When Love Notes Go Horribly Wrong

My Husband will testify I’m sure, I’m not a very romantic person. I’m a very loving person but I’m a bit too practical minded for most romantic displays. That being said I do have my moments although they don’t always go according to plan as my last attempt at romance will demonstrate.

A couple of days ago I was up & about rather earlier and decided I would surprise my hubby with a little love note. Keeping it simple I thought I would merely hide ‘I love you’ in a little note where he would find it. Simple, sweet and thoughtful no? Then I decided to get creative . . .

Ever faithful to his morning routine I decided to leave the notes in the cereal, milk top and sugar which he would inevitably use, in that order, to make his breakfast. Oh and while I was at it, I decide to draw an eye for ‘I’ and a heart for ‘Love’. Clichéd but hey, I don’t do this often.

So with my plan in play my husband got up and inevitably reached for his box of cereal. Still groggy and bemoaning the fact he had to get out of a bed a folded piece of paper fell into his bowl. He picked it up, opened it up and found . . . . An eye! A drawing of a big staring eyeball!

Needless to say he was not only confused but a little bit scared by this discovery:

“What the hell is this? Is this supposed to mean you’re watching me or something? Why would you put an eye in the cereal? Are you ok?”

It seems I hadn’t quite thought this love note thing through. Apparently saying ‘I love you’ to someone is a very different thing to putting a crude drawing of an eyeball into their cereal. Take heed people!

I at this stage was on the floor convulsing with laughter but my husband was still, naturally, concerned. I did manage to get my message across ultimately but I think it might be sometime before I try the love note thing again!

The Long & Short Of It

According to the rather amusing TV show Better of Ted, being female, “ . . .Isn’t just about the genitals.  It’s a lifestyle”.   Now I’ve bemoaned the chores of being a woman on here before, from waxing to plucking and all the other tortures in-between I thought I’d experienced the worst of what the female pampering regime could throw at me.  That was until I entered the world of false nails.

In a rather foolhardy attempt to make ourselves presentable at my sister’s wedding my Mother and I thought we’d spruce up our nails by buying some falsies. As I’m not used to having nails (I was a biter!) I opted for some shortish ones. After all, I wouldn’t want to put someone’s eye out.

With a glass of wine in one hand and my very patient Aunt prepping the other we set about beautifying our nails. And beautiful they were. Red, sexy, and tapered. They looked great. I was so chuffed. Truly they were a thing of beauty. Then I had to pee . . .

Now you’d think I would have realised that gluing several centimetres of plastic onto my nails would make life somewhat difficult, after all, this extension has no feeling, no spatial awareness and as I found out, absolutely no respect for the human body.

I quickly learnt to be wary of my new nails and I thought I was adapting well. I went to bed full of hope that I’d be fully used to them in the morning. However after almost gouging my husband and myself several times during the night not to mention getting the flipping things trapped in sheets every 5 minutes I decided that this maybe wasn’t for me and I would take them off.

I went to share this plan with my mother only to find her prising her own nails off with a file. It would seem I wasn’t the only one that had been suffering during the night! Together we finally got the things off and were both left with short bloodied stumps. So much for being presentable for the wedding!

I’ve learnt my lesson. I’m obviously not as committed to the feminine ideal as I thought. I draw the line at self-harm. It wasn’t all bad though. I was so ashamed of my brutalised nails at the wedding that I’ve since stopped biting them. While not quite as pristine as my false ones had been they’re more than presentable and more importantly. I haven’t killed anyone with them yet.

If You Go Down To The Woods Today

You're sure of a big surprise on this quiet little country road in Northern Ireland.  However a teddy bears picnic it most definitely isn't:

Scared yet?  If you're still uncertain of what you are seeing then please let me clarify for you:

Yes ladies and gentlemen, it is indeed teddy bears nailed or hung from a tree!  And this isn’t just one tree.  There is a whole line of them:

Bet you’re scared now?

I have to hold my hands up and say that I have never personally been to this road. My father encountered it on his travels and oddly enough, has never gone back. Would you? I can confirm however that this is the creepiest thing I think I’ve ever heard tell off. Lets just pray no one passes along this road with a child in the car! I for one with never get the following image out of my mind:



I used to own a bear just like the big one there.  Thankfully mine is warmly tucked up in the roofspace, hopefully!

A Brief Postcard

 

Well I'm back in Cardiff having returned yesterday from sunny Ireland (yes, Sunny Ireland!).  After a couple of weeks away for my sisters wedding I have finally returned to my wee home and my beloved blog.  I really hope you didn't miss me too much!

I have had a wonderful break seeing my family, friends and celebrating both my sisters marriage & me and my husbands 6th year wedding anniversary.  I'm sure I've managed to get a few blog posts out of the trip as well so that should make up for my lack of posts.  For now though I need to recover, unpack, process and prepare for my return to work.  

Don't you just hate it when reality comes back to smack you in the face?