Pussycats and Painters

Afternoon all, whilst I was in Newcastle, Susan and I wandered around some shops and I bought a new book to read whilst I'm resting up over the next couple of weeks -

"Women who kill", by Vanessa Howard.

- quite fitting really for my mood at the end of a tortuous week.

Girl cat went to the vets this week to be neutered and came back very much the worse for wear, in fact it's fair to say I have never felt so sorry for a little creature in my life. She was stumbling around being sick repeatedly and to make matters worse, boy cat took great exception to her, presumably because she smelled of the vets. Oh joy. Much of the next couple of days were spent on kitty patrol trying to stop him hissing and growling at her, although as Godawful as she felt, she hissed right back at him, she's a gutsy wee lady - one of the reasons I love her to pieces.

It was with a heavy heart that I hit the road with the girlies for the last tour before my time off.

We arrived in Newcastle and were rather excited because we had booked a new hotel which looked great on the net ( our usual was fully booked ). We walked into reception and my first thought was "Oh s*%t". It was Deadsville, Tennessee, population = two very nosey receptionists who were growling at us over their screens. ( We had obviously interrupted their quality time on Facebook. )

Not to be deterred, we booked in and headed off to our rooms, the whole place was undergoing renovation and as I stepped out onto my floor I was met by two grinning Geordies, resplendant in white overalls and a dazzling array of tattoos.

"Oiya".

Good grief.

They were right outside where my gentlemen callers would have to come out of the lift to get to my room. I could have wept. Not only that, but it was the first hotel I have ever stayed in where the chamber maids are still cleaning rooms at 4pm !?! They were cheerful souls though, cracking "funny" jokes amongst themselves and singing along to their portable radio with gusto. I happened to be passing on my way to breakfast whilst one of them was singing along to "Careless Whisper". He was making a pretty good job of it too, falsetto if you don't mind. I tutted loudly - "How gay".

You can just imagine the response I got to that, to insinuate a Newcastle man is anything approaching "soft" is to take your life in your hands. The lift doors closed in the nick of time methinks.

There's so much more I wanted to talk about like Ontario throwing out their laws on prostitution ( splendid ) and the recent article in the Daily Mail by Melanie Phillips ( anything but splendid ), but as I'm going to have quite a lot of time on my hands over the next couple of weeks, there's plenty of time for that.

For now I need to rationalise my fears about tomorrow in my mind ; it's quite routine, but it's my woman bits, I think that's what's scaring me the most. I need to get it into context and remember the women who didn't get the same news as I did and are facing an uphill battle.

I found this quote this morning and rather liked it ;

A strong woman isn't afraid of anything…
But a woman of strength shows courage in the midst of fear.

A strong woman won't let anyone get the better of her…
But a woman of strength gives the best of herself to everyone.

A strong woman makes mistakes and avoids the same in the future…
A woman of strength realizes life's mistakes can also be unexpected blessings, and capitalises on them.

A strong woman wears a look of confidence on her face…
But a woman of strength wears grace.

A strong woman has faith that she is strong enough for the journey…
But a woman of strength has faith that it is in the journey that she will become strong.

LL xx

P.S : You may have noticed I have done my availability diary and tour dates right up until the first week in December. Some may call that being anally retentive, I call it being organised.