It’s downward dog, cobra pose and the plank for us now – Cheryl Gibbs

But I’m not stressed out all the time. Honestly.

People always assume that it is my job that is making me stressed, apparently.

And, yes, at times it can definitely be the case, but not always.

Anyway I’ve decided to try yoga and have signed up to attend Rebalance in Hambledon.

I have my first session on Monday and I’m super excited as I’ve always wanted to give it a go.

I’ve also roped my husband Matt into giving it a whirl, so we’ll both be practising our downward dog (I think that’s a thing) on Monday.

Watching parish politics in action really opened my eyes

Last week I reported about the fact a planning application has been submitted to turn the beloved White Dirt Farm in Catherington, which our house overlooks, into four houses.

We bought our house in August 2016 because of the view.

So to have the farm converted into houses with 11 car parking spaces is, as you can imagine, upsetting – not least of all because it will change the entire aesthetic of the area.

That stretch of land is vital because it separates the parishes of Horndean, Catherington and Clanfield so it’s quite significant to the whole area.

Because I feel so passionately about it I decided I would attend the Horndean Parish Council planning committee meeting on Monday where this application, among many others, was being debated.

I’ve never been to a parish council meeting before and I didn’t really know what to expect.

I felt as my opinion was so strong against the application the least I could do was attend and demonstrate my point.

I was informed that I would get three minutes to make my case and I had planned which points I wanted to raise and how I should get across the importance of the farm to the area.

Well, I needn’t have worried about sticking to my three minutes, or being able to get a seat, because I was the only member of the public there.

I was quite impressed by the parish council set up.

Each council member had microphones with lights on in front of them to announce to the rest of the group when they wanted to say something.

It reminded me of watching the UN meetings on television.

This is serious business, people.

It came to the point where the discussion would be opened up to members of the public – me.

It was my moment and I was ready…except when the words came out it sounded totally different to what I had rehearsed.

I mumbled, stumbled and rambled on way past my three minutes trying desperately to get my point across which is ‘please don’t take my farm!’

Uncle Paul missed valuable drinking time – at wrong pub

It was my brother-in-law Shaun’s birthday at the weekend and we originally planned to meet at Sovereigns, in North End, close to where he lives.

But because of the beautiful weather my sister Michelle changed it to the Red Lion in Horndean because it’s got a nice pub garden.

Unfortunately the message didn’t reach my uncle Paul who ended up in Sovereigns, frantically calling everyone.

He had to get the bus up to Horndean!

It wasn’t my event to organise so I didn’t think about texting him and neither did anyone else.

Poor guy. So sorry, Paul! April’s full of birthdays so I’ll make sure the next round is on Michelle...