Perfect weather for ducks

The past couple of weeks have been such a joy having Robert at home more often. I mean just to give you some idea of how much more time we've had together as a family, he arrived home one day last week at 5.20pm and apologised for being late because he stopped to pick up a few things for the next day.

More than anything, it's meant that we have more time for days out together whereas before he was simply too exhausted to even think about doing much at the weekend.


Notice how far back from the pond (and the chance of encountering geese) I'm standing.

Not that it mattered as these two geese followed us the entire way round the pond. They put me in mind of two gossipy old women with the rollers in their hair. You should have heard the two of them honking away at each other.



And chasing off any other birds you dared come near them!



And of course Chloe has transformed into a complete daddy's girl lately. She just can't be parted from Robert at the minute.



I hope you are all getting the chance for some family days out too.

Selfish

Is how I plan to be this year with my time.

The run up to Christmas was mad. Keeping an eye on three shops, three blogs, filling orders locally and a handful of items sold through a local shop didn't leave as much time as I would have liked for my family.

Don't get me wrong I'm very grateful for the work, but following a re-evaluation over the last few days I've realised that I've been spending time on things that simply don't work. At least not for me, they were simply time sucky wastes of time.

So they're gone.

See the Woods Designs Blog - Gone
Project 365 - Gone
See the Woods on Misi - Gone
See the Woods on Coriandr - Gone

I try not to be the type of person that will talk about something, but wuss out of actually doing it in the end so the second I made my mind up about what was and wasn't working. I deleted them, cut the fat so to speak.

I never finished the project 365 and honestly I'm not really sure what possessed me to think I could do it in the first place. That little half finished endeavour was just depressing sitting there.

The Designs blog was dull and not what I had intended it to be so it didn't make the cut either.

Go handmade was good with some brilliant articles but there are so many more brilliant zines promoting handmade that I don't think another one is necessary. It was a huge amount of work putting it together and to be honest I think my time will be better spent elsewhere.

And views and favourites aren't the same thing as sales. It'll sound particularly cut throat but spending time on a shop that doesn't sell anything is nothing more than a waste of time. Bye bye Misi and Coriandr.

So now I'm left with my Folksy shop, this little haven of mine and of course my foody endeavours. I can't survive without food and it might as well be good food that I enjoy:)

So yes, I'm being more than a little bit selfish where my time is concerned but I really want and need to concentrate more on my family and this year I'm going to be incredibly harsh on the things that take my time away from them. Basically if I don't think it's worth it (and it will really need to be pulling it's weight for me to think it's worth it) I just won't be doing it.

Basically I'll only be spending my time on things that make me happy and where it's appreciated. Selfish? Yes, but very much worth it.

From here on in, my top priorities are my family, my friends both in real life and online and my home. This rest can argue amongst themselves and find a slot in behind those somewhere.

I'm normally not a fan of resolutions but somehow I see this one sticking around for the long haul.

My Poor Mum

She's having a really rough time of it lately and nothing we do seems to lift her mood.

It started with a handbag that my brother was buying for his girlfriend. When it was delivered to my mum's office she couldn't help herself and had to have a look at it. Of course she didn't realise that she had a dot of ink on her thumb which very quickly transferred itself onto the stupid bag which very quickly sucked it up like a sponge. Quick side note, Radley handbags made from incredibly soft leather probably aren't the wisest choice for a bag, not if you plan on using it anyway. That little flumox cost her £75!

Then she received a letter from the very lovely people at Disability Living Allowance who are clearly trying to get some money together for the Christmas party this year. Basically my grandfather died two and a half years ago in the early hours of the morning on 22 May. From what we can gather from the letter because he had the absolute cheek to die before midnight on the 22nd, DLA would like their money back for the period 9th May to 22nd May because he wasn't alive for all of it!!! Well needless to say that didn't put her in good mood either.

Neither did the fact that because she was absolutely seething in work over it a woman managed to confuddle her and walk off £157 better off by managing to get away without paying for her electric bill and a postal order. Alright, that one was my mum's fault because she wasn't concentrating but keep in mind that this woman comes into my mum's post office at least twice a week and chats away asking after Chloe and my mum's family and when you consider that her actual change should have been nothing but a handful of coins instead of the handful of notes she ran off, it really makes you wonder what is it about this time of year that brings out the worst in some people!! That's another £157 that will have to come out of her pocket if she doesn't set eyes on the woman again this side of Christmas.

My mum has always had a hard time at Christmas. She gets so wrapped up in the money side of things, somehow convincing herself that the more money she spends the better Christmas will be when in actual fact it always turns out to be the complete opposite, at least for her.

When it comes right down to it, although shops and supermarkets and toy manufacturers would love you to think otherwise, Christmas and money don't really have anything to do with each other.

I'm trying to get across to my mum that Christmas dinner won't be any more special if she buys the huge turkey and cured ham instead of the roasting chicken and a couple of gammon slices at an eighth the price or that Chloe's going to any more over the moon with the £200 go kart instead of the £40 one. Alright, the child said she wanted a Ben 10 go kart because she saw it on tv but I can tell you know she won't give a toss if she gets the plain black one with the 79p sheet of Ben 10 stickers slapped on it and better than that, her day will be the bestest in the whole wide world ever if we let her put the stickers on herself.

Christmas shouldn't be about money, but my mum has a hard time getting past that because when my brother and I were kids we didn't have any money and my mum usually borrowed to make sure there was something under the tree. Ever since then she's never really been able to overcome what can only be described as her hatred of all things Christmas. She's already trying to put a brave face on at a time of the year she can't stand and the slightest little thing gone wrong can send her into the depths of despair.

It's a real shame that something like money has ruined almost the last 30 Christmases for my mum. If I could just get her round to realising what Christmas is really all about.

Now I know that everyone has different opinions on what Christmas is really about, but for me Christmas is that its that special time of year when everyone (including your boss) agrees that you should have a few days off work and be at home. With family. With friends. With loved ones.

Whether you spend it at home curled up under a blanket by the fire, getting fat and merry, or driving clear across the country to be with ones you love. What it all boils down to is having a few days to just be together and no amount of pears covered in gold leaf and used as place settings on your table is enhance Christmas any more than it already is, just by having the people you care most about near to you.

Do not pass go.

Oh this house looks like a bomb's gone off.

After a week of Robert being at home (the ultimate mess maker) followed by a week at home with Chloe while she was sick (mess maker's apprentice) my house is a complete and utter wreck.

Never mind the fact that after mentioning here that while I didn't actually need the money that going back to work would provide, it would be nice to have a bit extra to stash away for Christmas and emergencies, like if the washing machine died. Yep, you guessed it, the washing machine died. Well not died exactly, but a huge hole in the rubber door seal and water all over the kitchen floor does put a stop to laundry day. After replacing the door seal yesterday, I'm now ploughing through a full week and a bit's worth of laundry. Just a little tip as well, if a washing machine repair guy tells you that replacing the rubber door seal on a washing machine is a complete and utter nightmare and something that you want to pay a professional £100 to do, he's lying. It is a two person job, but only because it's a lot easier if one person holds the circular springy thing in place at the bottom of the seal while the other person stretches it up and over the top. Totally doable on your own, but easier with two and £15 later my washing machine is on its sixth load and I'm a happy bunny.

Also, by Friday Chloe was great and definitely on the mend after what I still think was a tummy bug but what her doctor said had symptoms like swine flu. All day Friday she was great and stuffing her face after not eating for a few days, she slept like a dream on Friday night and was great all day Saturday. She went to my mum's house on Saturday afternoon and again, yep you guessed it, she's sick again. My mum just called to say she was vomiting again last night (something she hasn't done since Wednesday morning) and she was up all night coughing and crying so I'm probably looking at a few more days off work at the minute, but I'll see how she goes later this afternoon. Of course, this only enforces my belief that the world is filled with disease ridden carrier monkeys and my daughter is only safe from these nasties when she's at home with me (my issues and yes I'm working on them).

Robert's sick too and currently looks like death and at the minute he really doesn't think he'll be fit for work tomorrow, considering that tomorrow he's supposed to spend the majority of the day about 30 feet in the air perched on top of a scissor lift and he's dizzy standing on terra firma at the minute it's looking more and more unlikely that he'll be able to manage it.

The cat has taught herself how to hunt and I opened the back door this morning to be greeted by her first headless little present. I'm not entirely sure if it's her first confirmed kill or not, but I'm not going out there to look for any more. Oh the joys!

So in short what I'm saying is that I'm going to put the kettle on and have a coffee. If I tidy away all the toys and crayons and books, they'll only be dragged back out again, if I fluff cushions they'll quickly be flatten.

Sometimes, mummy needs a day off too.....

My Last Weekend

I go back to work on Monday. This Monday. As in not tomorrow but the next day. Two more sleeps.

Whose bright idea was this anyway!

I only realised this morning that all of my work clothes, suits, shirts and stuff are in vac bags in the loft. They were dry cleaned before I packed them away and they're airing upstairs now (thanks to Robert).

I'm finally coming to terms with the fact that I'll not be able to cope with the amount of things I've been doing once I'm back at work. The zine will probably be shelved for a while at least until I sort myself in to some semblance of a routine and work out exactly how much time I have to spare. I'll be finishing an issue this weekend for Christmas. In truth I should have had it finished a week ago but I've been inundated with unexpected orders in the last two weeks. A few smaller versions of my daisies have been sold through a local shop. The first one sold very quickly and then the shop owner received a call from a customer who ordered the next two sets which the shop owner had asked me to make so they won't make it onto the shelves either!

At the last count my mum has now sold 22 sets of my prim style Christmas trees. The woman just keeps taking more and more orders without any regard for when I'm going to make them:)

I can't complain though. Typically I'm now so busy I could actually do with not having to go back to work, but it will still be nice to have some extra cash to throw aside for those just in case moments. You know the ones, washing machine giving up the ghost or my good self managing to knacker yet another iron or kettle!

Chloe's been asking more and more about when I'm going back to work. Specifically she asks if she'll know when I go back to work. I think she's a bit worried that there'll be changes but I'm trying to put her mind at rest that everything for her will remain the same.

I've explained to her that she will be staying in school for lunch from Monday on and that she would be doing that anyway even if I weren't going back to work. She's fine with the lunch thing and I think after a few days of still being dropped off and collected from school by me she'll realise that it will all be fine.

If anything she'll actually arrive home to a clean and tidy home instead of the bomb site I only realise I've created each day at noon leaving myself absolutely no time to pack everything away before collecting her.

I've a freezer full of meals and other bits and pieces like cookies. I'll still try and cook fresh everyday but at least I know they're there in case time gets away from me. I feel a bit better knowing that I have a fall back.

Robert's going to have to figure out something else to do during the day because he won't have me at home to ping IPs for him. Poor soul, he'll just have to think of something else.

Now if you'll excuse me there are a half finished pair of gloves calling out to me and I need to get back to them before second glove syndrome kicks in.

Nerd Alert

I'm paying lip service to the old menu plan this week. The temperature is to reach 29C by Wednesday so this week I will be mostly eating salads. Apart from tonight when we had burgers and onions rings followed by big slices of gingerbread with lemon icing. I'll post the recipe for that later in the week (the cake not the burgers).

Right, that's that out of the way.

I'm feeling very good about myself today because I had a very productive weekend. Do you ever get like that, if you take it easy over the weekend and relax you end up a bit depressed and feeling like you wasted all that time come Monday but if you manage to get a couple of things done and dusted you feel great about yourself? Maybe that's just me.

I checked the weather during the week and on seeing that it was to rain cats and dogs over the weekend I rented a big heavy duty steam cleaner for Saturday to tackle my carpets (happy in the knowledge that Chloe no longer spills).

On Saturday morning the weather was, as predicted, rubbish so the husband popped out and collected the steam cleaner. The plan was to set to work as soon as my mum collected Chloe in the afternoon. It rained all morning and the wind blew a gale and then my mum arrived and the clouds parted and the sun shone and the birdies sang their little hearts out. Murphy's out to kick my ass for getting one over on him (Bring. It. On).

So I spent my Saturday afternoon in the sweltering heat, cleaning carpets and sweating like a mad woman. Do you ever remember that advert years ago for women's antiperspirant "They say women don't sweat, they glow. Well I glow buckets"? Yep, that was me on Saturday. It wasn't a pretty sight, clothes glued to my back, hair plastered to my forehead. Meanwhile, Murphy's wet himself laughing, he's on the floor by this stage tears streaming down his face, fists pounding the floor with the hilarity of it all. Don't worry I clipped him round the back of the head with the cleaner just to remind who's boss round here.

I lost roughly a stone that afternoon, but later found it again at the bottom of a tube of Pringles. Balance restored.

Still I sit here now surround by lovely clean carpets. The windows have been open full all weekend and the smell has all but disappeared. Have you ever cleaned your carpets with an industrial steamer because let me tell you, the smell is atrocious.

They smelt perfectly fine before I started, but if anyone has ever knocked over a pint in your living room and you spent a good ten minutes and countless towels making sure you mopped up every last drop, you may have even got down on your knees with that silly Scrubber carpet cleaner thingy the husband thought would be a good idea let me assure you now, you missed a bit.

Because when that scalding hot steam hits that particular spot on the carpet all of a sudden your home will smell like a brewery.

And before you go running off to buy some Shake n Vac, it won't work. Even doing the wee dance won't help either.

On Sunday (shattered and a bit light headed) I decided to take it easy. Sort through a few things, filing, post, tidy up my crafty bits and make sure everything could be easily found. At the bottom of one of my tuff crates I came across a few things I'd started with xmas in mind but hadn't got round to finishing. A couple of knitted things and it was really only the making up that needed doing so I settled myself down to those and once they were finished I was able to wrap and label them using one of Lupin's wrapping paper tutes:)

I hauled out the huge tuff crate which is stashed on top of my wardrobe in the bedroom and went through it, checking the gifts off the list I keep inside and do you know what. Apart from Chloe and the husband (Bob, might as well get that one out of the way while I'm at it) I'm all done.

Sweet or what? I'll admit now that I'm in the middle of a macrame scarflette for my aunt which wasn't on the original list but which she's asked for and I'm planning a couple of pieces of macrame jewellery for stocking fillers as such but apart from that all of my presents for people outside the house are finished. Not only finished but they wrapped and labeled and its only the middle of August.

Now I'll just get myself comfy here against this rather tall concrete wall, pop the blindfold on, light a cigarette, burn tip of nose, lift blindfold slightly, light cigarette and wait for the firing squad.

.....

.....

.....

You done!

Good!

Cause so am I. Neener, neener, neener.

I need your help

Two weeks from today my little girl will start school.


I mean look at her, she's such a tiny little thing. The thing is though, she just can't wait to get to school. She talks of nothing else, every day "Am I going to school today mummy?". The same question every single morning.

We already have her uniform.


And her shoes...



With the little kitties on the outside of the shoes requested by the school so that she can tell easily which shoe goes with which foot. Well hey didn't have to be kitties, but you get the idea.

So now my little girl has a drawer in her room filled with green polo shirts, royal blue jumpers, grey trousers, skirts and pinafores, not to mention tiny little white socks which amazing reach all the way past her knees, grey tights, new pants and vests and little white airtex t-shirts for PE and toffee soled plimsoles so they don't leave marks on the games hall floor. We have her school bag and her PE bag and I'm in the middle of labeling everything with her name.

We don't' have shorts for PE yet, but it's still quite strange looking into that drawer.

This is my first year doing the school supplies thing, but tell me this. Is it perfectly normally to get annoyed over silly little things when you're trying to get every bought and organised.

Case in point, regarding the PE shorts. I've had a look in a few shops now and I'm just not coming across anything suitable. Just to see if I could get lucky and find a pair I went in to Tesco yesterday. I walked along the aisles of clothes. Passing by the boys clothes I noticed perfect little shorts for a boy's PE kit, nice little navy ones with pale blue stripes up each side and the reverse, pale blue with navy stripes, just the right length and with a bit of room in them for running.

Then I walked around to the girl's side and saw the offerings. One lonely design, a pack of two pairs of shorts. And I mean shorts. One pair white, the other baby pink and they actually had that cutaway scallop at the side which took the sides of the shorts even closer to the child's hips, if such a thing is even possible.

I took one look at them and all I could here in my head was "Hi, Welcome to Hooters. My name is Candi and I'll be your waitress." No daughter of mine will ever be seen dead wearing shorts like that!

Speaking of which, I think my friends and I were the only ones to go to Hooters when it opened in Belfast. From memory they were read the riot act on false advertising and closed shortly thereafter:)

Anyway, back to the point. Is it silly to get annoyed about the fact that shops seem perfectly capable of providing suitable shorts for boys but at the same time they thing that I should be willing to dress my daughter like a cheap slapper? I think not!

So we're nearly ready, bar the shorts.

Toots can't wait and the husband is so proud of her. I mean really proud, you should see the look he gets in his eyes and the little secret smile on his face when she talks about school. Toots just doesn't have any fear about school whatsoever and she looks so grown up now. She's just ready to go and the husband is really happy to see her like that. Ready to take on the world!

I think when we brought her out of daycare way back at the start of the year we were a bit worried that she would get so used to being at home with me by this time that the very thought of school would freak her out a bit, but that just hasn't been the case. I love her so much and I'm so proud of her myself.

Now, the title of this post suggests that I need your help and here's where you come in.

You see everyone thinks this is fantastic, my mum, dad, brother, the husband and I do too. But there's still this tiny little part of me. And I do mean a tiny, little insignificant part of me that needs to freeeeeaaaaak out.

And I mean bouncing off the walls fah-reak-ing out and someone has to come along for the ride.

She's just so.....small!

Seriously, I remember bringing her home from the hospital like a week and a half ago and she would lie with her little face buried in the side of my neck and her legs curled up so that her feet only reached as far as my chest and I would sit with her like that for hours, rubbing my thumbs along the soles of her feet while she slept and rolling her little toes back and forward between my thumb and forefinger while she smiled up at me.

And now I'm supposed to just send her off to school in two weeks when she'll be, what does that work out at, like three and a half weeks old. Really?

I pretty sure I'm entitled to have a mini panic attack of sorts.

So who's in?

Menu Plan - 8/6 to 14/6

I'm still trying to process the fact that its June already. I really need to get my finger out and sort something for the Husband's birthday, not to mention Father's Day. I just don't even know what to get him this year, I really don't.

Still, once I get my food sorted for the week, its one less thing floating around in my head.

Last week's plan went to the dogs I'm afraid. The couple of times we did cook, we cooked outside to cut down on the heat in the house. It really was hot last week and after a bit of a stormy weekend the sunshine is back again today. I did do my roast chicken on Sunday though, it had cooled down a good bit here by that stage. It also means I have a good load of chicken to start my week off.

Monday

Fajitas. Toots is starting to eat more vegetables, she was always good with the basics like peas and carrots and would eat fruit until it came out of her ears but now she'll happily eat peppers and onions and a load of other things, so I'll make the fajitas heavy on the veg with a bit of chicken thrown in there too.

Tuesday

Crockpot lasagna. We'll be out on Tuesday from first thing in the morning so I can put this on beforehand and not have to worry about starting something when we arrive back home.

Wednesday

Toots will be at my mum's house this evening so I'll make a spicy chicken curry with chapatis. Toots still isn't a huge fan of curry, but she's getting there.

Thursday

Fish pie with steamed veg. I have smoked white fish in the freezer which didn't get used last week so I'll defrost that and use in the pie.

Friday

Burgers and chips for a wee Friday treat.

Saturday

I'm really hoping the weather will be good this weekend and we can get down to the beach again or off to the forest for the day. I may just throw all the bits and pieces for an omelette in a bag along with some bread for toast and I'll make it on the camp stove. Failing that I can just make the same thing at home if the weather isn't great.

Sunday

I haven't a clue yet. I'll be going shopping on Saturday at some stage so I'll sort something out then.

Baking

Lemon and coconut cake. Its just a nice, plain slab cake that I can cut into squares and the husband can take for his lunches at work.

Flapjacks, because they're really handy for a quick breakfast in morning if we need to get out the door. Toots is perfectly happy to eat them because she thinks she's getting biscuits for breakfast.

I think that might do it actually, we've been eating too much baked stuff around here and besides we'll overload on the stuff later in the month. I'll need to do cake for the husband and my dad on Father's Day and then I always make the hubs a strawberry pavlova for his birthday when the local strawberries really come in to their own.

What about you, any nice foodie plans this week or do you have something special planned for Father's Day? Don't worry I won't tell anyone.

Alright! Who stole my baby?

The alarm clock screams through the early morning brain fog. As I slowly wake and start to climb out of bed I hear the all too familiar sound of little feet padding across their bedroom.

Her bedroom door opens, blissful darkness behind her provided by the blackout curtain. She shuffles out into the daylight before turning into the bathroom calling over her shoulder for me to "put the kettle on".

She hops up on the loo and rests her chin in her cupped hands, her elbows barely resting on her tiny knees as she lets out a great sigh and heaves her shoulders. Another day.

I watch through the crack in the door as she washes her hands and then eyes her toothbrush. She seems to think about it for a while before rubbing her hand over her belly and turning away from the sink, breakfast first.

I head for the kitchen and flick the switch on the kettle, listening to the quiet rustling sound upstairs as she decides on her clothes for the day.

I'm already on my second cup of coffee when she arrives in the kitchen, having settled on a sun dress and a pair of snow boots today. She pushes the curls and tendrils back from her face, asking if I think she needs it cut. I drop a few slices of bread into the toaster.

She pulls her steps to the counter and asks if her tea is cool yet (decaf). She butters her toast and munches in silence, every now and then taking a sip of her tea and looking out into the garden.

She hears her dad getting out of the shower, reaches over and flicks the switch on the kettle and drops another slice of bread in the toaster, buttering it for him as he comes into the kitchen.

She enquires if he has to work today and if so, will he be late home. She talks to him about the random things of great importance in a four year old's life while he has his breakfast and when he finishes she sees him off at the door with a hug, a kiss and a request "not to work too hard".

Back on her step, she finishes her tea. and brushes her hair out of her eyes again Without looking in my direction she asks if we have any plans today.

And so I ask again... Who stole my baby?

Oh we do like to be beside the seaside.

Oh don't look at me like that.

Yes I'll admit, I'm drawn to the water. I can't help myself. It's a sickness really.

It's a handy thing that we have such beautiful beaches here.

This is Knockinelder.






See that, not another soul in sight. That's because Knockinelder is on the invisible part of the Ards Peninsula. The bit below the convenient little red line.

Nobody seems to know it exists.

It's my favourite bit of the peninsula.




We collected Toots from my mum's house on Sunday afternoon and headed out with no real plan of where to go. She fell asleep in the back of the car so we just kept going along the full length of the east coast. She eventually woke up, desperate for the loo just as we were passing Kearney.

We pulled in to the tiny little village and even though it was a full two days ago now, I think the husband is still there. He completely fell in love with the place as soon as he set eyes on it, with its tiny little white washed cottages, perfect little picket fence enclosed gardens, all beautifully manicured and filled with flowers and its private little cove beach, he's even more determined to win the lottery now:)

The tide was out when we arrived and the sun was beating down. We could feel the heat on our faces and the sand was warm under foot.




But none of that changes the fact that we're dealing with the Irish Sea.

If you don't know, the Irish Sea is pickling cold. All. Year. Round.

Not that any of that stops of four year old.

She had already fallen in to the water face first by this stage and was completely soaked, but still that didn't stop her.

I was perfectly content to sit on the sand, with my hot cup of coffee and my camera merrily taking pictures like every good mother should.

But then the husband got stuck in.

The bugger.

Quietly egging my on. Calling me a chicken. Telling me the child had more stones than I did...

So, as promised and without any further ado.

I give you Leanne, the big ass chicken.

Running like a demented person back out of the Irish Sea.

Because the child does in fact have bigger stones than me.

I should have grown out of this kind of behaviour years ago.

And its disgraceful that the husband can still get a rise out of me.

Murlough Bay

On Thursday we spent a long day at Murlough Bay. Murlough National Nature Reserve is on the County Down coast below the Mourne Mountains. The sand dunes are over 5,000 years old and are an area of special scientific interest and a special area of conservation.

Still when you arrive with a four year old all the long haired Dexter cattle, Exmoor ponies, birds, rabbits and butterflies mean squat.

Because sand + water = BEACH.





And there's a lot of beach here.




I spent a lot of time at Murlough as a kid and visited a few times on school trips but somehow I managed to forget that even if a sky high wall were to built around Ireland, it would still be windy here.

Really really windy.

Toots and I left the beach well and truly sand blasted.

But not before she insisted on playing in the ocean.

With all the bravery and determination only a four year old can muster, she psyched herself up.




With her jeans rolled up and an extra jumper added (standard beach attire in Ireland) she tentatively ventured in to the water.




This would be her back out of the water again, complaining about the fact that I really didn't make it clear enough, just how cold the water really is.






Unfortunately, I was the designated coat carrier and I left the photo taking up to the husband so they're few and far between. I do have some video though, and I'll get it up here at some stage.

We had a lovely day and Toots really enjoyed herself, playing in the water and climbing over the sand dunes.

We had an Irish picnic before heading home. For anyone who doesn't know an Irish picnic involves weighing everything down to stop it from blowing away and cooking on the ground, tucked in between the car and a hill to stop the flame on the stove from blowing out.

The husband and I sat at one of the picnic tables enjoying our lunch while Toots roughed it in the back seat of the car with her food and media player

Although in all fairness she was the only one out of the three of us with the brass neck to go in the water.

Twenty Minutes from Everywhere

Its how we can spend the morning at Nendrum Monastic Site in what feels like the back end of nowhere and the afternoon in Crawfordsburn County Park on the coast of the Ards Peninsula.

Its also the reason why I love living in Northern Ireland. I think its why almost everyone loves their life in Northern Ireland, because no matter where you live chances are you're roughly a twenty minute drive from everything you could ever need.

In twenty short minutes I can be spending time with family. I can be shopping and lunching and catching up with friends in the heart of the city. I can be at the beach. Actually I can be at any one of about a dozen beautiful beaches.

Or I can be at the top of a hill with nothing but farmland and tiny villages as far as the eye can see.

Hell, I can't even see my house from here...




We spent a lazy morning taking in the sights at Nendrum Monastery. I've visited the monastic site a few times but this was Toots' and the husband's first time. Of course, it didn't take her too long to start exploring.




And the "No Climbing" signs might just as well have been in a different language




I could spend hours walking around Nendrum alone. Those monks sure knew who to pick a location and even today the views are still beautiful.




For the life of me I couldn't get the whole monastery into one photograph. There simply isn't enough land in front of the building and while I love you all dearly I wasn't about to stand thigh deep in Strangford Lough for a good photo. Some people will, but not me.






It doesn't matter which old relic we visit or how many times we explain to Toots what the building is or what it was used for, as far as she is concerned it is a Castle.

Then she runs around trying to find dragons.

You thought I was going to say she runs around playing princess, didn't you?






Nope, no dragons here!





We had a lovely picnic at the lone picnic table near the visitor's centre before Toots started to show signs of complete and utter exhaustion. We climbed back into the car and a twenty minute nap in the back seat later we were at the coast.

A trip to the beach means one thing and one thing only to Toots.

Trying to bring Northern Ireland and Scotland and little bit closer to each other.

Yes, she spends every second at he beach throwing stones into the water.




It doesn't help that daddy encourages her to do. Even hand selecting the rocks for her.

She'll get there one day, I'm sure.

It doesn't matter that I've pointed out that a perfectly good boats goes back and forward countless times each day.

Lets see where I else I can drag the poor family over the holidays.

Because sometimes they need a little reminder

So its been a little monotonous around here for the past couple of weeks.

We get up, the hubs goes to work, I clean the house (somebody sneaks in every night and dirties all my dishes, I swear) and play with Toots or go out on a few errands, the hubs comes home, we eat, you get the idea.

Same ol, same ol day in day out.

Which is kind of fine for me and Toots because it provides a bit of structure to the day and I think a (almost) 4 year old still needs a fair bit of structure.

But for the poor husband ... not so much.

I want more for him. I want him to feel loved and appreciated. I want him to know that I still love him for all the reasons I loved him and married him fahumina years ago.

Now I know there are many ways to show him how much he means to me. There are plenty on the "kiss your husband everyday" bandwagon which is lovely, but I do that every single day, always have.

There are also plenty of posts encouraging us to sleep with our poor neglected husbands every night for a whole week (seriously, just the one). Again, a great idea, but my husband would probably just think I'd got into the cosmo again and he just happened to be lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time.

I tell him I love him all the time. I tell him every morning and every night. The thing is I also brush my teeth and moisturise every morning and every night so there's a fair wee chance he has it in his head that it's just part of my routine.

I could pay him more attention, cook him beautiful meals, basically I could hint to the fact that he's still very important to me, but really, come on now. If he was any good at picking up on subtle hints I wouldn't count a waffle iron and model Dodge Viper among my collection of birthday presents, would I?

Husband I love you dearly, but it really isn't the same thing. Nor was it a "bit of fun". It sits there, tucked in under bed mocking me. It goes, "na na na na naaaa" every bloody time I reach under there to retrieve a misplaced sock or the super duper bouncy ball you kindly gave the daughter.

The waffle iron does not mock. The waffle iron knows better. The waffle iron lives in fear of the day I may try to use its royal wafflyness. The waffle iron knows I could take it in a fight.

Anyway, yes, the poor neglected husband.

You need to tell them, sit them down, turn off the TV (you might want to switch off the computer, tweeting about the whole thing might take something away from moment) and tell them.

I did and he's been strutting around here like cock of the walk for the last few days. It really is an amazing transformation.

I asked him first, if he knew why I loved him and if he knew, I mean really knew, that I still love him and how much I appreciate him.

I told him how much he means to me. I told him that I love how confident he is, that he's always in complete control of every situation. He never second guesses himself, once he makes a decision (and let me tell you it only takes him milliseconds) he sticks with it and makes it work.

I love the way he carries himself, everyone assumes he's the boss (whereas his boss is a weedy little streak of a man with girlish hands, ahem).

I love that he is such a perfectionist. He always gets the job done and then some and it's perfect. I love that I asked him for a utensil rack which comfortably holds up two cast iron frying pans.

I spent a good hour telling him everything I love about him and I could have went on a lot longer.

Then you can kiss him or....whatever.

And you can tell him why you want to ... whatever... while you're at it (just don't mention if you did get into the cosmo again).

And it doesn't hurt to take a few seconds to cop a feel, every time he happens to pass by.

Because have I mentioned, he's walking around here like he's the King.

And he is.

Since Coming Out of Work

I've learnt a few very significant things...

1. I have absolutely no idea how I ever had the time to work full time outside of the house. I'm amazed I managed it without having a nervous breakdown.
   
   
2. I really enjoy being at home. I've definitely been a much better wife and mother since coming out of work.
   
   
3. Toots enjoys being at home with me a lot more. We've been working on the discipline (hers and mine) the last week and we're enjoying each other's company a hell of a lot more. She's snuggled up beside me as I write and she has a little smile on her face.
   
   
4. A husband, with a wife at home, who knows how to use power tools and isn't afraid to, is a very happy husband indeed. He arrived home yesterday afternoon, completely exhausted after a very hard day and was planning on getting stuck into some jobs he felt needed done. He wanted to mow the lawn because it has been dry for a few days. He also wanted to put up the hooks on the back of the larder door for coats and other bits and pieces, plus a vent needed to be installed on the outside of the house to cover an air intake which is no longer in use.
   
   He hadn't noticed before that I'd already done all those things, plus a few others he had forgotten about over the last few days. Needless to say he was a very happy man. He was able to sit down and relax with a meal and his family and then spend the rest of the night winding down.
   
   
5. Being at home during the week, means that I can stay on top of all those little things which used to interfere with our weekend, grocery shopping, fish tank water changes, car washing and just the general cleaning and tidying which I would normally have done every weekend. All these things I now do during the week leaving all of us to truly enjoy our weekends, whether its a day out to the forest or the beach (still wrapped up warm though, we don't live in the tropics) or even just going out for a walk or spending time at home together.
   
   
6. We're eating a lot better than we did. When I worked full time I tried OAMC which sacrifices freshness and I always prefer fresh. I would end up coming in every evening and preparing something quickly. I still tried to cook from scratch which means having to buy better cuts of meat which can stand up to quick cooking but also cost a fortune and are usually lacking in taste. Now we have a good meal everyday, Toots is really enjoying her lunches because she decides (to a certain extent) what to make and she helps me to prepare the food, plus the husband is enjoying the variety of lunches he gets sent to work with along with the baked goods. We eat a lot more fresh vegetables and fruit because I always have time and I'm not to tired to run to the market at 6.30am on a Saturday morning and I'm really starting to feel the benefit of eating all this fresh food.
   
   
7. The garden is better organised this year. I already have all the plots of land cleared and have some of the earlier seeds in the ground and they're sprouting already. Last year we were all good intentions but wound up making a bit of pigs ear of things, planting seeds when WE had the time rather than at the right time, forgetting to water during the summer months and not picking the few things that did grow when they were at their best.
   

I could go on about this for hours, but I won't bend your ear for that long. If you stay at home, do you enjoy it? What are some of your favourite things about being at home? And if you work outside the house, how do you make it work for you?

And the "Crap Mummy" Award goes to......ME

I should probably clarify right at the outset that I don't think I'm a "Bad Mum". When I hear that term I always think of someone who is abusive or neglectful of their child and I am neither of those things.

What I mean by being a crap mummy is that I'm trying my very best and in my opinion, failing really rather miserably.

My daughter hates me.

Allow me to explain.

In September last year we received notification that Toots' daycare fees would almost double the following month. We tried through October and November to keep up with the payments.

I won't lie, we were more than a bit disgusted at paying so much money for daycare, but at the same time we were afraid of the effect taking Toots out of regular daycare and away from her friends and routine would have, especially since she only had to go one more year in full time care. So we tried.

In November the husband's job changed quite a bit, he was working further away from home and I was having to commute back and forward to work as well as drop Toots off and pick her up from daycare. The cost of this together with her daycare meant that I was spending more money than I earned every month. Something had to give and it did.

On 1 December I handed my notice in. My last day would be 31 December and Toots last day in daycare would be 23 December. To give you some idea had I let her continue in daycare until 31 December (bearing in mind that it would be closed most of the days between 23 Dec and 31 Dec for holidays) the fees for the month would have been £980.

Since then it feels like things have gone from bad to worse. I apologise if I come off as a gurn when so many people are in worse positions than I am.

Every day here has become a battle ground, even over the smallest things.

Toots has pretty much refused to eat every meal I've made since she came out of daycare. Most of the time I have to resort to some novelty, her current favorite is cutting her food up into cubes and then eating it with a cocktail stick and calling it a party.

She ignores me when I speak to her, making me call her name countless times before finally looking at me.

Getting dressed is a 45 minute fight. This morning once I'd finally managed to get some clothes on her, I went to quickly grab her coat and scarf. I came back to find a pile of clothes on the floor and no child to be found anywhere. Where was she hiding? Behind the curtain with her bare bum pressed up against the window for the entire school drop off outside to see.

She's lashed out at me a couple of times and defies me at every opportunity.

I'm worried in case she starts to develop problems once she starts school. She can't just say she doesn't want to in school and get away with it.

Truth be told I am letting her away with too much. Sometimes, I just get so tired its easier to let her play in the nip rather than making her keep her clothes on. Last week my record fail was letting her eat Pringles for breakfast one morning.

She tells me she loves me all the time, but I can't help but think that she's angry at me for taking her away from her friends and she's just acting out in the only way she knows how.

Sometimes I just wish I'd tried to find a couple of extra jobs and worked nights to earn the extra money and keep her in daycare.

I'd probably only see her for a grand total of 20 minutes a day, but something about the way she looks at me makes me think she'd be happier with that.

My Man

Sometimes it seems you were born by design, for you are everything I could hope for in a friend. My friend, my best friend for over 12 years now, my husband for the better part of 7.

Sometimes I feel I've know you all my life, the years before are little more than a blur.

I love everything about you.

I love that you love me.

I love that you gave me my daughter, a child more precious and beautiful than we could ever have imagined.

I love that together we laugh at the world, regardless of what it has thrown at us over the years and the world has thrown a lot.

I love that you can deal with my head and some of the very dark thoughts in there.

I love that I no longer have a "backup plan". You always knew about this and you helped me see that not all men are alike. You helped me to trust and rely on someone other than myself.

I love that you let me be weak ... and tell nobody of this.

I love your eyes, as dark as night, and that you gave them to our daughter, except for their heart. The heart is mine and the brightest blue.

I love that when you concentrate on something you stick your tongue out of the corner of your mouth and bite it. Toots does the same.

I love that even when I'm completely skanked out you still tell me I'm beautiful.

I love that you never automatically take my side in an argument just because I'm your wife. If I want to pick a fight I should be able to hold my own.

I love that you still roll over in the morning and say "Morning Wife", like its all still new.

I love your arms, for obvious reasons.

I love that you say you look like a hippy if your hair is more than an inch long and that you weren't vain enough to run for the Grecian when the ratio finally shifted to more salt than pepper.

I love that when I'm getting ready for bed at night you still say "ooh boobs" like a schoolboy.

You're by no means perfect, but I love that too. I can't stand perfection and you know this. You know about the secret pleasure I get from breaking the spine on a new book.

I love that we can laugh at each other's mistakes and not take it personally, its just a bit of fun and that's how we are.

I love that you still don't know how to work the media player and I do because you couldn't take it to the bathroom with you.

I love that even in spite of this you still refuse to read the instruction manual.

You make me laugh every single day.

You are very, very important to me.

People say you can choose your friends but you can't choose your family. They are wrong. I chose both.

I love that you love me...

My husband, my love, my strength, my backbone and my friend. I will love you always.

In honour of all the husbands who stand by us and put up with us Kristen of We are that Family is hosting a little get together. If you'd like to take part or just fancy reading more like this, head over to Kristen's S.W.A.K Valentine Carnival

Brotherly Love

I just had to share with you the lovely birthday card I received from my brother yesterday.

Adorned with little handbags, either he knows me very well or...

mum bought it.

The inscription was also heartwarming and very well thought out. He mus have agonised for hours over the exact words to use. The words which would best describe the love he has for his only sister on her birthday.


Thanks our kid. I'll add it to the card collection and cherish it forever.

Your loving sister.

LEANNE

The Wedding

I've decided to join in with the carnival being held by Kara-Noel of Eli's Lids. All she asks is that we Remember When....we got married. I noticed Janmary of Welcome to my World joining in and never being one to miss a boat, thought it would be the perfect way to post my (admittedly small amount) of wedding photos. Its such a fun idea for a carnival and her photographs are beautiful. Go on, join in...

There I go again jumping straight to the honeymoon and completely forgetting about the wedding.

Ok, time for a bit of background.

The husband and I were desperately hunting for a home together. We had managed to sell his house in Belfast. We had a bank account full of money but still didn't seem to be having any luck finding a house we both liked and could agree on.

We were engaged at the time but hadn't quite gotten around to planning a wedding. Or setting a date for that matter.

We finally found this house and immediately fell in love with the place, even though it was literally falling apart.

Because we got such a great price on the house and didn't need to borrow anywhere near the amount of money we had original thought we would, we decided to celebrate with a big holiday before settling down to the grind of getting the house livable.

Cut to the scene of us in Lunn Poly handing over vast quantities of cash for the trip to Egypt. We'd chosen two of the best hotels, upgraded the flights, you name it, we were going all out. This was to be our last trip for a very long time. When the travel assistant noticed my engagement ring and mentioned before processing the payment and booking that if the holiday was a honeymoon we would get all the upgrades we were paying for free, plus some extra upgrades not available for booking.

"Oh, alright then, go on".

I arrived home later that day, phoned the registry office, popped down to fill in the paperwork and pay the £35 fee and hey presto we were to be married six weeks later.

Here we are signing the registry book.



As I've said it was a very simple (slightly rushed) affair. Just some close family and a disposable camera. Neither one of use thought to lift the digital camera on the way out the door that morning. I'm not sure if anyone is familiar with registry office weddings but there really are only a few minutes spare for photographs before the next couple are ushered in.

You'll have to excuse my very lacking skills at taking photographs of photographs, but this is my mother. Isn't she beautiful. I hope I look like her when I grow up.




We had time for a quick photo of everyone and it shows just how small the wedding party actually was.

From left to right, my mum's sisters (and two of my best friends), my (very tall) brother, my grandfather (my mum's father and the constant in my life), my mum, yours truly, the husband's brother and father, the husband and last but definitely not least, my dad.

And finally a photograph, I'll always cherish. My Gana Joe in the far left, seemingly minding his own business, quietly assessing this new family his first born granddaughter has married into. It was a very classic pose of his, hand on his chin with a slight smirk on his face. His health started to go about a year after this photo was taken and he passed away two years ago after a long battle.

This is how I'll always remember him.



After the wedding we had a lovely lunch and then went home to get changed and go to collect our currency for the honeymoon.

See nothing fancy, but that's just me I suppose.

The only thing I regret about the honeymoon is not doing it sooner. My Mother-in-Law passed away six months before we were married and I would have loved to have had her there. She was a wonderful woman.

The carnival runs until the end of this week, so go on, quickly, hurry up and join in.

WFMW - Oh yes I did.

It's that time of the week again and you'll be sooo pleased you stopped by.

Oh yes, its also that time of year again.

Yep, I'm planning for Christmas.

Wait, wait, don't be running away just yet. There's a perfectly good reason for planning so far ahead.

Seriously, I don't know about anybody else, but Christmas here just wasn't the same this year. I'm sure its been very difficult for everyone this year and I personally know a lot of people (myself included) starting 2009 unemployed or facing the real prospect of redundancy.

So with that in mind (and in part to take my mind off it) I'm planning really far ahead for the holidays this year. All holidays and birthdays in general but mainly Christmas.

I'm determined this year will be completely a "make your own" year. No presents will be bought ready to give, no ready made bread, biccies or buns. If I can't make it, you won't get it here.

So, the first step is to organise the knitted and hand sewn projects.

I grab the hold of my handy little A5 binder (I've carried this around with me for about 2 years now, couldn't be without it) and add another section.


Next I need to have a look through my ever expanding pattern books. I have three like this with around 80 patterns in each and four lever arch files which I need to get around to sorting into books like these. So much more space efficient. You'll notice straight away they aren't sorted into sections. That's because I like to just ramble through them to pass time.


My mum will love this bag. A new bag is her first request for every birthday and Christmas, although she wouldn't be too keen on the colour. She prefers bright colours, even in the dead of winter. So...


My mum is #1. I'll pop a little sticker on each pattern for her with a #1 written on it and pop in a list to remind me which yarn I will use.

Then back to the book and make a list detailing each gift for each person along with supplies needed to complete the project. If I have highlighted the item, I already have the supplies in my (huge) stash. Bonus.


And lastly I need an easy shopping list to carry around with me.

I never leave home without my phone and even though its quite old now I can still open a new reminder in my calender and pop in an abbreviated list and set it to recur weekly. This way I can keep a quick track of anything I've still to pick up if I spot a good sale.

So there you go. Is anyone else mad enough to prepare for Christmas in January?

For some, perhaps more sensible, tips, tricks and ideas, head over to WFMW at Rocks in my Dryer.

The post where I just empty my head as quickly as possible and hit publish.

Hi remember me. I've been here before but not in a while.

I'm trying to get everything sorted out and unfortunately this and a couple of other things were pushed to the back burner.

I'm getting really excited now about coming out of work and I just want the next month over and done with. Talk about wishing your life away.

I've had a few days off work and for some reason I've managed to wind up with even less time to get anything done. I just couldn't get past the novelty of being able to spend all day with Toots and not have to worry about being anywhere or being late for anything.

We got up in the mornings and had a lovely cooked breakfast, something normally unheard of on a weekday morning. Normally, Toots has breakfast in daycare and me and the husband share a thermos cup of coffee on the way to work and he has a lunchbox full of cereal and a carton of milk chucked into his bag before we leave the house.

Then we lit the fire (its been 1 - 3C here the last couple of days) and cuddled up in front of it for a couple of hours before making any plans for the day.

We did manage to pinch our car back from my mum (her car is stuck in the garage because of dirty diesel) on Friday so that we could go to the Continental Market in Belfast and we had a great day. We stuffed ourselves with bratwurst, churros, hot chocolate, dutch pancakes, stroopwaffles, Turkish delight and red licorice. Toots got to see Santa (photo to come later) and we both had two rides on the merry-go-round.

We went to the Disney Store (which had obviously had an attack of the "crap we haven't sold anything in monthsitis") and a 'Cast Member' was running around the store frantically slapping discount stickers on everything. Brilliant.

Then we went to Hamleys, a lovely toy shop by the way just in case anyone happens to be passing one, it's the first toy shop I've been into in years without turning into a Potential Murder Suspect. Hamley's Santa wasn't going to be there until 3.30pm and we were far too early but they had an entire display of those little animals, you know the ones, like puppies and bunny rabbits and they stop and make noises and wrinkle their noses or waggle their ears and then scurry off for another few steps before stopping to do it all again, and they were all switched on. There were rabbits, and dogs and cats and giraffes and pigs and a drummer bear and either a hippo or a rhino running all over the place.

Toots had a field day running round after them and turning them over to switch them off. Some of the other kids weren't happy, but hey.

Also they had a full size stuffed lion. Only £300. Bargain if you ask me. Although, I think if I was going to blow £300 on a stuffed toy (and why the hell wouldn't I, I hear you ask) it would have to be Koda the Triceratops. At least for 300 notes that thing bobs it's head and burps. Oh and you get free leaf with it.

We bought an Etch a Sketch. I didn't know they still made those, and they still look exactly the same as they did when I was a kid as well. Not like Mr Potato Head, he's went all big soft parts, and child safe.

Anyhoo, I should go, because I should probably wash and find clothes if a plan on going back to work tomorrow.