I love Wednesday mornings!

It's Elanor's happy hour. On Tuesday night we can send her to bed in a flutter of excitement that her vegetables are coming in the morning. The veg man is akin to Father Christmas.

First thing in the morning she legs it outside and comes in proudly bearing her veg box. After breakfast she gets to announce the contents delightedly. And then she is allowed to destalk, wash and prepare the whole lot for the fridge. Occupies her for ages and I don't have to do a thing! There is so much more for little fingers to do when everything isn't ready prepared. Supermarket food is so frustrating for a budding little cook - it's all chop, and cook. Tough when you're not allowed sharp knives or near the cooker....

My little one is getting so big....

July, 2010

November, 2006

I had my big little girl fast asleep on my back in Didymos Stendhal yesterday. Every time this happens now I wonder if it will be the last time. She is a mighty three-and-three-quarters, and we are starting to look forward to her fourth birthday. She would like a party with a horse, and a cake with lots of numbers, chocolate flavour with special bacon. Don't ask.

I know we're lucky to have wrapped for this long, especially as she is no small girl. We have exclusively slung for just over 3.5 years, and I think that needs some celebrating! Browsing the shops free and easy whilst she slept on my back, oblivious, yesterday - it was lovely. Although I am more and more aware of the *looks* these days. Brazen as I am in staring them down.

One day it will be the last time, and I guess that will be OK, and we won't notice, and life will go on. One day I will teach her to carry her own babies. Apparently she is going to have a baby boy when she is a big lady - probably twenty - and call him Dylan. Not too long to wait, then!

WANT! WANT, WANT, WANT, WANT, WANT!!

IMG_2919.cake, originally uploaded by manda2177.

Could this be the coolest cake ever? It reminds me of something from Alice in Wonderland. It's truly wonderful. One of these days I might have a go at making one. Perhaps I can start influencing Elanor now so by her birthday she's asking for a rainbow cake.....

Flickr

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

Sweet confusings

See how many you can solve...Highlight for the answers!

What's that flower?

It's an Elanorflower. It was an elderflower

What's that animal?

It's a Hippybottomus. Hippopotamus

What do you use when it's raining?

A bumrella Umbrella

Where do dinosaurs live?

In the sink. They're extinct

Do you have a tummyache?

No I have pasta. Granmum died of pasta. Cancer

What's that shape?

It's a sextangle rectangle

What's that noise?

It was my windmill I farted

Oh look the lady has got a balloon for you!

I don't want a balloon, I want a waybulloon argh cbeebies!!

I'm baaaaa-cck!

I've been gone, but I'm back now. I got through the probate, I got through my studies and sat the dreaded exam, and at last I have a little time for internet fripperies. I have loads of funny stories to make up for it!

Here is some fun and fabulousness out of the mouths of babes....

How to travel with your baby....

Put him on your back at the station and keep your hands free.

Then feed him on the train whilst you take in the view.

Simples.

FAIL!

see more funny facebook stuff!

Currently cracking up at failbooking.com....

Pimsel Roffle Snort

Popped round to a neighbour's for a cuppa yesterday. Elanor aka the human dustbin was offered a Dairylea cheese triangle from the fridge. She looked at it apprehensively - 'what is it?' she asked. 'It's cheese' said the neighbour.

She took a desultory nibble and gave it back 'That's NOT cheese'

My Mum would have been so proud!

So, so tired.

Does anyone know anything about probate? It's back to it again tomorrow after taking a few days off the forms and phonecalls merry-go-round to cobble together a paltry effort at assignment 4 in my current course. Doesn't help that I've got a grotty throat infection, either. I feel appalling. I have accrued a large amount of death-related debt. My brother is making my life miserable. And I miss my Mum.

Add a smiley picture, because you've got to keep positive, right? That's Elanor and I at my Mum's funeral. Smile for the camera....

Things that should not happen...

NHS sign:

Family planning advice
Use Back Entrance

as seen on Facebook.

Canesten Duo (for thrush)

Allows you to feel yourself again.

Observed by me and I'm sure countless others with dirty minds on TV advert.

On a more serious note...

Those police adverts. 'Let's keep crime down'. I live near a police station and they are plastered to every lamp post. HIDE YOUR VALUABLES. 1 IN 4 THROUGH AN UNLOCKED DOOR! The recent TV and radio campaign inviting you to think it absurd that anyone should go to bed and leave a laptop on the table in their own house. Can't do that, that's just asking to be burgled. Uh-huh. Yeah. If you leave your things out in your house, it's your fault if you get robbed. The poor passing burglar just could not help themselves.

I've been burgled. It is not nice. If a burglar wants to rob your house, they will, and it doesn't really matter what security you have in place. Whether you leave your mobile on the dashboard, or your keys in the lock, being robbed is never your fault, and I resent the campaign's implication that keeping crime down is the responsibility of innocent people.

Can you imagine the outcry if applied to another crime? Sensitive topic....but valid, I think.....HIDE YOUR CLEAVAGE. 1 IN 4 DRESSED LIKE A...........

But that wouldn't win any votes, would it?

Yet we are supposed to accept this 'advice' as purely sensible? It is not sensible. Innocent people should be able to live their lives without this fear, this implication that if you do something wrong you will have rolled out the red carpet to any passing criminal. Crime is the criminal's fault and no-one else's.

How about a nice new advertising campaign advising those of a dodgy moral substance of the consequences of their possible actions?

Elanor's LBD

All black dresses for 3/4 year olds (if you can find them at all) look like they are designed for minature streetwalkers. True, black was not compulsory, after all I organised the funeral, but seemed fitting and was my Mum's favourite colour.

So I'm really glad I got a sewing machine for Christmas. One £3.50 offcut and a lot of bodging later, et voila. Elanor's Little Black Dress.

I have never made a dress for a little person, I didn't have a pattern, and I haven't used a sewing machine for a proper project in ten years, so all things considered, it came out quite well.

Happy Valentine's Day!

I was told, this morning. Yes, it's the 11th. No, he doesn't know when Valentine's Day is. So he guessed.

I'll let him off, we have not celebrated it before, and we've been together eight years. Even more of a surprise, as he said. I got a large box of chocolates and a book, and I am just going to enjoy both in a hot, deep bath.

Yesterday was my Mum's birthday, we scattered her ashes under a tree at Rawdon Crematorium. Elanor decided it was a christmas tree. Quite impressed with the turnaround, she was only cremated 22 hours previously.

I am musing on a long rant about random articles that have been bugging me, as a return to a more usual blog format - but I think it will keep for another day - when I may, or may not, be more coherent.

Thankyou everyone for the lovely messages of condolence.

How is it possible...

How is it possible...

... that my Mum is dead?
I'm sorry, that just can't be.
It just can't, it is horrible.

My Mum is a powerhouse of opinion
a pillar of directness.
But I was there, and she could not face
her own powerlessness.

My Mum is a force of nature,
a sheer clench of will.
But I watched her struggle
up the too long. Long. Winding hill.

My Mum is a whirlwind of fire,
and steel, and strong.
But I saw her gasp with pain
and rage that it was wrong.

My Mum is fierce, and big, and scary
- my under-bed monsters never dare.
But she checked herself into the hospice
where the bed-end notes give the scare.

My Mum can't give me a hug
It would give too much away.
But she held and kissed those nurses.
Right from the very first day.

My Mum hasn't held my hand
since I could cross a street on my own.
But I held hers for four days straight
because those seeds were sown.

My Mum is someone who will defend me
to her last breath.
But I saw them. Rattling, terrifying.
and she couldn't defend me from death.

My Mum is someone who dances
like nobody is watching.
But I saw her die.

My Mum is angry.
And so am I.

2010 and all's well

Just about, ha.

Some snowy pictures for you, before I get dragged away by a small girl who seems about to combust. She is creating a rather interesting picture involving black paint and scaly creature stickers. Healthy, I'm sure.

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!

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.

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.

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.

I've been working

I've been working A LOT and haven't had much time for witty banter, unfortunately. Not that it matters much with this abysmal corner of the web, having approximately zero readers, and showing my technical inability generally.

I should fix that.

So to all the brand new readers I am jollying off to recruit, please leave comment here to confirm you do in fact exist, and are not a product of this excellent bottle of Special Release Chardonnay........