Hot hot hot Caribbean

Well lots has happened.  I hotelled for a few days then moved into my house.  I had such a lovely time before Mr Smith and the boys arrived and an even better one when they got here.  I painted lots and last night had my show.  I got wrecked.  I now have a stinky hangover.  We sold a few paintings but I wish I had sold a few more.  Greedy me.

Going

Well, you will be pleased to learn that I did go.  Not a whole week's worth but I do feel lighter.  I have also learnt a new word "scatology".  It means having a fascination with your poo.  Yep that's me    - worse that than old bat Gillian Mckeith.  I don't weigh it but I am a bit keen on the Bristol stool chart.  Scatologist - sounds like an interesting collector of rare books or something ... How wrong one can be.  I suppose a rose by any other name would smell as sweet and all that.  I have read that laxatives are very bad because your bowel and colon get a bit lazy if they depend on them to do the work.  And as for straining - just heard from a lady who had a brain haemorage from overdoing it.  Blimey.  Let nature takes its course - drink lots of water and take some exercise.  Right ... I will do that then.

I am in a bait with my agent who hasn't bothered to pay me.  She owes me lots of money.  I am excessively cheesed off.  I was so upset when I didn't get paid in November but still not ....that is really annoying!  Oh well, that means more for me this time.

I really despair of Agent Annie.  She has done so many things wrong.  I wish she would pay a bit more attention.  I am quite cross with her today.  I suppose having a new baby, a whacking great hole in your leg that won't heal and being stuck in darkest Northumberland whilst everyone else pisses off to the Caribbean might make you a bit distracted.  I won't over egg the irritation.  I will get paid ... Just not immediately.

And now I have to paint a bit more of my big Bath House painting then roll it up and pop it into my golfbag.  So organised.  No room for pants or shoes.  Oh dear.

No joy

Agent Annie is not coming to Nevis for my show.  She is not well enough. Oh no.  Oh well, I will just have to do it without her.  I will go and see Gillian the owner of the venue and sort it out with her.  I want to cry but I suppose I can do this on my own.  I just don't want to.

I had the most lovely lunch with Jo and Sophie from WLR.  We went to the Savoy.  It was divine.  We ate lots and laughed ourselves silly.  What a lovely day out.

Mr Smith spent the morning having needles jabbed into his eyes.  I drove him to the hospital which made me late.  He couldn't have been that bad as he did the shopping.  He bought donuts - lovely fresh sugary gooey donuts.  And chocolate biscuits.  I had to sample them.  Just the thing.

It is now six days since I did a poo.  You can now add a donut and 4 chocolate biscuits on top of a hearty lunch to the enormous pile.  I have now added Dulcoese to the mountain.  I am now going to look up fecolith on line.  This is when your poo impacts to make a stone.  Never a dull moment in my life.

Pack horse

F is for flag.  Frangipani required specialist knowledge.  My kissing people were far too creepy so I did little figures - much better.  Anyway, the Caribbean Alphabet is finished as is the portrait of Sister though it needs a lovely background.  I will do it there.  I do not feel inspired by hailstones whilst wrapped in Granny's mink in my shed.

All the paintings are packed.  They fit perfectly into one suitcase.  The rest will go in a golf bag.  So organised.  No clothes of course. I am going to get Mr Smith to bring my party dress, everything else is already there.  Genius.

Day out tomorrow though Mr Smith is trying to scupper it by making me take him to the hospital for an eye appointment.  I don't see why he can't take the bus.  I will just have to take him ridiculously early..... Again.

Doolally Day

My caribbean alphabet is all done but for a lizard.

I had a dreadful Alczeimers day yesterday.  I forgot to send my brother a birthday card.  I set off for Kingston but took the wrong bus to Putney.  I couldn't get any stencils for the letters on my alphabet but the girl in the shop told me they have them in Kingston.  I took the train to Kingston but got on the wrong one and ended up in Richmond.  I got the stencils, forgot to go for the eyebrow shaping I booked, bought a night dress I didn't really need and forgot to look in the shop I meant to go to.  I ate a sandwich forgetting I was on a no bread diet and when I got home found I had locked myself out.  It was a tiresome day.

I hope today fares better.

My weight is creeping up.  Time for physical jerks and less maltesers.

My man and me

Mr Smith is home.  We agreed that making me come out to the airport at midnight is mean and exhausting.  He can take a taxi next time.  Actually he could take a train then a bus.  Oh well, I went and I am now exhausted. I hate driving at night.   Hate driving his great big car.  I don't think middle of the night airport runs are quite my thing.  But I am happy to have him home.  It somehow makes everything much easier.  I know I will end up booking all the hotels for Canada but he will look over my shoulder which will somehow make it all much easier.

Mothers Day.  The Apprentice gave me a DVD of Argo.  Oh goody. Somehow Ben will never gets this quite right.  He gave me a doctored birthday card saying To a Diamond Geezer.  He also bought me a huge bag of maltesers - but I am not eating chocolate as I have an addiction.  He chucked in another packet of pop up pencils.  As he had given me two packs for my birthday I can only think he got a 3 for 2 deal and this is the third!  He also got an icecream scoop then discovered we already had two in the drawer.  Oh well, that actually could be useful as it is the right size for smaller scoops.  We love him and he did try even if he is a Wally.  My best boy.  He returned to Portsmouth on Sunday afternoon to go back on his film set after a proper Sunday lunch.  I had to pay to make him go away.  Well, he never has any money.  Nor will I at this rate.

I am hoping to finish my Caribbean alphabet today. 

So far done: Aeroplane, Banana, Church, Donkey, Egret, Frangipani, Goat, Hibiscus, Island, Kite, Orange, Queue, Rastafarian, Shell, Washing, Kiss, Yacht, Zizz.

To be done: Jellyfish, Lizard, Monkey, Night, Pelican, Turtle, Umbrella, Volcano.

It's fun being me.

Frills and spills

Meeting my sister in law was great.  We went to an exhibition at the British Library, paid absolutely no attention whatsoever to the Indian pictures but chatted furiously.  Her daughter is getting married this year so it is all dresses and frills.  My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding pails into insignificance in comparison.  Such fun.  We ended up having a cream tea at the Regency Hotel St Pancras.  It is so lovely.  Tea was very good value and was very generous with two delicious scones - I ate both mine but CG took one of hers home.

My mother in law is not well and is like Eeyore in his gloomy patch.  Canadian Georgie suggested taking her shopping for a wedding outfit but she was all Why, Nobody will be looking at me. Sometimes she can overdo the martyred act.

I got so fed up with being bombarded by bad advice on constipation from the megalomaniac on line who set herself up as a diet guru that I told her in the end that she should be careful in dishing out untested rubbish that could be quite dangerous.  Home enemas - for goodness sake.  I was also getting complaints from other people about her hideous bossiness.  Anyway, she has closed up shop - oooooh touchy!  I was so careful in what I said but obviously touched a nerve.  She suddenly resigned.  But to be honest the diet is not healthy.  Losing 10 pounds in 5 days is all very well but the after effects are gruesome.  I have been so ridiculously bunged up and all this red meat and butter are not healthy at all.  I would never advocate anyone to follow this diet plan for longer than a couple of weeks.   Too much artery clogging fat.  I will watch my carb intake from now on but I am not going down that ridiculous meat meat meat route again - even if I do have to cram myself into a tiny dress in a couple of weeks.

Mr Smith is back today.  I have to collect him at midnight from Gatwick.  I might go there a bit earlier and hang around the airport otherwise I won't stay awake.  Maybe an afternoon nap will take place today.

No shoes for the wicked

I am meeting my sister in law, Canadian Georgie, today.  She is so like Marg Simpson it's uncanny - orange hair rather than blue.  Homer is not with her this trip; he has stayed in Toronto eating donuts and drinking beer.

The market research was very odd because we were made to remove our shoes but the floors weren't even carpeted.  It was a great group.  Almost everyone was telling dreadful lies about idiotic ski holidays they hadn't been on.  Fun.

Agent Annie has designed a lovely flier to promote my show.  It is SO good.  I realise this show is going to be quite a do.  I am so excited.  Also Annie and Richie are the Posh and Becks of the island and them bringing their little princess home will be a huge deal.  I reckon the whole island will be there to greet Baby Charlotte when we arrive.

Both my boys are home for Mother's Day which is lovely.  I am rather keen on Mother's Day although the boys have started to say it's rubbish.  No it is not.  It is the one day of the year when you treasure your Mum and all the things she does for you.  OK the wicked witch of the west isn't worth even a phone call.  I gave up trying years ago.  She didn't want to know.  I am a lovely mother, cosy and kind and I love my boys even if they do drive me demented.  I hope I feel the same after ten days on holiday with them!

No zizz for the wicked

How come the one afternoon I think I will have a little afternoon nap they decide to do major hedge trimming next door right outside my bedroom window.  Grrrr.  Now the estate agents have rung and woken me up.  I will get up, ponce about with my hair and trog round the supermarket, then go to market research.  I am holding forth on ski holidays with no shoes on.  I had a message saying the owner of the house we are going to likes us to remove our shoes.  Foot fetishist?

I got up super early this morning, painted loadsa pics and felt jolly good.  Then I was jolly tired.  I love an afternoon nap because I tend to have lovely dreams - nicer than night time ones.

I am having such trouble with constipation these days.  I am quite jealous of the Queen having gastroenteritis.  I am getting fatter and fatter and have taken the entire contents of the medicine chest short of plasters - all to no avail.  This is very annoying as I was doing so well on my diet.  I am now heavier than I was last week.  I have taken Movicol, senakot max strength, flax seeds, psyllium husks and lots and lots of water and I am still bunged up.

Paintings are coming along nicely and I have managed to get myself another day as mother in law has sciatica and can't get round the art gallery.  No Manet which is a bit of a blow but no poor Mrs Smith Mother of Mr Smith with backache is quite a relief.  Rest up.  I will paint.

Wasting precious time

There seem to be a million things standing between me and a paintbrush.  I am not thrilled to be given the task of sorting out Worthing electricity. Bloody nightmare.  Whilst I was dealing with agents and damned Scottish electric I thought I would go the whole hog and just work through all my telephone tasks.  I said yes to market research on ski holidays on Wednesday evening, I booked the dog into kennels, I sorted out my Avios points which means free flights next trip.  I then copied the passports, did the bins, painted a church, got the oven cleaned by mad Bulgarians and walked the dog. I was going to work but ended up with double Corrie, a spot of University Challenge, Embarrassing bodies from behind the sofa and Buzzcocks before bed.  Why doesn't Mr Smith answer my emails.  Lazy sod.  It looks like his email has been hijacked but he could text me.

And now boys and girls I will gently peel off my onesie, hop into my bath and loll for a bit before painting my day.  Oh it's Botox this arbo. No more lines on my bonce.  I wasn't going to have it done but then my party sounds such a big deal I think I had better look my best.  After all I am dropping weight pretty brilliantly so may as well do the whole thing.  Hair is booked just before I go.  I am really excited though it looks like all of five pictures unless I stop staring into space.

Home and Away

Mr Smith came back from Kent with the most beautiful dress for me in my right size.  It is bright and flowery and just the ticket for my show.  I will look just like one of my paintings.  It fits perfectly.  He also bought me a gorgeous cardigan that is so me.  I look thin in it.

We went to Worthing to look at the student hovel we own there now that it's empty.  It wasn't too bad.  We got a builder round to look at it all and we found asbestos on the back roof.  Groan.  That is going to be horribly expensive to replace.

We went out to lunch at a nice Italian place that was rather chilly. We then ate an enormous dinner later - vast pieces of beef.  I am eating far too much these days but not rubbish - good wholesome food.  I need to take some good wholesome exercise.

I took Mr Smith to the airport from whence he flyeth to Turkey to play golf.  FOR A WEEK. My goodness just think how much painting I can get done.  I feel I wasted yesterday as I sat in all afternoon doing nothing much.

The oven cleaners never turned up.  They may come today.  If not they are dead.  I so hate unreliable people.  They waste my time.

MandiitheKiwi came round and played.  She made me a flyer for my show and posted it on Facebook.  I have had heaps of replies, all super positive.  What I hate about Facebook is it is so damned repetitive and hideously complicated.

Cat's away

Mr Smith has gone to Kent to play golf and buy me a dress.  I am so excited by the dress.  Oh I so hope I can cram myself into it.  Sometimes I really like Mr Smith especially when he isn't here.

Today I have to blitz the kitchen, get rid of this nasty headache and paint lots of little people and a house.