Saturday began bright and early (well actually it was not especially bright and far too early!) Robbie took 5 of our 6 children out for the day and I was required to deliver them to the station. I intended to make the most of the peace and quiet and make a big impact on the washing and ironing. I had a vague hope that I may even have time to rediscover the carpet in Sam's room but I think it is probably a job for Time Team as some extensive digging is required! I ran out of time, so in the absence of Time Team Sam has to do it himself on Sunday afternoon - I can't believe that I watched him hoover his carpet only a week ago, it is quite an achievement to create so much chaos in a week!
I put the first load of washing on and after all the usual running water noises I noticed that there was a vital ingredient missing - the drum was making all the usual noises but it was not going round. Great! I had the 'European Washing Mountain' sorted into loads in the kitchen floor and there was no way that the machine was going to oblige. It is a few years old and not worth repairing so it is just a case of seeing how soon my chosen company can deliver a replacement. I absolutely refuse to buy from Comet and the like, I don't want to be served by someone who is still at primary school and I certainly don't want any further encounter with what they dare to call 'customer services'. I am too old to waste my life battling to enforce my consumer rights - been there got the T shirt! Anyway my mum came to the rescue and I bagged up four loads of washing and carted them off to her house.
My mum and stepfather live in a village between Northampton and Bedford and it isn't possible to park in their lane so I had to park at the top and carry the washing down to the house. Mum was worrying about peacocks. They have had problems with peacocks in the village for a number of years, they may be pretty to look at, but the noise they make is very loud and unimaginably ugly, and when they walk around on the roof they sound like a troop of wandering clog dancers. David my stepfather said that there are about 7 peacocks living wild in the village now and they have had a leafletthrough the door asking how residents feel about culling the peacocks. They would be very glad to be free of the peacocks, but mum cant bring herself to agree to harming them.
As I was heading home I saw whole group of starlings in the lane - feathered pests on a smaller scale. What is the collective noun for a flock of starlings? I have just checked, apparently it is a murmuration of starlings, but I think a riot of starlings would be more appropriate. Anyway seeing them all in the lane behaving exuberantly reminded me of Emily. When she was learning to talk I was very firm with my mum about using the correct name for birds and animals, etc., I wasn't impressed when I caught mum pointing out the 'dicky-birds'. Ok, my only excuse is that first time mum's are noted for being a bit up tight about silly stuff, I was considerably more chilled by the time the other children came along! As a result of my obsessive parenting Emily made her own rules and for many years she called pigeons 'dickigeons' and starlings became 'darlings'. I must admit that once I got used to thinking of them as 'darlings' I didn't feel quite so hostile towards them.
I collected the gang from the station in the evening, all were tired and all had sore feet from doing lots of walking. Sam was walking like John Wayne because his feet hurt so much, I had predicted that his shoes (skater type slip on's) would hurt his feet and I insisted that he had to take his comfortable sandals too. I may as well have saved my breath, he had taken the sandals but he refused to wear them when his feet started hurting because they didn't match his shorts!!
After a long and frustrating day I needed a laugh and I got it. The children told me that on the way home the train crew were a bit short staffed and Robbie was asked to do a stint as a 'trolley dolly' giving out refreshments and he seemed to thoroughly enjoy the experience. I innocently asked if he had managed to get the wiggle right - many of the regular 'galley slaves' seem to model themselves on Graham Norton! To my surprise (and stifled amusement) Robbie launched into a long and complicated description of the difference in height and design between the first class trolley and the standard class trolley. I will spare you the detail, but Robbie believes that the first class trolley is too low and causes staff to stoop, thus preventing the wiggle. He was completely unaware that he delivered the whole explanation with his hand on his hip in the most camp pose you could imagine!
Showing posts with label Sam. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sam. Show all posts
Wednesday, 5 March 2008
Holiday Time 04.08.07
There is just a week left before we go on holiday to Norfolk. I am really looking forward to it because it is so quiet and relaxing. The bungalow that we stay in is lovely, not especially modern, but it feels so good to be there. The back garden leads straight down to the beach and we can sit there and admire the amazing Norfolk skies and beautiful sunsets. A couple of years ago we saw a rainbow like a thick column reaching straight up fro the sea to the sky. Strictly speaking it wasn't a rainbow, there is another name for it, but to me it was a straight rainbow. It certainly makes you appreciate the world in a different way than when you are cooped up in the town with all the buildings around. At home you hardly notice the sky and you forget how small and insignificant you are in the grand scheme of things.One of Sam's favourite holiday activities over the years has been bat watching. As long as it is not too windy there are quite a few bats flying around at dusk and when he was a bit younger he would expect me to sit outside with him for ages watching the bats. One year he had the crackpot idea of trying to photograph them or catch them on video, but they are too fast and erratic and you would need a much better camera than mine. I enjoy photography and I spend lots of time on the beach because there is always something new to see or a new angle for a photo. The picture with this post is of a butterfly that settled close to me in the garden at Walcott, it was (eventually) obliging enough to stay still while I took the photo.
It will not come as any great surprise that Robbie's favourite activities are train related. He usually goes off for a day to explore the North Norfolk Railway, this year he wants an extra day so that he can check out the Mid Norfolk Railway as well. That will not be the end of trains, we will have to go and buy a train jig saw for Robbie to do and there will be an expedition to Cromer to visit one of Robbie's favourite book shops. Then there will be at least one journey to Norwich on the train because he likes to see all the different units at the depot on the way into Norwich. With all that railway stuff to do it is an absolute certainty that he will spend the rest of the holiday talking about TRAINS!
Ambition 03.08.07
According to my children I am very old fashioned. The reason for this sweeping statement was because I had asked the girls what they hoped for as an eventual career. To them it seems years away, but I don't think it is so unreasonable to expect someone who is about to go to university to have given a little thought to career options. Apparently people don't do that these days. This set me thinking, I have an old postcard with wandering footprints on it with the words 'People who don't know where they are going usually end up somewhere else". I guess that is true with careers as much as anything else. The high hopes of childhood often diminish and people settle for something very different. I just want the girls to make the most of every opportunity because it is so much more difficult to change career or undertake further training later in life when you are tied by financial commitments.For much of my childhood I wanted to be a farmer or a writer, my eventual career has been very different. My very first ambition was to be a news reader, I was only very small and I used to sit in the bath holding one of those old fashioned shower attachments that fitted onto the taps as if it was a microphone, I would make up all sorts of news and pretend I was on the Radio. On the subject of microphones, when Laura was little she wanted to be a Spice Girl, but she will kill me for mentioning it. Robbie wanted to be a lorry driver because he liked lorries, so he hasn't strayed too far from his original aspirations, it seems his passion for trains has served him well because he loves his work. Sam's first ambition was to be a trolley pusher at the supermarket. At some point a well meaning aunt suggested he may like to be a vet instead because he is very good with animals, but Sam declined claiming that he only liked animals from the outside not from the inside! He then went on to his spy phase, there was a brief period of wanting to be a super hero, then he wanted to be a cartoonist. He still has a strong interest in films and he has had various thoughts about careers in the film industry. I wonder what his future will hold.
So what is my ambition now? Fairly simple really, to grow old disgracefully and to write.
Time For A Change 02.08.07
Robbie was not too impressed by being called Donald (as in where's your trousers) yesterday, so I am not going to write about him today - he deserves a rest!
I have been giving a lot of thought to work life balance recently as there are a number of changes taking place at work. At present I work a little less than full time hours and I still seem to spend my entire life chasing my tail. In fact I am thinking of naming our house 'Forth Bridge' because the housework and maintenance is always a work in progress! Sometimes I wonder if it is worth working so hard to give the children a decent quality of life when most of our free time is taken up with housework, ironing and fighting a losing battle in the garden.
This morning I walked into the kitchen and felt a howl of anguish welling up inside me. Yet again the 'washing up fairy' had missed us from our rounds and despite everything being washed up after our evening meal a precarious pile of crockery was sprouting from the bowl. Perhaps it was someone's idea of modern art in the style of Tracy Emin. Actually I think that Tracy Emin's 'Dark Bed' is rather eloquent, maybe the full washing up bowl speaks volumes too - about a lack of responsibility, or possibly it suggests that we have hungry intruders every night! No, I am not getting a dish washer, our global footprint needs to shrink, not grow!
It is surprising how we so quickly get used to difficulties within our own home and I am sure I am not the only person who has put up with an inconvenient kitchen for too many years - and on current finances it is likely for a few years longer as well! When I actually had a good look at the kitchen I realised that there are only two items in the right position and at the correct height for me to use easily, thankfully one of those is the kettle! The sink is also at the correct height for easy (and frequent) use, but everything else causes me to bend down, to reach above head height, to use steps or to reach around an obstacle. Clearly it must have been designed (or more likely thrown together) by a man. Perhaps I can't have a new kitchen at this stage but I am going to use my work skills to make some long overdue changes. I am going to risk assess it, create an action plan and reorganise all the storage to meet my needs. Robbie hates change, so I expect he will have quite a bit to say about it but there again he has a lot to say about almost everything. At present I even need to use the steps to alter the volume on my radio because it is perched on top of the fridge freezer! Even worse if I want to open or close a window I have to use steps and scramble onto the worktop - its madness! I am sure with a bit of planning and a lot of effort I can make my life much easier.
On a lighter note I got up yesterday to find that Sam's collection of small superhero figures had escaped from his bedroom and were arranged on top of the hall radiator in what I can only describe as startling poses. Wonder Woman appeared to be having her wicked way with Superman and a different version of Superman was in an extremely compromising position with another male superhero. I will spare you any more details but after briefly thinking that I must be a complete failure as a parent, I saw the funny side and had a bit of a laugh while making myself a nice cup of tea to recover from the shock!
I have been giving a lot of thought to work life balance recently as there are a number of changes taking place at work. At present I work a little less than full time hours and I still seem to spend my entire life chasing my tail. In fact I am thinking of naming our house 'Forth Bridge' because the housework and maintenance is always a work in progress! Sometimes I wonder if it is worth working so hard to give the children a decent quality of life when most of our free time is taken up with housework, ironing and fighting a losing battle in the garden.
This morning I walked into the kitchen and felt a howl of anguish welling up inside me. Yet again the 'washing up fairy' had missed us from our rounds and despite everything being washed up after our evening meal a precarious pile of crockery was sprouting from the bowl. Perhaps it was someone's idea of modern art in the style of Tracy Emin. Actually I think that Tracy Emin's 'Dark Bed' is rather eloquent, maybe the full washing up bowl speaks volumes too - about a lack of responsibility, or possibly it suggests that we have hungry intruders every night! No, I am not getting a dish washer, our global footprint needs to shrink, not grow!
It is surprising how we so quickly get used to difficulties within our own home and I am sure I am not the only person who has put up with an inconvenient kitchen for too many years - and on current finances it is likely for a few years longer as well! When I actually had a good look at the kitchen I realised that there are only two items in the right position and at the correct height for me to use easily, thankfully one of those is the kettle! The sink is also at the correct height for easy (and frequent) use, but everything else causes me to bend down, to reach above head height, to use steps or to reach around an obstacle. Clearly it must have been designed (or more likely thrown together) by a man. Perhaps I can't have a new kitchen at this stage but I am going to use my work skills to make some long overdue changes. I am going to risk assess it, create an action plan and reorganise all the storage to meet my needs. Robbie hates change, so I expect he will have quite a bit to say about it but there again he has a lot to say about almost everything. At present I even need to use the steps to alter the volume on my radio because it is perched on top of the fridge freezer! Even worse if I want to open or close a window I have to use steps and scramble onto the worktop - its madness! I am sure with a bit of planning and a lot of effort I can make my life much easier.
On a lighter note I got up yesterday to find that Sam's collection of small superhero figures had escaped from his bedroom and were arranged on top of the hall radiator in what I can only describe as startling poses. Wonder Woman appeared to be having her wicked way with Superman and a different version of Superman was in an extremely compromising position with another male superhero. I will spare you any more details but after briefly thinking that I must be a complete failure as a parent, I saw the funny side and had a bit of a laugh while making myself a nice cup of tea to recover from the shock!
Tuesday, 4 March 2008
What's in a Name?
I have a few days off work to spend with the children and as the weather was bad again today we decided to spoil ourselves and go out for lunch. At a table close to us were two mums, one had a baby boy and a little girl who looked about two, the other mum had a boy aged about two and a half. At first as I glanced across at the little girl it reminded me of when Emily and Laura were little and all the paraphernalia we had to drag around even on a simple shopping trip. I loved it when the children were small, but I wouldn't have the stamina to do it all over again.
The little girl looked cute but I soon realised that looks can be deceptive, she behaved very badly and I marvelled at her lung capacity and the piercing quality of her voice. It is incredible that such a little person could be responsible for so much noise. When the mum spoke to the little girl I realised that she had tempted fate and was now reaping the rewards - the child was called Angel! This seems to be quite a popular name these days, I have come across 3 girls called Angel and all three were tiny terrors, more suited to horns and a tail than wings.
My mum once advised me that names should be chosen to last and before lumbering a child with a name you should think how it sounds with the prefix aunt or uncle. Wise advice, unfortunately I forgot to apply it when choosing Samuel's name, he is not impressed by the prospect of becoming 'Uncle Sam' one day! I think some parents are unwise in the names they choose for their children and a few are downright cruel. There was a boy at Emily's school called Aladdin, poor kid, it was no surprise that he had problems. I met someone a few years younger than me (I was born in 1960's) called Godfrey, his childhood must have been a real struggle with an old man's name, he seemed to have survived by being eccentric. I think the worse name I have come across belonged to a chap born in the 1970's who was called Heathcliffe. He was a bit of a rough diamond and I often wondered how he acquired his unusual name as I couldn't imagine that his mum was an Emily Bronte fan. Eventually I was able to ask him about it, he had been the youngest in a huge family and his mum had run out of boy's names, so she chose the name of a character in a film that she had watched shortly before giving birth.
Some names are cute for a baby or toddler but are less suitable when possessed by a grown man in his early thirties. I knew the young man in question only as Chris, but when I had to assist him with some form filling the awful truth was revealed. The poor chap had been saddled with the name Christopher Robin!
The choice of names rarely meets with the wholehearted approval of the recipient. My own children claim to be mentally scarred by the names they were given. Emily quite likes hers, but her friends at primary school teased her about her middle name Frances, they would point to a spot in the distance and say 'Emily, France is that way' it really annoyed her. Laura claimed that I had failed her by not calling her Mawgan, and Sam changed his name to Flash when he was about 8, his teacher was not amused!
One last word on the subject of names, be careful what your children call their pets. At our vets they call you in to the surgery using the name of the pet and your surname. It was bad enough when the vet called out 'Wonder Woman' and I had to stand up and walk across the waiting room carrying a hamster, but the worse moment was when I took my friend's dog to the vet, foolishly she had booked him in using his real name so a very red faced me had to stand up when the vet called out Spliff!!
The little girl looked cute but I soon realised that looks can be deceptive, she behaved very badly and I marvelled at her lung capacity and the piercing quality of her voice. It is incredible that such a little person could be responsible for so much noise. When the mum spoke to the little girl I realised that she had tempted fate and was now reaping the rewards - the child was called Angel! This seems to be quite a popular name these days, I have come across 3 girls called Angel and all three were tiny terrors, more suited to horns and a tail than wings.
My mum once advised me that names should be chosen to last and before lumbering a child with a name you should think how it sounds with the prefix aunt or uncle. Wise advice, unfortunately I forgot to apply it when choosing Samuel's name, he is not impressed by the prospect of becoming 'Uncle Sam' one day! I think some parents are unwise in the names they choose for their children and a few are downright cruel. There was a boy at Emily's school called Aladdin, poor kid, it was no surprise that he had problems. I met someone a few years younger than me (I was born in 1960's) called Godfrey, his childhood must have been a real struggle with an old man's name, he seemed to have survived by being eccentric. I think the worse name I have come across belonged to a chap born in the 1970's who was called Heathcliffe. He was a bit of a rough diamond and I often wondered how he acquired his unusual name as I couldn't imagine that his mum was an Emily Bronte fan. Eventually I was able to ask him about it, he had been the youngest in a huge family and his mum had run out of boy's names, so she chose the name of a character in a film that she had watched shortly before giving birth.
Some names are cute for a baby or toddler but are less suitable when possessed by a grown man in his early thirties. I knew the young man in question only as Chris, but when I had to assist him with some form filling the awful truth was revealed. The poor chap had been saddled with the name Christopher Robin!
The choice of names rarely meets with the wholehearted approval of the recipient. My own children claim to be mentally scarred by the names they were given. Emily quite likes hers, but her friends at primary school teased her about her middle name Frances, they would point to a spot in the distance and say 'Emily, France is that way' it really annoyed her. Laura claimed that I had failed her by not calling her Mawgan, and Sam changed his name to Flash when he was about 8, his teacher was not amused!
One last word on the subject of names, be careful what your children call their pets. At our vets they call you in to the surgery using the name of the pet and your surname. It was bad enough when the vet called out 'Wonder Woman' and I had to stand up and walk across the waiting room carrying a hamster, but the worse moment was when I took my friend's dog to the vet, foolishly she had booked him in using his real name so a very red faced me had to stand up when the vet called out Spliff!!
....A Robbie Special! 25.07.07
I was a busy night last night as Emily returned from her tour or Poland with the Northamptonshire County Youth Concert Band. It was so great to have her back. Anyway, everybody was busy doing their own thing when Sam came along and asked a 'robbie special' 'Mum....Do teeth have skin?' To be honest we didn't really answer it, we just laughed it off as yet another question.....but you start to wonder what the true answer is........don't you...?
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