Holidays

In case I don't get time to post on Monday, hope you all have a good week! Bunnies are off to the Bunnie Hotel tomorrow, not the same one as last time, hopefully better. And we are traveling early Tuesday morning.

This pic is of my foot on the beach that I hope to be walking on very soon! The flip flops in the foreground are Tall Girls! They look bigger than my feet don't you think?! We went to see her Grandma today. Tall Girl has grown taller than Grandma now, having grown taller than my mum a few months ago! I am 5 foot 10 inches tall and she has her sights set on that next.

Small Sprog woke early this morning feeling sick. I'm not sure whether he's panicking about flying or putting it on so that he can watch TV first thing in the morning!! He has been fine all day and Husband says NOTHING is going to stop him getting on that plane! He has also banned me from checking the weather (again) on the web!

My natural father and I have a sort of obsession with the weather and when he phones we often have long conversations about it!! I know, it's a bit strange but I swear it's in the genes. He has gauges for rain fall and temperature and has been keeping a diary for as long as he can remember in which he logs his weather data. He will call tomorrow to speak before we go away. Strange really, seeing as he left when I was 8 years old and I didn't find him again until Small Sprog was born. We have a strange connection even though we don't know each other the way we should. I have never held it against him that he left mum and me. I think she managed to do that for both of us! It is such a relief to know him now, before it was like a little bit was missing.

Well this was meant to be a short post to say goodbye for a while. It seems to have got a bit mixed up! Anyway, no blogging for a week will take some getting used to. What am I going to do for a whole week?!!

It's Eurovision!

I am blogging briefly tonight. Husband has 'The Eurovision Song Contest' on in the background! What is he doing watching that?!! All I can hear is ''What is she wearing?'' Several times. Then.....

'He's wearing a lampshade!' He giggles 'And why do they all sing in English?'

'Because everyone can understand it' I chirp in, though he isn't really expecting or requiring a response!

'Can you understand that then?' He asks. I have to admit he has a point.

'Oh, here come a lot of lunatics!' And so he goes on, commenting at will. He's almost better than Terry Wogan.

'Funny how they are all blond isn't it?' (This was the entry from Norway!!)

'Not really' I reply.

He is quiet for a while. Then he starts grumbling because the beginning of the text on the screen is missing. 'Problem is because you can't see the beginning few letters of the country on the screen, lots of them come from ...land'

'Does it matter?' I say but he's lost in Eurovision world!

'She looks mad as well' He goes on.

'She's lost her noo noo, and she's got big legs' (a sin obviously)

'What do you mean noo noo?' I ask, because this one needs some clarification.

'She's singing Noo, noo, noo, noo, noo!' He chants.

'Oh'

'Look, this one's brought his dad with him!' He carries on. 'And Alf Garnets playing in the background!

Actually it did look a lot like Alf! Here he goes again....

'This is the ugly woman, every Christmas pantomime will want them for years won't they?!'

He can be so cutting!

'The woman in pink was good though'

Well thank goodness someone passed muster.

He's run out of steam now and has gone quiet! When I was little my mum used to let me stay up late and watch the whole thing, which goes on for hours! It was always such a treat then, although my most memorable Eurovision, when I was young, was the one I spent vomiting into a bucket!! One could argue now that it was enough to make anyone vomit, but I did love all the songs then.

They've started voting now. Husband has just anounced he can't stand the tension so is off to bed! Well that's all folks!!

Five days and counting...

Small Sprog is looking forward to his holiday. Well not so much getting excited about it but looking forward as in anticipating it. Anticipating it in not a very good way really. It's not the holiday, per say but how we are getting there that is dwelling on his mind! I have blogged before about the horrendous flight last year and although it was Tall Girl who wretched into a carrier bag in the airport waiting for the return flight (out of sheer panic) it is Small Sprog who is worrying about it now. Tall Girl has admitted to being scared but also excited about going away, Small Sprog is 'simmering'!

At breakfast today he went a bit quiet and didn't want his food. 'What's the matter?' I asked.

After a bit of cajoling he said 'Is it going to be windy this weekend?'

You see it was the wind that caused the last bad flight.

'No' I soothed 'Look outside now, it's a lovely day and it's going to be a perfect flying day next Tuesday!' (Best 'singsong' voice!)

He finished his breakfast.

A little later while I was clearing up the table (luckily Small Sprog was out of earshot) I heard the weather forecast for the weekend. Rain and strong winds from the north! Oh bugger!! That's not going to help the situation. Please can someone reassure me that Tuesday will be the calmest day (weather wise) of the year so far? Please!

The boring bits!

I'm back! Thanks so much to everyone who commented with their good wishes. It was so brilliant to be greeted by so many lovely words when I came back to the blogosphere!

(This picture is a boring bit, by the way!)

Tonight Husband is installed in front of the Footie! He is never keen on me blogging. He harrumphs when he thinks I am neglecting my 'duties' and makes derogatory comments about me spending soooo much time here in front of my screen but on a football night he is positively ecstatic that I am otherwise engaged! He can watch his screen guilt free!!

In case anyone is interested... (!)

The appeal was nerve racking and took most of the day on Monday with one hearing at 10am lasting 2 hours and then having to go back for the result and hour later. We then had to make our case at 3.50. This was the worst bit. I was so nervous! I 'm sure I haven't done enough to get a place and I am cross with myself for not doing more. However it is too late now and we won't know the outcome until next week by which time we will be away on holiday. So a much longer wait than I would like but it can't be helped. In the meantime we have been offered another good school for Tall Girl but it is MILES away and would mean her traveling 45 minutes each way on the bus. I haven't broken the news to her yet! She won't want to go as none of her friends are going. So if we don't get our appeal, I will tell her then. No need for her to worry before the holiday!

Well it's extra time.....apparently he missed the goal and that is good!! You can tell football is not on my list of interesting things to watch on TV, though I totally (!) respect all of you who are engrossed right now!............ Oh, they've scored!! Husband is dancing around the room, expletives issuing forth........and........ I think he's pleased but it is hard to tell!

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

................This week we have reached the letter R

R is for Rosettes!

There is something fascinating about how nature can make this perfect shape!

But here is another perfect shape!!

I couldn't resist adding my Rabbit to my list of R's

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

See you soon!

Hi everyone! Just to let you know I'll be gone for a few days. Tomorrow we have Tall Girls appeal for the state school that we want her to go to. She is dyslexic and it has the best provision by far in the area. However appeals are notoriously unsuccessful. It has taken a lot of time to get all our evidence together and I have tried not to post about it because it is boring !! However Monday is the big day so wish us luck!

Mum is coming down to look after the children after school because our second appointment is during school pick up time. I'm sure they do their best to make the whole thing difficult! She is staying the night so no blogging time at all tomorrow!!

Anyway hope you have all had a great weekend and see you soon.

Tagged again (I just don't run fast enough!)

I was tagged by Vegplotting to tell 6 things about myself.
Thanks VP!

Here are the rules:
Link to the person who tagged you.
Post the rules on your blog.


Write six random things about yourself.
Tag six people at the end of your post linking to their blog.
Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

So, six things about me:

1. Before I gave up work to have children I was an interior designer.
2. Before that I was a window dresser.
3. When I was in my early twenties I ran off to Gretna Green and got married!
4. Obviously it didn’t last!!!
5. In less than two weeks time I‘ll be in Spain.
6. I love chocolate (I think you may already know that!)

Right, who's next?

Maggie May

Bobo

BS5

Scargosun

Liz

Dori

Remember, there is no obligation if you don't want to play...

My mum's a sweetie!

I've had a lovely conversation with my mum tonight. We discussed her day, what she was going to do this weekend, how her best friend is feeling after being unwell and how fat another friend appeared when she called yesterday!!

She told me she had been to the dump (recycling centre /civic amenity site!) today to get rid of some cardboard and some shredded paper. "They take the Yellow Pages now" she chirped excitedly, ever the eco-warrior. "Now we don't have to throw it away with the rubbish."

"Yes, we've been recycling them here for ages" I tell her.

"I don't think they can recycle them." She says in a disappointed tone.

I am confused, what does she think they do with them?

"It's the colour!" she explains

"They must be very difficult to use again.

If only they could make the Yellow Pages white!"

Sometimes I just can't find the right words!

Bedtime.....

"Go upstairs, have a wee and put your Pyjamas on." I shout full volume. Small Sprog is larking around tonight. "Let me know when you're ready."
There is a lot of laughter and running about noises upstairs. I give him five minutes and shout up "Are you ready yet?"

"Yes."

"Have you got your Pyjamas on?"

"No."

"Put them on then."

I give him another few minutes...

"I'm ready!" He calls down in a singsong voice.

"Have you had a wee?"

"No"

"Have a wee then!"

Are you getting bored yet? Well try doing it EVERY night of the week! By now I'm tired of shouting, so I go up to view the damage. Small Sprog is still running around in his birthday suit! All that he's wearing is the remains of hot chocolate around his mouth. All his clothes are in a heap on his bedroom floor.

"I thought you'd put on your PJ's" I realise I'm starting to sound a little strained!

"I've cleaned my teeth!" He says proudly.

Did I ask him to clean his teeth??

We do teeth again, he wees - "Keep the wee in the toilet!" I say for the hundredth time! He has a habit of not looking where he's "going" - and puts on his dressing gown. Then we snuggle up in 'the big bed' to read a quick story. "It has to be a quick story" I explain "Because you've taken so long to get ready." He doesn't complain. He has a plan up his sleeve!

We do the story and his inhaler and I breath a very quiet sigh of relief. The whole thing is quite exhausting. We snuggle up in his bed, I make Poalie talk (his polar bear has a very gruff voice!!) We say goodnight and I am just about to go downstairs when I realise Small Sprog is out of bed and sprinting to the loo. I do a few things upstairs and wait for him to finish. No sign of Small Sprog. It's getting late now so I go in to see what he's up to.

There he is in all his glory, sitting on the loo, swinging his legs, starkers except for one thing. On his face he is wearing a massive grin, but that's not the thing. The thing is on his head. On his head he is wearing Tall Girls shower cap!! It is blue and flowery! And at that moment she appears at the door. "Yuck! Mummy! He's wearing my shower cap while he's having a poo!" She wails!! Don't you just love family life? I placate her.

Eventually I settle him back down and that's it! I'm down stairs and about to enter blogging heaven when......

"Mum?"

"Yes" Threateningly!

"Can I have a drink of water?"

Now that is just the oldest trick in the book!

These are some bluebells from our garden last week.

This week they have faded somewhat, a little like myself!

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

.......This week we have reached the letter Q

Q is for Quay

I took this picture some years ago on the quayside of a tiny little

harbour near St Just in Roseland in Cornwall.

In fact it was hardly a harbour, just a small river inlet used by a few locals.

When I took the photo the tide was out so there was just a

muddy patch where the watershould have been!

So no pictureseque views of the river but

I just couldn't resist capturing all the bright colours of the buoys!

ABC Wednesday is hosted by Mrs. Nesbit.

To take part or see other participants visit
Mrs. Nesbits place!

Small Sprogs Beasty!

Eeeewww! Small Sprog found this (click to enlarge, I dare you!) on our back step at the weekend!! Small Sprog was delighted, he loves bugs! I have to say it was quite spectacular, being about half the size of my thumb and Husband thinks it's a Rose Chaffer. What do you think?

When I got home last night everyone was in bed. Husband usually leaves a light on upstairs and down. The one in the hall was on but not in the bathroom. I soon found out why.

The window was open in the bathroom, because the temperature here is just like midsummer. I switched the light on as I went in. No sooner had I put toothpaste on my brush, when I heard a scraping and tapping noise coming from outside!! It was a horrible noise! Panic!! Instantly I switched off the light, guessing it was Small Sprogs little (or not so little) beasty friend. If Small Sprog hadn't been asleep he'd have been delighted and positively welcomed it in! As it was I have a bit of a phobia about flappy, fluttery things that fly in a 'I have no idea where I'm going' confused sort of way. Turning off the light had obviously confused him (thank goodness), either that or he had battered his brains out with his incessant smashing against the glass.

I love bugs really, just not flying in close proximity. The incident reminded me of when a dragonfly flew down my trouser leg in a public toilet! But that will have to be a story for later in the week!

Penance!

A short post tonight because I'm off to book club (soooo suburban darling!). I haven't read the book, in fact I have no idea what it was! I have read the one for the time before though, which is no use whatsoever, but I forgot to go that month. I blame blogging for my sudden disorganisation.

Tonight was 'pamper night' for the bunnies. One Brazilian (Please click here if you are confused about waxing bunnies and missed the last instalment) and a two manicures booked in for 5.15. As the day went, this was probably the highlight. For a start catching the little buggers is never that easy, they always seem to know where they're going! However, that done, we arrived on time and were called in to the consultation room straight away. The vet relieved me of both bunnies, saying the nurse would help perform the task (I was relieved I didn't have to help!) and ushered me towards the door. 'I'll be about 15 minutes' she said.
'Oh that's OK', I replied 'I'll sit and read a magazine'. How nice to have a sit down and a browse through a 'glossy', I wouldn't normally do that at this time of day.
So, off I went back into the waiting room and headed for the pile of magazines in the corner. I picked up the top copy, and sat myself down, bliss, a whole 15 minutes to myself with....... ''Your Dog'' magazine?!! I should have guessed really I suppose, after all, I was at the vets.

For those of you who have never come across this little gem, 'Your Dog'' is full of very useful information, if you have a dog, and lots of pretty pictures of pups. There was an article about 'why your dog eats animal feces', and a problem page for distraught owners of distressed pets. One problem in particular caught my eye; one worried owner had written about her poor springer spaniel who had a compulsion to lick patio slabs and chase his own shadow!! Problem, what problem?! It crossed my mind that this would be a good party trick. Hey, there you go, that's the awful sort of human being I am.

It was such a relief when she brought the bunnies back! I couldn't wait to get home before I was tempted to pick up another issue. 15 minutes with ''Your Dog'' magazine is enough for any woman, I can tell you and it did strike me that the whole episode may have been penance for the Saturday night incident!!

Bunnies are safely tucked in now and I'm off! See you tomorrow.

Happy Birthday for Monday 12th BS5!

(For everyone else my Sunday post is below)

Enjoy your cake!

Coconut and Strawberry sponge.

I made it especially!!

Me and my big mouth.

Our' very nice computer man' who sorted out our router, called again last night. He is quite a shy man, very quietly spoken but not at all 'geeky'. He had bought a gizmo thingy with him so I made him a cup of tea and pottered about while he set about installing it for us.

After a while Husband came down, having put Small Sprog to bed. Small Sprog was taking ages to settle, it was hot and bright outside and he wanted to come down to see 'The man'!

Installation didn't take very long, so when the 'very nice man' had finished we sat about for a chat. Talk turned to technical stuff (as it would) and he started to tell us how you could attach a camera to your system, to make a web cam, which you could use for security purposes. 'You can access the pictures from another computer and see what is going on at home' he said. I think I looked less than impressed!
'It's quite useful' he insisted. 'I set one up at home so that I could see what the dog was up to.'
The dog...the dog?! Well, my imagination kicked in straight away with that line!
'Were you checking up which Internet site he was using?' I quipped, giggling 'Were you making sure he wasn't on 'inappropriate web sites'?!!'
I couldn't stop myself, it was Saturday night and I was feeling a little silly. I was imagining the said dog, bottom on the office chair, paws on the keyboard .....you can imagine the rest yourself! Laugh! Well, I chuckled away...

Then Husband, catching the silliness, proceeded to prance around the room David Brent style with a little 'wooof' dropped in for good measure! (I know, the mind boggles, but by now we were both caught up in the moment) 'Or he might spend the day dancing' he chuckled, still bouncing!

I think it dawned on both of us at roughly the same time that the 'very nice man' was not joining in!!! 'Did the system work well?' I said trying to pull myself together and be sensible.
'Yes,' he replied in his reserved sort of way, 'my dog was quite ill and I needed to keep an eye on him while I was at work. I only lived around the corner, so if there was a problem I could monitor him or rush home'.
That sobered me up! 'Oh' I back peddled somewhat, 'I'm so sorry, that's sad. Was he OK?'
'Oh, well, no', said the 'very nice man', 'He died.'

If I hadn't been standing in my own living room at that moment, I would have wished the ground could open up and swallow me! Where was that system restore button when you needed it, for goodness sake?

A little more small talk ensued as we all walked slowly to the front door. We started saying how sorry we were and wasn't it awful to lose an animal, and 'They're so much part of the family aren't they?'

At the door we solemnly said our good byes, shutting the front door finally. Poor man.

Guiltily we walked back into the living room, very quiet....without uttering a word!! That place where the gaping hole should have been was still there.

Two messy chores.

There was a dramatic thunderstorm here last night. It was rather spectacular and I was hoping that the rain may have encouraged the large mound of soil (actually three tones in the end) on our front drive to relocate to the back, down hill all the way. However this morning it was still there (bad luck) and ready for shifting.

It took most of the morning and my right (shoveling) arm now has double the biceps of yesterday! I could do with shoveling another three tones now, in a left handed way, just to even myself up a bit! Small Sprog and Tall Girl helped (with out making a fuss, which was strange) and after a while enlisted the nit children's help. The nit children brought rakes and shovels and another large barrow (and a small green plastic one which held roughly a tablespoon full!) which helped tremendously! The nit children are good at hard work, I was amazed how much they did before they got fed up with it!! The postman commented about slave labour and the neighbour (who timed it just right) arrived back from the supermarket just to see the last barrow full disappear down the drive!

The soil has done its job, which was to fill in a gaping hole at the bottom (why did it have to be right at the bottom?) of the garden. The previous owner had laid a concrete path down the whole of the right side of the garden, when he lived here. Husband dug it up about 6 years ago (his projects are renown for developing over extremely long periods of time!). There was a shed load of hardcore underneath the path so, after it had been dug out, we were left with more hole than garden in one corner. For a long time now (roughly 2 years) Husband has been about to order the soil! We didn't need three tones in hindsight! However he assures me it will settle and he now has plans to level other parts of the garden too. Hmmm, we may be here for some time to come. The greenhouse is still being eagerly awaited, but only by him!

Other urgent jobs over the last 24 hours have been de -pooing the rabbits bottom. Yes, oh the joys of pet keeping! Yesterday evening I discovered that Archer has given up on his personal hygiene and decided to opt for the saloon instead. He needed a Brazilian in fact! Poo all around his tail, yuck. So Husband and I braced ourselves for the full horror to come. We filled an old basin with water and tried to soak it off. He was such a good rabbit! I think he was petrified but at least he kept still. However after a long soak it was still stuck like.. well like what it actually was! So next we got out the scissors. I held him and husband began to cut away at the clump of immovable poo. We were using the best bathroom scissors and I made a mental note to sterilise them as soon as possible, particularly as husband uses them to trim his most handsome moustache!!

Bits of the clump of poo (you do have a strong stomach don't you?!) came away but it was so matted in close to his skin that I have booked him in to the vets to have it shaved off. It will probably cost me more than a full waxing but his life may depend upon it.

Husband had a dream last night that he was trimming his moustache. He dreamt that as he was doing it there was lots of fluff growing underneath his own hair, lots of, what looked like, bunny fluff!!

Now what did I do with those bathroom scissors?!

A visit from my mum

Mum came to see me yesterday after I finished work at lunch time. I love my mum very much and owe her everything. However sometimes we take a while to 'gel'! I like it when she comes down and I have learnt to try to appreciate it more because she's not getting any younger and one day the 45 minute drive may be too much for her. When I go to her house things are different. If my stepfather's there things can be more than a little edgy. When it's just mum though it's fine.

So yesterday she was supposed to arrive at 12.45. She is renowned for lateness, and often made me late for school in my teens because she insisted on dropping me off at school and always left it 'till the last minute to leave home! I have the same habit (which is annoying, no one wants to admit to having the same bad habits as their mum!) I don't make my children late for school though as I remember what it felt like, but other things that I have to leave the house for are often timed to the last second. My excuse? There is always time to fit in one more tiny little job, when I know damn well there isn't. This habit annoys Husband greatly. He used to be a good timekeeper!

Anyway back to mum. I said I would be home at 12.30 so she said she would be here soon after. I expected her about 1.15, but no. There she was, before I'd even kicked off my shoes! 'Damn' I muttered under my breath. I thought I'd have a minute to draw breath before she arrived!

It wasn't that I didn't want to see her, I just needed a little time to unwind. Pour a cold drink, open the windows, hang out the washing, read my blog (this may have been the crux of the matter!!). But no, here she was, fresh as a daisy and raring to go!! Sometimes when she comes she is loaded with gifts! Vouchers she has saved from the supermarket, the free thing from the by one get one free offers, something her neighbour was going to send to the charity shop but she 'rescued' just in time (!) and sometimes flowers. She is so lovely and thoughtful (even though I keep telling her that if she gives me the free one then it's not really a bargain for her!). It was cheese this week. Three for the price of two. I got all three of them!!!

When she arrives with gifts she blusters in through the front door, avalanche style, shouting in an excitable way (which apparently I do too, according to Husband) and bursting with news of this offer and that freebie and where she got it and 'you'd better put it in the fridge' and so much information, sometimes I find it hard to cope! 'Just give me a minute' I want to say, 'it was quiet here a minute ago and I was just busy doing something I need to finish NOW'. But it's no use! This is her style and how great it is to still be so full of enthusiasm at 70!

I hope, as I'm gathering all this information, that my face isn't saying 'oh for goodness sake'! I take a deep breath and ask if she would like a cup of tea. This gives me a moment to busy myself and not take the onslaught full on!! Inside I'm feeling a little disgruntled, (my blog is beckoning) I'm trying not to show it but I think I might be sounding a little strained!

But time goes on. We settle down into something resembling normality. We talk about mutual friends, the weather, the children and dogs! I make us a sandwich and we drift outside into the garden to eat and talk and just be.

There is lots of sewing to do. Tall Girl brought home 3 badges from camp. All need to be sewn on to her uniform and camp blanket. She has holes in her tights and Small Sprog has demolished the hems of two pairs of trousers this week. So, in the warm sunshine, we sew together, passing the time slowly and pleasantly. We talk about the every day things in life and are happy with ourselves.

We get on well, my mum and me. We have been through hard times together and life is fragile and precious. She was my rock for so long and suspect I am hers now . We make the most of the time we have left. We are both loved.

The black and white photo (click for close up) shows mums parents and grand parents. She has so many old photos, all in a large brown cardboard box, and takes pride in telling me that they are all labeled, so I know who they all are, when she's not 'here' anymore!!

The Abyss!

Don't usually blog at this time of day (7am), I seem to be burning the candle at both ends right now. There is a lot going on here that isn't very interesting but it's taking up a lot of time! So I'm going to bed late and getting up early and feeling a bit tired too.

When I woke up this morning I remembered that this weekend is the anniversary of our first date (Husband and me). I mentioned it to him when he came back in from showering.

'Look where that got us' he said, 'that was a big door that opened wasn't it?! Bloody great barn door!'

'More like an abyss' I retorted.

'In an alternative universe I wonder what would have happened?'

'Probably one of us caught food poisoning from the Chinese' I mused!

There was a lot of rummaging around type noise coming from Small Sprogs room. He's always up early and it was around 6.30 am. He sounded as though he was trying to tunnel out. By now Husband had drifted downstairs contemplating alternate universes and I got out of bed. Rubbing my eyes I stumbled to the door (I don't do mornings!) just in time to crash in to Small Sprog, who was dressed in his full skeleton outfit!

Sometimes I think I live in that alternative universe!

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

..................This week we have reached the letter P No not P for boat!!
The letters PZ show that the boat is registered in Penzance

in Cornwall.

P is also for Peter Pan

I found this old book when I was sorting out Mums attic.

The photo of the title page is a little dark but I

hope you can make out the line drawing.

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

Mrs. Nesbits place!

'No it's my go!'

It was a fantastic day, weather wise here in BS9. Typical really, after BBQing in the rain on Bank Holiday Monday!! One day of good weather and everyone is confident that summer has arrived! I am not leaving myself out of that statement, having thoughts of camping this coming weekend. There does seem a bit of a hitch this year though.... Blogging and camping seem an impossible combination, how will I manage? Withdrawal seems certain with twitchy mood to follow. Does anyone have a solution? Perhaps there is a field somewhere close to a wireless router without a fire wall? That would do it. I don't think they list that criteria in the camping brochures though. Hey, a gap in the market, 'Blogging campsites of the world'. A fortune to be made.

I am suffering the most appalling addiction though, causing irritation, tiredness, general disorganisation and neglect! Here are some recent Moments of Suburban blogging conversations here in Acacia Avenue:

Tall Girl and Small Sprog: 'Can I have a go on the computer?'
Me: 'No it's my go!'

Tall Girl and Small Sprog: 'Mummy are you blogging again?' I hate this one, feeling that I'm ignoring my motherly duties although all they really want to do is play on Club Penguin.

Husband (in condescending tone) :'Why don't you write about that on your blog' Me (thinking): Get your own bloody blog!

Husband: 'When you're blogging does it mean that you are ''on the blog''?! His favourite because he knows it annoys, (yuck!)

Husband: 'Shall I make the tea then?' He thinks I'm ignoring my wifely duties.

Husband : 'I'm going to bed now.' He knows I'm ignoring my wifely duties!

Perhaps I should end it all!!!

Tall Girls Return.

Suburbia is happy that Tall Girl is home from camp!! She is dirty, smelly and happy! She has lots of new songs to sing and tales to tell and she is speaking with a new voice. The new voice is more confident and assertive. The new voice is speaking older words in an off hand 'well of course it was..' sort of way. Her sleeping bag is wet, her trainers are soaking. She did the assault course twice and jumped in the water with all her clothes and trainers on. She made a fire with sticks and cooked waffles and chicken. It rained, it thundered and she is covered in bites! She did cooking and cleaning but avoided sloshing out the toilets! Everything was fine (you said it would be) and her new voice is fantastic. It is a voice that can survive the next year at a new school and a voice that can make new friends. She is my best girl and she has grown up (like you said she would).

However I can't stop being a mother, so she is now in the bath! Her bed is freshly made and her PJ's are clean. My mission will be accomplished when she lays down her tired (but clean) head and is happy to drift into a pleasantly exhausted sleep. At home at last, my best girl, grown and beautiful.

Mother-in-law rang to see how Tall Girl got on.

'Did she come home with flees like her father?' I have heard this story before and realise that she is not talking about only yesterday!

'No flees' I reply cheerily, though I didn't mention the head lice episode of late.

'I had to make him undress on the front step' she carried on.

'Yes, we didn't go that far'. I didn't admit that the thought crossed my mind!

'And all his toothpaste was spread over the inside of his sleeping bag'

'Mmmm'. The enthusiasm has run out for this story over the years!

'They disbanded the scout group you know' she carried on, 'after that lot had been. They scrumped apples and the curate was sacked!'

GOSH, that bad?!!

Storm in a teacup.

Beeep Beeep Beeep. 'Oh that's the smoke ala....'

Whoops, the toaster has cremated the toast and the kitchen is filling up with smoke. I can't see the ceiling and clouds of smoke are swirling out of both doors. Husband storms off to sort out the alarm. Burnt toast sends him into a rage which is always out of proportion to the deed! I open the kitchen windows and the conservatory door in order to waft it out. The alarm stops. The smoke is still filling the kitchen and I realise the toast is still cooking. I fish it out of the toaster and dip the glowing bits into the sink full of water. Small Sprog and I are laughing at the amount of total destruction a few bits of burning toast can make. We feel our way back into the conservatory to eat our breakfast! Small Sprog has peanut butter on toast (perfectly browned!). He ladles it on and spreads it thickly. 'I'm glad I have my jumper on' he says cheerfully as a nippy morning breeze meets the smoke halfway and seems to send it all back in again.

I am halfway through a jar of ginger marmalade (my favourite, often eaten from a spoon, straight from the jar!). 'I wonder where Daddy has got to?' I ask him as we merrily munch in the clearing mist.

At that moment Husband blusters into the kitchen. 'Bloody smoke!'

'I was wondering where you were' I soothed.

'Where did you think I was?'

'Well you've been gone a long time'

'I've been opening ALL the windows' he replies, in a voice which intimates that he had done it all on his own with no help from us and now we were asking stupid questions and enjoying our toast when his was lying cold and untouched! 'And some windows were still locked from when we went away!' (Now he knows how I feel)

'I thought you were in the toilet!'

He just looks at me in a 'I can't believe you can be so stupid' sort of way.

'It's only a bit of smoke' I say, feeling a bit miffed now.

Small Sprog is kicking his feet under the table and humming a tune. After a while I can make out the words and stifle a giggle. He is singing a song from Joseph and his Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat. He has changed the words slightly;

'Poor poor Daddy what you gonna do, things look bad for you Dad, what you gonna do?'!!!

PS. He is not missing his sister! Not one bit!!

Would you like one of these?!!

Our Saturday was spent sorting out Mums attic. They have just had it insulated. It was an interesting day, with outings to the dump and various charity shops. Just what you need on a bank holiday weekend! The dump was almost as busy as the motorway with queues and bad tempers in equal measures. Small Sprog fell in love with an old typewriter and cried when we threw it in a skip! I had no idea he had become so attached to it, he only spent 10 minutes sitting next to it on the way to the 'Civic Amenity Centre'. (What is wrong with 'dump'?!)

It all went something like this....

Me : So why don't you let me get up the ladder, that's why we're here. (Getting a bit tetchy, I mean, what is the point?)

Step dad (known as Pop) : No, I want to organise it up there.

Me: You've been ill. (And you've moaned about it for a week and a half!)

Pop: I can manage.

.

Lots of 'rummaging' (you'd have thought they'd have sorted out what needs to go back up and what needs to go to the dump before we arrived?!)

Mum: Do you want these?

I hope my face is not saying :OMG, what is that?!

Me: No

.

Later......

Me: Do you want this box to go up?

Mum: No, that can go in the recycling.

There are lots of files and really old papers in this box, and a few things with 'Inland Revenue' printed in bold at the top.

Me: Are you sure? Don't you want to have a look?

Mum: No, it's fine.

Me: What are these? (A scrap from the side catches my eye.)

Mum: Oh, those are petrol coupons!

Petrol coupons, I ask you?

Me: It has 1957 stamped on the front, they might be collectors items, shouldn't we keep them?

Mum: I don't think we'll need them.

Me: (exasperated)

.

More rummaging and sorting.

Mum : Do you want this?

She is holding up an old bean bag which was their ex-dogs bed. Has she noticed we have no dog?!

Me: (politely) No.

.

Me: You don't want these two kettles to go back up do you? The one you use is fine.

Pop: Yes we'll keep those, they can go in the attic.

Me: What for?

Pop: We might need them one day.

Me: Two of them?

Pop: One might not work!

I felt unable to comment on the logic of that one.

.

Mum: Do you want some...

Me: No!

Small Sprog: Granny, granny can I have this?

Me (Oh no!) What do you want that for?

Small Sprog : It's nice!

So we now have a lovely picture of an Alpine church (even mum had been wise enough to keep it in the attic) surrounded by alpine mountains and flower meadows, circa 1950's style. Lovely!

.

A bit later...

Pop: I'll put that old clock back up.

Me: Will it be OK up there?

Pop: Yes, sometimes I go up to wind it.

Me: You make it work? In the attic? (He really has lost the plot.)

Pop: Yes it drives your mum mad!

Me: It chimes up there?

Pop: Yes. (He walks away giggling to himself)

.

All the junk and almost junk is safely returned to it's home in the attic. The copious amounts of cardboard, which constituted a fire hazard, have been reduced to only two large boxes (full of small empty ones 'just in case we need a box'?!!) and it's about time we put the kettle on (but which one?!!)

.

Me: Where's he gone? (Pop is no where to be found)

Mum: I don't know he must still be up there.

Me: In the attic?

Mum: Yes

So up I go to see where he's got to. As my head pops up through the attic hatch, I can see his feet, then the rest of him, lying prostrate on the attic floor.

Me: What are you doing?

Pop: I was just having a lay down.

Me: I thought you were dead!

And so on!

Mum has a collection of lovely old children's books.
This picture is from Peter Pan with illustration's by Mabel Lucy Attwell.
(click to enlarge)

There has been no word from Tall Girl which is good I guess. Thanks to everyone who has commented, your kind thoughts are so appreciated.

Like a true nature's child.

Tall Girl is off to camp this evening. I have been feeling edgy all week. I know this is totally irrational, she is a big girl now. She says she wants to go, she survived school camp (not under canvas though) and I really need to get a grip! I have given myself a good talking to (which hasn't worked) and I've tried Blogging but everyone else is having a much more interesting life so there's no one in to talk to!

Husband is taking her to the camping field because he thinks she will pick up my anxiety (now what made him think that?!) and by 5.30 she'll be there and I am hoping for the 'out of sight out of mind' effect to 'kick in'?! If that doesn't work then there's the wine bottle to drown my sorrows but can I risk it? What if something happens and I need to go and get her back? Look, I know I'm pathetic. Writing is therapy OK?

On a happier note, Small Sprog was playing with is dragon collection before school this morning. He came down the stairs with one dragon egg under each arm. 'Look, I'm hatching dragons' he shouted at the top of his voice for the whole street to hear.

'Very nice' I mumble as I get on with sorting the dishwasher.

He leaves the kitchen by the other door and as he goes I can hear him singing 'Born to be wild...!

Where does he get it from?!!

And just in case you now have it in your head and want to sing along here's the rest of the words;

'Get your motor runnin

'Head out on the highway

Lookin' for adventure

And whatever comes our way

Yeah Darlin' go make it happen

Take the world in a love embrace

Fire all of your guns at once

And explode into space

I like smoke and lightning

Heavy metal thunder

Racin' with the wind

And the feelin' that I'm under

Yeah Darlin' go make it happen

Take the world in a love embrace

Fire all of your guns at once

And explode into space

Like a true nature's child

We were born, born to be wild

We can climb so high

I never wanna die

Born to be wild

Born to be wild

Small Sprog's collection!

Next to Small Sprogs bed are some jam jars, a specimen jar from the hospital and a couple of plastic containers. I know boys can be obsessed with collecting unusual objects but some specimens in his collection are just plain weird!

The less weird are the ones containing a butterfly wing, an ex-chrysalis, some dead beetles (best not to take the lid off this one because they have a strong smell of fish about them now!), a half disintegrated bee and something else that smells, but not as bad as the beetles.

Then there is the specimen jar (the sort the nurse gives you to wee in). This one contains a 20p piece which is a lovely shade of verdigris. It came by this colour through a purely organic process.

Back when Small Sprog was about 5, I left Husband in charge for the day while I went to a tutorial. They had had a good morning and, while they were out, Tall Girl found 20p on the pavement. She was pleased with her find and, most likely, gloated about it! Small Sprog howled that it 'wasn't fair', so he got one too. When they came home they took their money upstairs. Tall Girl (sensibly) put hers in her money box and Small Sprog ate his!

To cut a very long (and dramatic) story short, I met them all at the children's hospital where the nurses used a metal detector to find where the money was lodged. It was stuck in his oesophagus, just above the entrance to his stomach, but luckily it was wedged sideways so the he could still swallow his own spit. They took an x-ray and kept scanning him every half an hour or so to see if it had moved along his digestive tract. It did not! So he was crowned 'the human money box' by the nurses, who obviously had seen this sort of thing a million times before, and taken down for surgery. They took the money out using a long probe with a grabber on the end. The worst bit was when they put him under the anesthetic. I couldn't stop myself from wondering if he'd ever wake up again but he did, and was none the worse for wear.

We asked if we could keep the x-ray. The 20p showed up well behind his ribcage! But they wouldn't let us take it home so they bottled the coin for us (which has turned such a lovely shade) instead!

However the jar that Small Sprog is most proud of is the most recent addition to his collection. It is the one that makes me want to vomit the most. He organised this one himself, showing me with pride the other day. 'Look what I've got!' Yuck, I can't bring myself to look at it again. In this jar he keeps.........his verruca, circa mid April 2008. It was a very large one and he had become quite attached to it! I guess I should be grateful that he didn't eat it too!

At the table today, mid mouthful, Small Sprog slips something out of his pocket and places it proudly on the table. I braced myself. 'What's that?' I ask tentatively
'It's my special stone' he replied in a way that told me I had definitely asked a stupid question, 'it sparkles'.
'That's nice'.
He reached into his pocket again.
'Oh you have another one' I exclaim delightedly (not).
'Yes, and this'. He is animated now.
'Oh, that's just a piece of greaseproof paper' I say.
'No,' Replied Tall Girl, 'it's my bunny teeth!'

Sometimes I wonder if they are really anything to do with me at all.