It’s a bit weird.

*ok, so a little bit out of order but this is what happens when you write a blog post then forget to hit publish!

So last night, I sort of had a mini-freak out. Sort of.

Mums moving date is approaching, although we still can’t tie the solicitors down to an actual date, and this means the time had officially come to go through Dads stuff and begin donating as much as we possibly could to charity shops. I have to admit to being quite impressed with myself. I let more go than I thought I would and have only come home with a couple of things the vast majority of which is very practical and is stuff that I will use in my day to day life.

The rest went to charity. We only threw away 5 socks and that was only because we couldn’t find the matching pairs. I am not saying that everything is 100% perfect and that the charity will be able to sell them all, but they were my Dads clothes and I couldn’t bear to see them in the bin. In fact, the only t-shirt which was resigned to the bin, as it had a whole in the back of it, has been removed and is now safely nestled in with the rest of my PJs. I just couldn’t see his clothes thrown out.

Anyway, going through it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I mean there was an awful lot of tears, and at one point I felt sick to my stomach. But it is done, and the world keeps turning. As it seems to.

However, back to my little freak-out.

Dad had this really lovely, very stylish white shirt. It’s one that we all loved him in, but there was no way it would be of any use to my sister, my Mum or I. It was a button down the front, short sleeves, intentionally frayed t-shirt type shirt. (I feel I am not selling this particularly well, and this probably explains why I will never cut it as a fashion blogger!)

Anyway, we all looked at it and said it’s a shame we don’t know anyone it will fit. Then I thought, hang on a minute. I think it would fit S and it’s the sort of thing he would wear and look good in. So, without thinking I sent him a text asking if he wanted a new shirt.

He responded with “why?” and so I started writing a text to him explaining that Dad had a shirt, and I was giving him first refusal before we put it in a charity bag.

As I was writing the text I thought “this feels a bit weird”

His response was “isn’t that a bit weird?”

I have to admit it was. But I can’t for the life of me figure out why it felt quite so weird and we all know that when I can’t figure something out I start to worry.

My first concern was he would think this was some big romantic gesture. It wasn’t. Had he been in the room I would have said to him “do you want this” he would have said “no” and I would have thrown it into the charity bag and moved on to the next shirt.

Then I worried he was saying no as he felt it was some statement of where I thought this relationship would go. It wasn’t that either.

I think it probably had something to do with the fact it was my dead Dad’s shirt, a man he never met and I hate that. I hate that the fact my dead has affected things. Would it have been so weird if Dad was still alive? Or did it have nothing to do with Dads death and if he was still with us would it have still been weird in its own right?

I don’t know. All I know is I don’t like it.


My life is a Musical…and I think I need to pick a different one!

You may or may not know this about me, but I LOVE Musicals.

My iPod is full of various cast recordings, the current CD in my car is the Full Monty, the Musical soundtrack not the film, and when I listen to music at work it is always some musical soundtrack that I have playing in my ear. In fact, I am waiting for the day when I forget where I am and I belt “Do you want to build a snowman?” across the office.

Defying Gravity from Wicked has become my go to break up song and with lyrics like “But I don’t want that. No. I can’t want that anymore” and “I’m through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game…” is it any surprise?

I have known all the words for Les Miserable and Mack and Mable for as long as I have been able to talk. In fact, I am such a Les Mis geek, that I know the exact moment in ‘Castle on a Cloud’ where the balloon pops on the 10th-anniversary concert causing the girl singing it to jump. Heck, even though I sort of can’t stand that song, it did inspire the name of my blog.

When Dad and I were decorating my house we became obsessed with listening to Avenue Q. Every time, it’s a fine fine line came on my Dad would race across to the iPod player, turn the volume up and we would both sing along at the top of our lungs until it finished at which point he would skip it back and we would do it all over again; and my car is lovingly referred to as Kate Monster, another Avenue Q reference, by my Mum.

Growing up, my sister and I would act out various musicals in our lounge, and there are more than one dodgy home videos of me “performing” mainly as a child, but I have to admit since I have started doing amateur dramatics there are one or two dodgy ones out there of me as an adult too.

I sang “On my own” and “I dreamed a dream” alone, in the rain on the banks of the River Seine after OH had dumped me (true story) and the very last plans we made as a family were to go and see Billy Elliot when it was touring. Sadly, Dad didn’t make it. And my sister and I are planning a trip away for Mum on her birthday which will include a visit to go and see Miss Saigon.

Throughout my life, certain circumstances have reminded me of certain songs.  “Mix tape” certainly sums up the situation I currently find myself in with S, as I am uber aware that I spend an awful lot of my time looking for the reason behind the actions – although this is something I am getting better at.

I love musicals, and I love the songs but as my life currently seems to be mirroring some of my favourite show tunes. I can’t help but feel maybe now is the time I need to pick a new song.




I’m about to spend the last night in my mum and dads house and it’s killing me. The idea of walking out of here tomorrow,  handing over the keys and never coming back…

I know I moved out about 2 years ago. But this is still home.
I moved in here when I was two. Everywhere I look I see a million memories and I are my dad’s handy work – the downstairs bathroom he put in himself,  the decking he spent a summer constructing. This place has always been home. The one place I knew I could come and be safe, protected and loved.
I know it so well. It’s sounds it’s smells. I love how I can turn off all the lights and just walk around the house in the dark. I know the way instinctively. I see switches which I must have touched a million times and knowing after tomorrow something so familiar to me is going to be list forever. Never again will I look out of my bedroom window onto the back garden.
I won’t even have a room at mums new place.
I know it’s for the best.
I know this has to happen. But I hate it. Right now I’d give anything to change it.
I know I’ll get through tomorrow. I’ve gotten through so much worse.
But this sucks and I hate it

My first review

I have to admit, I was struggling for a topic for today’s blog post. I didn’t want to another ranty, woe is me, type blog post as surely you have to have had your fill of them by now.  But sadly, as I don’t really have anything else but looking after Mum going on in my life right now I am struggling for another other news.

Or at least I was.

Then I opened my emails today. My very first review.


Granted it’s not a positive one, but hey I’ll take what I can get.

And I loved the little disclaimer at the bottom

Note: – We are not spammer. We found your emails through manually efforts.We are sorry if you get email 2 or 3 times. You can simply reply with “remove” so we will delete your email from our list.”

Well, I would hate to disagree with you, but according to Wikipedia a spam email “also known as junk email is a subset of electronic spam whereby a single unsolicited message is sent by email.” which I am pretty sure is exactly what this is.

Plus, if you found my email through ‘manually efforts’ doesn’t that mean I have appeared in some sort of search ? Which would imply my blog isn’t quit as God awful as you made it sound!

Hmm, think I might be hitting the delete button!

I can’t catch a break.

I don’t know what’s going on with my life at the moment but I seriously don’t seem to be able to get a break.
Obviously, everything with dad and then with mum has left me knackered. I’m so busy trying to fit in seeing people in haven’t seen whilst dealing with Dad that I’m not sure I’m going get
I’m so busy trying to fit in seeing people in haven’t seen whilst dealing with Dad that I’m not sure I’m going get a chance for a holiday this year. Which I know I shouldn’t moan about but seriously the idea of just sitting by a pool and doing nothing,  which usually would do nothing for me, but after this year just having no responsibilities and being able to focus on me – it appeals!
Honestly, I just want some sun and a bit of ‘me’ time.
However with things being up in the air with the move, at the moment the best I can do are weekend here and there with various friends. The idea is I get a few cheap nights away, where I can relax and be pampered, for once. The plan was to  drink plenty of wine,  talk about my Dad and just let them look after me a little bit.
That’s why I made a five hour trip on Friday night to see one of my friends, despite me worrying about leaving mum after everything she has been through. I felt if I didn’t get away I may have a complete breakdown.
I’d imagines a weekend sat in the sun in their garden, drinking wine, talking about Dad, being looked after and generally just getting a chance to recharge my batteries and have someone look after me for once.
However,  that hasn’t happened.
Firstly it’s rained. It’s rained the entire day and rather than needing sunscreen, I’ve spent the day searching for a blanket. But that’s not my big grr or the motivation for writing this post. After everything I have been through this year, it’s going to take more than a little rain to break me.
No, the thing that has gotten my goat, is that whilst I thought I was coming down for a quiet, self-indulging weekend, in fact I am coming down for a summer bbq and they have organised to have a house full. All weekend.
Rather than relaxing with my friend. I’m going to be stuck in a room full of strangers trying to make small talk for 48 hours.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I knew I could escape after a few hours but everyone is staying over and there is talk of a disco, dj and karaoke…
Had I known this was what I was signing up for when I came down I don’t know if I’d have come.
All I wanted was a weekend to talk about my Dad and have someone look after me. Was that really too much to ask for?