Today, I've had 3 blog comments, and this has made me happy! I'm easily pleased. I can't recall the reason for my sudden inspiration to write a blog a few months ago....but after a couple of try's, it seemed a wee bit pointless, and so I didn't make too much of an effort. But, with my 3 readers, I thought I'd introduce myself as is polite, and will also keep me occupied!
This is me and man. This is about 4 years ago, so we have a few more wrinkles now. Man has a few grey hairs, whereas I will never truly know if I do, as I keep bleaching the life out if my dark locks, and will continue to do so forever. I have gone black, red, and accidentally orange once, but my heart lies with peroxide.
We met nearly 5 years ago, when both of us were resolute in not wanting any of that couple stuff. Stubborn, independent, and maybe a bit damaged.
We actually love each other. Which, it seems, is becoming rarer and rarer between 2 people.
We have 2 simply wonderful girls. The rats. Georgia is nearly 15.....Emily Monkey Socks is 11. The girls and I were a force of just 3 for many years, and have the most incredible relationship because of that. I'm insanely proud. WE are insanely proud.
This is Georgia Porgie and her cat Marmite. Georgia hates the camera, and is not a fan of my love of the old. She says she feels like she lives in a museum/old people's home, and desperately loathes every object I bring home. She's an old soul and my right hand woman. She is so thoughtful, intelligent, but 15 and quite grumpy of late. I love her. It hurts how much I love her.
The olden days before the begging for Facebook started.
This is Monkey Socks. A carbon copy of me, and destined to be the maker if mischief. She loves the old, and has learnt to crochet with me, loves to 'take tea' with me.....in fact, she's never not hanging in my coat tails. She's spirited and driven. I love her. It hurts how much I love her.
Four years ago in a Yurt in the Lake District. This was before we lost man on the wrong side of Hard Knott Pass, I fell out with a lump of wood and got a black eye, and the police didn't know whether to call Mountain Rescue or a Women's Refuge.
We live in a three storey Victorian terrace, overlooking an old park, right in the middle of Ol' England.
During the winter, but starting in the Autumn, this is lit from morning till night. I'm drawn to fire. I want fire when it's still warm. It beats as the heart, and draws everyone in. We spend months just nodding off in its glow, and not achieving very much at all.
Last December, we spent days and days and days stripping every scrap of wood in our living room because we love to see things as they were in the beginning. I loathe sanding. With a passion. And I'll never ever ever decorate/renovate that close to Christmas again. Ever.
I'm a festival goer.
I like gardening since I hit my thirties. I'm 33. Man is 41.
I love eyeliner, but don't often bother.
Man is a drummer. And a guitarist. And he can sing and songwrite. I grew up following my Dad the lengths and breadths of the Midlands, as he too was a musician. Both Dad and man played since they were children to audiences. Once it's in your bones, it never leaves. My Dad was a rock and roll legend. He died last year at 57. I think about him all of the time.....he was my best friend.
I find grey feathers, and they find me, and I like to believe they are from him. I save them.