I have never...heckled

I'm pretty sure I've never heckled a comedian before. I've definitely sat there in the row watching and thinking I have something pertinent and amusing to shout out. But my mouth always let me down and leaves me with a rush of adrenalin that is neither use not ornament. Ornamental adrenalin...Good name for an album.

Anyway I finally got to see Mark Watson tonight and I cried. Not in a depressed way, but in a mascara running, body crumpling, can't catch your breath giggly sort of a way. Which I certainly haven't done lately and after the day I've had today I rather needed. It was the re-enactment that tipped me over the edge - to tell you any more would spoil it. I could feel his awkwardness and pain in a scene so full of comedy I lost it somewhat. Children's TV has a lot to answer for.

This is why I can't write reviews. The only way to do it justice is to sum up what happened. But that seems unfair to someone who had a genuinely brilliant idea (and frankly he would admit a bit of a breakdown) and brought it to life. So I won't. You can buy a ticket.

Anyway before tonight I had never heckled. I felt like I needed to. I wanted to be part of this hilarious night god dammit. So what piece of pithy comedic wisdom did I shout out for my first foray into heckling?

Oh I named a village in Lincolnshire, nearly loudly enough for him to hear. I was then laughing so hard (at the word "Pinchbeck" and someone mentioning Spalding) that I wasn't concentrating when Mark asked for it to be repeated. So Paul answered him and he used it to raise a laugh. It could have gone worse but it was hardly my finest hour. I'm not sure I'll be heckling again.

Mark Watson though. Proper funny.

I have never... been to The Great Gatsby

I've realised upon writing this title that I've never actually read the Great Gatsby. Which could count I suppose for another week if I'm running out of ideas.

This is a Sheffield never have though and I had never been in the Great Gatsby (well I don't think I have but I was very drunk on Pub Scrawl the other year so may have blanked it out) and I've never seen the Jar Family. So last Friday I did both.

The Great Gatsby is a perfectly good pub on Division Street staffed largely by, what I now understand to be termed, Hipsters. They have tattoos, beards and quiffs. Well the men anyway. I often wonder whether by employing staff who ooze cool you are hoping that your clientele will follow suit. Bummer. We turned up. I'm about as close to being a hipster as I am at running a marathon and Paul simply cannot grow an acceptable level of facial hair for all that (as we learnt the hard way one Movember).

So we went, with lovely friends, none of whom could be classed as hipsters. We went upstairs to the tiny gig room and saw the Jar Family who were brilliant and weirdly completely free. I convinced myself I couldn't have been that drunk as I was clearly dancing in rhythm. Well I thought I was anyway. I was drunk. Quite drunk. But then I did just turn 39 and I was celebrating.

I have never... cycled to work for a whole week

Earlier this year I bought a bike. The express intention was to use it to cycle to work and as a result get fit, not spend money on petrol or parking, feel the wind in my hair (when I forget my helmet) and generally to feel smug and happy.

I have ridden my bicycle to work off and on. When I can be bothered, don't have a parcel to pick up, aren't in a hurry and the weather is not inclement. Yes I am that lazy.

During those periods I have encountered horrendous tarmac, pot holes the size of space hoppers, cyclists with a death wish and car drivers who are, for want of a better word, wankers. Not all car drivers of course, but far too many of them.

But never so far have I managed to ride my bike to work and back every day for a week. Today I achieved that feat. I also did it without being knocked off by a six year old (like three weeks ago) or having altercations with other road users. Well I may have shouted a few times and shaken my helmeted head a lot but not too bad I reckon.

So there you have it. I've done something I frankly thought was impossible. Now I'm off to pen a letter to the council about the cycle lanes which end at a wire fences, pot holes, parking violations over cycle paths and dangerous junctions. Which will achieve precisely nothing but you've got to try right?

In short, yay me.

I have never... seen Iron Sphincter. Yes Really.

A text appeared on my phone. My friend assumed that I had never seen a zombie band and asked if I's like to. I put aside the fact that I didn't know what a zombie band was and agreed - well it was tough to say no to. Not only was it due to be a gig in which the band performed as the undead, but the lead singer is the man who runs the bouncy castles at the park.

So what to wear to see a band called Iron Sphincter? I went with black. My zombie costume was at the dry cleaners.

We got there so early that we were the only people in the pink wipe clean PVC clad booth at Plug. Goodness only knows why they have refitted it like that, unless they are trying to compete for Spearmint Rhino's clientel. A couple of pints of crap lager and lots of chatting followed and I my zombie band virgin fears aside.

We watched a band called Das Chip Shop, who were somewhat bizarrely fantastic. I wasn't sure about the song with the miaowing but when the guitarist joined in on barking backing vocals I was sold.

The main act came on and I stood resolutely on the side balcony. This was due to the warning we'd had. There was due to be lots of fake blood. I'm enthusiastic about new things but not stupid. Can you imagine finding your small daughters still awake greeting you on your return home as you dripped with fake blood? It's the stuff of nightmares. It was a shame in retrospect because the blood cannon malfunctioned. There's a sentence I never thought I'd write.

On stage was a cage which I think held the famous pop musician that the zombie band then ate. Their essence was channelled by the zombies playing thrash versions of pop classics. I rather liked Ra Ra Rasputin by Boney M and the Clapping Song was a triumph.

As the zombies played their instruments men in crash helmets kept them in line by looking menacing with baseball bats. I wondered if they pleaded to be in the band despite having no musical ability and were subsequently given a Bez like role to keep them happy. All five of them. It certainly was crowded up there.

Te whole night was a real laugh and musically great, if totally bonkers. I was out with lovely people and chatted to other people I knew, one of whom I hadn't seen for ten years.

At the end my friend pointed out the drummer from Pulp who was clearly enjoying the zombie music. As he was smartly dressed, and the drummer from Pulp, she felt we should warn him about the fake blood. Which then of course didn't happen. He must have thought we were lunatics. On the upside I'd never warned a famous band member about being splashed with fake blood before so it ended up being a  triumphant evening on the new stuff front.

Overall it was a fantastic night with lovely people and oodles of new things to boot. The lesson here is don't turn stuff down thinking it sounds too weird for words. You might have the best night out in ages.

I have never... been on someone else's blind date

One of my best friends in the world texted me. Was I free on Sunday? Did I want to come with him on his blind date at Leeds Festival.

Erm, ok then. But seriously that's quite some blind date. I asked him if he'd not thought a coffee at an independent coffee shop would be a gentler start. Apparently not.

Before we even got into the festival we had to bribe a taxi driver to get us there, then queued for an hour and a half. I told him she better be bleedin worth it.

It's been a good few years since I've been to an unfamily friendly festival. It is safe to safe I felt about a hundred and two. I've never seen so many twenty one year olds in superhero outfits.

Since we were meeting by the waltzers at 6pm we consumed very expensive cocktails from paper cups quite quickly for courage. I felt about as nervous as he was. I mean "hi, I've never met you before but I'm your blind date's oldest female friend". Nothing odd in that is there?

When the lovely lady arrived she clearly had the same idea (safety in numbers) and had brought her brother with her. Of course in my role as supportive friend I let the blind daters get to know each other. Which meant I now know quite a bit about her brother. And him me, that is if he didn't glaze over.

I digress. The afternoon went on happily and remarkably well I thought, which may have been influenced by the cocktails. We watched Bombay Bicycle Club and all was hunky dory until I went to the loo. On returning the brother was nowhere to be seen and my friend and his new date were getting to know each other a little more amorously. Oh bugger. This was an unexpected turn of events.

I tried striding towards them. They didn't notice me and I did a last miute U-turn. I rang my husband and chatted for ten minutes. I strided towards them again, this time coughing. Still no joy. This date was clearly going well. I stood by the sound stack and texted him which seemed to work. Apparently they were just saying hello.

The rest of the day was good fun and I'd had so many cocktails I stopped worrying about being a third wheel. I just threw myself about to the Arctic Monkeys (another first). We went home and sang ballads in the back of a taxi. Who knew we both could sing along to Boyz II Men? I don't think I've ever done that either.

All in all it was a flipping terrific day with a brilliant friend on his blind date. And I've definitely not done that before.

I have never... flown a broomstick

Unsurprisingly I had never flown a broomstick.

We went to Alnwick Castle and somehow I ended up in the broomstick lesson despite the fact that I am nearly 39. Oh well it's never too late to learn I suppose. I'm not sure my technique was as good as Phoebe's.

I have never... worn a 1950s style frock

I've always wanted one of those 1950s inspired frocks with a massive underskirt. So I bought one. It was white with huge poppies on it and I will never have cause to ever wear it again. I also wore red shoes. This is the pinnacle of me being dressed up. I don't believe I can ever wear anything that will make me happier. Apart from maybe that green dress with spots...

Anyway, I recommend Lady V Vintage. You can borrow my underskirt.

I have never... been waxed

Now before you get excited it was only my eyebrows.

My children were away with their marvellous grandparents and I had a bit of a time and a spa voucher that was miraculously still in date. As I was going to a wedding at the weekend I treated myself and booked a pedicure and, well, whatever else added up to the right amount. Eyebrows it was then.

You may remember from my other blog that I once had my eyebrows plucked. I'm still trying to forget it.

Waxing was less terrible I guess. Certainly not as terrible as the images I was left with when the beautician finished talking about all the hairy men she has helped to become shiny. Shudder.

Apparently I did well considering it was the first time I'd had it done. Which made me wonder how other people react. Surely it wasn't appropriate to scream and call for your mum in these circumstances?

It was warm, then like having a plaster pulled off quickly. Not that I can be accurate about that because I've never applied plasters to my eyebrows before. It was definitely a bit...ouchy. It was also over quite quickly and the fastest £12 I ever spent even if it was with a spa voucher.

Between treatments I sat in the relaxation room but I didn't find it very relaxing. It was creepily dark. There was floating ethereal music on just a bit too loud. I got a coffee and then by the light of my IPhone read a sign indicating that it should have cost £1.50. I didn't pay. I sat in the dark feeling guilty trying not to scratch my eyebrows. Two women came in and simultaneously their beauticians sold them expensive skin specific treatments slightly too loud so as to be heard over the ethereal music. I'm sure I'm not really supposed to know that one of them had oily skin. I resisted the urge to tell them to pop into John Lewis and get a free arm massage.

I went back in the room after my pedicure - this time on my own which was even weirder. I decided I'd had enough and tried to leave. I went through a few doors, up and down in a lift, found the swimming pool and some sweaty fit people. I tried to look like I'd meant to go in the gym and convinced no-one. Eventually I found my way to freedom and breathed a sigh of relief. I had red toenails and beautiful smooth eyebrows. It was all worth it.

Of course no-one could tell I'd had my eyebrows waxed. That is until my skin decided it needed to retaliate and gave me spots. I'm fairly confident I've never had spots on my eyebrows before either.

I have never... had that expensive a hair cut

Obviously I have had a hair cut before, but not one that should have been £50. You have? Really? Wow.

So this is what happens when you haven't planned anything and have a need and window of opportunity for a haircut. It's also what happens when you work opposite an attractive quirky hairdressers and covert a life of being cool.

There was no-one else in the hairdressers. Apart from a young handsome man who washed my hair (again not something I've ever experienced), and two stylists - one with the obligatory large glasses and bushy beard which seems to go with 2014 cool.

My stylist was a lady. She was quirky, beautiful and probably the same age as me. She had one of those hairstyles that meant she couldn't quite see but I wasn't unduly concerned. The Tamper coffee was so good I was distracted.

The hair cut that followed was a lovely experience it has to be said. If tempered a bit by my underlying worry that it might be a bit pricey. I got that impression from the fact that the furniture was industrial chic and the floor concrete. Of course I hadn't checked the price before I got there - that would have been too organised and would have made me look like I wasn't the kind of clientèle they wanted.

So I learnt that straighteners are no longer really in. Which is a worry because my hair is mental.

I also learnt that I need leave in conditioner. Which was useful advice.

There was a quite a lot of touselling. During and after the hair drying. The sign of a great hairdresser presumably.

I left and they told me how much it was. I tried to look nonplussed and presumably failed as they then heavily discounted it because a)it was my first visit and b) I work across the road. Which was very nice of them, but probably not enough to get me back through the doors. Which is a shame because I loved every minute. 

I've never had a £50 hair cut before. I expect I never will again. Shame really.

I have never... seen Choir Invisible

Some weeks the new thing I end up doing is just downright lovely. This week went with my very good friends to watch a choir in Lincoln. We had cava by the river (which might actually be illegal) and a posh picnic on a park bench.

Then we sweated buckets watching Choir Invisible sing beautiful African harmonies. Some of the songs are ones we do in our workshop on a Wednesday. Several were fronted by a somewhat enthusiastic singer who used to be in the Lion King and who must spend his whole life smiling. One was a Nina Simone song. I've been listening to her on repeat ever since.

We came away with  a love (and respect) for the Click song and smiling at yet another lovely evening.

I have never... been to an evening of burlesque

So body confidence workshop turned into cocktails, turned into pizza and finally ended up in the Leadmill watching Burlesque. This included the world's worst magician, several burlesque acts who varied in ability but who mostly had flapping wings of some sort, a woman who not only undressed she ended up lying on a bed of nails and a main pole dancer who had painted himself blue. Why had I never seen anything like this before?

In some acts we could clearly see the art and beauty. It certainly is a skill and often an elegant one at that. There is an air of being on a fringe and alternative in some way. Of course we weren't because we were sitting at the back and weren't wearing 1950s head gear.

Violet Blaze was a pretty astonishing compare with an amazing singing voice and an outfit more shiny and purple than you have ever seen before. Plus we were sitting at the back so she never came and sat on our knees which was a bonus.

We managed to dodge winning anything on the raffle. Which was tricky to do since the audience wasn't very large and we had daringly bought tickets. Never have we wanted to win anything less. It wasn't the prizes although I wasn't sure I could pull off a skull fascinator, but more the fact that you have to go up on stage to collect it. Our fellow body confidence workshop goer won the lat prize. we cheered raucously. Just not raucously enough for us to be noticed.

A fantastic evening and I know follow Violet Blaze on Twitter. I'm not sure why. I just want to be supportive.

I have never... had body confidence

When I suggested going to a body confidence workshop with a Burlesque dancer I was rather surprised by the uptake amongst my friends. Which is a bonus because otherwise I would have had to go on my own.

We were asked to bring a favourite item of clothing and some comfortable heels. Which is clearly an oxymoron.

There was a bit of sharing about our insecurities. We also got to share in Violet Blaze's bosoms in all their glory. Suddenly I had a new insecurity about the size of my breasts.

So we shared. We ate chocolate. Some of the ladies got dressed up and changed shoes. I secretly wished I had brought an exciting girly top then realised I couldn't have done since Idon't own one. I strapped on my pair of heels, although I'd lost a bit and secured one of them with a loom band. Fortunately Violet's favourite shoes were secured with sellotape so I didn't feel quite so bad, but hers were a lot more sparkly than mine.

We did a lot of laughing, some dancing, some singing, some strutting and some pouting. And then I took my first ever selfie and didn't really know what I was doing. I was trumped by my friend who didn't know how to take one at all and hadn't realised that her phone didn't have a two direction camera.

Several of the lovely ladies in the group were due to do their first Burlesque performances imminently. It was at this point I realised that there is a limit to what I'll be prepared to try for the first time. There is no way on earth I'd ever be brave enough to do that.

Later I was asked if I felt any differently, in a body confidence sort of a way. well no. But I do sometimes remember to walk with my back straight and my chest (what there is of it) more forwards. Because Violet Blaze would have wanted me to. I think it's unlikely that I'll get much use out of my purple body confidence sash though but you never know.

The best thing about all of it was the joy of spending the afternoon with friends who had never met each other and yet who all had great fun larking about. That and the promise of cocktails, pizza and an evening burlesque show to follow. I love this trying new things malarky.

I have never... understood skincare

During the months pre-wedding I spent some time at Virgin Vie parties. Usually being convinced to part with lots of cash for things I never opened but that smelled nice and looked attractive on the side of the bath. Since then I haven't spent much time thinking about my face and up until this week I had never sat in a busy department store thinking about it.

I must admit I was struggling a little. No time to plan new things meant that I was easily convinced to sit in chair in public and talk about my skin care routine. Of course I have no skin care routine but in the spirit of sheer embarrassment I made one up. It went a bit like this.

"Hello, how can I help?"

"Hi, I'm looking for erm, some skin care stuff." (Pauses uncomfortably) "I have dry skin."

"What do you currently use?"

"Excuse me?"

"What is your skin care routine at the moment?"

"Ah well it's quite limited". (Quick think of something)

"What do you clean your face with?" (CLearly she thought she should be making the questions simpler)

"Erm. Oh soap. "(Bugger, that doesn't sound right. Who washes with a bar of soap? Quick fix it) "Hypoallergenic of course."

She looked shocked. As did I because I don't know where that came from. Actually I wash my face with whatever shampoo washed off my hair in the shower...

"And do you moisturise?"

"Yes."  (At least something I could say with confidence. Well she didn't ask me if it was every day...)

"And what do you use?"

"Oil of Olay" (This is sort of true as I do own some. I just didn't like to say 'whatever is on offer usually'...  I do have some standards because the one from Aldi was terrible.)

She looked worried for me and quickly encouraged me to sit on a white leather chair. I resisted the temptation to spin round on it. She already thought I was odd.

The following fifteen minutes consisted of being cleaned, spritzed and moisturised. And me making stuff up about how much make up I ever wear and how I remove it.

I learnt the following:

1. Once I use this product I will never look back

2. I should eat avocados.

3. My skin is amazing considering I wash with soap. (Or frankly considering that I don't wash it very much at all...)

4. I have time in my life for skin care.

5. I need to decant some toner into a small bottle so I can spritz myself regularly throughout the day. Really?

6. I should stop drinking alcohol.  I stopped listening at that point.

Then I spent money I didn't need to and booked myself in for a free hand and arm massage. Which incidentally I have never had either. It sounds weird. What is the use of relaxed arms? Ah well yet another small adventure to be had this time with floaty hands.

So there you go. Small again. Still building myself up to the pole dancing.

I have never... been to bootcamp

Ok so Groupon is shaping up to be a bit of a nightmare. I keep looking at offers and thinking, "well I've never done that before". There is so much stuff on there. Today I considered a makeover and photoshoot for £15 (seriously outside my comfort zone) and a hot stone massage (much more up my street).Usually I look at the price and leave it for another day, but I didn't think I could refuse an offer  that was £8 and worked out at £1 a session. That's way cheaper than joining yet another gym.

I have never had any desire whatsoever to go to bootcamp. It sounded hideous. And Shouty. But hey ho, in for a penny. Well in for a pound as it goes.

In case you don't know me well I'm not what you'd call fit. I cycle to work occasionally when the weather is agreeable and I don't have to pick shopping up on the way home. Other than that I do a good line is exercise avoidance. I just don't have the time you know. So if this challenge has done nothing lse it's made me get off my backside at least once.

I went to the park at 6.15. Luckily some other people had bought groupon vouchers too so I wasn't alone in my decision, but my anxiety levels were pretty high. I reckon I burnt calories just panicking about starting the exercise.

It began. There was running in a circle in a variety of formats. I was out of breath. After ten minutes of what by my standards was extreme exertion the instructor said "we'll be starting in just a few minutes and it will probably be a challenge". Starting in a few minutes? I thought we must have at least been half way through and due a nice sit down.

At the brief opportunity given to drink water I looked at the group of mostly women around me. I was learning you could tell a lot by what they were wearing. Anyone wearing a top with their nickname on the back was way out of my league. Along with the girl who had played beach rugby in 2012 sponsored by Spar. The next level down were the women who were either significantly fitter than me, or had previously been, as they were sporting 10k T-shirts. The rest of us had recently been shopping at Sainsburys for fitness gear. One in a very ridiculously well suited headband ran the full length of the course constantly during the most difficult bit even though it wasn't required of her. I tried not to look.

Reassuringly everyone else was pretty much similar to me. Knackered, hot, sweaty and with a worrying hot pain in both thighs at about 15 minutes in. But I did it. In not avery graceful way but I did it nevertheless.

In the car park I chatted to two members of staff from Phoebe's school and was partially convinced to do an 8km race in mud in October. One bootcamp and I've gone mad. I think maybe I'll get through another session before deciding whether to commit to that or not.

Now I am home. I can no longer ascend or descend stairs. I have asked Paul to bring a duvet down for me as I'm not getting off this sofa any time soon. I've done a bootcamp. Just another seven to go this month then...

I have never... been geocaching

Geocaching is yet another thing that I've never done. And yet again it's one that doesn't take me miles out of my comfort zone. I quite like walking. We used to do quite a lot of walking before we got married. Although to be fair we were usually looking for a pub, or at the very least where we parked the car, rather than a small plastic tub.

I didn't set out to try geocaching this weekend. I was on a 40th birthday weekend away in the peaks and was settled on painting my toenails different colours on each foot, walking the length of the room with a penny between my knees and wearing a blue wig. But the opportunity presented itself and it seemed rude to ignore it.

As such it was a really badly thought out bit of geocaching. Between us we had a map with some caches marked on it by a thoughtful holiday home owner, an IPhone app with very little signal, a terrible weather forecast and only fairly suitable outdoor clothing.

Before I go any further I would like to point out that we always knew where we were. Frankly I impressed myself with my map reading skills. It was just a shame that farmers don't believe public footpaths should be all that public. And that we chose to go out in torrential rain. I haven't been that wet in quite some time. We did a bit of stone wall vaulting (well slow climbing), some bog squelching, some farm dog avoiding. And very little of anything to do with coordinates.

The caches were marked on the map we had which made life a bit easier and Jodie actually knew what a Rowan tree looks like which was a  bonus and meant the clue left us by the cache setters had some worth. Imagine our sodden glee when we found the exact tree we were looking for. We sent Valda round the back of the tree to find the cache. Well it was her birthday. It wasn't there. We wrestled with bits of the undergrowth. We gave up and looked at the clues on the app. Finally we admitted defeat. It wasn't the best geocaching start.

The route we took should have included four caches but after all the retracing our steps and bog hopping it took us quite a bit longer than expected. After the first failure we ignored two others and headed for the last one which we knew was in a pub car park. It didn't have quite the same feeling of magic and adventure. It did however contain a pot full of small toys and was within spitting distance of a pint of Peroni.


All in all the experience was great fun but most of that was down to the wonderful girls I was away with rather larking about in the rain than any kind of geocache success. But it has got me planning on trying again. If we are going to take the kids though we need a route that definitely does not involve negotiations with farmers and one where the caches are, well, at the very least actually there. It's one thing disappointing a bunch of ladies on the long way round to the pub and quite another disappointing smallish children.

I'm off to do a bit more research. But this new thing has legs. Hopefully they won't be so soggy next time...

More suggestions

I am enjoying polling my friends about what I should do next. It's fascinating how different the suggestions are.

New possibilities this week include riding on the back of a TT motorbike. I am ridiculously excited about this so hope it comes off (and I don't).

The option of driving my friend's porsche. He clearly hasn't seen the state of my S-Max.

A tattoo. This is under discussion. I truly am having mid life crisis.

Writing a song with my husband. That will be a classic I can tell you.

Making baked alaska.

Be an extra. I would flipping love to do this. If anyone has any ideas about how I would be forever in your debt.

Zorbing. Well why the hell not.

Keep them coming. I've got 52 weeks to fill...

I have never... done watersports with my daughter

It's a bit of a stretch because I have canoed before, even if the the last time was 20 years ago. Last time I fell in.

This time I did it with my daughter and we both stayed in the boat. Which was a benefit since I wasn't wearing a wetsuit.

It was a short 30 minute trip where I did most of the work and we had very few obstacles to contend with. Just a few waves made by the speedboat. We went in one of those too as a family and squealed our way around the lake.

It struck me when thinking about things I could do for this challenge that there are lots of things I have done already. But not since I was a child. Being an adult has knocked some of the play and adventure out of me.

But a whole new world of possibility is opening up to us as a family now the girls are getting older. I can canoe again. With my family this time.

Give us a couple of years and we will be canoeing to Wildcat Island.

I have never... been to the Coal Mining Museum

Family activities most definitely count you know, which is a good thing as there are a few places we haven't been and wanted to try.

On Bank Holiday Monday we went to the National Coal Mining Museum. It's taken a while for me to be confident that my youngest could cope with being underground in the dark for an extended period. Plus I wasn't sure before now that the subject would be very thrilling for them.

But actually it was a lovely day. The underground tour was fascinating and once Phoebe learnt to cope with the dark, really funny. The nature trail was a real hit too, as were the cornish pasties.

It's free to go, although you do have to pay for the mining tour and it really is a must. If only to learn exactly how dark is pitch black and to teach you to thank your lucky stars you are a child of the 1980s.

Painting something on something to make, well something.

So I've worked out the first problem with this challenge.

I should have set a start date in about three months time so I could plan things. I have a list of things as long as my arm but most of them take planning to some extent. Even if it's just waiting for the instructor to get back to me, booking an appointment of some sort or just allowing for a bit of procrastination for the scary stuff.

This week was extremely busy and I was floundering a little. I ended up doing something crafty. I don't really do craft so it did tick all the boxes even if it wasn't the trickiest thing in the world. Let me break it down in case you ever want to replicate my master piece.

I took a wooden magazine rack. I painted it cream. Then I painted some lollies and sweets on it with acrylic paint. Then I wondered what I would do with it and put it back on the shelf. One day it might contain recipes for, well, lollies and sweets.

I quite liked it. It's not wonderful but I did actually do it myself and spent a bit of time on it. Of course it's not worth putting on Pinterest. Which is good because I don't understand Pinterest.

Here are some pictures for your delectation.

I have never... watched an insect circus

I'm starting with an easy one but it's just timing. I'm not copping out and ignoring all the physical activities I promise.

Ok so I've never been to a circus I enjoyed. And I've definitely never been to one where every act involved an acrobat dressed as an insect. Who knew that was a thing? Well it is. The Insect Circus.

It was a pre-birthday surprise for my youngest to go to the circus yesterday. The stunning vintage style big top was pretty exciting, although I did get decidedly worried when three human sized flies starting buzzing around the audience and waving their bottoms in our general direction. Audience participation is most definitely not my daughter's thing. She demanded to sit on Paul's knee and I wondered if it was going to be a very long afternoon.

The wasp taming act was equally disconcerting for her. It astonishes me why she cannot suspend disbelief when faced with a woman dressed as a lion tamer hitting a box to encourage human dressed as wasps to stand on one leg, but bless her she just can't. I wonder now whether she genuinely believed they had stung their human counterpart.

But following all that anxiety everything got better. They both adored it. I was thrilled that they could see first hand amazing people (women in particular) doing staggering things. Aerial acrobatics, tight rope walking, hula hooping, gymnastics and very entertaining hat juggling - what more could you ask for?

Well I could ask for more comfortable seats but you can't have everything.

There were even some fabulous puppets - the worm charmer was one of my favourite acts and who wouldn't want to see a ten foot high snail.

We came out into the sunshine and went into the Insect Circus museum - a small wooden trailer showing the creative back story of the circus. So much attention to detail really made me smile with artefacts from the Insect Circus stretching back years along with little animated scenes. Bonkers.

The girls came out and went on a few old fashioned (and some more modern) fair ground rides and had a whale of a time. I tried not to consider the impact on my wallet and have a day for once where we said yes to oversized lollies and swing chairs. It was a truly lovely day.

The Insect Circus is doing short sections throughout the May Day event today, Sunday 18th May, so I'd encourage you to go if you get the chance. Especially if you like tightrope walking bees.