Shortstories posted a comment under the 'pants' entry (nice to know someone is out there) saying I should be getting more mileage out of the word 'fanny'. It reminded me to share this one.
Being a conscientious mother, I encourage my children to read. I vividly remember the Mallory Towers series from my childhood and reckoned Twinkle was at the ideal age for all those ginger beer-esque adventures, so I hit Amazon with gusto. Nothing! Nowt! Couldn't find a thang. Has Enid Blyton become so non-pc she's been banned? What?
Eventually I find The Adventures of the Faraway Tree. Aha! I remember that, different worlds on clouds, Moonface, Silky, bread and jam. Great!
It arrives 3 weeks later. Twinkle DEVOURS it! Loves it, recommends it to all her friends. I sit down to read it to her brother.
The main characters are Jo, Fanny and Dick.
That'll be us barred from the 4th Grade reading circle then.
Monday, September 3, 2007
my goodness a month has passed almost to the day
since I last blogged. Not that I've been hugely busy, just always have other stuff to get done. Like my blog buddy shortstories lamented, it sometimes feels like a big time commitment when you get into blogging. But oddly , i miss it when I dont do it. Especially now that I've acknowledged I'm increasingly becoming a scatty old woman. I worry that I'm losing my life experiences for ever because my RAM is full of stuff I don't need. I forget the oddest things - and remember even odder stuff. I have been known to forget where my car is parked - or the fact that I took a ride that morning and have no car with me! How the valet guy laughed at that one! Or I forget that I took my laptop home the night before (despite working on it for 5 hours) and go all the way to work only to have to turn around and go return it because I have no hard drive to work from).
My grey-matter filing system has definately become 'bespoke' in recent years. Suppose it comes to us all in time. Although, I can always take comfort in knowing I'm not as bad as hubbie - who I did manage to convince once he was a year older than he actually was - with no effort at all. How he swung between /irked/pleased/cross/annoyed/delighted a year later when he got to celebrate the same birthday all over again.
My grey-matter filing system has definately become 'bespoke' in recent years. Suppose it comes to us all in time. Although, I can always take comfort in knowing I'm not as bad as hubbie - who I did manage to convince once he was a year older than he actually was - with no effort at all. How he swung between /irked/pleased/cross/annoyed/delighted a year later when he got to celebrate the same birthday all over again.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Disturbed
Saw Hairspray today. John Travolta as the 'large' mom ( the Devine role to those of us who remember the 80's version). When I first saw him I though - no, this wont work for me. Then there were places where I thought - Oh he's pulled it off! But overall I'm just kinda disturbed by the experience. Will see if the nightime brings nightmares - then I'll decide.
A few very adult jokes in there, which was a tad uncomfortable with small children. Needless to say it went right over their heads - thankfully. Although you never know. After the last 'what do you mean babies dont exit via the bellybutton? ' conversation I'm bracing myself for the classic 'what's a communicable disease?' . Big breaths.
A few very adult jokes in there, which was a tad uncomfortable with small children. Needless to say it went right over their heads - thankfully. Although you never know. After the last 'what do you mean babies dont exit via the bellybutton? ' conversation I'm bracing myself for the classic 'what's a communicable disease?' . Big breaths.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Pants
Not completely American I admit. But never ceases to amuse me when one bloke says to another at work ' are those new pants? very cool!' To offset this they continue to make me say 'potato' for no reason though.
vacation
Long time no post - shame on me. Writers block, busy life - boring life. But now that I've remembered how to log on (!) back to my rambling habits.
Just back from vacation (another Americanism that's crept in to the dialect - used to be holidays before). Went to Oahu in Hawaii. LOVED IT. Palm trees, beaches, mai tai' s. Mmmmm.
Wee girl became snorkelling demon. Snorkelling in the pool, in the sea, in the shower, on the loo (photo's to prove it on request). Wee boy became a hula demon. Father NOT impressed by that. Mai Tai muddled mother found it hysterical.
Snorkelling with a 9 year old is very interesting. Especially in shallow rocky bays. (Shark's Cove to be specific). She's scooting around without a care, I keep getting my boobs and budha belly scuffed on the rocks. Ouch. Also, her fascination with BIG fish was slightly disconcerting. I know I'm a coward/freak/wimp/woose etc etc etc, but I do not like to be swimming with big giant silver and green stripy toothy boggle eyed beasts. (God knows I dated enough of them in the 80's!) Wee nemo-esque blue and yellow things are fine - but the big giant ugly thangs - eeeeek!
Very friendly people in Hawaii - especially the buff young men. No wonder the middle-aged ladies all look so cheery.
Usual ridiculously bad American road signage. Husband forced us to visit Pearl Harbor, took us longer to find it than it did to tour it. But terribly informative. terribly. (See previous blog on middle-aged men and their fascination with all things war related).
Previous to Hawaii...
Birthday parties x 3. - Beach party sooo much easier than bouncy castle with midges.
Surf camp - 9 year old can surf, husband can't.
First and second visitors of the summer - must start charging for that spare room.
4th of July parade - free candy, barbecue, fireworks, lost sister in crowd, found er again.
Sonoma cabin - floppy futon and farty bruv-in-law. Managed to lose control of my arm during conversation and literally THROW a glass of red wine over young sister. She took it well. (compensation for farty bruv-in-law).
Post Hawaii (bikini shame) now on fish, veg, white wine and chocolate diet. Will keep you posted on that one. Training for mid Sept 10K. My legs hurt. Best tip from marathon-runner-skinny-blonde-friend/personal trainer. 'the trick is to stop running before you can't breathe any more'. Sooo glad I'm not paying her!
Just back from vacation (another Americanism that's crept in to the dialect - used to be holidays before). Went to Oahu in Hawaii. LOVED IT. Palm trees, beaches, mai tai' s. Mmmmm.
Wee girl became snorkelling demon. Snorkelling in the pool, in the sea, in the shower, on the loo (photo's to prove it on request). Wee boy became a hula demon. Father NOT impressed by that. Mai Tai muddled mother found it hysterical.
Snorkelling with a 9 year old is very interesting. Especially in shallow rocky bays. (Shark's Cove to be specific). She's scooting around without a care, I keep getting my boobs and budha belly scuffed on the rocks. Ouch. Also, her fascination with BIG fish was slightly disconcerting. I know I'm a coward/freak/wimp/woose etc etc etc, but I do not like to be swimming with big giant silver and green stripy toothy boggle eyed beasts. (God knows I dated enough of them in the 80's!) Wee nemo-esque blue and yellow things are fine - but the big giant ugly thangs - eeeeek!
Very friendly people in Hawaii - especially the buff young men. No wonder the middle-aged ladies all look so cheery.
Usual ridiculously bad American road signage. Husband forced us to visit Pearl Harbor, took us longer to find it than it did to tour it. But terribly informative. terribly. (See previous blog on middle-aged men and their fascination with all things war related).
Previous to Hawaii...
Birthday parties x 3. - Beach party sooo much easier than bouncy castle with midges.
Surf camp - 9 year old can surf, husband can't.
First and second visitors of the summer - must start charging for that spare room.
4th of July parade - free candy, barbecue, fireworks, lost sister in crowd, found er again.
Sonoma cabin - floppy futon and farty bruv-in-law. Managed to lose control of my arm during conversation and literally THROW a glass of red wine over young sister. She took it well. (compensation for farty bruv-in-law).
Post Hawaii (bikini shame) now on fish, veg, white wine and chocolate diet. Will keep you posted on that one. Training for mid Sept 10K. My legs hurt. Best tip from marathon-runner-skinny-blonde-friend/personal trainer. 'the trick is to stop running before you can't breathe any more'. Sooo glad I'm not paying her!
Monday, June 11, 2007
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Seems everyone is doing stuff
We've had a rash of hobby-itis this past few weeks. Daughter is on the local girls softball team. She's had 2 games and is bored already. I'm forcing her to stick it out till end of season though. If for no reason other than to recoup the cost of the mitt, the sign-up, the team photos, the cleats, the trousers, etc etc etc.
Since she's being forced to be there she passes her time productively in the dugout (she IS a benchwarmer) by learning new chants ('she's number wuuuuhhn,- Alice is her naaaahhme,- she's wunnathereasons, - we're gonna win this gaaaaaamme);blowing HUGE hair-matting-blue-hubba-bubba bubbles; and fashion 'stylin' the uniforms. (if you twist stripy socks you get spiral socks - soooo cooooool - apparently). At the end of the game she has no concept of the score. She plays for the coasters. So far they've been beaten by the Kittens and drawn with the Livewires. Both times she reckons the other team had the advantage because they have either a better uniform (kittens) or better name! I fear her heart isn't in the game sadly. !!!
Wee boy's fave hobby is currently reading. He is now a certified boffin, having just been assessed at school as a Fifth grade level reader!!!! His sister is furious - she too is a Fifth grade level reader, but she's just finishing 3rd grade while he is just finishing KG - to her this is some sort of personal affront and it drives her MAD. This irritation is only excaberated by his new hobby of reading everything. He is reading anything he can get his hands on, (and I'm constantly hiding my copies of People and Marie Claire). He reads out loud as we drive along, challenging her to read-offs. This is all fine until you pull up alongside some graffiti. Yikes. Every time this happens I'm reminded of the now famous shop name incident. ' m-a-n-g-o mango. m-a-c-y-s macys, f-c-u-k f..... ' Yes you can imagine.
Hubby is now officially back from his weekend endurance trip. Between last Thursday am and Sat night he went from Moss Beach, to Nevada, to Idaho, to Utah, to Nevada, (again) and back to California. Pulled a classic by wearing head to toe black leather - then realizing that it's 108 in Nevada in June.!!! However, he had fun - he says.
So not to be outdone, I've been looking for my own hobby. Have considered a motorbike of my own (don't have a motorbike yet), surfing (need swim lessons first) I dabbled in running (too hard). So instead I've taken up knitting! I feel it befits a woman of my mature years and certainly fits with my talent for sitting on my arse drinking wine. Unfortunately, I don't seem to be very good at it. (The knitting, that is - I'm very good at the sitting and drinking bit). I mean, how hard could it be really? But no, its not really working. I've made 2 hats so far. Son is wearing his with pride, but unfortunately it has so many holes, he looks like he's wearing an enormous hairnet. I keep telling him it's gangsta, though so struts around in it thinking he's cool. (Thats the problem with boffins - very gullible on the style front). Hat numero 2 is too small even for daughters tiny heed. However, I turned the situation around by sewing on a handle and some beads. She's been wearing her new 'purse' all day. I'm rather proud of my creative recovery on that one (unfortunately everything falls out of the 'purse' through the holes eventually). I KNOW they just feel sorry for me, but I cover for them and wear purple string bracelets, and enormous bead keyrings and shrunken plastic brooches every day - so I'll bask in my creative glow for a little longer. ( I will of course remove the hairnet before he goes to school - there's funny and there's downright cruel.)
Since she's being forced to be there she passes her time productively in the dugout (she IS a benchwarmer) by learning new chants ('she's number wuuuuhhn,- Alice is her naaaahhme,- she's wunnathereasons, - we're gonna win this gaaaaaamme);blowing HUGE hair-matting-blue-hubba-bubba bubbles; and fashion 'stylin' the uniforms. (if you twist stripy socks you get spiral socks - soooo cooooool - apparently). At the end of the game she has no concept of the score. She plays for the coasters. So far they've been beaten by the Kittens and drawn with the Livewires. Both times she reckons the other team had the advantage because they have either a better uniform (kittens) or better name! I fear her heart isn't in the game sadly. !!!
Wee boy's fave hobby is currently reading. He is now a certified boffin, having just been assessed at school as a Fifth grade level reader!!!! His sister is furious - she too is a Fifth grade level reader, but she's just finishing 3rd grade while he is just finishing KG - to her this is some sort of personal affront and it drives her MAD. This irritation is only excaberated by his new hobby of reading everything. He is reading anything he can get his hands on, (and I'm constantly hiding my copies of People and Marie Claire). He reads out loud as we drive along, challenging her to read-offs. This is all fine until you pull up alongside some graffiti. Yikes. Every time this happens I'm reminded of the now famous shop name incident. ' m-a-n-g-o mango. m-a-c-y-s macys, f-c-u-k f..... ' Yes you can imagine.
Hubby is now officially back from his weekend endurance trip. Between last Thursday am and Sat night he went from Moss Beach, to Nevada, to Idaho, to Utah, to Nevada, (again) and back to California. Pulled a classic by wearing head to toe black leather - then realizing that it's 108 in Nevada in June.!!! However, he had fun - he says.
So not to be outdone, I've been looking for my own hobby. Have considered a motorbike of my own (don't have a motorbike yet), surfing (need swim lessons first) I dabbled in running (too hard). So instead I've taken up knitting! I feel it befits a woman of my mature years and certainly fits with my talent for sitting on my arse drinking wine. Unfortunately, I don't seem to be very good at it. (The knitting, that is - I'm very good at the sitting and drinking bit). I mean, how hard could it be really? But no, its not really working. I've made 2 hats so far. Son is wearing his with pride, but unfortunately it has so many holes, he looks like he's wearing an enormous hairnet. I keep telling him it's gangsta, though so struts around in it thinking he's cool. (Thats the problem with boffins - very gullible on the style front). Hat numero 2 is too small even for daughters tiny heed. However, I turned the situation around by sewing on a handle and some beads. She's been wearing her new 'purse' all day. I'm rather proud of my creative recovery on that one (unfortunately everything falls out of the 'purse' through the holes eventually). I KNOW they just feel sorry for me, but I cover for them and wear purple string bracelets, and enormous bead keyrings and shrunken plastic brooches every day - so I'll bask in my creative glow for a little longer. ( I will of course remove the hairnet before he goes to school - there's funny and there's downright cruel.)
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