What is it all about?

No weigh in which is probably a good job. Sorry there was no blog yesterday but, by the time I got in it was after midnight, I was exhausted and went straight to bed.

I got up this morning and was in one of those, "What is it all for?" moods. I assume everyone gets them. My feet seem to barely touch the ground at the moment and I feel drained. If I was offered a croft in Scotland for a month, I would bite their hand off.

Having said that, I had a pleasant day yesterday. I went to work early to get some baking done for the next couple of days then I went, alone for a change, to Darlington to get my hair cut. I had the unfortunate experience with the Edward Scissorhands girl in Leeds a few weeks ago and since then, the situation has only got worse. I cracked on Friday and rang Saks to ask for an appointment with Trish - only to be told that she left 5 months ago. Deary me, it really is time for a cut. I was apparently in the hands of Richard. I asked him to transform me (tempting to push it and ask him to transform me into the stunning girl in the picture on the wall with beautiful hair and not wearing very much, but there are limits). Well, I had an hour and a half of pampering in very accomplished hands. I do believe each individual hair had specific attention. Even more amazingly, I was transformed - from a rather ragged sheepdog into a sleek, shiny, pleased-with-herself sophisticated pup (can't think of a suitable breed!). I went out for a meal with friends last night (no, I was not very good but it was very good) and got lots of "ooh, I love your hair" type of comments and felt happy as larry.

I woke up this morning looking like me, but with shorter hair. I doubt anyone will even notice I've had it cut. C'est la vie.

Anyway, today got off to a bad start, with me grovelling to a lovely chap for whom I cook meals as he wanted 80 for his freezer and I haven't got time to cook them for at least another fortnight. Then I looked at my emails and there was one from the lovely photographers saying they would be with me by 9am to finally nail the cover shot for the book. Zut alors, it was already 8:10! I ran upstairs and threw on some clothes; put a lemon drizzle cake, some fairy cakes and some chocolate brownies in the oven; drove at speed up to Hawes to grab a couple of cakes I made yesterday; came back and made a batch of scones, whipped some cream, made icing for the buns and lemon syrup for the cake; brewed a pot of coffee - just in time for them to walk in the door at 9.02am - fast work! We then spent the morning in Swaledale in the sunshine with a clear blue sky, where they took the most fantastic photograph possible and all seemed well with the world. I came back, grabbed a chicken sandwich and spent until 6pm at work preparing for tomorrows sale. I came back, ironed clothes for tomorrow, spoke to Mum who is feeling miserable in Cornwall as Gran is unwell...and then finally sat down to speak to my middle daughter for what seems like the first time in days.

I am always busy, always broke and never seem to have time for the children.

Which brings me to the subject of "working mother's breed overweight children" or some such rubbish that was in the news this week. Pile it on, why don't you? (the guilt, not the food on their plates) Apparently, we working mothers are so fraught that we ply our kids with junk food and then force them to watch hours of television because we haven't got time for them. I have to admit that life is easier now that I appear to be more of an embarrassment to them than a necessity. The last thing they want is a guilty mother cajoling them into a hearty walk together - they might at a push do a bike ride I suppose, but I am always afraid of blocking the traffic with my wide load. However, it is a number of days since we all sat down to dinner together and I seem to have barely seen them in days. I hate it when life is like this, especially when there doesn't seem to be a light at the end of the tunnel until the main season finishes in November (then we start preparing for Christmas - oh God, help me!).

This week I have a number of promises to myself:
1) I am going to drink lemon water instead of tea at least twice a day
2) The dog is going for a good walk at least three times before Friday
3) I will play tennis at least twice
4) I will try to be more positive and stop being a misery
5) I will write my blog earlier in the evening/day so that I am not a tired, grumpy old cow!

Wish me luck. I have 4lbs to go before Friday - in fact, after the delicious dinner with red wine last night, I suspect it could be a record breaking 5!

A good week ahead I hope.

E xx