The information given on the profile page I have created is specifically tailored towards the users of the site, and so far has worked perfectly in sorting the wheat from the chaff, albeit highlighting an awful lot of chaff and barely enough wheat to make even a lone crumpet. Plus, the wheat tend to have the nous for a spot of Googling and generally end up here where we are now; for those who do not, I had intended to provide a link directly from here to there by way of improving international relations and offering a useful insight into the Way We Do Things Round Here.

This, however, despite fulfilling all of the requirements as far as I could see (basically having one of their banners planted within three mouseclicks and to this end, I added one especially to my homepage which can be reached via About Amy) was apparently not allowed, and after a couple of email queries which elicited nothing more than tenously linked stock replies, I gave up and started a separate one on the very site. Quite what I hope to achieve by this I do not rightly know, but since it seemed like a good idea at the time (and having seen some of the others, I envisage that opportunities for taking the piss will be ripe and plentiful), I have placed a link on the right here for anyone who wants to have a look, although many of you will recognise the latest entry from this very spot and those who, like me, are prone to a little self indulgent nostalgia may enjoy another read. Anyways, the plan is to eventually synchronise the two, but for the time being there will be extra little snippets for those who want them and why not?

On to this week and after several months of procrastination and dithering (OK, a couple of years, or pretty much since I finally moved into my not-quite-luxury-but-getting-there apartment on South Cliff), I have decided to take the bull by the horns and join my local gym, partly in the interests of getting out and about in a rather more active fashion then pottering languidly around the food hall, but also because the temptation of having a sauna, steam room and spa treatments suite a scant five minute walk away had become too much for me to ignore. It is truly surprising how quickly being confined to base can become cabin-feveresque, and the chance to turn my back on paint, dust and laundry as well as the endless admin, enquiry-sorting and scouting of train tickets/hotels/new places to obtain fancy G cup bras was too good to miss. Plus, most excitingly of all, there is absolutely NO mobile signal whatsoever…

I have today been for my ‘induction’, whereupon curious and intriguing equipment was demonstrated, forms were filled in and an exercise plan composed before getting down to the serious business of a few freestyle (being a latecomer to swimming, this comprises my unique breast stroke and dogpaddle combo) laps in the pool followed by an hour in the prone position enjoying the heat of the sauna, the blanket of eucalyptus-scented fog in the steam room and the scurrilous unmitigated cack of the Daily Mail (all that was left). Having returned home suitably refreshed, I have decided that second hand paperbacks would seem to be a worthwhile addition to the kit list, along with clean knickers, hair conditioner, pound coins for the lockers and a Caramac for the walk home.

Those who are appreciative of a pleasingly soft and curvy lady need not fear; I have no intention of ever resembling the type of skinny, muscular gym body types and anyway, there are only so many hours in the day. I have scientifically(ish) calculated the amount of extra food my new pastime will allow me to consume daily and am pleased to report that my findings are very encouraging, both for me and the people who make Frazzles, Nutella and my favourite, the never-surpassed Iced and Spiced Soft Bun from Marks and Spencer. And I will hopefully be brighter, fitter and more flexible, although I may also smell intermittently of chlorine.

I will keep reports on my progress updated! Meanwhile, my availability over the coming days will depend on my ability to get out of bed unaided …wish me luck.

As much as I would like to have stayed to enjoy a few more hours in this lovely city, it was not to be and the opportunity to sneak in a return trip to the SS Great Britain, which has taken over from Battersea Power Station as number one of my list of current favourite permanent(ish) structures (along with, needless to say, the Clifton Suspension Bridge which I was lucky enough to see on the way out for dinner with a much missed old acquaintance yesterday evening) was lost. My entry ticket, however, is valid for a year and since I have been planning a more in-depth investigation of the South West for some time I daresay I will be back, if only to get another look at the engine and propeller plus maybe weaken just enough to buy a little model ship and Brunelesque stovepipe hat in the gift shop.

The beautiful ship is worth a special mention, having just celebrated the fortieth anniversary of her return to Bristol from the Falkland Islands, incredibly being pulled 8000 miles on an enormous pontoon without any real incident (although judging by the photographs, looking a little the worse for wear in much the same dignified way as all the grandest of ladies are wont to do following a difficult and lengthy international journey). I myself have not forgotten my snarling, wild-eyed, Captain Caveman-like appearance when I finally made it home after being awake and travelling for almost thirty six hours in order to get back from Shanghai a few years ago – a bit of rust, a few cracks in the hull and the odd barnacle are trivial details by comparison, believe me. She now rightly resides gracefully in dry dock in the Great Western Dockyard where she was built and launched in 1843, and is well worth a visit if, like me, you are particularly impressed by very large mechanical devices and also like me are secretly (or not-so-secretly) a bit of a transport and engineering anorak.

My stay also included my first ever visit to the supermarket leviathan that was the local ASDA, which resembled an airport and exhausted me completely with food-variety overload; strange though it may seem I honestly do not believe I have ever shopped at one of these, fortunate as I am to have local shops a couple of minutes walk away and a moderately sized Tesco with a delightful view from the car park not too much further. A couple of bags of shopping for my visit took over an hour to seek out, although once the initial shell shock wore off, the experience was not unpleasant as such, although I will be very happy to return to normality and the cool, reassuring embrace and lack of confusing variety in Costcutter, Marks and Spencer and the fruit and veg stall in the precinct.

After repeated prior warnings about the rain proved to be entirely valid, I spent a wet Tuesday night at the pictures following a cancellation (and I can highly recommend Toy Story 3, especially being smugly in the know now about the special glasses after my Final Destination 3D experience in London a few months back, when I discovered that removing my own prescription ones predictably hindered viewing and it was indeed necessary to wear both) although this did not save me from getting drenched on at least three other occasions and the torrential downpour on Wednesday afternoon in particular was deafeningly loud and insistent enough to distract my companion and I, although not for very long, and a fine time was hopefully had by all.

Visit over, I left my accommodation promptly before ten, and having still found no practical solution to my suitcase problem, action was needed; thus here I am, £52 lighter after springing for a new train ticket but otherwise cheerful as ever and looking forward to home, goldfish and yes, more DIY. I will be back in Scarborough for around 4pm today and business will be as usual from tomorrow – I am particularly happy to be welcoming back a couple of particularly lively and charming gentlemen before my Glasgow trip and Thursday daytime/Friday afternoon and evening are already fully booked. I will also be continuing the finishing-off bits of the bathroom and beginning the hallway, so once again, reasonable warning please! I am told the school holidays have now begun and appreciate that plans can change very quickly but if we have not met before, please be aware that as much as I would like to, I do not lounge about all day beguilingly attired in lingerie eating Charbonnel & Walker Violet Creams and if you could see the state of my work-in-progress apartment, you would soon realise why.

New photos on the way (along with woodworm updates, for those who have asked)! Watch this space…

Unfortunately I have also had guests of the uninvited variety – Anobium Punctatum, or the common furniture beetle; yes, a woodworm by any other name is still a woodworm. More fortunately, my aforementioned two-legged visitor happens to be (amongst other things) an expert in these matters and has reassured me that the little bastards are unlikely to eat my apartment, confined as they seem to have been to a single picture frame containing one of my favourite acquisitions. Apparently they like plywood.

Chemical warfare was sought out and purchased, newspaper laid, all doors closed – the treatment is lethal to aquarium fish and needless to say I have been fretfully worrying about the fumes all weekend, despite wearing two pairs of gloves for spraying and changing clothes (well, pyjamas) afterwards.  The beloved objects of my concern have been happily digging in the gravel, stuffing themselves with thawed out bloodworm and showing no signs of distress whatsoever, completely oblivious to the unpleasant business in the very next room and I believe I have got off fairly lightly, although I will be repeating the treatment in a few weeks just to be on the safe side. Once again, the glamour value of my daily existance is unequivocably proven …to be not much, although I did recklessly celebrate until I felt a bit sick with a very fetching array of smart Belgian chocolates presented to me by a kindly caller early in the week.

Bathroom news and the job is almost finished; among other things I have this week successfully and without incident put together a flatpack cabinet in under two hours, bought fixtures, framed prints and lovely new towels and discovered that silicone lubricant is superb for removing excess mastic from hands. Who knew? The next main-ish job will be underway shortly, but is unlikely to affect day to day operations bar a day or two where someone other than me is going to be wallpapering – needless to say I will keep things up to date here.

I know that some have already noticed the ‘QUESTIONS’ box to the upper right, and whilst I am the first in line to cynically denounce the likes of Facebook and (God forbid) Twitter, Formspring.me is proving more interesting, any and all questions are genuinely welcomed and I can say with complete confidence that they WILL be answered! The only exceptions (and I admit to deleting two so far, but it’s early days) are those which are so badly composed as to be unreadable; text speak is surely not an appropriate way to address a complete stranger and since I do not reply to booking enquiries written thus, I’m afraid I will not be spending my free time trying to decipher and respond to sentences with no vowels, structure or discernable purpose. A little effort reaps rewards. Honest.

To this week and Bristol – I will be preparing and packing tomorrow; there are pockets of availability left but not many, and I am planning visits to the Clifton Suspension Bridge and hopefully the zoo (although since discovering that there is no Left Luggage at Temple Meads, my plans for kicking up my heels and making a day of things on Friday have been curtailed somewhat). I will be back in Scarborough next weekend, and here for a week before heading off to Glasgow.

Back to the toolbox lingerie drawer for some gentle stocking-pairing (or whatever it is people think I do all day long). Until next week…

Anyway, I digress; to business and a brief update for this week and weekend. Due to unforeseen circumstances I will not now be available at all from Thursday 15th to Saturday 17th July inclusive – there may be limited availability on Sunday. Anyone wanting a Bristol appointment is advised to make contact before the weekend (I will be answering correspondence as usual on the days listed above, but will not be taking calls, so emails only please).

London is also filling up and preparation is underway for the next dates, those who have missed out this time (sorry) need not despair!

Back soon…

My average monthly expense sheet is so often filled with entries like ‘Tea and Hula Hoops – £2.00‘, rather than (for example) the infinitely more grand ‘La Perla raw silk peignoir, £350′ (although the days when I could fit even one finger into anything from the aforementioned were gone by the time I turned nine) that I occasionally suspect that I may be not quite keeping to my side of the glamour bargain supposedly beloved of ladies of reasonable means. I have always thus been tempted to save myself the trouble and dump the small-change, finicky bits in the blue recycling bag along with the junk mail and empty tissue boxes, being as I am often unsure of quite when an engaging thriftiness becomes downright tightarse. Now I remember why I don’t. Yay!

Naturally I have celebrated by purchasing many new items, and am planning some more photographs in earnest – the bright weather will not last forever and the lovely natural light has always been my favourite key ingredient. The sunshine has still not let up in weeks, it seems and I have often been out and about enjoying the warmth and fresh air from beneath a carefully applied coating of coconut-scented Hawaiian Tropic Factor 50 – following the unholy pink colour and murderously stinging shoulders I acquired just strolling around Edinburgh on that first really hot weekend a couple of months ago, I have no intention of being caught out again and all excursions out of doors are being carefully prepared for (at home I am far more lackadaisical, being happy to stick to Factor 15 and just keep away from the windows).

This afternoon I am heading off on a leisurely Big(ish) Shop in preparation for what is beginning to look like a surprisingly busy week interspersed with more decorating and the World Cup final tomorrow night. Inspired by both the football and my Borough Market tapas last week I will be hoping to later create some Spanish-style delights myself (incidentally for a foolproof recipe that would make Popeye weep see here – I speak as a staunch and unrepentant carnivore) and am looking forward to wallowing hedonistically in an oily, garlicky, lemon scented and paprika-spiked utopia for much of the remainder of the day weekend.

I may also grudgingly buy some Edam, just in case.

Even my plump and lazy goldfish have been invigorated by the good weather, swimming about excitedly (if wonkily due to lack of practice) every time they are so much as waved at and I will not be following their enthusiastic example, instead spending the remainder of the week gently pottering about and catching up on the usual day to day tasks – unpacking, laundry and yet more decorating*, although the apartment is definitely taking real shape now and the now-legendary New Bathroom project is now almost complete barely a year in (although true to form, the grout still needs a tidy up). The heat has made all forms of physical activity bar the obvious particularly unappealing, and the thought of more ceiling-painting has been sending shudders up my spine, but I have so far managed to gamely battle on, aided by nakedness, a cheap desk fan and a family size box of choc ices.

I have also had chance whilst in London to meet the artist lady mentioned previously, and collect the first of my pair of newly embroidered artworks ‘Bug Balls’ – the second, ‘Moth Balls’, will follow it here in a year or so leaving me with a temporary dilemma of whether to hang its companion and where, solved for the moment by placing it securely on the mantlepiece for all to see (insect-phobic types had probably best avoid). All in all, one of my better weeks and only really let down by an eagerly-anticipated meeting with a lovely lady friend being called off due to car trouble, but fortunately no-one was stranded and we will hopefully be catching up with cake and gossip on my next visit.

To the coming week and I will be available-ish, although I have been planning some new outdoor photographs which may or may not be taken on Thursday or Friday – locations have been scouted and hopefully the popular ‘logpile’ set from a year ago will be updated soon. I am also running out of appointments on my Bristol trip in two weeks’ time – there are some gaps left on the Thursday daytime but availability is all but gone, and I am looking forward to my visit very much. In the meantime, business as usual and hopefully the occasional cool breeze – the visitors are starting to appear and the traffic is already horrendous at weekend-times, so drivers are advised to set off in good time (and it’ll get worse before it gets better) and be prepared for delays; I will be waiting with bottled water and a nice cold flannel if needed. Roll on December…

*Whilst we’re on the subject of decorating, the image below is detail from the extremely smart and tasteful wallpaper hanging in a certain hotel restaurant. Click on it and look closely.

Unfortunately it also means that the racks of lovely tiered, smocked, and cheerily floral printed dresses available as far as the eye could see were completely unsuitable, all being at least four inches too long and in trying just dragged about the floor in my wake. Admittedly my friendly seamstress up the road would have had no trouble altering the length but the momentum was lost, and crestfallen, I shuffled sadly into the final port of call (my teenage favourite Miss Selfridge), whereupon I unexpectedly walked straight into a sale rack containing a lone size 12 maxi from their Petite range in beautiful soft rose-printed cotton, which fit perfectly and only cost forty five quid. Once established that I was definitely awake and the clothing gods had smiled on me, I celebrated immediately over the road in the Marks and Spencer food hall, home of the celestial Iced & Spiced Soft Bun and where my favourite microwaveable dim sum are currently three packs for a fiver; having now returned home to eat sweet-chilli-dipped prawn dumplings in my pyjamas and watch football on television, in the unlikely event that a branch of the Hummingbird Bakery is about to open next door to my apartment (or better still, in it) it would probably have been the perfect Sunday. Or at least, as anyone who has also been watching the football will know, it was.

On to travel news, and I have been busy making arrangements for my next few visitings; I will be landing in Glasgow on the first of August for a couple of days of exploring indoors and out, and have arranged my next London dates shortly after on the eighteenth. Since I will be persona non grata at my usual digs in Pimlico until the temperature drops a bit, I will be staying – fear not – in a spanking-new (and anyone wanting to test this theory is welcome to do so) and decidedly swanky-looking 4 star hotel close to Waterloo and judging by the maps almost overlooking the London Eye, although as anyone who has ever stayed in a city centre hotel knows, the premium attribute known as ‘View’ has far less to do with the building’s location than it has to do with the positioning of the windows and I cannot be the only person to have excitedly dashed to open the curtains of a nicely appointed place only to be face to face with a brick wall, the rubbish bins or most memorably, the DLR.

To this week – I will be in Scarborough for prebooked incalls each day except Tuesday, and whilst there are visitors dotted evenly throughout, I am not envisaging an activity-filled week and will be out and about enjoying the weather now that the number of World Cup games per day is down to a more sensible level. Therefore as ever, short notice appointments will be even less available than usual (if such a thing were possible) and please do not be surprised to find that I am answering the telephone from a location other than my living room, or that it is being switched off strictly at 8pm. The quantity of ‘NR’ (non reader) numbers in my mobile is currently increasing at a hellish pace, and whilst I appreciate that the people who would fall into that category are the least likely to be reading this, it is becoming a real pain and since one of the greatest benefits of the wonderful world of self-employment is deciding one’s own hours, I am saving them the trouble.

Next stop – the beach!

It may interest some to know that the aforementioned site began a new, albeit voluntary ‘scheme’ on Monday 21st June with the apparent intention (under the predictable guise of protecting the underaged, amongst other things) of gathering enough personal information from those advertising to clone their identities in five minutes flat, in return for the dubious honour of attaining ‘Verified’ status on their tawdry directory. I cannot imagine that many responsible adults would be falling over themselves to furnish an unregistered offshore company with no legal obligations whatsoever (in terms of having to comply with any niggly UK company and Data Protection legislation) with copies of their passport, in addition to their address and bank details (for those who use the credits system), but I most certainly will not be doing so – if my well-earned reputation, all positive feedback and reviews on other, credible sites is not enough for them then they are welcome to remove me from their database along with all the others blessed with the common-sense gene. It doesn’t take a genius to work out what kind of delights will be left.*

Given that the amount of genuine business I receive via the ‘other site’ is sporadic at best, in the event of this shameful crock becoming compulsory I am certainly in a better position then some and after today’s farcical carryings-on, I remember why. The good folk, God love ‘em, who actually take the time to carefully read and digest my proper site (including even the most self indulgent of rants and excitable babblings published over here) more than make up for the small percentage of crass, witless numpties and after all, I know from other ladies that I suffer these far less than many. They can do their thing (if exchanging grainy mobile phone pictures of one’s genitals can be legitimately described as a ‘thing’) and we’ll get on with doing ours, which is after all not that different, just with better spelling and regular changes of linen. I’ll even throw in a virtually cast-iron opportunity to extend, since the next visitor is far more likely to be arriving twenty-four hours after you than twenty-four minutes.

So (eventually) plenty of fun and games was had by all in this surprisingly fabulous hotel, whose improbably huge and luxurious guest rooms (Bose ipod dock, anybody?) and superb location belied its Travellodge-esque nightly rate which I confess had prompted slight misgivings, despite a word of mouth recommendation from a lovely lady I know whose home I have never visited but I imagine is equally nicely appointed and probably smells of apples, new carpets and Pledge. The accommodation and all its facilities were a triumph and I left for my Other Business this morning relaxed and fighting fight, the sheer luxury of air conditioning being the highlight following my four day impromptu saunathon in Pimlico only two weeks ago. And so to here, my familiar corner on the train, but since we will be negiotiating the Pennines very soon and the signal will disappear completely I will fill in the gaps (particularly regarding Other Business) next time.

Lastly though, and worthy of a separate mention is the other supposed ‘perk’ of complying with Adultwork’s ridiculous request; the hitherto-forbidden grubby opportunity for advertisers to comb through the profile pages of those SEEKING services in their locale with a view to sending intrusive, tacky and most importantly, unsolicited communication. This may appeal to the resident desperados, but is unlikely to do much for their unsuspecting targets given that their details (including information revealing if and when they have paid to view private galleries, and any field reports they have written) until Monday were rightly kept private and not available for public scrutiny – to any gentlemen who would understandably prefer they remained that way it is possible to opt out, and I would strongly recommend that you do. What will they think of next? Can’t wait.

* To the hard-of-thinking who are excitedly orchestrating the virtually limitless spamming opportunities now open to them following their Adultwork verification, I happen to have $10 million offshore which I can’t bank myself in the UK because of tax liability, but I reckon if we split it between a few of us I can see that you all get a good cut if you’d just be good enough to send me your bank details…..

It would appear that the balance has been very much tipped in favour of the deserving with some unmissable play by teams whose players (unlike the England side) arrived on the pitch looking as though they had met one another before the game, and I have especially enjoyed watching North Korea hold their own admirably against Brazil until the final moments, Argentina and Germany in their opening fixtures whereas up next is Ghana v Australia this afternoon. I have explained this to two callers already today, neither of whom were seemingly aware that the World Cup is a football tournament. You would think the name would give it away.

Inbetween the during-the-day television watching (a rare enough treat to be thrilling in itself), I have taken advantage of the lovely weather with an impromptu trip to the beach and also got many of those irritatingly small ‘household’ jobs completed which are so insignificant individually as to be easily put off, but build up when you are not looking – a stack of superfluous paper has been shredded and eco-responsibly put out in the blue bag, the duvets have been to the laundrette and returned sparkling white, fluffy and smelling like summer clouds plus all of the clothing needing repair beyond my skills is currently ensconced at the menders in town for collection on Monday. In technical news, the crooks at BT have been unceremoniously dumped (the last straw being their declared intent to charge me slightly under three pounds a month for not making any telephone calls from my landline, which I do not use) and in complete contrast, the lovely folk at Southern Electric noted that I had overpaid my bill and kindly returned a couple of hundred pounds to my bank account without being asked, as well as adjusting my monthly contributions to reduce the likelihood of a repeat. Life is indeed a sea of contrasts, and never more so than when trying to organise the provision of household utilities.

I have also managed to fit in some carefully arranged meetings, and particularly enjoyed a change of scene for an extended assignation in York at a charming hotel by the river;  an unexpected addition being dinner at the Blue Bicycle which turned out to be an extremely happy accident, having fabulous food, warm and welcoming decor and as I found out on my return home, a story all of its own – it turns out that the building was a well reputed brothel at the turn of the century, and the name refers to the bicycle its mistress would leave outside to signify that her premises was open for business. I am already planning my return visit, and am hoping for a look around the cellar where my Victorian contemporaries would have greeted their gentlemen callers, as well as some more of the ham hock terrine and possibly an extra order of braised ox cheek to go home with – all in all, the experience was a delight, and set the scene well for a couple of days of comforting inertia on the settee, with the occasional mini dilemma providing variety and interest (like the forgotten and slightly misshapen part-bar of desirably soft and warm milk chocolate unexpectedly discovered in a dressing gown pocket last night after tooth-brushing time).

To this week and very little to report apart from my Wednesday pit-stop in Manchester is fully booked bar a final late-afternoon/early evening appointment – I will be away until Thursday evening and Tuesday is also filling up quickly. I am in the very early stages of scouting accommodation and travel arrangements for Glasgow and very excitingly, a trip to Jersey, although those who remember the shenanigans in Aberdeen may know that this is another place where we ladies are decidedly unwelcome, and the practice I have already had in stealth and subterfuge will once again been called upon if the visit is to be uneventful in the good sense of the word. Bristol is also looking to be a resounding success, and I am likely to be fully booked before I set off, although there are always cancellations and enquiries are still very welcome, and I am looking forward to pastures new once again!

Whistle’s gone. Until next time…