Just finished mowing the grass - I know! It's only ten to twelve! The ladyfriend has gone through the house with a vacuum cleaner in one hand and a duster in the other, we are unstoppable and have managed to lick the whole house in one morning. I got carried away with the grass cutting and have even shaved my legs - it's so addictive!

The rest of the weekend is ours. Tonight we are off to Mr C & Mr D's to rendezvous with a medieval swordsmith and tomorrow we are hitting the road to the coast.

One downside to today is the schools have broken up so there will be no let up of screaming from next door and burglaries will be on the increase.

I know yesterday I was yarping on about how people involved in scandal become celebrities but I must eat my words as I desire that the family of Toby Studabaker are signed up immediately. Just look at them Both Leo and Sherry are made for stardom.

I pray to the god of daytime tv that some quick thinking producer snaps them up before you can say 'Shania Twain'. I can't wait to see the Hello photoshoot after they are saturated in lolly and fall into the hands of Bobby Trendy Wonderful. We need more white trash now the Beckhams are heading off to the Med.

Tonight I can be found with the mother in law in Ikea chomping on meatballs.

Morality: This morning the ladyfriend and I were discussing the subject of morality and society - this prompted by the imminent return of Angus Deayton to British Television. We were both in agreement that scandal aint what it used to be. Why, only a few years ago it was 'off wiv her head' for Carol Vorderman after she was seen advertising detergent. Her BBC contract was torn up and it was bye bye for the mathematical genius, not so for Angus. Atleast the powder Carol was pushing was clean!

We were also pondering on scandals in history that, were they to happen today, would they have the same outcome. Take the Profumo affair. As a result of a couple of call girls and a russian spy the government toppled and a man committed suicide. If it happened today Stephen Ward would probably have his own show on Channel 5 and Christine and Mandy Rice-Davies (surely a name for showbiz) would be atop of the hit parade (think the cheeky girls).

No, it's all quite wrong. Anyhow, thank god the sun has taken his hat off for the day, my word, it's been like a turkish bath at work - there aren't any fat men with moustaches wacking me with a towel but you get me drift.

Please feel free to use my exciting new message board, isn't it fabulous? You don't need to register and you can say whatever you like. Have a play with it, I can always delete the mucky stuff.......if I want to.

A lady (from Warrington - though living locally) in a flowery blouse (smart but casual) came round last night to do my Will. She was very good and it was very easy. It's brilliant how so much can be done in the home nowadays. It's certainly moved on from mops and brush salesmen at your door. An absolute boon for the agorophobic. You can live quite happily without ever having to leave your bed.........although I personally would not like to entertain an insurance salesman in my bed jacket.
I went for a basic will, nothing fancy, no complicated clauses - not yet anyway. I am now able to update and change things when and where I like which will keep the ladyfriend on her toes.
It was very interesting as when the will lady (who is incidentally rushed off her feet at the moment, she's had a rush on - it's her prices I told her, that and her flexibility) opened up her black (good colour under the circumstances) presentation folder, I noticed some photocopies of newspaper reports on Jill Dando. These were obviously in her folder to shock and convince me to buy her product, but I wonder which one? What horror stories did Jill Dando's bereaved relatives face? I would have thought Jill would have left her affairs in order, she always looked the type. One should not judge a book by it's cover I suppose, nor for that matter a television presenter.

Had a fab time at the coast this weekend, we bought a bed from Steve the camp bed seller. Self assembly. Mr Clive and Mr Drew came down and did numerous DIY jobs which have made our flat much better and inaccesible to undesirables. Had my first dip in the sea atlast. I have gone deaf in the left ear, I am expecting a winkle to pop out onto my desk this week after it has consumed half of my brain.
Met the neighbours atlast. Have you seen Rosemary's baby?

Had a dream last night that I was parading around in a wedding dress. Quite disturbing but I looked lovely. It's thursday again which means one thing - Eastbourne! Tra la la! Kitchen is being delivered tomorrow, how exciting, will the delivery man speak? Will he be a chirpy card after a cup of tea or will he be a grunter without a personality?
One thing's for sure it will be nice to have the front door open for a little while. Kitchen smells do tend to settle in the communal areas at our flat, the other residents tend to favour traditional english fare and the faint aroma of cabbage tends to pervade. The ladyfriend and I intend to place a discreet plug in somewhere.
Mr Clive and Mr Drew are arriving on Friday, our first house guests, we shall have them hard at it before they take their coats off. (kitchen unit assembly)

Girlfriend in a coma I know, I know it's serious.
What a hot day. I know it's going to be a struggle. I am sure I shall feel like one of those victorian ladies who are journeying to the centre of the earth with a mad scientist. By the end of the day my hair will be dishevelled, my white starched shirt frayed at the edges and I'll have a smudge of mud on my chops. Got time for an adventure? I am sure today like every other day I will encounter perculiar monsters .

Heard one of my favourite sounds this morning - a man hammering - it floated into my open window as I took a deep breath and zipped up my trousers. There is nothing I like more than the sound of toil on a sunny morning. It makes me feel like I live in a medieval village and someone is mending their thatch.

Hope this weather holds for the weekend, I intend to take the boat trip round to Beachy head.

To Mr Clive and Mr Drew's last night. Made quite a merry time of it. We drank and ate a hearty meal of meat and salad. I ate rather a lot but strangely now feel rather famished. My slice of toast this morning does not have seemed to have touched the sides. I am thinking this is because last nights tea was one of those Marmalade Aitkins meals where the abscence of carbohydrates has caused this vacuum. I have had to shove a banana down till the sandwhich lady turns up.

I am a little concerned as I have not seen the pheasant for a while, one of our neighbours is one of those yuppie types and I reckon he's hanging in his pantry (the pheasant) Oh how he must have suffered. Still nature is a cruel thing. We have attracted Doves to the garden now which is excellent, we have a huge sparrow family, two fat wood pigeons and a blackbird but what I really want to see is a couple of tits on the lawn of a morning, then I'll be happy.

Take two red peppers, a handful of parsley, two cloves of garlic, salt and black pepper add a splash of olive oil. Put the lot in a bender, pulse it up till it's coarsley chopped. Smear it on top of four chicken breasts. Put them in the oven for 30 minutes and well, a taste sensation is all I can say.

Wedding was fantastic at the weekend, had a wonderful time. I had to steady the ladyfriend in church. Her knees buckled when she saw her niece bounding up the aisle into matrimony, she can be very emotional at times and yet at others as hard as nails (I have the scars to prove it)

We stayed in the hotel where the reception was which made things far easier, what a ritzy gaff, I made sure I pocketed the toiletries when we left, you have to don't you? I have always admired the world in minature and the temptation of little bottles of shampoo become too much sometimes.

Click for Pictures

Yesterday the ladyfriend and I went to a marvellous wedding. Angela and Peter finally tied the knot! If you would like to see photographs of this event please Click here
Had an absolutely lovely time. I am off now to roast a couple of chicken breasts, I'll tell more tomorrow.

Today is the day for Angela's wedding and the ladyfriend and I are off to Thatcham (very flat place, no hills) to chuck conffetti. I quite like weddings and this one will be good as the ladyfriend and I have a full day pass - not just turning up in smart cardigans for the evening do. This means we can consume booze and food steadily throughout the whole day. Infact, by luck or design I am not sure, the sleeves on my outfit are ideal for hiding pork pies and slim glasses of champagne up them! We are going to have a fabulous time. I hope that there is a strange distant uncle who drinks a lot and dances to The Beach Boys, there always is one.

I'm all fingers and thumbs today, sank a bottle of wine with the Ladyfriend last night - that old chestnut - so we are both feeling a little bit riffy this morning. Whilst putting off getting out of bed this morning I was flicking through an old copy of Red magazine ( a Christmas edition with that screeching banshee Davina Mccall on the cover ) I was getting wafts of old perfume sachets and stubbled on an article about stress. It said you should have a bath with essential oils, candles and chill out music when you feel stressed out - oh please, does anyone actually ever have time for that? The thought of bathing with Moby and a pack of household candles fills me with terror. Too many accidents are caused in the domestic bathroom these days and I blame magazines like Red for perpetuating them. Best thing to do when you want to relax is slip a couple of nembutal and drive out to Aylesbury.

I hate to say it but I really must confess, I am starting to pine for Autumn. I was putting a picture of Jamie Oliver on the website at work and he was dressed in a big chunky roll neck and his face was pale and I thought "oh". Then I looked outside at the sunshine and thought "enough no more, tis not so sweet now as it was before."
I will admit there are a few things I want to do before the summer ends, I long to pluck tomatoes from the vine, buy a rubber blow up boat and sit and listen to a brass band. Apart from that I am ready for extra layers, a windsheeter, perhaps a hat for the evening and leaves! The smell of decay! The whiff of a sunday afternoon bonfire!

I was thinking on the way to work this morning how the position the country is in now , another country occupied so many hours ago. As the world spins and we all get our go in daylight and moonlight so must we therefore share different postitions. It's kind of like when you step on an aeroplane and sit still in the seat yet travel vast distances yet move physically not a jot. So each day we have quite a time of it and we don't realise. I wonder, wouldn't it be nice if people could suspend nice treats for us, some food or other objects related to their culture so that we could have them when we wake up. I am sure some offshoot of the space programme could produce this technology, indeed I suspect it already exists.

Had a bit of a huge weekend. Went down to Eastbourne on Thursday night with LBC making the M25 anti-clockwise a little more pleasant. Spent our first night in the flat on blow up camp beds which were more than adequate for our needs. Went the next day to town and sat outside Isobel's cafe which I think is the 'in' place to be. We sat there with a bacon sandwhich and watched the zimmer frames go by.

In the afternoon we took ourselves off to MFI and bought a kitchen! Tres bien. It is quite an amazing thing to watch the CAD design and produce your kitchen, amazing.. However, when the quote was too high and we asked to lose the "thrills" the nice salesman stopped buttering us up. Instead, when he saw we were bargain basement, the gloss dropped and his sales patter was more low fat margarine.

Saturday I spent most of the day erecting gazebos for my stepdad's mother's 90th birthday. The party was yesterday and was an enormous success, most of the ladies were dressed in Berkertex and the garden a sea of grey hair but we had a marvellous time.

We're off down to Eastbourne tonight, we haven't been there since the 17th June, what will our new neighbours think of us? Our mail must be stacking up in the communal stair well. They probably think we are a flighty pair, that or we are dead. I hope we don't get there and the door is off it's hinges.

We are going to MFI tomorrow as they have a half price sale on, I am clapping my hands with joy, a spanking new kitchen for Lola! It's all quite too much for a girl to take. My God I've grown up.

I am a little concerned, one of my beautiful boys from Malaga has his birthday tomorrow and our package has not yet arrived for him. I hope it gets there by the skin of its teeth because he 'turns' when he thinks folk have forgotten him. Their photographs of the ladyfriend and I in various relaxed poses with be torn to ribbons, such will be his frenzy.

Watched that vile creature Graham Norton last night - why has nobody told that man to stop? - glad I did though because K D Lang and the legendary Tony Bennett were on. How Ms Lang has bloated in the space of a few years, it must be all the tofu.

Did you know we spend more time at work than any other country? It's doing us no good. I want to be where the sun warms the sky, when it's time for siesta you can watch them go by. It's not like the continent when they have days off at a drop of a sombrero. All this hard work counts for nothing, we are the toilet of europe with a rail service worse than India, where is the logic? Perhaps it is the fault of a protestant religion. Perhaps we should revert to catholisicm, all those saints = lots of day's of. Still it could get a bit sticky for my 'side of the church', mind you all that free wine and wafers would make up for the homophobia.

On a more serious note get behind The Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams who knows, perhaps I won't always be the bridesmaid afterall!

Aah, I have just been harrassed by a young welsh woman working for British Gas, talk about breaking a girl in gently, it's only 9.05am and I have been steered into a direct debit I may live to regret.

The ladyfriend and I have an intelligent pheasant that comes to our garden. We have called him Piggy because of the huge amount of bird seed he consumes. It's really queer though because at the weekends he turns up from about 12pm onwards yet in the week he crashes into the garden about 7.30am. How does he know our movements? Do you think we are sitting on a gold mine and - with the appropriate training - we might enter him into a contest and scoop top prize?

Coming to work this morning I spotted three pensioners laden with shopping, why don't they space things out a little? They've got all day to do their shopping and nothing else to do but tend their bloody Dahlias. Perhaps it is the Wimbledon effect and they want to get all their 'jobs' done before Virginia Wade fills their horse brass filled sitting rooms.

My eyes don't feel puffy today, I was beginning to wonder if it was an adverse reaction to my impulse buy of odourless garlic tablets - good for the heart and circulation you know. I feel as right as rain now. A bit clammy, but I think that's something to do with the atmosphere at work.

I made a lovely potato salad last night, unfortunately I only had reduced calorie mayonaisse but it was made into a taste sensation with the addition of a healthy tablespoon of creme fraiche - there's a tip for you.

I am rather happy as I have changed my hours at work so that I don't have to start at 8am on a Wednesday. I have moved it to 9 instead, far more civilized. I have been doing the same ungodly hours for the last 5 years and it's telling on the complexion. I once had the skin of a princess, I now look not disimiliar to a cowboys arse.

My eyes feel bulbous today, I fear I may have developed hayfever, I suspect at this stage in my life it is down to GM crops. Last night I went to my first ever hen night, I had a lovely time but am slightly dissapointed as there were no chickens or eggs to be seen so I am left slightly perplexed and confused at this odd pre-marital tradition.

Yesterday the ladyfriend and I had a wonderful surprise whilst out shopping for a new sofa. We met Peter, a friend we both used to work with. We took tea with him at his house. It was wonderful to see him. He is a highly skilled dancer who has been in several productions (Evita no less) our own little Nureyev. I love serendipity, perhaps under Peter's tuition, I might master the rhumba.

I have banned all fun until the ladyfriend is better, as a consequence we have not gone to Eastbourne this weekend and are taking things one day at a time. I fed her steak and chips last night and all ready the colour has started to return to her cheeks.

I watched the sun rise this morning (what with it being Summer solstice and all) I bathed my face in the morning dew - supposed to do wonders for your complexion - my photographs of the splendid astronomical event can be seen if you click here

It's weird but at 4am my hair looks alright but at 9am it looks like Napoleon, what on earth happens in those five hours of sleep that turns me into a moose?

I am grieving today for my mini. She is gone from me. I had a bit of "moment" last night and was quite, quite upset. I don't know if it was to make me better but the ladyfriend said I could buy a new kitchen for the flat in Eastbourne before we did anything else..........I think I will take full advantage of her offer and milk my sadness. I am sure I will feel a lot better chop chopping on lovely worktops!

Caught a whole episode of Big Brother for the first time this year and I am aghast and a little moved to wonder what George Orwell would make of this cattle market of wannabies. I wonder - if he were alive today - would he have ever got out his trusty Remington if he knew what his dystopian novel was going to influence.
"If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face--for ever." Imagine reality tv forever. That fills me with more horror than an intrusively bureaucratized state. Bring back the potter's wheel.

I was up at the crack of dawn yesterday. At 6 am my heart was racing and I took myself off to feed the birds whilst I tried to get a grip on the situation. It was like a hundred job interviews and a hundred Christmas day's at the same time!
We got the call from Michele with one L at 10:56 telling us the flat was ours. We were off down to Eastbourne with a fridge rattling in the back and a wealth of expectations.
Waltzed into Andrews the estate agent to pick up the keys (really, they are awful) and climbed the communal stairs of flat ownership. Tried to get in the wrong flat at first (I was excited.)
The ladyfriend and I sat elated on the living room carpet which was full of dents where furniture once stood. The place needs a good lick of paint and the kitchen needs ripping out but it's fab, fantastic and it's ours.

Well, I am a flurry of emotions. In 24 hours the ladyfriend and I will have the flat in Eastbourne, I have just learnt that an Antipodean pixie will buy Blanche my beautiful mini and last night I saw the wonderful Eddie Reader sing. Life can not get any better for Lola.

I am sad about Blanche but glad she is going to a careful and considerate mini lover. My Mother has given the Ladyfriend and I a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and I am sure that will cushion the blow.

I am a bit mixed up and lost for words today, I feel like a kiddy giddy with excitement on Christmas Eve. I shall write more in my journal on Wednesday.

I am not adjusting well to being a Ford Fiesta driver. I seem to be completely invisible to other road users. People seem to walk all over me. It was my right away last night (it was even sign posted so) and a stream of twat yuppies coming out of the new health club trampled all over me. I had to pap my horn and all kinds. Infact, it was a bit of a close shave as one of the drivers was a black girl and it was just my luck she drove past as I was mouthing "anker". Now I look like some kind of racist.

My long time companion, the ladyfriend, is having a time of it. The fever has gripped her and tormenting nightmares have set upon her. Last night I heard a disturbance downstairs fallowed by a cough. "It's just the ladyfriend" I thought, probably getting herself some light refreshment. This morning I found out she had fallen down the stairs!

I hope she is right as rain for Sunday as we have tickets to see Eddi Reader the greatest singer left on earth now Frank Sinatra has passed over. I am very excited. She's the best.

My mini has now passed its MOT and is taxed up the eyeballs and ready to roll off the forecourt. I am rather sad as we've been through a lot together. She symbolizes freedom for me, she gave me back confidence, she got me from A to B and now she has to go. I'm not losing a car , I'm gaining a sofa. If anyone is interested in a beautiful car for £800 ono email: lola@lifeforlola.co.uk

I've been driving the ladyfriend's fiesta - who is incidentally off work with a filthy cold - it's incredibly difficult to adjust to. It feels like driving an articulated lorry after the mini. Just when I think I have got the hang of it and I am motoring along I look down and I'm only going at 20mph. I need re-educating in the ways of the gear stick.

Today I am dressed for the holiday camp as I hear it's going to be 72 degrees, I work in greenhouse like conditions so you have to double that and add some. It's not going to do my pores any good and that's the truth.

Football tonight, that should be painful.

I saw on the news this morning that the Princess Royal is off down to Eastbourne today, my she has good taste. I hope the press packs do not trample on the carpet gardens. I was also watching in quiet bemusement at the amount of people who enter number 10 downing street before 8am. There I was with my wholemeal toast listening to some ropey old bird talking about the Euro when countless people knocked on the black door. In and out like a vet's right arm they were.

I also looked in horror at that midget viking woman who does the travel news on the "news in your area section". She is always dressed a little too casual for my taste and her expression is one of someone who has just been shot out of a cannon.

Late entry today, I have been busy writing frightening verse to a bucktooth girl in Luxemburg. Who else watched it last night? Bloated and camp but still wonderful, there's no chance of Morrissey turning up on "I'm a celebrity revive my career".
Had a diverting weekend. Friday I was tight on Harvey Wallbangers - badly influenced by a woman called Dawn who could show Richard Burton a thing or two. Saturday I broke down in a garden centre and yesterday we went to Brighton for a tip toe round the shops.
Errr, got my call up papers for the old scrape - has it really been three years? Must ring and sort that one out.
Met Michele with one L today. Gave her vast sums of money, she is a very nice woman, very posh and high flying. It must be an internal struggle for women like her, half of her yearning to sit at home with a knitting pattern from People's Friend and the other half wanting to mix it with the big boys. Oh well, she's done us proud and I will recommend her to all and sundry.

I've been rushed off my little trotters this morning. Rushing from pillar to post with the wind firmly battering my sails. Hirdy Girdy indeed. Downed a
bottle of wine and a punnet of Houmous last night. How did that happen? I was duped by the ladyfriend. We were chatting away in the kitchen and I saw her with the bottle opener but didn't compute. Before I knew it I heard "Thwook" and the cork was out and a glass was in my hand. It all happened so quickly there was nothing I could do. It was a bit like those accidents when children get run over chasing a ball. Terrible.
I have decided I have a fight on my hands if I wish to retain my girlish figure. The ladyfriend is definitely a feeder.

Driving to work this morning I suddlenly realised that I can't remember the last time I knew what record was number one. The hit parade is a complete unknown to me. Is this because I am advancing in years? Is it a good thing? My exposure to popular music these days comes through advertisements and the occasional few bars I snatch when entering boutiques in the misguided attempt to look smart but casual.

Couldn't sleep a wink last night, I don't know if it was all the excitement of the imminent move or a particularly engaging episode of "Cutting it" but I was burning like a lady in Salem till the wee small hours. I had to get up and play Fifa 98 football on the computer.
I am obviously now, very, very tired and it's a miracle I made it to work in one piece. I had to concentrate extremely hard at the wheel. It didn't help listening to the soporific overtones of the Cocteau Twins. I did notice a quirk in my driving which I don't know if anyone else shares. I have this habit of when the road user in front of me slows down and turns off I have to have a look where they are going. I was coming along a normally uneventful stretch of road when I had to stop whilst a Nissan Micra turned right into a badly paved driveway which I had never noticed. I gave the place a good old gawp before proceeding. PourQuoi? Why indeed.

The most fantastic news! Michele with one L has just phoned me and told me we've exchanged! our date for completion is 17th June. Eastbourne here we come!

Sat in the garden this morning and listened to the blackbirds, wrens, sparrows, wood pigeons on the wing and the ford fiestas and mondeos on the M40. It was a joy to behold as my mouth assimulated a bolus of toast.
I am a little disturbed by the Ladyfriend and her capacity to drink. We had a chikky tikky masala last night - which is not on for a school night in the first place. Wine accompanied the blow out, lager was sliding down the ladyfriend's neck faster than a bobsleigh and after watching the Darling Buds of May the ladyfriend suggested opening a bottle of red! I put a stop to it then and there. Trouble with the ladyfriend is she never knows when to put the plug in.
The Barefoot doctor would be spinning in his patchouli oil if he could see us last night. I must go and rub my kidneys for relief.

Today has been one of those odd days. Phone call from Michele with one L - our solicitor - giving us the amazing news that we might be moving in two weeks (If all goes well and the devil doesn't have his way) Fantastic, atlast at 32 I shall have a little piece of England which I can call home. So there I am on a high, get to work and find my photoshop has gone tits up because, whilst I have been away, the goblins have attacked my machine. I face a barrage of shite from all over the place about this, that and the other, but to be honest I just don't care. Pride in my work I have none, interest in my work zilch. To be honest it's all a bit too "local" at the local newspaper. I see Eastbourne as a light at the end of an extremely long tunnel which has been dragging on for two years. "Stay away from the light Carol Anne".......no chance, I'll be working on the seafront faster than you can say "Cod and chips twice".

Oooh, aint it 'ot? My lallies are on full view to the public atlast. Well, I have had a loverly time of it. I've been to Brighton - fabulous, been to see the Matrix......hmmm, been up to Camden - fun, if not a lil riffy, bought some tomato plants - saucy and been camping in the New Forest. I have as they say been around. Yesterday the Ladyfriend and I were paddling in the solent and have red patches to show for it. We did use protection but I forgot my feet and they don't arf smart.
The rollercoaster doesn't end there! Oh no, today we are off to Uxbridge, tonight I am going to whip up something Thai, tomorrow we are going to picnic in eastbourne and sunday we are off to see a swordsmith who needs a website. If my life was anymore jampacked I would look like the Robinson's gollywog. I am off now to apply some factor 15.

I am like a freshly poured glass of pomagne this morning, bubbly, cheeky and full of expectation as this is my last day at work. In just under nine hours I will let slip the chains of my toil and enter the warm glow of my holiday! I think waiting to be on holiday is far greater than actually being on holiday..........actually scrap that thought.
I hope this weather picks up. So much rain. I feel quite unsettled by it. I would rather not go camping in drizzle. I intended to paint beautiful sunsets and vistas, I won't be able to master watercolours in a downpour. My landscapes will come out like something an abused child might produce for a psychiatrist. My school of art leans towards the Bobby Sands and I can do with all the help I can get. I think I stand a better chance with charcoals.

I drove to work this morning in a bit of a haze and can't remember any 'mirror, signal, maneuvers'. I did look out for the invisible motorcyclist like I always do since that dreadful advertisement but I never saw him. No, I think the mini and I both know it's over. Gone is the fun, the passion, the happiness. We are both going through the motions. It's a desperate situation - one I have been through before - and I know it can't last like this for much longer. When she passes her MOT she'll be on the market, out of my life, only this time I come out of it with some lolly.

Hope this weather situation picks up a bit, chances of going camping next week are getting dimmer and dimmer. I like life under canvas and the ladyfriend and I are all ready and raring to go. It's going to take a huge leap in temperatures to convince us to sleep outside, we are game old girls but we aint Edmund Hilary.

Whilst bathing in soapy suds this morning I heard the next door neighbour singing her little heart out to Ronan Keating rollercoaster song. Now, normally of a morning she effs and blinds at her little kids to get ready for school but today the universal appeal of Ronan Keating stopped her from traumatising her kiddies for one morning. Do you know she was rather good. She is only a slight woman, infact, I shouldn't say it, but she reminds me of Sarah Payne's crusading mother. The same sparrow like features, lank hair and earthy qualities.
I wonder if in her day - before the kiddies - she was a professional singer working the club circuit with dreams like you and I of stardom and a rambling house in the Cotswolds. Now she is a little bird caged with demanding children and a short temper, oh fate is cruel. Perhaps one day she will take to the stage again and pursue her obvious talent, I do hope so, for the kiddies sake if anyones.

Like the whiff of an autumn afternoon the ladyfriend and I have caught the smell of completion coming closer. Phoned the solicitor this morning and she reckons it will be in the next five days. It is indeed good news. Old Michele with only one L is the best solicitor in the world. She's as bright as a shiny new penny and may god bless her because she's saved the ladyfriend and I a bob or two and that's the truth. Aaah Eastbourne, that gem on the English coastline is getting ever closer. The ladyfriend and I are on tenterhooks.

I bought the new Eddi Reader album at the weekend. I made sure I bought it in a local shop for local people. I do not like to use chain stores as they are the devil's very own outlet store. I hate them and their buy three cds for £20 racks. The aisles of DVDs and over pricing. Give money to your local community is what I say, not Mr Branston Pickle.

One more week of work and then the ladyfriend and I are en vacances!

The ladyfriend and I went to see a talkie last night. It was Actors starring Michael caine. There were not many of us in the cinema, infact I don't think we numbered more than twenty which was incredible for 'Hettie Night' (for those unsure this is either Friday or Saturday night when most establishments with entertainment value are taken over by Heterosexuals with their loud, garish and unsophisticated ways). I don't know if it was the dissapointing cup final result that kept people away or the threat of a dirty bomb but I was glad to have a clear view of the screen. A huge man sat next to me who gurgled everytime an attractive lady appeared. I should imagine it must have been quite annoying for his wife/girlfriend who he was sitting with to hear his vocal leering. Horrid man.
The ladyfriend and I have set sail on the high seas of fat loss. The door to the cellar has been plastered over. I am not allowed to cook tempting treats. We took half an hour to choose two sandwhiches is Tesco yesterday. It's a minefield for the obese that place.

Have you heard a cuckoo yet? Me neither. I read this morning (rather late for work by the way-but hey) in my country living magazine about light pollution and the disastrous effects on wildlife. It was quite illuminating. Do you know it's very difficult to find darkness in the UK these days? There is nothing as wonderful to me than a blanket of stars and it does worry me that future generations will just about be able to make out the moon because of city sprawl. So I say to you 'put that light out' don't add to toads being squashed and blackbirds up all hours. Become a careful consumer and buy low wattage bulbs. Pull your curtains, write to your MP, keep your polluting ways to yourselves and buy a telescope.

Had to cover my delicates last night, there was a warning of ground frost and if correct, my sweetpeas would have bought it. I used the Daily Mail to shield them from Mother Nature's wrath. It is probably the only good that vile paper has done for a very long time.

Came to work this morning and was put in a dreadful position. Someone who is not normally prone to a lot of makeup is suddenly covered in the stuff, head to toe in slap. A little too much glamour for the workplace. Is she off out dancing in her lunchbreak? What do you do? I always feel very uneasy in these situations. It's like when someone sports a completely different hairstyle and life is supposed to 'carry on'. Do you mention it? Or do you ignore it? I intend to stay out of her way for the rest of the day. My time at work is bad enough to have to put up with more upset.

Had a phone call from a woman last night called Ruth. I don't know anyone called Ruth.

My life seems to be like the inbox of my hotmail account overflowing with people hassling me about one thing and another. Someone trying to sell me smut, another a mortgage and someone else who can offer me a vast improvement in my sex life, all this and save me hundreds of pounds! I don't know, one day at a time sweet Jesus.

This morning I breakfasted in the garden and watched the sparrows dive bombing for bread on the lawn. It was very calming and I am sure the very best thing for a soul. I could hear the country coming to life as I trained my sweetpeas up their poles and thought how wonderful it is to be in England in summertime.

I am reaching the end of a rather demanding week. I have just today to get through and it'll be time to put my pens and pencils away until Monday when it will all start again. I have of late but wherefore I know not lost all my mirth and I blame this place [work] and I intend to hire deckchairs in Eastbourne or black up and do a 'turn' at the end of the pier. Talking of blacking up, what is this Trafalgar square nonsense? Click here if you don't know I think Mandella is a fabulous chap and all that but really, Trafalgar square? No, no, no, there is only room for one Nelson there! If we start putting up statues of johnny foreigners who have done great things with their lives it would end up looking like a chess board not a monument to a great British victory against the bloody French Click here for more I'm sure the statue would look marvellous in say, a shopping Mall which there are plenty. I think far better would be a statue of Ellen Mcarthur would be more apt. With her naval connections she would look splendid on a plinth beneath Nelson. I am sure, being dimunitive in stature she would not cost a lot to produce.

Awoke this morning alarmed and in a state of flux as my left arm was slumped over my chest limp and lifeless! Quelle horror! I had to resusitate my limb spit spot. It gave me a sharp awakening into the sad world of the paraplegic. Tried to return to my slumber as it was only 5am but the sound of the dawn chorus was so great I had to get up and join Breakfast tv.

Had a stroke of luck yesterday afternoon thanks to Maureen. Her horse Cressex Katie came in first at the 3:10 at Bath. I've scooped £21! I am torn between a bottle of Veuve Clicquot or a cycle rack for the car..............very sad to say the bike rack is winning in the practicality stakes.

Feel like Hattie Jaques this morning. Had a bit of a feeding frenzy this weekend and feel I have consumed enough to sustain three body builders attempting to win Mr Universe. I shall eat grass and distilled water for the rest of the week.
Bit of a tv clash tonight, there's the football on ITV and the new series of Cutting it on BBC1...it's going to be a tough one to call at chez Lola tonight.
Saw a Plymouth Brethren coming out of a petrol station this morning, I wonder if their heads ever itch from their scarf wearing. It must be a lovely release when it comes off in the bath......or does it?

Gone tits up again, I am having trouble with the Netscape, heap of junk spoiling my pretty ideas.

Hooooraaay, now we are cooking with gas! Life for Lola up 'n' running!

It's all gone a bit tits up here at Life for Lola, my new design works fine and dandy in internet explorer but goes quite quite odd in Netscape, so I have put this default thing up for now.
It's May 1st today so don't forget to dance round you pole. This weekend looks like an absolute washout. The weather in England is so predictable when it comes to bank holidays. I shall be standing with my nose pressed up against a steamy wet window this weekend I know it with the grass growing higher and my walking boots dejected in a dark cupboard.

I'm pissing about with life for lola again. I just can't leave it alone. Things look rather untidy at the moment but it's getting there but I have no time to play now as I am off the Mr C and Mr D for tea.

I have come to the conclusion that toffs ruin things they create. For instance, I would like to get up really, really early tomorrow morning, drive to Oxford and gather at the foot of Magdalen Tower at dawn and listen to the college choir sing in May Day. Only I know that I would not be able to hear the perfect tone and pitch of the singers because of the drunken middle class revellry.
The ladyfriend agrees and states that the Henley Regatta would be wonderful if it were not for the Hooray Henries. What is it about these pompous old gits that turn good old English traditions into disrepair? Ok, were it not for them they probably would not exist, but I think it's very much like a child who wont let someone else play with their toys. If they can't have it themselves they ruin it for everybody.
Thank god they weren't involved with the summer solstice - can you imagine how it would have panned out? I shudder to think.

Bit impetuous last night, after work at 8pm I made the Ladyfriend come with me to a huge bluebell wood. I am determined to win the Countryfile photography competition this year and with the correct lighting I thought I'd have it in the bag with the bluebells. Unfortunately in the time it took us to get there it had turned very murky so it's back to the drawing board.
Fantastic sight though, it's more than a carpet of bluebells, it's a huge expanse. The scent was incredible, a pheasant was walking through, geese were barking in the distance it was a magic moment.
The ladyfriend jumped out of her skin when we heard a gunshot "Bloodbath in bluebell wood" ran the headline but we were quite safe beneath the canopy of trees. I shall show you my bucolic snaps later this week.

Had a rather swelegant weekend. The Ladyfriend and I went to Berkhamstead on Friday, actually got a bit pissed off in the Oxfam there. I was trying to buy a Swallows and Amazons book and the two daft well meaning Guardian readers (I could just tell) shop assistants were the pits. They served two other people before me and I spiralled into an irate frenzy. There was nowhere I could go as a consumer as they were voluntary. Is there an official body for complaints for these people? I don't think so.
Saturday we went on a nine mile walk, it was brilliant but we got lost again. Yesterday I bought a compass.
Yesterday I also bought a bargain tomato box for two quid off a market stall. I reckon there were about a hundred tomatoes. I have already made a vat of pasta sauce, oven roasted twenty in garlic and given half away to my mother and I've still got a huge bowl full in the cupboard. I shall be sick of the apples of love by the end of the week.

The Ladyfriend and I are at quite a loose end. You see, with Eastbourne, family commitments and the odd thing here and there life has been all a bit hurly burly lately, but now things have gone a bit flat. This weekend we are free and easy and can do as we damn well pleasy, only we can't remember what we used to do. The weather outlook is bleak so it looks like that lawn won't get a trim on saturday, walking in a wet wood doesn't appeal. I know one thing, the devil makes work for idle hands to do. I hope I don't blow too much cash at the shopping mall. I know.........perhaps a drive out to Wales.

May I extend my warmest St George's salutations to you all! My, my it is indeed the best day to be English......unless you are George Galloway, all suntanned and mustachioed! Dearie me, traitor, turncoat! He'll get his come uppence and end up second hand car dealing you mark my words. And another thing, this "Who want's to be a millionnaire" scam, am I alone in seeing through this transparent farce? It's as plain as the nose on my face that the whole thing is a set up from start to finish. Firstly the programme lost thousands of viewers so it had to think of a scam to regenerate interest. It "lets" that major fellow through the first round, no doubt by furnishing him with the correct answer or jamming the other's buttons. Then it let's him win the million, starts this "cheat" court case and now plans to make a feature film of the whole thing. Who benefits? The programme gets more viewers, the major et al scoop a wacking cheque from the movie - and no doubt lilke the Hamiltons will be omnipresent for the next five years - Chris Tarrant get's more bloody exposure and everyone is happy. The Major won't spill the beans because he's a toff (good choice not using someone from the lower classes) I'm not fooled........are you?

Had a marvellous weekend, got to work this morning to find we have had a win on the Lotto! We scooped £1,881 in our syndicate, it breaks down to £99 each which I am more than happy with. The ladyfriend and I intend now to splash out on a couple of inflatable camping beds and a cycle rack for the car.......ooooh we are sporty. The rest I am sure we will donate to charity - hmm.
I have just read that the Billionaire philanthropist Sir Paul Getty has died, we were tramping all over his gaff at the weekend on a 8 mile yomp. We fell on his Wormsley Estate in Ibstone by accident as we read our map completely wrong and ended up in his neck of the woods - literally - we added at least two miles onto an already arduous walk, my poor tootsies.

This is for Graham

I woke up SO tired this morning, I didn't retire too late so I can't put my finger on why. I had a small drinkie with dinner but nothing to lay me out in such a manner. It got me thinking, what if I didn't stay in bed all night? What if I am really a monster or a fiend which stalks the streets and avenues skulking in the shade for prey? What if I took out several prostitutes last night in some kind of crazed slasher frenzy? It's worth thinking about. I was dreaming of parrots when I woke up....there may be a link between birds of prey and birds of the night.

I have realised how frivolous I have become with regards to water. With the poor people around the globe without access to a fresh supply - Iraq springs to mind (if you pardon the pun) I have realised that I really don't appreciate the wealth of water at my finger tips. Yesterday, I was swigging from a plastic bottle of it like a babe on the breast, this morning I was washing the car windows which were covered in a thick film of dust. The trousers I am wearing had a squirt from the iron and the bath I had this morning full of bubbles was more than enough for two. One thing that is a sin is leaving the tap running whilst brushing my gnashers, that really is naughty.
From now on I shall treat water with more respect, I shall not waste it unduly, I will however still warm it in my mouth on occasion - I like this: take a big mouthfull of cool water, hold it in your hamster like pouches until it warms up then swallow. urrgh, it doesn't sound so nice written down.....

Where DO I start? Well, last night was quite an eyeopener. The ladyfriend and I took to the Nettlebed Folk Club last night to see Maddy Prior who was and is always a most original and exceptional performer. But my god the people! Every one of them looked as though they had come straight from filming an Open University program involving incredibly long quotations. The atmosphere in the place was intense - a thick, strong aroma of real ale and archeaology - I attribute a sore throat I feel this morning from breathing in the stench of "Folk people".
All of them looked like they had the directors cut of "The Wicker Man" in their video collection. I feared for the ladyfriend's safety when Maddy sang "John Barleycorn". Was this the key to start the ritual? I eyed the fire exits and discovered to my horror that the ladyfriend and I were trapped amongst the folkies.

My site Life for Lola is yet again going under the knife, I've tried Botox but it just aint right. So, if you bump into missing links and crap things like that then take a chill pill. The fat lady is a long way off singing, infact, she still hasn't turned up for rehearsals.

Had a delightful weekend in the country staying with the Browns. Drank I am afraid rather too much. The good lord will shake his head in dissapointment at my lack of control. We went on a nice walk Click here for pictures which was rather bracing. It was nice to smell fresh air and see nature at her most beautiful.
Tonight the ladyfriend and I are off to a "folk" club to see Maddy Prior. I have brought my chunky jumper and grown a beard especially for the occasion.

Apparently I am a child of the nineties





what decade does your personality live in?


quiz brought to you by lady interference, ltd

I am in a rare old mood this morning, yesterday I was an absolute mare and a nasty old bint. Today I am firing on all cylinders so to speak. I came to work in the car trying to sing Jerusalem and have discovered I know not the words to this fine, spirit lifting hymn. I will therefore go "online" and print out a full version which I will stick on the dash for another morning.

Regarding these journalists being shot at yesterday in Baghdad - again I say, what did they think would happen if they were in the middle of a war zone?
I don't think this wall to wall coverage is a very good thing, pull out all of these dare devil journalists and go back to employing a war artist instead.
That way, the only thing that would be upset if caught up in a crossfire would be an easel and a nice set of quality oil paints. I should imagine an artist would be able to "catch" the mood better anyway. I remember Nancy Kominsky wielding her pallette knife. I reckon she would make a marvellous job of capturing the Iraqui women scrambling for bottled Evian* on canvas. Click here to see Nancy

*I bet that water aint from the Perthshire hills

I have been watching Ragi Omar's hair throughout the war on Iraq. I am becoming increasingly worried about his safety. He's such a nice man and I feel like he has become one of the family. I feel as if I know him. I suppose it is a bit like those crazy people that hit soap opera stars in the street if their character does something oulandish believing them to be real.
I hope Ragi gets home safe it's a very precarious position to be in. He never seems to wear a hard hat, not like the softies on ITV, thing is in bright blue they stick out like sore thumbs on the battle field.....perhaps that's the idea.
It has been very interesting watching a war from the safety of an English armchair. It's a shame that this technology wasn't available during the battle of Agincourt.......wasn't that when we defeated the French (ooooh how apt we should discuss it here).

Today feels soft as if the whole of my life is cushioned in gentleman sized tissues. I don't know if my ears need syringing but it's all a bit quiet and slow. I've got leaseholds and freeholds coming out of my ears, estate agents - don't talk to me about estate agents. What is it that they actually do? The ladyfriend and I are thinking about pulling the plug, buying a winnebago and touring the north of scotland - it's all got that ridiculous.

Went down to the coast yesterday to kick Eastbourne Ass, we have decided to give our inept solicitor the feel of our Dr Scholls and go elsewhere. Estate Agents really are scum.
I have decided the reason I have become portly is due to the ladyfriend being a feeder. Good job I have twigged it before too much damage is done, a month off the booze and a few weeks off the pork pies will sort the wheat from the chaff. Take a look at this link Click here
Today I am treating the ladyfriend to a trip to portobello market, that will be nice.

Look! He does look like Mickey Rooney!

The ladyfriend and I are over our first hurdle, we managed to watch the England game without a drop passing our lips. My God it was hard. It was a rather thrilling match after Michael Owen came off........let's be honest here, why does this little boy play anyway? I am sure it's him and Heskey that let us down. Scrap them and while we are at it.....David Beckham - can we not have someone else take the free kicks and corners on occasion. He has become boring and predictable. I also can't quite work out this Gary Neville fixation, he seems to me like the bad penny that keeps turning up. The ladyfriend and I were most impressed by the Rooney lad. Such skill at such a young age, a little bit like the wonderful entertainer Mickey Rooney, infact they look similar. If he comes good like that Hollywood legend then England will win the cup next year.

You were unable to read my diary yesterday because the server went tits up in America.........another blue on blue? I see we are up and running nicely now. Came to work this morning with the Cocteau Twins playing, I was trying to sing along and it was most difficult as they sing in a strange tongue and the words are completely inaudible. Good knows what the oncoming traffic thought of my contorted mouth.
Football tonight, the Ladyfriend and I are up for dissapointment, England are so painful to watch. I don't know why we put ourselves through it. Our particular hate figure on the field is that Heskey chap. We are tired of the long ball, why can't we play like the lovely Italians? I'm just a week and feeble woman and have no place to comment on football, I shall get a rebuke from my brother again. He has already torn me off a strip about my facist views, he's right, this place is turning into conservativecentraloffice.com

Had a letter this morning congratulating me on winning a prize holiday, I entered the competition in the Polish Dancing magazine where I had to come up with - in less than 25 words I must add - why Polish Dancing is the best way to lose weight and make friends. Well, I won! I have landed myself a two week holiday at a top Polish Dancing school in Warsaw...for two.

I have had a marvellous weekend, fabulous weather. Trouble is, I got so smashed on champagne on Saturday night that it's driven me to give up the booze. I have decided that for the next three weeks (lent) not one libation shall pass my lips. It's going to be difficult as,regular readers of my diary will know, lady lager plays a large part of my life. I'm not giving it up for good, no, no, just getting a handle on my clear dependency.
The ladyfriend and I bought two marvellous sleeping bags for our summer camping trips, they are heavily upholstered, I can't wait for summer and the camping fun that it brings, the birdsong, the spit of the sausages on the bar-b-q, the scent of toothpaste in the communal shower blocks! Can't wait.

Just woken in Mr Clive and Mr Drew's house, had a lovely evening which included wine and food and splendid conversation. On waking this morning I heard the birds singing and as I did not recognise their song it made me realise how different birds have different tunes.
Where the ladyfriend and I live the birds are quite chilled out and lazy, here at the centre of town the birds sound like eminem. I am quite worried that the proliferation of rap music in society is effecting British bird song.

What a beautiful March this is turning out to be, splendid. I pass trees on the way to work that are so heavy with blossom it's a wonder they can stand up. Looking very much forward to this weekend it is going to be an absolute joy. The ladyfriend and I are at leisure, we don't have to go to Eastbourne to look for flats, we don't have to tear about anywhere.
Fabulous. We could pop up to Camden - in the words of Laurence Olivier "Is it safe?" - The football is on, that should prove a thrilling diversion. I do have to pop out and get a 'lil' something for a most wonderful lady in my life, my dear mother. What do you get a lady who has everything? Perhaps I should buy her a trolley dash around Collumbia Road Flower Market, trouble is, because of the crowds there she wouldn't get past the delphiniums.

God bless her one and all

I've just realised I have got to work and do not know this morning's news. I don't know how Basra is or if Baghdad has fallen. I have a knowledge void which I need to fill. It does seem that life is full of 'events' lately. Last year there was the Queen mother snuffing it, the golden jubilee and then the world cup. It seems to be a most eventful time to live in.
Talking of golden ages, unfortunately, due to the extended news coverage, not a lot has been said about the fabulous Elizabeth I whose 400th anniversary of her death passed by uneventfully on Monday. Shame on us all.
I think, therefore, I must ask you all to raise a glass to her as soon as possible, we all have a lot to be thankfull to her for........especially Glenda Jackson.

Had a pectin problem this morning, I brought back some oranges from Malaga and made marmalade with them on Sunday. I had some on me toast this morning which tasted ten out of ten but the consistency was ver ver runny. I will make my next batch with this in mind.
I was reading a copy of the daily mirror this morning, I am disgusted at their stance on this war. I think after this week I shall stop reading it altogether but Miriam's Casebook is rather intriguing. What is his secret? I suspect homosexuality and it's only day two.

I forgot to mention, on the way home on our flight was the ugly boy from "Eldorado" the one with the hooky nose and wheel chair bound sister. I imagine he was in Spain for one of those reunion things soap people do for the fans. I loved "Eldorado".
Went to our financial advisor today and it looks like I am good for a few bob. All going well the ladyfriend and I will be dining on freshly caught mackrel barbecued over a makeshift stove on the beach in a couple of months.
I shall have a party - similar to the full moon party in Goa - by Eastbourne beach to celebrate.

Email from Lorraine foul mouthed Twitchen : Dear lola 
Mrs T here, having a lovely time with Tina and her family we are so pleased to here that you support our braves lads who are fighting for the peoples freedom in Iraq. Bugger the stupid winkers who are marching today they mean nothing, they should support our brave lads and lassies who are fighting for us and we wish them all the best god bless them all. I hope you had a lovely time in espania and will return to work in a better mood and sober just like me. 
~Your bosom budd Mrs T
 ps. who has had a few

Back home and I see the grass needs cutting. Had the most unusual flight home, a group of some twenty children were onboard who were dressed in the strangest of fashions, all remarkably well behaved but unlike real children. I think they were either christians or a theatrical group as a few of them "performed" in the baggage hall. sitting behind the ladyfriend and I were flight "experts", as the plane was coming into land they were saying things like "He's circling to do this" and "When we came back from Greece they did that", instead of sounding well travelled they came across as the halfwits they really were. Nice lady sitting on our row, for the entire flight she never said a word which is refreshing. She sat and read her OK magazine in complete silence.
I must just say a few words of encouragment for the troops, keep up the good work boys, we're behind you all the way!

Ola! The sun is out and we can bathe our english skin in the warmth atlast! I see from Sky news that the war has kicked off, I must say I do find it all terribly exciting. Obviously from arms length though, not in my back yard and all that. I hear France and Russia are creating a fuss, really, history should tell them when to keep their mouths shut. I am sure the people of Iraq will run to our troops as they free them from their bondage like the French did in the Parisian streets in 1944. How soon they forget.
Never trust the French. Good job they aren't on board, they're no good in a war and only use their artillary to blow up innocent reefs in the pacific.

Today -as the threat of war looms in the gulf the storm clouds loom on the Costa del Sol. The weather is mucky, but never mind it aint Kuwait! We are discussing lunch, perhaps a lil tapas somewhere, trouble is I do like a large portion and sometimes the spanish skimp. I am feeling a little under the weather, a lil strep throat. I am hoping it will pass.
We went shopping yesterday in a marvellous supermarket, forgot to get truffles but managed to stock up on fine olive oil and rioja.
The supermarket was a bit wiffy in parts, it's that wind blown pig that gets me every time.

The ladyfriend knows no restraint and after promising me she would not make a show of herself -AGAIN- she proceeded to humilate not only myself but the lovely boys from the costa del sol in a riffy restaurant last night.....actually it was the afternoon.
We were all in bed by nine last night after a little too much booze. Too wan to talk further.

17 March, 2003

Well girls the Ladyfriend and I have landed safely in Spain and have sunk a glass of wine already - well, the sun is over the yard arm.
My ears are crunching like a goodùn as we both suffered the bends in the plane. Absolutely shattered but intend to live the high life! Look out for photos of my escapades coming soon!

Feel a lil wan today, I don't know why, perhaps it was the excitement of it all, but I was up at 3.30am. I couldn't sleep so I went down to watch the telly. I was greeted with the sad news regarding Dame Thora - gone on the stenna stairlift to the sky Shame. Another nail in the coffin of Last of the Summer Wine, how much longer can they carry that series on?
I feel absolutely shattered now, thankfully the Ladyfriend loves to do the packing, she has a system and I really wouldn't want to come between her and a winning formula so I have let her pack the cases.
Not long now and it's bye bye Blightly and Ola Gin and Tonic. Keep 'em peeled for snapshots from the sunshine coast.

Well, the flat fairy has waved her magic wand and at last we have found our flat, offer accepted, deal done - well you know, subject to blah blah blah but we've found it! It has a lovely sitting room which is light and airy and the sunshine streams into it. Infact, it is a bit like St. Ives, I expect to walk into it and find artists sitting around in smocks. The kitchen is cute and cuddly - again lovely and light. The bedroom is smart and the bathroom is tidy (unusual avocado suite but that can come out). It's ace, Victorian and the best thing since buttered toast.
The sense of relief is incredible, no more riffy dives to view, no more spiv estate agents to talk to - except our Maxine - but it's over. I know there will be delays and all that trauma to come but the ladyfriend and I are in no hurry. La Dolce Vita atlast.

Last day at work before the Ladyfriend and I hit the Med, oooh I feel like putting on the disco music now! I've had quite enough of this work thing at the moment and I am cock-a-hoop that I can have a week of the real world for a change.
Shangrila, it's just a shame that one has to return. It's quite ironic that the safety work brings also entails a fear of living a life you would prefer.
I'm putting the pinny on tonight and cooking for Mr Drew and Mr Clive. I am doing pig pesto (my dish of choice at the moment) Unfortunately Mr Clive has a food allergy and can't take poultry - a giant of a man and a chicken can floor him.
Tomorrow it's off down to Eastbourne to take a butchers at Enys Road, please Flat Fairy sprinkle some good luck dust on this one!

Oooh I can feel that down on the Costa feeling, not long to go now and we will be landing - deep vein thrombosis permitting - on the runway of Malaga Airport. I love that airport, I love the walk from the plane to the luggage, the squeaky floor, the low ceiling and the tourism posters. It's a beautiful piece of architecture, it feels so swinging stylish. It must have taken years to build, you know what the spanish are like.
Yep, just got a few loose ends to tie up and I shall enter that euphoric holiday coming feeling at work, the cavalier attitude creeps in where you cut corners knowing full well it will be out of your hands - and blame - next week. I love the impulsive holiday splash out where you buy something in Top Shop for the 'holiday' just because you can, I love the magazine I buy at the airport which I wouldn't normally buy in the real world, I think last time it was 'Real Woman'. I especially like that "look at me I'm going somewhere foreign feeling" that I ooze at airports, Oooh and I do LOVE a take off ..........Una Paloma Blanca!

Oh the power of the provincial newspaper, this country is just about to go to war and my local newspaper has launched the "Gone to pot" campaign. An attempt to legalise cannabis? No, a quest to get the council to fill in all of the pot holes that are in the roads. Good god....I quote "ANGRY cyclists and pensioners are among scores of readers who have hit out at the state of Buckinghamshire's roads in the wake of our Gone to Pot campaign."
Scores, not thousands, not even hundreds, infact scores = 40 people.
Moving along, the ladyfriend and I are feeling a lot better about this beastly flat buying business and have an appointment to see another gaff on Friday. Maxine is meeting us at 3pm outside number 87 so it's up with the spirits and down with Mr Sad. This one has a share in the freehold which can only be a good thing.

Bit fed up today, I've had enough of property and estate agents and locations and vendors and leaseholds and freeholds and mortgage advisors.....Had a bit of a weekend, we put an offer in on a flat and we were then subjected to a woman who looked less feminine than Les Dawson trying to flog us a mortgage for half an hour after being told we already had one in place. PLEASE DO NOT GO NEAR THE HALIFAX - ineptitude runs through that organisation like a young Sebastian Coe.
....Found our dream home on Saturday decided to buy it only now we find out that the yearly maintenance fee is £800 I mean come on, that's extortion, so we have decided not to buy it.....the ladyfriend and I are severely down in the dumps at the moment and have decided to take two weeks off to recover from the vipers of the property world.
We are off to Spain next week on a visit to the beautiful boys on the costa del sol where we will mix in fine company and dine at the best of tables. I am sure that the gin alone will smoothe away the edges of the eastbourne property scene.

I've got a banging hangover from too much wine and hardcore.....I spent last evening sorting out some cd burning for my beautiful boys on the costa del sol, god knows what I have done for them as I was as tight as a drum at the time. I've got through a few blank cds left so it must have been successful.
I bought the cds at Asda last night from a gormless girl in the home entertainment section, they were playing a record which I liked and have heard on the radio, I didn't know who it was by and as the music subsided I asked "who sings this?" she replied "Daan know, great innit?" and after making my purchases - bought the Turin Brakes cd too - she wacked it back on louder and started bouncing up and down. Thank god for music.

I feel I may be having a mental breakdown. Coming to work this morning a car passed me and I am convinced that it was Jonathan Aitken - again. I do tend to see lots of famous people on a regular basis. Infact I did see the late Princess Diana in a Tesco carpark several years after her death, being "sensitive" to communications from the other side this wasn't a problem to me. Anyway, I rarely see the same person twice. Is it a glitch in the Matrix or mental disease?
The ladyfriend and I are off to Eastbourne tomorrow for a second viewing on a flat, I really like this one. I've mentally decorated it several times. Mr Clive and Mr Drew are coming with us again on Saturday so we can introduce them to Eastbourne society.
Today I am listening to my noel coward cd from my ebay debacle, it is very good and in exceptional condition.

I was talking to Susan - a colleague/co-worker, whatever - we suddenly hit on the subject of stamp collecting and memories flooded back of shoe boxes full of torn envelopes with stamps on, transparent packets of stamps from around the globe and empty pages of books with grids on. In particular we discussed those strange sticky things that you fixed the stamps on with that would spill out onto the carpet like confetti and never be the same afterwards. I remember how the pages would crinkle that did have stamps on and those pages that you knew you would never use with a country you'd never heard of, those pages would never crackle. The adverts in the back of the beano for "Bumper packets of stamps of the world"
I wasn't an avid collector at all, as a child I was just as faddy as I am now and would be passionate about something for a while like the next person. Oh but the memories that you think you've forgotten that are unleashed in an instant through a smell or a few words. Somewhere in the brain is a huge damn the size of Ikea. If those computer geeks could work out a way of transferring memories onto discs they'd sell like hotcakes. I suppose then people would constantly live in the past if they had access to it, best then, like stamp collecting, to leave it behind.

The ladyfriend and I couldn't be bothered to cook last night and, fancying steak and chips, went to the Beefeater in Beaconsfield. We were seated by the window and on the table opposite I swear was the disgraced MP - now born again christian - Jonathan Aitken. Well, I couldn't help but eavesdrop on the conversation - Steven Lawrence, firefighters and asylum seekers - not the sort or natzi chit chat I would have expected from a 'believer'.
Also, the consumption of two Irish coffees is a little hard to swallow from a reformed character. No, it is my guess that this man has leopard's spots and was in Beaconsfield purely to relaunch his career in politics! Why, just opposite the Beefeater is the Conservative office!
Just you watch, you heard it first on Lola......

I drove to work today completely invisible, other cars took advantage of me at every occasion. It was my right of way and a fleet of cars abused my position on the road. I was very cross indeed.
Had a nice day yesterday, you can see my pictures if you Click here and some more if you click here

Had a very nice day yesterday, we went to a fabulous kitchen shop in Old Amersham with Graham, Jill, Angela and Doris and in the evening I got tight on red wine. Tred to get this webcam thing to work with the boys in Spain but it doesn't seem to be going to plan.
Having a lovely lazy morning for once, but the devil makes work for idle hands to do and as a consequence the ladyfriend and I have decorated the place we want in Eastbourne already before we've even bought it, let alone made an offer.
Today we are to spend our time in the fine company of Mr Clive and Mr Drew, I think we are off to tip toe around the snowdrops with my camera, hopefully this fine weather will keep so my exposures won't appear too drab.

I've pulled something in my neck, I know exactly when it happened, it was in the Thai restaurant last night. I bent down to pick up some magazines that I had put on the floor as we were leaving and I felt a twang. As a consequence, I have woken this morning with a rather uncomfortable stiffness. I need constant manipulation.
Oh god, I have two flea bites on my arm aswell from that bloody riffy dive we went into yesterday. Unbelievable, I ought to be able to sue. I don't know what it is about my blood and fleas but they seem to be drawn to me like Liz Taylor to registry offices.