It is said that a true friend is someone who you don't speak to for a couple of weeks/months/years but when you do catch up everything falls back into place and it's as though you haven't been away.
This was so true on Friday night. Since leaving Sheffield four months ago there have been occasional e-mails/texts/telephone calls but no real chances to catch up. This was until Friday night when we all decided to have a mini re-union. Last trains back to Hull leave crazily early so up step Laterooms.com. I love this place, as I haven't paid full price for a hotel room for years. Upstep the Mercure Hotel just outside the Winter Gardens. The room was fantastic, the view amazing (although I should apologise to those people having dinner across the square after my shower, as I forgot that I had opened the window, and the breeze chose the worst possible moment to blow the curtains aside!) and the service first class, and I would hugely recommend it for a night away.
As it was a Friday, and with plenty of holiday days left I decided to take the day off. I could check in from anytime after 12pm so a leisurely morning, a quick train ride, and I was in Sheffield in time to use the gym, pool and spa.....yeah I know really manly but so worth it. Was a fantastic way to relax after a hell of a week and to kick start a night out.
Soon it was over to Ha Ha Bar to meet up with friends who had come with me to Manchester, some who had left at the same time but moved elsewhere, and those who had stayed. It was such a great time, seeing people who had been on maternity leave, catching up with others and within minutes it was as though we hadn't been away.....making the same jokes......making fun of the same people.....it's such a shame that we had to split apart a very close team and that we no longer see each other every day.
As it was a few too many drinks later and it was off to Reflex/Flairs - an 80s bar where one of the guys used to work as a club dancer - a bless 'Huggy Ben' where they had somewhat foolishly installed a pole dancing pole.....unfortunately we found it......and a spin-off ensued (probably not the best idea after a meal and several drinks) until the staff threw us out.
From there to a club where the husband of one of my surrogate mothers was DJ-ing (is that a real word or have I just made it up?) for dancing like a fool with a lot of friends around.
Crawling into bed at 3.30 on a Saturday morning is something that I haven't done a lot of for a while. When I lived in York it was twice a week, but 3.30 bed for 5am start don't really mix....unfortunately cos I love a social life involving dancing and mixing with friends.....and I hope that I can pick this back up again in Manchester.
I have soem very close friends who I see every week or so, and I know that I have some great friends who I see or speak to less often, and I would like to say a huge 'Thank You' to all my friends, and apologise if I have let our friendship slip, but you all mean a great deal to me!
Sunday, 19 September 2010
Wednesday, 15 September 2010
Letter to a tea leaf!
Dear Sir/Madam/?
Kind regards!!!!!!!
The Boy!
As a regular commuter, I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for the consideration you kindly displayed when you decided to alleviate National Rail of some of those highly annoying, pointless and irrelevant cables that sit by the side of the line last night.
I have to say that when I got up at 5am this morning to get to the station, I thought to myself, I really REALLY can't be bothered to sit on a train for 4 hours, to sit in an office in Manchester (this is completely true!) so imagine my delight that after getting to the station, boarding the train and sitting on it for over an hour to be told that you had removed those niggley cables and the train was going to have to stop in Leeds. Who wants to go to Manchester anyway?
And to think there was nothing else that I needed to do today other than sit at Leeds station for another 45 minutes to be told that I could either get on another train through to Bradford to then sit on another one to Manchester, or get on the same train to travel back to Hull.
So as it was I got my wish......I didn't have to go into the office today (well I did.....but rather I couldn't.....or to be completely honest I could have but it would have taken me another 180 minutes on top of what it should have taken me, and then all the fun of coming home!) As it is now it means that I now have some work to do tomorrow when I get to Manchester, approximately twice as much.
I should also thank you for my forthcoming role in the World's Biggest Coffee Morning in support of MacMillan Cancer Research. Thankfully not being in today meant that not only did I not have to sit at my desk but also that I missed today's team meeting, when roles were assigned. So imagine my delight that I got the very job that I wanted! "Trolley Dolly" with a uniform to be decided by the girls at work as a forfeit for not being in today (here's hoping that it is the short skirt, white crop top, blond wig and frilly apron.....I am told that this is a real possibility......although I assure everyone that no photographs will be taken....or if they are then they certainly will not be published!)
I am led to believe that it will however look something like this (although I cannot promise that it will look exactly like this....probably more like a shaved gorilla being squeezed into an outfit 10 sizes too small!)
So from the bottom of my heart.....I can only thank you for your kind consideration. I would simply ask that next time could you give us a little bit more notice, so that I can bring some files home.....or at least not bother getting up so early.
Kind regards!!!!!!!
The Boy!
Sunday, 12 September 2010
Freakin Awesome Free Festival!
This Friday and Saturday saw the 2010 Freedom Festival descend upon Hull. I know that Hull has gotten a quite terrible reputation 'Tean Pregnancy' 'Biggest Council Estate' and 'Obesity' Champions of the UK if not Europe or the World, and classified in one wonderfully well researched literary tome as the worst place in the UK.













This is hugely underserved, and everyone who I know who has come to Hull, irrelevant of how they thought to start, has left with a really great impression of the city. Whilst I am not saying that Hull does not have it's problems, it is no different from any other city that I have visited, but we have some wonderful sights and events. We Hullonians are generally hugely proud of the city that either raised us, or which we call home. One of these is the Freedom Festival, which is developing quite a reputation, and which brings mainstream groups together with local bands and cultural and comedy shows, all for free!
This year saw the Saturdays, Fyfe Dangerfield, the Wanted, Alesha Dixon, and McFly coming to play, along with small scale, local groups. Last year saw Florence and the Machine closing the event. This year it was a local group call the Foals, who were fantastic, and I hope will have the same successes as Florence.
Whilst I had no real interest in the Saturdays or McFly (unfortunately I think that I have grown out of them!) but I would really recommend the Foals and the Wanted who played fantastic sets.
Another new event this year was a couple of French groups who specialise in street art. Unfortunately I missed the first one - Transe Express, although I think I may have seen the last three leaving. Three performers on stilts, one a wicked witched, commanding two dragons. All three must have been about 12 feet off the ground, and walking on stilts, across wet cobbles, smeared with the detritus of 36 hour drinking and partying, all the time interacting with the crowd.
The other group, Plasticiens Volante were amazing. I have never seen anything like it. It commenced with a parade of giant inflatable sea creatures through the streets of Hull, to the accompanyment of flares, before being brought through the trees to act out a story in the centre or the park. That they managed to get the 20 foot long inflatable dragon through the trees was amazing in itself. They then acted out an entire scene in the middle of the park, surrounded by a couple of thousand people. One of the most amazing things has got to be how tiny the lil French people controlling the inflatable monsters were. I was waiting to see them float away, which considering the fireworks that were about to go off was probably a really good thing.
The whole evening was magically, and the fireworks that they set off to finish the night were spectacular. Given that they were sponsored by the local telephone company I was really glad I paid my last bills.
If you can get to Hull in or around the start of September I would really recommend this as an event! And it is all free.
I couldn't get close enough to get any photos of the stage, but here are some shots of Transe Express (if that is who they were) and Plasticien Volante!
Friday, 10 September 2010
Female influences
As I have been extremely lucky with the male role models in my life, so I have been equally blessed by my matriarchal characters.
I only knew my paternal Grandmother for a couple of years as she passed away when I was about 9 years old, and for the last few years she had been somewhat less than all there. I do however recall a wonderfully kind petite woman, whose experimentation with food was something years (and years) ahead of it's time (so far ahead that it would not be recognised today for the sheer genius that it displayed......deserts such as spaghetti pudding - along the same lines as rice pudding but made with left over spaghetti or main courses such as peanut butter beef. I know this had a lot to do with rationing and money being tight at times) She was also the "Babycham Queen" whose usual tipple was one in a martini glass and a marchino cherry (and from whose stock my sister and I regularly plundered alcohol!) Unfortunately I never got to know her full story, although I know that she was born in Australia (we have family who have been in Sons & Daughters, Flying Doctors and even Home and Away! How is that for a claim to fame!) and spent the war years as military nurse, meeting my paternal Grandfather on the last boat out of Singapore before it fell. It is from her that I have developed a desire to write and draw and explore...she was an extremely well published author (ress? - although these were mainly romantic novels, so I doubt that I will follow that closely in her footsteps - unless it is a "How not to" guide!), my parents' house is full of oil and watercolour paintings by her, as well as pen and pencil sketches, and she travelled all over the world as a younger woman.
Of all my grandparents I knew my maternal Grandmother, Mutti, far better, and although she lost her battle with cancer earlier this year she remained an amazingly strong, proud and caring woman. She was Welsh, well she claims she was born just over the border in England, but she spent so long in Wales that she developed a fierce national pride (and all the pessimism) of a true welsh woman. She was a huge sports fan and any game she watched, no matter how far ahead her team was, they would always loose (definitely a glass half empty gal!) although again I suppose a result of her time during the war, when her husband was declared MIA for 6 months, before finally being reported as wounded in action. It is from her that I learnt my enjoyment of card games (and ability to cunning distract and improve my situation!) , frustration with golf (a significant amount of frustration) and my pride in being part Welsh. As a child I remember Mutti lived with her sister, a spinster who had spent 3 years in a concentration camp in France during the last war and who never seemed to put any weight on afterwards, Auntie Bobo (we really did have some weird names for them!) about 30 miles from our home. Before we were allowed to stay over with friends me and my sisters were individually shipped off to stay with them for a weekend.....to get used to being away from home! It worked.....even though there were the creepiest pictures in the spare room....although I suppose that it ensured that we were never scared whilst away from home. In fact it worked so well with my oldest Sister that she stayed for a whole week.....(I seem to remember that my other sister and I thought that this was fantastic!)
Whilst all three have had a huge influence on me, the biggest by far has got to be my Mother. She was born in Wales (so I can definitely maintain my Welsh pride! and whose stories usually result, after about 30 minutes of links and relationships, in death ....."You know so and so, who is so and so's Auntie, was the hairdresser of...........well anyway she's dead!" Watching the opening sequence to Dad's Army was always an eye opener as a child....."He's dead, he's dead, he's almost dead") and qualified as a Radiographer before meeting and marrying my Father. They decided that once they had children (well I guess she did the hard part) she would stay at home and raise my Sisters and I. She has done a fantastic job, even though we probably (okay not really any probably about it!) don't show it anywhere near enough! She has been a constant supporter and carer, someone who is a born worrier (at times it can be annoying and frustrating) but who you know will always be on your side and be looking out for you. She has taught us to cook (so that we are all able to feed ourselves) and although I have at times eaten at some pretty fancy places (Maccy Dees & Chicken Georges to name but a few!) there is nothing as nice as my Mother's roast beef dinner! Although I know that at times my sisters and I have driven her up the wall with despair she has always remained a rock in times of trouble, and we love her for it!
(I have to also mention my surrogate Mothers at work, H.... and B..... [their identities have been disguised to protect the guilty], who have taken over responsibility as Mothers in Manchester after the most recent relationship breakdown, and to whom I am hugely grateful!)
I only knew my paternal Grandmother for a couple of years as she passed away when I was about 9 years old, and for the last few years she had been somewhat less than all there. I do however recall a wonderfully kind petite woman, whose experimentation with food was something years (and years) ahead of it's time (so far ahead that it would not be recognised today for the sheer genius that it displayed......deserts such as spaghetti pudding - along the same lines as rice pudding but made with left over spaghetti or main courses such as peanut butter beef. I know this had a lot to do with rationing and money being tight at times) She was also the "Babycham Queen" whose usual tipple was one in a martini glass and a marchino cherry (and from whose stock my sister and I regularly plundered alcohol!) Unfortunately I never got to know her full story, although I know that she was born in Australia (we have family who have been in Sons & Daughters, Flying Doctors and even Home and Away! How is that for a claim to fame!) and spent the war years as military nurse, meeting my paternal Grandfather on the last boat out of Singapore before it fell. It is from her that I have developed a desire to write and draw and explore...she was an extremely well published author (ress? - although these were mainly romantic novels, so I doubt that I will follow that closely in her footsteps - unless it is a "How not to" guide!), my parents' house is full of oil and watercolour paintings by her, as well as pen and pencil sketches, and she travelled all over the world as a younger woman.
Of all my grandparents I knew my maternal Grandmother, Mutti, far better, and although she lost her battle with cancer earlier this year she remained an amazingly strong, proud and caring woman. She was Welsh, well she claims she was born just over the border in England, but she spent so long in Wales that she developed a fierce national pride (and all the pessimism) of a true welsh woman. She was a huge sports fan and any game she watched, no matter how far ahead her team was, they would always loose (definitely a glass half empty gal!) although again I suppose a result of her time during the war, when her husband was declared MIA for 6 months, before finally being reported as wounded in action. It is from her that I learnt my enjoyment of card games (and ability to cunning distract and improve my situation!) , frustration with golf (a significant amount of frustration) and my pride in being part Welsh. As a child I remember Mutti lived with her sister, a spinster who had spent 3 years in a concentration camp in France during the last war and who never seemed to put any weight on afterwards, Auntie Bobo (we really did have some weird names for them!) about 30 miles from our home. Before we were allowed to stay over with friends me and my sisters were individually shipped off to stay with them for a weekend.....to get used to being away from home! It worked.....even though there were the creepiest pictures in the spare room....although I suppose that it ensured that we were never scared whilst away from home. In fact it worked so well with my oldest Sister that she stayed for a whole week.....(I seem to remember that my other sister and I thought that this was fantastic!)
Whilst all three have had a huge influence on me, the biggest by far has got to be my Mother. She was born in Wales (so I can definitely maintain my Welsh pride! and whose stories usually result, after about 30 minutes of links and relationships, in death ....."You know so and so, who is so and so's Auntie, was the hairdresser of...........well anyway she's dead!" Watching the opening sequence to Dad's Army was always an eye opener as a child....."He's dead, he's dead, he's almost dead") and qualified as a Radiographer before meeting and marrying my Father. They decided that once they had children (well I guess she did the hard part) she would stay at home and raise my Sisters and I. She has done a fantastic job, even though we probably (okay not really any probably about it!) don't show it anywhere near enough! She has been a constant supporter and carer, someone who is a born worrier (at times it can be annoying and frustrating) but who you know will always be on your side and be looking out for you. She has taught us to cook (so that we are all able to feed ourselves) and although I have at times eaten at some pretty fancy places (Maccy Dees & Chicken Georges to name but a few!) there is nothing as nice as my Mother's roast beef dinner! Although I know that at times my sisters and I have driven her up the wall with despair she has always remained a rock in times of trouble, and we love her for it!
(I have to also mention my surrogate Mothers at work, H.... and B..... [their identities have been disguised to protect the guilty], who have taken over responsibility as Mothers in Manchester after the most recent relationship breakdown, and to whom I am hugely grateful!)
Monday, 6 September 2010
A Wonderful Weekend!
Okay so some of my plans for the weekend failed to materialise. Admittedly they were the ones to head to Beverley Westwood to watch the sun rise (getting up at 5am is so much easier when you know that you have to....and I have to hold my hands up and admit that when the alarm went off at 6am on Saturday morning it was almost thrown across the bedroom!)....but although I failed most miserably in watching what may (or may not have been) a glorious sunrise, the weekend was still really enjoyable.
Saturday saw me in York, a wonderful city, where something seems to be happening every week. This week (other than a York City football match and a race meet at the Knavesmire) saw the York Festival of Traditional Dance. I accept that I am not really clued up on what constitutes "Traditional Dance". I think that the last time I tried "Traditional" dancing had been at my Sister's wedding, when the Groom and I thought (after a number of fizzy fall down waters) that "traditional" meant trying to breakdance.....(something I hadn't tried to do for a good 10 years) and which saw us taking it in turns to try and do headstands whilst the other one would spin you round by the legs! (it was a highly classy event although thankfully neither of us were wearing kilts at the time!)

The Festival saw groups of dancers throughout the city centre, dancing with poles, swords, handkerchiefs, floral arches.....all sorts of things, and was really enjoyable. Everywhere you went you were followed by the sound of folk music, and all of a sudden you would come across a crowd of people watching dancers in highly colourful clothes. It really brightened up the centre and gave it a somewhat unorthodox carnival feel.
No trip to York is complete without a trip to Betty's Tearooms, although the queing out of the door to get a table can on occasion be annoying. Fortunately on Saturday the sun was shining, and with a troupe of dancers around the corner, entertainment was on tap. If you have not tried a Betty's Tea I would highly recommend it. It can be expensive although walking in is like stepping back to the 1920s, where all the female staff wear high collared white shirts, and long black dresses with little white aprons, and the male staff, black trousers, ties and highly polished shoes. You could almost expect someone to snuff it over salmon paste sarnies and Miss Marple or Hercule Poirot to appear from somewhere (not I hasten to add due to anything in the salmon paste sarnies [if they even do salmon paste])
A catch up with friends + a few friendly drinks + glorious surroundings = a great Saturday!
Sunday was somewhat taken up invalid visiting, one of The Guys has managed to rupture his ligaments in his right knee so is extremely disgruntled and bored (he can't battle at the moment, and to make matters worse his internet connection is down so he has found himself extremely bored - I am told there is only so much daytime television that you can watch - I have never given it a go but I can certainly understand and commiserate from the listings guide!) Other than visiting the sick.
Perfect weather + garden + good book + BBQ = an equally great Sunday!
I hope everyone else in "Blogland" enjoyed theirs!
Friday, 3 September 2010
Feeding the soul
In a vain attempt to make Friday go slightly faster than it had been, I decided that instead of my typical lunch (usually a vague wander around the centre of Manchester maintaining caffeine and nicotine levels) I should possibly do something more cerebral with my lunchtime.
Having walked past it almost everyday for the last 3 months (and noting that it was free) I decided that it would be worth spending my lunch walking around the Manchester Art Gallery.
I am somewhat conservative when it comes to my taste in art: trees and countryside - pretty, video of naked man chopping wood - "Um!", boats on choppy water - spectacular, ruffled soiled bedsheets - again "how is this art?", portraits of handsome men or beautiful women - impressive, black canvas with highlights of varying degrees of black "Yep, still don't get it!" I am in no way trying to knock modern art. Having lived with an Art Student whilst at university I know the amount of time and effort that goes into creating a piece of art, but I seriously just don't understand it. Sometimes you can see what the artist is trying to impress and I can see how they have gone about it, but some of the more modern art just seems to me to be simply an attempt to shock.
That having been said I spent about 2 hours (yeah I know that technically it is a lunch-HOUR, but the weather is good here at the moment, and the boss had already gone out to lunch when I headed out so no way of telling how long I had been so no-one really minded!) walking through the halls of the gallery, surrounding myself in some fantastic pieces of art. I have to say that I really enjoyed some of the more modern art such as Max Ernst's - La Ville Petrifiee, or Lowry and Valette's views of Manchester (although they are somewhat less than modern now)
At the same time you can wander through halls filled with classical masters such as Jan Van Goyen and Rosetti, and surround yourself in artwork from as early as the late 14th Century.
I think the most striking artists in the exhibitions were Ford Maddow Brown and William Holman Hunt.
Ford Maddox Brown's piece simply entitled 'Work' is a complex view of the values of work, centring on a group of Navies toiling for their daily bread, whilst around them those who either do not need, or choose not to work (for a variety of reasons) continue past them.
William Holman Hunt's piece entitled 'Shadow of Death' is a biblical piece that draws on a fictitious impression of a single day of Jesus' life, although provides representations of his birth and ultimately his death.
Whilst I may well be asleep now before 4pm (as a result of lack of caffeine) or climbing the walls (as a result of lack of nicotine) I think it was really worth while and would recommend it to anyone who has a couple of hours to spare in the heart of Manchester.
Having walked past it almost everyday for the last 3 months (and noting that it was free) I decided that it would be worth spending my lunch walking around the Manchester Art Gallery.
I am somewhat conservative when it comes to my taste in art: trees and countryside - pretty, video of naked man chopping wood - "Um!", boats on choppy water - spectacular, ruffled soiled bedsheets - again "how is this art?", portraits of handsome men or beautiful women - impressive, black canvas with highlights of varying degrees of black "Yep, still don't get it!" I am in no way trying to knock modern art. Having lived with an Art Student whilst at university I know the amount of time and effort that goes into creating a piece of art, but I seriously just don't understand it. Sometimes you can see what the artist is trying to impress and I can see how they have gone about it, but some of the more modern art just seems to me to be simply an attempt to shock.
That having been said I spent about 2 hours (yeah I know that technically it is a lunch-HOUR, but the weather is good here at the moment, and the boss had already gone out to lunch when I headed out so no way of telling how long I had been so no-one really minded!) walking through the halls of the gallery, surrounding myself in some fantastic pieces of art. I have to say that I really enjoyed some of the more modern art such as Max Ernst's - La Ville Petrifiee, or Lowry and Valette's views of Manchester (although they are somewhat less than modern now)
At the same time you can wander through halls filled with classical masters such as Jan Van Goyen and Rosetti, and surround yourself in artwork from as early as the late 14th Century.
I think the most striking artists in the exhibitions were Ford Maddow Brown and William Holman Hunt.
Ford Maddox Brown's piece simply entitled 'Work' is a complex view of the values of work, centring on a group of Navies toiling for their daily bread, whilst around them those who either do not need, or choose not to work (for a variety of reasons) continue past them.
William Holman Hunt's piece entitled 'Shadow of Death' is a biblical piece that draws on a fictitious impression of a single day of Jesus' life, although provides representations of his birth and ultimately his death.
Whilst I may well be asleep now before 4pm (as a result of lack of caffeine) or climbing the walls (as a result of lack of nicotine) I think it was really worth while and would recommend it to anyone who has a couple of hours to spare in the heart of Manchester.
Come on Friday!
Well it is here and I can almost smell the weekend!
Although this week has only been a four day week it seems to have taken forever.....for the first time for a while I am not working, travelling or re-enacting and I am looking forward to a weekend for just me, with a chance to lie in (or if I so choose to not get up at all)
The calendar is currently amazingly clear, in fact so far only contains a possible trip to York on Saturday (something that I am really looking forward to....it's been a couple of months since I have been back to York, and I have lot of friends still there so it should be great to catch up with some of the old guys.)
Other than that I'm not sure what to do with my time. I know that at the moment when I have set off to the train station, there has been a large amount of ground mist, and if I can I may head up to Beverley Westwood one morning to watch the sun rise or set, ideally rise (that is if I can drag my carcase out of my pit in time). There is something spectacular in watching the sun rise over Beverley Minister through a band of mist. If I do manage to get there I will endeavour to remember my camera and (sunrise permitting and the photographs being worthy) will put some shots up for "Blogland".
Now all I need to do is clear Friday. This is usually never really a problem.....the first part of the morning spent catching up with what colleagues are planning for the weekend (usually around the coffee machine, and as far away from my desk as possible). Lunch is invariably a somewhat more drawn out activity than normal, and then back to the office for the home stretch, before a dash to the station for the train home. Being a Friday, and with no travel being required at the other end (other than walking home!), it may even warrant a drink on the train. This something that I rarely do, as there is something slightly desperate in climbing onto the train with a six pack of beer, or 2 litre bottle of cider for the journey home (it is even more concerning when it occurs at 6.30am on the journey to work......seriously how can a bottle of superstrength lager be good for you at that time.....and the 'gentleman' in question was dressed in a suit with a briefcase, as though heading to work! I may not love my job, but thankfully things have not got this bad yet!)
Although this week has only been a four day week it seems to have taken forever.....for the first time for a while I am not working, travelling or re-enacting and I am looking forward to a weekend for just me, with a chance to lie in (or if I so choose to not get up at all)
The calendar is currently amazingly clear, in fact so far only contains a possible trip to York on Saturday (something that I am really looking forward to....it's been a couple of months since I have been back to York, and I have lot of friends still there so it should be great to catch up with some of the old guys.)
Other than that I'm not sure what to do with my time. I know that at the moment when I have set off to the train station, there has been a large amount of ground mist, and if I can I may head up to Beverley Westwood one morning to watch the sun rise or set, ideally rise (that is if I can drag my carcase out of my pit in time). There is something spectacular in watching the sun rise over Beverley Minister through a band of mist. If I do manage to get there I will endeavour to remember my camera and (sunrise permitting and the photographs being worthy) will put some shots up for "Blogland".
Now all I need to do is clear Friday. This is usually never really a problem.....the first part of the morning spent catching up with what colleagues are planning for the weekend (usually around the coffee machine, and as far away from my desk as possible). Lunch is invariably a somewhat more drawn out activity than normal, and then back to the office for the home stretch, before a dash to the station for the train home. Being a Friday, and with no travel being required at the other end (other than walking home!), it may even warrant a drink on the train. This something that I rarely do, as there is something slightly desperate in climbing onto the train with a six pack of beer, or 2 litre bottle of cider for the journey home (it is even more concerning when it occurs at 6.30am on the journey to work......seriously how can a bottle of superstrength lager be good for you at that time.....and the 'gentleman' in question was dressed in a suit with a briefcase, as though heading to work! I may not love my job, but thankfully things have not got this bad yet!)
Enough rambling.
Wishing all in "Blogland" a wonderful weekend whatever you are doing!
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