Thank god for imagination

Well, i should never have claimed my engineering skills were all that.  What was i thinking?  It would last til the weekend?  No, it collapsed last night (as i brazenly left it out and didn’t put it in a shed, mistakenly believing that we were living in a warmer clime than we are).  It must be said that my enthusiasm for construction waned somewhat towards the end of Tuesday, so you can imagine the vim that i had for it this afternoon…so we opted for ‘imaginary’ repairs.  Though i did paint some splurges on a ‘dashboard’ so that it could land and take off, and the wings worked (and the doors, had to be very specific with which sized buttons did what etc etc).  Wee man was apparently genuinely upset when i had to break the news to him that we would not in fact be able to go into outer space at the weekend in his spaceship.  The line between imagination and reality is indeed very thin at 3 and three quarters.

In other news, i had an eventful morning of muppetry.  Walked through the lovely park alongside the river to the swimming pool, signed up no1 child for swimming lessons, went to pay…had lost my purse.  So came back home (round trip of over an hour).  Panicked.  Still no purse.  Put the hat down for a nap, and got a call from the swimming pool – they’d found my purse.  So with the prospect of another hour long walk ahead of me, i opted to try her out on the bike seat.  Well, it was quicker.  But boy did she not take to the helmet.  She managed to get it off twice and spent the whole time yelling and pulling at it.  Though when she forgot momentarily that she hated the hat she seemed to quite enjoy herself, pushing and kicking at me to go faster and ‘weeeeee’.  She’s totally the opposite to her brother, who timidly took the helmet and sat quiet as a mouse on the back.  Hey ho, tell me something i didn’t already know.

Right, off to another committee meeting.  I’m saving the anecdotes up for a mammoth dump (hmmm, nice image), once the festival’s over and i’ve gathered my thoughts on how best to progress.  You can imagine.  We’ve really only just begun and already i’m having to do a lot of rumination, biting my lips and biding my time…

His choice of welly boots definitely adds to the appeal of his builders bum

Oh yes.  Not only am i becoming a one-woman expert in fantastical miniature railway construction, but i have now graduated to, ahem, garden sculpture.  Almost as a direct result of the council no longer collecting cardboard, we have started recycling in our own creative(?) way.  This is a spaceship, for those who may be a little lacking in imagination.  It has a little way to go, but should entertain for at least a week…the length of time i’m optimistically giving it until it falls apart.  If only i could add this to my CV, considering the triple aspect, folding door and ‘go faster’ flaps, it should be a real boon.

Coronation chicken eh? Coronation schmoronation…

Dragon-bait

However, this weather is not helping.  Although we were able to make an excursion on Sunday, being cooped up inside with the kids, with the certain knowledge that there’s loads of lovely places to go and see, is starting to get to me!!!  We nipped over the border on Sunday to go and see Powys Castle.  Which is actually quite fabulous.  Or not, my expectations may now be so low, combined with some kind of cabin-fever, that i seriously can not make any judgement calls.  However, it was of course free…and lovely for walks and picnics, and imagining yourself to be slaying dragons etc etc.  So generally ideal for all the family.

Meanwhile, the cauliflower heads have been staging flash mobs – taking over shops and queues as if their hearing aids are implants that want to swarm together.  And the broccoli sprouts are in-charge at both starfucks’, meaning that even if there’s no queue (cauliflowers and broccoli’s apparently don’t mix), you’ll still be waiting over 10 minutes, as teenagers just simply don’t get urgency.  So, a simple trip into town to post a letter and pick up a take-away coffee can take 45 minutes.  hmmm.

And whilst i’m on a bit of a moan…moving to the country, contrary to my misguided calculations, does not give you a cheaper cost of living.  Quite the opposite.  Dry cleaning?  Alterations?  Unfeasibly expensive.  Adam and i spent a weekend a while ago literally pinging from one dry cleaner to the next, in shock.  Petrol?  My god, we’re starting to become the kind of people who cluck as we pass garages, checking on their prices.  Suddenly it matters.  Before, where the car was used for high days and holidays, and petrol stations were so one-a-penny, the price wasn’t so important (nor i think was there much difference, but that’s just a jealous feeling, as obvs i never actually looked), but now, since it’s an every day staple, it matters.

Agh

Please let the weather improve soon…

Obvs we went there over a week ago, when there was still a sun in the sky

Billed as the biggest roman ruins, EVER.  With the largest, tallest, most expansive real live roman wall, EVER.  As featured on the SENSATIONAL C4 ‘documentary’ with the salt o’ the earth jobbing builders re-building an entire house from scratch!  Using only Roman tools!!!!

Perhaps you can sense our disappointment at the site of a small field with some bricks, and across the road a gaudy looking villa.  Not to sound too snobby, but darhhhhlings, once you’ve been to pompei, rome etc, one becomes a bit spoiled and expectant at the prospect of ruins.

However, the villa was quite fun; wonderful views, with a few modifications could be a fantastic house.  And perfectly suited for the cauliflower heads to visit (no stairs).

This is my most favourite new argot.  It’s what they call all the old codgers driving along, dangerously close to changing up to 3rd gear.  We’ve slightly adapted it, and now also encounter broccoli heads, our generic catch-all for bumpkin drivers.  Aghhhhh, they’re bloody everywhere!  Though, there is one thing to be said about them, they know how to use a slow lane.  There is genuinely a marked difference in driving that i’ve noticed.  As soon as you enter the M54 and on into Wales, people actually use the slow lane.  There’s no cruising around in the middle.  It’s all very polite and civilised.  The downside of course is that there isn’t many double or even triple laned roads around this way.  But, still….

Considering the size of the prize, the reward was somewhat disproportionate to what was actually in the loo...

And then, i think somewhat by mistake, he did it!!!  And so, small buzz and dragon were released from their top-shelf prison boxes.  And then again…and dragon and a slinky came down.  And then again…in fact, he started managing to pop out tiny deer-sized pellets, just to get a new toy each time (again, somewhat defeating the ‘big’ reward theory).  But, the psychological barrier was finally  broken.  And so  now, having exhausted the toys and the Buzz’s, we’ve moved onto jelly babies (aghhhh, open packets of sweets, taunting me…on top of the chocolate…), and soon, if we’re lucky, we can forget all about rewards as it will be normal and fine.

But dear god is it a blessed relief!  Not to have to be physically close and wiping shit up from at least one child.  We SHALL NOT be leaving it so late with the hat.  If we’re lucky, we’ll be done with the whole nappy/potty thing in about 9 months time!!!  My god, the end is nigh!  And bring it on!!!!

I was going to write a nice, put potentially slightly dull blog  (a mid-season filler if you will) about the weather, and it’s insane vagueries, but events have superceeded that.  And the pictures will suffice to tell that story.

No, what happened yesterday has scared me.  Nay, shocked me.  I think that i have pre-maturely reached middle-agedom.  If there are 7 ages of man (sexist bloody shakespeare), i think that there are 7 signs of middle age, and am currently ticking most of the boxes.

1.  You’re over 40.

(admittedly i’m still a few years off this, but if you’re only as young as the man you feel, then i’m well over…)

2.  Hangovers are totally disproportionate to the amount of booze that you’ve consumed.

(probably something to do with the infrequency of opportunity…)

3.  You can’t lie-in.

(GUTTED)

4.  You have turned into your mother.

(can give you a million examples of this, but the latest is keeping the satsumas in the fridge, even no1 child has started commenting that i’m doing things ‘like grandma’)

5.  Conversations about the local schools are interesting.

(hmmm, not only interesting, but i can even join in, and have been known to initiate one or two, shame)

6.  Foundation suddenly seems like a good idea.

(cor, it don’t half make a difference)

7.  You join the National Trust.

(and this is the real crux of the matter.  We nipped off to Attingham House to have a quick butchers and kill a few hours over the Easter break.  No quicker could the receptionist ask us for £20 just to go in, than i’d signed up to a year’s membership…money well spent.  Could easily spend another 4 or 5 days at Attingham House.  It’s pretty amazing, and there’s nothing quite like walking round a grand house pretending that it’s yours.  Plus, we can now park for free in a whole load of random, isolated car parks.  Brilliant.  And we’ve got a car sticker and everything…oh yea, rocking the estate with a national trust sticker look like you wouldn’t believe.)

ah well.  At least i’m back into my pre-pregnancy jeans (pre-middle aged jeans), just hope i can carry them off now that i’m officially old!!!

No sooner was that over, well i say over, but it’s still hanging around…than she developed some heinous stomach bug.  Bloody Nursery.  Which, btw, she seems to be settling into OK.  In that she’s eating, though not sleeping, and not crying for hours (i like to think).  So the stomach bug started on Sunday, with some delightful projectile vomit.  Poor Betty the dog, who was visiting (much to both kids amusement) along with Granddad Peter and Penny, narrowly missed having to have a bath.  However, she seemed fine, a bit off her food, but since she eats better than no1 child most days, i wasn’t too bothered.  Monday saw some fantastic poo explosions, but again, she didn’t seem bothered in herself.  And so to Tuesday, or rather Monday night.  No1 child woke up in the middle of the night in a pool of puke, which i couldn’t deal with, as was having issues last seen in India myself.  Dear god, i was knocked for 6.  Couldn’t move for about 24 hours, apart from very quickly to the bathroom, and Adam had to stay home from work to look after the 3 of us.  Hat still exploding periodically, but fine in herself…did attempt to put her into nursery, but was quickly called to retrieve her.  Wee Universe however just not right in himself, though luckily, to date, no explosions – which may intact  be worse as he’s keeping it all in?  So, apologies for the TMI, but hey…i do like to share.  I’m fine now (a couple of pounds lighter – wahey), but both the hat (fine in herself, but still exploding down below) and little man (not fine in himself, but still no explosions) are still suffering, poor lambs.

But the big news is, the hat’s crawling!!!  Well, i say crawling, she’s still not worked out that she can travel large distances, and complains vociferously that she has to move at all, but there is definite knee and arm action going on.  Have been saying “won’t be long now” for so long now that i’ve bored myself, but hell, just for the craic, it shouldn’t be long now til she’s really annoying no1 child!!!  And possibly me.  Might have to get those stair gates up, finally.  Though, probably won’t need to really get them up for a while eh?  No point over exerting ourselves and actually doing something around the house in good time.  Not when there’s still pictures to put up from September.  Ahem.

In light of all the above, you can see why i’ve been struggling to get a decent picture of them.  Below is far from decent, but at least they don’t look too ill!  And shows off our wonderful garden!!!  All my own work, obvs.  Just don’t tell anyone about the gardener that comes with the rent.  Thank God.  It’d look like a hay field if we had to sort it!

Now, in London, one is so far removed from almost anything that happens outside your door, as to make you completely immune to it (or perhaps that’s just me and my ostrich tendencies?).  Anyway, who knew that you can’t put baby wipes down the toilet?  So, after 6 months of glibly doing just that, it finally caught up with me.  The day before the landlord turned up (determined bless him to solve the problem himself) i had a passing thought that perhaps that might be the issue, but dismissed it obvs.  Of course, the day at which everything all had to be sorted was also the day that i had the sub-committee over to my house for the first time.  In an effort to impress, and to possibly mask the smell, i baked a massive coffee and walnut cake, so was looking quite the domestic goddess as the land lord and lady rocked up.  Well, in my head at any rate.  And so, as they opened up the drain, and the full extent of our negligence came to light (um, EUK), i soon realised that, no matter what the landlord and Peter did with rakes and sticks and other things, that they were not going to fix the problem.  Still, at that point i was gloriously, stupidly, unaware that there might be bigger implications than just my drains.  Never occurred to me that i might have managed to fuck up the entire street’s….well, not until i mentioned it to the mums at nursery whilst picking up no1 child, who then pointed this out to me.  As i walked back from nursery, i kid you not, the council had men sorting out a drain just down the road.  As our little universe was busy trying to make conversation with the men in the big yellow flashing interesting truck, i grabbed his hand and ran with the (valid) excuse of having to get back for the committee meeting (and dyno rod).  Two days ago, there was another council drain truck parked outside.  No one’s dobbed me in yet (cakes and puddings working a treat), but am literally waiting for a knock…and a fine?!?!?  Anyway, lesson well learnt.  I promise!

And so to the power cut – another country episode ticked off my box.  Might have been more dramatic if it hadn’t happened about 10 mins before my ridiculously early bed-hour.  None the less, i ventured outside to see who else was affected…not really expecting to see anyone…and i’ll be honest, my trooosers might have been a wee bit undone (nothing that couldn’t be covered by my jumper, but still, a bit too relaxed really).  Was staring at the stars – cor they were properly amazing, when was surprised by Paul and Tilly proffering candles, as they rightly guessed i didn’t have any to hand.  Though, being the hardy city chick that i once was, had been coping brilliantly with the light from my mobile phone.  Ha!  Who needs candles?  Actually, was lovely to have a few candles lit, if only briefly.  Needless to say, woke at 3am to find all the lights on etc etc, at least i had remembered to actually turn the telly off.

Pics and news of kids tomorrow i promise, as we enjoy the continued amazing weather and our fabulous garden.  Paddling pool out tomorrow…