Ma Bete Noire

My Bete Noire is Paperwork. Home paperwork. I hate it with a fiery vengeance. I mean, after all I am a civil Servant - I do paperwork every day of my working life - I should be used to it by now.

But no and there lies the rub - at work I am PAID to do paperwork, at home I am not AND it impinges on time for my creative side. When wading through paperwork I'm not having fun. I am not enjoying myself. And certainly not being paid to do it, so no incentive there either.

So, to those of you that know me, I often refer to Mount Paperwork. Here is the evidence. You will note two frames as well - these are obviously not paperwork, but some photo manipulation and re-sizing work I said I would do for some friends. You see, I would enjoy doing that rather than the paperwork, but not going to do it until I have done some paperwork - the whole pleasure/pain syndrome.

They may have to wait some time .........

WOYWW - Debut!

WOYWW - What's on Your Work desk Wednesday - debut! My Teamies and those that know me will be impressed that I refrained from tidying it up before I took the photo - but I managed it! So, what is on my work desk?

Mainly my sewing machine - the first time it has been out since DD stopped dancing just before she went to uni and no more costumes to make. The reason it was dusted off was to alter her BF sister's prom dress. A beautiful creation from China with 3 layers of material, the top being chiffon, a sequined and beaded bodice, and a train. Easy peasy lemon squesy - NOT! Of course it took a lot longer than I anticipated, but well worth it - she looked beautiful. Plus I enjoyed the girls' company whilst sewing, trying on, sewing, trying on, layer at a time, train and strap removal. Hence the blue box which has all my sewing threads in, the multi coloured binder - my overflow ATC (ACC!) collection and the inchies on the shelf - I was just adding the fab orange ones from the last swap - and other things that they went through, making all the right oooohs and aaaaahs at the art work. Then the Circle Journals, mini books, scrapbooks, yada, yada, keeping them entertained whilst the sewing machine was doing what it does best. Talking of company, you may spot Boo - DD Furbie lurking in the corner - he occasionally wakes up and then goes back to sleep snoring, normally making me jump because I forget he's there. The circular Nestibility thingy is a coloured image I was experimenting with for a thank you card. Pretty random stuff really, all of which I am about to clear so that I can tackle Mount Paperwork before making curtains, cushions and runner .... but both of those are other stories. As is The Bean.......

WOYWW

What's on your Work desk Wednesday, or WOYWW to those of us in the know, a brilliant idea by a fellow Dolly Diva teamie of mine, Mrs Dunnit, from over on UKS - and hence the new avatar link to it on the right. Despite having managed to acquire the link and work out how to show it on my blog, I am ashamed to admit that I haven't managed to join in yet - for 2 weeks.

This week I blaming work sending me away for 2 days and me only arriving home Wednesday night and my desk was clear because I hadn't done any crafting for a week, so I couldn't join in. Again. But, watch this space for next week. Well, not THIS space exactly, my work space. Not at WORK, you understand, but at home. My Home Work Space. I hope. I have the WOYWW and I'm not afraid to use it. Puggled, maybe, but definitely not afraid.

Anyhoo, it's Jules' fault - she mentioned banana muffins and I couldn't get the visual out of my mind, or the virtual taste. HOME MADE banana muffins, I hesitate to add. And THEN the mention of strawberries, my favourite, let alone what else was on her desk!!!!!!

Next week it is then.......

Oh, and I am not even going to mention the G word. I have a very bad case of Bean Envy. Green Bean Envy, to be precise.

Hoops - an Olympic Sport for the Workplace

I have a love/hate relationship with my job and tonight I don't have the strength for either. I learned a long time ago to dance on a shifting carpet so that no-one could pull the rug from under me. And then I took on my latest role. On 1st April. April Fools Day. I should have spotted the Omen. But, ever the optimist, me.

If Jumping Through Hoops was an Olympic Sport, I would now qualify for a Gold Medal. With danger money.

I have spent 2 weeks discovering how to do something new. With dire consequences, if anything goes wrong, and, hence, The Hoops. I have spoken to, researched and consulted with the Workpace and his Dog to reach the end game today. I have also learned that, if all else fails, go with The Dog.

So, there I was, with The Dog, jumping happily through hoops late this afternoon and smiling with a Satisfied-With-A-Job-Well-Done smirk - and someone lit the hoops mid-leap. Then drowned the work of the last 2 weeks in an attempt to put the fire out. I wasn't at all sure where the resultant smoke and steam was coming from, until a colleague pointed out it was from me. Out of my ears and very probably not the only orifaces. But the only ones I'm admitting to. I have now pointed one VIP to the opposing VIP and said I would simply do whatever the Winner decides and settle for position of Third Place.

Mutter Chunter. Learning Curve? More like a bl**dy Harrier Jump Jet leap. Mutter Chunter.

The G Word

I don't do the G word - Gardening. I have always worked full time and, especially when the children were little, hubby and I developed a split of duties - I did the house, finances and kids, hubby did the cars, garden and kids and everything else was shared according to who was doing what hours at work or taxi duty for various child activities. Of course now that they are both in their 20s things are very different. Except for the gardening.

Now, don't get me wrong, I love our garden. The best bit being when I'm reclining on something soft with a little something else chinking gently with ice in one hand and a good book in the other, preferably in the shade. The closest I get to gardening is when I point out the odd weed he's missed. Lucky weed, because those of you that have seen our garden, know that nothing is allowed to grow taller than hubby and his idea of pruning involves an electric hedge trimmer. I jest not when I say we have square conifers with flat tops and, when I manage to find my camera from the somewhere safe I put it during a recent flurry of housework, I will post photographic evidence. [Edited to add - found it!]

Because of this, dear hubby has refused in recent years to let me have a greenhouse on the grounds that I won't have any time for it because of everything else I do and he will end up doing that as well as the rest of the garden. With large hands and fingers like bananas, the closest he gets to seedlings are the plug plants we buy from the local wherever. But, not this year. This year, in a fit of pique, I spotted a 14 squid plastic greenhouse, bought it, got son to assemble it and had seeds planted before hubby got home. HA! Not only that, I, again aided and abetted by son because the canes were 7 feet tall and I'm only short, created a potted cane wigwam ready for the runner beans when they sprouted. DOUBLE HA! He may have the green fingers, but I have the green house. It must be the nurturer in me because I have cooed and watered and poked and transplanted with loving optimism the odd bean that was attempting to sprout (despite me having nearly fried them under the plastic during the mini heatwave). Then the weather changed and they are now shivering in the pot at the base of the wigwam and not looking at all hopeful.

Perhaps it's just as well I'm the only one that actually likes green beans, which is a shame too really, because I'd planted a yellow variety just for the sheer hell of it.

Here we go

None of my varied life had actually prepared me for the effects of cognitive analytical therapy – the receiving end. I hope this therapy will help overcome my remaining health issues, stop the need for medication and finally release me from specialist medical care. The therapist has encouraged me to keep a diary, journal, or whatever, and hence this blog.

Whilst, of course, daily holding down my career, being that dutiful daughter, good wife, loving mother, avid crafter (still not necessarily in that order) plus all-round puggled person I seem to be just now. May the random ramblings commence ...