We Made It Through ...

He's home, we're in and once again, life has many lessons to teach me.

Last year, I embarked on a year of "not buying anything". Thank heavens for that. Little did I know at that time what was around the corner for us in terms of serious, debilitating illness and major downsizing.

Our little bungalow is "bijou" to say the least. The biggest bedroom we donated to the teenager of the house due to her spending a lot of time in it, leaving us in the smaller room where we don't actually have any room for a wardrobe. I have employed crafty storage ideas utilizing boxes, under bed storage, shelving and I have turned (am in the process of turning) the airing cupboard (known to us as "the chokie") into a multi-rail wardrobe facility. If I thought I've had to be ruthless before now with giving things away, I had NO idea. I've had to get rid of things that I really do like and use, perhaps not all the time or as much as other things, but things I'd have preferred not to have given away. And my goodness, how liberating it is.

Of course the downside to the non-buying year was, as I have talked about before, the "useful" things that I collected - a huge amount of them. I simply can't do that here. Where I used to make huge vats of tomato sauces and things, I have to employ a much more "as required" attitude, maybe three or four at a time, and I have to use everything as there's just no room for accumulation. Perhaps this is the real incarnation of what I wanted to achieve last year.

As usual, I continue to learn, adapt and overcome, here's to the status quo!

I May Be Some Time

As regular readers will no doubt know, my gorgeous hubby has been in hospital for 7 out of the last 10 weeks.

Everyone says to you "make sure you look after yourself" and you say "I will" and, to tell the truth, you think you are. The reality of it is that at the same time we received the all hallowed news we've been waiting for, I come down with stomach flu.

Toilet dwelling, agonising cramps, loss of balance, energy, raging fever and muscle and joint pain are the main delightful symptoms. Of course not only does this mean that I can't work, but I also can't visit Steve in hospital. Probably where I picked it up from.

I've been in bed 12 hours, slept about five. That's the rotten thing about this thing is I feel so ill and tired but I can't sleep.

So within about a week, we'll be in the bungalow. Despite mymassive purge a few weeks ag0 I still need to get rid of an awful lot of stuff and be very clever with storage, furniture arrangements as it's not very big. Once I get it how I want it it'll be life changing for us, Steve especially and we very much look forward to getting on with our lives together, all 3 of us.

See you on the other side!

Anger Management

So, yesterday, I got to spend a couple of rare and relatively undisturbed hours with Lady Jess of Evanshire, and she gave me the good talking to that I'd been trying to give myself. She succeeded where I failed miserably.

No change there then.

And she looked like a hot 1980's teenage boy's "damp night time hallucinations". You could go off some people.

So she pointed out that I have once again failed to be looking after my well-being in a holistic sense, and accidentally neglected my creative side, resulting in my being a bit grumpy and cross.

So I made two dresses. And I love them both.

I'll love them a lot more when I've lost the 1/2 stone I've put back on so they're not screaming at the seams.

Coming soon .... my coffee table adventures. Ooo - er, sounds rude - I'm disappointed to report that it is not possible to be less rude.

And cake.

Moving and Shaking

Been out for my walk, between showers, and totally undid all my work with chocolate biscuits.

And I've done a bit more packing, two more boxes of china and kitchen stuff. But I have today received some signs. I was watching a bit of telly while I was wrapping and packing and I was watching one of the tattoo programmes, LA Ink, I think and a lovely lady had come in to get a nice tatt - one I'd considered actually, a pocket watch withe a 13 o'clock on the face.

She was talking, as they do about the significance, of this tattoo and she was saying about how she had spent her life waiting for things to happen in order for her to be happy. She was waiting to loose weight to be pretty and wear lingerie, she was waiting to meet the man of her dreams so that she could be happy etc. She was waiting for 13 o'clock. Which doesn't exist. Only now exists.

How very appropriate, especially given that the whole family are waiting and needing to move. Okay, we have some pretty extreme circumstances fueling this, but it all boils down to the same thing. SO instead of staying in and packing boxes I'm going to the cinema with Meg. After my nap.

And THEN, DMax (the channel I was watching) was trailing a programme starting soon about people with an obsession with hoarding. An excessive obsession with it.

I think I could be one of those people. Okay, you can walk through my house and sit on my sofa with relative ease, but despite my massive throwing out binge, I still find myself packing up things that I think to myself "why have I even got this?!" It's like I feel a responsibility to the tings around me, I know I've had a conversation with my "home-girl" Jess about my inability to read magazines. The reason for this is the same. I feel an obligation to every bit of information it contains, as if if I don't keep it and file it and appreciate it, it will be lost forever.

It's kind of an obsession, to protect the past. Maybe I should become a curator in a museum or something.

So although equally valid, the two things I've had brought to my attention today are working against each other. What I do know is that I will be having another massive sort out when I do get in the new place and we will be spending more time living and less time sorting out junk possessions, holding onto things so that they don't get turned to waste.

Life's just one big juggling act, isn't it.

B x

Word Up

Husband's still in hospital. They now think it's M.S. I don't care what they call it as long as they're treating it.

He's had some I.V. steroids or "moob growers" as he likes to call them having watched too much Family Guy (so I'm told) so he's starving, voice limited and not feeling so vertiginous. Is that actually a word?! All the rest we can cope with, we just need the sickness and the vertigo gone. That's what takes away his life quality.

People keep telling me that tripping back and forth to the hospital is hard work and really tiring, and my goodness I'm knackered but I still can't see HOW it can be so exhausting. It just is, but I can't accept it. Silly really. I could literally sleep all the time.

I had a conversation with all of my closest friends last week - I just couldn't decide whether to continue working or not.

When he was in for a month back in April/May, I took about 2 1/2 weeks off , and even though I love my job, I was dreading going back. Really dreading it. I was worried that I didn't have any caring left in me. Luckily the "caring for Steve" pot is a different pot of care to the "Caring for my elderly friends" pot, so there's actually plenty of care left in me.

Having had a long conversation with those nearest and dearest, I decided that it was incredibly important for me to maintain my sense of self in all this. Steve needs me in a way I never thought another adult could need me, and of course I will always care for him in what ever way he needs, but I mustn't forsake my sense of self and self identity as it won't benefit anyone in the long run, so having "put it out there to the universe" to decide, I decided I would continue working until the universe told me to stop.

And I decided to treat myself to a new tattoo - a cameo of my beautiful daughter, just about finished it is. And the bonus is I get to spend 2 hours with lovely Liz. Doing nothing. It's so relaxing. Booking and having this done has been incredibly therapeutic - it's all just for ME. I booked it immediately after his diagnosis, it gave me something fairly immediate and positive to focus on.

It doesn't work if you don't verbally say "I am giving this over to the universe to guide me on my path" or something like it, and it helps if you have witnesses. I did. I joked with my good friends this week that the universe wanted me to be unemployed and fat, as each time I start power walking and decide not to give up work Stevie gets taken into hospital, so I'm convinced that the universe has other plans for me!

So it's thrown me a MASSIVE and brilliant curve ball (well it could be if I don't screw it up).

As most of you know, I've done some stuff for our lovely BBC Radio Wales station on multiple occasions, and my goodness do I enjoy it. I really do. Well I've been asked to do some reporting for them in the next couple of weeks. How excited am I exactly?!?

Just Five Minutes, Then I'm Going to Bed for A Very Long Time.....

I just wanted to share a couple of things I've made recently and tell you about what's going on!

Said leopard print fabric, generously donated by "Cass the Collie's Mum" made itself into three bags - I originally made one, for Meg, rather liked it, made one for me. As you can see the leopard print fabric is on the outside, the bottoms (and sides on the little square one) are made from the cut off bottoms of some of Meg's old red jeans. Denim is marvelous. I then lined them with red shiny lining to give them a gorgeous luxurious feel, a genuine vintage gold nautical button, and I've got commissions to make two more for other people. I'm feeling a zebra print one for us next. Maybe with purple.

I thought it would be rude of me to not make one for "Cass's Mum! to keep her lead in - or beer money, fags, phone, whatever she chooses to do with it ha ha ha!

When making the prom dress, I faced the old "matching bag quandary. Given the style of the dress colour etc it would have been impossible to match a bought one and I didn't want to make a pouch style bag, it needed to be a clutch. So I covered the black one you see in the pictures. I must take a better photo of it, I thought I had, but you can see Meg holding it in the picture of her with the umbrella. I was really rather pleased with that.

I made the leopard skin dress for her too long, so I shortened it, made the classic mistake of making it too short, so now I have a little work to do. I have also cut out my favorite dress pattern for my teacup print frock, which I hope to wear out on Friday.

In amongst all this, half the house is packed to move (except sewing machine - can't live without that!) Husband's back in hospital, and I'm trying even harder than usual to do things for myself and keep my independence and sense of self. I don't think I'd have such a great perspective on things without many of my friends but in this particular instance Jenny has been the most insightful, sadly able to draw on personal experience. I am even more grateful than usual for you kind and sensible words Jen.

Oh, and I went on BBC Radio Wales again this morning. What was that...? You want a link? Oh, go on then :) I must be honest I LOVED the idea of being one of the "Seven Deadly Sins"! How glamorous!

The Jamie and Louise Show

Attention! The Eagle has Landed!

The dress, it came, it saw, it wowed.

I'm so proud Ii was able to make something so sensational for the most incredible person in the world, who I also made.

I'm pretty ace at making stuff sometimes.

I've actually made a few other things of late. My mate El gave me some gorgeous leopard print fabric, from which I knocked up a little frock for the teenager, two bags one for the teenager and one for moi, which are nearly done. They were totally done until I found a lovely massive nightie in the charity shop which will soon become lining for it. And I've got a bit of fabric left.

Who do you think I should make something for with it?