Sunday 13 December 2009

Eat your heart out, Kirstie Allsopp!







We have been busy this Christmas time, here are a few pictures - well, here is the aforementioned pic spam!
Our Christmas wreath, our Advent Calendar (with proper chocolates cast in our new Christmas moulds) Presents - the sock monkeys have been breeding again! And I spread my wings and tried something a little different - an owl for a good friend of mine with a special reason behind it!The hampers are shaping up nicely, this is a sneaky preview on what they are looking like so far....

Raspberry Liquor
Plum and Pumpkin Chutney with Merlot
Mulled Wine
Sweet Apricot and Cranberry Jam
Caramelised Pecans and Walnuts
Elanor's Lavender Snowball Christmas soaps
Lemon and Grapefruit Soap
Spicy Sandalwood Soap
Breakfast for your Skin Apricot, Oat and Honey facial scrub
Chocolate Fudge
Cranberry and Raisin Fudge
Peppermint Creams
Salt dough tree decoration
Salt dough Christmas candle holder

Some duplicates and lots left to come, it's not finished yet. We've made everything but the mulled wine. There will be four full size hampers and several smaller ones given this year.
It's been fun, so far!

Saturday 12 December 2009

The Unmentionable....s

http://www.shineboxprint.com/products/ready/unm/

Oh, I want! Can anyone find them on a UK site? They are brilliant.

If not I'll consider getting some made. I've always fancied having an officious looking card to hand over with a winning smile, but when you look closely or get around to calling the number it actually says '017ur aprick80' Not that I'm into text speak normally you understand!

These have the edge with the funky little cartoons, I fear.

Wednesday 9 December 2009

Frosty greetings!


'Goodnight Elanor, I love you'


'Goodnight Mummy, I love Daddy'


Huh.


'Yes, I love Daddy as well'


'NO!!! MY DADDY!!! NOT YOUR DADDY!!!!'


'OK, you're right, he's your Daddy'


'Yeah, MINE. I love Daddy, and I love milk, and I love the postman.'


'I love Elanor, and Daddy, and I love the packages the postman brings'


'Yes, I love packages, and presents, and Santa'


'What would you like Santa to bring you this year?'


'A postman'


Okkkkkkkaaaayyyyyy. Daddy isn't even here and won't be until Sunday!

Luckily for all of us I've had a word with Santa and his elves have already made her a Postman posting game. Very fortunate.

Speaking of packages and presents, more are arriving every day including things I forgot I'd ordered, and I'm extremely happy with the bargainous haul this year! Highlights must include the pair of wooden dolls houses sitting under a sheet in the bedroom, along with three doll families and hundreds - literally, hundreds - of pieces of dolly furniture etc. One for Elanor and one for her cousin, cost approximately 20% of what they would have retailed for new. And even more penny pinchingly, I got Grandma to buy Elanor's.....

And the lovely wooden set that arrived today, ooooh la la, I highly recommend. This will be my girl's present from me this year.

Oh I forgot, I realised this blog is sadly lacking in pictures (and comments, I love comments, please leave comments, need comments, want comments) so I have resolved to add some colour and illustration.

In other words I'm going to pic spam you.

Monday 7 December 2009

Lessons in cuteness (how to get whatever you want from your parents)

How do they know, these kids?

How do they KNOW?

I don't know about you, but I have noticed a tendency toward the uber-cute from my just turned three year old. It seems so young to be that manipulative, turning the big eyes on Daddy, eyelashes a-fluttering, somehow absorbing the cute vibe from everything and parroting it back at the most opportune moment. Trapped in full-beam cute from the offspring, we the parents are helpless to resist, and melt obscenely into small puddles for the triumphant child to jump in.

Case in point:

We had a wonderful day yesterday putting up the Christmas tree. We had mulled wine, chocolates and nibbles, a roaring fire roasting the lazy dog and a skittish kitten jumping about at his first encounter with a Christmas tree. We'd made biscuit decorations with the neighbourhood kids, threaded through with ribbon. We put the Muppet Christmas Carol on the TV.

Idyllic.

I mean, short of tying Robert up and injecting him forcibly with a vial of Christmas Spirit, it was the best I could do. And it did work, to a point. But all my effort paled into insignificance in the face of a single utterance from the small child.

Having decorated the tree, and watched the Muppets, Scrooge, and the spirits - with much comment and laughter at the funny bits of the film but not a jot on the soppier parts - we turned off the telly and stood and looked at the fairy lights.

I gave Robert a hug and the small person joined in, he picked her up and we watched the fairy lights dance.

She leant in, one arm round my neck, one arm around Daddy's neck, gave us a big squeeze and said 'God bless us, everyone'

Tiny Tim, eat your heart out.