Monday, 31 August 2009

New Man, New Pan

Husband yesterday. Decided to make pastry for pudding.
Which is lovely and All.
Flour to the Armpits.
Every surface Filled to Bursting with Detritus.
Quite a Lot of Bowls used.
And, inexplicably, a great deal of Cutlery.
'Now I can understand why they have Sous-chefs!' he announced cheerfully, as he tipped Another Set of Washing Up into the sink.
'Yes,' muttered Me. 'So can I.'
Plunging my arms into soapy water.

Friday, 28 August 2009

Knock, Knock, Who's There?

Wiping Youngest's bottom today.
'Mummy?' His voice muffled as somewhere near the floor.
'Knock, Knock.'
(Oh, God. A joke.)
'Who's there?' I say, busily wiping.
'Joke, Joke.' Says Youngest.
'What?' I say, somewhat puzzled. Even by his standards, this joke Stinks. Unlike his bottom which is now Pristine.
'Joke, Joke, Who?' asks Youngest. Returning to upright position.
I stall. Isn't it me who has to say the 'who' bit at the end?
'Joke, Joke, Who, Who?' I say.
Totally confused now.
'Dog,' says Youngest.
I laugh uproariously. At Some Length.
(Am Good At Appreciating Crap Jokes. Years of experience.)
Youngest stunned by obvious Success of Joke.
'Mummy, it's not that funny,' he says. Concerned.
'Well, I thought it was,' I say. Washing hands briskly and asking him to do the same.

Honestly. Sometimes you just can't win.

Thursday, 27 August 2009

Big Pants Galore

Oh My God.
The timing of the thing.
It is Simply Not Fair.
An Elderly Relation is staying with us for two nights, on the way home after a trip to U.S.A. The poor woman's suitcase has been carefully mislaid by the airline and is languishing somewhere in O'Hare Airport. She was a Bit Cross about it. And also had to wash some of her clothes so she could wear something tomorrow... I offered her my thongs and tassles but she wasn't interested. Honestly, some people are so ungrateful.
Anyway... once the Washing had been Completed (by hand) it was hung out on the line.
Vast Flesh Coloured Knickers. Pegged the right way up, as if the line were wearing them. Likewise Bra. Jauntily pegged up by the straps with the wind positively echoing around the cups. Next to them were brown linen trousers that looked Simply Enormous, taking up at least eight feet of the line. Wide. And a blouse sort of thing. All pegged the right way up. In a neat, lengthy line.
You couldn't miss the bastards if you tried.
I hoped against hope that no-one would arrive. Or that a rather Gorgeous Delivery Man wouldn't suddenly turn up with Interesting Wares.
Cue, Gorgeous Delivery Man with Interesting Wares. Obviously.
Up he trundled in his white van. Wandered up to the front door.
We opened said door to Vision.
Simply Heavenly. Tall and dark. Liquid brown eyes. Wonderfully Handsome. With, wait for this... an Italian Accent!! Thrilled I was. Especially as my children crowded around me in a very Italian sort of way when I answered the door.
'You like'a look at ma fish?' asked Adonis, smiling broadly, and stroking Youngest's hair.
I simpered back and followed him out. Followed his gaze.
Oh, no.
His eyes had wandered to the Washing Line. And there, waving gently in the breeze, were those Bastard Knickers. That Bra. His head whipped round as he took in the undergarments, and incredulously checked out my size.
I swear I could see a light dying in his eyes.
Didn't do much for my simpering, either.
Bastard Timing. They say it's the secret of Good Comedy. And the blinkin' secret of Good Tragedy too, I reckon.

Why, oh, why, wasn't this on the line?

No such bloomin' luck. He had to see this Sort of Thing.

Kind of Serves me Right, though.
Husband will find this Most Amusing when I tell him later on.

Monday, 24 August 2009

Home Again Again!

Home again! Lovely.
The only thing is that everything looks so damned Straggly and Long. Grass. Hedges. Cats. Legs.
Cheered and Whooped as we made our way up the drive on getting home last night. Then looked at Garden.
'Crikey,' said Middle Son. 'It looks a bit Manky.'
We have been staying at my sister's house in Essex. Vast Garden. Twinkling Swimming Pool. Neat. Pristine. Edges cut with Nail Scissors, type of thing. Pots of glorious flowers. Gorgeous views across golden fields. Everything in its place.
Not Like Here.
Scruffy lawn with huge daisies and buttercups everywhere. Mole hills. Dead Plants in pots.
Think I have Orderly Garden Envy.
My mind is all Straggly and Untidy too, with 'Must do This and Must do That' all running Full Pelt. (Is there Half Pelt? And does it have something to do with hair? And is it less Straggly than Full Pelt?)
Am Yearning for Order. Everywhere there is dust or cat hair. Huge piles of Stuff to be moved. Letters to be answered. Bills.
So had better turn this thing off and get started. Do you Make Order? Or Create Order? Or just Order Order?
Quite fancy the last one.
Could Order Order from Huge Deckchair whilst reclining with Vast Cafetiere of Coffee. Reading the papers. Shouting at people to do things. Heaven.
Better Get On.
Lawns to mow. Things to move endlessly about until they end up in the same place. Washing to put out to dry. Washing to bring in and iron. Washing to be put away.
Getting home is lovely but there does seem an Awful Lot To Do.
Mind you, wouldn't have it any other way.
(Except, perhaps, to have Staff.
Now that would be Very Good Indeed.)

Met a Blogger!! Absolutely Marvellous it was. He took us out in his speed boat, me and all my family (minus Eldest) plus friend and her little one. Beautiful day. Speeding about in places I haven't seen for years. And I got to drive too! (do you drive boats??) What a saint. It was rather like meeting up with family friend, except we had never met. Had such a nice time.
Thanks Hugely, Troy!

Friday, 14 August 2009

Essex Girl for a Week

Christ, we're off again.
Car once more neat and pristine. Washing all done and in little piles in each child's room. Suitcases ready to be filled. Cats sorted. Chickens sorted. Rabbit sorted. Fish sorted.
Middle Son cut his thumb yesterday which resulted in long boring visit to A & E. Two tetanus injections later and a large bandage on his thumb, we were finally released. Youngest had Enormous Fun going to the loo every few minutes, to enjoy the new Towel Dispensers. You pressed a little button and 'zzzzoooooommmmmmmmm'...out came the paper towel. Terrific fun.
Oh, and the Drinks Dispenser. I put 50p into Simply Vast Machine which coughed and gurgled.
Panic attack when we realised that hadn't placed a cup anywhere. But all was well, as cup placed Very Kindly by Vast Machine. We all watched in fascination as one minute later out came a Perfect Cup of Coffee.
Cor, said Youngest.
But, Gosh, can't hospitals be Dull Places.
Sat on Hard Chairs. Watched as cleaner went v-e-r-y- s-l-o-w-l-y- round the room with a duster. Then a huge machine came by that Polished the Floor. I know that because we asked the nice man who was pushing it. Youngest wants one.
Kept being called into small Extremely Small Airless Room to be asked some questions. You know, the ones we had just answered half an hour ago. Then were asked to wait again. Youngest almost eating his feet with boredom by the end. Kept hauling himself into my lap, painfully stepping on toes each time.
All's well that Ends Well, though. Middle Son coped Brilliantly with two horrid injections, eyes shining with tears but gritting his teeth and breathing hard, as instructed, by his mother.
'Breathe DEEEEEEEEP breaths... just like in child birth.' Made him smile, anyway.
So, nearly time to go. A morning of frenzy and furious activity. Children to tidy their rooms and get animals all ready for kind people looking after them. Husband and I to have lazy coffee before getting Extremely Cross about how the car should be packed.
And then?
Just swimming, tennis, family and Fun. Messing about in Boats. Maybe, and really exciting, maybe, meet a Fellow Blogger. How about that!!
See you in a week. No computer At All where we're going.

PS Just a little thing that happened on the way to the Hospital....

As you know, Poor darling Middle Son cut his thumb badly and we had to race to A & E.
On the way, poor child was heartily sick, just making it to the grass verge.
Daughter and Youngest in car with Kind Friend of Middle Son. Who had to be taken to A & E with us. Poor chap.
'Uuuuurrrrrrggggghhhhh,' went Middle Son, throwing up into grass.
Youngest cranes neck to watch. So does Daughter and Friend.
'What colour is it?' asks Youngest.
'Um, can't see,' reports back Daughter and Friend, also battling to watch the event with Great Interest.
'Is it yellow?' asks Youngest. Apparently Sick should be Yellow.
'Nope. It's white with bits in it,' Friend reports back.
'Damn,' says Youngest. ' I really fort it would be Yellow.'
And with that he slumps back in his car seat.
The Wonder of Brotherly Love.

Thursday, 13 August 2009

In Which Youngest is Very Proud and I am Stumped

'Have you sawn wot I dunned?' asks Youngest.
'No,' I reply. But I know he's going to show me.
Sure enough, he leads me by the hand to his room. Up the stairs. Round the corner. His little face all lit up with Expectation.
We walk in to his room.
Nothing. Just the same.
'Well, Mummy, can you see it?' he asks, excitement brewing.
I absolutely can't see anything at all.
'Course I can!' I answer cheerily. 'You clever boy!' I kiss the top of his head, scanning the room desperately for clues. I mustn't ask. It will deflate him like a balloon.
His cup overflows. His smile is from ear to ear.
'Fanks, Mum,' he says, all bashful. 'I knowed you'd like it.'
Down we come.
'What did he do?' asks Middle Son.
For a moment I am stumped.
'Go and see for yourself.'
Up Middle Son goes.
We hear him yell from the top of the stairs,
'What has he done? I can't see anything.'
Youngest and I exchange long suffering look.
Youngest yells up after him,
'I dunned it without being asken!'
I realise.
He has made his bed. Without being Asken.
I hug him tight.
These days are Good. So good.

Tuesday, 11 August 2009

100th Post! Well, not, as it happens...

Well, bugger me if I didn't go and do my 100th post and didn't realise!
And my 101st.
And my 102nd.
So this is my 103rd.
Just so you know. And that.
Started this blog back in October of last year. No comments for the first few posts. Then the joy of the first comment. I gave out a huge whoop of thrilled delight. Husband not quite sure what a Comment was.
'Is that good?' he asked, somewhat nervously.
And now?
Have found a voice in me that was buried for years.
(I think, perhaps, that Husband would quite like to bury it again.)
I, however, am chuffed to bits that I can write Stuff and that people can have a giggle. Spill coffee over their keys, type of thing.
Friends ask, from time to time, How is the Blogging going? (They say 'Blogging' as if it were some Odd Culty Thing. Which you might argue it is.)
I always say, 'Oh, it's brilliant, thanks!' Bright smile. It's no good telling them how much fun it is. What friends you find. What you get to say. Where you get to go.
They just look at One rather oddly.
Because it's more than fun. It's a New World. I love it!
Thanks, every last one of you, for comments and kindness.
Blogoshpere Rocks.

Monday, 10 August 2009

Home Again

Home! How marvellous it is to get back and wander round the garden, admiring rosy tomatoes in the green house and clucking over the state of the lawn.
Journey home very long indeed.
As we approached the last half hour (out of 5) children's conversation took a Plummeting.
How would you rather die? asked Middle Son to his younger siblings. 'In a lake of snot, or jump off a cliff?'
Youngest seemed to take this into careful consideration.
'Would we be naked?' asked Daughter.
'What, jumping off the cliff or in the lake of snot?' asked Middle Son in All Seriousness.
'In the snot,' chimed out Daughter and Youngest.
Middle Son gave this some more Serious Pondering.
'No,' he said at last. 'Fully clothed.'
Both Daughter and Youngest heaved sigh of relief.
'Lake of snot,' they chorused together.
Husband and I Exchange Looks.
When will this Bloody Journey Ever End.
As the children begin the next sentence with, 'How would you rather be murdered...' I interject with a cheery, 'Let's Count Trees!'
The children pause for a moment and stare out of the windows at the Huge Wood we are travelling through.
Back they go to the 'Would you rather be pushed off a cliff and get a wedgie or ...' conversation. We leave them to it.
Devon was lovely. Beaches and barbecues, tennis and golf. Walks and whiskies. Maybe not all in that order, but packed in there somehow.
Dial Up Computer, possessed by Grandmother, huge and grey (computer, not grandmother) caused Great Hilarity amongst the children. They could Not Believe the length of time it took to get connected.
What's that noise, they asked incredulously, to the Brrrrrriiiiiinnnngggggeeeeeeeooooooorrrrrrrrggggghhhhhhhhhchchchchchchchchchchc... noise, that dial up engenders.
'Welcome to the Nineties,' I said, somewhat sarcastically, as the ninth minute rolled on by.
The children looked Enchanted by the Old Ways of last century. Middle son at breakfast this morning pretended to do Dial Up, to the hilarity of his youngest brother and sister, who thought him Most Amusing. Actually, so did I. He was hugely funny.
So, here we are. Mountains of washing. Lawns to mow. Weeds to pull up. Cats to cuddle and hens to feed. And just under a week to do it all before we push off to Essex for another week.
I love the Summer Holidays.