A year in the life of Gabs.

It's official, it's been a whole year of this blog as of today.

I've had a look back over the first posts I wrote, and it's fascinating. My memory is notoriously rubbish, so it's actually kind of great to be able to read my own perspective on life as I know it. Because it's all about me, you see.

I've been an EA, a nanny, a PA, and now, a Craftsmistress. I've been happy, sad, furious, confused, tired... you name it, I've felt it this year. There have been extreme lows, bad work experiences, fights with Himself, finding out Sister 1 has Huntington's. There have been extreme highs, making new friends, having family visits, getting yet another gorgeous tattoo, and buying our first home.

I know that this isn't one of those blogs that attracts thousands of followers all over the world (like a few that I read on a regular basis) but those of you that do read it are the ones that count for me. Thanks for sticking with me through the drama of this year, I hope that I managed to make you laugh once or twice on the way.

I'm going to make myself some french toast now, and it's not because I only have enough yoghurt left for this particular concoction rather than putting it on my customary bowl of cereal... Okay, maybe it's mostly because of that, but I plan to eat it with cherry compote and enjoy every mouthful. Happy anniversary, ya'll. *grin*

Comments

The real deal.

So, I thought I'd been having cravings for the last couple of weeks because I've been eating loads of tuna and pasta, seemed like that was all I wanted to eat. Tuna sandwiches with a cup of tomato soup to dip them in, and egg noodle pasta for some reason. That is, until Monday night. Monday night, Himself called me on his way home from work as usual and asked if we needed anything (again, as usual). I said no, that I'd already been to the store but I wasn't really hungry anyway, and that I'd see him when he got home. I settled in with the cats on the couch and started flicking channels, getting the girlie TV out of the way so that Himself wouldn't have to suffer through it when he got home... Half an hour later, it struck. All of a sudden, out of the blue, I was starving. It wasn't the usual "go rifle through the kitchen until I happen upon something that looks edible" hunger. It was specific, overpowering, CRAVING hunger. What did I want,

Lazy weekend.

Bliss. Sun, moglets, sun, loads of good food, sun, and Himself. Good combo, let me tell you. We let the moggies out sans leads for the first time on Thursday (sporting their new collars and tags, and freshly dosed with flea drops), just for about an hour to see how they handled it. Both of them tore headlong into the flowerbeds in search of new smells and the occasional bug to eat. On Friday I left the back doors of the conservatory flung open to let the seriously amazing weather in and the felines out. This turned into me sitting in the conservatory for longer than I'd care to admit, book discarded to one side because watching them chase bees, butterflies and each other was more amusing. Saturday morning dawned clear and sunny, so I hied myself down to the conservatory (as I woke up around half six and thought Himself might rather sleep a LITTLE longer...) for a bowl of muesli, a cup of peppermint tea, some reading and yet more book neglecting as I watched the lunatics conti

Sprogging.

That's right, folks. The Browns are up the duff. *grin* Shocked? That's okay, so are we. Seems I'm actually related to my mother (who got pregnant while on the pill more than once). Apparently I'm four or five weeks, which may seem like jumping the gun announcement-wise, but I think it'll be interesting to catalogue the changes to my body for future reference... you know, in case in a year or two I forget how miserable I was and decide we need another, I'll have a reminder of what it was like the first time... Heh, just kidding. At least, for now. Physical symptoms aren't too bad at the moment. I've not had any morning sickness (touch wood), but my appetite is very odd. Half the time I'm starving to death, half the time I'm not hungry at all (like now, while Paul is eating lunch and I'm having a glass of orange and peach juice). I've got low level cramps pretty constantly, and it feels like there's a fishhook in my belly but

Random ramblings from the Texan in London.

Search This Blog