Raining in my heart

So, so sad had to say a final goodbye to my lovely, sweet natured little cat today. It has been a long, lonely twenty four hours. Cradling an old friend, listening to her laboured breath, not wanting to give her up.
Outside the weather has mimicked my mood, cold and desolate.
Fifteen years of purring, never far away, soft and velvety.
I love and miss you Lulu.

Don´t get me started!

Fucking hell how did I get to be in this place, both mentally and physically . Tell you what girls never give up financial independence

It´s pathetic really

Great excitement Marks and Spencer have opened a store in a local shopping mall. I know you are all thinking (pretends people are actually reading this) sooo, whats the big deal? Well let me tell you us expats have nothing but an undying passion for all things Jewish I mean British in the guise of M&S! Prior to this we had to trek down to Gibraltar, queue up at the border control, and then scurry across the airfield to Main Street and Morrisons.
If you have never visited Gibraltar I tell you it´s a very strange place. It has British looking bobbies and red post boxes and the people are neither fish nor fowl. The locals are definately not Spanish although they look and speak Spanish and they are not British either although they speak English too. The Spanish think them a bit mad as do the English. But I quite like their individual quirkiness. A little inbred, maybe, but so are most islanders! Yes and I do know the rock is not an island but might as well be!
Anyway back to M&S in Marbella. It was such a big occasion the major and other local big wigs opened the store and had a little private tour before the mere mortals could enter. I can´t tell you how excited people are about having this little peice of home here in Spain. Why its never happened before remains a mystery as I discover its not just we Brits who eagerly awaited the opening but the Belgiums, the Dutch and many Scandies I have talked to all getting excited too. They all love the knickers!!

Cloudy day

Its done, its been in the oven for 4hrs and now its cooling down. Right enough of that, its cloudy here today. The little Frenchie is back without the devil eye of last week. Micro surgery very successful, especially financially for the vet! Probably spent close on 2000 euros now, not that I resent it but I can barely see myself and would dearly love to have my own eyes fixed. Could have bought a new perfect little puppy for less!
Oh almost forgot I am presently suffering burns. As I tried to refill my lighter this morning the gas stuff got all over me and foolishly I tried the lighter..whooosh my entire arm went up in flames. Luckily I was standing over the sink so dropped offending weapon of fire throwing capabilities into the water. Strange smell of burning proved to be my hair..lost about 2 inches off my fringe!

Nearly there

Well having now gone from one end of the coast to the other on the hunt for black treacle I finally have a tin..great rejoicing in the casa. So the moment arrives when I can finally start the cake, the one that no one really likes but is part of all things Christmas. I have already lost a week driving up and down in search of treacle because according to Delia I need to make this thing 6 weeks before Santa´s arrival. My Belgium friend is confused by this strange British custom and feels sure the cake will be a mouldering mass of crumbs come December 25th. I explain that one has to feed the cake at intervals, like some mewling baby, with alcohol, the cake that is not the baby! So tonight I can start the process off by soaking all the dried fruit in brandy, or Australian rum, as this is what I have handy. Then tomorrow I will be chained to the kitchen as the bloody thing takes about 4 days to bake and can´t be left alone!
Meanwhile my poor little Frenchie is having more micro surgery to her eye..but thats another story.

Bloody Sunday

Yes well this is the first of many, quite possibily not so interesting, ramblings from Spain. What can I say... I live in Southern Spain where the weather is the main activity. It is a bit of a cultural wilderness, unless of course you speak fluent Spanish, which I don´t. I feel detatched more often than not and would really like to return to jolly old blighty. ¨Why not return?¨ I hear you say, well quite possibly the old home is not quite as I remember it, Broken Britain and all that. I did get very depressed with those long winters of dark mornings, followed by grey days quickly fading into dark , cold nights.
But I am sad on this bloody sunday, my lovely slightly mad daughter has returned to Uni today after a reading week spent lying in the sun with a book next to her...well she did have it open!