I have been reading with sad interest the recent news surrounding John Terry and Wayne Bridge and I was sorry yesterday to see Wayne take the decision to step down from playing for England in the World Cup compromising his own football career.

I hope with two months ahead he may overcome this and change his mind but I do understand his confusion and possibly dislike of being close to a man, once called a friend, who betrayed him on such a deep level.

We’ve been talking about friends on the blogosphere recently and how some come into your life share wonderful experiences with you and then vanish never to be seen again and others stay around for the whole long haul. Each one of these encounters, we imagined, were to enrich our lives and show us new angles from which to analyse yourself.

Trust, I believe, is fundamental in any relationship and when that trust is broken it is incredibly hard to patch up and move on. It can be done but requires enormous amounts of input from both parties.

So why is it that all of us at some point have been betrayed by a person we called a friend? What is the lesson to be learnt here?

Do as you would be done by.

A powerful statement that I try to live by. I don’t want any of my friends having a fling with my man so I don’t flirt with their men, not even for a joke but freshly arrived in Italy at the tender age of 19 and madly in love with my very own Italian I was horrified to see how girls would hang around him very obviously looking for his attention fully aware that he was ‘in a relationship’. This didn’t seem to bother them in the slightest and yet there was such a strong enforced rule I had learnt growing up here in the UK.

If he’s ‘spoken for’ you don’t mess.

So why didn’t the Rule count out there? I came across this time and time again  it caused endless arguments until eventually it wore me out and I surrendered.

Vanessa Perroncel is French, I believe she grew up there and came here to work a few years back. So is it a continental thing? Or does it also exist here in the UK and yet I, thankfully haven’t bumped into it yet?

What makes a woman go with a man when she knows he is a husband and father, when she realises that her actions will have dire consequences on an entire family? Greed? Ignorance? Lust?

When I was 18 I worked in a famous restaurant in Mayfair London as a receptionist. On handing in my notice my manager suggested we had a leaving party, me and him, he would book a room at the Ritz Hotel and we could spend an afternoon together.

A mind-boggling suggestion let there be no doubts at what he was hoping for, but I knew he had a wife and two little boys and coming from a broken family myself I couldn’t do it. I declined.

If you were the other woman do you think you would be able to stop yourself and turn away before it was too late?

Yes, maybe this is the way forward in today’s slack property market.

Mum sent me an article from the Daily Telegraph on Sarah Beeny’s website Tepilo.com and as I normally do I shoved it on my To Do pile and promptly forgot about it but with nothing happening for the sale of our house (currently on the market with TWO agents) I decided to investigate Sarah’s option and after weighing up the ins and outs, I realised I had nothing to lose.

Tepilo.com is free to use, you upload your photos and descriptions make sure you have a valid HIP – we have – and voila’ all done. So I have now uploaded our details and will wait to see if anything comes of it.

You see I find it impossible to do nothing and wait for a buyer to turn up. I always feel that I have to try to do everything in my power to make it work. I have also got into the habit of consulting Mystic Meg to see if she foresees I’ll be moving in the near future! So far she hasn’t said so…but once those planets shift around a bit well then the ‘Time will be right’

Do you think it’s a case of ‘Che sara sara’ or would you also be proactive?

stirling cooper blouse

Have a look at this blouse will you?

I found it in my wardrobe and I thought to myself …with all the flowery stuff around at the moment and bright colours it could be useful again…I’m following on from my Wreck post if you hadn’t noticed.

Well I thought back to where and when I had bought it and started to tot up the years…

This blouse is older than my first son Tommy who will be 22 at the end of March!

How is that for hoarding stuff?

I want you to keep in mind that I bought it in London in approx 1985, when I had finished college, was working in London and living there too. Please also take into account I moved to Italy in 1986 and lived there on and off till 2003. In that period I probably moved home more than 10 times. (I’ve moved three times since I’ve been with Paul and that’s only 5 years!)

This Stirling Cooper blouse (it says on the label) is made out of a very light chiffon kind of material, in fact there are places on the back seam that runs from one shoulder to the other where the stitching is starting to fray and it still hasn’t been put into a charity bag. The print is a kind of Andy Warhol with Marilyn and James Dean clear to see.

I could probably count on one hand the amount of times I have worn it and yet it has survived, umpteen house moves, 4 children, 2 dogs, 4 cats, 2 men’s opinions (maybe more but I’d have to think carefully) and some raucous night’s out.

Wow! I am impressed and if anyone can give me a tip on how to repair the fraying chiffon seam at the back I’d be very grateful and maybe give the shirt an airing in the near future.

If you dug deep into your wardrobe, could you come up with some vintage?

If we hadn’t sold a property only 2 years ago I wouldn’t have any comparison to make but with a sale in a month and a move completed in 3 months I was under the illusion that it would be a walk in the park again this time round. After all, I keep seeing on the BBC news and reading in the national papers that property markets are starting to take off again.

Well, they’re not.

The area we live in is a desirable one. It’s on the commuter link to London, the estate is a quiet, well looked after area with amenities such as shops, local library, doctors surgery and Neighbourhood watch. The houses are all well-kept and the neighbours are friendly. Property here is usually snapped up in a click of the fingers. Five weeks it took my in-laws to sell their property last summer. So I cannot understand the delay this time round.

Admittedly we put our house up for sale in mid October and by the end of November, we knew it would quiten down whilst everyone prepared for Christmas. But we were told by the estate agents that January is one of the best months of the year for selling. So we too got on with organising our Christmas.

And since the beginning of the year it has been so very, very slow. The viewings in dribs and drabs, the offer – only one so far, way to low to be considered.

When I question the agents, they are hasty to reply they’re very busy at the moment. So either my property is awful (and they have assured me plenty of times that it is not the case) or they’re quieter but don’t want to let on.

We also went to have a look at another house over the weekend just in case we lose out on our first choice.

Every single room needs working on and the only thing I did like was the big kitchen with diner attached but you can’t buy a house on that just alone. The 3rd bedroom was off the 2nd, the bathroom suite was avocado (shudder) and there were cheap built wardrobes made out of chipboard in every room, painted to match the walls. A nightmare.

Robinson Michael Jackson, one of our agents, called and on their suggestion our property is now being sold with a price guide, they hope it will attract more buyers and therefore more offers with hopefully a bidding war.

I see there’s a new moon this week and I hope that will change the current sorry state of affairs. I have more faith in the moon right now.

Rudolph potatoes roasted with lamb and vegetables

Best day of the week? I’m not sure, maybe that prize would go to Saturday because as much as I love my Sundays they are tarnished with the knowledge that tomorrow is Monday again.

But Sundays for me are all about relaxing, indulgence, Sunday roasts, delicious desserts – today we have a white chocolate cheesecake for our guests made with my own fair hands mmmm.

Sundays are listening to the radio whilst flicking through the papers seeing who has been caught in the media floodlights this week.

Sundays are not being too concerned about the housework.

Sundays are doing the ironing in front of a Sunday afternoon film.

Sundays are not worrying about the diet for a day.

Sundays are for nice long walks at a brisk pace to keep yourself warm.

the ship inn cobham kent

Sundays are a pint and a glass of wine in the local pub before dinner is served.

Sundays are for family get togethers, when the children can eat more chocolate and sweets than usual, dad gets an extra pint and mums catch up on the gossip.

Sundays are for family days out, paying way too much for the parking, spending exorbitant amounts for food and drinks, finding out you needed to book in order to enter and getting home worn out.

Sundays are for savouring the last Sunday moments on the sofa while the children sleep watching trash TV with a nice cup of tea.