In what world is it fair that I have my second cold in two weeks? And both have been absolute rotters. Yes yes, worse things happen at sea, I know that. But I don't deal with colds well. I want to be able breathe, I miss it. It's a breach of my human rights and I may have to write a strongly worded letter to.... someone. Anyone.
Coinciding with the cold of doom is the fact I have been volunteered (ha!) by my Mother to paint scenery for the local church's pantomime. Which starts on Saturday. This Saturday. Thanks for that, Mum. This is merely the latest in a long line of creative projects that she's roped me into, kicking and screaming. Behold my handiwork....
Stupidly big seahorse - July 2007
Mr Bumble - July 2008
My mother, you see, is a member of the WI. The WI have a large tent each year at the Cheshire Show. In this tent they have competitions. Best cake, biggest marrow, most magnificent plums... you get the idea. Each year they decorate the tent under a different theme. And then I get volunteered to make an animal to represent that theme for my Mum's Institute (Womens', not mental. Just to clarify).
Why me I hear you ask. Simple. I live rent free. This is my penance. I pay with art. And my soul.
So I have been in a freezing cold church hall since 8 this morning painting 'Ye Olde Gingerbreade Shoppe' and some barrels. Amongst other delights. Pictures to follow, if I don't die of the common cold. There's always a first time.
My life = FAIL.
