I can't believe I have been introduced to the joys of blogging by my 60-something year old Aunt. I intended to read hers, leave a comment, and then log out.
Instead, after browsing through lots of other blogs and becoming more and more interested in the concept, I've started off my own.
Up until today, I have limited my thoughts and ramblings to the rather huge collection of diaries that have grown in number over the years, and which at present are packed away in a very large box, kept in what I have lovingly nicknamed "The Glory Hole" aka my spare room.
I can't bare to do anything else with the room at the moment, as the previous occupants of my house decided to paint it's walls fluorescent pink..... not terribly horrific for a little girls bedroom in a modern house perhaps, but as this is a 300 year old cottage, it's just wrong on so many levels. So, the poor little room is destined, for the forseeable future, as a dumping ground for things that I can't be bothered unpacking, throwing away, or designating a proper place in my new home.
In my own defence, I have only been here for three months, and as the rest of the house needed re-painting (given the gaudy colour choices used in every room) I am sure that the little pink bedroom will survive as it is for another couple of months.
Hmmmm, so what else do I want to write down on my first morning as a blogger?
Well, I'm recovering from a broken arm at the moment (another excuse to not paint the bedroom). This was a legacy of the lovely ice and snow that we had here on the West Pennine Moors for 5 weeks. I was walking my dog on New Years Day evening, just coming out of the forest at the back of my house, and down I went. What a start to 2010. But I got a lovely ride in the ambulance, plenty of gas and air (which didn't work by the way), a 6 hour wait in A & E, and was then taken home by my lovely friend Laura (who was still suffering from the most incredible hangover after polishing off a bottle of Jagermeister the previous evening). As ill as she was, she made me cheese on toast, a cup of tea and then stayed over in case I did anything else to myself that night.
I'm lucky to have such good friends. I jokingly said to her that if it was the other way round and SHE was the one with the broken arm and I was the person with the monumental hangover, she would have been getting a taxi back from A & E, and her cat to make her the cheese on toast !!!