Great excitement in the house - Jack has started to get some offers from Universities.

This is only one stage on the road to "the next chapter" in his life - but it is the most exciting so far...

Frankly I don't know if the process is more taxing for me or him.

Stage 1 : University visits - found this a bit scary - could my boy really live in this concrete jungle.

Stage 2: Complete the UCAS form. Not as easy as it sounds - he had to write a personal statement to sell himself - too much and they would think him arrogant - too little and he risked getting passed over. One admissions tutor told him to try and sound like an enthusiastic puppy - not the greatest advice - spell checker kept rejecting his yapping....

Stage 3: Choose the univerisites and send off the form. This proved to be rather complicated - lots of advice to listen to - not all good. How many choices should he make? What happens if he gets no offers? (obviously as soon as we had passed this stage I have become something of an expert to advise any-one who I meet with a child vaguely of an age to be applying to Univeristy)

Stage 4: Sit back and wait and see what happens......

Stage 5: Try not to check progress too much on the UCAS online tracker. I must admit to a bit of peeking to see how things are getting on. Can imagine the man at UCAS monitoring the site saying - ehh up that mum's on here again.

And now he has had 3 offers - hurray.

Now he just has to get the results he needs!

To be continued...............

Beta isn't always Better

My curiousity got the better of me today and I decided to upgrade to Beta.

Have just spent longer than I dare think about fiddling about with the template thing to try and get it looking like I wanted it to. Can't seem to add in my "Blogs I like to read" bit.

Help is no help - answers lots of questions but not the one "How do you add in Blogs I like to Read".

Think I might have to phone a friend...

Feeling Festive

Not like me at all - usually takes weeks to get in the mood (and wow does he moan about it) but this year I am feeling festive and it's only December 6th!

Yesterday we had an office christmas lunch in Covent Garden - had to go on a browse round the shops afterwards (the things you do in the line of duty!). Everything was so christmassy (is that a word?) I felt like bursting into a quick round of Good King Wenceslas. Fortunately for the people I was with I managed to restrain myself.

Even the people on the train seemed perkier than normal - two actually spoke to me!!!!

We've had our first mince pies of the season - Tom had to eat two to be sure he doesn't like them. He is banned from them now until he reaches the age of majority (21 in our house) as he wastes them by scooping out the insides and eating the pastry.

Had 3 Christmas cards - very exciting (normally I am not exicited by a card but I am this year - what is happening to me??) This is a bit of a problem as I had decided not to send any this year and send an email with a charity pledge instead - but once you start to get some in it seems mean not to return the gesture. Will have to think about this one.

School christmas concert tomorrow - no nativity to cry over any more but I am sure I will shed a tear when Tom starts playing his trombone (it is an eye watering sound at the best of time - only joking Tom!)

Going to see Grumpy Old Women tomorrow and by coincidence I read a piece in the paper written by Judith Holder who I believe was the co-creator of the show.

She listed some of the questions you need to ask yourself to see if you rate as a GOW. Oddly enough it was one quiz where I did quite well - lots of ticks!

Here are some of the questions:

- Do you read the Lakeland catalogue and tick things you want, such as the banana guard, the gravy separator and sock drawer tidier?

I can go one better than this as I am the proud owner of a gravy seperator and sock drawer tidier - despite usually making bisto gravy which doesn't need much seperating and not owning that many socks. Would love a banana guard - but unfortunately can't stand bananas.

- Are your pants the largest on the washing line?

Well yes I do have a couple of pairs of slightly larger than fashionable knickers - for those days when you feel you need to be extra comfy (ok - Monday to Sunday)

- Are you inexplicably attracted by craft shops?

'Fraid so - bit of a family joke this one - if they want to keep me happy they will point me in the direction of a good craft show.

Some questions I didn't do so well on...

- Recently heard a Barry Manilow song I like - err no I don't think so.

- Have I bought myself a bird table - not yet but could be an idea for xmas (only joking Santa!)

But there was one question that confirmed me as a GOW big time -

- Your idea of a multiple orgasm is getting a full refund and an apology from the manager?

YES YES YES

Do you believe in the power of positive thoughts?

I was thinking about it on the way home from work - with my petrol guage showing past empty. I had driven past one petrol station - dismissing it as it is rather awkward to get out and on the wrong side of the road. I decided to carry on to the next one - on my side of the road. As I was getting closer, whilst putting my petrol saving skills to full stretch, I suddenly wondered if it would be open. Why I thought this I don't know - it is after all a 24 hour super petrol station - which I have never seen closed. Until today! So I turned round and drove back - using even more petrol saving skills - you can go a long way in neutral if you put your mind to it. Trying to be positive - now the first petrol station was on my side of the road!

Ok - I know I couldn't have changed this situation - not even the most positive thoughts can get do that - but why did I even wonder if it was going to be closed? I'm sure I wouldn't normally have given it a second thought.

I do believe in the power of positive thought. If ever I have to do a presentation or anything like that, I try and fill my head with thoughts of success not failure - and usually it works.

I also get the best example on a near daily basis. Hubby and I usually respond to each others "Have a good day" send off, with the reply "I'll try". Tom on the other hand always says "I will" And whilst we are trying, he usually does...

An Alarming Discovery

I stood on the scales this morning, for the first time in months, and found that my weight was only just the right side of 12 stone! I must say that I feel quite horrified by this discovery.

I went off to work and announced to every-one within earshot this alarming news. Isn't it funny how when you have something like this to say suddenly quite a few people seem to be in earshot. Some people refused to believe me - as if I'd make up such a thing. If you are going to lie about your weight you go the lighter side of the truth surely.

Still, for a few minutes I felt swept along with the general opinion that it can't be right. In my usual "put things off if you can" attitude I did contemplate buying another set of more reliable scales before taking the situation seriously.

But no - I can't deny the truth - which if I'm honest is backed up by some very tight waistbands - I'm whispering this bit, "I need to go on a diet".

I have contemplated blogging the gruesome details of what I eat etc - hoping that this will spur me on. But I think that's far too much effort and very dull - who needs to know I chewed on a Ryvita for half an hour. So I will just report on major landmarks in my efforts to reduce my own personal landmark.

The latest idea to hit nurseries seems to be gym equipment for toddlers. I have watched the TV in disbelief, seeing 3 year olds 'working out' on mini treadmills, steppers and exercise bikes. Even more alarming than the equipment itself was the mum who welcomed it all saying that she was worried about her child becoming obese and this exercise should help him on the road to a healthy life.

Now I have nothing against gyms (don't feel the need to go there myself but whatever takes your fancy I say) but it is a well recorded fact that some people get addicted to the buzz they get from hard exercise. These mini treadmills come complete with distance monitors and calorie counters. Surely this is totally wrong to be encouraging children to think about exercise in this way at such a young age. What happended to good old running around.

Surely kids that age should get their exercise from active play not 'working out'? It seems to me it is a lazy way for adults to 'exercise' the kids rather than organsing proper activities for them.

Suefromengland asked me to do this about 3 months ago - always was rather slow but here goes...

Top three things that.....

scare me:
The dark (not good now the clocks have gone back)
Creepy films
Getting stuck under a boat (would that ever happen?)

make me laugh:
My family and friends
The people I work with
QI

I hate:
Dogs
Tony Blair and George Bush (ok so I don't know them but I don't like what they are doing)
Not being right!

I don't understand:
The political situation in Afghanistan
How this computer works
Why I'm the only one in the family who is able to load the dishwasher

I want to do do before I die:
Have a long and happy retirement
See a firework display at Sydney Harbour
Understand the political situation in Afghanistan (just joking)

I can:
Play the piano
Knit
Make my kids laugh (with me or at me I'm not sure)

I can't:
Ride a bike (honest I can't)
Swim more than a length of a very short pool
Forget all the bad things any-one has ever told me (and I mean all - that's some baggage!)

I'm listening to:
Tom talking to my mum on the phone
My tummy rumbling
Radio 5 live

I like to drink:
Wine
Coffee (with milk and sugar please)
Gin and tonic (if I'm feeling flash)

That's all folks....

I was on the London Underground this morning - the tube just came to my stop and as I got out I heard the alarm go off in the next carriage. I could see a very large rucksack on the seat with no owner.

All the people on that carriage piled off - at some speed.

What I found amazing was how the different people reacted next. Some just went into another carriage - as if to say - if it blows I'll be ok here and I don't want anything to disrupt my journey. The rest of the group stood on the platform pointing - probably the same distance to the suspect rucksack as they had been when they were on the train.

Me - I moved as fast as you can without breaking into an all out dash.....

Yesterday at work we were discussing an ex-colleague (Jane) who left about 6 months ago. Laura had met up with her and said that Jane was a bit disappointed that Caroline (who she lived nearby) had not been in touch since she had left. (still with me?)

This conversation got me thinking about whether it was fair of Jane to complain about Caroline when she could have just as easily got in touch with her. (now I've lost you!)

What is the etiquette here? Is the onus on the person remaining employed to keep in contact with the ex-employee - or does it illustrate that the 'friendship' was a wee bit on the shallow side in the first place?

An old school friend of mine wrote me a letter recently complaining I hadn't been in touch for ages. In fact if we are going to be picky I had written to her last - and in the last year she could easily have contacted me if she wanted to. I think I am an easy person to push on a guilt trip. Which reminds me - there's another friend (if she still counts me as one) who I said I'd ring back next week - about 6 months ago....

Monday Morning Blues

Had to go to Birmingham yesterday for a meeting. I decided to let the train take the strain - even though it meant getting up BEFORE 7.00!!! For some strange reason I got it into my head that my train was leaving at 7.47. I knew this wasn't quite right but I think the earliness of the hour and the pleasing symmetry of the time stopped me from checking whether it was right.

Being EARLY in the morning I couldn't seem to decide what to wear. In the end I sprinted out of the house and drove as fast as was legal to the station - in time to miss my train by 3 minutes! I would have caught the 7.47 but my train was 7.41.

I then had the prospect of over an hour sitting in the station waiting for the next train - extra time to think of a reasonable excuse for being late to my meeting. Sitting for so long in a station waiting room is a very strange thing to do. There was a story in the local paper about a person who lived in the station waiting room and as time dragged on I realised the people coming in and out were looking at me like I might be that person (not such a good clothes choice then!)

Eventually my train came along. I really needed to go to the toilet before boarding but somehow despite having an hour to kill I didn't seem to get round to going until I didn't have time. The buffet trolley came along and I told myself - no - coffee was not a good idea in view of bladder issue and also fact that I usually fail to deal with boiling hot coffee on a bumpy train. So why did I find myself saying - yes - coffee would be lovely. Only after Mickey the "Train Host" had left me with my boiling brown liquid did I realise my seat tray was at an angle that was designed to deliver liquid onto lap rather than to rest it on. I then spent the next half hour holding this boiling brew whilst trying to anticipate the next bump, so spillage was kept to a minimum.

After 2 hours of listening to the delightful beat of at least 5 ipods and the remarkable message alert of the person sat next to me - remarkable for the volume, length and general annoyingness (new word) - we rolled into Birmingham station. Frankly I am no athelete but I could have run some sections of that journey faster than the train moved. I put my running skills to the test in the mad dash from the station, but I got to my meeeting just in time - to look forward to the prospect of the return journey...

I came across some-one at work called Mr Weighty. As soon as I heard his name I conjured up a none too flattering picture of what he might look like. I haven't met him yet and hope I don't, as if he is fat or thin I'll probably laugh.

It made me think about the influence our names have on us. I'm reading Gentleman and Players by Joanne Harris, and the main character describes some of his collegues by his view of their character - so there's a Mr Meek, a Mr Keane etc. In reality I think that if you had a name like that you would strive to be neither it nor the exact opposite. Mr Cash wouldn't want to be flash with his money or accused of being mean. Mrs Cross would try to avoid arguements. Mr Christmas would avoid growing a bushy beard and laughing. Mrs Sadd would try and keep smiling (but not too much)

Think this may be the answer to my diet problems - going to change my name by deed poll to Mrs Lardy.

I saw the most fascinating programme on BBC Three the other night. Called My Small Breasts and I it followed the story of 3 women who had a real issue with their size and showed the impact it had on their lives. As I often find with this sort of programme your sympathies vary with each person they follow.

One person, Sharon, followed a 12 week course of applying suction pumps to her breasts - which she slept in/with every night. She also took a huge quantity of herbal pills - designed to somehow prompt breast growth. Needless to say you can't pop pills in such quantities without some ill effect - and she became moody - mind you I'd be moody if I slept every night with two great suction pumps on my chest.

The second, Laura, was a lovely young girl who was going to have plastic surgery, paid for - wait for it - by random men, who agree to pay on the understanding that she posted some pictures of herself on a website. The way it seemed to work was you post your picture - say what you want and how much and men start making donations. How bizarre is that!! In the end she decided not to go through with it. Thankfully. I could not believe that she was genuinely thinking of doing this. I did try to find the site (purely in the interest of research you understand) but luckily I couldn't!

The third woman, Kate, had a really low opinion of her image - to the degree that she was virtually house-bound. She went to New York and had Photo-therapy.This was really interesting - a technique used by a NY based photographer (forget her name) to basically help people who have image problems - manifesting in anorexia, bulimia, agrophobia, or resulting from abuse - to see a different side to their image. It seemed to be a mixture of counselling and brilliant photography to get the person to see themselves in a new light. She built up Kate's confidence, to let her see what a beautiful woman she was. Programme finished with her taking her two young children swimming - something she said she could never have done before.

All together it made fascinating watching. One of those programmes where you go through a range of emotions - from shock and disbelief to real sympathy. Have to say Kate's story was really touching and uplifting. (no pun intended)

These aren't original but they made me laugh - hope they tickle you too....

Some classic statements we say to our kids - here brought up to date:-

Then: "Don't speak to me like that"
Now: "I don't appreciate the tone of that email" or "YR TXT LAX RESPCT"

Then: "If the wind changes, your face will stay like that"
Now: "When climate change becomes irreversible, the hospital will be underwater and unable to correct your deformed features"


Then: "Wait 'til your father comes home"
Now: "Wait 'til your mother finishes telecommuting in the back bedroom"



And why do we say things like this:

"If you break your leg, don't come running to me"

"Don't look now, but you see that....."

"Is anyone sitting here?" (oh I have asked that soooo many times)

"Are you reading that paper you're sitting on?"


and my personal favourite ...


"I could murder a chocolate cake" (what's the penalty for that - 5 years hard dieting?)

Well to start off I have to report the risotto was lovely - will definitely order that one again!!

It's bank holiday weekend - and the world should be my oyster...

Instead - it is pouring with rain and I have a list as long as my arm (I do have quite short arms) of jobs to be done. Ranging from the boring 'clear the ironing backlog' to slightly more exciting 're-arrange the spare room' - I can hardly wait!

What would I like to do instead? I need to ponder over that one, as frankly I don't know.

Just asked hubby and he said I want to go on a small boat down the river - odd that - don't recall that one on my wish list.

In an effort to encourage independence I have persuaded Jack to cook our evening meal tonight. He's 17 and off into the bright wide world next year (fingers crossed).

It is supposed (I mean going) to be prawn risotto. He has made Spaghetti Bolognese before (the made up/chuck everything into a pan version that is) - but this is his first time at following a proper recipe. You'd think that was easier but he does seem to have some problems following instructions (as if I didn't know this already!)

So who knows what it will turn out to be. It is a microwave recipe and as I write this I can hear some dinging which means something is going on. Whatever it turns out like I know number two son won't like it. He is turning into something of a faddy eater. I thought these things were supposed to get better as they get older but not in our house hold.

I can now getting cooking aromas - another positive sign (I think)

We have had a bit of a debate in the house about the current trend towards obesity - 1 in 3 being obese in the next 10 years. Spurred us on to go on a bike ride in the rain. Perhaps this meal will help too - OOOHHH that is mean mum talking.

I'll let you know how it tasted tomorrow - provided we are still standing.....

A series of unfortunate events

Water is not my natural habitat so it was with some alarm I found that we had booked up to go white water rafting. Not one to be the party pooper of course, next thing I know we are heading off on our way - dressed in a rather fetching wet, wet suit (previous occupant had v v bad BO but that proved useful later). First there was a bus ride and then a muddy descent down to the river side to board our rafts. I was feeling extremely nervous and when the guide started to explain safety instructions I listened very intently. He told us what to do in the event of disaster (i.e. boat tips over) This was my idea of hell so before I could possible go on I had to ask whether this was likely to happen. He looked me straight in the eyes and said no, never.

So off we go. Thrills and spills galore. Unfortunately the spills were none too thrilling. Halfway down the river the guide lands us on a rock and before we know what is going on we have tipped over. I was stuck under the boat. All I could think of was "no this is not going to be the way I die!!"

There followed about 15 minutes of trauma - first being pulled from under the boat by hubby (my hero)and then getting swept down river together for about 100m, before managing to get lodged on to a crevice on a rock. Fine except this was on the wrong side of the river to get out and if I moved in any way I risked setting off again. Fortunately for me, hubby was still with me so we clung on together - like a scene from cliffhanger - except this was water and not heights and my Gabe didn't let me go!!!

By this time I had found Tom was safe on the bank, Jack was on another boat.

Two of the guides jumped in and came across to our side and said they would help us swim across the current to the right side. This was easier said than done and alot of river was drunk before I managed to grab the safety line that another boat had thrown in.

Once on the side of the river they wanted me to get back into the boat to continue the adventure! Needless to say I was not too keen - my whole body was in a complete state of collapse. So I crawled up the side of the river bank and lay by the road until they came to take us home. BO wet suit acted as smelling salts to keep me from passing out! I knew it would be useful.

When we finally got picked up it was the same guide who had earlier assured me all would be ok. He was a bit sheepish - but very cute so I forgave him.

If any-one I know ever hears me suggest I do this again they have my permission to shoot me first!!

For photo's of the experience see Mid-life crisis blog but imagine everything upside down!

p.s. we're having a great holiday - trying to reduce the european wine lake.

Holiday Holiday Holiday fun....

Gosh that takes me back to .....


Anyway we are off on holiday on Wednesday. As per my usual organised self I am working up to the last minute and have piles of washing and ironing to be done - with no time to do it.

The family are now entering the critical pre holiday stage where nothing can be worn that will be going with us. As our wardrobes are modest in size this is quite difficult and the next two days will see us sporting some interesting combos I fear. The ideal scenario is for the weather at home to be totally different from anticipated weather away. But in truth this is rare - so it will be a case of delving into the back of the wardrobe to pull out a rarely seen offering to wear.

Frankly I don't know why I pack so much as in truth we usually seem to wear the same things everyday - and bring back half the stuff untouched. (I can imagine our holiday chums shrinking with horror if they read this!). I didn't realise this was the case until my mother looked through our holiday snaps one year and remarked that we seemed to be doing an awful lot in one day as number 2 son always had the same clothes on. This year I am determined that we will all wear everything that is taken - even if it means some quick clothe changes on the last day to catch up.

Tomorrow is my birthday - and having flicked through a couple of random blogs I notice it is already tomorrow in some parts of the world - so I'm off for a birthday drink! Can't possibly iron on my birthday - can I?

Waxing lyrical

Last night I found myself going through a whole new experience. There I was lying on this strange bed, listening to soothing music playing...... whilst being covered in hot wax and having hair ripped off my legs.

It was my first visit to the waxing studio - and the jury is out as to whether it will be my last. It was all very odd.

I booked my appointment about a month ago thinking it would be a good thing to do in preparation for my holiday. Not quite sure why this holiday merits tidier legs but there you are. I'm not one for half measures - so it was full leg and bikini wax for me! I was told not to shave from then on so that I achieved an adequate length for removing. Well frankly if I had left them to grow from then to yesterday I would have had more hair on my legs than on my head. So I did cheat a bit.

On arrival at the torture chamber - I mean beauty parlour - my legs were inspected for signs of adequate growth. Unfortunately they passed, so there was no excuse to back out. Next thing I know I'm lying there with boiling (I am not exaggerating here) wax being applied. I thought that bit was bad until the strips were applied to pull it off - hair, skin and all it seemed. And so we went on. Having a perfectly normal conversation about life in general - whilst lying there with some-one inflicting the kind of pain that could send you down for GBH.

Then comes the bikini bit. I would have gladly passed at this point - but that didn't seem to be an option. Instead I was asked how high up I wanted to go. Not sure what the right answer to that one was.

Finally it was over and I staggered home, legs red and angry - hot wax applied on one of the hottest days of the year. Only one question to ask myself - why did I do that.


p.s. bought pair of shorts for my holiday from well known department store - they make me look like an extra from "It ain't half hot mum" - is it me or have I missed this look as a new fashion trend.

As eldest son has just turned 17 we are enjoying the delights of teaching him to drive.

His only previous experience had been on a go-kart track at a local amusement park. I was his passenger and it wasn't very amusing - giving a whole new slant on white knuckle rides.

So we were cautious when approaching his first venture into the driving seat for real. We set off to a local car park after shop closing time. I explained the basics and off we went - kangarooing to a jolting stall - time after time. (I began to fear for my car's starter motor)

I actually found it really difficult to explain what to do. After a few false attempts I had to take the driving seat again - firstly because by this time we had kangarooed quite a long way (which was rather alarming) and secondly to refresh myself on how to actually do it!

Eventually he got the hang of moving off - and managed a few loops of the car park in 1st gear. Great celebrations. I then suggested he applied the brake to stop. Sadly this is not the best way to stop - you need the clutch as well or else it can be rather violent, but I'd forgotten that little detail.

Luckily no harm was done. The bruising on the ribs is slowly subsiding.

He has since been out (on the road) with hubby, a few times - and can now get into 4th gear and drive at 35 miles an hour. Not sure if I will be able to take him out for a while - think I am too chicken - will have to wait until he has got a bit more experience under his belt.

The importance of being...

I was sitting having breakfast with my son this morning in a coffee shop in town. A couple came and sat down at the next table. I didn't take much notice of them at first - except to clock that he was dressed like a middle aged man in the first flush of mid-life crisis.

He then proceeded to have a ridiculous conversation with his wife which was clearly 100% for our benefit rather than hers. He started on a loud discussion on politics - giving her the benefit of his opinion of the current government and the state of the opposition.

He then went on to tell her about how he would be finished designing the missile programme by Christmas and that they had had a lovely holiday in Mauritius and would soon be off to the Maldives.

I was determined not to show I was listening - but did want to laugh. He went on and on telling her things she must have already known about their super lifestyle. It was so unnatural I couldn't believe it. She kept trying to bring the conversation back to the more mundane.

Eventually they left - him striding off with jumper slung over his shoulders and sunglasses on head. She was clearly not having a mid life crisis - but I'm sure if he carries on like this for much longer she will be having an entirely different sort of crisis.

I would love to know what was going on between them.

Slogan on one of son's birthday cards:

"Small lies to tell kids ....

Wine makes mummy clever."

Heard on the radio (so it must be true) that a survey (even more likely to be true) has found that if you live in a cul-de-sac you are going to be 6lbs heavier than people who live in a through road.


Sounds like a good excuse to me - so no guessing where I live!

Is it possible to get a motivation pill? I am certainly in need of one. All the things I strive to do just seem to go by the wayside - and then I get annoyed because in truth the only person I am cheating is myself.

For example - I was determined to lose some weight in time for the summer holidays. Set myself some realistic goals (2lb a week) but not done a thing about it.

I was in the wilds of Essex last week on my way back from a meeting, when I went past a McDonalds. I had spotted it on the way to the meeting and had filed away in my mind an idea that I could stop there for a late lunch on the way home. Told myself this wasn't part of the diet regime - but nevertheless on the way home I drive in.

As I'm going through the drive thru my virtuous side is arguing with my tummy about what should be ordered. I decide to have a happy meal - it will satisfy the hunger and give a junk food fix - without going mad.

Next thing I know I have ordered a Big Mac and Chips. I sat there looking at it, wondering what I was doing and how could this be part of a calorie controlled diet - unless I am trying to control my calories at 5000 a day. Anyway I ate it - couldn't quite manage it all - and it was very nice too.

I told myself that I wouldn't eat much in the evening to compensate (another little trick I like to pretend to do). Unfortunately by the time I had got home it was late - hubby was in charge of the evening meal and it was a trip to the chip shop all round...

Yesterday England went out of the world cup. After a nail biting penalty shoot out (which I admit I watched peeping from behind a cushion) they lost out to Portugal.

The papers are full of it - the brave fight our boys put up. Steven Gerrard was quoted as describing himself and his team mates as having been "heroic out there, we threw bodies in the way of shots."

Ironically yesterday was also the 90th anniversary of the first day of the Battle of the Somme where 20,000 men were killed (in one day!!)

There has been some very interesting and thought provoking coverage of the Somme on TV - but sometimes when I hear the langauge which is in common use around things like games of football and other sporting events I do wonder if we are losing our sense of focus.

Well done to Emily, Fern, Bev and Anne who took part in the Race For Life . It was great to watch them - felt a bit guilty not taking part myself - but some of us have to be there on the side lines to cheer them on.

Pathetic excuse I know - perhaps next year.... could add it to the growing list of events I reckon I might take part in....

Went on our first visit around a university yesterday. It only seems like yesterday that I was taking him round secondary schools. And hardly any time before that I was leaving him on his try out day at infants school.

This time you don't just need to get your head around the facilities and teaching on offer, it is also the accommodation. We went on a tour round some student halls of residence - which I am sure were of a very high standard - but seemed very plain and basic. I tried to big it up but not sure how convincing I was.

It is all very odd really - there can't be many other situations (other than going to prison) where you go along and are expected to live in close proximity to a number of other strangers, sharing bathroom facitilies and kitchens etc. But lots of people do it and I guess it is all part of being adaptable and flexible and all the other ..ble's that help us grow and develop into rounded human beings. (what an assumption that is!)

I'm beginning to tire of the world cup and it isn't even the second round yet. I never was much of a fan to start off with but at least I was quite tolerant.

Now every night seems to be turned over to football. I could cope with it a bit better if we only supported England - but the rest of the family seem to throw their allegiance to a different side a night.

Tonight it seems critical to follow the fortunes of Togo(!?!) Apparently if they win that means France won't, and that's good. We are going to France for our holiday in August so I think we'll have to keep quiet about this one...

Been for a lovely cycle round our local country park. It is becoming a regular event - all part of our fabulous fitness regime. In fact I feel it is creeping into a bit of an obsession. As soon as I get home from work, it's a quick change and off we go.

Today it was very windy - took the boys with us - younger one a bit grumpy as it was rather hard going. We streak ahead on our tandem leaving the kids to bring up the rear.

The picture above is not us - we wouldn't go out wearing matching outfits.....

I wouldn't describe myself as an ardent royalist but I do show a passing interest in what the royal family are up to - an interest that isn't shared by any other member of my family it seems.

I went to the East of England Show on Friday. My eldest son was playing in his school band so I went with a couple of friends to listen to them play and enjoy a day out looking at livestock (5 minutes) and the various stalls (5 hours) they have there. The weather was perfect and I had a great time.

A couple of hours after we came home, son mentioned that he had met Prince Edward earlier in the day. I was astounded he had not mentioned this before. It seems son was at the bakery stand filling in a kiddie's questionaire, when this group of dignatories came along. Son said he hadn't a clue who they were, his friend did slightly better and said she thought one was a member of the royal family. Prince Edward (sorry name dropping a bit now) said he had heard the band play earlier and thought they sounded good. They then had a little chat about the questionaire and whether son wasn't a bit too old to be taking part.

I was agog when he told me this. I'm very excited with his brush with royalty - well one us has to be. Slightly concerned by his lack of ability to spot one of the Queen's offspring. Perhaps this is a gap in his education - he's missed out on monarchy lessons somewhere along the way. I'll go and make up some flashcards now - and take remedial action.

Having the last word ........

My youngest son can be very contrary. People say it is just a phase but it has lasted for 10 years - and he is only 12.
This conversation today sums him up.

I walk past him putting on his shirt - it is inside out.
Me: Your shirt's inside out.
Him: No it isn't
(he carries on putting it on - then realises it is (YES I am right!!) and takes it off.)
Me: You always have to disagree with me don't you.
Him: No I don't.

I rest my case.....

I need some urgent advice. The children were given some sweets at the weekend - caramel with chocolate topping. Sadly they don't like them. Even sadder I do. I can't stop eating them. Large packet is nearly demolished.

The question is - is it better just to give in to temptation and eat the lot in one sitting - or try and ration them over, (well let's be realistic) two nights?

I seem to be favouring the 'eat them all in one go' tactic - but am I kidding myself that this is the best approach?

Think advice may be too late to help with this attack of the munchies but could steer me in the right direction in the future.

Past your sell by date.....

My mother - who is in her 80's (she'd love me for telling you that) just can't seem to get the hang of sell by dates. Whenever we go to her house I am always cringing at the age of some of the food she serves up. She isn't too bad with the things that I suppose really matter like meat and stuff - perhaps only a few days out - but there lurking at the back of her cupbaord will be some hoarded treasure which she decides to bring out at our family get togethers.

Yesterday there were 20 of us for Sunday lunch. Her nephew and his wife had come over to stay from Spain. So she had invited his cousins (me and my brothers) along with assorted aunts and uncles. As the dutiful daughter I was helping in the kitchen. She asked me to assemble an Eton Mess (strawberries, cream and meringue).

Even my limited culinary skills can't go too wrong there. Only problem was the meringues had a 'use by date' of July 2004. When I pointed this out she started muttering about stupid sell by dates etc etc. Anxious not to cause an international incident I checked for signs of mould and made the pudding. It tasted fine. No-one has been ill. Why then say 'use by July 2004'? Is it a ploy to get us to purge our cupboards and then buy more stuff?

I must admit to being a bit of a slave to the date - I do regularly chuck things out when I think they are past their best. But perhaps these things past their prime could be some of the friendly bacteria we hear so much about??

Steaming ...

I am steaming.
A couple of weeks ago I told a colleague, D, about an idea I had to save the company some money.

Today I was in Head Office and met up with one of the directors. We had a little chat and he told me he was very excited about an idea D had told him. You guessed it, it was my idea.

I could not believe it.

What should I have done? Should I have told him that I’d suggested it to D? I thought that would have sounded a bit petulant. Should I have spoken to D about it? Not my style – much as I would like it to be.

So what did I do? I said it was a very good idea and I'd thought about it too. Pathetic!

Just Do It

I have decided that I am flakey. I'm all talk. Those that know me are probably thinking - hooray - at last - she's realised.

My problem is I have all these grand ideas but never follow through on them. Two recent examples - I decide to run next year's London marathon. I made this momentous decision a month ago - I acknowledged the training committment involved - but have spent more time choosing new outfits to wear than actually getting out there running.

Example number two - I decided not to spend money buying unhealthy mayonaise laden sandwiches at work, but to make my own more healthy options. Would have the effect of saving money and losing weight. Fantastic result that would be - go some way towards the 2lb a week weight loss I was promising on this blog a couple of weeks ago. So far I have managed to spend a lot of time and effort choosing a lovely new lunch box to carry healthy lunch to work - but have only managed to make healthy lunch once. And promised for weight loss - if I'm honest I've probably put on a few pounds.

These things may not matter much, but when I think about it, I'm not setting a very good example to my children. If they follow my lead they won't be getting very far. So in future there is going to be more discreet goal setting, with quiet perserverance and committment - and try to avoid grand declarations......

A lovely summer's evening...

Went round to Bev and Alan's last night for an impromptu bbq. It was the first day of the year when the sun shone and the wind was not blowing a freezing force 10 gale. So the need to get together, drink wine and watch men cooking lots of meat was strong . I had a lovely time - all boxes ticked. Thanks Bev.

Something for those madly revising .....

Friend at work found these in the Daily Mail, so whilst you are working away trying to cram knowledge and perhaps feeling you know nothing, here are some quiz show questions and the answers contestants gave - hopefully to make you feel a bit cleverer.....

Q: Arrange these two groups of letters to form a word - CHED and PIT
A: Chedpit


Q: Which 'S' is a type of whale that can grow up to 80 tonnes?
A: Ummm....
Q: (being helpful) It begins with 'S' and rhymes with perm
A: Shark


Q: How many kings of England have been called Henry?
A: I know there was a Henry the Eighth ..... ummm 3?


Q: Where do you think Cambridge University is?
A: Don't know.
Q: The clue is in the name.
A: Leicester?


Q: What was Ghandhi's first name?
A: Goosey Goosey?


Q: What happened in Dallas on November 22, 1963?
A: I don't know, I wasn't watching it then.



Q: What is the capital of Italy
A: France
Q: France is another country - try again
A: Benidorm
Q: No - let's try another question - in what country is the Parthenon?
A: Don't know.
Q: Just say any country
A: Paris.


oh dear..........

Out with the old ....

M&S were holding a special 20% off homes stuff yesterday. As soon as I found this out I had a burning desire to go there and make a purchase. At the back of my mind I had decided that we needed new plates etc. Nothing fancy – just an everyday set to replace the ones that are gradually getting chipped and manky. I knew that if I mentioned this to hubby he would try and put me off. He hates shopping so I was going on my own and decided that if I just went and bought something it would be too late for him to argue.

So off I go – chose a set – very reasonable – also very heavy. Dragged them back to the car – arms now an inch longer than before. Get them home – run the gauntlet of the “what have you done that for?” and the “there’s nothing wrong with the old ones” – and start to unpack them straight into the dishwasher for the inaugural wash. First plate in – hit a snag - they were too big for the dishwasher! Pack it all up again – very disappointed. Hubby sees the boxes back in the bag and thinks he has won. But oh no – by now I needed new plates if that was the last thing I did – straight back to M&S (with strong son this time to help with heavy lifting) choose another set – slightly smaller (but no lighter) and head back home again – feeling very pleased.

Back home – whip off the labels quickly – and put it all in the dishwasher – before he has a chance to say anything. Now they are mine!!

All was going well until friend pops in for cup of tea. Hubby comes down and starts to unload dishwasher, notices the new additions and starts a mini chunter – what was wrong with the old ones etc. I try and point out the positive aspects of the shiny new crocks when friend joins in with him! “Did you need new” she says, “I like the old ones”.

Still I am very pleased with my purchases (which were also quite a bargain of course). Cooked a feast last night so we could all admire new crocks with food on – and even he admitted it was an improvement on the old. Result!

Faking it

At this time of year when more bits of me become uncovered I contemplate whether I should stay pale and interesting or slap on the fake tan. Usually the fake tan route wins - and I end up pale and streaky. I never seem to learn how to do it.
This morning I tried again. Started with a bath and a rub down with rough cloth (my version of exfoliating) followed by careful application of self-tan cream. Even as I was doing this, at the back of my mind I was thinking I had heard something about tanning cream going off after 6 months - mine was over a year old.
What to do - already done one leg - will old cream a) do nothing b) go green or orange c) bring me out in a rash - or worse.
I briefly contemplated the situation and decided that whatever happended it may look better if both legs matched. So I went on with leg 2. As I write this nothing has happended - yet - going out this afternoon so may need to wear long trousers!

A few years ago a friend at work went off to a salon to be tanned all over for a special summer wedding. Whilst she was gone I changed her screen saver to read "You've been tangoed". Unfortunately she came in before me the next day - looking extremely orange and not too amused at my little joke...

A poem

I thought I would post one of my poems.
This one is called 'Waiting'

I sit in silence -
but is it?
My body is still but my senses strain to take in the signals of a world beyond the room.
Sounds seep in through the walls, under the door,
People talking, laughing, phones ringing,
Footsteps fast and slow,
Humming from the air conditioning.
Scratching of pencil over paper,
Heads bowed.
Thoughts and ideas captured on the page.
I feel I should do the same, but I can't
The paper in front of me is blank, the pen untouched.
Time's nearly up.
I can feel the tension in the air,
As I glance at the clock, a shiver of anticipation flows through my body.
Waiting nearly over.
"Put down your pens"
A sea of faces lift up like flowers to the sun,
My time has come.

Tracing your roots

I have never been particularly inspired to do this in the past but recently felt an urge to know some more about my family history. I think it is because as my parents get older I am realising that as time moves on the 'story' of our family shifts and if we're not careful bits disappear. My dad and aunt told me some things about their parents and grandparents and I have used this as a starting place for my research.

I did a bit of delving into census records but didn't get very far - until my friend Bev had a go for me and uncovered another few generations. (thanks Bev). We are now back to 1826 - and instead of thinking my roots were firmly in Birmingham I find that some of my ancestors came from London.

It is really weird finding out the family names which have long been forgotten - might have had some influence on the naming of my own children had I known - although the youngest is named after his great grandfather.

On my mother's side I have loads of nameless photos - relatives I guess - but we have no idea who they are. I find this a mixture of intriguing and spooky. It has inspired me to make more effort to mark my own photo's, as although it is rather tedious to do, I think in generations to come they may well be poring over them and wondering who the children on the old fashioned roller coaster were.

This photo is of my grandmother in the 1920's.

Growing pains

It's something that all parents of teenagers have to face at some time or another - but yesterday was my first. We were having friends round for the evening and I was busying myself in the kitchen when Jack came in and asked if he could go to the cinema - his friend (who had recently passed his driving test) was going to take them. With friend on the other end of the phone I had to say yes or no quickly. I wasn't keen on the travel arrangements - but frankly couldn't think of a reason why not without seeming like some ridiculously over protective parent. So I said yes - then checked with hubby - didn't want him blaming me if something went wrong.

I think I have an overactive imagination - my thoughts went to the road he was going to drive down - a dual carriageway - could be very fast - driving conditions - rainy and dark - nervous new driver at the wheel. I told Jack to make sure he put on his seatbelt - and was rewarded with a rather withering look.

So I let him go - peeping out from behind the curtains to look for signs of dangerous driving by friend - not too easy to achieve in a small cul-de-sac! Then spent the rest of the evening wondering how he was getting on. The film seemed awfully long - he finally came home at 11.30 - had had a good time - no signs of whiplash or injury - and I have so far managed to resist the urge to close question him on friend's driving ability.

Sofa so good…

They came today to take away our two old sofas. I know it sounds a bit odd but I felt quite upset - in fact Icouldn't watch them leave. I remember laughing when some-one told me that their son had sat in the garage on their old sofa for 6 months after they had got a new one. But now I can see how he felt. I might have to go and visit them in the charity shop that I have sent them to.

I have been going on for months about the state of them - they were 18 years old and frankly were showing the signs that they had seen active service. People would come round and get lost in them, they were so saggy. We ordered bigger, better, new ones about 3 months ago and finally heard last week that they are to be delivered tomorrow.

Strangely since the delivery date has been set the old ones have become very comfortable. The lived in look that really annoyed me has looked more appealing (shabby chic? - may be stretching it a bit I think). Where I used to complain that there was not enough room for two of us to put our feet up - suddenly it is rather cosy.

Anyway they have gone, leaving a bare space which hopefully will be filled by the new ones tomorrow. Next problem is that as soon as the van went down the road hubby starts to measure up the door frame and can't see how bigger and better will fit through the door .........

Later With Jools Holland

Just watched "Later With Jools Holland". I know, its a programme for cool people, but I do love it. He always has the most amazing group of guests. This week there was a Mexican brother and sister called Rodrigo and Gabriela, playing acoustic guitars. The way they played was amazing, especially Gabriela. Don't usually 'dig' guitar music, but this was something else.

There was also a woman who sang whilst someone else hit her on the back - bit odd I know - this was the sort of thing I did when I was about 6 - never realised I should have kept on with it and one day it would become an art form.

It's only a game

Just been to play badminton. Tom suggested it yesterday and as I am on a get fit campaign I thought it sounded like a good idea. Hadn't played for a while but no reason not to have another go. So I booked the court and we set off this afternoon for an hours healthy exercise.

The two of us arrived at the courts ready to do battle - in a friendly mother vs son sort of way. We played a game (of sorts) and he won - but only just - it was very close honestly - although he spoilt it at the end by saying he had let me catch up. I tried to counter this by saying I had let him win - but he had seen how I play and just howled at the suggestion.

There were 4 champs on the court next door - in fact two did have on tracksuits which said they played in the English Open. Found this all a bit off putting. They were far too energetic. I preferred my gentle approach to the game. In fact I found it very good all round exercise - especially all that bending down to pick up the shuttle-cock.

A mid year resolution

I was late to work today – can’t blame the traffic, or even the kids. The reason was quite simple – I couldn’t find a thing to wear. Can’t say that this was due to a shortage of clothes – I was in and out of 6 outfits before I felt satisfied to leave the house. It seems my body is not ready for the warmer weather that seems to have made a brief appearance and requires rather less layers to cover up flabby bits. There is some-one in my office who is expecting a baby in August – quite frankly in some of the get-ups I had on this morning I look like my baby is two weeks overdue.

So I have set myself a mid year resolution – to sort out the body – it needs to eat less, exercise more and generally get itself into some sort of shape.

As I drove into work I got more and more determined that action needed to be taken. It is 11 weeks to my holiday and so if I lose 2 Ibs a week (which they say is quite achievable) – that’s 22 lbs – which would be fantastic. And I have been very good today – I have been offered some chocolates – and ok I did have one – but chose a very crunchy chewy one – so probably worked off a few calories in the process of eating it……

Just heard on the radio about a German hotelier who charges his guests according to their weight – another incentive to lose some!

Another hair-raising experience

Yesterday my son decided he wanted to have his hair cut. He has quite long hair - which he is very protective of - so any request for a hair cut must be acted upon immediately.

He really wanted me to do it - but I have had mixed results in the past with my amateur hacking - his hair is very straight and doesn't take too kindly with my haphazard chopping technique.

His reluctance to go to a professional is because we've had some difficulty making sure that his specific wishes are carried out to the letter. One local barber is now definitely a no-go zone as far as Tom is concerned. They seem to be able to do one cut - and it isn't the one he wants! He finds their technique of haircutting whilst watching the television a bit off putting as well. Fussy boy!

Anyway - not being organised (or is it telepathic) I hadn't booked him for an appointment anywhere so we decided to go into town and take pot luck at a "No appointment Necessary" place.

Arriving at the first one, we joined two other women in the reception area. We sat down and started browsing through some magazines and chatting. I don't know why, but after 10 minutes of waiting I decided to ask the woman next to me whether we were doing the right thing by just sitting there - was I likely to be in for a long wait. Oh she said - you need to book in - you can't just sit down. Hello??? - why had she not told me that - I could not believe that she could have watched me come in - listened to me talk to Tom about his hair cut and what to ask for - and not think to mention that I needed to book. Perhaps I am an interferring person but I would never let some-one "do the wrong thing" like that. So I went over to the reception desk - only to be told I was too late - they weren't accepting any more "bookings". After some controlled breathing I managed to get out of the shop without blowing my top.

We then went to shop number two - which was closed (had they heard we were coming?). By this time my temperature was rising - this hair would be cut ....

Walking past another hairdressers I spotted the "appointment not always necessary" sign and strode in pulling Tom along in my wake. The place was empty of customers and after a few minutes of consideration - careful looking at the appointment book - the answer came that they could fit us into their busy schedule. We explained what we were after and I went to sit down and relax. No sooner had I picked up a magazine - ok 5 minutes later - I was being a bit slow - he was finished - and yes he was sort of smiling. I think it looked shorter - he certainly won't be burdened by people continually saying "you've had your hair cut".

How much I said. After some more deliberation - and enquiries about his age (not sure why that mattered) it was decided that the cost was going to be £12. This seemed to be outrageous in terms of cutting time spent - they must charge for deliberation time as well.

So then the great dilemma - do I complain - swiftly I had to weigh up the facts:

• I always complain - I have reputation to think of
• £12 is a lot, for what we got (that rhymes)
• Tom would not be happy - and he did seem happy with what they had done / not done (delete as applicable)

.... So I paid and made a mental note to self - to ensure I pre-empt the vague possibility that one day - perhaps in 3 months time - he might again utter those dreamed of words - I need my hair cut.

I will if you will ...

I have always considered myself to be reasonably green (in the environment sense not naive). Today a report has been published to urge the government to encourage us to be more green. This sounds great in theory but the practice seems so much harder. I often feel that my own efforts are just paying lip service to a much more important issue that frankly is out of my control.

Last year we went on holiday to Germany – the place we stayed was equipped with what seemed like loads of rubbish bins – each with a set purpose – bio degradable, paper, cans, glass etc – all needed to be sorted. Quite frankly it became something of a full time job to ensure that everything was done properly. And we did take it all very seriously. No-one could throw anything away without a heated debate about which bin we should use. (You can tell what an exciting holiday we had). I thoroughly enjoyed this feeling that I was helping the environment by separating my peelings from my paper. So much so that when I got home I went on to the web and made a donation to a charity to carbon neutral our flights to round things off.

Then the doubts start to set in – frankly do my little efforts make any difference when no-one else seems to be that bothered. Why should I get on my bike to save the environment when my neighbour buys one of the biggest gas guzzling 4x4’s on the market. Wouldn’t it be better if manufacturers cut down on the amount of packaging they used in goods to avoid the need to recycle so much – rather than me struggle to fit all the stuff in my green wheelie bin.

So is it really a case of ‘I will if you will’ or should we pseudo greenies carry on with our bit and hope that little efforts here and there make a big difference some-where along the line?

The Secret of Eternal Youth ......

I came across a piece in the Sunday Times the other day about what a child should know in order to live independently when they fly the nest.

It went something like this:

By age 7 they should be able to make a sandwich, lay the table and wash up.
By 10 - help change the bed and run the dishwasher
By 13, cook a meal, change a fuse and bleed a radiator(!)
By 14 to be able to use the washing machine, sew a hem, clean a U bend and change a lightbulb.

Wow!

I am all for encouraging independence. My mother calls it laziness on my part and ok I accept perhaps it was a bit unreasonable when I was irritated that my 5 year old had left his jumper, toothbrush and underwear behind when he packed his own suitcase for our holiday.

If my children can do some of these things they are certainly keeping it a secret from me. I have to confess that I only have a vague idea about radiator bleeding and I am quite happy to keep it that way. I do quite often refer to the bleeding radiator when the temperature outside plummets.

As for cleaning a U bend - isn't that what Mr Muscle is for?

Running into trouble

Oh me and my big mouth!
Today was the London Marathon and watching it from the comfort of my armchair I felt quite overcome with emotion to see these people pushing themselves to the limit - many to raise money for charity. I have been to watch the marathon 3 times when my brothers were taking part and felt inspired to take up running - fortunately a feeling that soon wore off.
Once again, as I saw people pounding the streets of London, past the fantastic sights of Big Ben, Cutty Sark and Tower Bridge, I thought I should have a go at that.
Normally I would keep this thought to myself but not today - oh no - whilst enjoying a barbecue and glass or two of wine to celebrate friend Alan's birthday I told every-one - I'll be there next year.
There are some positives in all of this. I've looked at the marathon website and even downloaded a training plan - good news there - it is 26 weeks to train - so no need to start quite yet! I think I might need an MP3 player to keep me motivated on those long training runs - and what to wear - definetely need to go and look at the latest line in sports gear....

A hair-raising thought

All the UK papers seem to be taken up by the news that Cherie Blair ( as in wife of Tony) spent £7700 on hairdressing during last year's election campaign. The costs mounted up after she apparently paid a personal hairdresser £275 a day for a month.

Clearly Cherie's appearance is closely scrutinised and I expect the same papers that remark on the bill would have been quick to remark if she had appeared in the least bit disheveled. It has however made me reflect on my own personal hair care and whether I should be adopting a more high maintenance approach. Currently I run to an 8 weekly wet cut costing £12 coupled with a bottle of hair dye (£3.77) applied at about the same 8 weekly interval. If I am really trying to look good I might co-ordinate the two events - but that's rare.

Why do women in their 40's feel the need to cover the grey - men seem to let it go and - damn them - look great on it. And if you succumb to the bottle - when do you stop and how? I can't recall seeing any 60 year olds walking around with their roots growing out - is there some place they go for 6 months whilst it is all happening?

It's Easter Monday and we have just been out for a long bike ride. The idea is to get a bit fitter - not a crazy fitness regime or anything silly like that - just to be able to break into a gentle run for a bus without feeling like you might die would be good. Came back feeling great - very pleased with ourselves - so much so that I celebrated by finishing off the bowl of chocolate profiteroles which were taking up too much space in the fridge. I justified this display of over eating because I surely must have burnt off at least the same number of calories on the bike ride. Back to square one I guess.

First posting

Wow choosing a name for my blog seemed to be about as hard as naming my children! Everything I chose was vetoed - this time by the computer rather than my husband. Finally got there when son number 2 came in to complain the fridge was empty again and when would I be going shopping - story of my life.
With all the logging onto the net for various things I now seem to have a small book written of user names - I run through the usual favourites and get the 'computer says no' response - the more outlandish I get the more the computer seems to delight in rejecting my offering.
Anyway - I am looking forward to getting to grips with the world of blogging - once I have been shopping to restock that fridge.