Storytelling Sunday: The Ghost of Christmas past...

Home is where the heart is.
Christmas is all about family.
So why, almost a decade ago, I decided to spend my Christmas in Zimbabwe is beyond me.
Oh yes the adventure. Plus there was this boy...
Not many people can say they spent the week between Christmas and New Years white water rafting down the Zambezi can they?
Or that they rode barefeet on a motorcycle and got chased by rabid dogs.
The strange thing was that it was hot. 
Christmas day was spent playing tennis, swimming in the pool and having a BBQ as demonstrated in these never-quite-scrapped snapshots and my crude attempts at a scrapbook on a student budget.

No turkey, no Christmas jumpers and certainly no snow.
Although it was a great trip and I love travelling when it came to Christmas Day all I wanted was to be with my family.
It didn't feel as festive as the Africans don't really put decorations up or go into the whole Western style Father Christmas.
I was really looking forward to my phone call home and then the phone lines were playing up. It was really disappointing.
I did receive an e-mail where all of the family wrote me a special message and being the geeky scrapbooker I am, I still have it.
It contained details of all of the little quirks that make a Jones family Christmas:-

• Mom trying to open all of her presents early
• How dad has just fallen out of the top window trying to put the Christmas lights up (then a disclaimer that he had exaggerated this fact to spice the e-mail up)
• my little sister was wearing my older sister's engagement ring and pretending it was hers from her latest crush
• dad commenting that he was impressed I went white water rafting as even he hasn't done that - and he's done a lot
• my little sister doing her 'I'm so excited' Christmas Eve dance
• my older sister asking if there was any 'talent' in Zimbabwe
• dad doing a political rant about colonisation in Africa
• the sisters gearing up for the traditional fight over roast potatoes

This e-mail made me cry as it reminded me of all of the creature comforts and dynamics that I was missing out on.

However, I did get to spend a few precious days with my granny in Pretoria and also get to meet and get spoilt by my Uncle Theo and Auntie Lynne, including a trip to Sun City and lots of tasty meals out. 
I saw and touched a real live elephant. 
I went zooming round on a jet ski for the first time ever - a real adrenalin rush.

The trip home was not without its hiccups.
A Zimbabwean friend of ours had asked for me to bring back this sweet orange drink that he was craving called mazowe and for some bizarre reason I decided to put it in my hand luggage. Clearly there wasn't the limit on liquids back then.
Inevitably it exploded all over my bag and ruined the postcards and souvenirs that I was bringing home with me and was a tricky clean up job in a poky toilet cubicle on the lay over in Amsterdam.
As I landed at Heathrow I was feeling excited to be reunited with my family again. 
I walked through the arrivals gate and saw a group of people with a banner drawing lots of attention to themselves.
The lady next to me commented on how embarrassing it would be if they were your family.
I squinted in their direction (as I wasn't wearing my glasses or contacts) and, yep, you've guessed it - it was my family.
They had a banner which read on one side - 'Welcome home Mel!' and on the other 'Beware Ebola Virus' with skull and crossbones either side. 
Well apparently there had been an ebola outbreak in Zim when I was there and so they had hatched this plan to come to the airport in masks and this banner - luckily they ditched the masks.
Well I tried to steer my baggage trolley in the opposite direction and wanted the ground to swallow me up.
But this was what I had missed after all. 
My crazy family and their quirky sense of humour.
So I steered it back in their direction and it was hugs and kisses and giggles all around.

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I am sad that Storytelling Sunday is coming to an end, but just look at the X-Factor you can have too much of a good thing. I have enjoyed taking a trip down memory lane with you all and sharing your experiences, photos and precious'. Thanks Sian for inspiring this community of storytellers.

Storytelling Sunday: The one with all the birthdays...

Since today is my birthday (happy birthday me - sadly I am in bed as I seem to have caught a bug and was sick all night! Boo!) I spent some time this week going through the archives and reminiscing over birthdays past...

In our family we love birthdays and get really spoilt. My mom would place all our beautifully wrapped presents on a chair and then the whole family would come in and wake you up by singing 'Happy Birthday' (some more enthusiastically than others *cough* Alli *cough*) then you would open the mountain of presents.
We also always had really fun birthday parties and so here are some of the highlights:-

•  For my 8th birthday we went to Covent Garden - one of our favourite parts of London. My mom allowed me to invite four friends and so I took two sets of twins. The first set's mum was very cautious and they had emergency 10ps for the pay phone, the parents contact number's written down and clear instructions for what to do if they got lost. The second set had nothing. Guess who got lost? Emma from the second set. Looking back now my poor mother must have been terrified - luckily she had latched onto a group of French tourists and appeared a few shops later! 
• I wrote about it in my journal below and I particularly love some of my spellings - 'spaggeti' (spaghetti) 'mcandics' (mechanics) and of course 'samwthes' sandwiches. My sisters will probably comment that my spelling has not improved much since then...

• Also my 8th birthday was special as I got baptised by my dad - as we do when we are eight in my church. I remember being very excited and getting my hair crimped and getting all of our family and friends to sign my baptism book - another precious which I still have and a great record of the day. 

• For my 11th birthday I took a few friends to the 'Rock Island Diner' in London (do we see a pattern emerging here?) Luckily we didn't lose anybody. I remember that we got to sit in our booth and felt very grown up and that we could select songs on the juke box and so apparently we chose an Elvis song for my mom. Although I was always more of a Buddy Holly fan.

• For my 18th birthday we hired out a kiddy soft play area. I believe that we had to be slightly economical about the truth and when I tell this story I normally say it was 16th birthday, but having checked in my scrapbook I discovered it was my 18th. Well we're all big kids right? And it was a particularly cool one with a huge (and very scary) rainbow slide, a huge spiders web, an adult sized hamsters wheel and an enormous ball pond. Everyone loved it - despite perhaps initial skepticism. We ate at the ever classy Pizza Hut afterwards. I think I must have got an instax mini camera as the page is full of those cute little sticker pictures. Wish I still had it now - although I do recall the film was very pricey.

• Last, but certainly not least, memorable birthday was my 20th. In my second year on university I got to go on an exchange to Atlanta to attend The University of Georgia (UGA) and when I first arrived I didn't have a room mate. I had gone with another guy from course - Adie - and so I just used to hang around with him and his mates (all boys). I turned 20 shortly after arriving and was feeling a bit homesick and missing the rituals with my family so they promised me a big day out to cheer me up. We went to Six Flags a huge theme park like Alton Towers. I was very excited as I am quite a thrill seeker, however only once we arrived did Adie announce that he was scared of roller coasters and Alex announced he was scared of heights. Hmmm... So we ended up eating ice-cream and hot dogs, shelling out extra money to go on the go-karts and we went on all of the water rides.

• The second part of the surprise was a meal at this restaurant that they thought I would just love. It turned out to be Hooters. If you are not familiar it is a popular establishment with the male population as they serve great ribs, beer and the waitresses are all rather shapely and scantily clad in tacky, shiny orange hot pants and tight fitting t.shirts. Now as a tee total, hetrosexual, veggie this was not really my 'cup of tea' and as the boys insisted I take plenty of photos of them and the waitress' I began to suspect this 'treat' wasn't really just for me! I had a grilled cheese and a rootbeer and declined their kind invitation for a Hooters t.shirt. 

• The funniest part of all was that when I took the picture below I got a classic shot straight afterwards of my friend of the left turning to the waitress and saying 'don't I know you from somewhere?' Turns out that they had gone to primary school together. Bet when the teacher asked what she wanted to be when she grew up Hooter's girl was not top of her list! 

• It goes without saying that the very next day I made a more concerted effort to get to know the other girls in halls and started to enjoy girls nights out instead. Being one of the boys did seem to have its limitations! But I guess turning 20 in Hooters is a story to tell!

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Linking up with the wonderful Sian over at From High in the Sky pay her a visit to read more interesting stories
Don't forget to check out my new series starting tomorrow - Mini Memory Mondays with ideas for using journalling cards and tags in 8.5 by 11 and mini albums

Storytelling Sunday: Confused(baby).com

Grandson delivered
Change of clothes not provided

Granddaughter picked up

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Linking up with Sian at High in the Sky.

Meeting her request for a succinct story by writing in the style of a Japanese haiku poem.

Scrapbooking layout to follow if nap time, nappy changes and feeding schedule allows!

Storytelling Sunday: Precious little bundle

In case your not a regular reader and missed out on the birth announcement - check out this post here.
He was 15 days overdue and it was seriously beginning to feel like he was never coming.
We'd waited to find out what we were having, but the doctor said she would put her mortgage on the fact it was a boy.
Perhaps because boys are lazy? Or maybe statistically they are more likely to be born overdue?
So my precious - other than our little bundle of joy and all of the gorgeous pictures of him - are the little things which I plan to keep in a box for him.
So far we have...

1) The card from his cot in the hospital. I love that it is blue and that it has some of the key facts from his birth day on it.

 

2) The little tag that was round his ankle to show that he is all mine! Doesn't he have long toes?

3) A Belgian tradition - the mother-in-law made these cute little boxes for us to give to guests when they come to visit the baby. They are filled with chocolate covered almonds. I am definitely keeping one for the baby's keepsake box.

 4) And lastly his first little hat, which says, "Hello World!"

I am sure that he will enjoy looking at these bits and pieces as he grows older and we can tell him all of the stories attached to the objects and about all the lovely midwives and how in love everyone was with him at the hospital!

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Linking up with the lovely Sian over at From High in the Sky

Pick your precious: we all scream for ice-cream!

On a scorching day like today...

Being heavily pregnant...

It seems only too right to follow Sian's advice...

Keep it short, but sweet...

With an ode to ice-cream!

Precious Pictures...

Since storytelling Sunday is all about stories gather round, get comfy and listen...

My favourite classes to teach at school are often the smaller groups.
The nurture groups.
The ones who are not reaching for the stars academically.
And often don't have many (if any) positive role models in their lives.
Why do I like teaching these groups so much?
They have heart.
You get to know them a lot better as there are less of them.
You have to show them you care or you lose them.
So you use little quizzes (they love my Friday celebrity quizzes), sometimes treats and mostly anecdotes to win them round.
So last week we were studying a poem about a hurricane.
I asked what they would save from their houses in a natural disaster.
First answer,
"my computer games miss."
"Hmm nice try, but I honestly don't think most people would care about plasma screens and play stations - they can be replaced."
"My family then."
"My mum," chipped in the Burly Boy.
"I said it had to be a possession - an object." I reminded them.
"Money?" Cheeky One tentatively put forward.
"No," Trendy Boy interrupted knowingly. "Insurance will cover this."
"Photo's then, memories?" Suggests the only girl in the group.
"Bingo," I smiled.

So my 'precious' this month are the baby books I have made for The Belgian.

My mum did fill in a baby book for me and this is precious and I love to read the funny stories about my first birthday and first Christmas (where apparently all I was interested in was the selection box - no changes there then!) But there were lots of pics still to be scrapped and I had a mini album to fill.

I asked the in-laws for some pics of The Mini Belgian and I scrapped them in a little book - which is the only scrapbook I have ever made which he will proudly show to any visitors. When we entertain little kids too they love to look through it.
Also a scrapbook I made from my youth - more info and pictures of which can be found in this post.

These are all photo's that are irreplaceable.
In the days before digital.
These photos and albums are definitely very precious.

Storytelling Sunday: Pick your Precious!

When we were first married we were visiting an American friend of ours living at the nearby base. It was December and they had a massive tree full of all sorts of muli-coloured and shaped ornaments. Some of which my mother would have deemed 'tacky.' I grew up in a house that had colour co-ordinated trees - a new theme and colour scheme each year. But as my American friend and her kids pointed out their favourite ornaments on the tree I began to see the appeal: each of these treasures told a story.
A family holiday to Disneyland.
Grandma Ruth's first bauble.
A skiing trip to Whistler.
I wanted our tree to tell a similar story.
And so (even though Christmas is over for another year and I spent an hour yesterday wrapping them all up in tissue) my precious is our growing collection of Christmas tree decorations - each with their own story.

 We painted these gingerbread men on our Three Year Anniversary trip to Howarth last July. My regular followers will be aware that my husband is a very loyal Club Brugge supporter. Not very festive, but hey ho...

 Next up is our personal fav - a camper van from California. Two summer's ago we spent an amazing three weeks road tripping round California. Now it wasn't quite in a camper van, but we picked this up in a store in Julian all the same.

Lastly another of my favs. Can you guess where we got this? I like that it has the the spiritual side of Christmas as although we are not Catholic - we definitely celebrate the true meaning of Christmas.

We weren't even going to get a tree this year - as we were away visiting for most of the holidays, but then I found my bag of treasures and knew that we could not resist the trip down memory lane. Every year we build up a few more and I can see it becoming a favourite family tradition.

Linking up with the lovely Sian over at From High in the Sky. A great new idea for the new year...feel free to pick your precious and join us. It's a bit like show and tell!

Storytelling Sunday: The one with the drunken monkey...

 Picture a dark night in January. In Leeds. The student bit - Hyde Park. One minute you are walking home from a social event chatting away to your housemate. Next minute you are on the side of the pavement wondering how you got there and what happened. The undercover policeman who just happened to be there fills you in that you were hit by the front of a car and flew five feet into the air and landed on your head.
My housemate, Cal, was busy wiping my blood on her jeans as she knew that I hated blood. I got rushes to A&E and they glued my head back together. I was due to start my second teaching practice and had to postpone it a week, whilst I got myself back together.
The above and below pics were the sight that greeted me when I got back from going to my family home for a few days. This monkey is my travelling monkey and has been everywhere with me including my symester studying in America. I thought that it was hilarious and made me feel like everyone cared about me.
The placard reads: Bad accident don't wanna talk about it!
The other special thing about these pictures is the hand knitted rug that was made by my South African gran. The sad things is that I no longer have it as at a picnic is was put into the wrong car and i never saw it again. So I am reminded of the kindness of my gran too.
Here I am looking a bit worse for wear holding the flowers from my mom:

Well I knew that it would make a great story one day. Even if it was a bit scary at the time!
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                      Linking up with the lovely Sian at High in the Sky for Storytelling Sunday

Storytelling Sunday: The one where we lost the car park...

What does this fluffy peach layout have to do with a dark and stormy night I hear you say?
Well this layout represents the fluff that came before the storm.
Fluff like girly shopping, consuming the cutest cupcakes with rock star names and then seeing a cheesy boyband sing their best hits at M.E.N.
Fluff that I was so excited at participating in that I neglected to pay attention to where we had parked our car.
It seemed to be in a random car park that was at the opposite end of a long road leading to the arena.
So surely if we just followed that road we would get to the car park?
In the dark it seemed someone had moved that road.
Or the car park.
Or both.
It was approaching midnight.
A storm might be a push, but it was certainly drizzly.
And very scary.
We stopped into a take-away to ask for directions (having not had much luck with the drunks on the street as it seemed a car park at the end of a long road wasn't enough to go on!)
We got chips.
He still couldn't help us though.
Then his South African friend said he had a feeling that he knew where it was and it was just up the road and that he would take us.
Hmm..I felt a bit hesitant about following a stranger into the dark.
The guy behind the counter confirmed 'he's alright' so off we went hesitantly.
We walked a few blocks into the darkness.
I had my phone ready in my pocket.
We found some railway arches, a car park and my little Ford KA.
I had never been so happy to see my car before.
The guy then offered to get into the car with us and direct us out to Leeds.
Vulnerable but not stupid - we said we'd use sat nav but thanks very much.
An hour later I was home in bed.
But a valuable lesson was learnt and now I ALWAYS note down the address or level of the car park.
Has anyone else every lost their car?
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Linking up with the lovely Sian From High in the Sky

The One Where I Jumped off a Cliff...(Metaphorically like!)

My friends and I at St.George's secondary school

 Don't you love telling stories and reminiscing?
This summer I got to hang out with my family and an aunt who I hadn't seen for decades nor ever really spoken to and so we loved telling stories and learning about each other.
So this month Sian's theme is too cool for school and it made me think of this random story...
Are we sitting comfortably? I will begin...

Throughout Primary and Secondary school I was friends with two sets of twins, I think it is true to say that you can tell which twin is oldest and youngest by their personalities and one is always the 'crazy' one. Naturally, being me, I was drawn to the crazier one in both sets of twins.
Which brings me to my story...
Kim (one of the twins) was quite mischievous and it seems that whenever we are together we end up causing some kind of trouble. We were in the same class together in Year 4, which makes us about 8 at the time of this little episode. We were lined up waiting for lunch.

Those who know me now will know two things about me:
1) I am criminally impatient
2) I love my food

As this story will attest neither of the above have changed much since I was little.
We were getting antsy as it was chips day and we wanted some. We had a rule at our school that you had to queue up outside of your classroom and the dinner lady would come and collect you for your sitting of lunch.
So Kim dared me to shout - "come on Aldren!"
Now MRS Aldren was the fiercest of all of the dinner ladies. She was HEAD dinner lady. She was a scarier version of Mrs Bucket from the popular UK comedy Keeping up Appearances.  She valued good old fashioned manners - like please and thank-you and waiting your turn.
This was a very risky dare.
This dare came with terrible consequences.
Therefore it was too tempting and I went ahead and hollered - "COME ON ALDREN!" Just as she rounded the classroom corner and I was caught red faced, in the very act of addressing the HEAD dinner lady rather rudely. I hadn't even said *PLEASE*!
Now my memory at this point goes hazy and it ends up with me sat in tears at the deputy head's table with my plate of fish and chips in front of me and a lot of explaining to do.
He asked the silly question of why I had done it.
Through snot and tears I stammered,
"Because K-k-k-kim told me to."
"Now Melanie if Kim asked you to put your chips in that bin over there would you?"
"N-n-n-oooo!" I was horrified at the suggestion.
"Why not?" Cue smug teacher face.
"Because I like chips!"
Such simple childlike logic.

I do remember that Kim was getting a similar grilling and had to write a letter apologising, which went like this:

Dear Mrs Aldren,

I'm really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really sorry.

Love,
Kimberley

Methinks the lady doth protest too much.

Here is a picture of us taken earlier this year - I have clearly now forgiven here for leading me astray!

Linking up to Sian's storytelling Sunday

Storytelling Sunday: The one about Hester the Hoarder!

Sian's story over on her blog for Storytelling Sunday made me think of a girl I used to know (well actually I still do, but it sounded better in the past tense...) and who I used to rent a little hovel with in Leeds when I moved up to do my teacher training at Leeds Uni. We used to called her Hester Wildchild, as this was her teenage nickname and I believe that there was even a fan club in her honour, but one thing is for sure there was never a dull moment with her around!
She was, however, a huge hoarder. She also had the smallest little box room in our house and it was always spilling with all her shoes and clothes - she had a bit of a shopping habit and worked in the town centre and would often return laden with bags full of treasures! She liked to keep lots of memorablilia and not scrappable stuff like napkins or leaflets - big things for her small room.
So when she came home from the cinema one night with a life sized cardboard cutout of Ben and Jerry's we thought that it was a big joke and she would get rid of it. However when we went into her room to sing into our hairbrushes along with Whitney we would have to contort ourselves around this sign. Plus when she came to move a year on the sign went with her - rather than onto the rubbish heap which is where I would have put it! It was similar to the one pictured below - I seem to have a few pictureless years when I didn't have a camera clamped to my hand the whole time and this was that time. I guess I was too busy having fun!

The second 'little' momento she aquired during this year was a temporary bus stop - similar to the one below but more red and slightly smaller but a lot heavier. It was the heaviest thing you have ever picked up. Although we were in our twenties we were no longer students and you know stealing road signs is a student type thing to do...but she seemed to *find* this on a night out. It became her jewellery stand and again when it came to moving day a year on she could not be parted with this item of memorabilia.

Whilst living with her we both met the men we were to marry. She kept many interesting items from their dates - including the empty Ben and Jerry's tub from the first tub they shared together. I think if she was to be a scrapbooker she would have produced very chunky albums and I think her husband is as bemused by the random clutter as we all were.
But I did help her move into her new marital home and was glad to help her load a very heavy item off the removal truck. Yep you guessed it. The bus stop. Well where would she keep her jewellery otherwise...?

Storytelling Sunday: The One with grumpy Jubilee guards!

So we had the chance to be in the capital for the Queen's jubilee - almost by accident as my husband (The Belgian) was had tickets for the game at Wembley on Saturday night.
Saturday day time we headed to our fav haunt Westfield in Stratford and got to decorate cakes for free in Lakeland and hung out with the Olympic mascot.

So on the Sunday it seemed only natural that we would head to the Thames to check out the floatilla. Hmmm...I think it needed some better planning and certainly an earlier start. We had got some flags and then OK magazine was giving away free ones - so we were very patriotic looking. Although by no means the most Union Jacked up!

 And this was our amazing view...we couldn't see a thing!

However we noticed a fairly stable looking fence behind some wheely bins and decided to climb on and get a better view. But you know what sheep we all are and everyone started following our 'example' and the fence was beginning to get a little wobbly. A steward came over and muttered about 'health and safety' and we all ignored him. He sent over two rather timid police officers who compromised that we could sit on the bins, but not on the fence. We stayed on the fence - safety in numbers and all and we had now been stationed here for about thirty mins. They then sent the heavies over - a whole selection of burly stewards and police men. We reluctantly moved off - not before the Belgian complained about how they were changing their minds and how dare his colleagues say one thing and then change their minds. He was told very firmly - "we have every right to change our minds." So there! Here Mara is showing how she feels about those killjoys.

We still tried to have fun and the Belgian even got remotely patriotic!

But then slowly, but surely, as the procession got ever closer people started not only to climb on the bins, but also the fence and then sit on the flat roof - shock horror! We enjoyed watching as the power of the people outwighed the power of the police - I can see how the riots happened so easily. We stayed out of it but Mara did climb back onto a bin to try and get a few snaps - that is what we came for after all!

I think you can see in this pic the tail end of a boat! And below is the closest we came to HRM! It was all about the atmosphere I argued and we sure had a good story to tell about our Jubilee.

Linking up with Sian's storytelling Sunday

The one about camping in Carnac...

I am linking up with Sian's storytelling Sunday - if you want to join in just link up to her post. 

We were very lucky growing up in that every summer we packed up our car and headed off to France for a week or so on holidays. One of the most exciting parts of the trip was waking up at the crack of dawn to catch the ferry - somehow as a child this made it a real adventure for me. Looking back camping couldn't have been the biggest rest for my mom but we loved it. The camp sites always had pools and adventure playgrounds and so we could have all sorts of water slide fun.

On a recent visit to my parents I was robbing my mom's photo collection as I wanted to start documenting some of these stories. In fact my mom has decided to start recording her life story - is this what happens when one if over 60? I find it a bit morbid - but I guess it's where I get my love of journalling and recording memories from! So I found a slightly blurry but very cute picture of us all on one of the most memorable trips.

The one where my granny and grandad from South Africa came. I had met my granny a few times but aged 8(ish) we got to go on holiday with my grandad and meet him for the first time.

Some memories of this trip:

• My grandad was a big Margaret Thatcher fan and would often discuss politics - which always went over our heads!
• We loved playing cards in the evening and my grandad taught me how to play rummy
• My grandparents couldn't get the hang of using 'francs' and so would just hold out a hand full of change to the shop keepers
• The tide went out one day and so we filled out buckets with cockles. My granny was most annoyed as a French lady was trying to give her a pate recipe - but she couldn't understand a word of it! I am not the biggest seafood fan, but I got carried away in the moment and was ill the next day.
• One of the funniest moments was when my grandad went down the fast water slide for kids and got stuck halfway down and these little French boys went down after him and just climbed over him and carried on leaving him lodged in.
• We travelled in our old school white Mercedes Benz - you know the one with the seats in the back? The thing that always baffles me is that on this trip there was four adults, four children and lots of luggage, tents etc and yet we travelled in just this ONE car. I do remember that one of us got to lay across the luggage in the back and this was the most coveted seat in the house. I guess it was pre-health and safety and some of us were quite little!

Now onto the layout. I am not entirely happy with it. I think I just threw everything at it and hoped for the best, but looking at the finished product I may start all over again. But since I told the story I will share it for now....

I am having some technical issues - so I will just post this for now. 

What is one of your favourite childhood memories?

A treat from the Carmel bakery...

So on the return leg of our California trip we stopped off in Carmel for the day. It was an overcast day and so our beach pics were not as stunning as we'd hoped. We wondered all round, along the beach and enjoyed using the self-timer on our camera to get a few 'group' shots.
We stopped off at an exclusive looking bakery. My husband said he didn't really want anything and so he waited outside with our stuff. My sister and I were licking our lips and chose some tasty pastries and cakes for ourselves. At the counter a bowl of colourful gingerbread biscuits caught my eye and so I requested one for my 'husband' who was waiting outside. A very camp shop assistant informed me that unless I was married to a dog they wouldn't be appropriate. My sister and I couldn't stop laughing at the thought that we had almost brought a dog biscuit for Arne! I expressed my surprise that people would actually buy biscuits for their dogs and he shrugged his shoulders and said,
"Welcome to Carmel!"

So I have used a sketch from an old copy of Creating Keepsakes to make this 'epic' double layout. It took me months to complete it and to make sure it was all balanced. I used stickers and lots of punched out butterflies to embellish the layout and give both sides unity.

Would any of you buy a biscuit for your dog from the bakery?

Linking up to Sian's fantastic storytelling Sunday.

Storytelling Sunday: The One with A Bake-a-Date!

So being a Latter Day Saint means there is a strong dating culture as they always want to get everyone married off nice and young. So when I moved to Leeds one of the activities they used to put on at Valentines was bake-a-date. Single guys and gals had to bake a cake anonymously and then the girls cakes would go first and guys would have to bid on them and then whatever they bid for the cake they had to take the girl for a date costing that much. They also got to eat the cake.

Things would get crazy out of hand and some 'cakes' went for as much as £80. Inevitably some fixing would go on and if you already liked someone you'd find out from their friends what they baked etc. As a rule guys would try to go for the less impressive cakes as they felt attractive girls wouldn't have time to bake (little did they know! I wasn't a baker in those days and just brought a co-op chocolate fudge one as pictured above!!)

So the funny experience was that this quite geeky guy (who from now I shall refer to as The Geek) brought my cake and so I wasn't that impressed. It wasn't the guy (who I will now call The Player) I was hoping and in the week leading up the dreaded date with The Geek, The Player who I liked asked me out. Eeek! So we started 'seeing' each other and I still had to go on the dreaded date.
The Geek took me to the theatre (score) and even brought me some chocolates and a rose (score) I wasn't such a nice person back then and kept escaping to text The Player (who of course was an idiot and not the one and he would NEVER have brought me chocolates or a rose!)  I even met up with The Player afterwards and we scoffed the chocolates from The Geek. 

A week later The Geek saw me out with The Player and he didn't seem very impressed (understandably so).

But a year later I baked again (I had seen the light and ended it with the player) and I had my eye on a very tasty Belgian and he also had his eye on me. My girls tried to help out by informing him none too subtley, but they were a bit trigger happy and so he ended up having quite an awkward date with another girl and a week later we had our first official date at the cinema. We even got told off halfway through for talking too much. Now we're the couple that tuts at people like that - I mean why go and see a film just to talk the whole way through!?

So it all worked out in the end!