Because secretaries are rarely given 'garden leave'

It’s always been the same for me.

Whether I move house, move away from an area, grow apart from someone or, in this case, leave work, I always find myself focusing on the negative.

And let me tell you at the minute, work gets a huge thumbs down. Everything is getting on my nerves and at times it feels like some people are purposely going out of their way to wind me up.

The worst thing about this scenario is that my supervisor has talked me into keeping schtum about the fact that I’m leaving. She doesn’t want anyone giving me a hard time about it or trying to come up with (completely unhelpful) solutions to my situation. And they would, I know they would. I would do the same thing so I can understand why she wants me to keep it to myself.

So on 1 December 2008, I’ll hand in my notice and my last day will be 31 December 2008. I had originally booked this day off as part of my leave but decided last week to work it and allow one of the other girls have the day off instead (because I’m nice like that).

But still now I’m stuck in the position of trying to keep up appearances, smile brightly at all the things and people annoying me. It isn’t their fault. Obviously, I’m just annoyed at the fact that now I’ve decided to stay at home with Toots, it’s the only thing in the world that I want to do. I can’t wait but I have to stay here…for two more months, when I’d rather be at home.

So I’m annoyed.

Everything’s annoying me.

Now all I have to do is keep calm and try not to yell “screw you I’m leaving anyway” after a bad day. Childish? Yes. Enjoyable? Absolutely.

Does anybody have a good mantra to stop me from going off on one?

T minus 10

Its ten weeks to Christmas. Why did nobody you tell me? The Christmas Plan went a bit skew whiff.

It’s looking like this will be my last Christmas as a working mum. Woohoo, bring it on. But this does mean that I’m going to have to start being really organised for Christmas. And I mean really, properly, grown up style organised. Not just sitting down at some point in September and making a handful of lists which I either never refer back to or I manage to convince myself that I’ve all the time in the world and still do nothing about the lists.

I’ve been a little better this year because I decided very early on that I would make all the presents I will be giving this year. I normally make some, but over the last few years I’ve noticed that the handmade gifts go down a whole lot better than the shop bought ones, so handmade for all.

I actually checked one of my lists a few nights ago and realised that I still have to knit, one glove, six hats, a hooded scarf, two washcloths and I need to finish a baby blanket all before Christmas (Eek). So I’ve started to knit in the car on the way to and from work. Hopefully this should fix that problem.

This still leaves the issue of baked goods for Christmas presents.

I had thought of giving gifts in a jar to some of my aunts with younger children, but changed my mind because I could well imagine Toots opening a jar containing brownie mix on Christmas morning and immediately wanting to make them even though every oven and burner in my house is filled to capacity and then crying her little heart out and ruining Christmas. Alright, that’s probably a worst case scenario, but still it could happen.

So I’ll be making all the gifts up in full since I have a couple of days off work right before Christmas.

I checked my freezer stash of things I’ve been putting aside for Christmas. Apparently, I either dreamt that I’d put away more things, or I’ve been dipping into the stash without realising it. I had 3lbs of frozen butter and slightly less than 1lb of frozen cream cheese (which actually still works quite well when you beat the living daylights out of it for frosting).

I did my monthly shop at the weekend and Asda had Dromona butter on rollback to £1 for a 1lb block. So I bought eight. Don’t worry, they’ll get used.

I also have around two dozen eggs frozen from an offer at the beginning of the month. For some reason they seem to freeze and defrost a lot better if they’re separated into whites and yolks and then frozen in twos.

But still, normally by now, I’d have already planned what I’m cooking on Christmas day and I haven’t. This means that normally I have my shopping list made and I can start to buy freezable things when I see them on offer, but I haven’t.

Normally, I’ve at least started to buy extra chocolate and peanut butter and pecans for all the cookies which I will make and freeze ahead of time so that I just have to bake when people are coming. But that isn’t done either.

So basically, if I’m completely honest, my plan just didn’t work this year. I didn’t stick to it, I thought I had more time than I actually did and I got sidetracked again and again.

What I need is some help. Do you have any great simple recipes which don’t need a 1001 ingredients, or a way to better organise yourself (bearing in mind that I haven’t been able to get my head round the home management folder yet, so I’m not that bright). What about a pattern for a one hour beanie hat, do you have that, can you point me in the right direction.

I’d appreciate it. A lot. Thanks.

Not technically a true WFMW, although the egg thing kid of qualifies as a tip. For some more ideas from properly grown up organised people head over to Rocks in my Dryer.

Dislocation, Doctors and a Helluva Runny Nose

I have had a day.

A helluva day.

And it all started out so well too.

Toot's spent the night at Nana's after her return from holiday. I had a lovely long lie in. OK, it was only until 8.00am, but I'll take what I can get.

I spent a very pleasant (free) hour on the phone with my mum chittering about my impending SAHM membership.

Then of course the not so pleasant things like cleaning and ironing and what not. All the things which have really fallen by the wayside the last week or so.

11.00am and mum's on the phone.

Toot's was playing with my brother and he was holding her hands and spinning her around. When he put her back on the floor again, she carried right on spinning and twisted her elbow and immediately the entire house exploded due to the incredibly loud screaming coming from the very small child now crying her eyes, clutching her arm in the middle of the room.

Mum put her in the car, came straight to my house and we all headed off for a day in the A&E room, our very first (and I wouldn't bet last) day in the A&E room. Of course, I had an entire bag packed full of toys and drinks and sweets and chocolate. All the really lovely stuff you feed your kids in vast quantities when thy aren't well, or you're feeling guilty about something. I figured we would probably be there for the better part of the day, what with it being a Sunday and all.

I checked her in at the reception and turned to look at mum, carrying toots. Her bum had barely grazed the seat when the triage nurse called us into her office. She cooed over her lovely hair and her pretty smile and gave her some ibuprofen for the obvious pain she was in and then straight away went to get the consultant to have a look and provide a referral. As far as I'm aware the normal course of action is triage, three hour wait, consultant, but hey I'm not complaining.

The consultant took a look, scribbled on a sheet of paper and sent us straight over to the x-ray department, where again my little queue jumper daughter was taken first.

It was awful. The single worst experience in my life. She screamed the place down. She told me it was sore. She told me she didn't like me anymore, that she wanted her nana instead. My heart literally broke in two watching this little quivering, red in the face, pile of curly hair. By this time her entire face was completely covered in tears and boogers and she was FURIOUS that the one thing I hadn't thought to bring was a tissue. Not that she would have let me near her with it anyway.

Four x-rays later and we were handed another scribbled on sheet of paper and sent back to the triage nurse who ushered us into the waiting consultant's office, again ahead of a line of people who were now starting to get a slightly murderous look in their eye.

The consultant explained that her arm wasn't in fact broken as feared and that she merely had a pulled elbow. Very common apparently. And that he'd just pop it back in again.

Quick look around, nope, no sign of anything to knock the kid out with. Considering I'd just endured hell in the x-ray department just trying to get her to move her arm away from her body, I could tell this was not going to go well.

The doctor started to explain all the ins and outs, only half of which I heard. He said that most of the time the elbow pops back in again and in ten minutes it'll be like nothing had ever happened and she'd be right as rain. But. Very occasionally the arm doesn't go back in, in which case toots would have to wear a cast for a week and return five days later for another go.

Have I mentioned I've had a run of bad luck lately.

The consultant wheeled his little stool over, I covered her eyes. My mum burst into tears. Of course, I was already crying like a recently dumped 12 year. The consultant grabbed her arm, she screamed like a banshee, he let go and said "well that should do it".

I swear I've heard plumbers say the exact same thing and they were wrong. I was dubious. To say the least.

We were sent back to the waiting room, both me and my mum in desperate need of an extreme makeover and toots strangely relaxed looking.

We sat down and she starting pointing and shouting about all the really cool vending machines in the waiting room.

Still it didn't register with us two dimwits that this meant her arm was fine. We sat on.

She was waving at people and playing with a dolly I had brought from home.

Still the penny didn't drop.

Fifteen minutes later the consultant reappears and pronounces her to perfectly fine now, we can go home.

A full ten minutes later, having watched her like a hawk, convinced her elbow was just going to fall back out again we went home.

So she's fine, in bed sleeping in fact. She hasn't mentioned it all day either.

It turns out all in told we were only a the hospital for a little under two hours.

So why did it feel like a lifetime?

And why am I still knackered?

WFMW - Vinegar

I recently paid a visit to Makro and managed to pick up 5ltr jugs of white vinegar for £2.00.

Unfortunately I went a bit over the top and bought 4 jugs of the stuff and I seem to have spent the last couple of weeks moving a jug from one end of the kitchen to the other and the husband trips over the other 3 every time he sets foot in the garage.

When I bought the stuff I was convinced there were hundreds of different things I could use vinegar for but now when I lift the jug and I'm faced with making cleaning solution and what not, my mind goes completely blank and I end up setting it back down again without actually using it.

So I'll add some of the uses I have for white vinegar here, while the brain is functioning and hopefully these ideas might be useful to someone else (and maybe they'll motivate me to make some).

And if you know anything else I can use this stuff for, please let me know in the comments. My husband's shins thank you.

1/4 cup added to a load of laundry will keep whites whiter, brighten colours and soften the load without adding any conditioner.

A little added to rinse water stops glassware from spotting.

Use it to clean smears from eye glasses.

Use it to wipe down shower walls and doors to remove soap scum.

Use it to remove old wood glue (hey, I did learn something in CDT).

Vinegar dissolves chewing gum.

Rub wooden chopping boards with baking soda and then spray with undiluted vinegar, leave for a couple of minutes and rinse with warm water to disinfect the board.

Soak a small cloth in a solution of 1/2 liquid soap, cup vinegar and 2 cups of water, wring out the cloth and keep in an airtight container to remove fingerprints and sticky marks from windows without having to do a full clean and without leaving streaks.

I use 1 tsp liquid soap, 1/2 cup white vinegar and 3 cups of water in a spray bottle for everyday cleaning in the kitchen and bathroom.

For more great WFMW posts head back to Shannon at Rocks in my Dryer.

Run it up the flagppole, see if it flies

First of all I just want to say a big thank you to Janmary, Steph at Problem Solvin Mom, and Annie Jones for their comments, kind words and hugs on this post.

One thing that has really surprised me since starting this blog (of sorts) is how much it actually matters and helps that someone, either close to home or on the other side of the world will take the time out of their day, and lets be honest, they're pretty busy days, to stop by to tell you "D'ya know, it'll be alright. You'll figure something out".

I had begun to think I was getting myself in a flap over nothing, obviously I'm the only woman struggling to keep her daughter in good, registered daycare instead of leaving her with just anyone, but it seems none of the other moms dropping their kids off in the morning have batted so much as an eyelid.

I don't imagine I'm the only one in financial diffs as the minute. I was starting to think that asking for an extra £50 a week was nothing, I'm just getting my knickers in a twist. But now people agree with me (not just my mommy, that's her job), it is a large increase and I do have something to worry about and a lot of things to think about.

Perhaps all those other moms are secretly having a fit and I just need to practice my "brace face".

I've wracked my brains all weekend and I've eaten a hell of a lot of chocolate.

Incidentally, can anyone explain to my why when I eat a 57g bar of Galaxy I gain 3lbs. Mystery?

Anyway, brains well and truly wracked and I think I've come up with a solution.

When I spoke to my Office Manager on Friday about this (completely in confidence, she's absolutely lovely, trust I've worked for some completely hateful people over the years), she asked if there was any possibility of me working from home.

Just like that, almost like "it's completely up to you, whatever suits sweetie".

Well, after I picked my jaw up off the floor, I quickly said that I didn't think I could. A lot of my work requires me to be in the office at my desk. Most of it is prep work for court dates, preparing court documents, that kind of thing. Well it turns out I think I may have answered a little too quickly.

You see a lot of that stuff is quite, well, it's boring, so I imagined that I was spending more time on it than I actually was, in truth these things probably amount to around a third of my day. I spent the weekend making lists of absolutely everything I do and *eureka and happy days* at least half of it on an average week I could quite easily do at home.

I work in a very up to date office. All dictations and instructions are digital and most correspondence and documentation leaves the office in email format, so I can actually work online anywhere as though I'm sitting at my own desk.

So now the plan is to work at home two days a week, a Monday and a Wednesday, that way my fee earner doesn't have to do without my presence for more than a day. I'll stay at home on Monday because the woman who works part time is in on a Monday so there'll be a fuller quota of people in the building and a Wednesday because most of the stuff I do that I need to be in the office for is in preparation for the following week so it makes more sense to be there for a block of two days at the end of the week.

This means that I can reduce Toot's hours in daycare to three full days, thereby reducing the cost from £170.00 per week to £105.00

Now all I have to do is sell it to the boss. Hah, small pastry items, easy peasy.

Or does this just sound like a brilliant idea in my own head, because I'm....you know......still freaking out.

Let me know, please, is it actually possible to work at home with small children around?

I've tried the timer trick when I'm busy around the house, of setting a timer for 20 minutes and once the buzzer goes, she gets 20 minutes to talk non-stop and so on and so forth, she kind of gets the idea, but it's a definite learning curve.

Husband for sale, one good owner, full service history included

Do you remember the good old days, like Wednesday?

Wednesday was a lovely day.

Wednesday, I knew where I was going and what I was doing. I had a routine, sure it wasn't a great routine, but it worked for me.

Get up, get dressed, dress kid, drop her at nursery, go to work, come home from work, pick her up from nursery, go home, cook, clean, chill, sleep, wash rinse and repeat.

However, yesterday was a little different, it went, the usual, the usual, the usual, come home from work, pick up the child from nursery, get mugged, go home, freak out........etc.

Now if you ever think about getting mugged, you imagine some shifty looking bloke, probably lurking in dark corners just waiting for you.

It shouldn't come in the form of a relatively innocuous looking sheet of paper containing the emblem of your daughter's nursery and the words........."continually increasing overheads"............."necessary price increase"............."from £120.00 per week to £170.00 per week"........WTF?

Can you wait whilst I pluck £50 notes from thin air, this might take a while, pull up a chair.

Financially we're stretched to our limit as it is and I just can't think of any possible way to afford anywhere between £200 and £250 extra a month. I've been over a thousand different possibilities in my head between last night and this morning and I keep coming back to a single realisation.

I'll have to come out of work.

But can I afford to come out of work?

Can I actually manage to do a good job of looking after my daughter full time, or will I make a complete pigs ear of it?

I just feel like I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. It's blatantly obvious I can't afford the new fees, but at the same time can we actually get by without the extra £300 a month I'm left with after the current fees are paid?

I could try to get a part time job in the evening or at night, but they're so few and far between at the minute and I see little enough of the kid as it is. Do I really want her thinking of mommy as the voice that tells her goodnight over the phone?

I could sell or rent the hubby. He's very good for garden work.

It would be so easy to just stick my head in the sand and hope everything will just work itself out. Maybe the bank manager won't mind my account dropping into the red by £250 every month.

I wish it was Wednesday again.

WFMW - Dustpan and Brush

This week's Works for Me Wednesday is a themed edition on Kitchen Management Tips (excuse me while I actually laugh out loud).

Now I don't have too many kitchen management tips. Usually chaos reigns supreme in my kitchen and somehow things just manage to happen, but one thing that definitely does work for me is a small dustpan and brush.

When we first bought the house, the kitchen consisted of a sink (without a base unit underneath) and the taps had been tied to a hook which had been hammered into the wall to stop the entire sink from falling forward onto the floor (lovely, no?) and a monster of an old fashioned wall unit which had been attached to the wall with hilty nails and both myself and Himself could happily swing from it without any fear of it coming off the wall (great fun to be had).

So when the time came to choose and install our new kitchen I went for the extra wide worktop as this allowed me to keep all my junk equipment out on the counter and still have the full width of a regular counter.

Great idea in theory, but I'm a really messy cook and manage to get crumbs and flour and...well, everything all over the counter.

Sweeping all the debris off the counter with a cloth into the palm of my waiting hand (in true mommy fashion) never worked. I wound up with crumbs and flour all over my clothes from leaning across the counter and most of the stuff I wiped off wound up on the floor, so then I had to brush the floor as well.

So enter the ickle dustpan and brush, which hangs there at the end of the counter, minding it's own business until it's called into action. I use it to sweep down my counter tops and also to sweep my larder shelves before giving them a quick once over with a sponge every now and then and it works great.

For more great kitchen management tips head back to Shannon at Rocks in my Dryer.

And to hell with work, I'll be spending the rest of the day there myself to see if I can't put an end to the madness that is my house kitchen.

And these kids are supposed to be educated?

This leaves a really bad taste in my mouth. In fact, I'm absolutely disgusted by it.

These kids are supposed to be educated. The kind of kids who get to look down on the likes of me because as soon as I had the opportunity to leave school, get a job and help my mum support us, I did. Imagine my cheek.

Some of these kids are eventually going to leave university with the qualifications to put them in positions that matter, positions where they'll be relied upon to use their tiny, backwards little minds to make decisions.

And apparently some of them think it's perfectly acceptable to become rapists and beat women, but obviously only if "she was asking for it".

Personally, I think they should be kicked out of the school. If they already think like the dregs of society then they should never be in a position to become anything more than that.

What galls me is that some idiot thinks that the best way to tackle this problem is a poster leaflet and drinks mat campaign.

Yeah, cause the absolute best time to tell a guy not to go home and beat his girlfriend or that the girl he's gripping by the arm and trying to pull out of the bar, actually means "NO", is when he's shit faced on cheap booze in the Student's Union. Good luck with that one, sure let me know how it goes.

Dinosaurs and My Kid Rocks

A typical morning. I'm semi-organised, I've the lunches made the clothes laid out but we're still running around like headless chickens trying to get out the door.

As we're just about to walk out, me laden down with bags and about to set the alarm, Toots asks if she can take her own breakfast to nursery. I can see the look in her eye which clearly states "I will pitch a hissy if I don't get my way" and figuring it's only a bag of cereal I ask her to go and pick something so we can get going. I drop all the bags, run into the kitchen, grab and baggy and drop her selection into said bag, before lifting all the bags again, child under arm and out the door.

In the car on the way to nursery I can see her fiddling with the bag in the back of the car and at that stage I realise it's a bag of mini shredded wheat, Honey NUT mini shredded wheat.

Crap.

There's a boy in her age group in nursery with a nut allergy.

Crap.

I'm going to get lynched for this as soon as they see what's in the bag.

Once we got inside I thought I'd quietly check to see if he was in nursery today. Maybe he's off and there won't be a problem, just this once. Nope, he's here.

Crap.

I can see Toots, smiling away, telling her friends she's brought her own breakfast this morning and I'm going to have to take it away from her. So I sit her down on my knee and explain that her cereal has nuts and that it could make her friend very ill.

"Very ill" she asks

"Hospital ill" I say.

"OK, well I don't like nuts if they're going to make friend sick, you take them and tell Daddy he has to have them for breakfast".

Such an understanding child for all the age of her, don't you think. No hissy fit, no crying, not even a lip tremble. I was so proud of her.

So Himself's off to work today with mini Honey Nut Shredded Wheat for his breakfast. In a Baco Rainbow dinosaur bag.

Cause dinosaurs ROCK too.

Sparkes and Midnight Zoo Heist

Toot’s isn’t a girly girl. She loves to climb, play in the dirt and she’ll happily pick up any bug/spider/slug/worm that happens to be unlucky enough to cross her path.

It’ll be Halloween on 31 October and I normally like to make toot’s costume for her Halloween party in day care and the small party we have at home for the little uns.

We were in the garden, pulling weeds and getting rid of all the spent vegetable plants, properly mucked up t the eyeballs and I decided to bring up the subject of dressing up to get some ideas (last year she was an octopus).

Me: So Kiddo, Halloween next month?

Toots: Yep.

Me: Any idea what you fancy dressing up as?

Toots: Yep (???)

Me: Well……..?

Toots: I want to be a princess (I beg your pardon), a green princess (a bit more like her), with a crown (holds hand about eight inches above her head) not a hat, with a wand and wings. Big wings not those tiny ones. And …… can it be sparkly.
Me: (Getting back up off the ground after being knocked over with a feather). You want to be a princess.

Toots: A green princess with a crown and a wand and…..

Me: Aha, a princess. (Quick someone call the police somebody’s stolen my daughter and replaced her with a girl).

Toots: Or a Power Ranger, a Jungle Fury Power Ranger and a LION. Can I have a lion, mommy?

Me: We’ll see darling.

Thank frick for that, because I hadn’t a notion how to make a green sparkly princess costume with a crown, not a hat and a wand and wings

I think her costume may have to be a surprise from now on.

Coca Cola - because I burn food

It's an average day.

You're in the kitchen cooking, kids on around your feet, your husband can't find a jacket, cause the wardrobe would be far too sensible a place to look and you're not paying attention.

Suddenly you smell burning and realise in the middle of everything your pan of porridge/rice/stew has burnt solid to the bottom of the pot. You scrape and scrape but it's burnt and black and smells revolting.

Now you could fill the sink, whip out the cleaner and scourer and start scrubbing, but you'll probably wind up giving up half an hour later with sore, wrinkled hands and a pan that looks as bad coming out of the water as it did going in. It's beyond rescue.

You could also just chuck the pan out and buy a new one or make do without, cause you have more.

A far easier and cheaper way to clean it, is to pour in enough Coke to cover the burnt parts and simmer over a low heat for about 15 minutes and just watch all the black yuck float off the bottom of the pan. You may have to rinse and repeat once or twice but it's still a hell of a lot easier than trying to clean it the other way.

This is what works for me and for more WFMW ideas visit Shannon at Rocks in my Dryer.

Sweet Chilli and Pepper Salsa

This recipe has been taken from The Naked Chef by Jamie Oliver. It's one of my favourites and it just reminds me of Summer, even on those cold drizzly wet days.

2 roasted red peppers (from a jar)
1/2 red onion
4 large red chillis
1/2 clove garlic
8 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
a bunch of parsley
a bunch of basil
salt and pepper.

The recipe calls for all these ingredients to be finely chopped, mixed together, seasoned and left for hour before serving. Usually I throw all the ingredients except the peppers in a blender and pulse until finely chopped and then add the peppers and give it oe more quick pulse. I've eaten it straight away and it's lovely although it is far better if it gets an hour to rest before serving.

Serve with chips, thinly sliced bread, celery (if you're that way inclined) or anything you fancy.

And for more great game day recipes visit Jenn over at Frugal Upstate.

Redundancy Situation

Something appears to be wrong.

My purse doesn't appear to be functioning correctly.

Is it not my purse's sole function in life to contain money?

There is no money in my purse.

My purse has failed at it's one job in life.

Stupid purse.

Duck and Cover - Toddler Explosion

Not a happy bunny at the thought of leaving the park, even with the prospect of ice cream.

Still she laughed when she saw the video.

Not my 100th post

This is not my 100th post but I’m going to shamelessly pilfer the idea from almost every blog I’ve read and give you 100 facts about me…whether you want them or not.

1. I’ve been bitten by a dog twice, but still love them.

2. I’ve been bitten by a cat once and now I stay well clear.

3. I once accidentally ran through a plate glass door.

4. I skipped the first two months of my second to last year of school.

5. I got caught and my mum gave me the look, which as a mother I would love to have mastered by now, but haven’t.

6. I once ran away from home. I lasted two weeks but called my mum everyday.

7. I fell into a skip (big dumpster with a low side for wheelbarrow access) when I was 14 because I was too busy looking at a boy.

8. I am an occasional smoker and by that I mean I occasionally smoke for four years and quit for two.

9. I wish I hadn’t mentioned that last one because it’s a filthy disgusting habit and I’m weak for not being able to break it.

10. I have a full on girly crush on Mark Harmon.

11. I secretly have a thing for a lot of older men with grey hair, especially if they seem like they’re smarter than me. Weird, I know.

12. I don’t think Sean Connery is attractive.

13. I laugh hysterically in my sleep. It has been recorded on a number of occasions.

14. I play on toots little swing even though I really don’t fit on it.

15. I hate the beach, but love the sea.

16. I’ve passed every mock exam I’ve ever taken with flying colours, but barely made it through the ones that count by the skin of my teeth.

17. I went to a grammar school.

18. I have been hired for jobs based on the fact that I went to a grammar school even though I was ridiculously under qualified.

19. When I first typed grammar I spelt it with an “e”.

20. I can’t drive. I lived five minutes from anywhere I wanted to be growing up and I just never got round to learning.

21. I don’t regret that I can’t drive, I like to walk and I’m used to it. I do know a lot of people who regret (thinking) that they need to drive.

22. I genuinely believe that I could kill a man if he harmed my daughter.

23. I sat by her bed every night for three weeks after she came home from the hospital and slept curled around her during he day.

24. I can’t have any more children.

25. I can’t remember anything for three days after having her and have a lot of photos I have no recollection of.

26. I requested copies of my maternity notes and records through the law firm I worked at when I went back to work but didn’t read them for another eight months.

27. I had nightmares for a month after I read them and cursed my curiosity.

28. I have two tattoos, one tribal symbol on my stomach, which is now very misshapen and a pink flying elephant at the base of my neck. The first was a gift from my husband and the second was a bored Sunday trying to prove to a friend that getting a tattoo doesn’t actually hurt.

29. I prefer the winter. In fact I absolutely love winter.

30. I love scarves and hot chocolate.

31. I have been mistaken for a French woman on more than one occasion because of the scarves and hot chocolate.

32. I am a dyed in the wool 80s rock chick even though I came out of the 80s at age 10.

33. I can’t abide people who say they don’t like something when they have never tried it.

34. I’m that annoying person who will torture you until you try the thing you claim to dislike.

35. I will eat absolutely anything and my friends take advantage of this at every opportunity.

36. I think Carrie Bradshaw is a prude and has no business writing a sex column.

37. I could run my washing machine constantly for a week and still the laundry wouldn’t be finished

38. I hate “perfect”. I am perfectly content with “finished”.

39. I buy lots of moisturiser but always forget to use it.

40. I don’t really like flowers, I prefer greenery.

41. Green is my favourite colour, I used to think it was blue but I was wrong. It has always been green.

42. I call teenage girls who wear nothing but baby pink and white “princess marshmallow”.

43. I think Madonna should seriously consider retirement before she hurts herself.

44. My brother and I hated each other until I moved out and now we’re the best of friends.

45. I find it very hard to believe that I am no longer sixteen.

46. My house is usually chaotic. I think it would be great to have someone come in and do the cleaning but in reality I would probably clean before they got here in case they thought bad things about me.

47. I take hundreds of photos and never print them because I am useless with a camera.

48. I only learnt to knit because I was annoyed nobody knitted anything for toots when she was born.

49. Knitting is the easiest thing in the world; however crochet is the required entrance exam for Mensa.

50. I can’t crochet.

51. This REALLY annoys me.

52. I speed read. I have read every book I own at least three times and I can guarantee it will still sound new the next time I read it.

53. I’m looking out of my living room window wondering when it got dark and if I can get away with not feeding my husband tonight.

54. If I had started a swear box when I was a teenager I could retire by now.

55. I always think I’m a decent stomach flu away from my ideal weight.

56. I don’t get air guitar. If you can’t, don’t. Would you jump out of a plane pretending you had a parachute? No, thought not.

57. Playing with a plastic guitar is not air guitar no matter what Rock Heroes would lead you to believe.

58. People in this country hate white van drivers. I miss my husband’s big white van.

59. Himself and I got married for a free upgrade on a holiday and decided we quite liked the idea of being married about two days before the wedding.

60. My wedding cost £34.00.

61. Had I booked it a month earlier it would have cost £30.

62. I actually do call toots “toots”. It isn’t just a bloggy thing.

63. I never think to make toast for myself, but have to have it if someone else does.

64. I love to light the fire and curl up in front of it, but only do it at Christmas in case the novelty wears off.

65. I love handbags and shoes; they’re a fat girl’s best friends.

66. I am fat.

67. I’m secular humanist. If you had asked me in my teens I would have said I was atheist but I’m much happier now I’m in charge of what I do.

68. I’m an early bird and a night owl.

69. Until I had toots I rarely had more than four hours sleep a night, now six is plenty.

70. I think I should have been born in Spain and plan to retire there. The idea of a siesta appeals to me.

71. I would love to visit Honk Kong but can’t imagine doing it with a child in tow.

72. I quite fancy the idea of writing a cookery book.

73. I am convinced that one day I will win the lottery, hopefully this will be the day I actually spend £1 and do the lottery.

74. I went on honeymoon to Egypt and would go back tomorrow. I think I could spend ten years there and not see everything I want to see.

75. When I went to Las Vegas I thought I could spend a day and visit all the casinos (because I’m an idiot). It took three.

76. I don’t like IPod. Creative is the king of all MP3 players.

77. I won’t eat fish or seafood caught by a trawler.

78. I don’t have any problem with eating cows and chickens since we’re the only ones on the planet that do.

79. Although, I don’t really like meat, if I’m honest. I maybe eat it once a week.

80. I keep a jar of Nutella (chocolate hazelnut spread) in the fridge and eat I with a spoon straight from the jar.

81. I love Christmas but I’m not bonkers about any of the other holidays.

82. Actually that was a lie. I kind of like Halloween.

83. I would quite like smaller boobs. I think bras fall into three categories; pretty, supportive and the one I where, scaffolding.

84. I don’t wear makeup, but I probably should.

85. I’ve tried the cabbage soup diet….and the colour diet, but I didn’t really understand that one.

86. I spent a lot of my time as a child with my great aunt. She was very old fashioned and a proper lady. Because of this.

87. I never chew gum.

88. I can’t bring myself to cross my legs at the knee, only at the ankle.

89. I can’t let toots out of the house with bare shoulders, even to play in her paddling pool.

90. My great aunt spoiled me rotten and regularly gave me mandarin oranges served on a silver platter. And I’m not kidding.

91. I think cereal is a perfectly acceptable evening meal.

92. I’m very impatient and because of that I’m probably going to post this way before my hundredth post.

93. I might actually post a picture of myself for my hundredth post.

94. I love kid’s movies. My current favourite is “Over the Hedge”.

95. I like Pepsi, not Coke. Full fat, not diet.

96. If I could start every meal with dessert, I would.

97. I hate vacuuming. I was once PMSing and got tangled in the vacuum cable. It kept getting in the way and it made me cry a little. I’ve never gotten over it.

98. My mum’s dog Bruno died just over six months ago and toots still talks about him like he’s in the room. I think this is normal. Kids are supposed to be like that, aren’t they?

99. I’m convinced I can swim even though I haven’t been in a pool in ten years. I might be in for a surprise.

100. Himself and I are the youngest couple on our road. The neighbours loved us until we got married and have barely acknowledged us since.

Scarf Pattern - Adding to the Christmas Stash

I think I'm finally getting on top of these Christmas presents.

We're all agreed as a family this year to only give token gifts to the home as a whole, baked goods, a tin of sweets, that kind of thing, but because I've already finished a few things I'll still give them as presents this year. I've explained that there are already finished and ready to be given and that I don't expect anything in return, so nobody will feel pressured to run out and buy a last minute present.

I picked up this yarn in the January sale last year, it's 70% acrylic and 30% wool, DK weight and it's lovely and soft, perfect for a garment worn next to the skin.

I started the scarf as a plain garter stitch scarf without any real plan of where I would go with it, because of the variegation in the yarn I thought it would be nice enough left plain, but somewhere in the second ball I decided it needed something else.

The pattern is as follows

CO 35 st
k every row until scarf is desired length
begin short row
k 34 st turn leaving 1 stitch on the original needle and k back across 34 st.
k 33 st turn leaving 2 stitches one the original needle and k back across 33 st.
carry on like this knitting one less stitch on each row until the last row.
k 1 st, turn and k 1 stitch.
If you wish to leave the scarf tapering to a point cast off at this stage, otherwise;
(k, p, k) into every stitch on needle.
knit for six more rows and cast off.

I used a pattern from a Nicky Epstien book for the corsage but you can get lovely patterns for these here and here and at Knitting Pattern Central, or feel free to leave the scarf completely unadorned.

Yarn Stash

I’ve been very good this last week or so, trying to get on top of all those small jobs which, if left undone, amount to one hell of a big job.

I’ve also been knitting like a woman possessed, trying to get everything finished in time for Christmas.

You may recall I’ve mentioned before that my yarn stash is not what you would call organised. I’ve tried and tried before, but I always wind up spending some time and sorting out a small amount of my yarn (whilst at the same time getting completely sidetracked and starting to flick through patterns to see what to do with yarn I’d forgot I even had) and then mussing it all up again at a later date while rummaging to find something.

So I’ve been out and bought a box of huge zip lock bags. These things will easily hold four or five 100g balls of yarn plus (hopefully) the pattern they’re destined to become. I’m about half way through the job and a lot of what’s left are recent enough purchases (the last 18 months) and I can still remember which pattern they are for, so with a bit of luck and willpower I should get the rest sorted in about an hour or so.

Now Wednesday or more precisely Works for me Wednesday snuck up on me and I haven’t taken any pictures of my own, but I’d be chuffed to bits if I could get the stash looking like this.

courtesy of amariaj

Well, ok, I’d be happy with this, besides anything that organised might make the rest of my house cry.

courtesy of Ms. Pants

For more WFMW head back (I’m assuming that’s how you found me) over to Shannon at Rocks in my Dryer.

Frozen peppers and feeling undeservedly superior

What with Saturday having some lovely weather and toots off to a birthday party with Nana, I decided to spend the afternoon market haunting.

My fruit and veg guy obviously had somewhere to be in the afternoon and when I arrived he was already packing up, at least an hour earlier than usual (or maybe he just knew I was coming and wanted to get the hell out of there).

He had a box of mixed bell peppers which he had marked down to £0.40 each which is actually a pretty good price here. They usually run about £0.50-£0.60 each for a medium sized one or £0.99 for three little tiddlers.

I maybe got lucky because he just wanted to get packed and away, but I offered him £0.15 each and I would take the entire box off his hands and he finally agreed. He doesn't do any markets on a Sunday and would have had to wait until Monday to try selling them again and they were already very ripe.

Alright, so I don't drive and it meant lugging a box of 24 peppers home with me but I was a very happy bunny when I got them home. I sliced the whole box into strips and froze them on baking sheets before dumping them into two large zip lock bags. I get through a lot of peppers in this house, but they'll still last a couple of months.

And does anyone else get that odd slightly elated feeling, that you rock as a mommy and wife when you have a glut of something (that if it was all you had left, you could make a meal of) in your freezer. And why do I get exactly the same feeling when I've stocked up on toilet paper?

Does anyone know what this is?

I don't know if its the drastic change in weather here over the last couple of years, but I'm starting to notice some really weird bugs and winged beasties like this one.

I've absolutely no clue what it is, maybe somebody else does but I just thought it was freaky enough looking to deserve a mention. It's about two inches long and about three inches wide.

And yes, I'm still imperial, so shoot me.

Sunday! Already?

Just a quick pic of Toots chillin in the forest.

The weather here all weekend (well until an hour ago) has been great, which isn't a surprise considering all the kids are back to school and it's always sunny once they go back (picture the faces of poor little kiddies staring forlornly out of a classroom window at the glorious sunshine), so I packed a bag, grabbed the family and headed out the door.

I'll be back tomorrow though, fully refreshed and hopefully with more than five minutes to spare.