My windsurfing adventure

Windsurfing is not usually the best thing to do if you have a severe lack of coordination and balance, however I am not one to shy away from a challenge.

And a challenge it was when I went to Poole to take part in a windsurfing lesson with Joe.

This time though the tale does not end in a hospital visit, and the only injury I have is a bruised and slightly swollen knee.

Maybe this means that my balance is getting better? Though the amount of time I spent in the water instead of on the board may contradict this!

When we arrived at the watersport academy we were immediately handed a wet suit to put on.

Here I would like to smugly add that I got mine on the right way, while Joe had merrily put his on the wrong way round with the zip going up the front.

I feel I can gloat about this, as I am usually the one who gets things wrong!

With the wetsuits properly in place we headed down to the lake for a lesson in how the different parts of the board worked.

Maybe I should have paid attention to this, as it would have saved a lot of confusion later.

In my defence I was distracted by an ice-cream van that passed us.

So with our knowledge of the board complete (well Joe’s anyway) we paddled out into the lake dragging the boards.

Looking at the board I couldn’t see it being that hard to stand up on, so I leapt on it....landing face down in the lake approximately 3 seconds later.

This happened again too many times to count until I proudly stood on the board in a crouched position determinedly not moving for around five minutes.

Joe meanwhile had taken to it a lot easier, and was able to surf a short distance.

Now our instructor Steve decided that I was ready (?!) to try and surf and shouted instructions like ‘left foot by mast’ and ‘right foot behind centre board’.

I felt this was the time to point out that I have trouble telling my left and right, andI hadn’t been listening earlier and so didn’t have a clue what he was talking about!

There was one thing I can say for Steve is that he does not give up, and he was determined to get me up and surfing by the end of the lesson.

He achieved this by pulling the sail along as I stood on the board holding on tight. But he said I can count this as windsurfing!

So now that I am a windsurfing expert I am looking at other sports to try.

Kite surfing looks fun, though Steve went pale when I suggested it and said I needed a bit more windsurfing practice first!

Why I am never helping my brother move house again!

Moving house is always a challenging time, even more so when it involves my family.

My brother Jon has almost finished a placement year at University, and was moving from one house to another in Bristol.

Being the good sister I am, and sensing the opportunity for brownie points, I offered to help.

When I said help, I didn’t think I would be doing almost all the packing on the actual day.

Now what is it about boys inability to pack in advance?

I entered the house expecting to see it bare except for a line of neatly packed boxes, the sight that greeted me was very different.

Wet clothes were draped across airers as he had picked this convenient moment to do some washing.

Heading upstairs I saw a bedroom that looked as if it hadn't been touched for weeks, complete with empty water bottles, mountains of paperwork, and wires connecting his many electrical devices.

But it was ok, he cheerfully told me, as he had managed to pack a holdall full of socks and his XBox.

The look on mum’s face was a pure Kodak moment, and we decided it would be easier to just do it ourselves.

The packing was relatively simple, chuck all of his ‘stuff’ into bags and into the car.

Jon likes to keep everything incase it may be needed again. And I mean everything, from year old receipts to a miniature skittles set that had come out of a cracker and countless wires.

However, I was unaware of the trauma awaiting me in the kitchen.

On cleaning out his food cupboard I was not expecting to pick up a bag of onions so past their sell by date that they were growing shoots, and dripping brown sludge everywhere.

A few choice words and a very through hand wash later and I was ready to head to the other house to unload.

This went more smoothly than the packing, probably because I left him to get on with it and flaked out on the sofa.

Now Jon is settled into his new place for the next year. And when the question of moving comes up again I will be washing my hair.

Time for a new pet!

I have decided that the time has come to for me to get a new pet.

Since I lost my goldfish Weasley last year I feel as if something is missing in my life, and am now set on the idea of a new addition to the family (no dad not one of the human kind, before you panic!)

I have been doing a lot of thinking about what pet I should get, with many of my suggestions being rejected by my very patient boyfriend Joe.

According to him a baby elephant would not be practical, as it would not stay small for long.

Similarly dolphins, pandas and sea horses were also rejected - though I thought they were all great ideas!

Hamster was on the list of possibilities, but I have been there done that.

As children my brother, sister and I begged our parents for hamsters, and were delighted when they bought us three Russian ones.

My little Cement – named because he was the colour of cement - proved very entertaining.

During the few years we had the hamsters there were fights between them, and arguments over who would clean out their smelly cages, a task that almost always fell to mum or dad.

There was also the time when my sisters hamster Smokey was flung across the room by mum after he bit her finger and wouldnt let go. Luckily he survived to tell the tale, and the RSPCA did not need to get involved.

So with hamsters, and other animals whose cages I would have to clean out, off the list I feel I have come up with a brilliant idea.....ducks!

So taken am I with this idea that I have even decided on their names, Doris and Douglas (known as Dougie for short)

The problem just remains where do I keep them?

My mum is very particular with her garden, which currently sports hundreds of solar lights, stone animals and a bird table, so digging up her lawn to put in a pond may not go down well.

Joe lives in a flat, with no garden for my ducks, so I am thinking of a blow up pool in his living room?!

I already think I know the answer, but until he actually says no (a few times) I think the plan could go ahead!