Day of Nothing

I had a sacred day of nothing planned for today but I should be so lucky. I have to get light bulbs, sort out new light fittings, buy work trousers for the Apprentice and look at paints and varnishes for a report I am working on .... How to paint your telephone box. This would be so much easier if I had already done one. Then I have to visit my ailing father. My mother has changed her mind about the day ... Oh well, maybe Friday will be day of rest ... Oh no, it's the dentist then.

Oh goody Sensible Alison has just phoned to invite me to the cinema to see The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. How nice. We have started going to the earlier perfs at 6pm as we are less tired then. OP times!

London calling

You know how once in a while you have a lovely day and it isn't even your birthday? Well, yesterday I had one of those days. I was just settling down to a bit of sensible breakfast with a view to some sensible painting when the phone rang and I was invited to a meeting at lunchtime about an exhibition of arty telephone boxes taking place on the streets of London throughout the summer. I quickly dashed off a couple of designs and set off. Oh how nice they were. We talked red telephone boxes and blue telephone boxes and stripey and swirly and zigzaggy all over telephone boxes. I offered my services as their troubleshooter for this forthcoming exhib my first task being to find them a warehouse. I suddenly heard these really odd words coming out of my mouth .... "I'm sure it can't be too difficult, I'll find you somewhere." I asked my darling husband. Mr Smith was his usual enthusiastic self but thank goodness the nice chap in his office came to the aid of the party and is going to search for us. I was so pleased. So are they. www.btartbox.visitlondon.com.

I came home to find my darling Best Boy had walked the dog. So happy.

I even managed to stick to the diet. So thin and happy.

Pointedly dieting

I carefully mapped out a painting and it looked pretty much what I wanted. I then painted the background over all the lines so now I am mystified. Why do I always do that? I must draw it out on a separate bit of paper then copy it onto the canvas. This would make life just so much easier. Honestly, I don't half make things difficult for myself.

Goodbye little paintings; have a safe journey to the Channel Islands then Nevis. God speed. How I hope you arrive safe and sound. You were a lot of work.

I am doing hopelessly on Weightwatchers as firstly I don't fully understand it and secondly I haven't lost any weight. This is probably because a) I have only been on it for one day and b) I have eaten my entire week's points on the first day. Oh well, Monday counts as a new week. I will do better from now on.

The Big 17

It is beautifully light in the mornings now that Spring has suddenly sprung. The awful darkness of December and January is long gone so I bounce out of bed in the streaming sunlight all rearing to go these days. I want to go swimming today. I have a choice to brave it with the superkeeny early morning brigade headed by Judith Big Bra or I can go later and battle my way through child soup. I think I'd better cram the folds into the Lycra and embrace the dawn.

In a mad moment of benevolence I offered my services to M-C who is moving her studio out of her house and into a proper place of work. Of course she doesn't need me as she has booked removals people but she thought I could help her pack it all up. I must be mad! Anyway it's not til the end of March. In the meantime we planned to go to a show together and swore each other to secrecy so the other members of her class don't come too. I like being teacher's pet. I'd better do my sewing homework.

I am in a good mood today though Mr Smith is at home all day so it will probably wear off soon.
I have to finish off my last two little paintings and pack up all 12 to send to Jersey on the first leg of their journey to the Caribbean. This is quite exciting and means I can now embark on the seventeen big paintings needed for next year's exhibition. My new job. I need to churn out two month, which is actually a lot as each painting takes me about three weeks. By farming them in rotation and Mr Smith whipping me I should manage to speed up a bit. Oh goodness, what have I taken on?

Predictability

Still technically challenged, this time by Weightwatchers whose site I am having battles with. It's quite good actually as I have been so busy trying to get logged on and finding out how to get the point values of food there hasn't been enough time to cram in so much as a chocolate biscuit.

The next bad buy off the Internet has arrived. I am now not only the proud owner of an incompatible printer with extra cartridges along with wrong cartridges for our proper printer but I now have a £60 cardboard cover for my iPad which I thought was going to be leather. My bate has not quelled.

Blissful afternoon; they all went to watch Rugby at Twickenham. I suppose we'll have to hear all about it throughout the evening. The dog and I watched an episode of Batman. I could in turn tell them how I was very concerned when Batman and Robin were suspended by the Riddler over an enormous vat of boiling wax. Have you seen that one? Do Batman and Robin manage to escape or is it the end of the dynamic duo forever? Part of me is going "Oooooh please turn Batman and Robin into candles, go on, particularly Robin." However, the inevitability of them escaping and the stranger being the ghost on ScoobyDoo and me having to sit through an evening of Rugby commentary is probably what makes our lives cosy.

Technical fault

Mr Smith is having a day off. Not a day off me sadly. I retreated to the shed and sent him to the supermarket with a list. He left the list at home. However, he did amazingly well considering his listlessness. We now have a fridge groaning with lovely food which is a bit of a bummer for a fatso like me trying to being less of a fatso. Oh no, he bought jam doughnuts that are screaming Eat Me in a demanding manner.

Last week I bought a new printer to use with my iPad. It doesn't work. I am now in a bate and will stay crotchety for quite some time I fear. I might just set up the new printer and use it for occasional bits of nonchalant printing of pictures from my camera and copies which I could do perfectly well on our existing printer. Grrrrr. I really hate technology when I can't make it work.

I am rather tired now from all that printer malarcky and I'd like a nice afternoon nap. Oh no Mr Smith is daleking around the place. I had better look busy if I don't want to be exterminated ... Again.

Getting better

My father is recovering from his heart operation so, after a good swim, I went to see him. He looked like a man trying to pretend life was groovy whilst drawing his last breath. I think he needs to take things very slowly. As for my mother taking on the role of Florence Nightingale, she seems to think telling him to pull himself together is gentle nursing. I am going to see him again next week and see if he's any better. What's wrong with staying in bed if you're ill? I often stay in bed when I'm not a bit ill - just a bit lazy.

Hey Fatty Boom Boom

Ooooooh goody gumdrops the Lovely Claudia is coming today. The dog looks excited, he adores Lovely Claudia. So do I as she always brings a present. I do like presents. I have taken the liberty of ordering myself a few on line. I always forget what I've sent off for so it's always a lovely surprise opening the packages when they arrive

I am throwing in the towel. Despite concerted dieting efforts I am just as fat as ever and bursting out of all my clothes so I have to find professional help. Having vowed I would never again dabble into the occult of the dieting industry I am going to drag my big fat arse to Weightwatchers and pay to eat less. Well, needs must. You heard it here first.

My teeth hurt less today but still hurt. I will bite the dentist next time I go.


LATER. Weightwatchers was closed so I came home and ate a hearty breakfast.

Roots and crowns

Ow. The dentist hurt, a lot.

Dentist today

Oh I hate going to the dentist. Not only is it vile but the journey to and from the West End takes forever. The stupid assistant, and man is she thick, cancelled my appointment whilst I was away but failed to give me an alternative. I was very cross so now the man has to come in on a Monday when they don't normally work. Tough tit. I am spending enormous amounts of money with them so they'd better jump to.

Painty painty

Who's a busy little Mrs Smith! I have painted four smalls and have three larges mapped out with a medium at the half way mark. The Apprentice son kindly erected nails all over one of the shed walls so the paintings are displayed like a gallery exhibition. Now I can just take one down and work on it then pop it back when I've had enough. More more more. I would but I have to go to the supermarket as Supermarketman has an injury. He did something to his ankle yesterday and is hobbling about using a stick for dramatic effect. Every now and again I notice the limp changes to the other foot!

I keep meeting people with pancreatitis. This is a horrible ailment that makes you feel so ill. My goddaughter, Bizzy Lizzie, has been in hospital and another friend, Ill Will, looks as though he's dying. I took Bizzy Lizzie some flowers but she wasn't home (on way back from hospital) so I left them in the bin store next to the front door. I then phoned at ten minute intervals to be sure she found them as I remembered an incident that once occurred to Mad Carina. Her husband imposed a shopping ban on her, in an attempt to curb her extravagance, which she dutifully ignored and purchased new shoes. On her return home she discovered her husband was there so she popped the shoes in the dustbin outside the door with the intention of retrieving them later. Of course she forgot and it was binmen's day the next morning. Goodbye shoes. Too sad.

Boring beans

Well, so much for selling my flat. I ended up letting a friend stay in it for free! He is a very nice friend and he would like to take his lovely girlfriend, Barbara, away for the night so their exotic destination is my flat. Not that exotic as they don't live very far away. Barbara made my sofa covers. She will feel quite at home.

I buzzed about at the seaside seeing agents and solicitors and Designer Susan who gave me the most beautiful pair of green mohair gloves she had knitted for me. They have ribbons but I need a maid to tie them for me.

Now I'm home and the bean and sausage casserole I had so lovingly prepared for Mr Smith's dinner wasn't really appreciated. Oh, I see why. It's all beans no action, rather hard beans and not enough sausage. Oh well, it's always good to try something new and they did.

Art project calling

Last night I went to see the Artist. I thought it was quite sweet but it didn't blow me away ... except the dog who was so brilliant. I am now expecting great things of our dog.

Today I am off to the seaside with a view to selling my flat to the highest bidder or anyone who'll look at it. I am also going to hairdressers, the pub quiz and the solicitors. Oh what a busy little bee I am.

I have been invited to put in a design for a jazzy snazzy telephone box to be part of an exhibition of phone boxes. Actually it sounds a bit daft to me but public art opportunities are not to be scoffed at. I am thinking up my design and sticking, more or less, with my original idea. I now have another one. I quite like the idea of the phone box painted to look as though it has goldfish swimming about in it. How about Superman getting changed in it?

Meanwhile small canvases are here and I must paint small houses without further ado.

Dream dream dream

Yesterday I had a print made of my painting and wow oh wow it was so exciting. Watching it being born as it gradually appeared on the great big roller was absolutely thrilling and it only cost £20. I can't wait to produce another painting and rush off to the print shop. I shall adorn it with some number such as 1/100 and my signature.

Last night I dreamed a painting. This is such an easy way to be inspired. It was a fishy picture and it was so clear in my dream. All I have to do is paint it whilst I can still remember it. Mr Smith says I was doing swimming motions all night long and very exhausting it was for him. Oh well, one has to suffer for my art. He should be grateful it wasn't wrestling or canoeing; a bit of gentle breast stroke up and down the bed is no hardship.

Whilst I was at the print shop my canvases arrived except they didn't. A "whilst you were out" notice arrived. I have been waiting for these for weeks and am now getting desperate. I will have to wait in all day now. This is so frustrating as the fish picture and Mr P's Garden are both ready in my brain to burst forth. I will have to work from home today ... rather than so far away at the bottom of the garden. Perhaps Mr Smith could forego work today. On second thoughts maybe not.

Radio head

Mrs Smith's observation of the day: Blowing your nose on kitchen paper is very hard. We're talking Bounty here.

When I had my terrible accident and had to go to hospital (teeny little cut on my finger)the nurse told me to keep the dressing on for seven days. We are at day two and it looks so dirty and unsavoury I think I'd better invent a new one. Somehow green paint has adorned it which looks remarkably like gangrene. On a good note this injury does preserve me from such tasks as washing up, bed making and anything else I consider remotely arduous.

I so love my shed aka the artorium. With the heating on superblast and my expensive Uggs on my feet it is all cosy and a lovely room in which to paint. I have the radio on and paint away to Chris Evans and on to Popmaster with a break for lunch at Jeremy Vine's dreary phone-in. Perhaps I should listen to Radio 4 and find out what's going on in the world - well, Ambridge anyway.

The Creation

At long last it's finished and I can start a new one ... with absolutely no brickwork. 
I now have the rather scary wait having emailed it to the client.  What if they don't like it?
It's been five whole minutes since I sent it ... what's keeping them? 

Feeling squeamish?

Mrs Smith has an injury. I have a tiny cut in my finger where the magimix bit me. It bled a great deal and all the colour drained from Mr Smith's face. He looked very unwell at the sight of my blood. This morning I went to the "minor injuries" department at our local hospital and got an expert nurse to do an expert dressing. I am now seconding washing up and cooking with lethal weapons. It's quite fun bossing Mr Smith about; he's coming on nicely.

As I am working so hard on my paintings I am finding cooking all these endless meals every evening horribly hard work. So I sent Mr Smith shopping and I've cooked almost the entire Mary Berry book and some of Delia too and frozen everything. "What's for lunch?". Oh I haven't the faintest idea as everything is in the freezer.

It would have been last day of boring painting but I don't feel like painting today. I am injured. I will do it tomorrow when I'm better.

Groan groan

Gosh, I am fed up with the tedious painting I am working on. It's a bit like a rather difficult jigsaw puzzle. I can't wait to finish the damned thing and start something else.

I am also fed up with this cold weather. Snow has ceased to amuse me.

Anything else to moan about? No I think that's it for now.

What's for dinner?

So much for selling my flat. The man who was going to buy it isn't now because it's too expensive. Have you seen the view? It's not a cheap flat. It's very smart. So I have priced myself out of the market. Oh dear. Oh well, I'll put on my best selling hat and go down there next week and see how the land lies. Maybe I ought to wear a sandwich board bearing the details to the pub and through the village. Oh no, they might think it's me who is for sale!

It snowed again in the night. It's not huge snow, just enough to be inconvenient. My commute to work is luckily only 50 paces to the end of the garden. Mr Smith takes the bus all the way to the West End which is a long and tedious journey. He comes back cold and tired and usually hungry. Actually, so do I.

I'm finding cooking for four every night a mighty task. It might be time to spend a weekend stocking the freezer or getting rid of the kids. Perhaps we could eat them. It must be time for Supermarketman to go hunting again. I'll write him a list. The golf course will be closed as it's covered in snow and he wouldn't be able to see the ball. Oh good.

Brrrrrrrrr!

Gosh isn't it cold. Trying to keep warm takes so much energy but thank heavens for my delicious Uggs. At least my feet are toastie.

My current painting is far too busy. It was just fine but the client then requested extra plants so I obliged and, to be perfectly honest, it's a bit of a mess. Oh well, one tries ... and now I have to finish the wretched thing. Tomorrow will be a paintathon then I can post photos of it all round the world and then dare to contact the client. Oh scarey stuff. I'm pants at selling, I just paint the paintings. Perhaps Mr Smith might help me out. Dream on.

Projecting the future

I have a master plan which is to sell my seaside flat and buy one beside some other sea. Mr Smith plays golf in Kent so that would be the spot. Today we went to look at properties which was very interesting as well as very exhausting. We saw a huge flat which looks at the sea with Dungerness nuclear power station looming in the background. This isn't the prettiest bit of coast but it would suit us just fine. Picturesque sheep graze on the salt marshes of Romney and the local town, Rye, is so pretty. We don't really need a five bedroomed flat but it's cheaper than the two bedroomed ones we saw and I'm sure, like goldfish, we'd soon grow to fit the bowl. I could have a studio at the top, as this flat is on two levels. We could have rooms that just look decorative or remain forever full of boxes. The bottom line is half the money and twice the space of the current pad and Mr Smith would enjoy it too. He tends to put his disgruntled face on when he visits the sea. Here he would be happy. Actually, on the way back he abandoned me in Asda and I was so distressed I'm not sure if I will buy him a flat. He had to unpack all the shopping on his own as a punishment.

I am suddenly really excited. However, I have had two days of no painting which means I must work extra hard tomorrow. I need one of those wall charts that you can mark your projects' progress. I 'd spend so much time trying to figure it out I'd forget to do any work.

Happy Birthday to me

I had a birthday and a very splendid birthday it was too. My lovely Uggs arrived and they are deliciously toastie and fluffy. The day was filled with calls and messages and cards from lovely friends and family. Mr Smith ignored the event. The boys also tried to ignore it but I reminded them this may reflect on their birthdays whereupon there was much rushing to shops and signing of cards. Mr Smith suggested I might like to make a chicken pie to mark the event .... so we went out for a curry en famille. This was courtesy of Mrs Smith Mother of Mr Smith who I discovered had given him a cheque for just such a purpose about which he had kept remarkably quiet. We were £7 short so I'll send mother in law round to do the washing up when she's next in London.

The snow has almost disappeared except in our street where the pavement is white and slippery. I have to walk the dog down the middle of the road and we keep getting mown down by traffic.

Birthday snow

Ooooooh, it snowed. This is so exciting even if it does mean Mr Smith and I are holed up in our hovel with the heating turned up. It's his birthday and we are celebrating it by doing nothing at all. Tomorrow is my birthday and we will be celebrating it with trumpets and flags and partying all day long.

I was due to have my Big Art Restock today. I had craftily persuaded Mr Smith to drive me over to the City to make purchases of large rolls of canvas and stretchers but I fear it's too white for such activity today. We'll just have to build a snow and dogpoo man instead. I will have to finish the painting I am currently working on rather than getting side tracked by lovely new ones.

I'll make Mr Smith a birthday cake. He can blow out his candle and look miserable. He's good at that. I was going to buy him a little house or flat by the sea in Kent on Wednesday but it might be weather stop play ... again. We will go house hunting once it's thawed.

Mrs Smith's Olympic year is going rather well so far what with such a fabulous holiday in the Caribbean, a nice little cheque from Granny's settlement, a show booked for next year, commissioned paintings, commissioned cakes and a birthday in the snow. Oh and my father's new heart bit seems to be working a treat.

Biarritz or Bognor?

A cold and frosty morning doesn't really describe today in technicolor. Let my try again ... It's unbelievably cold this morning with a little glimpse of sunlight glistening on the white dusting of frost that decorates the roofs and treetops. It's so nearly snow but not quite. I was going swimming this morning but not quite. I shall snuggle back under the covers and watch Mr Smith put on his thermal tights under his golf trousers ... and snigger. Oh, my superhero.

Two days ago my father had heart surgery. Today I will call him and see how he is. Probably exhausted as my mother visits him all day every day. He is still in intensive care which sounds to me like he's in an incubator. He has a new plastic aorta and I imagine it will take a couple of weeks for his heart to get used to this idea. It all sounds amazing to me -medical magic.

Still recovering from my previous holiday, and certainly avoiding all alcohol, I am now thinking about the next one. We are planning a trip to Biarritz in May with Mr Smith's family but nobody can agree on how to get there or where to stay or how much to spend. Then someone has just discovered it is a windswept coastal town on the Bay of Biscay whilst someone else doesn't like Ryanair. Good grief, let's just go and have fun. By then I should be back on the booze.

Poison poisson

Oh dear, not a very well Mrs Smith this morning. Last night I cooked fish and I was sick all night. I had to be sick very quietly as I didn't want Mr Smith to know I'd poisoned everyone including him. I felt if he didn't know he'd be fine. Gosh, I hope the boys are Ok. A good dose of salmonella all round is good for them occasionally.

If you curdle your hollandaise just drop a small ice cube into it and stir like crazy and it will go all smooth. Well mine did.

Oh zipperdidoodah, it's coven meeting today. Better than that it's birthday coven meeting which is a bit hard on the Lovely Claudia as she has to bring presents for both me and Mad Carina as it is our birthdays over the next few days. I have made a pretty pink cake with little pink cakes round the edge. The only pink candle I have is a bit second hand. Oh well, I sucked the old icing off it and rammed it onto the cake. By the time I light it nobody will notice it's been used before.

I am awaiting the arrival of my Ugg boots so I can have warm feet in my studio. I am so worried about getting paint on them I am going to tie plastic bags over the tops or cling film them.

Happy February

Happy February everyone.  Have a cupcake. I like February because it's both Mr and Mrs Smith's birthday month and Mad Carina's and Fat Sarah's and Designer Susan's and St Valentine's.

I am supposed to be starting a new painting today in the shed - my studio - but I have just discovered jam sandwich creams dipped into hot chocolate and I think this is dream food come to life.  Need more.

My father has just undergone major heart surgery.  He didn't die.  My mother calls with frequent bulletins.  She is planning a convalescent holiday for him to the Caribbean - to the same Caribbean where their daughter has just danced on tables with rastafarians in an undignified and very drunken manner ... every single night!  To where can I direct them that would be a little less traumatising?