I predict a diet.

Some of you may recall in my previous blog entitled 'the moonshine diet’, which since moving to Spain my weight has crept up & up. I am very much in denial and still believe myself to be a size 10, a skinny thing who many people still consider to be on the verge of anorexia. Sadly, the mirror and weighing scales tell me different.

Time for a massive reality check, so diet & exercise it has to be. Trouble is I don't really know where to start, so much is written about the Mediterranean diet, but to be perfectly honest, most of the Spanish women I have seen are rather on the plump side. It's rather baffling really as the Spanish girls are skinny up to been about 28 then you don't seem to see them until the resurface  at aged 50 plump breasted and fat bottomed. I have often found it odd when the shops and market stalls sell clothes that are clearly designed with olive oil in mind, when really it should have been Hattie Jacques! Well obviously someone must buy them sadly I am not one of them, more’s the pity.

So I have decided to keep it fresh, as much fresh & natural food as I can find, plenty of fruit & vegetables, and the Spanish people's favourite food 'fish' We will see if that works.


I have also bought myself an Xbox 360 with kinnect, which is amazing, well it was once I managed to turn it on and get it working, which I managed together with the invaluable assistance of my 4 year old granddaughter, without whose inbuilt child’s technical ability which all adults loose past the age of 24, I think the thing would have been on the compost heap.

It is amazing though, I bought the Zumba dancing DVD, which brought back memories of Peter Gordeno, and his amazing Latin dance moves, not easy to master but a craze that is soaring the country. I also bought the 'your shape' DVD which is facsinating, the kinnect sensor scans your body and you begin the exercises from there. I did the simple workout for beginners, and as me & exercise seem to be from opposite planets, I had to sit down after 15 minutes, still I am determined this time to stick with it, I will keep you informed, of when I can rush to the market to buy myself those much wanted 'skinny clothes'.

Insects & Reptiles.

                                                        Spanish Centipede or  "escolopendra".


The weather here in Spain is certainly heating up, 35-40 degrees, which is lovely unless you want to do anything energetic, which in constant heat is almost impossible.I am not complaining, but the heat does bring with it some unwanted creatures, who are themselves trying to get out of the heat for shelter.

One of the insects here in Spain that I really dislike the most is the 'escolopendra' or Spanish centipede.I have good reason for disliking them, as a few years ago,  not too long after we had bought the house and back in the days when we were very naive about life in the campo, and the creatures we shared our land with, we would often leave all the doors wide open, we had no idea that we needed mosquito netting on the windows, or that you should not walk around barefoot, we have  learned, the hard way unfortunately, these are a couple of things that have happened to hubby and me, and still make me cringe today.

Hubby & I were in bed  one night , the windows were wide open letting in some much needed air, the weather in July was very intense, and as we had only bought the house a month ago, we were not used to it, and trying to adjust to 40 degree heat at eleven o'clock at night took some adjusting to. I was woken up feeling a tickle on my chest, I was tired so did not really think much about it, then to my horror I felt something crawl across my left breast it felt like it was big with lots of tiny feet, it was awful and I could not help letting out a scream , which only made it worse as I could then feel sharp pincers biting into my flesh. Hubby woke up startled. 'Ive been bitten 'I said horrified , by this time the 'creature' had disappeared, a small red scar was beginning to develop on my boob, and it hurt and looked sore. 'well I can't find anything' hubby said,  moving the pillows and bedsheets , finding one of the plastic tags you get on new clothes, 'that's all it was' he said, I was not convinced, suddenly we both heard a scratching sound on the headboard, 'bloody hell' hubby said, not having seen  a centipede before, I dare not look, thinking I would be deformed, as my boob was now swelling up rapidly, 'Shall I get it to bite the other side now then you will be like Jordan', very funny I said not amused at my husbands, untimely sense of humour. Hubby managed to catch it and disposed of it humanely, well to be perfectly honest , he drowned it in the bath which was fine by me.

These horrid creatures are common here in Spain, and are not as dangerous as some of the other Scolopendra cingulata centipedes in the world, they are black & yellow in colour and can grow up to 9 centimetres long, the one that bit me, was approx 7 centimeters long, but you should be  aware as its sting is potent and painful. It injects its poison with its front feelers.it lives in sheltered, stony ground where it burrows ( not normally in peoples bedrooms), it is nnocturnal in habit. I often see them under plant pots, as they seem to like damp dark places.

Next time I will tell you the story of my hubby & the scorpion, but in the meantime, don't forget, shut the doors, put netting on your windows, and wear shoes at all times you don't know what you may stand on, oh and don't forget to shake your shoes first as you don't know just what may have crept inside them, but that's another story.

Happy Holiday

Well since the beginning of the year, I have done the rotational baby-sitting stint. Which for me means, going to the U.K to collect one child, taking said chosen child home to Spain, then returning to the U.K with aforementioned child and collecting another lucky smaller family member


Tiring, is not the word and I have definitely come to the conclusion that I am definitely getting too old for it all. It’s not just the air-travel, or wondering if the child will throw up all over someone on the plane, or attempt to knock the passenger in front out cold, with the ridiculous sized toblerone they insisted in buying in duty free


It’s the getting to the airport, usually via train, which is a mammoth task in itself, with a small child, two 10 kilo bags of hand luggage, sweets & sandwiches. Then the customary changes of trains and the krypton factor type task of finding the correct platform in Leeds station, not to mention finding the right train. I am worn out before I even start


 At the airport I am not usually too bad. Once I have got rid of the suitcase and paid the now seems compulsory excess baggage fee, after cursing Michael O’Leary, a couple of times, as if it’s his fault that my baggage was 1 kilo over, just because said child could not possibly be parted from Barbie & Ken, and had insisted squeezing them into the suitcase, together with the endless wardrobes, the plastic superstars needed for a couple of weeks away


I just want to get into departures and try figure out which the gate number will be, so I can get to the front of the queue, to be assured of a decent seat on the plane, not to mention the weight lifting exercise to squeeze the ‘hand luggage’ into the overhead cupboard.


At security its shoes off time, then try struggle with one hand to steer the said child in the right direction, whilst trying to squeeze the handbag into the already bulging case, without attracting too much attention, which is almost impossible as I am holding my jeans up at the same time. Bleep!! The child bleeps, coins in the pocket, always my downfall. Eventually we are through. I breathe almost there.


This time I have my two year old grandson with me, who everyone informs me, with a hidden spiteful glee, is a ‘handful’. My son says, ’watch him on the plane mum, he will throw things at the people in front, ‘He bloody well will not’, is my curt response.


‘He will scream informed my daughter his mother’, take plenty of nappies, he always has an accident. Great I thought happy holidays.


What really gets me is the fact that our children, seem to forget that hubby & I have spent the last 30 years bringing them up, which was not an easy task, and quite frankly a miracle my sanity survived, let alone them. Very short memories it seems


So why they should now  assume  ,that we would suffer some sort of amnesia whilst bringing a two year old from A to B is quite amusing, Perhaps they think we will  forget which end the nappy goes on? Or feed him Vindaloo? Or forget to ensure that he watches big cook little cook, and not let him loose on naughty Nigella, which in all honesty I am sure he would prefer, God forbid he will miss his bed time, or be in the same room, as half a can of San Miguel. I am sure they have memorised the child- line number for him to recite in case granny & Granddad have funny turns!


We had a good flight, he loved looking out of the window at the fluffy clouds, and seeing the houses out of the window, he ate his sandwich, was as good as gold, and the people in front were not decapitated, or abused in any shape or form.


This child came with a list of dos and don'ts,my hubby and I glanced at it, then threw it away, We were to busy watching Nigella, and drinking a much needed can of San Miguel, what’s next oh yes the Vindaloo, come on son try this.



Noooooooooo he cried, mummy said to ring this number




He He.

Car Booting.

Like many other people in Spain we are feeling the pinch. The ever decreasing exchange rate has had a tremendous impact on our finances,together with  the rise in petrol, food, utility bills etc,so we decided to do a car boot sale.

It will be fun I said,  hubby was not convinced. Still I  thought it would be good to get rid of some unwanted items, liberating I thought.When you start to look around your house, it is quite amazing,just how many things, you no longer use, or no longer wear. There was the  leather jacket, that my hubby's ex wife had given me, that was definitely going. The spare microwave, collecting dust in the garage. The clothes that no longer fit me;or for that matter hubby's clothes that he can no longer squeeze into. The endless books that were taking over the house, although I do love my books so much, still I thought , I could always buy them again, probably at a car boot sale.

We were pretty organised, hubby had made a table, we had a cloth, change,alarm set and sandwiches made. How exciting I thought.

We were awake at 6.45 and on our way to Albox , shortly after. Albox is an area of Almeria, not too far from where we live, popular with many British people, and very popular with lots of car boot fanatics. We arrived  at about 7.15, and it was already busy. As soon as we parked up, we were surrounded by other stall holders, 'what you got in there then', shining their torches in the car, 'any jewellery said one hardy car booter,' is this the first time you have done this', one asked trying her hardest to shine her torch into the back of the car. 'Have you got some good things’? By this time my patience was wearing thin. 'We think so’, I replied curtly.


By the time we  finally managed to sort the stall out,  a few other stall holders who were obviously regulars arrived. I was shocked at the behaviour of some of them, especially with the Moroccan people; one stall holder actually had a stick, especially to rap the knuckles of any of the Moroccan’s dared to get inside their car. 'Watch 'em Mary, one of 'em talks to you, whilst the other one robs you', I heard one chap say to his wife, 'watch the bloody money, you know what they're like', racist English people, never!

We were quite surprised just how tyring it was, my legs were aching, still we enjoyed it, made 125, 00 Euros, and more to the point, managed to get rid of some unwanted clutter, so all in all it was a good day, and definitely a good experience...

The Moonshine Diet

I still find it hard to believe that it is in fact me on the scales, I am weighing in like some middle weight boxer, I am kidding myself, convinced that one of the kids must have altered the scales, when weighing their suitcases, for their return journey’s home. It doesn’t seem all that long ago that my colleagues, and friends thought I was anorexic, I was that thin, I even used to buy that ‘weight on ‘powder, that I mixed with milk, in an effort to gain weight, Oh if only that was the case now. I do blame the weight increase, on the fact that I had a hysterectomy at the age of 32, which confused my body, and plunged me straight into the change at such an early age. Well that is my theory.

Now that we are both in our fifties, it really is time to do something about it, hubby agreed, so we decided we would buy a couple of bikes. I remembered when I was a girl, I loved my bike, and I was never off it, so it should not be that hard to get started again surely.

How wrong I was, It amazed me just how hard I found it, the gears were like kryptonite in my hands, I just could not get the hang of them, there were never all these gears on a bike when I was a kid, slipping everywhere they were, sounding like they had been set up for an episode of Robot Wars, the saddle felt very uncomfortable, I think normal walking, would be a problem for a while, let alone anything else.

The sun was shining, so we decided to take the plunge, and make a start, so off we went on our new bikes, on a four mile round trip, around the village, with no water, not a good idea. It was not intentional; I really did not think it would take very long; after all it only took fifteen minutes in the car.

My sense of direction has never been good, it had taken me a while to register, which side of the road to drive on in Spain. I started off quite well, I was pleased with myself, even coming to grips with the gears, I was a little scared of falling off into the road, in the path of oncoming traffic, I must admit I did keep venturing towards the centre of the road, and did get piped at a couple of times, still I managed to stay calm, and kept peddling.

I was doing really well and my confidence, well and truly boosted, until I started peddling up the last steep hill, I made the mistake, of getting off the bike, for a bit of a break, and that was it, I felt faint, one of the most horrible feelings in the world. I just wanted to leave the bike in the middle of the road, and lie down. Fortunately, we were not far from my Spanish friends house, and they were outside, ‘Oh thank goodness’ I thought, Aqua Aqua, I said limply, they laughed ushering us into their homely kitchen, where they calmly sat us down, after a couple of glasses of water, and two oranges , taken straight off their tree, I felt much better.

 Then my wonderful neighbours, in true Spanish tradition, brought out a homemade cake, and a bottle of homemade 40%Moonshine, which was so strong, it would have knocked the spots off a leopard, at that point the diet, and renewed fitness regime went totally out of the window, still the thought was there, I had made a start, and there’s always Manana.