Making tracks and asking questions

We arrived home after the usual Sunday desert trail (we had even waded through water on this one) to discover Mini-Me's boat shoes were missing. I asked him where he had put them, to which he replied,
''I left them on the car tyre to dry.''
Choosing not to get angry, I decide there and then to take up the cycling challenge and retrieve them the following day.
I wake up and set my mind, knowing that I can do anything with determination if I really want to and pedal off at 7.15 am. I battle against the strong winds all the way, waving to the workmen I pass, who wave back. It's already boiling hot. The distance is approximately 12km each way and it takes me one hour to reach the shoes in the sand. Standing in the warm sea I splash water on my face and arms to try and cool me down, the salt stinging my skin. Preparing for the return journey I eat two of my emergency Oreo biscuits and sip my diluted Summer Fruits juice sparingly (I only had 1 litre of fluid with me in my pink Slazenger bottle. I could be Touching The Void (2003) in the desert at any given time).

Thankfully the strong winds push me swiftly, safely all The Way Back (2010). I had to sing to keep myself motivated, stopping occasionally to let my head breathe free from beneath the helmet. Back to base camp I lie down on the rug to recover for a while, satisfied that my mission was successfully accomplished. I also consider that I could have become just as hot and exhausted by shoving my head in the oven and jogging on the spot for two hours. The shoes could have been abandoned and new ones bought, but I remain a frugal Yorkshire girl at heart. Anyway, some nutter could have found them, rescued them and started writing weirdly about them?
My clown is safe and well sitting in my cupboard for now, just in case you were wondering?
I am very fond of him and cannot let him go.

We enjoyed the school Sports Presentation Evening last week. Joshua went up on stage to collect his certificate for representing the school in many fixtures during the 2014/2015 season, alongside many friends. Ellie was wonderfully awarded the trophy for the Under 13's Girls Player of the year. I am so proud of both their achievements and happy they are both enjoying school here. I love to see them both on the stage (Ellie hates the limelight, Josh a bit more confident but very serious). They were both in the Summer Serenade in April, which was lovely. Ellie plays clarinet in the Orchestra and Josh sings in the Junior Choir. The whole event was a showcase of many children's musical talents, encouraged by their hard working music teachers. The Finale featured Ellie playing one of the solo recorder pieces in Adiemus (Karl Jenkins) in-between all the performers on stage singing their hearts out.

It has taken two months of tag team reading to finish Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone at bedtime, with Mini-Me. It's a bit mature for him I think, but he loves the film and fancies himself as Ron Weasley.

I have at last watched and enjoyed both The Theory of Everything (2014) and The Imitation Game (2014). It's good to get to know the wonderful, clever people from our world both past and present. I know that you are all very clever or you wouldn't be reading this.

Here is a short time-lapse video dirtbag made for us from the Barista. She thoughtfully chose the song Heaven by Bryan Adams. He sang the theme tune for Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991) one of the first films Romeo and I watched together.

A while ago I stumbled across a Yorkshire diarist, Anne Lister (1791-1840) who wrote a four million word diary, one sixth of it apparently in code to her female lover! I have been writing diaries since the age of 10 and have many details in them ranging from boring everyday stuff to the many male victims of my teenage obsessions. Sometimes I  think I am very devious in my blog posts chucking in some hidden references to specific friends or family members, usually through song lyrics. I can't help it, it's too much fun and it hopefully keeps the special relationships alive.
Et bien sur, (argh! I can't get the circumflex above the u, the same problem as the Lindt & Sprungli umlaut, despite a Swedish friend and Hungarian family member assisting me. I blame this Arabic keyboard set to English.) I have to continue speaking french for the sake of ma Famille en Paris.
La vie est belle.

By the way, my self-diagnosed mythical Mid-life crisis is a purely positive force which I am celebrating.

I spied with my little eye this dead, desert viper. What does he want to know, I wonder?

Four days of fun

The start of the recent four-day half term holiday took the four of us to the Barasti (an elevated bamboo/palm frond summer house on a private beach, with an additional enclosed air-conditioned room complete with fridge and T.V). It's a kind of Arabian style glamping I suppose. Dirtbag kicks up a bit of a fuss about going but once we arrive she relaxes and enjoys the paradise for what it is. We swim before sunset and while I prepare the basic barbecue dinner, the three play football on the beach. My beloved friends the mosquitoes join us and have a feeding frenzy off both my calves and ankles, resulting in about twelve itchy red lumps. Unfortunately for me, they adore my O positive blood. We all sleep together in the air-conditioned room which is pitch black and don't awake until 8am the following morning.

There are some gentle rolling waves rushing in when we stagger out into the blinding sunlight. Dirtbag can't bear the fun any longer and says she feels sick, so Romeo takes her home. Meanwhile, Mid-life crisis bobs around solo in the surf for a while (Mini-Me is doing some more word searches in his yellow book, highlighting the words found in fluorescent green) when suddenly about thirty flying fish jump out a few metres in front of me, both startling and delighting at the same time. It reminds me of the scene in the Life of Pi (2012) when the fish fly over and into the boat. I love that book and film equally. Unlike the struggling to survive crew members, I didn't need to catch the fish to stop myself from starving as I had already eaten a turkey and smoked cheese sandwich made with farmhouse brown bread for breakfast. I like to think the fish had heard about Susie's Arabian Adventure and just wanted to feature in it.
Once again, this paradise only lasted 24 hours (the allocated booking slot and for a reasonable fee) but I loved every minute of it.

We continued having holiday fun doing more sea swimming and some banana boating. I wanted to insert a video here that I took, but apparently it's too big! (I am exercising the art of self-control now and am not going elaborate on the matter of size again). Imagine the scene: I am hanging on for dear life to both the speed boat and the iPhone. The kids are laughing and screaming hanging onto the inflatable yellow banana, as I am ooh and ahh ing and wobbling all over the place. The recorded footage resembles The Blair Witch Project (1999) on water and in broad daylight. I blame the boat driver, aka Romeo.

Sadly we cancelled our Annual Hash Ball, fearful of Big Brother closely monitoring our fun and also the venue having being suddenly usurped by VIPs. C'est la vie! I remain at peace, my conscience clear, knowing that an even bigger pair of eyes are watching over all our comings and goings. I know this because when I look up into the bright, blue skies or black, starlit nights they wink at me and a still, small voice whispers in the winds, 'It's OK Susie, keep on singing, dancing, swimming, cycling, walking, talking, reading, writing, laughing and living.You're on the right path.'

How much Pharrell style fun, fun, fun I have had, looking after some other children recently. I spent one day with three great kids, (plus our own great kids) laughing, playing and splashing about in the local pool. Then four cute, cuddly days with a six-month-old baby. It brought back many happy memories while creating new ones for me, as I love that feeling of nurturing and caring for others. Why is it so much easier to look after other children than our own? Obviously because we don't have the overwhelming responsibility for them, for the rest of their precious lives.
Warning: This is not an advert for my childminding services and NO Romeo, I do not want another baby!

Speaking of babies I have now completed the first draft of my novel (or novella, which could become a short story after editing?) and printed it out on paper. I walked around the house with it for a while hugging the pages close to my chest, tears of pride and joy welling up in my eyes. It has taken me nine months to create and is 40,110 words long. The next step is really daunting. I have to ask some of my trusted friends to read it and open myself up to receive constructive criticism so I can redraft it. I'm really scared about doing this, but it has to be done.

Recently read: The Rosie Project: (Don Tillman 1) by Graeme Simsion.Very funny.
Currently reading: Another Sky, Voices of conscience from around the world. Utterly compelling as all the authors have been imprisoned or persecuted by their desire to have freedom of expression.
Singing: Can't Deny My Love by Brandon Flowers, I'm Alive by Magenta and Down To The River To Pray by Alison Krauss.
Enjoying some challenging circuit training sessions, so I'm dancing in my dreams to conserve energy.


'' Fear can hold you prisoner. Hope can set you free.''

  The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

Spa Class

Spa Class

''Mirror, mirror on the wall

who is the most stressed of all?''

First skin step is to cleanse:

wipe off the daily grime

stroking upwards, choking,

cotton wool pads absorbing my make-up mask,

skin shining, light-bulb luminous.

The surface reveals

what the heart usually feels

a face that's weathered many storms:

furrowed brow, 

farmers tracks ploughed

between bushy eyebrows,

yellowing white in corners of eyes resting on

purple, puffy pillows,

freckles, moles, faint moustache grows.

Second skin step is to tone:

using the cool refreshing fluid

dare I go deeper

take another layer off myself?

Analyse, memorise.

I see the time I punched a bully in the chin

and shook.

The first boy I tongue kissed under a coat,

grief-stricken tears when Grandma died.

I hear you and me begin to be,

laughing, talking, walking free.

Time together, time apart

yearning, learning, relationship art.

I feel the contraction that came so quick,

half searching down the toilet

feeling sick,

as I tremblingly flushed our baby away

while you both slept, I wept

alone and wept.

Then forced myself to phone NHS Direct.

Third skin step to use a mask:

feel it tighten, maybe crack

as it covers little fissures, bumps and hollows

like a hippo I wallow,

can't eat, can't speak, can just about breathe.

Step four to nourish and moisturise:

relax and shut my eyes.

What lies ahead I do not know

the map is written

I just follow.

Calming cream fills my open pores

as time heals many wounds and sores.

Skin will get thinner with age, I'm told,

my map gets bigger as life unfolds.

''You, my princess are most precious of all

no need to worry, I'm here when you fall.

You are not perfect, 

I don't think that you should

use mirrors to check that you are good,

understood?''

Originally written in 2009, reworked in 2015

Girl Power!

Although I do cry with both joy and sadness, what baby could also be suffering a mid-life crisis? I am definitely not posh. Although being quite sporty, I have to admit that I am not as youthful or flexible as others and I don't consider myself to be scary. Hmm, except when I do occasionally 'lose it' and chuck clothes from a suitcase all around a hotel room in Istanbul screaming at the top of my voice, ''I don't want to go back to (insert swear word and add an ing) Qatar!'' So, the choice was obvious. Ginger Spice.
By the way, my favourite spice is cinnamon.

Did I google how to create a Union Jack dress on Election day or did I just boldly go where my alter ego took me? Obviously the latter. My super sporty sister-in-law, Kate, had brought two patriotic towels for Ellie and Josh during the Easter holidays of 2014. I wonder how many packets of cereal my poor brother, niece and nephew had had to consume to obtain these practical gifts? The Kellogg's logo is imprinted along one edge of each towel, the British Swimming logo along the opposite one.

Bravely I chose to wear one towel which made it almost as short as the real Geri Halliwell dress. I enlisted Romeo's help to safety pin these two advertising edges together down my back and rear. Sternly warning him not to prick me as I was not in the mood and already excited enough to be dressing up yet again. The four pins were soon in position, black leggings beneath and my reliable black sports bra was conservatively concealing my cleavage. Unlike the real Ginger Spice, I didn't want to draw too much attention to myself. I thought I remained very decent despite the shortness of the towel. Killer heels would no doubt result in some damage so I opted for a more sensible, comfortable pair of sandals. I was ready to step back into the 1990's. The party being ''Baby Spice's'' 30th celebration!

Quick flashback through that key decade of life in my twenties:

1990-1993 Bretton Hall College (BA Hons degree in English with Inter-Arts)
1990- met Romeo which sometimes clashed with a new found spiritual side of Susie
1994- worked as a volunteer on a sailing project in Essex
1995-1997 first job as a Care Assistant for children with head injuries in Bury, Lancs
1997- August 9th married Romeo and moved to Formby, Liverpool (where I was also homesick for six years) and worked as a Teaching Assistant with a deaf pupil
1998- 1999 successfully completed the intense PGCE course and proudly became a Teacher of English. Unfortunately, I cried most days unless I played hockey, sang or danced the stress away

Phew! Back to the future, we're in 2015.

I didn't labour in vain for nothing as I was so comfortable in my costume.  It was a very hot night so the sweat from my armpits was easily absorbed in the United Kingdom. How was the Election progressing I kept thinking? Going to the toilet was no problem either as after washing my hands I could simply dry them on my towel dress and return to the fun. It was too hot to dance which was a bit disappointing although at the recent Adidas themed 40th I went to, (equally comfortable in same leggings and sports bra, a green vest top with a homemade retro adidas logo pinned on the front, denim mini-skirt and trainers) I ecstatically got lost in the music for three or four hours. So I definitely had my dancing fix then. However,''I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want.''

I really, really want to be in this Snow Patrol video from 2011.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=GwTXwJg6_VE

I do feel that I have been called out in the dark just now, as I am enjoying some chats with friends on WhatsApp. It's also helping communications between crisis and dirtbag. Responding to my heart and trusting in timing, I phoned my special friend Arthur (97 years old) hoping to catch him on good form, which thankfully, I did. We talked together again for ten minutes or so and I enjoyed hearing his good humour and tinkly laugh, from across the miles. During his six long years away at war, showing love in action as a soldier fighting for his country, Arthur could only communicate by writing letters to his beloved wife, Betty. When I used to visit him every Wednesday morning, at his request I would read some of these letters aloud to him after he had lost his wife and his eyesight failed. I would always silently cry, trying not to smudge the ink on these lovely, letters of love.

The water sports club held its canoe and raft races with a lot of Hoyle participation and commendable rankings. Romeo came 2nd in the canoe race and 1st in a four-man team in the mixed raft race. Mini-Me and Romeo also came 3rd in the doubles canoe race. I laughed my head off coming 2nd in the ladies canoe race and enjoyed every minute with my super team of ''Wonder Women,'' complete with flapping red capes and sequinned eye masks, struggling into 2nd place for the ladies in the raft race. A definite highlight was all of us singing the chorus to ''I'm Every Woman,''by Chaka Khan or Whitney Houston, over and over again, loudly, as we paddled past a struggling male team.

Please don't be too deceived by the recent photo on Romeo's facebook page. In real life, I'm chubbier and more wrinkly. Mum and I decided long ago that we both look much better when we smile, even though smiling creates more wrinkles. I'm posting a poem next time called Spa Class which I wrote in 2009. Although it's very personal I hope it speaks to you in some positive way.

I've now written 32,418 words of my novel.
I aim to finish this first draft by the end of May.

My heart leaps as I realise I will be coming home again very soon.

''Make it last forever friendship never ends''

Lyrics from Wannabe by the Spice Girls (1996)

Sheik, rattle & roll

We were warmly greeted at Sheik Faisal's Museum for our allotted 1-3 pm time slot and told that, ''Unfortunately, there wasn't a tour guide available today.''
''No problem,'' I said. She then replied, ''You are thirty-five minutes late,'' and I thought, welcome to Hoyle time. The everlong Lucas part of me will always strive to be on time, if not at least a good bit earlier to appointments, parties, hash runs! I do get a bit stressed if I am late for things which, unfortunately, appears to have rubbed off onto Ellie and Josh.
Having walked through the giant wooden doors and across numerous brightly patterned carpets, I wondered if I had Narnia-like entered into the prop department on The Game of Thrones film set. Instantly I think of Jon Snow. I wasn't too impressed with a couple of different wigs I saw (a long blonde one and a black frizzy one) on some vacant mannequins modelling various outfits I would never ever fit into.
''Is this a dagger which I see before me?'' Yes, said the information card next to it. It is a Mogul one with an ivory handle inlaid in gold. A nineteenth Century Sudanese knife nearby is wearing a real crocodile cover on it. I saw a pair of fighting axes and an Ottoman sabre and plenty of guns on show, which practically blew me away. How many weapons does one man need? There were even some English and Scottish arrow heads used in the Crusades on display.
''Let's try and get some spares for the fire engine,'' I suggested as we passed the colourful, Dodge truck collection. We were having some work done on our red one and had kindly been lent a green one for this trip. We had it washed later in Doha while we went shopping and couldn't find it for ages in the car park. It was an enlightening moment when I suddenly realised we were expecting to see a shiny red one instead of a shiny green one.

Le Camping
I really wanted to camp overnight somewhere during the holidays. Due to Ellie's training schedule and Bruce sitting we couldn't go with our friends so had to plan to go solo another night. I nearly was literally by myself. Ellie was at a sleepover so I thought it would be a great opportunity to lure my boys out into the desert. Talk about reluctant. Golf and T.V were controlling their lives and I wasn't having it anymore. Any amount of reasoning, reassuring or tempting seemed to fall on deaf ears. I had to threaten the only alternative.
''Well, if you don't want to come with me, I'll go on my own,'' I said nonchalantly and truly meant it. It seemed to do the trick, leaving me free to go Wild (2014) like Cheryl Strayed some other time in my future.
I was content to think that we could concentrate on just being instead of doing.

I sent Romeo off to the shop to buy some fresh fish, I was planning a Susie Stein outdoor barbecue special. Fish, squirted with lemon juice, sprinkled with herbs, wrapped in foil and cooked over glowing coals. Perfect. I thought it maybe asking too much of the lads to go spear fishing for their supper.
It only took us about three hours to get everything ready and eventually we set off.
Hunting high and low, we finally agreed on a suitable pitch not too far away to be able to access the golf course easily the following morning (it was part of the compromise and anyway it gets too hot to hang around for long).  Romeo expertly erected the 4 man tent (a raft race prize won last year) while Mini-Me and mid-life crisis went for a dip in the sea.
We were camped approximately 7 metres from the rocky shore. As the setting sun soon left us, the beautiful stars came out to dazzle us. Mini-Me was peacefully doing his word search by torchlight until le poisson sans frites was ready. Then after many gooey marshmallows were devoured we sat and chatted. I kept my eyes on the sky and was rewarded at the right time to see a shooting star, for my eyes only. I was ecstatic, of course.
I have to use my wishes wisely as most of my dreams really do come true.

The wind picked up and as we settled down to sleep the tents sides flapped loudly. It sounded like someone shaking a big packet of crisps in your face. Do you remember those crisps that had a little blue packet of salt inside you had to empty and shake, (Smith's Salt 'n' Shake)? That kind of noise but continuous and loud. A fair amount of tossing and turning ensued, but I expected that. We eventually slept and the next time I stirred it was dead calm until, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzziiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiipppppppppppppppppppppp, followed by a waterfall.
The big light switched on at about 5 am. Mini-Me awoke saying he had slept well. It is wonderful to see this part of the world at first light, pale and water coloured, the colours defining as the sun is rising.

Writing in retrospect I consider how very fortunate we are to be able to camp for fun when so many are currently forced to camp in and around Kathmandu, for survival, and with no homes to return to.


The following is from The Five People You Meet In Heaven by Mitch Albom.

The Blue Man smiled. ''No, Edward. You are here so I can teach you something. All the people you meet here have one thing to teach you.''
Eddie was sceptical. His fists stayed clenched.
''What?'' he said.
''That there are no random acts. That we are all connected. That you can no more separate one life from another than you can separate a breeze from the wind.''

Another Kitchen Drama

The second recently suffered sandstorm summoned Bad Omens for me as the church service I usually attend was cancelled, as was Ellie's training. The day after brought forth a raging teenage dirtbag tornado, which I can only assume was born of frustration.
I must introduce her to James.

                                                           Cast (in order of appearance)

                                                           Susie       Suzanne Hoyle

                                                           Ellie         Eleanor Jayne Hoyle

It is 4.15 pm. The bright UFO lights are once again blazing down upon me as I re-enter the domesticity I had escaped from (body surfing in champagne or more likely cava, with Mini-Me). There is a baking war zone awaiting me. Un-mixed mixture was coagulating in a bowl. At least 100g of butter was congealed in the sink. Used utensils, flour trails, egg shells and sugar grains were lining the shores of the battlefield. Meanwhile, the milk was relaxing on the work surface with his blue hat off, enjoying some time chilling out of fridge prison.

Susie (shouting)                      Ellieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Ellie (entering the kitchen)        I wanted to surprise you but it went wrong.

Susie (calmly)                         That's great thanks, but please can you tidy up.

Ellie (slightly screeching)          I'm trying to do something nice for you and you tell me
                                              off. Well, I won't bother in future.

Susie (trying to remain calm)    It's really lovely of you but I need you to take
                                              responsibility and clear up after yourself.

Ellie (screeching louder)           Agghhh! It's not fair, am I your maid or something?

Susie (jokingly, hoping humour will cut through the tension)

                                              Come on Cinders just wash up will you.

Ellie (like the nuclear weapon Fireball)

                                              Just make fun of me then, it's not fair.
                                              YOU'RE SO MEAN!

At which point Ellie begins frantically washing up, flinging Fairy Liquid lemon scented suds everywhere. (Where is my fairy godmother when I need her?)
Susie torments the teenage soul further, unable to keep calm and carry on any longer.

Susie (meanly)                       That plate's not clean.

Ellie picks up the unclean, plain white plate to scrub again. Soap sud slippery it falls from her fair hand and smashes into smithereens on the floor tiles, Greek plate throwing style. Susie walks silently away from the tragedy only to Tourette-like curse and swear uncontrollably as she hangs washing on the line outside. Immediately the air around her turns dark blue and black like a big, nasty bruise. When she calmly re-enters the disaster zone, Ellie is on her knees with a red dustpan and brush sweeping up the plate shards.

Ellie                                        Sorry mum.

Susie                                      It's OK Ellie. Thanks for tidying up.        


A ceasefire is resumed.

Easter Holidays

I settle down for my Wednesday night film ritual, having psyched myself up to watch American Psycho (2000). I like to visually challenge myself it seems. I'm looking in Patrick Bateman's fridge and sort of squeal and laugh simultaneously when I see the severed female head in a plastic bag sitting on a shelf. At exactly the same time our front door (which has been left ajar) slams loudly shut as the mother of all sandstorms makes her sudden, dramatic entrance, raging all around the Middle East. Pausing the film, I inspect the swirling orange coloured sand through the window, obscuring everything like a dense fog. The palm fronds are flapping wildly in the winds and I realise that I am more frightened by the weather than the film.
I'm already snacking on grains of sand filtering into the house so I don't need any crisps, popcorn or chocolate as I carry on watching. Like Bateman, I narrate my everyday activities in detail, I also enjoy music and exercise. And I really do like L'Occitane en Provence toiletries and have recently acquired some delightful Fleur d'Or & Acacia hand cream, a belated birthday gift from a kind friend. The similarities cease here. The only weapons of choice I have are a pair of small, stainless steel nail scissors, some tweezers and the occasional waxing strip (I do like a freshly sharpened pencil though). All of the afore mentioned are tools verging into the realms of self-harm depending how much pain I can cope with inflicting upon myself. I certainly couldn't hurt anyone else, not even a fly. Although I must confess to killing at least a couple of blood thirsty mosquitoes in self-defence.

The following day school was closed due to 'extreme weather conditions,' so a great start to the holidays. It reminded me of some super snow days we had sledging in the fields with friends in Shepley. Except that we were stuck inside, choking on sand and dust that no sooner had you removed, returned with an apocalyptic vengeance.
I did not predict such strong winds of change and chaos!

On a more positive note, I am happy to report that the new swimsuit has been well and truly wet tested, chlorinated in both pools and baptised in the Gulf. It seems to be bearing up and holding 'everything in its right place.' I know Thom Yorke of Radiohead wasn't referring to some newly purchased Speedos with his song title but to a 17th Century proverb as follows,

A place for everything and everything in its place
(The Oxford Book of Quotations, Wikipedia).

I studied my PGCE with a lovely Liverpudlian lad who was and still is in a band called Clinic.They supported Radiohead on their Kid A Tour, playing under a big top in Warrington in the year 2000. Romeo and I got free tickets to the gig which was great. Watch the video for Miss You by Clinic on full screen, it's psychedelically cool. I've hopefully added the correct link at the end of this post.

Bruce the dog came to stay with us while his lovely owner went buying more crazy costumes for the fluffy little Pomeranian pooch that he is. His wardrobe is better than mine. I, unfortunately, managed to allow Mini-Me to transform himself into a strawberry as he got really badly sunburnt one day. His freckles resembled the seeds in the fruit of his round, red face. Bad mother. Other Easter fun included egg painting and roll racing them with many lovely kids and sharing a whole lamb that had been cooked on a crucifix-like spit over an open fire, Argentine style. We also dug up an overgrown, non-fruit producing, banana tree. I shook the corm roots at Josh, terrifying him by pretending it was Medusa's head. Sheikh Faisal's Museum, Another Kitchen Drama and Le Camping are coming to your screens soon.

One afternoon/evening while Mini-Me and I were partying on the beach in the straw house one of the Three Little Pigs had built, Romeo was supporting teenage dirtbag at her first athletics competition at an American School in Doha. She has been training with Doha Athletic Club set up and run by Liz McColgan for three months or so now and is really improving in strength and speed. It's inspiring to watch these young people train and Liz is so great with them, encouraging and pushing them to achieve their potential and having a laugh with them too. I am so proud of Ellie's commitment and proud of myself for putting my foot down on the accelerator of the fire engine, taking her to some of the training sessions. She usually attends three sessions per week which last an hour and half with an hours journey both there and back. Phew!  Romeo does worry about me driving into Doha. I assure him that I am fine as I always signal my intentions whilst praying my way around the manic roundabouts.

Once the dust settled after yet another shamal, Josh and I cycled down to the beach to have some fun together. The winds were still strong, creating crashing waves which I managed to coax him into. It was a paradise for only us two and as he punched the breaking waves, shrieking with delight, he told me it was like swimming in champagne. That's my boy.

Thank you for continuing to read me and for your kind words of encouragement. I'm fast approaching 5000 page views now which makes me a bit giddy. I trust I'm brainwashing you all in a purely positive way.
'I think my mask of fake insanity will never slip,' Yorkshire Psycho (2015). Ha ha ha ha!

Reading Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett (second book club choice, it's BRILLIANT. I should be reading The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom)
Listening/singing/dancing to, Let The Good Times Be Never Ending by The Charlatans from their new album Modern Nature
Other films recently watched:
Romeo and Juliet, Baz Luhrmann version (1996) my Romeo's choice, we watched it together with dirtbag
Frozen (2013) just me and Mini-Me, I LOVE it!
Rio 2   (2014) the family Hoyle and Bruce the dog
The Help (2011) and One Day (2011) solo viewing to enable lots of laughing, crying etc in private

www.youtube.com/watch?v=dqBOqEy7GKg