I'm not dead

Someone else said those words a million times better than me. She earned a trillion dollars, enjoyed more than one worldwide tour and somewhere along the line picked up a husband that my heart won't allow me to talk about... Despite all of that I'm not dead either.

I've had emails to ask if I've run away with the milkman - obviously this is not true. The second part of his name should be a giveaway. Somebody emailed to ask if I'd fallen off a cliff, which I think is silly and unhelpful. Had I fallen I would not have been able to reply, and that email would have been much better received by mountain rescue. Many people have asked if I'm dead. I'm not.
Maybe I stopped blogging after the huge clip around the ear I got from my wee Scottish Granny for not following the 'airport rules'. I now know that calling when you land is just not clever or acceptable especially when you've been told time and time and time again that you must only call when you collect your luggage. That way Granny can drive right to the entrance without having to pay for parking... If you call when you land she has to drive round and round and gets very angry. And it really isn't funny. Nope, not one bit. I may be a smart ass but I will never be too big for a slap from the wee yen. h'pparently.

My blogging brain cells could have disappeared amongst the four loaves of buttered bread I ate in the first three minutes. Maybe it was the bacon, black pudding or possibly the bacon - did I mention I ate A LOT of bacon? Karma has slapped my ass though as I now look like a pig too... Maybe I haven't blogged due to a lack of energy from not eating this last week in an attempt to make my work trousers fit.
The lack of posts could have been due to the fact that I no longer feel old enough to blog. Spending time with your Mum, Gran and Aunty when you are 'the baby' is not easy. I had Granny whispering 'here's your pocket money' in one ear whilst Mum was fussing in the other. Every time I put a foot wrong Aunty shouted that I was grounded and I was the designated 'shopping bag carrier' the entire time because I'm 'the young yen'.

I had to get used to making dinner plans at breakfast which is not easy I can tell ya. Imagine tucking in to your bacon sandwich cornflakes at 8am and at the same time making plans for your evening meal. Granny seems to have this sussed, she can plan four weeks in advance! I discovered that my brother had been given nicked all of my winter clothes and I had to try and look cool in my Mum's stuff. It's not good to land in Scotland with nothing but shorts and t-shirts...

Time I normally spend blogging was stolen by the local social club. This social club is nothing like you will have ever seen before... My Granny and her neighbours (with an average age of 70) all meet in her garden and sit in the greenhouse!! They have comfy chairs, a stereo and enough cakes and biscuits to feed an army. You can be sure that if you are not in the greenhouse you will be talked about by the members of the social club so that's where I went.I was unable to blog the rest of the time in Scotland because I was being slobbered on by my Mum's abnormally big dog, when he wasn't slobbering on me he was trying to push me off the sofa because apparently I was on his seat. I spent a lot of time laughing at the family sobbing over various television programmes and tried to convince Aunty that saying 'laterz' every time she left the room was completely uncool.

The best thing by far was when Granny's friend visited to see 'the wee granddaughter' and mistakenly went to my Mum, shook her hand and said ' you must be the lesbian!!'...

Then I went to England!!!