We're jamin'

You know those strawberries? Well here they are! Actually they are all in jars now but I took this earlier during the jam making process. This is them in a ''rolling boil'', which is when the jam mixture starts to thicken (if you're lucky!!)

The children and I had great fun today, (yes they're still off school but back tomorrow) chores were suspended and it was the most beautiful summers day. We took a picnic up to the Downs (a lovely open space in the heart of Bristol) along with bubble mixture (Small Sprogs choice) and a cricket bat for French cricket (Mine and Tall Girls choice) We did lots of all of it and the sun just shone and shone and I realised how much we all needed to do this together, so much time (too much time) is spent doing routine, 'stuck in a rut' stuff. Small Sprog declared that blowing bubbles on a windy day was the best thing ever and he never wanted his day to end, I almost cried. He so loves life (but is stifled at school)

When we arrived home we made jam, coloured in and played air guitar, all at the same time! I absolutely love playing music very loudly but Husband's not so keen! Seeing as he was at work we had it very loud! We all played excellent air guitar to a few tracks of Cold Play and then the children scraped out all the cold jam from the pots. You can imagine Small Sprogs face. Both delighted and smeared bright red, a sticky gluey mass asking for a kiss just so that he could spread the love (mess!!)

Later on the nit children came home from school and they all went out to play together. Paul Weller returned to my CD player and I felt pleased with my day. Small Sprog is right though, there are some moments in life, which could just last forever.

Pick your own pick me up!

What a difference a day makes! Well, a day can't change everything but surely the bright scarlet of a red, ripe strawberry can't fail to act as a 'pick me up'!

The children had a day off school today, an inset day where the teachers are supposed to do training, but if you ask me (which you are not, but a rant is near impossible to overcome when discussing their school) having an inset day this close to the end of term can only mean that they are wasting a valuable training day just clearing up the odds and ends for next year.

However it was to our advantage, it was my day off anyway and the weather was beautiful so we had a taste of the summer holidays together. It was like a breath of fresh air!

We left early and drove up to Cheltenham to see my mum. On arrival there was tea and homemade cake all round before we went off to the local 'pick your own'.

Small Sprog is always keen to pick fruit. Anything to do with food is always a winner with him! He takes the whole thing very seriously. We went along the lines of fruit (just the two of us together as we had left Granny and Tall Girl back in row one) tasting each variety that we could find for strictly market research purposes you understand! We found some particularly sweet ones at the far end of the field. Small Sprog agreed that these were certainly the best and we set about filling our baskets. He did an excellent job.

After a while Tall Girl appeared. "How many have you got?" I asked her. My basket was half full already.
"Just these" She says.
"Is that all?" Well it was no surprise really! She just stands there chatting!! Very girly I must say.
"Can I have one?" She asks me. Then I realise that what she means is "Can I pick her one!!"
"I'll peel you a grape too shall I?" I retort. She slops off back to Granny.....
Later we regroup in the raspberry patch. Small Sprog and I have a basket and a half of small sweet berries. Granny has gone for size over flavour and has a basket full of GIANT ones! I secretly think that ours are far superior in flavour but say nothing. Tall Girl's basket contains about six! But she says she has had a great time. She truly loves her granny very much!

Despite eating half our body weight in soft fruit, we were all ready for lunch which my lovely mother had prepared before we left. I didn't have to lift a finger, it was just what I needed and she didn't even know it!

We had a leisurely afternoon and I had time to play with my children because I wasn't doing any chores. I am blessed and I know you will never read this but, thanks mum!

Pecking order

Small Sprog often assumes he is bottom of the family pile. We all would probably agree, most of the time. He is the smallest and the youngest however, underneath the thin veil of family life, things are not quite as they seem.

While out walking, Small Sprog was hungry (again!) so we looked for somewhere to stop along the way. Husband spotted a bit of a rock that looked big enough for us all, at a squeeze and the ground was damp so we settled for that. Husband sat down on it. Small Sprog plonked himself next to daddy. Tall girl and I looked at each other. Where were we going to sit?

"Come on then" said Husband impatiently "There's still room for you"

Tall Girl sat next to Small Sprog. The rock was full.

"There's room at the back" says Husband. And there was, just a little, so I sat down behind Small Sprog. It was quite pleasant and peaceful being there. No one talked to me because I was the wrong way round but the view was lovely; a path we had not yet walked along and a myriad of green leaves swaying gently in the breeze. I felt Small Sprog lean his back on to mine. He was warm and it was comfortable, feeling his weight against me. We ate our cake. I was supporting my son, I do it every day, one way or another.

Soon the children were up and running about. Husband asked if I wanted to sit around his side.
"No" I said, I was happy with my view, and in reality I just couldn't be bothered to move. But as I was there in my own little world, I realised how this was my place in the family. The one who gets the seat at the back! The one who clears up the mess and the one who is last to sit down! I began to contemplate my lot, which is never a wise thing to do I find. Mostly I spend my time rushing from one event (crisis!) to another, keeping busy, no time to stop, assess or think about anything deeply. Is the rushing a cover? Do I keep busy in order to avoid the realities?

From my children I get unconditional love, I need or want nothing else from them. They are the best thing about my life and I know I'm lucky to have them both. But then I started to reflect on the less positive things in my life, the previous week being an example.

Husband doesn't do birthdays. He bought me a cookery book this year which I already had! He had talked about getting something else but didn't get around to it. "We can get it another time" He said, and that was it. I think it's up to me to get it now but I've lost the enthusiasm. He forgot our anniversary, as you know, but it would have meant so much to just have had a token something, even after he'd remembered. Am I asking too much? Am I just a little spoilt child that doesn't like being forgotten? Probably. We live our lives along the same path but sometimes it feels like we are just going through the motions. To busy to stop, to tired to play. I cook for him, clean for him, make his bed. Tears welled in my eyes. There has to be more? And I started to think how nice it would be to be cared about or even cared for, just sometimes, not taken for granted, the one who gives support and comfort, the provider of food, the one at the bottom of the pile.

It took me by surprise.

I felt very lonely there in the woods.

I know I have so much to be thankful for. We are all fit and well and I am so very thankful for that and, considering the present climate, we have no money worries to speak of. So I'm sorry to whine in my childish voice but sometimes it helps to have a good moan. I think I might even feel a little better already!

Everyone knows mothers have eyes in the back of their head!

We had a lovely but long day out today. On the way home we crossed the Severn Bridge. Small Sprog had fallen asleep and Tall Girl, who was sitting directly behind me in the car, was quiet.

Just as we were driving onto the M5, having crossed the bridge, Tall Girl pipes up from the back " Have we crossed the bridge yet?"
"Yes"
"Oh, you never told me we were crossing it!" She complains
"I didn't know I was supposed to" I retort (a mothers place is always in the wrong!)
"I really wanted to see the bridge" She whines again.
"Well sorry" I say "I didn't know you weren't looking out of the window!"
"But I really wanted to see something and now I've missed it"
"Well don't worry then, Daddy will just do a U-turn in the fast lane!" I say sarcastically
She harrumphs in the back of the car. We are all tired and a bit 'tetchy'.

A few seconds later Husband shouts out "Hey, Tall Girl, there's a sign! Oh look and some trees, now there's a big blue sign......."
I glance behind me. She is wearing her 'I am not amused' look together with her 'I have such stupid parents' eyebrows.
Husband always knows how to make things better!

Slugs and snails..........

Husband has grown these! Lots of them, they smell wonderful and there was no need of a greenhouse! Another good thing about them is that the slugs and snails don't seem to eat them.

As I was wandering up the garden today, (wondering if I had missed summer altogether in a blink of and eye) I remembered something Small Sprog had said about a caterpillar when he was small. He was innocent then! There was no rudeness or 'toilet' talk about him. It seems an age ago.

He has always been fascinated with bugs of all kinds. One summers afternoon in the garden, he called me over to observe a rather beautiful caterpillar which had caught his eye. It was a bright hairy one, which looked much the same all over with no obvious 'front' and 'back'. We watched for a while and the caterpillar did what caterpillar's do best. It munched its way through leaf after leaf of on of the garden plants. Small Sprog looked on in wonder. Inevitably what goes in, must come out, and the caterpillar produced a large 'dropping' out of it's back end.

"Oh mummy!" Shouted Small Sprog alarmed

"What's the matter?" I asked, worried he'd been stung or something.

"Poor thing" he went on " It's nose has just fallen off!"

"No! I giggled "That's his bottom end!"

Bless him! If it happened now he'd be in 'fits' and shouting toiletish words at the top of his voice. What a difference a few years make.

We are family!

Tall Girl is happy, she feels settled, because at last she knows which school she is going to attend in September. We have bought her her new school uniform and this week, every night, when she gets home from school she puts it on! All of it! I am savouring the moment of her delight with it. Another 5 years of wearing it and she may not feel the same.

Rascal rang for Small Sprog last night "Can you meet me on Club Penguin?"

"Mum can I use the computer?" He squeals with delight. It's not often the phone rings especially for him, and a girl to boot!

"Yes, just let me sign out of my blog"

"She's just signing out of her blog" says Small Sprog down the phone in a tutting tone. "That's all she does is blog, blog, bloggety blog!"

Tell it as it is why don't you?!

ABC Wednesday...................

This week we have reached the letter W
W could have been for wedding anniversary, but
it was a bit of a non-event! SO....... W is for Wisteria in my garden,

However the flowers are long gone so it looks like this!

Still quite pretty, thanks to a little solitary bee who neatly

cuts chunks from the leaves for his nest in a pot nearby.

ABC Wednesday is hosted by Mrs. Nesbit.To take part or see other participants
visit Mrs. Nesbits place!

Not another celebration?

It's my wedding anniversary today.

When we arranged our wedding day I thought it would be fun to have it so close to my birthday.
I was wrong.
We never celebrate.

After birthday celebrations only 4 days before (not to mention, this year, the great occasion of my 103rd post!) Husband is all celebrated out! So much so this year, in fact, that he has forgotten!!

No divorce papers issued though, (not yet!), because I nearly forgot too, but I did manage to get a card at the local shops yesterday afternoon.

Husband looked very sheepish this morning. He looked so sorry that all I could do was laugh! Of course he may come home with a 'giant token of his undying love for me' this evening but experience tells me not to hold my breath!

More cake anyone?!

A moment in time.

Now this post has nothing to do with the mess that everyone has left behind when fighting for the last of the birthday cake crumbs. Although, I must admit, this place did need a thorough spring clean afterwards. I had to scrape bits of icing off the walls and those chocolates that someone had hidden in order to come back for more later when nobody was looking, had melted into the sofa cushions leaving a rather suspect stickiness on one corner.

Anyway, as I said, this is not a cleaning post. I am not lamenting my 'lot' as a domestic (slave) goddess. No, this post is a celebration!

What am I celebrating? My 103rd post! I know, I know, it's more traditional to celebrate your 100th post and I really wanted to but, you see, over the weekend, during my excitement over my birthday celebrations, I totally missed it! How could I have missed my 100th post?! I've been watching the counter for days (yes I have a very fulfilling life, thank you) and I realised it was getting closer, and then all of a sudden, it had gone, without a by-your-leave, never to return again. Bugger! It's a bit like the mileage counter on the car; it's just about to reach an interesting number, like 454545 or something, and you want to catch it right on that number. So you try to concentrate on it (watching the road at the same time of course) and all of a sudden you realise that you've drifted off and it now says 454546. And that's it, never again. A moment in time never to be repeated!

It happens allot now I come to think of it. All those moments in life that we look forward to and treasure, we have them, live them for a second, then they're gone and you can try to recreate them, but it can never be exactly the same ever again!

So, a lesson to myself, beware! Things sneak up on you slowly and then run past in a tricksey sort of way just to catch you out! We're so busy looking forward to the future, we forget to enjoy the present!

Here it is then, my freshly conquered 103rd. Fully odor counteracted (see photo), now in fresh cherry fragrance! Thanks for visiting over the last 103, and if you haven't been around much recently, come back soon because it can get boring here without you. (You know who you are!)

Live for the moment!

The following day.

Well, you've eaten all the chocolates! Liz had the milk round one with the swirl on the top, Maggie had a few and nicked my flowers too, (well she did steal a jug in her former years, that's what happens when you start young!) Mean Mom had more than one (honestly you can't trust some people can you?!) and The Mother of This Lot went underneath to the second layer before the top was finished just to see if there was an orange cream! Well I was brought up not to do that!! And anyway the orange creams are my favourite so I hid them under the flowers before you all arrived (before Maggie made off with them!) you can tell I'm an only child and no good at sharing can't you?! And you'll never guess what? Mean Mom came back again for more. Well, no wonder there's none left.

Thanks for all your lovely birthday wishes BS5, Rose, Susan, Girl with the Mask, Liz, Maggie May, Kitty, Spiralskies, Working mum, Dori, Mean Mom and Jamjar superstar. So nice to see some de-lurking too! If you didn't make my birthday and missed all the chocolate then there's a bit of cake left you can have. Help yourself, I'm felling a little full.

That's my boy.

It was my birthday this morning, well it's my birthday all day I guess but you know what I mean. The children came into bed to give home made cards and presents. It was lovely, but it was also a work/school day so not much 'hanging around' involved.

We have a tradition that there are chocolate croissants for breakfast on someones birthday. The children can pack away several. One makes me feel a little queasy so early in the morning, 11am is a good time, with a nice bowl of coffee to dip them in!

So the usual round of rushing and brushing took place. I couldn't resist a quick look at my blog before work. However as I was just reading some comments there was a howl from Small Sprog upstairs.
"Muuuuumm!"
What now?
"Yes"
"Tall Girls got me wet" He whines
"No I didn't" She shouts downstairs.
She will deny anything, they both will, and I'm never sure who was the culprit on many occasions!
"Look!" I shout back"It's my birthday and I don't want to hear you two arguing!"
However I look up the stairs to see Small Sprog drenched. His top is wet through and he looks sorry.
"Don't worry" I sooth " Just go and put another one on!"

The last rush for the front door arrives. We all scoot out and push bags and jackets into the car. Half way down the road I remember the wet top. I look over my shoulder. He seems to have the same one on.
"Did you change your top?"
"Yes" He nods
"What did you do with the wet one?" I ask suspiciously
"I hung it on the floor to dry" He says sweetly!!
Of course, he's right, where else would you put it?!

These are for you.

Go on, have one, you know you want to.

Just one little one.

It is my birthday.

And besides, if you don't have one, someone else will come along and eat the lot!

This was my first cyber bouquet!

Thank you BS5

Where do babies come from?

I heard this story in the staffroom and seeing as nothing very funny has happened to me today I just had to share it with you.

At school all the junior children are having sex education sessions this term. These include videos which range from cute kittens appearing (magically!) under the stairs for the 8 year olds, through to seeing a baby being born for the 11 year olds. I have watched the videos and they handle the whole puberty/changes thing very well and seem appropriate. However it seems to promote lots of hilarity every year. And that's just the teachers!

One teacher also has a child at the school. He is 11, therefore he has viewed the 'birth' video this week. After school the other day she went into the local Spar shop with her children, the 11 year old and her daughter who is about 18 months old (along with all the other mums from school who have no idea what they are having for tea!). They were standing in a large queue, which is normal at this time of day because the very small lady on the till knows all the customers and enjoys a good chat. They had had the obligatory conversation about "How was your day?" and "What's the weather like outside?" and the queue was shuffling slowly towards the till. All was well until the 11 year old says in a loud voice but very innocently "Mum, you must have a really large vagina!!" Needless to say she was speechless and the hole in the floor that should have opened up just wouldn't have been deep enough anyway!! Of course he was just thinking about his video, where the baby comes from and how large his sisters head was. Just thinking aloud. Sometimes the words just pop out without you even thinking don't they?!

The baby in the picture above is made out of sugar/marzipan. Amazing!

Mega Memory

I went to the Oxfam book shop yesterday and spent loads of money! There were so many bargains there, I found it hard to stop myself and anyway it was all in a good cause.

Most of it was for Small Sprog, a Horrible Science book about bugs, 2 large books one about castles and another about vehicles, with fab pictures of the aforementioned in cross sections, the Beano annual 2007 (which is all I went in for!) and some audio tapes.

This was one of the story tapes, a Dick King Smith story about a dog called Smasher. I thought it would be right up Small Sprogs street!

He was delighted. He loves listening to story tapes and I love him listening to them because it keeps him quiet! So when I showed him all his new things he sprinted straight upstairs and was gone for some time (bliss!). However when he came down later I asked him if the story tape was good. He wrinkled his nose.

"Isn't it a good story?" I asked

"There's a lot of explanation at the beginning " He complained "But it's OK."

"That's funny" I thought. Perhaps he meant the bit at the beginning where the reader explains copyright or something. I thought no more about it.

So this morning when I went into his room to see if he was dressed, I was pleased to see that he was listening to his tape again. The narrator had a gentle Canadian accent which was quite pleasant to listen to.

"Is this your new tape?" Why do you ask this sort of question when you know the answer is yes?! I often tell him off for asking the obvious!

"Yes"

I listened some more.

"This doesn't sound like an animal story" I say "Are you sure you've put the right tape in?"

"YES" In his 'duuurrr -brain' voice!

"Are you sure?" I make towards his tape player and open it up. This is what was inside!!

The photo is a bit blurred. I think I was giggling when I was taking it! In case you can't read it, the tape is 'Kevin Trudmans Mega Memory, lesson six'. Not quite Dick King Smith. Not quite a story at all! I can't believe he had listened to it for so long. And where were lessons 1 to 5?!It was extra funny because Small Sprog is not renowned around here for his memory at all. In fact sometimes I worry that he isn't quite with the real world, he often has zero recall!

"You can't listen to this" I laugh "It's not a story"

"But I like it" He whined.

"It's for grown ups"

"But it's a good story" He protests.

I knew what he meant. The man had quite a soft voice, you could just imagine being lulled into a soothing sleep whilst listening! But story it was not. Poor old Small Sprog. It has made me wonder if he actually takes in any of his story tape stories. Perhaps he just likes the sound of a narrators voice for company!

The Greenhouse

The greenhouse arrived just before we went on holiday. I can't say I was pleased to see it, it looked like trouble to me! Thankfully, Husband ignored it for a while but the other weekend he summoned the strength to begin erecting it.

It bites this greenhouse. Bites and scratches too. It didn't come with a warning. It didn't come with much at all come to that. Imagine Greenhouse of the Ikea kind and you'll be close.

I have to say Husband has surpassed my limited expectations. He has 'kept at it' despite injuries and set backs. I have not heard him swear once, though I must say I have kept well out earshot!
Bits of greenhouse have spent the last 10 days lying on the lawn, the ends lovingly wrapped in rags to stop it biting anyone who unsuspectingly wanders past. However last night, after work, it became almost greenhouse shaped!

I looked out of the kitchen window to see 3 sides vertical, with help from the garden bench and the washing line, but even so I had the idea we had arrived at the summit and it would be down hill all the way from here. Alas it was not to be. I went upstairs to make sure Small Sprog washed in his bath rather than just 'marinated' and while I was up there a dejected Husband shuffled in.

"How's it going then?" I asked cheerily.

"It's not!" He muttered

"But it was nearly up just now."

"Well, I bolted 3 corners together and then I couldn't find anymore bolts, so I took it all down again" He really did look deflated. His Greenhouse, the one he'd been coveting for years, was almost a reality, only to be dashed at the last hurdle.

"Oh dear" was all I could manage. Small Sprog was swishing backwards and forwards in the bath and the water was dangerously close to spilling out and through the kitchen ceiling.

"Will you have to go back to the garden centre to get some more?"

"No I've found them"

"But you've taken it all apart again" I say, stating the obvious which probably didn't help.

"I know, after I'd taken the last bolt out I picked up a bit of plastic bag and there they were inside." I resisted the urge to laugh! How could he have gone to all that trouble for nothing? Poor Husband, and he was bleeding again, his arm this time.

He came home briefly this morning. The petrol situation means he's staying close to home. He'd been to the garden centre to get some extra bolts anyway, 'just in case'.

"I saw that nice bloke again"

"Which nice bloke" I ask, puzzled.

"The one who sold me the greenhouse"

"Oh" Is always a safe reply, but I was thinking "If he was that nice he would have kept it in the shop!"

Husband continued "I told him I was having a bit of trouble and he said he had someone in last week who'd been trying to put one together for 6 months now!"

Great! Roll on Christmas I say!