You are my Sunshine, my only sunshine...

Isn't it amazing how different your mood can be be with just a little glimpse of sun? I know that SAD is a recognised medical condition, but it's still one of the poor relations of illnesses. Along with stress, depression and sinus pain, it is scoffed at by happily healthy folks who think that those affected are just swinging the lead to get special priviledges.

Now, I'm not depressed, or suffering from SAD, but I'm more than happy to admit that a little sunshine makes my day that much brighter. Everything seems that little bit more more manageable, and possible suddenly becomes probable.

I'm most definitely a summer person. I love turning my face to the sun and feeling the warmth washing over me. I love wearing pretty airy dresses and skirts, painting my toenails and getting my sandals out. I like to put my heavy winter coats deep into the back of the cupboard, along with the fuzzy jammies and the fleecy robe.

England is slowly coming back to life after it's winter hibernation. Trees are greener, and thermometers are slowly climbing. Staring around my estate, I can see windows opened wide, making the most of the fresh spring breezes. There's a sense of optimism in the air that you can almost smell, and pedestrians have shrugged off their 'huddled against the cold and wind' posture to have put a spring in their step.

Today isn't that bright a day, but still, my internal sun is shining. I may be terrified of going back to work, but I logged into the blog today to discover that someone had nominated me for a sunshine award. Thank you Thea, it made my day and I've proudly stuck the pic at the top of the blog. Now according to the rules of the sunshine award, I have to nominate 12 blogs, but I don't actually follow 12 blogs. However, I'm happy to nominate those I do.

So without further ado my nominees are :

Pren over at Wilcox wizard wares, who runs the bestest Harry Potter Knitting swap ever - http://wilcoxwizardwares.blogspot.com/

http://pumpkinbelleknitsandbits.blogspot.com/ for sharing her knitting challenges with the world.

Jana over at http://justblocked.blogspot.com/ again for sharing her crafting with everyone on the web.

My old friend Jenny because she's a working mum who always has a smile on her face and shares her ups and downs with everyone. http://morganandjenny.blogspot.com/

Gena Showalter - for all the lovely beefacakes, as well as the books http://genashowalter.blogspot.com/

And the lovely Ari foor keeping me sane whilst poorly http://stitchncraft.blogspot.com/

Thanks guys!!

Now here are the instructions for accepting the award!

1. Place the logo within your blog or post.
2. Pass the award on to 12 bloggers.
3. Link the nominees within the post.
4. Let the nominees know they have received the award by commenting on their blogs.
5. Share the love and link to the person from whom you received the award.

I would have nominated Wisson's world of sport, but I don't think that H would find a 'sunshine' award manly enough for his testosterbot meanderings. It's well worth a view though, as his thoughts on travelling and people in general are really well written and very insightful

Right, must go beat the shawl into submission before lunch.
Keep on trucking folks

Alice? Who the F@@k is Alice?

I've been taking my new meds for about 2 weeks now and (fingers crossed) they appear to be working some magic. I'm finally starting to feel a little bit human again, and this week I made an effort to rejoin the land of the living. I've been to the cinema three times this week, for three very different films.

I started the week nice and slowly, deliberately choosing films that had been out for a long time, as I'm not a fan of crowds right now. Valentines Day was my first pick and I was the only person in the screen. Total bliss! The film itself wasn't at all what I had thought it would be, and this became the theme for my whole weeks viewing.

I had thought that this film would be a saccharine sweet ode to love, which would curdle the popcorn in my stomach and leave me cold. I couldn't have been more wrong. It was quietly romantic, with a hefty, but subtle, helping of comedic reality. The whole cast was a veritable who's who's of hollywood, yet no one tried too hard to shine above the others, making this sweet little film one that I'd happily watch again on a girly night in.

Next up was the American contender for the Harry potter throne, Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief. This film had an easy lead over the others, because it stars the lovely Sean Bean as Zeus, King of the Gods. Typecasting I thought;) Still it was nice to see him back in the armour he fills so well.

I can see this franchise doing extremely well with the post-potter crowd. The actor playing Percy is perfect jailbait for that generation and unlike the seemingly endless HP movies, the film had an excellent pace and flow, and didn't drag on forever. Kids love anything quest-like, so I'm surprised that the Greek Gods haven't come in for this treatment before now. Most of the other greek inspired epics have had too high a rating for younger viewers to enjoy them on the big screen. This movie balanced the adult elements beautifully and kept me entertained right to the end.

And finally, Last night I saw Tim Burton's version of Alice in Wonderland. The hype has been huge, and people have been raving about how amazing it is, but as with Avatar, I was a little disappointed.

Don't get me wrong, again like avatar, it was lovely to look at. A veritable feast for the eyes, in fact, but I was expecting a Tim Burton film. Instead I got a traditional Disney movie. Pretty, brightly coloured, bastardised story to suit the Disney crowd, and ever so slightly beige overall.

Tim Burton's films have always seemed, to me at least, to be a little anarchic. Out of the norm, if you know what I mean. I was expecting a totally different reworking of the Alice stories, not a sickly sweet romp through pretty wonderland. Hell, even the Fearsome Bandersnatch was positively cuddly! He could have won Crufts, for crying out loud! Half the kids in my screen went 'awwwwww' when he first appeared, depsite the fact that he was chasing a very IT girl-like heroine through the garden.

Which brings me on to the costumes. The supporting characters were pretty well imagined, if a little safe, but it was Alice's wardrobe that really got my goat. Other than her first and last few outfits, I felt that the costume desinger had totally lost the plot and decided to use the film as her chance to showcase her ideas for Paris Fashion week. The costumes reeked of badly done Haute Couture, and the rather insipid, slightly doped-up looking actress became a mere coat-hanger for the designers high fashion aspirations. Such a pity as the scope for costuming in this film was endless. I did think the make-up was fabulous. Depp's mad hatter looked wonderfully asexual and had tons of wee details on the face to lift the character to new levels

While I'm not the biggest Johnny Depp fan, and therefore a little biased, again I wasn't impressed. I'm afraid all I've seen for the last few films is Jack Sparrow. I'm reminded of that old mothers standard for face pulling children. 'If you're not careful the wind will change and you'll stay like that!' Perhaps Mr Depp's mother forgot to remind him of this?

Now before you all jump in and say 'ooooh but it's so much better in 3D' you need to know that it WAS the 3D version I saw. I have a slight problem with this recent fad. You see unless something is thrown towards the audience, like the rugby ball in the SKY advert before the film, I don't really register the 3D. After 5 or 10 minutes, it could just as easily be plain old 2D for me. I think in the future I'll save myself the surcharge and uncomfortable glasses, and stick to the traditional method of viewing.

Reach out and touch

Yesterday was an amazingly good day. It started very well, with a phone call from an old friend. You see, a good 20 years ago when I was a mere 12 years old, my baby sister got a part as one of the child dancers in the Panto at Belfast's Grand Opera House. My dance teacher was providing all the child dancers, and so she and my mum and I were at the theatre a lot. However, NI, and Belfast in particular still wasn't safe in 1989, and about 2 weeks before it was due to start, the Hotel next door to the theatre was seriously bombed and the theatre took too much damage for the show to happen. Well we all thought that was it. No panto for Belfast that year.

All the actors had come from England and as soon as they heard about the bomb, they hustled straight back to their homes. All but one of them. Tom O'Connor was the star comedian that year, and he decided that he wasn't going to let terrorists ruin christmas for the kids of Belfast. He went on TV and asked for help. A local hotel donated it's ballroom, another it's raised staging. A circus who was shut for winter donated their tiered seating (which ruined the ballroom floor!), and an English company gave costumes and another script. Norn Irish actors came forward to be in it, and the circus provided one of their small juggling acts to help out. Before long instead of the production of Babes in the Woods which had been planned, We had a decent production of Aladdin. Even I got a small role as a 'Lovely Assistant' in the Name That Tune section of the show and I had rehearsed til I dropped.

It was as we were applying for the children's performance licenses that Tom realised his problem. He had asked one of the small fry who had meant to be a 'Babe' in the original production to play the lead role of Aladdin in the new one. However, as he was only 7 or 8, he was only allowed to perform at alternate productions. They were stuck, and that my friends, is how I came to play the lead role on alternate evenings. I got a gorgeous pink and purple satin tunic, though as I was too young to be a real principle boy, I wore leggings below my tunic and not tights. As the kid who was sharing the role was young, the lines were short and sweet and pretty easy to remember.

Tom decided to bring a lot of his family over for christmas including his granddaughter, and as we spent a lot of time at the hotel, we got to know the family pretty well. They were the most kind a generous people I'd ever met and we had so much fun promoting the new show. I got to do lots of promotional things like go on local tv, or take advertising photos. We did two photo shoots which really stood out in my mind. The first was for a Jewellers in Lisburn. I had to sit on the counter wearing about £10,000 worth of jewels. Necklaces, rings, brooches in all shapes and sizes. Smiling was really hard, cos I was terrified that I would drop or break something.

We were there for what felt like hours while the photographers shot frame after frame, so I got a really good look at the stock. In typical 12 year old girl style, I fell in love with some of the jewellery. Not the diamonds, or pearls, or even the sapphire of my birthstone, but a small gold ring with a victorian style cameo on it. I stared and stared, memorising every detail so that I could tell mum what I wanted for christmas. Except when we left the store and got back in the car, Tom gave me a small jewellery box. slowly opening the box, I was more nervous than a desperate 30-something wannabe wife. As the lid lifted and my much coveted ring came into sight, my heart just flipped over. I still have that ring. It doesn't fit anymore, and strangely, I've rarely worn gold since I outgrew it, but I've kept it hidden away.

The other photo shoot was the ultimate dream of any child of the 80's. Those of you who love their cars, will know that the infamous DeLorean, of 'Back To The Future' fame was produced not far from Belfast. There weren't many of the unwieldy but supercool cars made and most people need to go to a museum like the Folk and Transport Museum at Cultra to see one. However, one car was kept in private ownership, and became the focus point of one of our shoots. That's right folks, I got to stretch out on the bonnet of the DeLorean, loaded down in jewels! I'll never be a page three model, but boy was it fun pretending to live the life!

Tom and his family convinced my parents to send me to theatre school, and we swapped christmas cards for years. As with many old friends, we just fell out of practice and lost touch, though I never forgot my experiences. On Monday or Tuesday this week I was calmly watching 'Come Dine With Me' on channel 4 when I heard a familiar voice. I looked up from my knitting to see Tom amongst the guests. He hadn't changed a bit and I was thrilled when he won.

All my memories came flooding back and I decided to try googling him. The first result which came up was his own website, so I emailed the address on there, never really thinking that I'd get any answer from it. Yesterday morning, the phone rang at 8am and it was Tom and his wife. It was as though we had spoken only yesterday, despite the many changes in both our lives. They had had only one grandchild when I knew them, and that number had grown dramatically, and in fact the granddaughter I had babysat for is now doing A-Levels! ok, so now I felt really old, but it was worth it. It was a wonderful way to start the day.

It really is good to talk ;)

It's a waiting game

So those of you who've read the this blog from the start, or who know me in the 'real' world, will know that I've not had a great time over the last year or so. It seems like just as you get one thing going right, another will go wrong to take it's place.

I now know what's wrong with my heart, and on Wednesday I started a new med to try to control the problem. Things were going well for a change, then Thursday dawned. I was sluggish, and tired and really didn't want to get out of bed that day, but I managed it and even made it out of the house for a walk. I was happily daydreaming about buying a big house, as I wandered through the gorgeous show homes on my estate, when my phone rang. Mum...again...well that's what I thought, except instead of gabbling away with the in's and out's of her day she said the words that every child hates to hear.

'Your Granda's not very well, we're waiting for the doctor now'. It's that call, the one that plunges your heart to your feet, before dragging it up to reside in your throat. It's even worse when you live so far away and you can't instantly drop everything to head to his bedside. You sit gazing at the phone, half of you willing it to ring, the other half scared to answer when it does ring.

Granda, has had another heart attack and is now in the hopsital. There is something 'off' with his heart. That is in fact the current technical term the docs are using, so obviously I'm very reassured. I'm even more reassured, because when I called the ward to speak to him, the nurse told him I was my mum, then tried to tell me he was 'confused' when she thought he was using the wrong name for his daughter. Isn't it reassuring to know that the NHS service is just as crap in NI as it is here in England?

So what do you do when you're waiting around for the phone to ring and are trying not to brood? Me? I bake! After all, stressed, is desserts spelt backwards and I find baking something sweet the quickest way to chill myself out. So I flipped the switch on the oven and trawled through the thousands of recipes I have for something new to try. I came up with these vampire cookies, a recent find for a swap I'm involved with over on ravelry.

They were really simple to put together and as you'll see from the pics they turned out ok... well I think they did.

Even more importantly, they killed the time I need to kill. Mum has just rung to say that the hospital are releasing him, and letting him go home. Unstable angina, brought on by the smorgasbord of tablets they had him on, so they're cutting a lot of the meds out for the future.

So my wonderful, funny, caring, amazing grandfather is on the mend, thank God. It may be mothers day this weekend guys, but don't forget the Granmas and Grandas that brought your mothers into this world. Appreciate every minute you have with them, for they are very precious and are gone far too quickly.

Mama, I love you, Mama I care

So by now my mother has been to visit and returned home to Belfast again. I love my mum to bits, but boy is she tiring. The woman is amazing. Despite knee surgery three weeks ago, she is a one woman shopping dynamo and nothing stops her. I’ve always had trouble keeping up with her, but with the way my health is at the minute it’s ten times worse than usual.

Mum was always a typical ‘mum’. She cooked, cleaned and provided a taxi service to all the usual childhood clubs and classes. When my sister and I took up dance classes, we discovered how far behind Northern Ireland was when it came to culture. The only way to buy ballet shoes was to draw around your foot, then write your name on it and mail it to Freed of London. They would figure out your size and send you back a pair of shoes. Mum wasn’t having this and immediately set about opening a shop to cater to the dancewear market. That was 20 years ago, and though there are now other shops, her shop is still the top place for dance costumes and accessories in Northern Ireland.

Like many women, my mother is a woman of many contradictions. She is tiny and feminine, yet I get the feeling she could successfully manage an army with just one raised eyebrow. Many men I know are terrified of her even though at 4’9 and a half (that half is very important peeps), she’s hardly of an intimidating stature, in fact I think she falls under the legal definition of a little person.

My mum is a nurse, and she’s been through many various nursing incarnations. As long as I can remember, she was a night duty nurse on an ENT ward. A few years back, she decided to go back to Uni, completing both a diploma and a degree, which meant she could convert to children’s nursing. She spent a few years on the Children’s ENT ward, before accepting a post as a nurse in a special school.

I think I can safely say that Mum found her niche. She is amazingly dedicated, even going as far as visiting her young charges when they are hospitalised. She’s always in school early, and often leaves after the teachers.

Like many mothers, she does take a lot of interest in her children’s lives and those of you who know me, will have heard me complain about the amount of daily phone calls I get from her (upt to 7 or more a day at times!). My sister is totally different, she only answers the phone when she feels like it. This means that I regularly get calls asking me what my sister is up to, despite the fact that my sis lives 25 minutes away and I never see her.

However, much as I can be annoyed at times, I know that my mother is unique. Not only is she amazingly generous, but she’s surprisingly open-minded as parents go. How many other children can say that they’ve gone shopping for a transvestite or a lap dancer...with their mother? Or that their mother was the one to invite a boyfriend to stay over? The best bit, well I think it’s the best bit, is that my mum even watches porn. Ok, the soft focus cheesy crap that used to be on channel 5 after 11, but still, you have to admit. I have the coolest mum in the world!

I’ll add that to my list shall I?

I’ll be honest and admit that being off work for so long has been driving me crazy. As any of you who know me in real life will testify to, I’m a workaholic. I love being busy, and will never do just one thing at a time if there is the possibility of doing more. I’m never happier than when I have the opportunity to make lists. Lists are my life! How did anyone ever survive without them?

By week four, despite my sleep problems getting worse, I am finally able to read normally again, and am starting to think that I should maybe have shares in Amazon. I’ve been spending a lot of time on Ravelry and the lovely ladies over there are more than happy to point you in the direction of yet another vampire book series. It seems that there is no end to the paranormal romance phenomenom, and just like life it comes in all shapes and sizes. No matter what you’re in the mood for, you can find a supernatural book to suit you.

Whether it’s the sex and violence of J.R Ward’s Black Dagger Brotherhood, Kelley Armstrong’s strong women, or the Bridget Jones-esque antics of Katie McAlister’s heroines, there is quite literally something for everyone. I’m loving nearly all of them, as my moods these days are as quick to change as the capricious British weather, and thanks to having a dicky ticker, I still have no life to speak of.

The lists this week have been more about cleaning than fun things. My mum is arriving this evening to lend some moral support. She’s going to go with me later in the week to see the specialist, and I get the feeling she is planning on kicking ass while she is at it. Like me, mum has had enough of indecision and lack of answers. I’m so pleased she’s going to be with me, but her arrival means that I’ve had to tidy the flat.

My flat is generally clean, but I just don’t do tidy. Why keep putting something away when you’re going to use it again in an hour or two or even a day or two? It’s not like you’re tripping over things, or that I’m hoarding newspapers from 50 years ago. I’m not even as bad as an old flatmate who used to keep bags of rubbish in his room. No matter though, when family or friends arrive, we have this urge to tidy and clean and put on a show. Why aren’t we happy to be ourselves? Why can’t we assume that our loved ones will accept us for who we are and the way we like to live? So I’ve decided that this is the last time. If you want to judge me by the way I live fine, but I’m going to be me. From now on, y’all will just have to take me as you find me.