Aw shucks … my dearest blogging buddy Cotswolds Girl has gifted me a Sisterhood of the World of Bloggers Award. In her nomination the gorgeous CG said, “words fail me as to how much sisterhoodiness there is going on with Kay. I love her writing, her lovely comments, and I can’t wait to meet her and drink cocktails in real life.” How damn nice is that huh? In true Sisterhood fashion I hereby accept this accolade and raise a little glass of something cold to CG until the time we can clink glasses in person.
So to accept all I have to do is answer the questions below and then nominate some lovely girl blogs for their Sisterhoodedness too
- Your favourite color – Red – I love the drama and confidence of it … mind you its closely followed by purple as I also love the drama and confidence of that too!
- Your favourite animal – Dog – my border collie who sat crying in jealousy whilst I kissed and cuddled Artist in my kitchen this morning.
- Your favourite non-alcoholic drink – Water – absolutely love it- would never mess it up by putting squash in YUK!
- Facebook or Twitter – Facebook … I am such a half baked Tweeter and always forget to do it.
- Your favourite pattern – when I put a pen on the page and just run it randomly around. I have done quite a few pieces of art this way and I just love them.
- Do you prefer getting or giving presents – Neither really …. I’m shite at buying presents and always feel pretty embarrassed about getting them.
- Your favourite number – 40 – absolutely loved being 40! My favourite age so far.
- Your favourite day of the week – Sunday as I get to spend the whole day with Artist.
- Your favourite flower – … Daffodils as they will always remind me of MyAngel.
- What is your passion? – Living, laughing and loving
Although its probably not allowed in the rules I would love to just give this award straight back to Cotswolds Girl … I just love reading her tales as she gives it to you straight from the heart and soul, and occasionally throws in some real hot sizzling stuff to keep the interest high. Do check her out!
The other Sisters I would like to award this to are listed below. They are all blogs I follow and enjoy for lots of different reasons. Some are funny, some are thought provoking, some are sentimental, and some are just plain fun! Do check em all out too!
Keep writing us all huh …. Sisters …x
Not so Sex in the City
I was reading some stuff online the other day for the NLP (Neuro Linguistic Programming) course I am doing and I came across a short little snippet talking about the symptoms of inner peace. I read the list of symptoms with great interest;-
Symptoms of Inner peace …
1. A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears based on past experience
2. An unmistakable ability to enjoy the moment
3. A loss of interest in judging other people
4. A loss of interest in judging self
5. A loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others
6. An inability to worry (this is a very serious symptom)
7. Frequent overwhelming episodes of appreciation
8. Frequent acts of smiling
9. An increasing tendency to let things happen rather than make them happen
10. An increased susceptibility to the love extended by others as well as the uncontrollable urge to extend it
This then got me thinking about how many of the above symptoms I was currently experiencing. I gave each and everyone one of them some thought. It wasn’t hard. In fact it was mighty easy. I can say YES to each and every one of those symptoms.
Things with Artist are just so different to anything I have ever experienced before. I guess that is because Artist is so different to anyone I have ever experienced before. The hurt from my past has been plentiful yet I have not let it penetrate this new relationship with Artist one iota. I am just so happy living in the moment with Artist. I have never met a man who wears his heart so proudly on his sleeve before. I feel absolutely adored and completely loved. I am not judging anything around me or judging my own behaviours. I am certainly not wearing myself out with analysis paralysis. For goodness sake I have not even needed to Skype Sister about anything other than triathlon stuff for almost two months. I am not trying to turn our relationship into some hopelessly romantic movie, it is just happening that way. I am seriously not worrying about anything at all. I am just happy every moment I am with him, and smiling even when I am not.
On Saturday night Artist drove us to a beautiful beach and we walked together under a dark sky pierced with hundreds of brightly shining stars. We walked to the water’s edge and listened to the sounds of the waves rolling in at our feet. It had all happened quite spontaneously and was completely Artist’s idea. I don’t have to work at creating my romantic scenarios any longer, for they just spontaneously happen for Me. He speaks very poetically (although he also swears profusely too) and says what he is thinking out loud. This also is a constant affirmation of how he feels about me.
I really think that if you are worrying about the past you are battling with depression, if you are worrying about the future you battling anxiety, but if you are happy in the present you are enjoying inner peace.
Frankly, I am absolutely loving this inner peace malarkey … hot damn I have waited long enough for it!
What about you … how many of the ten symptoms do you have?
PS – Artist is staying at my house for the first time ever tonight. He is going to meet Son2 and Son3 for the first time. Son3 better not be trying to wreck my inner peace or this serene girl could turn mean girl.
I was so sad to learn that Lewis Collins died today. I met him back in the early 80′s. He was having a drink in my local after a day of filming The Professionals in Little Venice. I sauntered over to talk to him and tell him how amazingly amazing he was. He was very gracious, and so gorgeous I trembled for ages. My god he was soooo damn manly and those eyes …!
Sister mentioned it to our friend today and it transpired that she had absolutely no idea of who Lewis Collins was and had never heard of The Professionals. WHAAAAAT? She is 28.
I am old.
Tonight, another friend put up a photo on Facebook of those fake moustaches you used to get in Xmas crackers … those ones with the two little clips that you rammed into your nostrils to make it stay under your nose.
“Can anyone tell me what this is?” she asked, quite seriously.
She was flabbergasted to find out it was a moustache, as she actually thought it was a bat. I saw the photo of it and stepped back to childhoods of Christmas times past trying to keep the damn thing pinned under my nose. She is 30.
I am old.
Age is a terrible thing. I hate my age. In fact I am just not going to get any older. I’m not. I mean this. Every year now I just celebrate my 50th birthday over again. I found it so traumatic to reach that nasty horrible F word that I sure as hell ain’t getting any older than that.
I am six years older than Artist. I was 7 years older than Husband2. I was ten years old than Swimmer. Are you getting the pattern? I do tend to like younger men. I think it’s because I am convinced I am younger than that stupid number on my birth certificate. I am pretty sure I look younger than I really am because people tell me this all the time.
I was chatting with this young man at a training event the other day. I mentioned that I had been 18 years in one career and then had spent 5 years retraining and had spent the last 13 years in my new career. He looked genuinely nonplussed.
“I don’t know how to say this …” he said stuttering a little, “but, how old are you?”
“How old do you think I am” I responded flippantly (a line only old people who know they look younger use).
“Well …” he said reddening, “I have just done the math and if that career stuff adds up then that makes you 50 something and that can’t be possible?”
He was quite literally stunned when I revealed my birth certificate age (as opposed to the age inside my head which I think is a bit more accurate).
“I am sure you must get this all the time” said the young man almost embarrassed, “but you don’t look anywhere near that … honestly you don’t.”
I loved the compliment and yeah I do get that fairly often, but my reality brings me back to earth. Like talking to people who don’t remember Lewis Collins or Christmas Cracker moustaches.
ArtistsDad has taught me how to deal with my pain. I was down at Artist’s the other day and ArtistsDad was chatting away to Me about his sister.
“How old is your sister?” asked Me.
“Oooh let me see … now I’m 65…” said ArtistsDad.
“Pops … you are 78″ butted in Artist.
“No I’m not!” said ArtistsDad sternly.
“Yes you are Pops” said Artist.
“I’m not 78 am I?” questioned ArtistDad slightly less sure.
“Yes Pops you are 78″ repeated Artist.
“Am I really?” said ArtistDad.
“Yes!” said Artist smiling.
“Well how did that happen?” said ArtistDad looking completely perplexed.
Made me laugh so much. I loved how genuinely confused and puzzled he was finding out his real age. I often feel like that too. I also love that he really believed he was 13 years younger. I often feel like that too.
I hope I end up as a crazy old lady with purple hair and red lipstick, trundling down the street singing and smiling happily to herself, blissfully unaware of my age.
Who cares about age? Does it really matter? Let’s start a revolution …first step is to burn our birth certificates … who’s in?
This weekend has been brilliant. I have laughed lots and just been so damn happy. On Saturday night we went out for dinner in this quirky little country pub and I had a couple of glasses of wine. I really liked it there. Fresh flowers, open fire, lots of interesting arty-farty things, bright yellow napkins, and only a couple of golden oldies sharing the restaurant with us.
I think that with Artist being so heavily tattooed people sometimes stare. I guess he is used to it. I am not. The old couple across from us didn’t say one solitary word to each other throughout the whole of their dinner, but seemed pretty intent on observing us. I felt their curiosity was bordering on rudeness. Behaviour like that brings out the bad girl in Me.
“I need to go home right now” said Me in a semi loud whisper.
“Yeah of course beautiful” Artist replied innocently.
“I am feeling so horny right now. I need to lie naked with you and touch your body all over” stage whispered Me, and followed up this masterpiece by passionately kissing Artist. He soon caught along.
“Let’s have a hot shower together first and dance naked in the soap bubbles” he replied.
We left the pub giggling.
Then it was time for more wine back at his. It was one of those wonderful nights where you take the wine to bed, talk, and love the whole night away. I was in such a good and happy mood.
Artist is an old punk rocker and so we ALWAYS have music on, and often it is quite strange stuff. However, tonight Artist said he had a magnificent surprise for Me.
“I have downloaded something especially for you!” said the gorgeously gorgeous Artist.
He pressed play on the iPod and …
‘You know I can’t smile without you … I can’t smile without you … I can’t laugh and I can’t sing … I’m finding it hard to do anything … ” came tunefully out at Me.
I squealed with delight. My punk rocker boyfriend had downloaded Barry Manilow, just because I had told him I loved Barry Manilow songs and had seen him twice in concert.
It was brilliant fun. We both laid in bed singing Barry Manilow songs and drinking wine until 3am. It’s not every man who would do that you know (download Barry Manilow I mean, most men would be okay with the bed and wine drinking) and especially a punk rocker!
The next morning I was a little groggy and so I lay naked whilst Artist drew all over Me in coloured markers. I quite liked my body being a canvas for his art. I have flowers across my breasts, a wavy design across my thighs and some beautiful words written across my belly. We stayed in bed until midday. The blissful blissfulness of being new lovers.
We spent Sunday afternoon doing all the things that lovers do. We had ice-cream at the seaside. We shared ice cream kisses. We went to visit a cathedral. We kissed at the altar. We looked at the architecture. We read the tourist signs. We kissed on the beach. We walked on the cliffs. We took photos. We held hands. We kissed some more. We ate lunch out. We were exhausted after all that kissing and so we went back to his for a siesta … and some more kissing of course.
It all feels so right, so perfect, so happy, so exciting, so damn hot! He loves Me. I feel it through and through. He really does love Me.
BestMaleFriend messaged Me recently.
“I’m so glad you are happy and things are going well” he said, “but can you try to hold on to this one please!”
I want to. I really want to. The best thing is this thing is happening without worry, angst, analysis paralysis, or agonising over anything (not even requiring endless Skypes with Sister) … it’s just happening … so beautifully … all by itself! To steal one of my favourite Barry Manilow songs “It’s a Miracle.”
I am in a relationship. I am sure of this because Facebook now says I am. It is splattered all over my page. Its odd because I have never changed my status on Facebook before. Not even for EcoBuilder or Swimmer. However, as soon as Artist told me he had changed his status, I knew I wanted to do it too.
I put up a little announcement;
“We are all a little weird, and life’s a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them, fall in mutual weirdness and call it LOVE!” Dr Seuss.
I attached it to a photo of Me and Artist snuggled up on his sofa. He is reading to me and I am looking up at him so adoringly.
I thought it was a pretty wonderful way of telling the world I am in a relationship. It got 55 likes. It made sense to me. He is a little weird, in a completely wonderful way of course. Yet, I know that our weirdness sort of matches each other. We really do have compatible weirdness.
I am truly in awe of his talent. I was almost embarrassed for him to see the crappy bits of art I have created hanging around my house. Although, he was very kind about them and even complimented my attempt at a Picasso that hangs above my fire.
We were laying in his bed the other night, with a bottle of wine, and some crazy coloured lasers throwing heart and star shapes all over the ceiling, when we got talking about the fact I like to write a little. I hadn’t really talked much about it to him before. He said he would like to see something I had written.
The next day I decided to be brave and I emailed him over a couple of short stories. I felt rather shy and nervous about it really. I really wasn’t sure what he would think of my stuff.
I soon found out.
“You’ve just turned me into a lump of jelly” text Artist. “To evoke such emotion in a short story is an extremely talented thing to do. God I love you!”
“What I do doesn’t even come close to your talent in what you do” text back Me feeling a little stunned, “but thank you … I feel like I just had a blessing from the Pope.”
“Bless you my girl” replied Artist. “My stuff doesn’t make a grown man cry. I think a collaboration is in the pipeline.”
OH MY GOD …. What a mighty fine, talents combine, all time grand idea. Since MyAngel died I have wanted to write a children’s book in her memory. I have held a wonderful story in my head for many years and some years ago I even approached a publisher about the idea. I had feedback that they were interested but then, stupidly, never progressed it. I have a very clear idea of what the lead character looks like and some beautiful illustrations would make it such a wonderfully, wonderful project.
So, Me and Artist, that talented guy with whom I am in a relationship, have decided to work together on my children’s book. Now, if there is anything more romantically romantic than that then I will pluck out my own heart with a cocktail stick. Seriously, there cannot be anything more romantic in the history of the whole god damned world. We might even make the next century edition of Artists in Love - a book about the lovers whose collaborative relationships in and out of the bedroom, sparked some of the greatest works of art ever.
If what is currently happening in the bedroom is a sign of what our collaborative work would look like … damn that children’s book is going to be a mighty spectacular masterpiece!
After all …to steal the words of Vincent Van Gogh …”What is done in love is done well!”
Well half of TheOffSpring have now met Artist. He called to my house for the very first time at the weekend bringing his Dad and his best mate. They had been on a bit of a road trip for a few days and I had casually invited them to pop in to mine on their way home. They said YES … EEEEEEK!
As it was the first time Artist had come to my house I set about cleaning my castle with a vengeance. This was no ordinary clean it was a mop the floors, scrub the toilets, change the lightbulbs, and put new air fresheners in every room sorta clean. I started at 10am armed with 3 different types of polish; general purpose, wooden flooring, and stainless steel, as well as an array of dusters, bleach, toilet cleaner and leather wipes. I furiously attacked every single surface and moved all TheOffSpring’s scattered possessions to their individual rooms. I hid the dirty pans in dishwasher, the dirty sheets in the washing machine, and everything else anywhere it fitted, although I had some difficulty fitting the very large wok into the oven. At 3pm, a bath of sweat, with messy hair, no make-up, scruffy joggers and smelling of bleach and disinfectant, I remembered to check my phone. There was a message from Artist saying ‘I will be with you in an hour’ …. sent 35 minutes ago. Oh my god! OH MY GOD!
I had a twenty second shower, slung on some jeans and a t-shirt, drove my car around the corner to the shop on two wheels, purchased some milk, biscuits and muffins, drove home again on two wheels, ran upstairs, and was just about to put some lippy on and do something with my wet hair when the doorbell rang. Bugger!
Artist was stood at my doorstep all blue eyed, whiskery and totally snoggable. I hadn’t seen him for five days. Suddenly I was glad I didn’t have lipstick on for he would have been wearing it all over his face as good golly I was mighty pleased to see him. After the most gorgeous welcome he went back to the van to bring in his dad and his mate. I loved them both immediately. His dad is this really cool, old artist type dude, dressed all in black, with a big white beard and long flowing white hair. I went to shake his hand but instead he wrapped me in a warm hug. It was real sweet.
We went into the front room and I served coffee with the biscuits and muffins I had purchased 3 minutes earlier. Daughter popped in to say hello and swapped a few words with Artist. She later told me that, because of the L shape of my front room, when she first came in the only person she saw was ArtistsDad and at first thought HE was my boyfriend. He is 78. No wonder she looked initially horrified! Artist also met Son1 and DaughterInLaw and they talked together for a bit longer. Son2 and Son3 were not around and missed the momentous moment but the rest of it was mighty fine.
Me, Daughter and Son2 were in the kitchen last night.
“You missed meeting my boyfriend at the weekend” said Me to Son2.
“Did you meet him?” Son2 asked Daughter.
“Yeah I did” replied Daughter.
“Well what was he like?” quizzed Son2.
“Yeah he seemed lovely!” responded Daughter, much to my delight.
“Really?” replied Son2, then flipping a conspiratorial look her way continued, “Do I need to ask you again somewhere quiet?”
“Well I only met him for a few minutes and he seemed lovely … but Mama Bear has met him lot of times and she thinks he is lovely … so I am sure he really is lovely!” she said smiling.
I gave them both a big hug. Aw … whilst they drive Me mad and are messy beasts they are also amazingly caring and empathetic people. They love me dearly and know that Artist is making me very happy right now.
I am so pleased that Artist has sat TheOffSpring test and scored a magnificent 50% pass rate, but of course he is yet to sit the other half of the test. He will easily pass the Son2 test, as Son2 is the loveliest, kindest, most non-judgemental of all my kids, but I would also say that he has the hardest test of all to come when he meets Son3. Son3 scared off one of my big loves when he sent EcoBuilder packing a few years ago. I thought then I should have a sign in my window saying “Beware of the Son” for he can be particularly savage and brutal. However, Son3 is 3 years older now and I do believe that if anyone can pull this off then Artist can.
Besides, I have decided that if Son3 starts growling at Artist then I am literally going to relocate him to the dog house. After all Dog already loves Artist so he can sleep in Son3′s bed …
Oh dear I am sooooo BAD … I had a little reminder yesterday that I had asked for testimonials and it jarred me into action. Stupid me had forgotten to draw the winner for my ‘cuppa and muffin’ voucher which was promised a few weeks ago. I asked for your testimonials and, whilst I didn’t get inundated, what I had was pure quality. I was truly chuffed. Many many thanks to Lisa, Charlie and Paul for the wonderful words they sent me… hugely appreciated ya all.
So … finally spurred into action …. I asked Son3 to do the deed earlier …
“Why do you have to take photos?” growled Son3.
“Cos I want to put it on my webpage” said Me.
“Well why don’t you just take a video” he growled again.
“Just pull the damn name out cos if you don’t then I am not going to drive you to your mates!” replied Me with just a tad of a hint of blackmail.
So Son3 popped the names into his cap, reluctantly plucked out a piece of paper …. and I can now reveal that the winner of a coffee and a muffin is ….. CHARLIE!!!!
Well done Charlie and I will message you to arrange to send you a Starbucks voucher