Monday, March 31, 2008
Before the children were born I hardly ever spent more than a few minutes in the kitchen. Husband cooked and all the jobs were divided equally. No sooner did I give up work to look after my little darlings and all the jobs magically became mine. But now I'm working I could do with some help! I commented last night that I needed to do some stuff in the house today but didn't know how I would find the time.
'Oh leave it' he said.
'I can't keep on leaving it' I replied.
'Leave it, do it the next day or pack it in the car on Friday and we'll take it with us to Cornwall' was his solution! (We are away this weekend)
However today there was a slight change in the gender division thing. I returned home from work to find a note on the kitchen table (I left the house before him this morning), it said: 'I THINK THE WASHING MACHINE HAS BROKEN' (that's my line I thought to myself). It wasn't a surprise, it's been a bit dodgy for a week or so now. So I went out to have a look. Sure enough the machine had stopped and no amount of fiddling with the knobs and buttons would help. The door was locked shut and the water hadn't drained away. I wondered how many spare pairs of clean pants we all had left to wear. And weighing that up against when I would be able to wait in all day for a repair man, I phoned the number for a 'man that does' and spoke to a nice woman instead. She was full of useful things to try. 'Have you tried the filter?' she suggested, 'ring me back if that doesn't fix it'.
Half a (very precious) hour later, after trying to catch the water from the filter (in a controlled way!!) in a plastic bag (I know you're snickering) and knowing that there most definitely ought to be a better way to deal with this amount of liquid, I found the problem. Tall Girls jewelry, slightly mangled and caught tight in the filter. The garage floor is a little bit wet and most of the spiders that lived under it are homeless, but the machine is fixed. I am not just domestic goddess but also macho, get your hands dirty type female who can fix anything (sort of)!!!
So I just wanted to wave the banner for the fairer sex today and award the Wonder Woman clouds to the lovely woman who helped me fix my washing machine. Oh yes, and I do fuses and plugs too (he's not keen on electrics)!
Sunday, March 30, 2008
'You'll never keep it up, writing that diary' he says.
'It's not a diary in the normal sense' I reply.
'I've never kept a diary for longer than a few months' he continues.
'It's not really a diary' I repeat.
'I can't see the appeal'. (He's obviously not listening!)
'I enjoy it' I say, exasperated.
'You'll end up like the Borg Queen!' he quips.
I haven't kept a diary since I was 14 at which time I vowed never to keep one again. My stepfather had found mine and read all my secrets and you have loads of those at 14! (mostly about boys and related subjects). I got into a lot of trouble, although it was all quite innocent really. So you can see why I haven't kept one since, it sort of curred me of diary writing.
So this 'blogging thing' is quite strange, I write down some thoughts and publish it for anyone who passes by to read! Husband suspects attention seeking. He could be right. I tried to explain the need to communicate.
'I'm just of to the computer to find a picture' I mutter after tea.
'What picture?' he asks
'One of the Borg Queen' I reply.
'You see I'm giving you all the material now too!'
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
I have observed that girls in her class fall into two categories regarding boys. There are the disdainful girls, who look upon boys as very beneath them, juvenile and really not worth the effort (but apparently still worth dressing up for!) and then there are the girls who have already discovered the joys of flirting (I know they're only 11, it must be in the genes). Tall Girl belongs to the former and has already voiced her opinions regarding boys and dancing! (apparently they will just run around like children!).
Small Sprog is excited. He hates being on stage, as he was last night and gets 'stage fright' (his words) which is strange because on the dance floor he disco's like a dream! At the Christmas disco he mimed like a pop idol and performed a pretty mean 'air guitar'. On the other hand Tall girl wanders around all hunched up and shrinking into a 'if I stoop you won't see I've grown' sort of a way. However put her on a stage and she's ready to roll. Strange really.
As for me I'm on the sweet stall! It is a fairly entertaining vantage point both for the behaviour of the children and adults alike (which may provide some comic material). I shall savour the last school disco with my daughter (I think the senior event will be very definitely 'out of bounds')! It's not the greatest way to spend a Friday night but hey, I'm not really a disco Suburbia anyway.
PS. Have you visited and played with my Pollock at the bottom of my page?!!! Go on, scroll down and try it, it's fun.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
According to the RSPB survey the numbers of wood pigeons have increased by 665% over the last 30 years. That seems an awful lot, especially as most of them live in my garden (as discussed on Monday). We tried to complete the survey, back in January, here in our suburban patch. All you have to do is watch the garden for one hour and write down which birds land in it during that time (flying over doesn't count). Nothing landed. Nothing. Well apart from pigeons. Lots of interesting things flew over, Crows, Seagulls, Black Birds, Dunnocks, Heron, Pigs, but nothing landed. How did they know?
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
We have quite a long garden, which would be better if the builders in the '60's hadn't decided to put the garage in it. However they did, so it is quite narrow at the top but happily wider at the bottom.
Most of the time the garden is home to some (well lots really) of very annoying wood pigeons, who choose to copulate on the garage roof whilst we eat our breakfast (with no choice but to watch). Small Sprog is fascinated by the whole palaver, the cooing, puffing up of chests, the 'hopping to your partner bit' followed by the tail in the air (does my bum look big in this?) bit, followed by the inevitable, or not.... because sometimes the female has forgotten what comes next, lost interest and flown away! They're not the brightest of birds. I was watching one skulking on the roof the other day when a flurry of snow began to fall. A flake landed on its beak. It looked puzzled and a bit shocked (you can see I have studied pigeon body language!). Moments later another flake floated from the sky. Again the pigeon looked puzzled and a bit shocked......almost as if this hadn't happened just a second before, and then again... puzzle, shock! Obviously they have very short memories, perhaps that explains the persistent copulation too.
Anyway enough of the annoying pigeons. We now have residents in our Blue Tit box (much excitement) and something seems to be visiting the old teapot in the hedge. The Wren has been flitting about and the Robins are about quite a bit too. Our resident Black Bird looks absolutely fabulous in his shiny black feathers, (quite the 'bird' magnet) with his bright orange beak almost luminescent against the green of the lawn. He spruces himself up daily in our pond, usually when I'm out feeding the rabbits. It's nice to know it's not just us humans who have such ridged routines. We have also spotted a Garden Warbler, fresh from Africa (such a miracle they can do that).
There is frogs spawn in the pond, though that has been there for sometime. Small Sprog has lots to look forward to. Frogs are what he likes best, and lots of them, as long as they stay outside I don't mind.
Regarding yesterday, I survived, mostly by skimming the surface as it were. Husband remarked when we arrived home that step father looked older. I realised then, that I hadn't actually looked at him.
Oh yes, by the way, I took this Primrose picture in the gardens of Lacock on Saturday (just in case you were wondering).
Sunday, March 23, 2008
We shall be visiting my mum today. You have met her before in my very first post. She lives with my step father, whom I have not written about and will 'brace myself' to do so in the future! Things could go either way today in my home town suburbia. Husband is tense already. Small Sprog was awake at 5.20am due to Easter egg excitement, and Tall Girl has had a bit of a strop too and it's only 10.48am. I am steeling myself to be positive, but sometimes ...if you can't beat them, join them........ (goes off shouting....)
And a happy Easter to you all!!
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
There is a little pile of things on our staircase. It is always there. Sometimes it grows to such a size that people are in danger of their lives whilst negotiating the descent and sometimes it diminishes to a few scattered objects. However it is always present.
It is there because the items are waiting to be returned to their original places; hair brushes, books, coins, toys, all belong upstairs and everyone is too bone-idle to put them away.
The rule is...take up what belongs to you when you go! But it's so strange, no matter how big the pile, I seem to be the only one who can see it!
Ten things currently lurking on my staircase:
1. One pair of shoes (mine).
2. Mobile phone (mine) Oops perhaps it is my pile after all!
3. Double-sided magnetic darts game (Small Sprogs winnings from somewhere I can't remember).
4. A party bag (Small Sprogs, but the last party he went to was at the beginning of February, I hope he'd already eaten the cake, I better check that now).
5. One piece of cake (well, it was once).
6. Lots of paper (husbands stuff!).
7. A pile of birthday cards from Small Sprogs birthday in January and two valentines cards (no point in taking these upstairs until the Easter cards come down, they can all go up together!)
8. One stamp (From Tall girls collection, last viewed approx summer 2007).
9. 5p, 2p and some pennies (must be my pocket money!)
10. Things made out of modelling clay (objects of unknown form, made as Christmas presents and abandoned).
All this.........and more! Whats lurking on your stairs?
Thursday, March 20, 2008
But it is seasonal!
This is our very own Easter Bunny.
Her name is Ruby, (look into her eyes!).
We sing her the song (Kaiser Chiefs) but she's a bit deaf (design fault).
She's greedy, not very clean and there's not much going on between her ears, but I thought she deserved her moment of fame!!
Husband mumbles about garlic and red wine when he occasionally wanders past, it's not really funny any more.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
My friend at blogbs5 has started calling me Suburbia. I quite like the sound of it, so I'm trying it on for a while.
My previous post name was Billy and was assigned to me when I was about 14. I used to have a Saturday job at a local hairdressers. I earned £4 a day (no one had heard of the minimum wage then) and worked for the owner (who was my friends mum) who can only be described as a dragon! She may have been bleached, manicured and quaffed (a divorcee with the overdone 'all woman' look!) but beneath she was still all dragon at heart. The other girls (stylists, in hairdresser speak) were Gina, whose husband regularly threatened her, or some one else with a knife (no one mentioned domestic violence in those days either) and Helen, odd and devoid of character, poor thing!
I worked from 8.30am to 6 and 'perched' to eat lunch for about 10minutes during the designated time (never actually at lunch time, if we were busy then Dragon was on the case!). The constant washing of hair gave me dermatitis, and the standing would have given me varicose veins, if I had been older! My parents laughed when I arrived home hardly able to stand! (well I was a teenager).
I was christened during this time, by Gina. Billy rhymed with a sort of shortening of my 'given' name, which I've always hated. So I gladly became Billy. All my friends at school eventually knew me as that and even now I still sign birthday and Christmas cards to my mum by that name. When I met husband, though, he found it difficult to think of me as Billy because he had a male friend who went by the same name. The thought of me as Billy didn't 'do' much for him, so I returned (sadly) to my more boring incarnation. I moved to Bristol as a non-Billy, so I now don't really have any friends that ever knew me as such. For a while I mourned my former self.
However bs5 (thanks by the way!) has nudged me into a new transformation! I was, after all christened Billy in my teens. Is it still suitable?! No I think not. Suburbia sounds more grown up, refined even!!! (Little do they know!) So excuse me if I have confused you through my comment posts. I am the same me. Only with a new and sophisticated persona.You can judge over time if it fits! Meanwhile I am hugging it to myself like a new blanket.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Must go my bucket beckons
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Thursday, March 13, 2008
I also thought you may like to see Small Sprogs garlic! He grows it in our garden and loves to eat it roasted. Loads of it. Hopefully there will be some on the menu tonight and then I will be immune to him for a while!
I took this picture in one of the hot houses at Kew around this time last year. I edited it a bit!
Thought it matched my wall paper
quite well! Don't you think so?
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
I hate the dentist. However I don't want the children to catch the phobia, so it's always a little 'edgy'. Today was no exception. They voted me first in the chair. So I was given some specks and duly reclined whilst gripping the arms of the chair for grim death.
My dentist proceeded to prod around a bit and then used an instrument to squirt a sudden rush of cold air into my mouth.
'What was that?' piped up Small Sprog.
'Just some air' said my dentist.
'Oh some air into mummy's mouth.........goes into her mouth' he started singing, while I have several sharp instruments filling my mouth, unable to hush him. I knew where this was going but I was helpless. He hums for a while and then repeats the beginning of his song again and finally he found it. The words for the end of his song,
'and out of her bum, fart fart fart!'
My lovely boy!
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Monday, March 10, 2008
Sunday, March 09, 2008
The houses in Acacia Avenue were all built during the sixties. Not the most inspired of architectural eras, and when we moved in seven years ago some houses still had their original aging occupants within. They had moved into new family homes forty years ago and liked it so much they had stayed. However over the last few years the original occupants have slowly dwindled, either to homes, hospitals or hearses. Their demise has also brought about the end of the net curtain!
When we arrived nearly every house had them, in varying shades of grey, nasty ugly cataracts over the glassy eyed windows, leaving the outsider blind to what lurked beneath and the occupant in a twilight zone of curtain twitching and one by one they have disappeared.
So as I lifted my mug to my lips I was faced with a pair of very inelegant breasts on full show from the bedroom window of the house diagonally opposite to ours. It was not a pretty sight. I may once or twice in the past have thought that happening over someone else's nudity might be quite erotic! How wrong I was. And it was not a brief look either, ( I poked husband and he cursed as a drop of tea spilt over the side of his mug) , ''look at number 29!'' She might as well have been waving to us. Maybe all those net curtains were a blessing after all.
If you're wondering about the picture, it is Small Sprogs wellies during a Sunday afternoon walk. Well you wouldn't have thought much of me if I'd posted a pair of inelegant breasts would you?!
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Friday, March 07, 2008
On the other hand Tall Girl is trying on a new persona. She has come down for tea for the last two nights with eye liner on, the thick, black sort. I did mention that it was unusual just to put it under your eyes! I have a feeling she is an Emo in waiting.........
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
My 'real' dad, natural father, he who disappeared when I was 8 - or whatever you want to call him- lives around 2 minutes drive from my 'real' mother. Strange that she managed to keep that a secret for over 30 years, must have just slipped her mind!
Anyway, I met him, or rather re-met him, about 6 years ago. I'm not bitter. No, really I'm not. He fell in love and left, simple really.
Anyway, since we re-meet we have kept in touch mostly by e-mail. I try to avoid his phone calls by leaving the answer phone on because once he starts we can be on the phone for hours, I also visit in the evenings occasionally.
We seem to live in different time zones! We may look almost identical (well hopefully being female I do have a slight edge in the beauty stakes) but my body clock is way out of sync with his.
My day starts at around 5.30am right now, with small sprog slamming his door shut, snapping on his light and revving up his Nintendo DS before re-opening said door, and galloping along the landing to expel what sounds like a medium sized Niagara Falls from his bladder, before racing back again -Nintendo in hand with Star wars theme on full throttle- to his cupboard sized room.
On the other hand 'real' dad gets woken up by hungry cats around 9.30am. So by the time I arrive around 7.30pm -having relieved myself of the bedtime routine- its only about tea time (the afternoon sort) in his universe.
This is fine you're thinking, but no it's defiantly not fine! I need to be in my middle aged bed by about 10.30 to have anything like enough patience for the next days onslaught. But 'real' dad has his supper about 9.30pm. What should I do? Race off before supper even though I know that the best biscuits have been bought specially for my visit? Really, the conversation has often only just got going by then. Or do I resist the urge to rub my eyes (small sprog style) whilst doing a 'closed mouth yawn' -which still makes your eyes water anyway which is a bit of a giveaway-and enjoy the best biscuits therefore doing my daughterly duty? I don't have the heart to do the former, so I sit and eat and talk some more until I really HAVE TO GO. This is usually 11ish and with an hours drive home, it is way beyond my tempers ability to be kept the next day. But for 'real' dad and his wife it's still only early evening. They've only just started to warm up! The good bye bit is unbelievably long ( at the end, lots of shuffling on both our parts, the kissing is still a little awkward) and once I've gone they're up for a bit of web surfing into the small hours, only slipping into their respective nighties at about 2am.
So my Wednesday (today) started around 12am with me crawling into bed and within what seemed strangely like a few seconds Darth Vader seemed to be loudly snorting in my right ear. My god was it 5.30 already? Oh thank heavens..... no just husband remembering to breath (you know the sort where they stop for a few seconds and then breath in such a big breath their sinuses nearly collapse) Its only 4am. I have at least another hour and a half, if Darth buggers off that is.
Monday, March 03, 2008
My mothers idea of a good day out; shopping (the window sort, with no intention of purchasing anything, and it was bloody freezing today) and then lunch amid the polyanthus.
The shopping was in what was my 'old home town', which, I thought may prove interesting. A chance meeting with an old friend perhaps? I found myself looking at the faces of people and trying to decide if I had been at school with them. They all looked sooooooo OLD. No one recognised me either.
'Isn't it nice to relax?' she said as we walked along in a head on force ten from the Arctic, 'you need to relax after the sort of Mothers Day you've had!' I should never ring her to let off steam about the children.
It occurred to me that she thought this was what I really wanted to do. In which case, I wonder what she really would have chosen to do for her belated Mothers day?