So, it’s 4am, and I’ve not yet slept.  Hurrah for insomnia!

I’m no stranger to this stupid fucked up sleep cycle, I’ve been living with it for years, but I’ll never get over the fact that 4am is so utterly boring!

I’ve been looking at recipes.  Mainly healthy ones.  It can never hurt to try to eat healthier, can it?

I’ve been browsing the Shitty Watercolour Facebook page.

Listened to another episode of Paul Temple.

My brain isn’t ready to switch off.

A million and one things are racing round my head.  I wonder how they all fit in there.

Just had a mug of hot chocolate, but now I feel sick.

I should probably go back to bed as I have important things to do tomorrow.

It’s too late to take a zopiclone, as I won’t be up before lunchtime if I do that now, and if I was to be, I’d have the mother of all hangovers from it.

I kind of hope that spilling here will allow me to get at least a couple of hours sleep.

I wish I could put my finger on one particular thing that’s bothering me right at this moment, but I guess it’s a culmination of things.  So many things in this old brain.

I applied to go back to uni, so I’m on pins and needles waiting to hear about that.  I’d love to be able to finish my Film Studies course, but unfortunately, it’s not as simple as it may seem.

I’m totally lacking motivation to do anything at the moment, so that’s making me feel guilty.  I enjoyed the sun the other day though, and went for a nice walk.  Baby steps.

I wish people would mind their own sodding business, and focus on their own lives rather than trying to ruin other peoples.  Makes me think of the old ‘people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones’.

I’m worried about this whole election business.  Still no one seems to know what Brexit is, and whilst the media are talking about Diane Abbot getting muddled up in an interview, the government are pushing through some very worrying policies that will affect our young people.

One of my cats has been more clingly than usual since she was spayed the other week, and I don’t know if I should be concerned about that or not.

I feel terribly guilty for not making more effort to see people this past goodness knows how many months.  I currently don’t have a car, so I’m feeling somewhat isolated.  I liked being able to just go out for a drive sometimes, particularly if the weather was nice.  Just go and see places.

I don’t have a light summer jacket.  I have cardigans and winter coats, but nothing really in between, so I was thinking of making the ‘bomber jacket’ from Gerties  ‘Gertie Sews Vintage Casual: A Modern Guide to Sportswear Styles of the 1940s and 1950s’ (seriously, something I’ve been thinking about whilst unable to sleep!).

There was something about shoes too, but that’s not in my brain any more.

I worry a lot.  I think too much.

I need to sleep.  It’s now almost 5am.  Fingers crossed for the sandman.






My Caravan – ‘Tess’

I can’t believe I  didn’t upload this to the blog!!!

I must say, I absolutely LOVE living in my caravan, and if I could move somewhere nearer people I know, I would, and I’d stay in my caravan, and it’d all be fine.  I live in a beautiful part of the world, and waking up to the rolling hills of the Herefordshire/Worcestershire/Shropshire areas is wonderful.  Even when it’s raining.  Oh!! The rain on the roof! There’s something really lovely about being all snuggled up inside, and the British Summertime is doing it’s thing and pelting down sleet!

The fact is, I can’t move her.  Unfortunately, there are a lot of rules & regulations surrounding caravan dwelling, and I’m not really  up to trying to figure out where I can go where I’ll be safe & happy.

And of course, you’re tarred as a pikey if you live in a caravan, which is the issue I had with my original site.

Anyway, here’s a little tour of my house, plus special guest appearances by Momo & Hitomi!  Seriously, you have no idea how much this pair of dopes mean to me. They have definitely managed to help me through.  Too much cat love. Tone down the cat love…

Deep breath…

Work is going well, I mean, stacking shelves & cleaning for 3 hours per shift is pretty easy, and the majority of my earnings will be going towards my Relocation Campaign (take a look here!!).

I’m available for TV work! HAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!


I’ve been going a bit crazy with the videos today – I think because I can actually upload them (I use my phone’s mobile data to connect to the internet you see, and I currently have 2GB!), anyway, I made a little video about my Go Fund Me, and a little bit about how I came to be in the situation I’m in.

My videos have always been the same, I don’t edit, I don’t script, I just get an idea and then chatter, but I think I get my point(s) across!!!

Thanks for watching!


2016 got pretty crappy this past 2 weeks.

I’ll be honest, I’ve never been any good at adulting, I’ve never admitted any differently, but I try.  That’s got to be worth something, right?

Anyway, I’d been reassessing my life, and what I was getting out of it (or more to the point, what I could change to get more out of life).  I decided that paying over half of my earnings to a landlord that gave precisely zero fucks about me wasn’t how I wanted to live my life any more.  It was time to move on. I wanted to save for a future with my partner.  I want to make memories with him, and for us to have a good future.

So I did.  I started packing.  I discovered that my flat wasn’t actually overly expensive.  So what could I do?

As luck should have it, a friend was selling a caravan that had served her husband well whilst he was working away from home, as he was retired, they no longer had use for her.  So I now own ‘Tess’.

Anyway, it was my birthday last month.  I’d arranged a place to site my new home, paid a deposit, and we took Tess up to her new home.

The day before Iw as due to leave the country for a birthday away in Malta with my parents & my partner, I got a call from the site.  They didn’t want Tess there.  She ‘looks old’.  She is old.  She’s a 1990 Tabbert Comtesse 530.  Tabbert being a make favoured by travellers.  Basically, I’d been branded a pikey, but they couldn’t say that.

They offered a newer caravan that was being sold by someone else on the site, so we accepted (I needed somewhere to go, and we were told that the only problem was there was no hot water – could be fixed…).

So off we went to Malta for a week.  We spent time with my partners family who live over there, and it was wonderful to be able to forget the past few stressful months of work, and look forward to the future.  Saving so much money, I would finally be able to save for a good future with my partner.  Things were looking up!!

We arrived back in the UK, with Storm Katie doing her thing, but I was moving house.  Moving to my very own place!! HUZZAH!!!

Bank Holiday Monday – We drove up to the site.  We were super excited to see my new place!  Get my things in, and start making a home.

But no…things don’t go that way do they?! The van they had sold us was damp everywhere, it had mould growing on the carpet.  A mini flood in the battery cabinet.  It hadn’t even been cleaned before it was put in storage for the winter.  This was way worse than Tess!!

So we got the money back, but I was now homeless. 3 days of searching for a place to go seemed fruitless.  My partner had taken 2 days off work to help me.  I honestly don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t been by my side.  We even visited a traveller site to check out the possibility of going there.

After seemingly endless searching, at 5pm on the Wednesday, we put Tess on her new pitch.  So I was no longer homeless!

I’d taken the past 2 days off work, so I told them my situation, explained that I had to get my things from my old flat the following day, but I’d be back in on the Friday.

So Thursday…I moved my things in, started organising.  Took a deep breath, felt relieved.  So much stress had been lifted (even though there was the matter of going to clean the old flat, but that could be done at the weekend no problem!).  A day of bustling and sorting, and I took myself off for tea.

As I was tucking into my amazing food, my partner called.  He came to meet me.  Straight away I knew something was wrong, and more or less forced him to tell me what the problem was.  After all, a problem shared, right?

My uncle had passed away.

Mick was diagnosed with cancer at Christmas.  I’d been finding it difficult to deal with, and had taken some time off work.  This was the family stuff I mentioned in my last post.

He passed away very suddenly at his home on that day.  My mum had called my partner as she didn’t want to have to tell me over the phone.

I spent the following day with my mum.  Coming home to my cats and my own place was lovely though.

Naturally, things started to get on top of me at this point.

I was told by a manager to ‘pull yourself together’, when she caught me having a cry to myself in the kitchen.

I’m facing disciplinary action at work for the time I’ve taken off.

On Friday last week, my partner decided to end our relationship.

This final thing is the one that’s got me the most.

I went to the doctor today, who prescribed plenty of self care.  So I got cream cakes for my lunch.  Hell, I’m happy if I can eat after losing so much weight over the past 2 weeks.  Don’t judge me!

All I can think of at this point is that I am so lucky to have friends that care about me, that check in with me regularly, and 2 cats who will happily stick their bums in my face when I am in bed.

I will say one thing though – My CBT helped me fend off negative thoughts I was having last week.  Turns out those thoughts were right, but I was able to ignore them at the time.  Kinda stuck in a negative thought loop now though.


But it’ll be ok.  It’s always ok, isn’t it?


My word on ‘Sachagate’

Addendum 06/07/2015 – The official cease and desist letter was sent today to 4 people, giving them 7 days to remove all comments made about me, and to publish a public apology.   I’ve made it clear that should the cease and desist be ignored, I will be taking legal action against them.

Bullying is not something that people should be able to get away with, making other people’s lives hell isn’t a show of how big or clever you are, it’s simply pathetic.

Addendum 2 – 10/07/2015 – if you have a read of the comments, Ginny has kindly told me to stick my cease and desist ‘where the sun doesn’t shine’ and that she was ‘enjoying a drink with my partner in the back bar of said pub. I witnessed the altercation about the dog.'[sic].  The ‘altercation’ took place in the front bar, and if she was present, she would also have seen me bring the dog into the pub and sit by the fire with her.

I’m not sure how anyone’s moral compass would say it is ok to make defamatory comments about someone all over the internet, to post threatening messages, and to still be making such comments over 6 months after the event, because a dog was left, quite comfortably in a car, for a short period of time.  And especially after (if indeed they were in fact present), they witnessed the animal be brought inside!

I will never figure people out.  I asked for an apology, but that is apparently beyond these people.  So be it.

This is a pretty serious post today.  To clear up one or two (or a billion) assumptions people I have not met, nor will likely ever meet, but it is a very serious situation that I feel I need to make comment on.

I used to have a dog.  She was beautiful, so full of love, and a real joy to be with.  She was a rescue dog.  She’d had a hard life before she came to me, and I loved her with all my heart.

She was a very anxious little thing, and didn’t like being left alone, so I took here with me wherever it was possible.  This included taking her to work, leaving her in my car, and going out every hour to check on her and give her a little walk and plenty of cuddles.  She was very possessive, and would follow me around everywhere, which meant that I was unable to take her into work with me, so we compromised.

One evening when I was at work (I think it was in January – so yes, it was cold – I left her in my car as usual.  She had a counterpane (look it up – it’s a huge blanket), a crochet blanket, a pure wool car rug, her large bed in the boot (one half of the seat was pulled down so she had access to the whole car), food and water, plus her fur.

As usual, I went out regularly to make sure she was ok, check her food & water, re-make her bed, and give her plenty of fusses.

Then along came (names changed) Gothel and Elphaba, two people I had never met before in my life.

Gothel & Elphaba were drunk (they fail to mention this – this bit will make sense later), as was the done thing in the small town I was living in at the time (there was little else to do), and decided that my dog had been in the car ‘for hours’ and was ‘freezing’.  They came into my work (as is the done thing when drunk people want more drinks – it was a pub, after all), and were immediately aggressive (they fail to mention this), telling me I was awful for leaving me dog in the car in ‘below freezing temepratures’ for ‘hours’ and demanded I bring her in.

For an easy life, I brought her in.  It really wasn’t worth arguing with them, due to their mood.  I’d attempted to tell them she hadn’t been in the car for ‘hours’ (and how would they know how long she’d been there if they’d only just turned up anyway?).  So my little dog was brought in, sat on one of her (three) blankets in front of the fire, and given some pork scratchings (again, this is not mentioned).

The women left, but as they walked by the window, one of them made a threatening gesture towards me.  Neither of them had even acknowledged the dog being sat in the pub in front of the fire.

Later on that evening, after I had finished my shift, I had a look on good old Facebook, and saw that Gothel had taken to a page I was a member of to tell everyone what a vile and horrible creature I was for being mean to my dog.

Now, let me point out again, they have never met me, nor my dog, so how they could comment at all is beyond me, but that is merely one of my bugbears here.

The tirade spread, with many people joining in the rant against me, some saying they should ‘rescue’ my dog by smashing the windows (the police wouldn’t care because of the dog you see), they should report me to the RSPCA, I should be locked in my car overnight in the cold and even threats of violence against me.

The logic here (I assume), is that because they are ‘defending’ a poor animal, that makes them morally right to take to facebook to say exceptionally hurtful (not to mention untrue and inaccurate) things about me, someone they have never met.

Many people joined in the abuse, with not one person asking me what had happened, they all went on what Gothel and Elphaba said.  I didn’t join in the rant, as I felt this would be counter-productive, however, from then on, I made sure I parked my car under the CCTV, and was genuinely worried I may bump into one of these people whilst out (it was a very small town).

Thankfully, nothing happened to me, my property, or my dog before I left the town.

However, months later, people are still talking about me as the ‘vile woman who left her dog in the car overnight in below freezing temperatures’.  You may be thinking ‘hang on a minute, you said for a few hours’, which is correct, it wasn’t overnight, but this is just yet another thing that Gothel and Elphaba missed out of their account of the night.

The furor eventually died down, with Gothel blocking me on Facebook so I could no longer see her rants against me.  Fine, not my problem.  I actually thought it quite funny that this was apparently the biggest drama the town had ever seen.  I moved away from the town for reasons not linked with this drama, but to do with my life moving on, my tenancy ending, and other personal thing I’m not going to go into at the moment.

Months later, Ginny (name changed), who lives in that small town, who I have never met or spoken to (but claims to ‘know me’ – creepy) posts that I was ‘run out of town’ because of how I treated my dog.  I sent a polite message to this person, explaining that I wasn’t ‘run out of town’ and that they should check their facts before making accusations.  Hopefully this was the end of it – they never replied.

Weeks after this, however, when someone who again, I have never met and lives miles away, says to me ‘have you left your dogs in the car in this weather?’ (note it has now gone from 1 dog to ‘dogs’), I feel I now need to take action.  Apparently I have ‘quite a name for myself’.

Gothel and Elphaba have managed to get me a reputation as someone that is cruel to animals, when in fact (anyone who knows me will attest to this) I am the complete opposite.  If Gothel, Elphaba and Ginny actually knew me, they would tell you how I’ve volunteered at animal rescue sanctuaries, how all the animals I’ve ever owned have been rescues, and what bloody spoiled lives they lead.  But the thing is, they don’t know me, so they can’t tell you this.  They’d maybe tell you about the rant I had at the man I saw kick and shout at his dog (I didn’t take to Facebook to do it, I did it in the street, to him directly).

So what is the point of this post?

Well, firstly, as not one person has decided to come to me to ask about this, and instead taken to social media to rant and rave and post defamatory remarks about me, I thought I deserved to have my say, as I have been quite quiet on the matter on public forums, thinking it was a storm in a teacup.

Alas, this was not the case, as was proved today.

So this is my cease and desist, I suppose.

I ask that Gothel, Elphaba, Ginny, and anyone else who has posted dafamtory remarks about me regarding the care of my animals, immediately removes them, and refrains from posting any further comments.

I’d also like to ask that they publicly apologise, and state the fact that they were, in fact, very wrong in the things they have said about me.

I have made sure I have screen shots of all these posts, and should the matter continue, they will be taken to the police and I will be looking at filing a claim for defamation.  This includes the original posts, and things she wrote on her own page at the time plus comments made on posts I have made.

Should anyone who thinks I am this person they say I am, feel free to comment here with any questions you may have about the matter, I am more than happy to talk about this, as I was at the time, it’s just that no one bothered to ask.

I do hope that this will end the matter once and for all.

The things that have been said about me have been exceptionally hurtful, and not to mention exceptionally damaging.  I have been made to fear for my safety and that of my property.  All because of some drunk rant on Facebook.  You may think it’s ok because it’s just Facebook, but if that’s the case, how are people I will never ever meet making comments months after the original post?  Why are you still bringing it up? Was it really the most excitement you have ever had?  Is my life really that interesting? (the correct answer is definitely not…).

N.B. – Yes I was aware of the names I chose.