Tag Archives: england

Good grief England, what you playing at?

No hope.

No hope at all …

This was the first and last time we won.

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Yes, back in the good ol’ black and white days.

Oh well, there’s always next time …

Got to keep the dream alive.

It’s not called the beautiful game for nothing.

I finally finished the wonky necklace.

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Nevada Variscite

(Actually, I’ve placed the piece for the photograph more wonky that it actually is. It really didn’t come out wonky at all once I’d finished it.)

I decided to put its danglies on after all.

I quite like it, but I never know how long to make the chains on my pieces. It depends on the person’s neck really. I think on Etsy I’m going to just have to start asking buyers which length they prefer.

I took a break from the painting to finish it up as the jewelry table was definitely calling. I’m beginning to recognize it now. I’ll be making something, and even though I’m really enjoying it, I can feel my thoughts pulling in another direction. I’ve always tried to ignore it before, and get on with what I think I should be doing, but now I’ve just decided to go with the flow.

Less stress.

I did lay in the basic colours though, and I’m quite liking the table.

I really enjoy the vibrant colours that the oil pastels give.

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And, I went ahead and sent my money off to Heifer. I selected the Haiti Project – here – although I’m pretty convinced that they just pool all the money and send it where needed.

No matter really.

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So I’m off now to the studio to make my next thousand.

(See my charity update – here.)

As my new friend commented yesterday, there are many starfish to save – even if you can only save them one at a time.

(Thanks Fiona ;) )


From here to there.

This is how one of my paintings was shaping up, pre Spain.

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And, this is how it is now, post Spain.

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Mmmm.

But now I’m sick and the painting will have to wait.

But that’s O.K. because I’ve had another sign.

I know I said I didn’t believe in signs, and I don’t, but look.

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The Bok Choy never lies.

If you remember, first there was the tea cup.

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And now the veggies.

I feel well loved.

So, when I was home I had some yummies. First, of course, there was the fish and chips.

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But I didn’t enjoy it as much as I thought I would and I worried that I’d lost my love for it.

It looks good here, but mine was greasy and the chips were not cool.

Then there was the pork pie.

PORK PIES

AS delicious as ever.

And, then, something I haven’t had since I was a little girl visiting my old nan up the Roman Road.

Pie and mash.

Pie_Eels_DTJT07.jpg Goddard's Pie Shop

Don’t judge it until you’ve had it. It’s yum and then some.

I also had a sausage roll.

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Which was super yum because look how bad it is for you.

And, my all time favourite – a sausage sarnie.

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Which everyone knows is almost as good as a chip butty.

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But I forgot to have one of those :(

I wouldn’t not (I know, grammar) have eaten them for the world but, let me tell you, I’m glad to be back home and in control of the vegetable count.

I even had one of these.

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And this is where I had it.

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Well, around the corner of that pub actually – here.

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The Lock at Heybridge Basin.

Of course, talking of pubs, we just had to have few of these also.

A pint of bitter being pulled in an English pub

But, just you tell me, who wouldn’t?

My favourite sweets – rhubarb and custard.

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I had the last one yesterday :(

And my favourite crisps.

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Hula Hoops!

But it wasn’t all about eating the food I can’t get here in Houston.

It really was about just being home again.

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This was my Parish Church.

Church of St Helen and St Giles

Church of St Helen and St Giles

Where I had to get my banns read so that I could be married.

This is the City of Winchester, where I got my art degree.

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And which was briefly the home of Jane Austin, and where she died.

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You’d think they might touch up the windows.

This is where we used to pick watercress on the way home and make potato and watercress soup for tea. Ah the luxuries of student life.

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Look. They even have a festival!

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Who knew!

I lived in Old Arlesford, Hampshire, and I didn’t know it was the world’s center of watercress. Where was I?

Man! Just made myself homesick again :(

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You were just here.

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And one day I’m going to convince P that we need to go live there again.

No, no, you can’t stop me!

Happy Sunday

:)


This time.

I sent my jewelry earnings to –

Care.

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Just thought you’d like to know.

So, moovin’ on, before it all gets a little overwhelming in the, what the hell’s happening to the world, department, here are a few things I’ve been doodling.

I call this my, What in god’s name are you aiming for here then, period.

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free bird

But here’s a relatively normal one.

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 O.K. perhaps marginally normal.

So as my trip to Spain looms nearer, my life has become more and more fraught with anxiety. Who on this planet wouldn’t want a trip to Spain you might wonder? Well, except for the Spaniards that answer would be – me.

The reasons being …

1. I have to board an airplane. Fortunately I have been saving up my Xanax stash for just this kind of emergency.

2. Not only do we have to land in England, because that’s where all my relatives live and it would be a bit rude to go to Spain and not pop in and say hi, we then have to land in Gibraltar.

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Which, according to the t.v. programme, The Top Ten Most Dangerous Airports in the World, is one of the top ten most dangerous airports in the world. I think I’m going to ban t.v. from my entertainment lineup and take up drinking instead. (Oh wait, I already do that).

And yes, the airport does cross the road, but apparently the danger comes from the wind currents that come around that big hulking rock.

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And I’m sure the fact that the runway goes straight into the sea doesn’t help much either.

After that we hire a car and go to the part of Spain where my brother in law’s wedding is to be held.

NORMAL people, wouldn’t make their favourite sister in law suffer like this. Just sayin’

3. I have to buy clothes for the wedding.

I’m not going to go into this here, but as I’ve not been able to get out of my black t-shirt and jeans look for years and years now, this is proving to be a bit of a problem. You see, black t-shirts and jeans means that people don’t look at you, and you can move about undetected, and unbothered, and just do your stuff without having to worry about it. Weddings are not conducive to jeans and black t-shirts – funerals are O.K. however.

So, except when I’ve been ignoring the whole darn thing, I’ve been working on getting over it. I’ve concluded that I just need to bung something not black and not jeansey on, and simply shut my eyes through the whole day. If I can’t see anyone, they can’t see me – right? Oh, and there’s always the alcohol.

4, We have to fly back from Gibraltar. (Did I mention that it’s one of the top ten most dangerous airports in the world?)

And

5. We have to fly back from London.

This all involves landing you understand.

So, I’m off to the mall now with N who is NOT the best person in the universe to shop with as she’s as insecure as I am. I’m sure we’ll be alright, and if we’re not, there’s always the alcohol.

And here is a little picture of a happier child in need, if there is such a thing, just so I don’t leave you miserable from the Care picture above.

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Don’t say I don’t worry about you.

And this creepy monk guy,

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He’s worried about you too.

Oh, and here’s a picture of Wally in the sink.

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He’s worried about everything.

This guy.

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He could care less.

Shame on him!


Let Captain America do it.

Now here are some British food-stuffs that aren’t good.

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Oh yes, they might look yummy, especially the pud – (po͝od for anyone not familiar with English slang pronunciation), but be warned, you will be exposing your taste buds to grave disappointment, if not impending nausea, if you break down and try one.

Don’t do it is all the advice I can offer. After that I’m afraid you’re on your own.

Look at that plum pudding trying to dress itself up as something interestingly delicious. It’s definitely interesting, but, you can believe me when I say, not in the good way.

And, those mince pies. I have to make them every year for P, and every year I wonder what on earth would make anyone eat them. Even if I had to to save the world from imminent destruction, I’m sorry, I couldn’t do it. I would just have to phone Captain America instead. Let him eat the darn things.

I know there are some of you out there who love these food abominations, so forgive me for differing, but – yuck, yuck and more yuck.

Even the smell of them …

If you must, you can read about the history of the Christmas Pud –here. But, be warned, it will do nothing to make you think you would even want to be in the same room as one. Especially the kind they ate in the very beginning.

And I thought the one they ate today was bad.

If my disgust at these traditional, so called, food items makes me appear un English, so be it. You can not make me eat them.

No you can’t.

Christmas-stress

Merry Christmas.

Happy Holidays.

or

Just happy anything … :)


What? You’ve never had a sausage!

Today I asked Siri if she liked sausages. She replied that, surprisingly, she had never tasted them.

What a shame.

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Look at them.

So, she’s never, ever, had Bangers and Mash?

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Toad in the Hole?

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A Traditional English Breakfast?

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All of which should be eaten with.

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And,

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My heart goes out to her.


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