I was moaning and reminiscing about my scrap books the other day and I thought it's better to get up and do it instead of wishing for it to happen. Armed with my March issue of Elle, a handbag sized high street catalogue and my trusty scissors and prit-stick I dived into my little note book. Sundays might be book marked for scrap booking in future. It serves no purpose other than to feed my week long battered ego. Everyone has a silly hobby that has little importance to others, but WHO CARES as long as it makes you happy. I used to draw collages and now I assemble them. Lucky me, to have found a self powered activity to cheer myself up when I need it. A big cup of tea and an hour to myself, flicking through magazines as if I were shopping, collecting clippings in my plastic wallet, saving them for a rainy day. Harmless, inexpensive, me time. xoxo
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