Nowt queer as folk

All I seem to do these days is fight. However, one fight ballasts you up quite well to take on another. I am fighting with my horrible mother over the inherited family silver, I am fighting with managing agents about the water pouring down the walls at my seaside flat and a friend, who I thought was a really good friend, has made me apoplectic with rage. On the other hand I have lovely dear friends who have come to the aid of the party and are holding me up, dusting down my armour and sending me back out into the battlefield.

A wonderful letter arrived this morning from Mad Carina complete with Best Friend badge which I am wearing like a medal well won. She is so utterly brilliant. The Apprentice has been a saint and gives me "Well done, Mummy" comments to keep me going. Mr Smith is a brick, although he is a bit upset that I am returning the family silver that we simply cannot afford to keep; it's back to the stainless steel and grotty ep for us.

I'll probably make it up with the good friend and my nice aunt will help me out with the ridiculous bill I have received for the family silver or, alternatively, have the silver. She was so kind to me this morning. The agents are sending some builders to mend the roof. My mother will eventually calm down although she currently thinks I am the spawn of the devil ... funny that?!

Anyway, thanks all of you who put up with me and know that I value your friendship more than my Jimmy Choo shoes and I will make you all cupcakes forever.

The lure of the sea

I won the lottery! £3 on a scratch card that the Apprentice used to buy deodorant. Well, he had bought me the scratch card. Just as well it wasn't £3 million really.

I want to look brown and healthy but my tan is fast fading and I am fat. I did also have a grey streak down the middle of my head but the hairdressers dealt with that, at vast expense. I don't know why I try to be all these things I'm not. Let's face it I am fat, I am grey and I have hairy legs. As I paint my nails and think pretty thoughts all I am doing is buying into the billion pound beauty industry and it's all rubbish. I will now smear unctions various over my fat thighs and legs so I can be soft and lovely ... for Mr Smith(?) The dog would take more notice. Well, to be fair I am taking the dog with me to the seaside for a few days without Mr Smith. The Apprentice is going to France and I am dropping him off at Portsmouth then collecting him on Sunday morning so a quiet couple of days with my dog at the sea will do me good.

Having said quiet ... somehow it rarely is.

Child soup

It's half term. That swim was supposed to bring out lovely thoughts but I just wanted to blast all the other pool users out of the water. I say 'pool users' rather than swimmers as there were billions of small children shrieking and splashing their mummies who just stood in one spot. There was also a life saving lesson going on in the other lane. I hogged the one remaining lane for as long as I could and swam angrily from one end to the other until I could take no more. So contemplative and calm it was not.

I went to see my friend MC in Clapham for lunch. She had been sewing beautiful embroideries and made me feel inspired to do something rather than stare into space day after day. Perhaps I should give my attention to one of those eighty two unfinished projects I have lurking around.

I then went to see a gallery where Rachel has her seaside paintings. I don't think they're quite giving her the priority she deserves as her paintings were buried so deep in the archives they couldn't be found. I then passed a much better gallery where they had adopted the Less is Best attitude. In the window was a painting by someone I know and, as I own two pieces by her, felt rather pleased that she had made it to poll position. Of course I should do more painting, get a collection together and slog it round some galleries. Note to self: Start Monday.

Release those Dolphins

I need to take exercise and lots. Firstly, to sort out this rather flabby body that hasn't moved from the sofa since getting back from the Caribbean and secondly, to make me feel happier. Supposedly exercise releases all sorts of good feelings and I will become all smiley and nice. Good, because I am a bit of a bad tempered fairy these days with a desire to cast bad spells on people who annoy me. So I am off for a lovely long swim where I will try to think merry thoughts and not plot how to burn houses down with people in them or give them warts.

Alcohol is poison

Feeling much better today although I do have a bit of a headache. Got up and cleaned the bedroom sorting all the clothes and putting things neatly in my wardrobe. I have too many clothes which indicates it's time for a cull. I don't want to part with anything as I am between sizes, recovering from a very fat holiday. Big effort starts today. So maybe I will leave the cull until Spring is really here and the winter things can be stored elsewhere, though exactly where this elsewhere is I have no idea. Like a fat goldfish; I have outgrown my bowl.

My right temple is throbbing. I can't make it stop. Perhaps if I bandaged my head it might help. At least then everyone would know I am in pain. I can't believe a few too many glasses of champagne on Saturday could do this to me. Poor me. Stupid me. I will wear a hat to stop my brain bursting out of my head ... in bed. I will seriously moderate my alcohol intake from henceforth. I am hopeless!

Brick in the wall

Went to Salisbury for a party last night. Salisbury is very pretty ... unlike my hangover; I don't think champagne agrees with me. It might take me a few days to recover.

When I am feeling a little less delicate I will attempt to clean up this hovel. I haven't even unpacked from my holiday yet as washing and ironing all those summer clothes really isn't a priority. It just makes me feel a bit gloomy. Poor old Mrs Smith isn't feeling quite her chirpiest these days. Mr Smith is being a brick - bless him.

The house next door is on the market for an amazing amount of money. They have been carrying out emergency renovations on their newly, but very badly built, extension. The walls of Jericho were sturdier; we'll avoid trumpet playing. However, if the surveyors are useless enough, maybe we will have nicer neighbours than a mad randy Syrian builder who accuses me of racism whenever I reject his greasy advances. I do hope so. Then we will watch their house fall down.

Stupidly tired zzzzzzzzz

I so wish I didn't feel so unbelievably tired. There have been more animated zombies than me. I trudge. I yawn. I have a little nap ... in Sainsburys. However, I do have lovely dreams. But, it is time to wake up; I feel my blood has turned to cement and I must move or it will set but it's too heavy. Just a little bit more sleep, please ... no it's dog walk time.

I got my smelly little dog back from kennels yesterday - oh how I love him. I know it's stupid to lavish love on a bit of animated fluff on a string but he's a delight. I took him and the Apprentice (who seems to be doing very little apprenticing these days) out for a walk on the common where we were joined by every vicious, slavering, badly bred and badly mannered dog in SW London. Poor little fluffy (a refined cavalier king charles spaniel of excellent breeding) seemed to be wearing a "kick me hard" note. Not a nice walk! We'll try Richmond Park this afternoon in search of a better class of mutt.

Party tomorrow. A surprise party for my brother-in-law's birthday. It's in Salisbury somewhere. I can sleep on the way - whilst driving(?) Mr Smith seems back into the swing of things with no wear and tear from aeroplane travel or time difference. What shall I wear to this party? I'll be the fat one asleep at the end of the table.

Here's the finished mural - well part of it.

Back Home

Apart from ghastly jet lag and an enormous weight gain, it is great to be back after a fabulous holiday. No it isn't. It'll have to be gym and lettuce for a very long time.

Nevis is just heaven on earth. I worked hard and sold a few paintings. I was commissioned to paint a mural which I managed by starting early in the mornings before breakfast and I found I rattled it off when my concentration was at its best thereby not interrupting any party time.

My paintings make good friends and Mr Smith and I were wined and dined and thoroughly spoilt by clients past, present and hopefully future. Mr Smith was even taken to play golf at what boasts to be the world's most beautiful course. He was happy. Due to his wife's daubs his holiday was upped several notches and downed several dollars. We are often invited to see my paintings in their residences - good marks to people who don't hang them in the loo - and it's rather like seeing some of your children again. I seem to have been rather prolific over the years which makes me think one can be productive as well as drunk.

How do I stay brown? I'm lovely. Fat but lovely.

Tropical Paradise

Here I am in tropical paradise where every second is slightly more enjoyable than the one before. It is hot and dreamy and just incredibly gorgeous. Knowing everyone and everywhere on this tiny island makes it just even more fun. So many friends are here though sadly some have died however everyone left just marries each other and the island becomes ever more incestuous. Well, it's time for my first rum punch of the day - no it's not breakfast time ... yet.