week. Ask any Donut Child and they will all tell you they get wanderlust at this time of year. Bloody hell my feet are horribly itchy and I need some sunshine.
Donut children are a completely different breed from the normal Brit. They display some very strange habits, especially at the start of summer time. These include throwing anything remotely warm in the bin, sorting and grading flip flops in colour/size/longevity and smelliness. The smelliest are always the most favourite. Sniffing the interior of last years suitcase, reminiscences of golden sand and Hawaiian Tropic. I have several sarongs that I stubbornly hang on to as they still smell of suntan oil, despite washing.
An inordinate, unexplained desperation to get to the beach, any beach, doesn't matter how cold the water is, just get there. Roll up jeans, stick feet in freezing water and.......breathe. Ahhhh, that's better. Everything centres, the mind becomes crystal clear (obviously due to sub zero temperatures) and the feet drop off. My ex husband thought I was a complete nightmare as, one sunny spring day, when living in deepest Oxfordshire I got in the car drove a couple of hundred miles through stupid traffic, stuck my feet in the sea, turned around and came back again. It calms us and stops us jumping on the nearest plane to South America. Talking of which, I have done that as well. I was separated from said ex and was made redundant. A phone call was swiftly made to nice people in Indulgence office (see definitions at Words of Wisdom..).The Ex was duly bullied into signing forms and £50 quid and 8 hours later I climbed down the steps of the Tri Star and stepped onto Ascension Island soil.
I have actually gone one further than that....bad, bad mother that I am. I decided that I was fed up with the UK and dragged three children, kicking and screaming over to Spain. Yep! Two suitcases, three kids, no accommodation and a flight to Malaga. "Don't worry mum. its only for a year or so", said I, as she howled down the phone and ordered my long suffering Pa to "Pack the Car for Spain NOW Jimmy!". I had a tenuous grasp of Spanish at the time. Believe me there is nothing like being thrown in at the deep end to improve ones tenuous grasp into a 'rude but understandable' fluency.
Most people in the 'real world' are happy and content to move house a few times and consider that stressful enough. Not good enough for a Donut Child, moving around is our fundamental right!! Having been in a house for two years, I start feeling pretty hemmed in and usually try to stem the tide by buying new rugs and moving furniture. Nah...doesn't work. I look around me and the walls close in, I have to move right now, hence my nomadic lifestyle. I have been in this house for three whole years and am more than ready to move this summer. The only reason I am still here is because I wrecked my arm last year, nothing more. Erm, actually I had to wait for The Git to finish Primary..... Luckily I now live within a 14 mile radius of some of the most beautiful beaches in Cornwall and if I feel bad I can pack child, body board and cool box in car and have my feet in the sea in 35 minutes flat!
As I get older I realise that it becomes harder to do these things and must maintain my thinly veiled disguise of a responsible mum, fighting the urge to jump on nearest AV Gas smelling carrier. But I will never give up! That is what makes us Donut children. Nothing is permanent, we take all that life gives but yearn and search for more. It doesn't matter how old or decrepit we get, we are and remain Donut children!
For All you Restless Souls out there.
Muse x
Donut children are a completely different breed from the normal Brit. They display some very strange habits, especially at the start of summer time. These include throwing anything remotely warm in the bin, sorting and grading flip flops in colour/size/longevity and smelliness. The smelliest are always the most favourite. Sniffing the interior of last years suitcase, reminiscences of golden sand and Hawaiian Tropic. I have several sarongs that I stubbornly hang on to as they still smell of suntan oil, despite washing.
An inordinate, unexplained desperation to get to the beach, any beach, doesn't matter how cold the water is, just get there. Roll up jeans, stick feet in freezing water and.......breathe. Ahhhh, that's better. Everything centres, the mind becomes crystal clear (obviously due to sub zero temperatures) and the feet drop off. My ex husband thought I was a complete nightmare as, one sunny spring day, when living in deepest Oxfordshire I got in the car drove a couple of hundred miles through stupid traffic, stuck my feet in the sea, turned around and came back again. It calms us and stops us jumping on the nearest plane to South America. Talking of which, I have done that as well. I was separated from said ex and was made redundant. A phone call was swiftly made to nice people in Indulgence office (see definitions at Words of Wisdom..).The Ex was duly bullied into signing forms and £50 quid and 8 hours later I climbed down the steps of the Tri Star and stepped onto Ascension Island soil.
I have actually gone one further than that....bad, bad mother that I am. I decided that I was fed up with the UK and dragged three children, kicking and screaming over to Spain. Yep! Two suitcases, three kids, no accommodation and a flight to Malaga. "Don't worry mum. its only for a year or so", said I, as she howled down the phone and ordered my long suffering Pa to "Pack the Car for Spain NOW Jimmy!". I had a tenuous grasp of Spanish at the time. Believe me there is nothing like being thrown in at the deep end to improve ones tenuous grasp into a 'rude but understandable' fluency.
Most people in the 'real world' are happy and content to move house a few times and consider that stressful enough. Not good enough for a Donut Child, moving around is our fundamental right!! Having been in a house for two years, I start feeling pretty hemmed in and usually try to stem the tide by buying new rugs and moving furniture. Nah...doesn't work. I look around me and the walls close in, I have to move right now, hence my nomadic lifestyle. I have been in this house for three whole years and am more than ready to move this summer. The only reason I am still here is because I wrecked my arm last year, nothing more. Erm, actually I had to wait for The Git to finish Primary..... Luckily I now live within a 14 mile radius of some of the most beautiful beaches in Cornwall and if I feel bad I can pack child, body board and cool box in car and have my feet in the sea in 35 minutes flat!
As I get older I realise that it becomes harder to do these things and must maintain my thinly veiled disguise of a responsible mum, fighting the urge to jump on nearest AV Gas smelling carrier. But I will never give up! That is what makes us Donut children. Nothing is permanent, we take all that life gives but yearn and search for more. It doesn't matter how old or decrepit we get, we are and remain Donut children!
For All you Restless Souls out there.
Muse x
Just Musing......
Forgive me for going back once more but I just have to! It is that dating thing again. I have been sick and have had to cancel a weekend date with Mr Hotelier. Am I particularly upset?....Nah, not really. I am only upset about a carefully planned wardrobe, silky hair and the loss of some fun, nothing more.
Mr S thinks my dating days are hilarious. He has most definitely got my number. He knows, I only ever, 'attend and pretend'. Mr S is the only guy who can get under my skin, hence our daily debates. This brings me neatly back to Internet Dating. Being in Cornwall, it is almost impossible to meet a single, eligible man, so I use the Internet. However this 'Cornwall Excuse' is a Big Bugger Off lie. The only thing that attracts me is a similar intellect, travelling, a love of life and the same background as me. No chance of that in Cornwall or on the dating sites or so it seems.
My FB wall has recently been taken over by old friends and old photos that have brought tears to my eyes this week.I have not commented for fear of being a bit emotional. The reason being that a few more old schoolies have joined 'The Dark Side' that is FB. (Note my three Aunts who I fondly call the Welsh Witches have also joined!)
The point of this Blog being, we had such a fantastic early life, how can we possibly cope with the mundanity that has become our daily lives. I suppose we have to but we all have the same take on life, we have the same thoughts and endeavour to repeat the experience. A bit bloody hard in civvy life.
For me...perhaps I should just pause a moment, forget the 'T'internet' dating sites and try (somehow) the old fashioned way. Yeah I can hear Mr S laughing from here....
Seriously though, I think a glance across a crowded room and a lovely smile, or smelling an enchanting perfume or aftershave is probably the best way to go about things. Yeah, I could now get on my little soap box about how males and females smell 'right ' to each other, but that is another Blog entirely.
Time for me to Pause For Thought I think.....
Namaste
Muse xx
Mr S thinks my dating days are hilarious. He has most definitely got my number. He knows, I only ever, 'attend and pretend'. Mr S is the only guy who can get under my skin, hence our daily debates. This brings me neatly back to Internet Dating. Being in Cornwall, it is almost impossible to meet a single, eligible man, so I use the Internet. However this 'Cornwall Excuse' is a Big Bugger Off lie. The only thing that attracts me is a similar intellect, travelling, a love of life and the same background as me. No chance of that in Cornwall or on the dating sites or so it seems.
My FB wall has recently been taken over by old friends and old photos that have brought tears to my eyes this week.I have not commented for fear of being a bit emotional. The reason being that a few more old schoolies have joined 'The Dark Side' that is FB. (Note my three Aunts who I fondly call the Welsh Witches have also joined!)
The point of this Blog being, we had such a fantastic early life, how can we possibly cope with the mundanity that has become our daily lives. I suppose we have to but we all have the same take on life, we have the same thoughts and endeavour to repeat the experience. A bit bloody hard in civvy life.
For me...perhaps I should just pause a moment, forget the 'T'internet' dating sites and try (somehow) the old fashioned way. Yeah I can hear Mr S laughing from here....
Seriously though, I think a glance across a crowded room and a lovely smile, or smelling an enchanting perfume or aftershave is probably the best way to go about things. Yeah, I could now get on my little soap box about how males and females smell 'right ' to each other, but that is another Blog entirely.
Time for me to Pause For Thought I think.....
Namaste
Muse xx
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
Spring has Sprung.....
Spring is here at last and I am horribly stuck in winter mode. Honestly, I cannot even face my high heeled boots and am still slouching around in my dreaded Uggs, most unattractive and smacks of old age! I haven't even had the energy to blog for the last 11 days.....
I had the 'age' conversation with the Hotelier who I saw on Saturday. We had a couple of drinks, a fabulous Chinese meal and a lot of laughs. We went back to the Hotel to drop off the leftovers and have a naughty cig before going on to a trendy bar. He poured me a drink and despite my protestations, insisted that we would go out. All I wanted, was to stay in the warm and have some fun with him. After all, my idea of a decent night out is drinks on a summers evening at a country pub or perhaps a live music gig at the Eden Project, followed by dinner with friends. A visit to a trendy bar on a freezing night in Newquay does not really 'float my boat'.
He is two years older than me (bloody hell, a flipping miracle, I hear you gasp..) but maintains that staying in is for those users of the ever popular Zimmer! Not wanting to be a bah humbug I resigned myself to a night in the company of the young and the not so beautiful, being loud and proud and generally irritating. Ten minutes later he, who had so fervently lectured me on the art of staying young, yawned and said perhaps we should stay in after all!
Either he is getting old or he realised how exhausting and demanding I am and decided to save his energy!! It comes to us all Mr Hotelier and your idea of being young, is not necessarily mine!
Right!! she says decisively...it is time to pull myself out of the jumpers and jeans and turn my face to the sun. After the winter we have suffered it is time that big yellow round thing showed its face and motivated us all. Ken rang me yesterday (old and treasured school friend) and said he felt the same. It doesn't matter who I talk to about those sunshine days, everyone has the same yearning...to swim in clear waters, sun yourself on a beach and be with like minded people. Be it a couple of days or a week, if we could recapture those halcyon days we would be true millionaires.
Yeah I know this post is a tad emotional and smacks of feeling sorry for myself but whether we were Donut Children or Forces Brats the sunshine is an intrinsic part of us . The simple elements of sun, sea and sand brought us so much joy that the winter is a tiresome, painful time for us all.
I hope this year will bring us old schoolies together once more. There are a few reunions planned...time to make the effort I think and shake off the nasty winter. Let us hope its a bright shining summer and we can at least dust off the barbecue and reconnect with each other.
To you all my lovely friends
Namaste
Muse x
I had the 'age' conversation with the Hotelier who I saw on Saturday. We had a couple of drinks, a fabulous Chinese meal and a lot of laughs. We went back to the Hotel to drop off the leftovers and have a naughty cig before going on to a trendy bar. He poured me a drink and despite my protestations, insisted that we would go out. All I wanted, was to stay in the warm and have some fun with him. After all, my idea of a decent night out is drinks on a summers evening at a country pub or perhaps a live music gig at the Eden Project, followed by dinner with friends. A visit to a trendy bar on a freezing night in Newquay does not really 'float my boat'.
He is two years older than me (bloody hell, a flipping miracle, I hear you gasp..) but maintains that staying in is for those users of the ever popular Zimmer! Not wanting to be a bah humbug I resigned myself to a night in the company of the young and the not so beautiful, being loud and proud and generally irritating. Ten minutes later he, who had so fervently lectured me on the art of staying young, yawned and said perhaps we should stay in after all!
Either he is getting old or he realised how exhausting and demanding I am and decided to save his energy!! It comes to us all Mr Hotelier and your idea of being young, is not necessarily mine!
Right!! she says decisively...it is time to pull myself out of the jumpers and jeans and turn my face to the sun. After the winter we have suffered it is time that big yellow round thing showed its face and motivated us all. Ken rang me yesterday (old and treasured school friend) and said he felt the same. It doesn't matter who I talk to about those sunshine days, everyone has the same yearning...to swim in clear waters, sun yourself on a beach and be with like minded people. Be it a couple of days or a week, if we could recapture those halcyon days we would be true millionaires.
Yeah I know this post is a tad emotional and smacks of feeling sorry for myself but whether we were Donut Children or Forces Brats the sunshine is an intrinsic part of us . The simple elements of sun, sea and sand brought us so much joy that the winter is a tiresome, painful time for us all.
I hope this year will bring us old schoolies together once more. There are a few reunions planned...time to make the effort I think and shake off the nasty winter. Let us hope its a bright shining summer and we can at least dust off the barbecue and reconnect with each other.
To you all my lovely friends
Namaste
Muse x
Saturday, 6 March 2010
The Test.
What a week on the bloke front. There are some weird and wonderful people out there! As Nige would say, I have probably dated most of them! As you know I have had a great time with Mr Hotelier over the last couple of weeks but he is so raw from his last relationship that I cannot see any future there. What a lovely guy.
The messages keep coming in and I keep doing the 'read and delete' thing on most of them. This seems cruel to those not, on the roller coaster that is Internet dating.... Trust me on this... it is far better to 'read and delete' than face the terrible insults or arrogance that follow a negative reply.
I think I must be fussy. Perhaps I am too demanding, too honest, too vociferous? My problem is that I see things in black and white and very little of my life is viewed through 'rose tinted glasses'. Mr S has an inordinate ability to think outside the box and I so wish I could achieve that without struggling through a lot of unnecessary spam in the first place!
After replying to a mail from a guy that looks suitable, I usually have a bit of banter, via email, with the him and then I phone. I am never, ever nervous about these phone calls. I have always had a decent telephone manner and to me it is nothing to worry about. I suppose I am guilty of thus;
Does he have an awful Dudley accent? What does he do? Can he speak for five minutes without swearing? Does he know what a book is? Whatever his age, is he reasonably presented and fairly fit? Is he wearing a football shirt, if so he is dust! Likewise tattoos etc....
Actually that last comment is unfair as photographs do not capture the essence of a person and rarely give you a true insight. So conversation happens and then they have to pass 'The Test'.
'The Test' is obviously a very scientific process which has been thought up by me. It is a list of Do's and Dont's......
Do not call me 'hun' via text!
Do not LOL via text!
Do not 'Laugh Your Ass Off' via text!
Do not send me kisses, babes or smileys via text, this right has to be earned.
Do not shorten more than one word via text.
Do not send below the waist pictures.
Do not ask me to MSN or send below the waist pictures!
Do drive at least 35 miles from home in order to meet me for lunch at a decent pub.
Do have nice manners, be comfortable in the pub and take the lead as far as seating menus etc....go.
Do smell nice and make an effort, whatever your style.
Do try and concentrate on me and not on your divorce/wayward kids.
Do Please ..... be reasonably intelligent.
Do offer to pay for my lunch but know that I am perfectly capable of paying for it myself.
Oh bloody hell, have I really turned into a spoiled stampy monster....or was I always one? Seriously though, I am horribly jaded at the moment and am pondering on letting my hair go grey, wearing stylish granny slippers and a TV blanket in which you have 'handy' pockets to store the TV remotes and your knitting.....
The experience I have had this week has only encouraged me to pursue this plan. I was contacted by a hot 32 year old Army guy and I politely declined. He asked me to at least speak to him. I am such a softy for a sob story...and so I had a chat to him. We had much the same background, but I was painfully aware, there wasn't much between his ears. Ouch!...get me! Honest he was a bit of a plank but very sweet, so I thought, okay I will meet him for lunch and then he will see I am not for him as I had already had one stalker and had no wish to encourage another.
Wrong move! There followed a series of painful texts, asking me for directions, postcode, mileage, timings (twice!)and I had to rant down the phone to Mr S.
"You really shouldn't encourage poor young guys that do not know any better. You would slaughter the bloke" he said gleefully. Put it this way, I got no sympathy there!
After lots of patient and protracted texts giving him directions, he finally bottled out. He had to, apparently see his brother in hospital.... Phew..I was pretty relieved and told Mr S so. "Nah" he snorted "you scared the pants off him and he ran away, vowing to never look at another woman again...."
With friends like that......?
Be Kind to each other
Muse x
The messages keep coming in and I keep doing the 'read and delete' thing on most of them. This seems cruel to those not, on the roller coaster that is Internet dating.... Trust me on this... it is far better to 'read and delete' than face the terrible insults or arrogance that follow a negative reply.
I think I must be fussy. Perhaps I am too demanding, too honest, too vociferous? My problem is that I see things in black and white and very little of my life is viewed through 'rose tinted glasses'. Mr S has an inordinate ability to think outside the box and I so wish I could achieve that without struggling through a lot of unnecessary spam in the first place!
After replying to a mail from a guy that looks suitable, I usually have a bit of banter, via email, with the him and then I phone. I am never, ever nervous about these phone calls. I have always had a decent telephone manner and to me it is nothing to worry about. I suppose I am guilty of thus;
Does he have an awful Dudley accent? What does he do? Can he speak for five minutes without swearing? Does he know what a book is? Whatever his age, is he reasonably presented and fairly fit? Is he wearing a football shirt, if so he is dust! Likewise tattoos etc....
Actually that last comment is unfair as photographs do not capture the essence of a person and rarely give you a true insight. So conversation happens and then they have to pass 'The Test'.
'The Test' is obviously a very scientific process which has been thought up by me. It is a list of Do's and Dont's......
Do not call me 'hun' via text!
Do not LOL via text!
Do not 'Laugh Your Ass Off' via text!
Do not send me kisses, babes or smileys via text, this right has to be earned.
Do not shorten more than one word via text.
Do not send below the waist pictures.
Do not ask me to MSN or send below the waist pictures!
Do drive at least 35 miles from home in order to meet me for lunch at a decent pub.
Do have nice manners, be comfortable in the pub and take the lead as far as seating menus etc....go.
Do smell nice and make an effort, whatever your style.
Do try and concentrate on me and not on your divorce/wayward kids.
Do Please ..... be reasonably intelligent.
Do offer to pay for my lunch but know that I am perfectly capable of paying for it myself.
Oh bloody hell, have I really turned into a spoiled stampy monster....or was I always one? Seriously though, I am horribly jaded at the moment and am pondering on letting my hair go grey, wearing stylish granny slippers and a TV blanket in which you have 'handy' pockets to store the TV remotes and your knitting.....
The experience I have had this week has only encouraged me to pursue this plan. I was contacted by a hot 32 year old Army guy and I politely declined. He asked me to at least speak to him. I am such a softy for a sob story...and so I had a chat to him. We had much the same background, but I was painfully aware, there wasn't much between his ears. Ouch!...get me! Honest he was a bit of a plank but very sweet, so I thought, okay I will meet him for lunch and then he will see I am not for him as I had already had one stalker and had no wish to encourage another.
Wrong move! There followed a series of painful texts, asking me for directions, postcode, mileage, timings (twice!)and I had to rant down the phone to Mr S.
"You really shouldn't encourage poor young guys that do not know any better. You would slaughter the bloke" he said gleefully. Put it this way, I got no sympathy there!
After lots of patient and protracted texts giving him directions, he finally bottled out. He had to, apparently see his brother in hospital.... Phew..I was pretty relieved and told Mr S so. "Nah" he snorted "you scared the pants off him and he ran away, vowing to never look at another woman again...."
With friends like that......?
Be Kind to each other
Muse x
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