Monday, 31 August 2009
Now quite tired out and enjoying a marathon of Eastenders watching - after being too busy this summer to catch up properly. Of course the right thing to do would be to accept it and wean ourselves off, or even more practical just watch today's episode. But, no, because I really do want to know what whatsername the Asian family will do about the late unplanned pregnancy. And they are strong Muslims. What next? Give it to her son? Give it up? To get fat or not??
Thursday, 27 August 2009
So on that note I'm off to the supermarket - after a dull morning at playgroup (not enough friends to play with) watching the children put boxes over themselves and lie in the mud. Even they got bored of it in the end and sought out the glue to make things - sadly there was disappointment when they realised the clever idea of gluing real wooden bricks together meant they could not take them home. And some poor soul will have to wash them to re-use them.
Kind of looking forward to a routine now -in all honesty am just not earth mother enough to be satisfied with watching delightful kids on beach/in park/in garden/playing ALL the time.
Wednesday, 26 August 2009
However I've been increasingly aware of a new garden menace; our ivy, which actually seems a bit poisonous. Not as bad as 'poison ivy' in the American teen books of my youth which must have been a special USA only irritant I think, but still not nice on your skin. So I've been slowly pulling bits down, trying to avoid the crazy haunted house look really, but also not liking the stuff. I've now noticed nearly every bit has gone both up the wall and fence, and down and along the ground - underneath other stuff. And the bits on the fence have sort of feathery sucker bits that stick themselves to the fence.
It's pretty indestructible, and it is determined to live and bear its bloody fruit. And I am thinking of it too much, and seeing it. Soon I'll be axing it.
Friday, 21 August 2009
Oh and I am still liking my family, although bit bored of talking to them after a week in quarantine, Actually, scratch that, I'm not bored of talking, I'm fed up of people talking to me endlessly about things very important to them but not me. Feel too guilty to list things I am not so interested in but lets just say they include a lot of things this week. Starting with everything in the poxy Argos catalogue.
Roll on Quarantine Free Saturday! and maybe even the beach, or Sainsbury's or something else Free and Fun. Like Walking About As Usual Up and Down the Hill.
Thursday, 20 August 2009
When I catch my husband sitting down next to my mum for a chat...
When the cat comes for a stroke and a cuddle even when she has food and water...
When I see an old man leaning on his wife as they walk down the road...
When my five year old is proud to take the recycling out on his own and does not expect anything for it...
When I buy a gorgeous crocheted blanket and it only costs a pound because the ladies who made them just want to make as many as possible and as much as possible for their charity...
When a happy, bouncy dog walks with his own frisbee in his mouth...
Wednesday, 19 August 2009
Five year old Ol was sick immediately after both his two doses, first time was extremely bad - made worse because he'd had several attempts to swallow the capsule first. Apparently The Man, in his wisdom has not got enough Tamiflu, so is saving all the liquid form for babies. Five year olds and under must learn immediately to swallow.
Then three year old J had a turn, sick first go, second go really really alarming. She was in bed at about nine in the evening, we heard a laugh and popped in to her room to find her giggling uncontrollably. She seemed to know we were there fairly soon and then started making jokes at us (e.g. Daddy you are big and pointing in a threatening comedy value). Tempted to run but worried her head might spin around, or worse she was hallucinating.
Edit:Just grilled J about her laughing, she says she saw my feet and was laughing at me. I told her I wasn't there - she said I was. Poor thing is having visions of me and my feet in the middle of the night.
And so to me...the other night Lovely M made a vegetarian shepherds pie for dinner (bear with me) but he added tinned tomato's, which to be fair are in the recipe but we decided some years ago against them in the dish. And they were just there - sort of slimy looking, and red. In fact the whole thing was a little red for me. I almost couldn't eat it but managed as is lovely after all to have dinner made for you - and seems a bit churlish to reject tomato's when I'd just eaten them the day before.
And to come to today - I made a normally lovely three bean chilli (from a low GI cookbook) and at the last minute of additions added some bloody tinned tomato's. I even carefully checked they were not the Bad Value Ones, but real - ish. The chilli was nice, but I was alarmed to see the tomato's just lurking there adding nothing. And now I can't get them out of my head.
I've been worrying about tinned tomato's for the whole day, you know that way when something obsessional pops in to your head every few minutes. And it just won't leave tomato's, tomato's, tomato's.
I'm expecting to wake up in the night screaming about them. Either that or painting some.
Monday, 17 August 2009
Lovely Ollie now has a temperature, has been sick lots of times, feels really ill and hasn't eaten all day (not even strawberry jam on toast). I went to the official website and it diagnosed swine flu. Of course the symptoms are very similar to normal flu, perhaps with sickness/stomach upsets added on. He's had the Tamiflu - bit of a nightmare actually, as apparently there is not much in liquid form so it is being saved for babies. Ollie tried to have his first capsules but pretty much manfully choked on them and then sicked them up. The capsules can be broken and mixed with liquid so that is the plan for the tea time dose.
M's been feeling a bit ill with a sore throat, and is apparently too ill to talk properly but says he does not need Tamiflu. Suspect whisky would save him but have no intention of getting carried away with medicinal booze again. Last time, think in the winter we just loved the rum remedy too much for two days!
Any/every tips all welcome - cool magazines have been bought, nice water offered and telly on at the moment. Saving Bolt for well moments.
Sunday, 16 August 2009
For a number of years I've been suspicious of how much fun barbeque's can be, compared to how much work you have to put in. I know this is largely because as a vegetarian, especially a very proper one for years I had extreme anxiety every time a barbie was suggested as I knew someone would be bound to use the same cooking fork for vegetables as the meat, or worse cook them next to each other with a potential juice/blood contamination issue.
The worst barbecue we hosted I think, was when we lived in Hackney. Lovely M and his friend decided to go to the shops to buy the food. I asked them to remember to get something for me. They came back with heaps of meat, cheap white rolls and ketchup. Not even a little bit of salad, let alone peppers, corn or aubergine or even worse the hideous vegetarian sausages that were around ten years or so ago. This obviously led to a domestic incident, and some sulking.
So yesterday we had a plan to have a proper barbie on the beach. We got quite excited about the idea, and nipped down to the fish market to buy locally caught something and prawns (which I eat these days for inexplicable reasons). After walking along the beach for a bit, we figured out that it was bound to be too windy to actually manage with a little disposable one and to go home and get the old cast iron faithful out (not in use for years and years but enthusiastically cleaned this year).
We made a lovely salad with seeds and leaves, got some french bread, put lemon and garlic in parcels with the fish and prawns - uncooked at that stage, and made some jacket potato's to be finished up on the barbecue. Oh, and of course we has a little white wine, both in the fish I think, and some to drink. Absolutely lovely, and as prawns and fish in little packets really easy to cook.
I'm a convert. We spent the evening sitting by the barbecue, then when it died down a bit, we put some wood on it as a outside fire. The children loved the food, and ate loads. Although Ol weirdly will only eat prawns like me rather than fish. He even invented a throw the cork as far as you can game that we were all a bit too keen on. Then children in bed, we drank more white wine and talked and talked.
Our barbecue is the same as the one above, but have to admit due to wine fuzziness can't actually leave living room to take photos of our version. Let's call it armchair blogging.
Wednesday, 12 August 2009
However today, I took my frugal make and do; 'how cool' attitude too far on my own jeans. They were wearing out on the seams (oh alright - because of my FAT thighs) so I chopped them off. Then was secretly pleased with how lovely they were, how exciting it was to be on trend in denim shorts, how amaxingly they looked OK on etc. etc. until I sat down. On a bloody kitcen chair! Then I remembered the true horror of shorts; it is all about the sit down test. Even as a young 16 year old and a size 10 my thighs were quelle horror to behold in shorts. And now as a grown up doubled in age, several dress sizes larger and with...hate to admit it but actual cellulite it was bad. Bad, Bad Bad.
Remind me of this dear readers, next summer when I start ranting on about needing shorts. And it means I must of course never ever sit down in my lovely new surprisingly flattering tankini which features little shorts. Never. Not even playing at edge of water. Must stand at all times - or strategically lie, but not on side as also Bad.
Is it just me? And my thighs? Or not....
Tuesday, 11 August 2009
I'm very proud of my blog today, it has achieved twenty thousand plus views. Of course a large portion of those just clicked and shut - particularly people looking up actual information about The Killers, or Chris de Burgh, or even slugs. (I know all this because of the very clever gadget on the bottom left of the blog).
But I've enjoyed blogging, developing my writing skills, getting to know new people, new sites and things, and mostly just a little down time in to my own head. So it is great to reach a high level of views, all I need now is an actual prize, or to get paid. Perhaps a little silver well done me medal, or...if I have to buy my own prize I have to admit I've been thinking about a new winter coat. And that will of course involve a trip to Bluewater, and some coffee and cake.
Anyway - thanks to all of you who have left comments good or bad, no not bad, just supportive or helpfully critical. More More More!
Thursday, 6 August 2009
Sunday, 2 August 2009
Then the second thing, well it is a few really. Firstly I keep getting a sweaty face. Which means my make up runs, and it is a bit embarassing as really it is over nothing. Like I might be walking on the flat ground. Or just standing still in a slightly warm room. Then I get really really tired. I've been like this for ages, so just assumed it is a mid thirties need for sleep or something. Some days I have to have a nap either after lunch or after tea. And others I'm just tired. I do have two small children, big hill etc etc. so could all be quite natural.
Then my final worrying thing; I keep getting all shaky, like from low blood sugar suddenly and having to eat. I've always been like this occasionally but seems to be coming on every day, and then I have to buy emergency snacks which are always rubbish and expensive and I'll put on even more weight etc etc. Of course now I'm saying this I could keep a healthy snack in my bag for these times and I will do..but spooky eh?
Looked all this up on the 'scare myself' google and found symptoms of diabetes Type 2 which commonly comes on between 35 and 45. Not worried about having it per se, well a little about never drinking again (or is there a low GI booze?) and loads and loads about having to squeeze drops of blood out of my hand.
Feel quite faint again. And I haven't even got to the bit where your toes fall off (why why why).