Aaaaah! I don't think I can do this...

the main reason being I 'was' horrified at the then and now photo's.

That was until today when I heard the sad news that my cousin Diane had died.

Suddenly my self absorbed worries about my podgy bod didn't seem to be that important.

Diane was just a year younger than me.  She is the first of our generation to die.  She fell and broke her hip, a simple thing you would have thought.  Not so for Diane!

I'm wandering around in an aimless fashion,  Thursday, my 'at home' day I usually love - not so today.  Lots of work to do for my stall at our first 

kitsch and stitch fair

I just can't settle.  I think it's called displacement therapy, where even re pointing the chimney (or worse than that HOUSEWORK!) seems more appealing than settling down to my crafting.  Does anyone else suffer the same being a dodger trait?

It's Hubs birthday today so we will celebrate later with a glass or two of my favourite tipple.

I will soon let you know of my time on Masterchef. Promise.  In the meantime, feast your eyes on the photograph of Martha Spencer.  A more honest woman you couldn't wish to meet you might think?


Update...


I did at last settle and I've made the most kitsch-est of kitsch tablecloths for my stall.
It's shot net - one side blood red and the other blue.  I've cut out very naff seaside scenes and appliqued them on to the fabric.  Why Oh WHY?  was I at the back of the queue when good taste was dolled out to the great and good?
If you could get a Ph.D in naffness I would be off the brilliance scale.  Sad innit?


Up-update...


Have never a fear, cos what I'm going to tell you about Martha isn't defamatory - It's the BLOOMING TRUTH!


Up-Up update...


Trouble is, she only really, rears her head in the final and afterwards....