I actually got a few glimpses of the Queen and the Duke and I’m disappointed now that I didn’t bring my zoom lens camera or a chair. Nevermind. Here are a few to show you – but if any of you out there got some better photos please can you send me yours?:-

Security quite high on the one hand and yet nobody checked any of us:-

The rather gorgeous Mr Goldsmith:-

The skies before the first hailstorm:-

It’s MAY for goodness sake:-

Princess Alexandra:-

Sir David Attenborough – the only one without an umbrella – but then again he’s used to it:-

Lovely Jubilee crowd:-

They’re Here!!

Another mum took this one:-

This one is funny – looks like the man to the right has a very long tie on:-

Not the best photo but at least I’ve got them together AND the mayor of Richmond (I think):-

Strolling about in the hail and rain with her see-through umbrella:-

This means that we (“We” being our collective grown up gap year team – GUGY – or should we be OAP’s – Old Age Partygoers?) have found somewhere spectacular to add to the list of places to go when we’ve got our act together (aka got rid of our children for a minute).

He sent me an email with lots of words like “amazing” in it and said that Ha Long Bay was one of the seven natural wonders of the world and that I should blog about it. “Really?” I thought to myself. Did I actually miss that? Anyway, I’ve done some research and Ha Long Bay is in fact a UNESCO World Heritage Site and a popular travel destination (and not just for the booze cruise my son went on), located in Quang Ninh province in Vietnam.

Absolutely stunning scenery with thousands of limestone protrusions and isles in various sizes and shapes. The limestone in this bay has gone through 500 million years of formation in different conditions and environments.

Just look at these photos he sent me:-

….and just to prove that I am sort of joking about what he is getting up to, here are a few photos that make me very proud (and loads that don’t – but I’m not showing you those):-

“Which Queen was that?” she asked me.

“Queen Victoria” I laughed, but secretly I was hugely offended, naturally.

Yesterday they tested the very loud music system during my daughter’s GCSE exams.

Today all the roads are completely blocked because the park is shut and many children trying to get to school were delayed. I had to make my children walk in the rain because I was stuck. Normally not too bad a thing, but she’s got her Biology GCSE this morning so it just seemed such a shame to not be able to keep her calm.

There will be more music during the exams.

Sometimes, I just don’t think the Queen knows what us mere mortals have to go through just so that she can come and visit us.

Thank you so much to all those who sponsored us so far – we’ve raised over £1,000 already so I’m very pleased. Hopefully they will reach their target of £1 million this year.

Just coming up to Hammersmith and following a pink wigged walker:-

Don’t the goody bags look fab (and the official photographer – my friend’s daughter):-

Gloria Hunniford giving an incredibly moving speech about why we were all there and how grateful she is to us all for helping support other families dealing with cancer:-

I was about to add a photo of my blisters and another my friend sent me of her bruised-soon-to-fall- off-toenail, but I suspect you might be sick. So I won’t.



Never mind. I’ll get through it. As always. Buoyed up by the vast swell of pink (mostly) women to raise money for breast cancer research in two charities:- Breakthrough and The Caron Keating Foundation. Hopefully this year’s walk will see the million pound fundraising target broken. It is vital that we continue to take some positive steps (even if it involves toenails falling off) to help eradicate Breast cancer.

This will be the ninth year I have walked – that is every year since it’s inception and since that time I have had a very young beautiful friend die of breast cancer, another mother I know die, three other people dealing with it at present and my lovely friend who I’m walking with (who has only missed one out of all the walks so far) who had a mastectomy 18 months ago. Last year we walked together and the day after she had to go under the knife again for further reconstruction at the Royal Marsden. I was concerned about her walking such a distance, given she was going to have to have a general anaesthetic the next day but she said that it would be a good excuse to have a little rest. Now she is completely healthy and looks better than she has ever done before.

Just today I have heard about another woman I have known in our area for years going through chemotherapy. Too many.

The year Jo was meant to walk – Sally took her place and we walked together:-

Here is what my friend wrote about her experience a while ago:-

I am 42 years old and the mother of four daughters who are 15, 14, 12 and 4. In June 2010 I was probably fitter than I had ever been as I had been training for a marathon. I can remember thinking how well I felt then which is fairly ironic looking back. One evening as I took off my bra I noticed a tiny, dark brown spot in the bra cup, I honestly didn’t think much of it and assumed I may have dropped a little bit of my favourite Green and Black’s chocolate down my front as I am such a clumsy eater! The next day I wore a different bra but noticed it again and then the next day and the next. It became obvious that my nipple had some sort of discharge and so I booked a Doctor’s appointment, at that time it never even crossed my mind that it might be particularly sinister.
The Doctor thought it was probably nothing but I was referred to my local breast clinic. My friend Lucy came with me and the first thing I noticed was that the clinic was absolutely full to bursting. I waited for ages to be seen and then when I finally was the Doctor was charming, reassuring and very calm. He sent off a sample of the nipple discharge and said I should return a week later. When I went back the following week he said that there were some abnormal cells in the discharge but he wanted to do a biopsy of the nipple duct and thought that by removing the duct there would be no further problem.
I was seen very quickly and efficiently – almost on a weekly basis. This is what impressed me so much about the NHS care I was given. From discovery of the discharge to the removal of the duct took about three weeks. Despite the huge number of women that were at the clinic every time I went, the speed that my case was dealt with was remarkable.

I returned to the clinic alone for the biopsy results, I told my husband and friends that I would be fine as I was so confident that once the duct had been removed there would be no need for further treatment – how wrong I was! My consultant didn’t really beat about the bush he just said the biopsy showed that there were cancer cells in the duct and that it was called DCIS (Ductal Carcinoma in Situ). I remember feeling very calm initially but when the breast cancer care nurse came and took me to another room to call my husband, the enormity of what I had just been told slowly began to sink in.
After a further biopsy of the other ducts in my left breast I went back to see my consultant again. This time my husband came with me. From the moment I walked in and saw the look in my consultant’s eyes, I knew it wasn’t going to be great news. This time he told me that the whole breast had extensive DCIS and would therefore have to be removed and how sorry he was, but that the prognosis was good if I had the surgery. As I sat nursing a coffee afterwards I recall holding my husband’s hand as he sobbed, whilst I calmly reassured him everything would be fine. Isn’t it funny how we all deal with things differently?

I had my mastectomy in mid September. It was a six hour operation done by a fantastic plastic surgeon and his team at the Marsden. They took fat from my stomach in a “tummy tuck” style operation and moved it to my left breast which was reconstructed at the same time. Within 12 hours I was up and about – I remember feeling self- conscious at my lack of make-up and looking so utterly revolting, so even though I had a 21 inch scar around my tummy I decided to paint my toe nails just so I could feel a bit more normal!

Since then I have had two more operations to reconstruct my nipple and I am now waiting for my tattoo to be done which is basically around the areolae area to create a sort of trompe l’oeil type of effect…. should be interesting – never thought I would get a tattoo!

This might sound a bit weird but all in all it has been a very positive experience. I know I was lucky. I was lucky to have had a sign that something was wrong so early that it could be dealt with quickly. I even think how if it had been in the winter months and I was wearing a black bra instead of a cream one – I wouldn’t necessarily have spotted the discharge. I was lucky too that once I had my mastectomy done I didn’t need further treatment. I know so many people who have had radiotherapy, chemotherapy and are on Tamoxifen in addition to the surgery. My surgeon is a complete genius and has created a wonderful new breast that looks incredible. I was in a bikini lying on a beach four months after my surgery – admittedly I did have big pants on as my scar is rather wide but you would never really know otherwise.

And so for all the awful, heart wrenchingly painful stories that you might have read about breast cancer…. please remember there are so many positive ones too. Naturally I did have my dark moments – usually when I was putting my little three year old to bed and as I kissed her soft, sweet smelling hair goodnight I would wonder if I would be there for her as she grew up. But there is nothing more life affirming than having children and they have given me more strength than they will ever know…


Here we are together on the walk last year:-

Please donate if you can. We have a just giving page and I’d really appreciate your support:-

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/team/samlucynicky

In my worryingly domesticated role I have also had to be paying close attention to my newly spayed cat. Ridiculous really – his very simple operation turned into something three times as expensive because one of his testicles hadn’t dropped. “Can’t you just wait for it to drop?” I queried…”well, no not really because we’ve scanned him (how much is a scan?) and his testicle is in his abdominal cavity and if you leave it there it may well turn into a tumour”…..really? So. I agreed to open heart surgery on a small ginger moggy to remove an ingrowing testicle. At vast expense. This cat has been the most expensive Christmas present ever.

Tonight my house looks again like a bomb site – all my daughter’s art is due in tomorrow and therefore it’s glue city here as she puts the finishing touches to her art books. I shall have a ceremonial burning of tubes of paint tomorrow and probably end up in hospital with noxious fume disease. It’s all quite peaceful here though. I’ve lost my home phone somehow in the house and even ringing it doesn’t work. Still, given that it’s only ever rung by my mother and strangers in India I don’t really mind. Funny how redundant landlines are becoming in life.

I’m not even going to get a break this weekend. The children are going to their fathers but I am teaching on Saturday and doing the Pink Power Walk on Sunday – my 16 mile breast cancer charity walk which I have done no training for. Which means my toenails will probably fall off and my hips will break. I haven’t even had time to put up my just giving page in case anyone would like to sponsor me. I’ve got to go tomorrow evening and help get all the goody bags put together. Some lovely girl guides have offered to do the job. So maybe I’ll wait till that’s underway and take photos and then put it all in one post. I am SO pleased with the goody bags – such a lot of brilliant loot – I’ll show you it all tomorrow. Trust me, it will make you want to walk next year, just to get one….

Just as an aside – this week so far I have been aware of five different mentions of the new “mummy porn” book “Shades of Grey”. One of my clients is reading it for their book group book, a girlfriend has just finished it and told me it was awful and I’ve read three articles about it…..tempting. Especially in an effort to throw off my new Alpha cloak (or perhaps I should keep it on and just read it underneath).



That, to be honest is all I ask for in a partner – I don’t think that is too much to ask is it? That and maybe own teeth & hair, good shoes, fit body, youth, cool car, loads of money and a good sense of humour.

I AM NOT TRAVELLING. I AM SITTING HERE IN MY LITTLE HOUSE WITH MY CHILDREN. My daughter is behind me doing maths revision. She’s listening to someone on her computer – I thought that someone said “Let’s Talk About Sex” which perked me up a little on this cold rainy day but actually she said “Let Talk About Sets“. Boring. I am reduced to talking about failed washing attempts with the woman in the school uniform shop where i had to go and spend a fortune this morning replacing all my son’s ruined stuff. Just to add to my general glow of happiness she said to me “well, don’t worry, at least you didn’t ruin anything valuable – imagine if you’d washed all your husband’s expensive white shirts at the same time!!” and I said “I haven’t got one of those” – “What? A white shirt?” she asked me……”no, a husband”. Then the poor thing didn’t know what to say even though I tried to look not too miserable.

Anyway.

I had my youngest son’s parents evening last night and lets just say it might be an idea to suggest that the honour of being a travel blog finalist should be passed on to somebody else more worthy because I am clearly never going to be able to go out again. I realise that only he can change his attitude to school and sort it all out and that it is not in my job description to go to school with him every day and make sure he presents himself in a highly impressive light on every level – but if I could, I would.

I need a magic wand. To transport my house and it’s contents – including my children obviously, but maybe not our old fat cat and annoying new kitten (who has come back from the vets sans bollocks looking alarmingly perky – he’s wearing a “bull collar” – cone like thing that makes them walk backwards, bump into things and generally go mad and has already broken two glasses – suspect loss of testosterone is going to make very little difference to him. Although my daughter tells me that it doesn’t just happen overnight as the hormones are still in his blood and it will happen over time) …..somewhere warm and lovely.

If you had a magic wand where would you transport yourself? Where, if you could move your house would you want to be? What would the view be like from your window? Or maybe you are blissfully happy and would stay right where you are? In which case send me your favourite view. Best room with a view??

I want to go back to when we were living in Hong Kong and sit on the balcony and look at the view. Here is a very bad photo taken from my parents album circa 1980 when there wasn’t much going on down in Aberdeen from our view on The Peak:-

My friend Sally replied today via Facebook and she has sent me several pictures of where she wishes she was – her pictures are so great that I’m putting them here as well as in the slideshow:-

Her first picture is of the Northern lights at Brookside Close in Oregon:-

Then she wishes she was still in Manchester, feeding her youngest child in a suitcase – aaaah:-

Her gorgeous baby boy – on solids already, I can’t believe it:-

and here he is on set amusing himself and everyone else by wearing a wig:-

Tell me what you’d like to be looking at right now. So that I can dream a little. Add a photo or two if you want:-

(*Please ensure you fill out all the fields below – max image size 750 x 750 px)

[Show as slideshow]

Don’t know what that means….

BUT I DON’T CARE….I’M A FINALIST (which sounds remarkably similar to I’m a Mentalist)….

Think there are proper judges now to decide what happens next.

Gulp.