Monday, 29 June 2009



Aren’t they sweet? We did end up with another, the little boy on the left is Tizer, and his sister on the right is Tab. No, I didn’t name them. Sigh.

They are recovering well, although they are very young, only around five weeks. They did start off being syringe fed, and then finger fed, but they picked up lapping from a bowl really quickly. They hate their medicines, and spit at us when we give them, but are otherwise very tame. Tizer in particular is very affectionate and playful so far.

Saturday, 27 June 2009

All Three are the Charm

Thursday: The car. Finally. We bought a new car. We’ve only been looking for three months! However we found a car that fits all my requirements – especially that “made by Chrysler” thing - and it’s like driving a monster truck! Still, nice to have a reliable car so we can get away for weekends again.

Friday: Except we can’t. Get away for weekends I mean. Because last night we had a new arrival – and in all likelihood today we will be getting another! Unnamed, very poorly and very very young…

cat Here he is. Aww!

Name suggestions welcome please. Thing Two suggested Lolly and Pop. Thing One suggested Fish and Chips. Both are being ignored.

Saturday: Got back from taking poorly kitten to vet just now, and found a letter from Thing One’s school. Any parent with older children know The Fear these things bring, so I ripped it open and… she’s been nominated for an award. Oh my… {sniffle}…. am so proud.. can’t speak….

Tuesday, 23 June 2009


What do I hate the most?

Well yes, okay, moths rank up there quite highly.

Yes, fine, I detest rudeness.

Counting years… yes, that too.

But above all else, what makes me the most uncomfortable? Yes, you in the fuchsia? Talking about myself, right! And right now I am having to write 100 words about myself for a charity. It is taking forever. I’m on sentence two, which has been re-written 16 times already. Sentence one needs polishing too.

Why am I labouring this so much? I can witter on mindlessly here. Why can’t I do the same THERE? I’ve actually come here... to talk about myself, natch… as light relief. The thing is, you see, is that this has to be a positive piece and who in hell is comfortable bragging about themselves? I can do self deprecating as easily as breathing. Belittling is easy. Commendation… well isn’t that just a touch conceited?

There’s a reason I work for myself you know. I can’t write my own C.V. either (resume for those of you on the wrong side of the pond). Sigh.

Saturday, 20 June 2009


It was my 13th Wedding Anniversary this week. Bleurgh. We tend not to actually celebrate our anniversary as much as use it as a pawn in our constant one-upmanship. So, if one of us happens to remember  – unlikely, since we aren’t actually sure of the date and have to look it up, but it has happened – we hug it to ourselves like a delicious secret, with the sure knowledge that we know something and our opponent doesn’t.

This year, I remembered. I waited all day listening to the sound of his silence on the subject. Later in the evening I slipped out and bought some flowers and chocolates. Gave them to him with a flourish – Happy Anniversary Darling, I cry, with an expectant look on my face. He fumbles. It is joy to watch. He completely forgot and I wrong-footed him.

I win!

Ally thinks I am a bit weird to be happy that he forgot our anniversary. I think she can’t have been married long enough to realise the skill required to outmanoeuvre your opponent. She doesn’t think her husband is her opponent. I say HAH!

She also thinks I am a bit weird because of this:


This is my arm, the day after donating blood. I have given blood lots of times and I have never bruised. I have had innumerable blood tests. I don’t bruise. This butcher got hold of me and that bruise is huge and sore and it is so COOL!!!!!!!!!!

Thankfully it is t-shirt weather and I get to show it off.

That isn’t weird, right?

Monday, 15 June 2009

In Which I Have A Nervous Breakdown

“Oh for Goodness sake. If you are going to cry then you can’t come. Stop sniffing. Sigh. Just stop it, stop it now, or you are staying home!”

Harsh? Maybe. But Thing One didn’t want me crying all over her when I dropped her off at school for her trip to Barcelona and needed me to pull my act together. So I sucked it up, and didn’t cry… until after I had dropped her off and got home, anyway.

Can I quickly point out to Barcelona airport that YOU SUCK!? Checked their online arrivals to ensure she had landed safely. No report. Checked again. Nothing. Checked again. “This flight has been delayed or cancelled”. That is…. not good.

Checked her departure airport. Their departures board only shows flights leaving soon, not those already left. Gah. Phone their flights information line. Automated. “Please state the flight number”. Did so. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand you. Please type the flight number into your handset.” Okay. “There are no flights at that time.” What? I didn’t say anything about the time. “Would you like to check a different time?” Fine. Say the time. “You are checking flights to Cairo. Is that correct?” Headdesk. No! “Please state destination.” Barcelona. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand you. Are you a Martian?”


Repeat the above several times. Yes, really.

Send incoherent email to Posh and Ally. I may have mentioned that my daughter was “lost in space”. Ahem. {Blush}.

She has arrived now, since she texted me to say so. But the online arrivals board? Is still showing that the flight hasn’t even left yet. I think I’ll get drunk the day she flies back.

Saturday, 13 June 2009

Going Away

‘Fess up. Whose asinine, foolish, stupid idea was this? Who thought that it would be okay for my First Born to go on a school trip – not just across a few town boundaries but across international borders?? I know it wasn’t my idea, I remember saying a very firm no before Himself over-rode me. Maybe now he’ll realise that my decisions are right and his are wrong? Because in less than 48 hours time my baby is getting on a plane and flying away from us. And it is killing me!

Actually, apart from all the mental anguish, the “whatifs” (which need to be buried in a very deep pit and not brought to light again until she is home), the simple logistics of it are bugging me too.

They must take, for example, exactly this amount of clothing, including this amount of towels, this amount and type of footwear and must pack it all in a space exactly 30x15x15 which isn’t actually all that big you know.

They must bring a packed lunch for the first day including a drink stored in a clear re-sealable container of less than 100ml. Which is physically impossible, but hey.

Worst of all, though, is that I must have her packed and ready to leave the house at 5.30am. Aaarrgghh. Do you remember the days when you only ever saw 5.30am as maybe a bit late, on the way to bed after a good night? And not as a ridiculously early start? 5.30am. Ugh.

I’m still looking for an excuse to ground her for some minor infraction, because I’m telling you – she is not going. Sniffle.

Monday, 8 June 2009

Friends, Romans, Countrymen

R.I.P Harry, father of Himself and Silly and Grandfather to Things One, Two and Three.

15.07.45 – 02.06.09