Earlier and earlier every year....

So Reader, if you've followed my blog for a while, it will come as no surprise to you that Christmas is my most favourite time of year. I get craft crazy, bake all the time, generally wander round with a face like a child in a Dickens novel who's just been given entry to a toyshop.

To make sure I don't go too mad I generally instate a rule that I can't do Christmassy stuff before the 1st of December. Which means no Christmas music, food, films or decorating. Every year though, my addiction takes hold a little more, and I find excuses to get the season going earlier and earlier. Going to the annual Taste of Christmas fair with my gorgeous make up artist friend SJ (remember her? from the cake blogs?) in late November now gives me an excuse to get outrageously excited a bit early. Going to my boyfriend's hometown to have Advent Sunday dinner with his family and old friends is also going to allow me to have mince pies in November (because it would be SO RUDE not to) and the fact that I have an enormous Irish Catholic family who keep having babies means I have had an excuse to start shopping and crafting since the first of November. Last year I spent a week filming in Portugal in December so I managed to convince my housemate that we had to decorate the flat in November so we'd still get the full levels of Christmassy vibes.

Don't get me wrong, I'll still be mostly sticking to my rules-no Christmas films before 1st December (and yes, that includes Christmas TV-re-runs of Kirsty Alsops homemade Christmas and Nigella's Christmas specials are like crack to me), no christmas music on the ipod before 1st December, no opening Christmas magazines (now sat tantalizingly at the end of my bed) no reading A Christmas Carol or putting a Christmas theme on my laptop....

but...

I may have already burnt a Christmas scented candle or three....
and made Christmas pudding....
and have my home made wreath on my bedroom door...
and given my boyfriend a 'Christmas decoration starter kit' for his flat...
and coerced him and also curly one to let me come and help decorate the second they want to feel Christmassy....
And read all the Christmas catalogues from all the supermarkets and planned all the food (because they don't count...right?)

Oh dear...

Elf
x

Erm...I mean,
Ash
x

Post Christmas food coma...

Hello Reader! I hope you've had a wonderful festive season, whether it was Christmas, Hanukkah or Kwanzaa you were celebrating! I have just arrived back at Bag End, where I am currently avoiding unpacking my suitcase and playing with all my lovely Christmas pressies instead. I got a sewing machine! Which means lots more home made presents for my loved ones, and hopefully some hand made clothes for myself once I get the hang of it. So far I've worked out how to sew in a straight line. And re-thread the needle. Complex stuff for a gal who normally hand sews everything! Me and my godson's mum are already planning a series of 'Stitch and Bitch' afternoons where we mend things and set the world to rights. Possibly with hairnets on.

I also got a beautiful camera, which means that as soon as my external disk drive and memory cards arrive, AshActingUp will also extend to a YouTube channel near you! Keep an eye out for links in the new year. If any of my readers fancy making me a little intro clip with music to use on the vlogs, I'd be very grateful-I'll make you something wonky on my new machine!

So I'm assuming the rest of you, like me, are so bloated with food and booze that the prospect of fitting into anything other than smocks is looking like an impossible dream. I've been full on gorging myself with Boursin and Disaronno since November, so now is most definitely the time for eating lots of veggies and walking EVERYWHERE. Apart from NYE, obviously. Because I intend to eat A LOT of Chinese food and chocolate then. But yes, eating must be slightly less of a blood sport for the next month, as at the end of January I'm off filming for Sky again and need to fit into skinny jeans and a strap top. And look a bit bad ass. May need to head off for some aerobics classes in the mean time (god save me!). Luckily, I knew this time was coming, so I made sure I stuffed myself full of food over the Christmas period so I didn't feel like I'd be missing out in January. Sarnies filled with turkey, cheese, pickles, butter, crisps, stuffing and cranberry sauce were a particular favourite. As were my home made Gruyere and caramelised onion tarts (I made 12 just to be on the safe side). And of course, it's terribly important to polish off all those cold roasties with chutney and a dessert of ice cream with biscuits. I don't think I saw a food that wasn't smothered in either butter or cheese for most of December! So now all I want is a carrot with some humus. And a peppermint tea. I've had to hide all my crimble chocolate away so I don't get tempted and shove it all in my face at once-it'll be a lovely treat in February when I'm depressed by how cold and gloomy it is here in London!

I do realise too, that I shall have to take down the Christmas decorations at Bag End relatively soon. But given that I only just arrived back, I feel like that can wait. After all, the tree still looks so pretty and smells so nice! I feel that my housemate The Curly One may put her foot down if it gets to after New Years Day and the tree is still up though. Quite fairly!

Right lovely Reader, I am off to play on my sewing machine a bit more and maybe think about unpacking my suitcase (groan!),

Eat up those leftovers while you can!
Ash
x

Lonely this Christmas...

So Reader, this is my first Christmas in 5 years as a singleton. I feel like Bridget Jones, only younger and with a smaller flat. And not because I have two dashing men on the scene-no, it's more the cheesy knitted jumper, cringey moments and eating all the food in the house (including, in one tragic moment, a jar of lemon curd). Oh, and going back home for the holidays, which means I'll be sure to be asked the question all singletons dread, 'So, any men on the scene?'

No. There are no men on the scene. The scene is completely lacking in testosterone. Apart from gay men. And very very young ones. Instead of dates, my evening now consist of drinks with the girls (we like to call them platonic date nights-they tend to consist of sushi, dancing on boats, festive booze outside old man pubs and the sort of laughter you only do when you don't give a rats arse how you look or sound), nights on the sofa with my housemate and dinners with the parents. On the rare occasions I do meet guys I have a connection with, they are invariably taken. On a number of occasions, this has led to awkward situations (talking about the guy you fancy to your friend, then being introduced to the girlfriend you didn't know about who was listening the entire time anyone? Kill me now.) and downgrading my flirting far too late into the conversation as it slowly dawns on me that the Fifi they've been talking about is in fact, their significant other rather than their sister.

And of course everyone else in the world is getting married. I'm going to four weddings next year. FOUR. Generally I'm pretty happy being a single lady, but there's nothing like the inevitable stream of facebook posts telling you that 'Terry and Andre are engaged!' or 'Penny and Marcus are tying the knot!' to make you feel a little left behind. Your mid twenties seem to provoke a fight or flight reaction-you evaluate life and either break up with your partner or start getting married and having kids. Meanwhile, if you're anything like me, you're trying to work out the perfect hot chocolate/ biscuit combo and being outraged that your parents suggested not leaving out a mince pie for Santa this year. And I keep getting told that we're the 'It'll do' generation, who just settle. I don't want to settle! I want true, gut punching, knees wobbling, head spinning love! Not 'Ah, he's alright I suppose' vague affection!

It doesn't help that this is one of the most romantic times of year. Holding hands round Christmas markets, buying joint Christmas pressies, having snowball fights and then cold kisses after, roaring fires and twinkly lights at every turn. You kind of even lose your enthusiasm for Christmas films a bit-Love Actually is less appealing when the character you most resemble is the secretary who tries way too hard and doesn't get even a snog out of it (HAH, only joking, I'd never be that forward! I'm far too shy for all that nonsense!) and Miracle on 34th Street is less charming when you keep yelling 'JUST BE NICE TO HIM YOU DAFT COW! HE'S PERFECT AND WANTS TO MARRY YOU DESPITE YOUR STUPID FLICKY HAIR AND PRECOCIOUS BRAT OF A CHILD AND BESIDES, HE'S BEST FRIENDS WITH SANTA!'.  Me and the lovely SJ keep saying we're going to give up on men and become platonic wives with the perfect home. I'll have the kids from a handsome gay sperm doner, she'll bring the money in and hire someone to nanny when I have an acting job and we'll both get wonderfully fat. We might miss actual romance though, so we'll keep it an open marriage just in case.

So this year, when well meaning relatives ask me 'Any men on the scene?' I'm going to look them dead in the eye and say

'Yes. Santa.'

Hope you're all enjoying the festive period Reader, whether you're a single pringle or loved up!
Ash
x

Early days....

Oh dear Reader. So, on Friday SJ and I went to Taste of Christmas in London (quickly becoming an annual tradition) and got very tipsy and very full on free samples of flavoured vodka and cheese and christmassy goodness. I think I was slightly affected by a morning of such crimble delight, because Saturday (entirely unplanned I might add, since I wasn't supposed to be doing it till this Friday) I got a tree and decorated the entire flat! My wonky, home made decorations are now adorning walls, trees and ceilings (yes, ceilings) and Bing Crosby's Festive album is jingling and tinkling in the background.

It's November.

I KNOW. But my thinking is that I've had a pretty tough year and I deserve some joy. Some people would turn to drugs or drinking, I turn to tinsel and mince pies! (Ohhhh, mince pies! I'm going to get one RIGHT NOW).

Yum. Ok, where was I before the sugar rush hit? Oh yeah, Christmas. So, to me, Christmas has a healing effect. This year has been one of the most dramatic I've ever had, changes coming left right and center. The gutting break up of my almost 5 year relationship left me reeling, suddenly the marriage, kids and home I'd been looking forward to disappeared from the future, leaving uncertainty in their wake. Moving out has meant that I can no longer afford to save or buy clothes (even from primark!) and I hit my mid twenties with a bang. But Christmas makes all of that dealable. Watching festive films reinforces my ideals of romance and the chance at true love, makes me grateful for my wonderful family and friends who have been so supportive during the upheaval, talking to my (almost 3 year old) godson about Santa and teaching him christmas songs strengthens my knowledge that I'll be a bloody brilliant mum (whether I have to do it on my own or not) and having moved into my little hobbit den with my fantastic housemate has helped me realise that I can be self reliant, even on very little money. Decorating said hobbit den with said very little money has made me proud that I can make somewhere a true home and still embrace the traditions that I hold so dear. Seeing acts of Christmas charity around England warms my heart and the idea that magic can happen is something I hold dear. And of course mince pies and roast potatoes make everything seem better.

The thing is, I have a great life. Sometimes it's easy to forget that, but the brilliant thing about this time of year is that the world gets warmer even as the air chills. Which sounds like poetic nonsense but to be honest, it's true. It's the perfect way to end a year and makes me feel like Jimmy Stewart at the end of It's A Wonderful Life every time.

So to those who say 'I hate how early Christmas keeps coming every year' and talk about commercialism, all of that might be true, but for some of us, it's perfect, just the way it is.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
Ash
x

Hit by the crimble bomb...

HoHoHo Reader!

       O.k. I know. It's November. Which means half of you are probably about to close this page down and throw darts at a handily placed photo of my head. But hear me out-Good Housekeeping just released their Christmas special, which I read in front of a roaring fire, with my favourite Yuletide tv channel on in the background (if you couldn't guess...Christmas 24 does it for me. Just watched The Nutcracker, followed by Eloise at Christmas). I've already brought the majority of my Christmas pressies for this year, and have been feeding my Christmas puds (wheat free and so boozy the smell of the vapours alone disinfected my cupboards) since mid October. Last week my Nan dropped off a bunch of twig blasted with gold glitter (and bizarrely smelling of star-anise. I'm not even convinced I know what that is) an they're currently decorating my fireplace in a twinkly festive sort of way. Essentially, I am prepared. Come at me bro, as the internet population of boys under the age of 19 would say. I feel as if I'm courting some kind of disaster by being so ready, but I'm also waaay to excited. I've noticed that my neighbours already have their tree up, and while I'm mostly horrified (it is only November after all) I'm also slightly impressed. And it's quite nice to walk past twinkly lights on my way home from work etc when it's dark. Not that I've been at work much of late, I've been horribly ill for weeks, my voice vanished completely and I've been having issues getting energy for anything other than walking up the stairs. I've literally been sleeping for 10 hours a night and am still needing naps and am only just beginning to come out the other side. And thank goodness because a whole load of acting stuff has started coming in. I'll be doing a one night show in December (a rather funny short play about....Christmas!), am starting modelling for an artist on Friday and am shooting an audition for pilot season in the US tomorrow (fingers crossed chaps, it's for a really groovy one). All rather busy! 

I've got the Woman and Home and Good Food Christmas specials still to come, and I'm not going to lie-the excitement is killing me. Sometimes I get so happy that Christmas is just round the corner, that I just sit and shake a bit. I haven't put my jingle choons on my ipod yet, I'm not a nutter after all.

I am burning Christmas scented oils though. And I got caught humming 'Baby it's Cold Outside' today...

I am like a reverse Grinch. I am so Christmassy that if I did a blood test right now, it would sparkle with joy and spirit and the faint noise of Reindeer sleigh bells.

I am a sick sick woman Reader, forgive me!

Until next time,

Ash

x 

Slice of cake and a glass of cold milk...

Reader, I am currently obsessed by a cake. Not just any cake, or even cake in general. More surprisingly, not a cupcake. It's a big old brick of a Christmas cake, left at my house by my grandmother. I know, fruitcake is supposed to be really dull, one of those cakes that only old ladies like, but I have a particular fondness for it, especially when it's washed down with milk. It has to be jam packed with fruit and brandy of course (and this one certainly is) and dotted with glacé cherries like little lucky dips, and although I normally can't stand marzipan, I can't deny that it utterly defines a marvellous fruitcake.

Considering that I'm trying to keep my weight down for the tour, it is not ideal that I keep coming home and sawing off big chunks of the cake to munch on, but it's so utterly, deliciously, luxuriously good. Like eating a box of charbonnel and walker pink champagne truffles all to yourself (which yes, this Christmas, I did). Eating crimble cake also gives me the delightful sensation that Christmas is not over yet, while there are still things to be greatly enjoyed from it. And having such a lovely thing to come home from work to serves to distract me (mostly) from the fact that this is the most depressing time of the year. Monday actually was statistically the most grim day of the whole year. Which is a pain, because I felt perfectly happy in the morning, but like a self fulfilling prophesy, by the end of the day I just wanted to hide under my bed. Ah well Reader, only two or so more weeks till I stop coming into the call centre for a blessed month and spend my time doing what I love with a bunch of like minded individuals. So I won't complain!

I don't think I'll be the only one to breathe a sigh of relief when it starts getting a bit warmer though. Today was so cold I had to wear four layers just so my boobs didn't look like they were saluting strangers. We were driving my younger brother back to uni (which, if you're interested, took HOURS. I left the house more than 8 hours ago and have only just got home. That's love.) and had to have both the heated seats (best invention since oil burners) and the normal heating on. What with that and my mum's talking books, we were all feeling pretty drowsy for most of the trip. Of course, my mum and I were particularly disappointed not to get to meet any of the brother's housemates, as we'd been looking forward to embarrassing him all weekend. Ah well, some other time perhaps! It actually made me quite jealous. I remember that lovely sensation of finally being alone after the holidays, in a space that I could call my own, with a packet of fags, a freshly filled fridge, Christmas pressies to put around my uni room and the promise of drinks later that night. Living with the parents may be a delight (and great for saving money), but you don't really get the same independence that living alone offers. Not that I'd ever want to move back into uni accommodation. I all too clearly remember the weird smells, bad plumbing, mess and sharing a loo with too many people.

Right, now what to have for dinner? More fruitcake perhaps....
Ash
x

Christmas cupcakes (a tad late)

Reader! Here it is! The long awaited Christmas edition of mine and SJ's cake exploits blog! This time, we focused on finding the most Christmassy cakes from some of the shops we've tried in the past to see if they should go on our crimble list or be chucked out with the leftover sprouts. By the end of the day, we were so cupcaked out we had to go eat enormous amounts of salt, just to get some semblance of balance back in our poor hyperactive bodies. But the results were seriously mixed! Some of our best scorers let us down, and a new entry rocked the boat! So lets crack on with...

ASH & SJ's FESTIVE CAKE BLOG

HUMMINGBIRD

It was a cold and windswept day when we rolled up in central London, wearing so many layers we looked slightly like Verucca Salt from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, post chewing gum. I had been working at Spitafields Market since 7.30am doing a promotions job (highly glam jobbing actor's job...if you ignore the freezing weather conditions) and had noticed a Hummingbird Bakery tucked away around the corner. Now, you may remember Reader, that the last time we went to a Hummingbird, the cake did rather well. In fact, it got 10/10, the highest we had ever scored a cake. The only reason it lost out overall was that the staff could have done with being a bit more attentive. So we were full of excitement to try the festive range. Unfortunately, the most exciting options were not available that day. We'd been hoping for their egg-nog cupcake, or maybe a go at the mint candycane one as we hadn't seen anything remotely similar anywhere else, but because the festive menu gets rotated on a daily basis, the only option available to us was the chocolate orange flavour. At first we were a little glum about this, it seemed a bit boring, I mean, yes, we got the Christmassy theme being that everyone always gets a Terry's chocolate orange in their stocking, but would it really knock our socks off? The server assured us that it was really good, and she did seem to know what she was talking about (although once again we weren't altogether delighted with the service, she only gave us one fork despite us asking for two, then gave us a wooden one when we asked for another, wasn't very smiley or conversational and took ages just to get a cupcake to us). As usual, the shop was clean, well presented and stylish, but they seriously lost out on Christmas points! SJ and I are very much into our big, cheesy Christmas decorations. All there was at hummingbird was a couple of stickers on the window. I mean, really. The other slight issue was that there was only one table inside, and it was reserved. In a cupcake shop. On one of the coldest days of the year. Yes. Really. So we had to sit outside with our cake! How cruel. 

But reader, please do not think that the experience was all bad. The cake....oh lordy....the cake was amazing. It was richer than their usual chocolate cake, so moist I didn't really need my drink and the orange flavour tasted like genuine orange rather than fake flavouring. The buttercream was perfect in both taste and texture and we agreed that if it wasn't for the fact that we were about to embark on a whole load of cupcakes, we would have gotten another one each! 

PRICE: 3.95 (Yes, blooming expensive, but seriously worth it)

Taste: 10/10 (again!)

Staff: 5/10

Price: 8/10

Festivity: 1/10

Overall: 24/40

Oh dear Hummingbird! The best cakes, as ever, but your service (and Christmas cheer) needs some looking at! 

COX, COOKIES & CAKES

Now, Cox, Cookies & Cakes is a company who knows how to do Christmas. We walked in to fairy lights everywhere, festive statues and Christmas tunes blaring. The staff were initially a little standoffish (although the guy was attempting to do some form of mini photoshoot at the time with a cake) but warmed up throughout our visit, chatting away and giving us advice on cake and were gorgeous as ever (Oh Patrick Cox, you know how to make us ladies happy). Once again, we were given free hot coco (this time with whipped cream!) with our cake and there were chairs available (thank goodness!). We opted for the orange and cranberry star cake. The cake had a lovely sugar star on top which was a nice touch, some juicy fruit that tasted as if it had been soaked prior to baking and you get a lot of cake for your money. The icing was also particularly good, and the ratio of icing to sponge was excellent. Unfortunately, the sponge was a little dry and not very orangey, it could almost have done with a splash of juice in there! The icing did make up for it though, and there was certainly none left on our plates by the end!

PRICE: £2.50

Flavour: 7.5/10

Price:10/10

Staff: 8/10

Festivity: 9/10

Overall: 34.5/40

Bravo Cox, Cookies and Cakes. We like you a lot.

SWEET COUTURE

As we were walking back from Cox, we chanced upon a little cake shop called Sweet Couture, whose window was full of gorgeously presented cakes and a triple tiered red velvet cake that made us dash in (even though we both really needed a wee and there was no loo). They had a cake called Winter Spice which caught our eye at once with it's silver balls and bright orange icing. The woman who served us was lovely, very chatty, very friendly, just what we look for in a staff person! And she gave us both forks and a knife. Fabulous. The shop was also very christmassy, with the window adorned with a massive ribbon, it looked as if it had been giftwrapped! Unfortunately, the shop was let down by the cake. The sponge was quite dry, and so spicy it actually burnt going down. Too much nutmeg had been used, although it was a valiant effort and we did love the silver balls. The icing wasn't half bad, but we would almost have preferred a vanilla sponge to offset the spice! 

PRICE: £2.50

Flavour: 6/10

Price: 8/10

Staff: 9/10

Festivity:10/10

Overall: 33/40

Nice try Sweet Couture, maybe we'll give you a go again in the future!

PRIMROSE BAKERY

Reader, you may remember that last time we tried Primrose Bakery, we loved it. The cakes were delicious, the staff were a delight and the shop was perfect. So we had some pretty high expectations. We were a little disappointed by the fact that they only had two Christmas options, Christmas Pudding or bog standard Vanilla (although granted, the decorations on the vanilla ones were gorgeous).

 We went for Christmas Pudding because it sounded like it might be interesting. And it was. Sort of. In not the best way we've ever come across.  The thing is, Primrose bakery is LOVELY. Walking in is like taking a breath of fresh air. It was quiet, there were chairs and the staff were nice. But there were no Christmas decorations. Which was a shame, because the cake was then a bit like being assaulted by Santa. They used brandy butter for icing, which as a concept is nice, but it was overpowering in the extreme.The cinnamon in the sponge was like smoking a stick of the stuff and we ended up leaving much of it on the plate. Such disappointment!

 PRICE: 2.50

Flavour:4/10

Staff: 7.5/10

Price: 7/10

Festivity: 3/10

Overall: 21.5/10

Look how sad you made SJ....for shame.

CANDY CAKES

Reader, we should have known better. We've done Candy Cakes before and it was rubbish. But we were cold and running out of ideas that were nearby. So we thought it would only be fair to give them another chance. They only had one option, blueberry with a marshmallow reindeer on top (which is great, unless you're a veggie like me). The staff were distracted and kept chatting instead of paying attention to us as customers (in fact, they were so distracted that they later missed seeing a french kid smoking inside and then stealing a load of their sweets. They had a minimum payment limit for cards (YOU'RE IN CENTRAL LONDON! IN A BIT THAT HAS NO CASHPOINTS!!!) The cake was a bit blah, as expected. It was more of a muffin with icing than a cupcake, and to be honest, they needed to take a page out of the american cake makers book, they did not do baking with blueberries well. The problem is, Candy Cakes always looks really nice from a distance, and then you try it and it's a bit poo. It's like someone really passionate about cake started it, then let a crap management company cake over and ruin it. At least they had a Christmas tree. 

PRICE: £3.50

Flavour: 4.5/10

Staff: 3/10

Price: 2/10

Festivity: 5/10

Overall: 14.5/40

The lower edge of moderate. You made us look like grumpy yetis. 

Keep tuned for our New Years blog entry folks!

Ash & SJ

x

Hermitisation...

Reader, today I had my last day of work of the year. I was really tempted not to go because

a) I've twisted my ankle and so have a ridiculous limp (and the job involved lots of walking)
b) I had a crazy allergic reaction and one of my eyes was so swollen when I woke up I could barely open it
c) I'd had 3 hours sleep

but I went anyway because my boss is lovely and it would have been ridiculously hard to find someone to cover for me at such late notice. Also, because it was the last day, I knew it would be lovely and everyone would be full of high spirits! This turned out to be true of my co-workers, but not so much the  po-faced business people we were trying to give flyers to. But nothing could shake my optimism, because it's Christmas really really soon and the woman who won our big prize draw was both pregnant and had a hubby in the armed forces which meant she might be spending the holidays alone (well...actually, she was wearing a Help for Heroes badge, so I just sort of assumed all the rest, but it certainly made it more special when she won £500 in vouchers!). And now I'm free Reader! Free to spend my days watching film after terrible film on the Christmas24 movie channel and sneaking chocolates off the tree! Free to attempt to make a card holder (might leave that to my dad actually, his card holders are the stuff of legend. They don't always work, but they always look interesting. Like a piece of conceptional art from the 90s)! Free to make yule logs and try and make my hair get the Nigella bounce!

Today I got to watch It's A Wonderful Life with the parents (and a glass of something alcoholic and orangey) at which I cried (as I always do), plus we got to crack open the first box of chocolates of the season and I was introduced to The Graduate which made me cackle like an old biddy. How have I not seen it before? It's such a class act of a film, and so not what I expected. I even had a chance to tidy my room and get halfway through Jane Eyre (one of my fave winter books) whilst also planning my Gran's Yule log (I'm making the desserts for her Christmas dinner this year) and managing not to fall over my pathetic limpy foot. And to be honest, I'm planning on not leaving the house (with the exception of dire emergencies like more cream being needed or running out of brie) till we go to visit family on Christmas Eve!

On that note Reader, good night! Hope your dreams are full of mince pies and crackers!
Ash
x

Children steal the covers

Reader, last night my seven year old cousin stayed over (largely to allow her parents to go to a Christmas party) which gave me a taste of what it must be like to have kids. As it's me doing the looking after, of course, there was quite a bit of baking, which mostly involved me making her wash her hands every five minutes because she's got a cough. Also there was lots of 'Can I lick the bowl?' 'No, it's got raw egg in it', 'what about this bowl?' ' That bowl too' 'what about this one?' 'That's got flour in it' 'But can I lick it?' (thinks about it) 'go on then'....'GAH! It tastes horrible!' Life lesson learnt there. Not sure what life lesson, maybe 'not everything in a cake bowl tastes like cake' but I feel like that's some serious parenting right there.

The other thing that came about was that little cousin taught me some life lessons. She tried some cookie dough *what is it about kids having to try everything* and went 'OW' then told me it was far too hot and she'd burnt her tongue. Being a smug grown up, of course, I tried some, only to yelp when my tongue singed. So what life lesson is that 'believe kids when they tell you not to do something'? To be fair, this is the same girl who won't use our loo without someone standing guard outside because there's a mermaid picture in there that freaks her out, she claims when she looked at it, it widened it's eyes at her (she watches a lot of Dr. Who), to try and calm her down, I told her the picture granted wishes, but she just said 'you can have my wish then'. Clever girl.

Because little cousin wanted a proper girly sleepover, we snd set out the sofa bed in the gym, where we watched Hoodwinked (which she loved). The only thing was, little cousin got to sleep pretty early and slept through all night, whereas I was up about four times, checking all the tree lights were off, checking Dad had got in ok, at one point I even got worried the little one might get hypothermia, so I went and got another blanket out to lay on top of us. Clearly little cousin had no such similar concerns for me, as when we woke up in the morning, she had turned herself into a sort of blanket larvae, and I was shivering like a little frost bitten match girl. At which point she was cheeky enough to go 'It was lovely and warm last night, wasn't it Ash?'. No, no it bleeding wasn't. Currently, she's pretending to be a spy with my dad, who's telling her she needs a fake tache as a disguise. She's convinced spying just involves hiding, but she is clearly wrong.

It just reinforces the idea in my head that I don't need to have kids yet. I have more than enough young cousins that I can look after them for a day, get my parenting fix and then pass them back to their parents when I need alone time. Easy peasy. None of this having to sort them out when they misbehave nonsense, just the fun watching cartoons bit.

Also, last night, my friend Kate popped over with her lovely mum and gave me some home made truffles. Am I excited about eating them? I've been thinking of little else since they arrived. Today is my last weigh in before Christmas, which means I can actually enjoy Christmas food from now on! Hurrah!

8 more sleeps till Christmas Reader!
Ash
x

P.s. hopefully you'll be getting the festive cake blog soon!

*Zzzzzzzzz*

Reader, this has been a very long, very busy week. I have been up every day at about 5.30am and most days have not got home till around 10pm. I have been juggling acting work (that's the nice bit, one advert gig and two radio recordings, hurrah!), call centre work, promotions work, hospital appointments and getting ready for Christmas. Now I keep dozing off every few minutes (despite having had a nap earlier today...bliss) and my skin is suffering (I currently look like something in the woods parents warn their kids about) along with my stress levels (ever found yourself swearing at a fork? I have.).

Luckily, this weekend should be a surefire cure, I'm off to pick my Christmas trees with the dad on Saturday, going for my office Christmas party that night (during which I plan to get fabulously tipsy with my work friends in my new eighties style dress), decorating my trees Sunday, watching the muppets Christmas. Bliss. But first I have to get through an aerobics class tomorrow morning. Oh dear. Apart from that it should be pretty perfect though!

This week I've noticed signs that I am ageing quite scarily fast. How do I know this is happening? Well, I've become frequently aware of the commercialisation of Christmas (I had a tantrum because my Advent calender had a door in it that said 'Merry Cadbury Christmas'...you don't need to bloody promote yourselves I'M ALREADY EATING YOUR CHOCOLATE!!! It made me want to stamp on it, but I didn't because that would be a waste of delicious delicious chocolate.) If I had a choice, my Christmases would be Dickensian affairs with candles everywhere and real trees (none of this fake pine crap), there would be carol concerts every night and Christmas films on every channel. To be fair, this is remarkably close to what my family Christmases are like. Bloody marvellous. Although I'm increasingly finding I can't venture to the local shops because I get hulk stylee angry at cartoon character Christmas decorations. There are some things I am willing to overlook. Yes, we all know santa's real clothes are green, and it was his deal with Coca Cola that made them red, but given that not every santa costume has coca cola advertised on the bum, I'm ok with that. Ben Ten tree decorations are just plain wrong, and I'm sorry, but whoever came up with the idea of a Christmas Justin Beiber range needs a good kicking. Ok. That's THAT rant over.

The second reason for knowing I'm getting old is that I've become increasingly aware of customer service. I do work in the service industry, so that probably doesn't help (especially because I'm a stickler for making sure customers get what they asked for), but I get driven mad by bad phone advisers or sales people. I've stopped going to Patisserie Valerie altogether because the service is always so bad, and I've become one of those biddies who complains if she's not altogether delighted with the service and sends a letter of congratulations (with glitter) if people are friendly and quick. Two organisations in particular keep cropping up for me. One is Amazon, for good reasons. Every time I've dealt with Amazon, they've been polite, well meaning and fast. Just today I called them because of a package that hasn't arrived (which turned out to be the fault of Royal Mail) and they were sensational, instantly apologising and arranging for a solution, reducing my irritation by about 250% and leaving me with warm fuzzlies. Then you've got completely the other side, the NHS. You do get the rare gems in there (I have two local GPs who I adore and feel very comfortable with and would go to every time if I could) but for the most part, there is far too much lack of customer care, because yes, we ARE customers, even though we pay through our taxes rather than direct to them. Today was a prime example. I had an appointment at 8.30 in the morning, I turned up at 8.20 (early as ever) then had to wait half an hour to be seen (the nurse didn't even show up till 8.45 and I didn't receive an apology for her lateness, which isn't really even a customer service thing, just a politeness thing). There were cracks in the ceiling, strange Frankenstein style stains down the walls and the waiting area was freezing. Now, don't get me wrong, I am pro-NHS. I think we are very very lucky to live in a country that has a health system through which you don't have to pay for an ambulance or a heart transplant. But it needs improvement. I've been to NHS hospitals that are gorgeous, clean and spacious and full of lovely friendly workers. But there does seem to be a trend with the London ones where standards are slipping, and it isn't good enough. Maybe I should send a letter to someone. Is it too much to ask that the hospital shop sells nice food? Or that there are a couple of magazines for people to read? I don't think so!

Rant over, back to christmas joy and jingle!
Hurrah!
Ash
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Mince pies GET IN MY BELLY!

Oh Reader, today has been, quite frankly, bloody brilliant. It's one of my fave days of the year, the first of december, a day I look forward to for a number of reasons.

a) It's the first day I allow myself to listen to christmas songs on my i-pod. I have a selection which goes on Prunella (my i-pod) every year, and I've been listening to most of them since I was a bubba. There's the Frank Sinatra Christmas album, the Christmas with Bing album, the cheesy christmas hits that everyone gets sick of really early album and a bit of Ella Fitzgerald shoved in there too. The first time I listen to 'the first snowfall of the winter' always makes me go goosepimply, even though due to stupid global warming, this year it's more like the first bit of rank acid rain of the winter.

b) It's the first day I allow myself to eat mince pies. Today I had two. One that I got for free with my Skinny Toffeenut Latte and one Mr. Kipling one (because let's face it, however posh a mince pie is, it'll NEVER be as good as a Mr. Kipling...). I do feel vaguely ill now and as such am skipping dinner (possibly a bad idea as now all I want is chips for breakfast). It was worth it though, every crumb was a genuine delight of crimble brilliance. And they had none of that puff pastry pine ridiculousness (Oh Heston, I love you, but you don't mess with my mince pies man!).

c) I can wear a Santa hat and only be thought marginally odd.

d) Advent calenders! This year The Lad even got one for the cat! The cat ate a couple of treats from today's window and then showed the last one his bum. We think this is a sign of affection.

e) I can feel smug that I made my Christmas pudding's nearly a month ago (Thank you Delia, you utter beauty)

f) People I'm phoning at work have started to panic about their Christmas wine stock, so they're buying loads off me.

Today was also great for a number of other reasons. I got my office Christmas party dress (it's very tight and only has one arm. I look exceptionally 80s. Am considering crimping my hair to add to the effect.) I have never been to a work party before, so I'm very very excited. There will be a bit of free booze and food, and I've been told also a spectacularly cheese tastic dj. I'm hoping it'll be a bit like the Office Christmas special and I'll be like the Ricky Gervais with my awesome old-man-at-a-wedding dancing.

Also, I got another voice acting job for tomorrow, a commercial for Monday and some paid wine tasting too! What brilliance! Then an amazing thing happened (something which truly made me believe my own hype about the 1st of December magic). I get really bad migraines quite often, no one can seem to tell me why, although suggested reasons seem to be my eyesight, the pill, my hormones, my back, my diet, my lack of exposure to the sun, working in front of a computer etc. When I get them, drugs don't seem to be able to touch them, and I just get gradually more and more nauseous until I'm able to sleep. And sometimes that doesn't even work. Today was a bit of a prime example of that, I went to bed last night with a slight headache, it was still there this morning, then it progressed throughout the day until it became a hideous raging monster of a migraine at about 6pm. I began to fret, thinking 'oh bollocks, I'll have to go home early, Lord I feel so so sick, what if I vom on my desk?' when I got a call through to a highly hilarious old man who kept trying to chat me up. Reader, at the beginning of the call I had my head in my arms on my desk, by the end I was crying with laughter! After a long conversation about his family background (his great uncle got sent to Australia for stealing a pair of women's shoes) and cheesy come-on lines ('where would you like your case delivered sir?' 'well if it's you delivering it, straight to the bedroom!' 'How old are you sir?' 'Far older than Pierce Brosnan but better looking!') I noticed my headache had vanished and I was able to carry on with the rest of the shift. Quite frankly Reader, I think it may have been Santa in disguise.

Hope you're enjoying the festive spirit as much as I am!
Ash
x

Oh happy day....

Reader, I am a very positive person. Sometimes to ridiculous amounts. I try my hardest not to be a complainer, or to get too down in the dumps, because in my experience, positive attitudes attract positive results and negative attitudes attract...well, you get the picture. Sometimes, like anyone, I get a case of the blues, but it's very rare, and when it happens I work hard not to dwell on it. I have a cry, then fight my way back into a sunshiney disposition, even if I have to fake it till I discover I actually am happy again (believe it or not, this does work, it's like some kind of placebo!). Which is why I find I have very little sympathy for people who see life through grey tinted glasses. My brother has a tendency towards this, and it's been the cause of many an argument between us, with me  trying to shift him out of a bad mood, him insisting the world is out to get him, me talking about all the lovely things in his life, him talking them down till they sound a bit crap. It usually ends in me throwing a pillow at his head. I have also noticed this at work. We all complain about working in a call centre. It's only natural, it is after all, an incredibly boring job. However, there is a line between good natured 'ugh, this job stinks, I wish I could win the Euro Millions and retire to a small exotic island with a pile of books and a keg of pina colada' and 'This job stinks, I deserve better, I should be getting paid more, I cant take much more of this, how dare they make me try and sell wine to people who don't want it'. Get your head out of your arse. No one likes their job. Apart from maybe Bill Gates. Or Parkinson. And if you hate it that much? Change the job. Go and be a waiter, or a teacher, or a bus driver or an accountant.

Then you get people who just seem to like complaining. There were two women on the train from Chichester the other day who were whining about their high paid publishing jobs; 'Well they DID pay for the hotel, but it was only 4 star, the TV had Virgin rather than Sky and frankly the conference was a bore'. 'Did you get paid extra to go?' 'Oh yes, about 10 grand for 4 days, but it hardly seemed worth it for how bored I was'. I wanted to take them to some of the council flats in Tottenham and show them some of the amazing, cheerful people who live there on jobs that pay less than minimum wage, with three asthmatic kids, a buggered up lock on their door from people trying to break in and a bad case of damp in the walls. What's that old saying? Only boring people get bored. These are usually also the people who, when you say 'oh, how are you?' in a fleeting way, go 'I've been better' or 'Well, I had a crap weekend'. Day in, day out. Never 'Oh, I'm great, isn't it lovely and sunny?' or 'Fabulous! It's only a month till Christmas!'  or even 'Wonderful, it was cold today so I got to wear my favourite gloves'. No wonder they're bored, they don't bother looking for any joy in life!

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying you're not allowed to be down in the dumps. I've been depressed before, I know how hard it is to get out of bed when everything seems bleak. What I do suggest though, is let yourself have a limited amount of time to bask in the misery. There's a difference between clinical depression that needs drugs and possibly therapy and someone just being a moody sod. Interestingly, the people I know with clinical depression are far less willing to force their blues on other people than the moody sods. My trick is that I allow myself one day, or even just a few hours, to indulge in being grumpy, I watch sad films, I eat a family sized bar of dairy milk and some potato waffles, I write incredibly self indulgent diary entries and I may even have a cry to my mum, and then when my 'allotted time' has passed, I force myself to try and be positive and look at the world in a new light. And it works. There have been studies done on the power of positive thinking and it's many benifits. Positive people are the ones that get the jobs, the friends, the great experiences, they even bloody live longer! And they're not positive because of these things, it's all because of the positivity that they have them.

So go out and smile Reader! Go listen to carollers at Covent Garden, eat a mince pie or a Coconut cupcake from Lola's, watch it's a wonderful life, have a duvet day. Be happy! It's a rather nice world out there after all. And you'll live longer. Or something.
Bye for now,
Ash
x
p.s. has anyone noticed I've really got into the christmas spirit?

In which The Lad gets older....

It's a special day today Reader, because The Lad is turning 23. Finally he will be the same age as me (so I won't feel like quite such a cradle snatcher). This may mean that he comes home wearing a suit, talking about his shares in the plastic industry and worrying about a pension and varicose veins, but that's quite unlikely. What's more likely is that he'll come home, get very excited about the prospect of the novelty cake I've made (the theme of which I'm keeping a secret till he sees it, but will post a pic later), glue himself to his Xbox (Skyrim arrived today-there goes my relationship...) and talk about pokemon. He may at some point try to tickle me till I wee a little bit (let's hope not, I hate being tickled) and will go to bed fully clothed like he did the other night (tirednenss? Coldness? I have no idea.).

Tomorrow night we're going to a rather groovy place called The Breakfast club and having lots of cocktails. I'll buy us something cheese covered to eat (or rather, I'll buy HIM something cheese covered. I may have something like that if my weigh in goes to plan, but if not, I'll just stick to the booze). A group of our lovely friends will be coming and hopefully a fabulous night will be had by all. And then the next day, we're playing board games (am slightly concerned he may force us to play the Pokemon game my parents got him, but am hopeful I can distract him with the prospect of snacks). He's quite spoilt really, but given that the poor sod is working 6 day weeks till Christmas, I reckon he quite deserves a bit of spoiling.

You may have noticed I mentioned a weigh in...that's right, I'm trying to lose a couple of cakes worth of lbs. Not so much because I'm lardy at the moment, more because I'm very aware Christmas is coming up, and I'm planning to eat pretty much the whole contents of Marks and Spencers. Particularly their chocolate covered cherries. Christmas has always been about family, cosiness and eating frankly shocking amounts for me, and this year will be no different. In fact, I bet there'll be some competition between me and The Lad on who can eat the most, given that this year will be the first we'll be spending together (am I excited? Yes. Am I a little bit sad that this means I'll have to share my quality street? Yes.). Last year, I got so carried away by mince pies, I had a tiny bit of a melt down the week before christmas when I realised I couldn't fit my arse in a coveted christmas outfit, so this year, I've promised myself that I'll only truly pig out the week of Crimbo. Which means aerobics classes till then, and portions my great grandmother would have spat at. Fun.

So what else is happening? I got made a team leader at work (yay!) which basically means that they trust me to keep people entertained and buy lots of glitter covered signs for our pod (we already have paper chains, a paper snow mountain range and a glittery christmas sign and that's only the beginning. Someone asked me if I wanted to be a kids tv presenter the other day because of all my d.i.y decs!). It's a bit exhausting, means that I have a whole lot less free time now as I spend my mornings buying prizes for competitions and have to come in early for meetings, and I stay late at work making sure everything is properly put away. I feel a bit like a hyperactive mother from the fifties, passing round biscuits and making sure everyone has a nice time. I'm hardly rock and roll sadly, but ah well!

Right loves, I'm off to put on a wash, since most of my clothes are now covered in flour,
Bye!
Ash
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