Sunday, 20 December 2009

The Most Important Thing

Today was a Tad Nippy.
Told Youngest to put something warm on before going outside.
'Because the most important thing,' I said, gravely, 'The most important thing is to keep warm.'
Husband nodded wisely over his cup of coffee.
Youngest disappeared out of the room to find his coat.
'Actually,' he said, coming back into the room. 'Being warm is not the most important thing.'
'Oh?' I asked, somewhat Testily. 'What is the most important thing then?'
'Well,' said Youngest. Thinking hard. And then he finds the words.
'Loveness,' he announced. 'Loveness is the most important thing.'
And he smiled his Glowing Wide Sparkling smile.
'And then keeping warm,' he added, before disappearing out of the front door.
What can I add?
Nothing. He said it all.

Monday, 14 December 2009

Some Like It Hot

Children had sausage rolls for their tea tonight.
Heated them up in the oven.
Placed them lovingly on plates with mashed potatoes and vegetables. To make up for the fact I was giving my children food Out Of A Packet.
Lit the Advent Candles.
Filled their glasses with water.
Checked the brownies baking in the oven.
Did a couple more Unbelievably Good Mother things.
Youngest checked out his plate.
'Don't really like hot sausage rolls, Mummy,' he announced.
'Oh,' said I, with Some Sarcasm, 'Well, unless I put them in the freezer, they will just have to stay hot.'
And I carried on with my washing up. A Woman's Work is Never Done. Etc.
Turned round to see that Youngest had eaten half his sausage rolls.
Didn't say anything. Just did a quiet YES in my head. As you do.
As I turned back to the washing up, could see Youngest in the reflection of the window. Nipping across the room and doing something.
Involving sausage rolls.
And the freezer.
Carried on watching.
Observed Youngest opening Freezer and taking out a handful of mini sausage rolls and returning to his seat.
And eating with Great Relish.
You have to acknowledge the Logic of the boy.
Don't like Hot.
Put it somewhere Cold.
Take out and Eat.

Tuesday, 8 December 2009

Fly Like An Eagle

OK. So what would YOU do? You're sitting on the loo. Busy. Half way through you hear the distinct and unpleasant sound of Buzzing. From Beneath. Sort of Vibrating in the bowl. Under Your Bottom. The buzzing seems to Eminate from a cross and possibly quite damp fly.

Do you:

1) Ignore it. It will go away.
2) Look between legs and hope that it will go away.
3) Worry about where might Fly might go if pushed to Shove, as it were.
4) Get up and remove Fly, thereby interrupting the Flow.
5) Lift one buttock to see if fly will fly out from space between buttock and loo seat.

I did Number 4.
Should have done Number 1. WHY didn't I do Number 1? Or Number 2,3,or 5?
Not a Wise Move.
Having Empathy for large Buzzy bluebottle flies under bottom is verging on the Ridiculous. No, not Verging.
Next time will forget the Saving Wildlife thing and do what is best for me and my Flow.
I put the brakes on so hard, as it were, that have probably pulled muscle in Pelvic Floor. Distorted Entire Area.
99% success. If you see what I mean. Which is damned good considering four children. Natural births. And all that Malarkey.
But wait!
Have saved the fly!
The little bastard flew out, after a little coaxing with wads of loo paper and a spot of Persuasion with the Loo Brush, and was last seen heading out of the window.
Problem is that it is most likely to be the same bloody fly I tried to Wallop this morning as it hovered above the butter on kitchen table.
You just can't win.

Thursday, 3 December 2009

Mystery Solved!

Awful smell in our kitchen the other day. Hot Sewage type odour. Inexplicable. Sniffed everywhere and cleaned each and every surface. Twice.
Husband came home and sniffed too. We pulled out panels from under cupboards to see if Cat has crapped under there. Hadn't.
Balanced precariously on top of kitchen counter, stretching up and craning neck against ceiling to see if Cat has crapped ceremoniously up there. Hadn't.
Cleared out each and every cupboard. Drawer. Book case.
No crap anywhere.
And today Roy, Middle Son's guitar teacher came.
Passing the time of day, as you do, when I opened fridge and Out Came Smell.
'There it is!' I yelled excitedly. 'Here, Roy, smell the fridge!'
He obligingly stuck his nose in there and inhaled deeply.
'Cheese,' he said.
'Dammit,' I said, somewhat despairingly. 'Not poo then?'
Give him his due, he didn't look at all phased at this query. He probably knows me well enough to realise that there is More To The Story.
In some despair I stuck my nose between the fridge and the cupboard next to it. A tiny crack about one centimetre wide.
'Oh My God That Is The Smell!!!!' The excitement. Roy kindly put his nose there too and recoiled in Disgust.
It was Truly Disgusting. Wafting out gently from between fridge and cupboard.
'Must be something dead down there.' I said. 'Cup of tea?'
Roy, looking a little weak at the thought of dead things lurking, nodded.
I bustled him and Middle Son out of kitchen and off they went for the lesson.
Husband came home not long after Roy had gone.
'Smell Mystery Solved!' I told him. Jubilantly.
And shoved him and his nose in the Crack. As it were.
He breathed in deeply.
'Yup,' he said, turning an ivy green. 'Definitely there. Will sort that this weekend.'
Now, bearing in mind that it was only Tuesday was not particularly thrilled by the suggestion.
'Let's do it now!' I said.
'Let's not!' said Husband.
'No, let's!' I said.
And so it Began.
Carefully pulled out fridge.
'Think we should empty it, actually,' said Husband, being a tad Male and Bossy.
'Nonsense!' said I. 'Let's just get bloody on with it,' being a tad Female and Bossy.
Carefully eased out the fridge. Which is one of those weird ones that looks like a door, but isn't. Because behind the door, stuck to the back of it, is a Fridge.
Nice to look at when in kitchen.
But Hell to take out to investigate Smells.
On pulling out fridge One More Fraction, there came from within Bowels of Fridge an almighty CRASH as Something Fell Down In It.
'Oh, dear,' I said. A little Perturbed.
At this point, the entire Fridge decided to fall on Husband.
Who landed on floor, holding fridge up with Left Foot and Determination.
I yelled. Loudly. Grabbing Fridge with right hand and left foot.
Thought about giggling but was too busy getting Enormous Beast of a Fridge off Husband, now lying with Green Tomato Chutney running down his leg and what looked like Raspberry Jam and Red Currant Jelly in his shoe.
Hysterics rising fast, yelled at Husband to get up and push.
From a Lying Down Position, Husband managed to cram Fridge back in from one side, while I heaved and pushed on the other.
Fridge slid back with satisfying clunk.
Husband got up.
Not a Pretty Sight.
Cream, chutney, wine, milk, jam, jelly and apple crumble were in a Glorious Muddle all over his leg, the floor and the entire front of the fridge.
'Um.' I said. Helpfully.
'Should have emptied it.'
Husband gave me one of those Looks.
Not a Long, Lingering, Hot Honeymoon Look.
Just a Short One. Devoid of Affection.
We then proceeded to take Every Last Item out of Fridge, cleaned the Bastard out, pulled it out again, this time with no Disastrous Consequences.
And Found The Origin of Smell.
Won't go into the rather Dull Details.
(Has anyone got this far in the post? You have? Well done!!)
Suffice it to say, took rather a Long Time to clear it all away.
Cleaned every surface. Again.
Husband had rather dull time on Internet looking up How to rid your Fridge of Smells. Which apparently 576,956 other people had also looked up.
Cleaned and cleaned.
And after about an hour or so, the kitchen looked sort of how it had looked about an hour or so before.
So that was good then!
Must remember to Listen to Husband's Suggestions.
Would save an awful lot of trouble.
And mess.
And time.
Trouble is, wouldn't be half so much fun.
I mean, what on earth would I blog about?! ;)

Tuesday, 1 December 2009

Time Out

I thought, mistakenly, that when my children were all at school, that I would have more Time.
I reckoned that I would be able to catch up on all those things that I hadn't been able to do for years. You know. Wipe bottom without audience. Finish a cup of tea. Finish a sentence. Eat.
Have light hearted cups of coffee with medley of friends, all with shiny hair and nice clothes.
Go shopping. Alone.
Let's see.
By the time I have cleared house of all Crap from day before and it is back to looking like it did the day before that, it is time to Do Something.
Doing Something is my favourite pastime.
But I never get to Do it because I have to do Other Bastard Things First before I can Do the Something that I Want To Do.
And when I finally reach that Mecca, that Mountain Peak of Possibility, when I can Actually Do Something for Myself... what happens?
Don't know what to do.
Totally Sad.
I start thinking things like should I actually clean out that drawer, the one with all the Chuffing Bits in it that Family dump there on daily basis. The drawer that is so full that I can hear distinct Sounds of Breakage when drawer is forced Shut.
Or Re-organise Daughter's Knickers Drawer.
Quite Dull things.
How often do I go out and Do Something that has absolutely no purpose other than pleasing myself?
Don't do that, really.
So. Will plant a seed inside my head to have a go at doing this Exciting Thing, even if is has No Point At All and is a Complete Waste of Time. If it floats my boat and makes me laugh, giggle, gasp or gape, I'll do it.
And perhaps then I won't get so damned Tetchy about doing all the other Bollocks that life throws in my direction.
Right. Must just clean out the lavatories before I... hey, wait!
Nope! Not today! Today the loos can fester and grow bacteria the size of large furry mice!
Because I'm going out.
Have Not A Clue what I will do.
Might ride a horse.
Climb a hill.
Go to beach and sniff the Ozone.
Eat. Alone. With Book. Heaven.
Choices, choices.
See you later!