Tuesday, 29 September 2009
And to end with a quote; ' Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.'
And even more importantly, maybe that was what this blog was; a chance to catch up with myself at the end of two very busy years. And a chance to reflect on the changes in my life; from children, to moving from London, from having money to not having hardly any at all. And on not working. These changes are all utterly bedded in now, and I feel right at home in my tatty house in my tatty seaside town. I've got some lovely friends, my children are lovely - well sometimes, and maybe, just maybe I'm happy and settled.
So a massive thank you to all my readers, fellow bloggers and friends. It's been great. Really great.
Wednesday, 23 September 2009
However short of me time I am, and I do seem to be desperately short it is the sitting and thinking time I want. I am desperate to spend a morning sitting in the cafe, with a paper (Wednesday Guardian today - my fave), writing a few notes and just being.
So you know what - that is exactly what I intend to do this morning. Sod the washing, sod the spiders lurking in corners of the house, and sod the bleeding cooking.
See you there.
Sunday, 20 September 2009
So anyway the Gameboy is reasonably priced for a secondhand gadget, and for a gadget - after looking at many of them, it isn't solely a boys toy. Many are pink, although the market has dictated these are cheaper, and come with lots of cool more girlie games. It has made me reminisce about the days when they came out, when apparently all the supermodels were addicted to them and spent hours between shoots playing.
Then I remembered when the personal stereo came about; rather like the iphone there was only one brand to have; the Sony. I loved mine and spent hours doing my morning paper round dancing to 'So Macho' by Sinitta at six in the morning. Of course the glamorous image of them was not of strange boy looking thirteen year olds skipping up and down the village streets but of cool Americans on Greyhounds chewing gum and listening to a bit of rock music.
Strange though isn't it how gadgets can become so cool, so must have and the toy of a generation? I don't know anyone who did not have a Spectrum ZX or BBC computer whilst growing up in the eighties, and probably my kids won't know anyone without a net book, or an iphone (us!). Father Christmas sadly can't afford the contract for one, or really justify it, but I'm still working on how it might just be essential. Course I'm sadly jumping on the band wagon about two years too late - and according to some friends; just when a new unbranded version is about to come out that is better and cooler.
Saturday, 19 September 2009
The local children have been making sculptures and hats and shakers and many of the neighbouring schools have been invited to open the festival by; 'Dancing with Dabs'. The dances look fantastic, as demonstrated by my friend H and Ol - there s a box dance, a four steps forward and clap dance, and a jump and leap dance. Typically though Ol is absolutely refusing to take part. Even though he has made a fetching seagull hat to wear (as have all the infants for some reason - ?to wind up the hate the seagull gang).
So we'll miss the dancing seagull heads this year, but do intend on having a few glasses of wine later (extreme tiredness from 6 hill walks all week yesterday sent me to bed early last night) and to try and get the whole gang doing the dances. Happy Birthday David.
Wednesday, 16 September 2009
I was delighted to hear one of the proposed cuts i public spending the government may make is on the Trident programme. Essentially it is extremely expensive, out of date and I suspect simply unaffordable for the UK at present - unless we make drastic cuts in welfare, education etc instead.
I've written to our local MP suggesting he supports cutting spending on Trident, instead of public services and would suggest to everyone if you feel the same now is a fantastic time to make your position clear to your politicians.
Oh, and because I can't resist a little retro shop I may just have to buy the poster above from here - http://www.cnduk.org/.
Tuesday, 15 September 2009
Every month we'd take turns hosting the 'event'. We'd each chip in for some wine and pizza, usually just over a fiver (which was never ever enough so some kind boyfriend would have to run to the all night shop). We lived all over London - Hackney, Stoke Newington, North London, West London, South London and we always met after work. Often on a Thursday but always early ish - at about seven so we did not have to go home first and had more time to drink.
The members varied; with a core of four or five; we got married - went to each others wedding parties, became lesbians, became straight and changed partners. We didn't socialise much between groups - other than a few of us who were already paired up in friendships but we loved BAPS (Beer and Wine and Pizza).
There was the Girl who (inevitably) drank too much cheap white wine and was rude. She was Against Gap, and Next. The time we all went to Beckenham (never again, so so far). The fact that Lisa was an American, and thus started the Second World War (personally I never quite understood this one), the Girl (who later turned lesbian) whose Boyfriend wore her knickers to play football, cycling in the air, falling in bushes, missing the tube and late night cabs, and finally for Lisa Exposure on the Tube.
School bookclub, re-starting on Thursday has a lot to live up to. Last month I'm not even sure we got on to how we all met our first partners, let alone, who else might wear our pants.
Friday, 11 September 2009
And we don't get to hang out so much. Of course I feel dreadfully torn about this, on one hand, I've done OK - hopefully set her up to enjoy and get the most out of her school days as a reasonably sociable well rounded child. And of course there have been times in the last four or five years when I would have happily given them to any old school just to have a few moments by myself. And now it is really happening, even to a lovely school I feel bad. I'll miss her and what will I do?
I'll have two hours - ish off every morning until Christmas - not sure I'm capable of doing much anymore to be honest. It's been four - nearly five years since I've worked for actual, like money. I've done lots of bits and pieces, work on Nursery Committees, voluntary work, swapping childcare, even a short bit of mystery shopping. I've made things - lots of things, when the moment strikes but none of this has been as tough my old job used to be. And I think that is the crux of it; working out the head space to do everything properly, without too much stress and without worrying about it. It almost seems impossible to achieve the possible.
Thursday, 10 September 2009
And now here I am - in my later 30's with sagging. Also worried about my ageing neck, and wishing I could suspend my disbelief in wonder creams. Perhaps rather like Father Christmas f I believed in them they would work. Except how could they possibly cut excess skin off, lift, and um reduce big thick lines? Or could they?
Suspecting the only answer to ageing is of the knife variety - can't imagine I could ever achieve that though, even if I agreed with it. Am such a wuss that even in labour whilst knowing the doctor had to do (look away know squeamish people and men) an episiotomy to actually get my daughter out I made him promise to tell me when he was doing it, and told him not to. Fortunately my birthing plan, and common sense prevailed - and he just did not tell me (I could not feel it anyway - the giant baby had squashed all sensation out of my body).
So - ageing. I've even left my hair without dyeing the roots for a week or so now. I'm almost intrigued to see what I look like with some grey as I never do it. Silver fox? Or prematurely ageing woman with stripy grey hair, sagging boobs and lined neck?
What to do?
Tuesday, 8 September 2009
Monday, 7 September 2009
Instead, when I get a bit stressed or rushed I start by saying the inappropriate. Accidentally told Jem's new teacher today that her boobs were large. It was in context though, honest, she'd told me she'd toppled on top of them. And I was saying at least she was protected.
Earlier whilst bemoaning lack of time I realised I have a hair dressers appointment this afternoon and I've committed the cardinal grey haired sin of not dying my hair yet. Nothing worse than being faced with an elderly looking self in a bright salon surrounded by slim enthusiastic young things. Oh, and with a head like a badger myself. A pale white badger with a big moon face.
So of course whilst chatting to some friends, and the deputy head of the school this morning I mentioned this problem. And how the hairdresser will think I am a hair slut. In front of the bloody children too!
I could go on about how lack of time leads me to stupid things...but I am seriously out of time.