train tracks heading south

Through a certain chain of circumstances today, i realised that it is 12 months since i spent at least every other weekend with my parents, stumbling through the free days, crying (silently, so not to scare the children) on the long journeys back to the place that was no longer a home.

Wherever it is that i am now, it is certainly a better place than where i was.

fill my stocking

Have you made your christmas wish list?

Mine comes down to two vitals: Cock (yes, I am particular) and some affection, in no specific order.

HNT/all & everything

dust bunnies

• is adding mace and maderia to beef in a stewpot.
• visited brother with cake for his birthday and found him fretting over estranged Secret Wife's ectopic pregnancy.
• fun with polyfilla
• is in a comfortable place somewhere between the soft chugga chugga of the expresso machine and the children's chatter.
• is picking apart a pomegranate. Surprisingly gratifying for a saturday evening.
• i don't drink soup from a cup either. It is wrong.
• tried to eat soup with a dessertspoon, but it didn't feel right.
• my divorce petition arrived yesterday. i have been circling it ever since, breathing deeply, and employing all available distractions
• has that dentist-clean feeling and wants to kiss
• Buffeted, but not in the 'feasted-upon' sense of the word. More bedraggled then bed-destined.
• made individual caramel custards for pudding. They have a marvelous wobble.
• was up at 4am rescuing laundry before it blew about the village. I preferred yesterday's weather.
• cherry brandy chocolate barrels: the discreet way to imbibe during a duty lunch.
• is playing hokey at the butcher's
• is accidently eating jalfrezi and chips. Tomorrow is another day.
• Mondays make me dizzy.
• has such filthy, dirty plans for tonight. Come here, little marshmallow.

not enough hours in the day

I bounced out of gym today, long-legged in jeans and my favourite fluffy fleece. He is standing at his office door, waiting, as he usually does on Mondays. We exchange kisses on both cheeks, as usual.

Then he says my name, takes the lapels of my jacket, pulls me close. For a moment i think he might put his hands on my waist.

"How much are they paying you?" he asks.

"You can't afford me" i reply.

let live

I am a glutton for chocolate, and colour. Rocky road made with pink marshmallows, red glace cherries, dates and raisins and dark, dark chocolate, with a layer of white chocolate as icing. It is as if i am eating a slab of the densest fruit cake.

I took the children swimming this afternoon, filling my never-quite-unpacked Every Occasion bag with towels and little trunks. Wet and cold, an hour later, i am digging through the contents for the ever present shampoo. Except all i can find is a pretty glass dildo in a silk bag, a curled-up and contented gigi and a large bottle of lube. Again.

HNT/open wide