Credit Crunch bites

There's a kind of undertone of panic in the air. Businesses are going bust, Woolies has suddenly gone, taking with it those warm childhood memories of Pic and Mix and our first single. (Mr Blue Sky)
When banks are in trouble things get scary. Mum's pension doesn't cover her overheads. Not eligible for council tax relief. Time to start Making do and Mending...and fast.

A Giggle at the Shops

Looking around the supermarket shelves today I had a giggle at a particular box of chocolates: Gordon Ramsey's "Secrets". Art imitating life?

We don't need no educashun...

I feel like a total nag at the moment. Parents, take note. My daughter is in her GCSE year and doesn't have time to draw breath. She's taking 10 subjects and, these days, the emphasis is on those elusive things: A star grades. I accompanied her to a sixth form open day in which tutors and students were available to talk through options.
"I don't know what I wanna do..." was the familiar cry. So my daughter took me through several departments and she doesn't know either. But one of the options she;s considering is medicine and that's extremely grown up/demanding. But the other thing she is good at is design and she quite likes the idea of commerce and smart offices. This is when parenting gets tough.

Is it in the Stars?

Is there something happening with the planets at the moment? I feel like everything I'm trying to make progress with is hitting snags.
The hubby and I keep bickering, in fact he's on a night out (best described as a p*** up) with a load of football fans as we speak. Shouldn't he be past all this at 42?

Ross and Brand (my thoughts)

I listened to the offending piece on You Tube and found it funny...at first. However, it simply went on too long and too far. Boys will be boys but the difference when you are a middle aged boy is that you know when to stop. Hopefully before you've shot yourself in the foot. I actually do find it offensive when people say crude things in front of my children.
But another point I have been pondering is that maybe this "row" is in fact not so much about these two but a shift in public taste.
Times are tough and maybe people are feeling less "frivolous" right now. A debate about public morality is interesting.

You wear it well

I was leafing through a glossy magazine the other day when I caught a whiff of perfume. It was an advert for a new perfume, Notorious. When I opened the sleeve and sniffed I was suddenly reminded of the perfume Opium and my student days. I used to always wear it when going out at night.
Isn't it funny how a scent can "belong" to someone? My mum's friend always had Chanel no. 5 soap, and I can always recognise Allure on anyone.
Ysatis is a walkway of shops in Singapore 20 years ago for me.
Yes, perfume is truly evocative.
My 13 year old son, on the other hand, has started spraying Lynx. There is such a thing as spraying too much...

Long project finished

My latest portrait has proved quite difficult. The sitter is really busy and is not available to come for sittings. So I managed to complete the whole thing in just two life sittings and the rest using photographs.
We haven't really discussed money but I expect I'll be lucky to cover costs.

To graze or not to graze?

We have a field at the back of the house and I've been thinking about getting two small cattle to graze.
Research tells me that the Dexter breed is small and friendly. And owning grazing animals gets over the problem of having overgrown grass.
The down side, of course, is that if you have beef cattle you will probably become attached to them and not want them to become meat when the time comes.
The alternative would be to have dairy cattle but I can't see me in wellingtons and a nightie out milking at 6am every day!
But since getting the rabbit and watching her graze her little patches of grass, I can see the sense in having grazing animals.
Only problem is, my hubby doesn't want to know. Anyone got any experience of smallholdings?

Getting to know you

My son and I were at the pet store buying dog food and I called him over to look at the budgies and rabbits. Wasn't really thinking about getting one but L almost persuaded me to buy a trio of quails. (apparently they come in threes, one male and two females. Typical huh?)
I had a canary as a teenager and I remember the process of cage cleaning and letting it fly then - the hard but, getting it back into the cage again.
I think if we're honest no-one likes to see animals in a cage but it's something we've bred over the years.
My son asked if he could have the little black and white rabbit that was looking fed up in the cage and - you guessed it - I ended up agreeing.
So now Flo is getting to know Zena the dog and I'm getting to know all about those little dry bunny rabbit pellet poos.
Great stuff. But the boy is happy.

Portrait finished

I think I've finally finished J's portrait. A tough few days in a dark, dusty garage trying to bring the piece together. However, I do not want to turn obssessive compulsive about my sculpture so that's it. (as long as she likes it..)

Everyone's having babies (except me)

A lot of couples I know are expecting at the moment. There's my sister in law in Canada expecting her fourth child, two others having fourths, and a couple of others due firsts. (one from a second relationship.)
It's strange because it's more than 12 years since I was pregnant, (I was in my 20s) and my kids are adolescents now.
I often wanted a third child but my hubby always felt two was enough.
Lucky for those who can "churn them out" easily. My husband's cousin has been trying IVF for years and are on a break before trying again. They've had heartbreak along the way.
A couple in my village couldn't conceive and went on to adopt two children. Then what do you know, the mum fell pregnant naturally and wejnt from no children to three, almost overnight.

The car's the star

Bonnie Scotland

Back from three weeks of touring the Western Isles and can't get over the beauty of that area.
Started off camping at Hadrian's Wall and walking a short stretch of it, then taking the van the long way up towards the far flung corners of the north.
Good couple of days in Edinburgh, we took part in an Auld Reekie Ghost Walk and the guide, Luke, (he was great) pulled me out of the crowd to play the part of a "witch." (How did he know I have a bent finger on my left hand?) Luckily, when I had to scream as the crowd shouted for me to be "burnt at the stake" it came out as a loud ear splitting shriek which could be heard for miles. Didn't know I could act.
Orkney is beautiful, but I didn't enjoy the rough eight hour ferry crossing and spent most of the time hunched over a sickbag. Hey ho.
But the real star of the show was the VW Camper Van. It was stared at, photographed and admired throughout the journey. I knew these vans were cool but I had no idea of their iconic status throughout the generations. Has to be a retro marketing opportunity there?

Hi from the Hebrides

A quick post to say I'm wending my way back to mainland Uk after three weeks on Scotland. At the moment on Uist, a VERY remote but beautiful island.
More on my return..and photos of our 1965 VW camper which is an absolute celebrity.
It is the most photographed vehicle I have ever been in!

Away a while

On vacation in the Scottish isles soon so apologies in advance for lack of blog posts. Updates on my return. Good weather, please. Can there be any more rain left in the sky? Anyone know any sun dances?

Teen crime

So finally the red top papers have got around to "tackling knife crime." It's not as if we didn't know about it.
But what can be done about urban areas that have been no-go areas for a long time now. Are they really left alone to "police" themselves? Is there some underlying cultural issue to do with male dominance, rites of passage.
And what about the drug culture? What looks glamourous on Amy Winehouse is a lot less so without rockstar mansions and luxury rehab. (actually I really like Amy Winehouse.)
Or is it just the tabloids scaremongering again?

Hectic end of term

Everything's happening at once again. End of term, packing for Scotland, cricket matches.
My son's team is though to the county finals so it's cricket every night at the moment. And I still don't understand it.
But what an ace bowler he is. Got someone out last time, hit two wickets.

Torso on display

No, not mine. Well, yes mine but the one I sculpted from plaster. It's on display at the local summer arts show and, if I do say so myself, it doesn't look half bad.
All that sanding down and backache was worth it.

Entertainment with a message - and an edge

The kids and I were privileged to be in the audience of Lupe Fiasco on Friday evening. It was a huge audience for the Jazz World stage, one of the smaller stages.
This young hip hop artist delivered an entertaining set and gave a passionate speech about Bush and Mugabe, and proclaimed that hip hop deserves its place on the stages of Glastonbury.
The crowd, my kids and me too, we all agreed.

(catch the performance on You Tube)

My first Glastonbury

So I left on Thursday after picking the kids up from school and started the three hour drive to the site of Glastonbury 2008. Headliner Jay Z.
We had a smooth run (after a short whinge from my son that he didn't have his Nintendo DS) and queued for about an hour before being directed into a field for parking.
Then began the first of many long walks - about two miles - to the site carrying heavy bags to our tent. My hubby and brother had gone up ahead and pitched tents, something that had not been easy. Imagine having to walk back three miles because you left something behind.
A beer on the busy food field sorted out my slight fatigue, and I declined my brother's offer of strawberry cider as I'm not a fan of sweet drinks.
That night, in tents, the rain lashed down. The wind blew. And a boy and girl tried to pitch their tent. And people ran around drinking and shouting. Our tent was lovely and dry.
The next night, a group of young men and a girl pitched right next to us, and began a three day binge.
I got back to find they had rigged up a tarpaulin using my tent as stability, taken a couple of tent pegs, and helped themselves to other people's guy ropes and chairs.
I began removing their tarpaulin and a guy jumped out. Then my hubby came back and took over. The young man sort of had a hissy fit and said we were being unreasonable. We agreed to move our tent over and D sorted out their tarpaulin so that they had an entrance to their lair. We don't mind sharing but...
Music was good, saw Kate Nash and my kids' favourite, Lupe Fiasco the hip hop guy.
The next night in the tent was not good. They were on substances to keep them awake all night, before resuming drinking and smoking in the morning.
I think I got about 30 mins sleep that night.
We also found out that theft was a problem, my brother had £50 taken from his jeans and my wellies got stolen from outside the tent. (disaster in the mud!)
That apart, it was a fantastic weekend and I recommend everyone to go once - but don't take anything of any value!

Elvis isn't dead

Went to watch my 12 year old son perform in a school concert tonight. It was the sort of thing I used to dread when they were younger, but now I don't get to go to that many (very few actually) and every day is a sort of battleground between the generations, I truly relished tonight's show.
In typical school style, there were a couple of cool things on the programme, a couple of geeky things and then the just plain naff.
My son was in the naff category: his class got to sing Chitty Chitty bang bang wearing flat caps and home made car wheels. But they looked cute.

While other lucky people got to sing the very wonderful Elvis isn't Dead by Scouting for Girls.
Just fantastic.

Bubbleacious

I got some old bubbles out that I have had since the children were young, and found that they still worked.
It was a mad moment - I'm getting ready for Glastonbury at the weekend, cooking and cleaning for hours a day and also playing "smily hostess" to our French visitor.
We eat too early for him - 6pm instead on 9pm - so he wasn't that hungry.

Oh well, at least he likes my cooking and eats everything. Makes cooking worthwhile, I think.

A great British breakfast

Our first 24 hours with M, the French student, have gone well.
I met him from the coach (once I'd established the right person) and then we went for a pizza before joining a load of teenagers for bowling in town.
The ten pin bowling arena is a hellhole of blaring music, bouncers, flashing lights and overweight parents outside in the smoking area (no offence) swearing at their own children. Classy. Vicky Pollard springs to mind.
My daughter didn't want my hubby and I to stay (she's at the "you're so embarrassing") stage.
So we watched Croatia against Turkey at the local pub (on the screen I mean) and I people watched for a couple of hours.
This morning my hubby cooked a great British breakfast; eggs, organic bacon and sausages, beans and toast.
M commented that the food was good, but he had heard that cooked English breakfasts were awful. Well they are in many a cafe or service station, as many of us know. In fact, there's nothing worse than a greasy fry up.

Our language has turned to Franglais, which in the case of my hubby is a dodgy mix of Inspector Clouseau style French mixed with Liverpool.
Also, we find ourselves telling silly stories, like the one about the peregrine falcon that my hubby D took 20 long minutes over.
Martin was spellbound.

I miss my dog so much

I can still hear her, feel her, smell her...but it's in my imagination as she's gone.

Getting ready for a French invasion

Have been frantically cleaning the last few days, as my daughter's French correspondant is joining us from Paris for six days. They are being whisked around the country by coach - the delights of Oxford, Stratford and Wales' very own Big Pit, and a quick jaunt to London before they get back on the Eurostar.
We spend the weekend together, and have to think of an outing that's fun for a 13 year old.
Alton Towers sounds like a nightmare, but you get the idea...
But a trip to Birmingham's own Ladypool Road, home of the balti and table naan, could be on the cards.

Just because you're on a diet doesn't mean you can't look at the menu

So said a letter from a 57-year-old reader in a rather homely women's magazine.
She was saying how much she had enjoyed an issue in which hunky guys were featured and one was on the front cover.
She has a point. Women like to look at guys as much as men like to appreciate women throughout their lives. It's just that society/the media doesn't allow it.

More work on P

Another oil painting class yesterday and more work on my painting of life model P. Which means more frustration as my colours are a bit cool.
A lady I have started to get to know blurted out (quietly) to P that she thought he had a great body. She wondered whether he was single.
It sounded as though he wasn't. Oh dear.

Careers Advice Needed

My nephew graduated last year with a 2.1 in philosophy/law. (more philosophy than law) and he's still doing what I call "bitty jobs."
Working in a bar, supermarket, all part time stuff. I suggested to him that he apply for some graduate training programmes which he is doing, but they're not easy to get onto.
I've had a go at persuading him to do accountancy, as I read it was in demand. I wasn't bowled over by his enthusiasm.
Anyone got any advice?

What not to wear

Trinny and Susannah would have a field day with me. Today, I'm wearing unflattering sandals, no nail varnish, and an apron.
But it's because I'm working with plaster outside. I'm blessed with a teenage daughter with a great fashion sense, who can knock years off my age without taking me to the realms of the embarrassing. I may spend time in Top Shop et al but I refuse to wear those glitzy, ditzy little bits of fabric.
I know what Trinny and Susannah et al are saying: I agree that us British ladies are probably the worst dressed around.
You see ladies of other nationalities in town and working in the stores, and they seem so stylish: hair swept up, make up etc. Too glam for ToolsRUs etc.

Dilemma

I'm trying to do my own work as an artist but it's not exactly fast progress. I'm doing one lady's portrait, she's not available for another sitting until July 4th, and I only get a few hours in the week to do the work.
I've been considering doing some teaching and I could probably do that very part time. But the other thing I have looked at is using art therapy with dementia patients, a post which has been advertised. The only thing is, when you look into some of the behaviours associated with dementia it's clearly a demanding role.
I have read of wandering, abuse hurling, physical things etc.
Yet art and music are known to help sufferers and are used to stimulate the parts of the mind that are still accessible.
Just mulling it all over, really.
So often, when people teach, they say their own work goes out the window. Yet creativity is essentially there to share.

Guys and perfect buns

When I arrived at oil painting class today, I groaned when I found out it was a life class. Drawing the figure is just the most difficult, tedious thing. (I think).
But when I found out the model was a guy, not that old, and in fact he had a great body and was to post naked in a "manly" pose, I perked up considerably.
Luckily, I had the back view, and the model really did have a perfect behind, almost as though it had been carved.
Not that I told him that, though.

Banning negative thoughts

I just had a negative thought and then quickly banished it, as instructed to do by the Secret. Also, my anti-sadness thought at the moment is to picture Vince from the Mighty Boosh (aka Noel Fielding) in his platforms saying: "Hi, Gary," to Gary Numan.

Summing up the Secret

Finally got around to watching The Secret, that film about "getting what you want in life."
Actually, it wasn't as bad as I thought, although it could be summed up in two words: Think Positive.
I liked the idea of focussing on something that you want and then visualising it. I decided to try something achievable, like a fitness drive, so a picture of Elle MacPherson is going on the fridge. The idea being, my figure starts to look like hers..

And God Created Woman

At sculpture today I had to model a Brigitte Bardot pose for a lady who's sculpting her. It was a sultry, seated pose when Brig was in her heyday. Tough act to follow, but an excuse to buy capri pants and kitten heels.

Farewell Lucy all my love xxx

Hello darkness my old friend

It's horrible right now. I'm waiting three hours until the vet comes to put Lucy, my 16 year old collie mix, to sleep.
Old age, arthritis and incontinence has taken a grip. She came into our lives when I was still a young thing, even before having children. She used to love collecting sticks and annoying builders and all visitors with them in her younger days, depositing them gently at people's feet.
She was Lucy Dog when the kids were little, not the brightest dog (it was the red setter in her) she would bark at nothing for hours sometimes.
But fun, warm and lively, lots of happy memories.

I remember when rock was young

Elton John is selling his pianos at Bonhams. This news got me excited, even though I'm not really an Elton fan. Apart from "I guess that's why they call it the blues."
But anyway, did you know that his first UK number one single was in fact Don't Go Breaking My Heart, a duet with Kiki Dee?
And if you have at least £35,000 you could own the piano on which that song was performed.
It is a Model D grand piano in a burr maplewood finish together with matching concert adjustable stool. If only I'd kept up my piano lessons beyond grade 5.

Costa del deserted

I've been going to a particular part of the Spanish coast for nearly 20 years now. Only because a friend has an apartment there. It used to be a cheap way of grabbing some sunshine and a few cold beers without having to try too hard.
Don't know if it's the credit crunch but the place where I stay, near Fuengirola, was decidedly quiet. It's not the full summer season but the cafes were quiet, some not even open.
If you believe the Sunday papers everybody's cutting budgets and camping this year, which given the weather so far - yet more rain - is a challenge for all but the most seasoned outdoor types.
Sunday afternoon in Mijas was nice, herbs spread out on the ground for a festival.

Apologies for lack of blog

Have been away in Spain enjoying the "delights" of easyjet and the costa del sol where the local internet cafes are simply too seedy to spend longer than one nanosecond.
Hopefully both my regular readers won't have missed me too much!

Wish my hubby came with a manual

That was my best joke of yesterday.

Self portrait

I've got two portrait projects on the go now. The photo is of an underpainting of myself. I did it in oil painting class the other day. We're a mixed bunch of ladies and one guy. Can't help noticing that one particular lady has a crush on the tutor. I can understand why, he's good looking and talented and the only tutor under 40 in the college I think.
But it's got a bit embarrassing.I mean, if you're gonna wear that much make up at least apply it properly. And the rest of us have paid for tuition, not to watch those two flirting. Meeow.

It's a hot one

It was 28 degrees today, one of those seductive summer days when you don't want to do anything apart from chill out with a long, cold drink. Pimms with ice, lemonade, strawberries and mint.
Also the sort of weather that makes people cranky and bump into things.
I finished my painting after getting twiddly with a palette knife. I decided that enough is enough.

Have you seen the Secret?

I was just browsing some art websites when I came across a film/book called The Secret. American, of course, it claims to potentially unlock the secret to health, wealth and happiness. And it gets pretty good reviews. I wonder, could a team of life coaches really spur you on to do something great?
I'm going to watch the Secret, so I'll let you know.
Seems like Harry Potter mystique has gone to all our heads these days!

Hairdo Day

Two new paintings

Been working with oils. It's quite hard, keeping the colours separate and not muddling them up. I think my work is a little like Van Gogh...and I'm only nearly as crazy.

painting the landscape

Just been taking some pictures of the glorious late spring landscape with a view to doing an oil painting. Been in winter scruff clothes so long it seems a shock to see bare flesh about the place.

Laser yes or no?

My friend, S, had laser eye corrective surgery and recommends it to everyone. She has suggested it to me several times, and I know what she means. The thought of not having to wear glasses/contacts after 25 years is very appealing.
Opticians, naturally, sway towards not having it done as there is the argument that a myopic person like me won't need reading glasses. If I have it done, I probably will.
Other friends say how nice I look in glasses and how many cool frames there are around now. That's true, too.
Don't know what to do really. Your thoughts?

Happy Birthday Ma

With lots of love xx

If I was on the Apprentice..

I caught about half the Apprentice on tv last night, and watched a very young, nervous but endearing blond guy get "ripped apart" by the business sharks, Sir Alan et al.
Their idea, which had to relate to the greetings card industry, faltered a bit. They wanted to produce cards on a green theme, but of course the point about consumption is that you don't buy cards...
However, maybe it's not as bad as it sounds. You could still use an occasion such as Christmas to remind people of other issues. For example, my card would be of the rainforest and, with some Photoshop magic, add fake snow. As well as Seasons' Greetings, I would print on the back: no trees were felled to make this card. (as I would use recycled materials..)Or maybe you could take a theme, like chestnuts roasting on an open fire, and link it to fuel consumption.
The other team's idea, a "happy singles day" to coincide with Valentine's, went down surprisingly well, and sold a whopping 19,500 to a greetings card company.
The green idea sold much less, just 6,000 to Tescos but still not bad considering.
Glad I don't have to try and sell...I'm useless at it.

Don't call me madam

I hate being called "madam", it makes me feel so old. A young girl asked me if I "wanted chocolate on your capuccino, madam," today.
I feel like the Dick Emery character who used to hiss: "miss," when called madam.
But it's true, it's a long time since I've been a miss, and unlike Lulu I don't have the elixir of youth.

Clever Marketing

I ended up ordering a Jack Wills sweater even though it costs quite a bit more than I would usually spend. (although tbh I got this nearly new on ebay.) I was curious about what the attraction was.
Opened up the wrapper, seemed like many other fashion tops.
Then I look at the labelling: just like school/college outfitters. Clever.
(However my daughter is "label proof" as it happens.)

Spring has sprung

The blossom is sprouting out at last and the birds are getting busy. Also, the first of the year's bluebells are out. Got to catch it while it lasts..you never know when it's going to start raining again.

Indignity of old age

My older, dog, Lucie, is 16 now. In doggie years that's over 100. So you have to be understanding in the fact that she's pretty incontinent now. Have got used to newspapers, mops etc but the whole process, I must admit, is quite wearing.
But she's been around so long, that I sort of feel duty bound to care for her.
All the love, the fun, (and the clearing up) we have had.

Reasons to be cheerful

I finally remembered my "bags for life" at the supermarket and didn't need a single carrier. Pat on the back for me.

Chavs and Chav Nots

My daughter, A, was telling me about Jack Wills branded clothes and how popular they are among people she knows.
I googled Jack Wills and read the Wikipedia description of a "British clothing and accessories retailer aimed at young upper class British students."
They are a sort of British version of Abercrombie and Fitch, popular among young royals and A list celebrities. They also hold social events and have a networking site.
So the class system really is still going strong...
And I thought everyone wore Primark these days.

back from the Isle

Got back late last night after docking in at Liverpool early evening. Had been at Douglas on the Isle of Man to watch D in the first Lotus car race of the year. The 1962 Elite kept breaking, so it was good that we took a tool kit.
You know what it's like, the bonnet of a car comes up and suddenly six guys appear and start scratching their heads.
The public roads were shut for the event and we had "base" in some quiet residential streets. The householders were very generous about letting race drivers leave their cars, trailers, gear etc stacked up against the garden walls.
Walked out with a tall lady called B to view from a point called Hairpin Bend, and my little legs had to run to keep up with her.
But we had a great view, saw some cars spin when they took the corner too fast. My hubby's car didn't like the steep hills and kept conking out mid-race. Never mind.
Heard lots of stories about the TT races, and in our age of health and safety you wonder how long it can keep going in that format. There are no MOTs on the Isle, and fewer rules and regs.
Oh, and I remembered to say "Good Morning Faeries" over Fairy Bridge. It's the custom, you know. And the island does have a sort of eerie atmosphere, set against the powerful backdrop of the Atlantic. I'm sure real faeries do exist there.

Hi from the Isle of Man

Am in the Isle of Man this weekend to watch some car racing. More on my return home. A noisy early morning drive to Liverpool in the Lotus and then, thankfully, a smooth crossing on the Steam Packet. (I'm an awful sailor. Don't have my sea legs.)
Have done the whole island, really, but enjoyed a blowy walk to the top of Snaefell.
Would love to come when the TT is on. Drove some of the course and can't believe that motorbikes zoom along at 145mph. Terrifying!

More thoughts about class

I muse on the issue of class quite a lot. My kids went to a "prep" school but I went to a primary school. I say "homework", friends say prep.
I know about tuck and lights out because my sister won a ballet scholarship and went to a rather austere boarding school when she was 11.
From our experiences, I wouldn't recommend it. There's nowhere like home and your own room when you're growing up, I think.
My sister had to share with five other girls in a draughty old dorm that was about as welcoming as a dentist's waiting room.
I think us state school kids had it easier, in those days. We finished at 3.50pm and just walked 10 minutes home. We thought we had it hard if we did two hours of homework, but our weekends were our own.
My daughter has to do all this "character building" stuff. Camp outs in the rain, meeting academic targets etc etc.
And what about gap year travel? Adventure travel is popular now and there's much to be gained from new experiences taken out of the comfort zone. But what about the down side?
I went straight to college from school, although I had travelled as a youngster with my dad's work. He was a pilot in the RAF and then the airlines, so we went to some exotic places.
But adventure travel means something different today and I think demand may be increasing. But I have to be honest. As someone who years ago did a lot of long haul travel, I appreciate the simplicity of time spent closer to home. (but that's not exciting, I hear you cry.)
Your thoughts?

Colourful sky

This cold/sunny/changeable weather is producing some amazing skies. This was last night's.

When pictures are louder than words

One of my paintings ressembles the contents of my head at the moment. It's late, I'm tired but my head is still racing with "everything to do."

A green day

The local supermarket (it's a fine foods one) has got into not offering plastic bags any more.
They hide them under the counter and you have to ask for them. When I went out this morning, though, I had forgotten my "bag for life" and so had to go through the shameful process of asking for a carrier.
This has happened very recently, partly due to the media coverage of devastation caused by plastic bags in the environment. Those pictures of turtles caught up in bag handles, or Indian children in water swamped with plastics, are horrendous.
Last year, when I was on the final year of my art degree, one of the students was doing a landscape project.
She had been painting the landscape in an abstract way, but all the time she had spent outside led her to think about one thing: plastics in the landscape and the way they were destroying the environment.
She wanted to express her idea in film, but her tutors had her earmarked as a painter and she was "not allowed to."
She was asked the question: "Are you an artist or an environmental activist?"
Couldn't she be both?

Cocked up Calendar

Everything on the calendar is cocking up at the moment. We ended up booking Glastonbury on a whim, then realised it was A's camp-out weekend so she can't go.
Now the Spain holiday clashes with a school exam, so I've had to see whether the school will help us out by letting L sit the exam over lunch. So that we don't miss the flight.
The problem is that flights on the Friday double from the Thursday night as it is a school holiday. S'not fair.

Just musin'

I was playing around with colour and paint today and a funny thing happened. The spoon I was mixing paint with had picked up some really interesting effects. It's like the artists' pallettes that are often more interesting than the painting itself.
The best paintings are the ones that paint themselves.

My first ever Glasto

Can't believe it. We've got tickets to Glastonbury this year, after long ago giving up the ghost due to not having a fast enough internet connection.
But with this year's registration system, it seems the tickets did not sell out straight away and that meant more folks have had a chance to apply.
No tickets left for the camper van field so that means camping. We are due a dry summer aren't we?
One thing's for sure, we'll be taking chairs. you don't get to my age without learning that sitting on the ground for three days is extremely uncomfortable.

Champagne Ma'am?

One of the long-running debates my hubby, D, and I have is about "class" and whether the class system still exists in the UK.
I think it doesn't, in that, for a long time now in post-industrial Britain, it has been possible to change the class you were born into. And, these days, if you can afford it, you can go anywhere. (I mean social events such as the races, polo, skiing etc.)
D was born in Lancashire when his Dad was just starting out in business; in the haulage trade. His dad left school at 14 and had a very poor background. He often tells of how he had no shoes, did jobs in exchange for stale cakes etc.
But he managed to climb the ladder and went on to do well. However, as far as he was concerned, he was and is, "working class."
They just like to drink champagne with fish and chips now, that's all. Tis good, though.
D thinks you cannot change the class you were born into. Me, I think anything's possible. What does everyone else think?

O to be in England now that April's here

Woke up to a light smattering of snow this morning. Rapidly melting with sunshine and blue skies.

A strange fetish

I absolutely love the smell of oil paint (which is basically linseed oil). It's so evocative and such a sensual medium.
The rituals surrounding painting are a big part of the process. Blending, thinning, mixing and applying the paint.
Whereas many women treat themselves with shoes and clothes, my own fetish is for tubes of oil paint in gorgeous colours. Strange, I know.
The thing about oil paint is it's a living medium; it shines on the surface of the canvas. Whereas, acrylics dry to a plastic finish.
I knew a textile artist who had to stop herself buying offcuts of fabric wherever she went and simply storing them.
One of my favourite stores is the hardware store, particularly if I'm trying a new product. Tomorrow I'll be trying latex paint; can't wait.

(I once knew a cleaning lady who felt she was addicted to the smell of cleaning products. Always use a ventilated space and check manufacturer's instructions.) Felt I had to put that.

Day by the sea

My son, L, had his friend W staying over and they had spent more than enough time on the laptop, XBox 360 etc. Ball-kicking was exhausted and they were bored.
Today started off perfect - brilliant sunshine and hardly a cloud in the sky.
The ideal time to head for the beach. For us, this means the Gower coastline and a 2 hour drive.
Some memories for us, too, as my hubby and I met in Swansea as students years ago. The lodgings and streets don't change, but the area is much more developed these days and the marina is very stylish. I wonder who lives in all these seafront luxury flats that keep being built?
I always feel a bit nostalgic and sad at revisiting my student town, but D says it was all so long ago he's over it now. Funny how memories come back; certain bars, friends you lost touch with years ago. Youth.
Even the prison was still the same, only the wall had been built a little higher.
Anyway, we stopped in Mumbles for a Joe's ice cream covered in nuts and chocolate, then headed for Worm's Head and a three hour walk.
Woods, sand and sea made for boy heaven and I filmed them zooming down sand-dunes and falling over.
A fish and chip tea was essential, before we finally drove the scenic route home.

Van der Graaf Generator

We headed North last night to Wolverhampton Civic Hall to watch a Seventies "prog rock" band named the Van der Graaf Generator.
I don't know much about these guys, but my hubby is pretty keen on them, as were loads of blokes in the audience. (interestingly, there weren't many women there.)
The Civic Hall is a work of art in itself, an art-deco building tinged with fading grandeur and exhibiting the signs of a glorious bygone age when the area would have been at its industrial peak.
The gig was just fantastic; three intense musicians and a spellbound audience. Beer and crisps were good, too.

The Malaguti is a cutie

The trouble with restoration projects is that, while old things can be made to appear new again, they tend to carry on working just like old things.
Take the Malaguti 50cc moped, for example. My hubby has carefully restored it so that it looks great, but attempts to make it work at the speed and efficiency of a modern machine have made, well, yet more work.
Looks great, though.

Teen shopping

My daughter, A, is going to France next week to stay with a French family. So, today we have been clothes shopping in town, in all the shops I avoided for so many years. All the High Street clothes shops with loud, blaring music. (makes me sound middle-aged, I know, but I have so many memories of "fashion disasters" of years ago that those crowded boutiques don't do much for me.
Anyway, we came away with several pairs of Dolly shoes, a jacket and some accessories and even some gifts for the family.
A jewelled compact for the mum, a Mini mug for the Dad, and a football scarf and some Uncle Joes Mint Balls for the French correspondent (he's a boy. There were no girls left) from a delightful shop called Past Times.
A capuccino for me and a hot chocolate loaded with cream and marshmallows for A, and we finally left.
But not before popping in to the book shop for Revision Guides (it's exam time soon) where I found myself drawn to a book about Dita Von Teese.
Only momentarily, though. She just looks so stylish and stunning. Oh well, back to the cooking.

How did they get here?

Our foray into Spring was short lived and it's yet another wet, freezing day albeit with a slightly lighter evening.
But the field behind my house has attracted several new residents - and I'm not sure how they got there.
Two sheep and their offspring have been sheltering in the barn and i can't see any gaps in the fencing/hedge that they could have got through.
I got as close as I dare to take a photo, I heard that sheep can be protective of their young.

And the title is..untitled

At the gallery today, I suddenly realised I hadn't titled my work. I'm not a fan of "untitled" by and large so I only had 10 seconds or so to come up with something.
The best I could do was: "Metal jug with wheat" for a still life. Then "Colours advance and recede, 1 and 2" for two abstracts.
When I got home, I had to google wheat as I was not entirely sure whether it was wheat or grasses I had painted. (I did the painting a while ago in a class.)
Oh well, wheat will have to do.

Two new paintings

I've done two small paintings for the gallery I belong to - it's their show next month and they have asked for contributions. It's always difficult; you do a painting and it seems ok, then someone else sees it and you're waiting for their reaction. If they don't say anything they don't like it.
However, when you're an artist you do your work for you and in fact it's irrelevant if anyone else likes it or not. As long as it has meaning.
So, my two little abstractions are done and off they go to the gallery tomorrow. Wish me luck.

Early evening sky

I love looking at the light changes at this time of year. The sky just seems to lift and get lighter in the early evening and the promise of Spring seems to be here at last.
"Over all the mountains sing
Winter's over, welcome Spring." (from: Mountains Melting by Don Rehling.)

Up to my eyes in suds

My washing machine has broken. On Sunday I tried to change the programme just after it started and it didn't seem to like it. A little further inspection and it seemed the catch had snappped.
Normally, the appliance repair company I use (they're a sort of, one-shop-fix-all country company) take about three days to get out to you, a further three days to order the part and then another week to come back and repair the machine.
In the end, we decided it was probably time to get a new washer as this one must be nearly 10 years old.
Having no washing machine means instant chaos at my house, as on average there are several loads a day going through. I am mindful of environmental issues, however, and I don't wash towels etc straight away.So I have found myself using the launderette in the nearest town centre, in the meantime, something I haven't done for years. It seems too personal, being there with one's smalls in such a public place.
Clearly, I have been out in the sticks a long time.

Blonde Moments

When your natural hair colour is a sort of "dishwater blonde" you can't do much else with the colour than have blonde highlights. And thank goodness colouring these days offers more choice than just the bleach or home colourings of years ago.
Of course, you get the dreaded root regrowth but at least with blended highlights it can be disguised to some extent.
So, on Thursday I had my "root regrowth" done and then D, my hairdresser, spent ten minutes or so straightening with these new salon-only straighteners. Everyone has been complementing me, raving about the style. Also, it's a change from that just-got-out-of-bed look.
The downside of being blonde (natural or otherwise) is people are always waiting for you to have those "dizzy moments." If only I didn't keep living up to it.
Take the other week when I wrote off my car by driving into water. Now, every time there's big puddles on the road everyone says: "You didn't drive through it did you?"
(Um, managed not to this time.)
The list is endless. Maybe your hair colour somehow affects the psyche and you act the role that you see. Take my friend, J, who has naturally red hair. She is often described as "fiery" but she would agree that she doesn't suffer fools gladly.
Maybe J and I should swap hair colour and see what happens.

All you need is love...and a large expense account

This is what Thursday's post should have been titled.

Home Alone (bar the animals)

Everyone's out tonight...hubby and son at the football, and daughter and pals at the theatre wearing most unsuitable clothes for this time of year. I made them put on jackets/coats much to their chagrin. Have just had a large potential painting commission so looks like that's what I'll be doing, with one eye on the tv. Can't drink cos on taxi duty too.

Famous Jensen Interceptor Owners

These include: Cher, Clark Gable, John Bonham, Frank Sinatra, Ginger Baker, Cliff Richard, Stevie Nicks, Rob Lowe...Roger Moore as James Bond.

when love breaks down

I haven't followed Macca's divorce too closely, but obviously I've seen the headlines. I hope that, in spite of everything, he and Heather see their way to being friends for their daughter's sake.
But is it that easy? Marriage can be difficult even when things are going well! My parents divorced when I was in my mid-twenties, just as my daughter was being born. It was as though my Dad was going through a classic mid-life crisis when he left Mum for another woman.
Not easy in the years that have followed, Dad won't communicate with mum any more and I only found out he had married in 2000 after the event. We all somehow rumble along and I wish it was friendlier between everyone. Maybe it's true that you only get out of relationships what you put in.

Old Cars renewed

My hubby is into restoring old cars. In fact, he'd probably agree he has OCD about it but that's for another post.
The Jensen was pretty special after some work, new engine and coat of paint. Think Starsky and Hutch.

all we want is a room somewhere

This is our sculpture studio, it's an old Nissan hut and it's going to be demolished. We have been promised a new room by the art school organisers but you know what it's like...colleges get more money for information technology and so craft-oriented things get pushed to the back of the list.
Well, let's hope we get our room. Do we get to keep the cobwebs?