Alison's Diary

Jul 6 2008

Lifestyle

MONDAY

My mum woke up last night with a big pain in her leg so off we went to hospital where she insisted on asking loudly every 30 seconds: "Well, is it a DVD?" I explained, through gritted teeth: "No, it's maybe a DVT. A DVD is a film." She said: "Oh right." And she continued to ask if it was a DVD or not. Grrr. Was thinking of going away this weekend on holiday but it will have to be a lastminute job as mum is back in hospital for a scan on Friday. My pal Mickey takes his dog Smokey (below) to the vet because he keeps licking his paw. He is charged £44 by the vet who just dabs it with cotton wool and puts a bandage on it. Mickey doesn't mind paying the bill as, when the back paw is being examined, Smokey farts loudly right in the vet's face.

TUESDAY

Dave is off to France for a couple of days. I'm in the house with mum, our two dogs, her lurcher dog Nellie who needs about a 10-mile walk a day and an over-excited boy whose summer holidays are imminent. There is no garden to take the dogs into and I feel my blood pressure rising. I feel like locking myself in a bar for a vat of lager but resist. Instead, I get the dogs into kennels for two nights, which is a blessing as Louis is up at 3am with a cold. I get a call asking me to do a show on Radio Forth for two weeks while DJ Darren Adam (right) is off. I say yes - it'll be a hoot and get me out of the house. Despite the unlikelihood of going away, I pack a suitcase as it makes me feel better to hope.

WEDNESDAY

Louis is off school despite attempts to bribe him. Mum looks after him as I have a vital mission - going to see my mad pal Dynamite diving with sharks at Deep Sea World in Fife (below). She looks fetching in her wetsuit and is in control until she realises she is surrounded by fish. She feels the smaller, cheekier fish nuzzling into her hair and, as it has lots of hairspray in it, she freaks out that they will be in there for days. Her radio partner Mickey (yes, he of the farting dog), senses imminent hysteria, comes to the rescue and swoops back and forth above her head, preventing her from taking 45 gallons of water into her lungs.

THURSDAY

Louis is in his bed all day with a huge red hooter. David is due back from France. He is less than amused when I break the news he will have to collect the dogs on his way home. I'm supposed to be at the Bonham Hotel's 10th birthday party - with singing waiters, fine wines and fab food - but I phone and say I can't make it. I'm also meant to be at the album launch of Scottish singer songwriter Chris Bradley at The Voodoo Rooms but ditto. I sit in with my eyes streaming because of the amount of Vicks Vapo Rub Louis has been applying. Dave arrives back with the hounds. I get a call from pal Jane telling me to pack my case for August as we are off to North Berwick for a live music fest by the likes of Dougie MacLean and Rab Noakes with fish suppers, skiffle and booze. Well, that finally puts a smile on my face.

FRIDAY

Back to ERI with Mum, who gets the all-clear. Whoopee. I get online with easyJet and find we can fly from Newcastle to Spain early tomorrow. Phone pal Elaine who runs kennels near airport and finds she has space. We are off. Dave phones to say he has heard on the news that Palma Airport has a baggage handlers' strike and we should only take hand luggage. I glance at the suitcase full of stuff and reluctantly agree capsule packing it is. Off to see Radiohead (right) at Glasgow Green. It rains but is atmospheric. Have a nightmare coming home as Scotrail fail to put on extra trains for the thousands who went to see the gig. Finally arrive in Edinburgh at 1am and there is only one exit open. We won't be doing that again in a hurry.

SATURDAY

We're up and out by 6am with four hand luggage bags and three dogs in the back of the car. We get to Newcastle in time to dump the dogs then go to the airport. When we arrive in Palma (below), I open my bag and realise my capsule wardrobe has no bras, no make-up due to the restrictions on liquids and nothing I normally wear. Dave opens his to find he has no boxers, socks or trousers. Louis is fine as he only ever wears shorts and T-shirts. But mum admits she too has neglected to put anything of use in. So we go out for dinner looking like the Beverly Hillbillies and may be sent home for offending the locals. Off to Puerto Pollensa tomorrow so let's hope the shops are open and the flat we booked 12 hours ago has a roof and a bed.