Archives

New Year – Same Old Me!

Jan8
New Year - Same Old Me!

New Year – Same Old Me!

It’s  always a bit of a low point when you reach this grey, miserable, post Christmas time of year & the reality of just how many Celebrations you ate over Christmas starts to hit home.  Everywhere you turn there’s pressure on you to metamorphose on Jan 1st from your chrysalis into something bright & beautiful: ‘a new you’.  Perhaps I’d just rather accept my limitations.

Still there was a little brightness to the day when, driving through the village after dropping the boys off at school, I saw the delectable Simon on his usual morning stroll from the newsagent.  We gave each other a little wave.  I did wonder about stopping the car, winding the window down & offering him a lift but I didn’t want him to catch me without my barely nude foundation.  And besides, as we were only 50 yards from his home, I didn’t want to appear too keen.

The object of my desire

The object of my desire

'Cleaning the boy's bedroom dispelled my romantic notions'

‘Cleaning the boy’s bedroom dispelled my romantic notions’

What with the excitement of seeing Simon, especially with his bald head fully exposed to the elements, my hot flush had worked to boiling point by the time I arrived home on the drive.  A calming cup of tea & a couple of Jaffa Cakes were in order.  Then cleaning the boys’ bedrooms soon dispelled all romantic notions.  You should have seen what I found under James’ bed especially after his girlfriend came to stay over New Year (supposedly sleeping in another bedroom!)

The house seems so empty with the boys back to school; they’ve both got important exams this year; Julian has GCSEs & James has ‘A’ levels.   James has just got an offer from Cambridge. It all means extra pressure for me of course  – on top of everything else.  It’s a good job I’ve got Guy, my ever dependable & reliable husband.  What would I do without him?

The Holly & The Ivy

Dec24
Postbox in snow

Postbox in snow

I write this from the settee with a large box of chocs; I’m on my own in the house this afternoon whilst my two boys are with their mates & hubby Guy still at work before breaking up for Christmas.  I’ve just had a rather surreal experience at this morning’s aquafit as we burnt off our calories to the worst ever technopop cover version of Christmas songs then dived into a box of Celebrations brought along by our trainer, Kerry.

I have been having great deliberations about whether to send Simon a Christmas card.  We are after all acquaintances through the Upper Welford Greenhouse & Garden Society so hopefully his wife won’t suspect any ulterior motives, hopefully just thinks I’m being neighbourly.  So with heart pounding , I strode up Simon’s garden path, not even stopping to admire the Viburnum Tinus in his border, posted my festive greetings through his door & scuttled back though the gate.

Shirley edits ep2

Shirley edits ep2

This last few weeks I have been very excited by the introduction of my Celiatime49 YouTube channel thanks to Kris at The Legend of Skippy.  In the coming weeks we hope to upload all sorts of snippets, outtakes, uploads & new episodes as we film & edit the series of Celia films.  Listenupnorth has just had a big edit session with Shirley & we hope to bring you episode 2 soon.  Here’s a GUEST REVIEW by ElementaryVWatson of how 2012 has gone for listenupnorth.

Anyway, Guy’s presents are still to wrap so I suppose I’d better get round to it before he comes through the door in need of a large gin & tonic.  So I’ll wish you a fantastic Christmas – whatever that may mean to you.

From Petals to Poundstretcher!

Nov9

We all need a bit of retail therapy on occasions.  Preparing for episode 3, I needed a makeover to reflect my new found confidence (to find out why you’ll have to wait & watch ep3 when it’s released!).  Therefore I needed no further excuse to head for the shops.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I am also very pleased to announce

The winners of the Celia Romantic Story Writing Competition:

First: The Morning Read by David Graham Ward

Second: Fulfillment by Irene Styles

Third:  The Dreamer by Agnes Frain

The winning entries will shortly be available to listen online or download from listenupnorth.com

And the Runners Up:

A Holy Passion by Amabel Craig

Making Things Happen and  A Woman’s Dilemma by Margaret Nesbitt

Well Done everyone!

Lights, Camera, Action – and Cocoa!

Oct4

Actor Penny learning lines at the dress rehearsal

I am waiting eagerly for tomorrow when filming is to start on episode 2 of ‘Celia, Housewife 49ish’ .  Hopefully.  We were supposed to  film last Tuesday but rainfall of biblical proportions meant that poor Shirley with all her camera & lighting equipment had to turn back due to floods & blocked roads.

However we did manage a dress rehearsal the day before.  Preparing for a night time scene we had to blu-tack lots of thick black card up at the bedroom windows.  Sue gave lots of really helpful advice from her time at the BBC & was very tactful when dealing with writer & director listenupnorth’s indecisiveness.   And I did think that actor Penny cut rather a dash in my dressing gown & slippers.  She looked quite at home as she rehearsed her lines.  Just needed a cup of warm steamy cocoa to complete the picture and calm her conscience after a romantic brush with Simon from the village Greenhouse & Gardens Society.

No expense spared - new slippers for the star

No expense spared – Penny borrows my slippers for this demanding role

Of course living with OCD it’s been a nerve wracking experience to prepare my bedroom for the shoot. I must have wiped round a dozen times already not to mention washing & ironing the curtains.  You should have see the dust behind the drawers when Guy moved them out to make room for the camera.  I thought if my bedroom is going out global I don’t to be found wanting in the cleanliness department.  So I had Guy paint the skirting boards just in case.

Now all I have to do is put a note around the neighbours asking them not to use their lawn mowers & chainsaws tomorrow. Very difficult round here with so many active retired people, as the wives do like to send their husbands out into the garden every day.

It’s a little while since they shot episode 1 so they’ll  have quite a job to line everything up on the dressing table for continuity purposes. Roll on tomorrow when they arrive – ‘Lights, Camera,  Action – and Cocoa!’

It's cocoa time!

It’s cocoa time!

Postcard 3: Dans le foret

Sep9

Bonjour mes amis!

Huelgoat

Au’jourdhui we went inland to Huelgoat and nous avons mange nos jambon baguettes sitting sur un bench near le lac.  A few of the locals wished us ‘bon appétit’ as they passed which I thought was lovely.    I really like the Breton people, it’s not like Paris where they give that huge nonchalant shrug when all you’re asking for is une tasse de café avec du lait froid.  Anyone would think you were sending them to the ends of the earth on a mission to find the elixir of eternal youth.

Giant boulders, Huelgoat

It’s a good job that everyone here is so friendly & helpful as there’s only so far your grammar school French from 35 years ago can take you.  I mean your hardly equipped to ask for those holiday essentials every woman needs – a roll of black bin bags and something for your husband’s verucca.  But with a bit of gesticulation & a phrase book, I just about ended up with what I needed.

From the centre of this lovely little town we walked into one of the woods which form part of ‘le Parc naturel regional d’Armorique’.  It was an amazing landscape – quite surreal: huge boulders strewn haphazardly along the riverside under a canopy of beech trees, covered in moss and forming caves and amazing shapes.

Le Grotte d’Artus

We followed a recommended route to take in ‘le grotte d’Artus’ the cave where King Arthur is reputedly buried, but don’t tell the Cornish or indeed the Cumbrians that because they too are very adamant that Camelot was on their sacred land.  Then we chugged up the hill to the Camp d’Artus.  Of course the day we decided to go for a walk also coincided with the start of the heaviest period known to woman.  But like King Arthur you just have to soldier on and wear jogging pants.

Still, that didn’t stop me daydreaming about Simon, imagining that he was with me under the beech trees with the dappled light shining upon us as we caressed each other.  Poor Guy, I felt like a traitor but then I thought he’s probably in the midst of going for a long walk with Julia Bradbury.   Who can tell?

Postcard 2: La Vie en France

Sep4

Bonjour mes amis!

Je suis dans La France en Famille.  C’est un gite tres charmant mais I do wish the boys would open their bedroom window as it smells comme un gerbil’s cage in there dans le matin.  Goodness knows what Madame Marie would think.  I only popped my head round the door to ask if they had any dirty washing; you should have heard the response.  I thought it’s my holiday too you know; I didn’t exactly plan to spend it groping under your bed for putrid socks and undies whilst you have the luxury of a lie in.

Greetings from Locquirec

When the boys had finally managed to get up, we had a baguette or two for lunch then took the voiture to Locquirec just east of Roscoff.  It’s a lovely little seaside town reminiscent of one of my favourite films – Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday – the one where he stays in a hotel and gets caught up in all sorts of escapades like that funny tennis match.  It was shown at our village hall last year when The Upper Welford Film Club had a French season.  We took a walk out onto the headland and arrived at the other side of the town to find a French car boot sale.  It was just like an English one – only with euros.

French car boot sale: like an English one but with euros

Guy & I left James & Julian on the beach at their request – I think they wanted to sit on a rock and further their French conversation skills with a couple of girls in bikinis.  We found a little café overlooking the harbour; whilst Guy went for a crepe; I decided to have a ‘Mega Emocion’ which was not in fact the latest sexual awakening from 50 Shades of Grey but merely an French X-rated glacee – a sort of Magnum with nuts.

Ice creams in Locquirec

We returned to the boys to find that they had been usurped by a couple of local guys on scooters; I couldn’t help but feel sorry – they’re my boys after all but they are going to have to learn about affairs of the heart sometime.  Talking of which, should I send Simon a postcard?  I’m sure he would count me as one of his friends?  Difficult to know what to write – of course I’d have to keep it general, be indifferent and address it to Simon and his family.

Of course I can’t say what I really feel – Dear Simon, Wish you were here!  Love Celia xxx

Dear Simon – Wish You Were Here!

Postcard 1: Celiatime en Vacances

Sep1

Bonjour mes amis!

Apres un tres long journey to get here, myself & the family are finally ensconced in a petit gite nestling in the beautiful Brittany countryside a cote des owners, Marie et Jean-Paul.  I do hope that Guy will now settle down – he’s been in overdrive checking tyres chaque deux minutes to ensure the pressures are correct for our load: he even bought a new gadget for the holidays.  And then he keeps running down his checklist to ensure we comply with all these new French laws like having a high visibility jacket for everyone in the car in case of breakdown.  I mean who wants to wear one of those?  It’s worse than socks with sandals.

La Phare, Roscoff

We arrived in France this morning, disembarking at some unearthly hour.  I sometimes wonder if the French arrange these ferry times to give maximum disorientation to les Anglais.  Thankfully, we found a boulangerie open in Roscoff serving croissants, pain et strong coffee.  Roscoff is a pretty little place not that we were able to appreciate its finer points as along with other bleary-eyed Brits we wandered up and down its quaint streets in what must have resembled a scene from Zombies En Vacances!

The first thing you notice about France is how stylish & well made everything seems although I wondered if the toilets would still leave a lot to be desired and whether Canard de toilette had made it across the channel.  I was very tempted to carry around one of the cloths  that I’d packed away in the boot but I resisted the urge and did all the sensible desensitising things that my counsellor suggested.

Market Day in the Mediaeval Town of Morlaix

We had a stop off at Morlaix for lunch with its fine Mediaeval Square and bustling market.  Its heritage was somewhat lost on my teenage boys who do not see the point of anything unless it can be turned into un jeux de computer and virtually blasted off the face of the earth.  They also seemed to have conveniently forgotten every scrap of French they ever knew and this trip was after all intended to help Julian with his French conversation retake.

Guy lit le Figaro

When we arrived at our lovely gite – a converted pigsty and were greeted by the lovely owners, Marie & Jean-Paul.  We nodded intelligently as they explained en Francais about how to reset the trip switch if they were out.  James & Julian took great interest in Therese (seize ans), the gite owners’ daughter.  It was quite remarkable how every noun, conjugation and past participle they had ever learned at school was suddenly brought to mind.   But I think they both felt rather intimidated by her brother Claude (dix-neuf ans), nonchalant, sporting a baseball cap, a Gauloise & driving a red Citroen Saxo.

Guy & I fully intend to throw ourselves into French culture this week.  Guy has bought Le Figaro and looks quite knowledgeable when he scans the ‘economie’ pages.  I have been watching French TV and really enjoyed Un Tresor dans Votre Maison which is the French version of Cash in the Attic except it’s all in euros.  But I’ve brought some DVDs of the first series of Morse just in case.

A bientot.