Bedtime

It's past eleven o' clock at night. I should go to bed. But I don't _want_ to go to bed. Bed's the last place I want to be right now. Tomorrow morning I'll be tired and regret staying up. This morning at 6.30 _all_ I wanted to do was to stay in bed (and that was not an option - it never is). But right now: I do _not_ want to go to bed.

I
Am an owl
And not
A lark.

I went to my first ever bible study group this evening. It scored 10/10 for being interesting: "I could've talked all night" (now there's a new take on an old song!)

Anyhow, with regards to absolutely nothing, I heard a saying I've never heard before at this bible study group. It came from a wonderful pragmatist of a grandmother - she dealt it out as she might deal advice on how to best bake bread, or when to plant your carrots:

"don't be so heavenly as to be of no earthly use" (she even has the lovely west-country lilt to go with it)!

"Doen't bee so evunllee az to bee of no urrthlee yooss"

Don't read this and think I'm aiming it at you or anyone else - I can't actually see that it applies to anyone I've ever known, real or in blog-world. It may be the best advice ever given; it may the worst; it may figure elsewhere on the scale of good / bad advice. But I just loved the way she said it, and the ensuing silence, as we all wondered.....?

??

Suffering in Silence Here

My blog may be silent for a while as now I have gone down with the stomach bug that has afflicted everyone else in the house over the past fortnight, and I feel DREADFUL.....

Today is our 6th wedding anniversary. I shall celebrate tonight with a glass of 'settlers tums' or something!!

And now, back to bed.

Road Accidents

Just heard the news that one of the presenters of the TV programme "Top gear" is seriously ill in hospital with head injuries followng a high speed car crash yesterday (he was attempting to break the land-speed record, they think, and it was being filmed for TV. His wife is at his bedside - my heart goes out to her, and him. It's always shocking to hear sad news like this.

I don't watch "Top Gear" - its audience comprises so called "petrol heads" and fans of the energetic and controversial lead-presenter, Jeremy Clarkson. I have seen snippets of it and know that it regularly features celebrities driving cars at high speed round a race track.

If you enjoy seeing cars driving at terrifying high speeds, come to my neck of the woods. I can guarantee that after driving for about five minutes around these avenues in the residential outskirts of London you will be rewarded by the sight of some young lunatic risking his own and your life by accelerating towards his own, imagined 'finish post' somewhere along Acacia Avenue.

I am 38 (I may need to update my profile with that sad news). I have lost count, LOST COUNT, of the number of people I have known who have been killed, KILLED, in road accidents. One was a talented musician, aged 21. One was a peer at university who had become a reporter for 'The Times' newspaper, 26. Two were still at school when they were killed on the roads. Only a fortnight ago, a friend's son, in his early 30s, was killed in a car crash. I have known people who have died of heart attacks, strokes, cancer and murder. But the number of people I have known who have died as a result of car crashes probably exceeds all of the above put together. It baffles me when people think Diana 'couldn't possibly have been killed merely as a result of a car crash and that it must have been a conspiracy' - the suggestion seems be that to die in a car crash is to die in some kind of freak accident. It's common. IT'S COMMON. IT HAPPENS MANY TIMES EVERY DAY. SLOW DOWN.

"Top Gear" highlights the thrills of driving at speed. I DO hope that it is in the habit of warning its viewer of the dangers of dangerous driving too.

I love France, but....

Just returned from a week on the coast near Boulogne (photos will be posted when I have gone the stone-age route and had them developed!!!)

The weather was fantastic, the house we rented was lovely, the beach was perfect for the children and we had a couple of wonderful trips to local places of interest (if Boulogne is within reach for you, do visit its Aquarium - it's worth the ferry crossing).

But...

is it just me, or are holidays hard work with small children??? OK, so mine were either recovering from a sickness bug or going down with one (as we were to discover at 1.00am on Wednesday morning). So, when I wasn't cleaning up, I was worrying: worrying that they were going to damage themselves, the house, or the garden; worrying that they were barely eating a thing (other than shed-loads of baguette); worrying that my French might not be up to conversing with the local doctor if they became any iller....

I'm exhausted, and in a few minutes, I shall be retiring to the living room to do something that I have not done at all for the last 7 days: relax!

I DO love France though - and I can't wait to show you my photos.

One book…

Thanks for tagging me John. I'm gonna enjoy this!

1. One book that changed your life:
'Making History' by Stephen Fry - it made me read lots more books about the Second World War and holocaust, and I then I took myself off to Eastern Europe to see places that had featured in what I'd read. Then it all got too distressing and I stopped reading and visiting.

2. One book you’ve read more than once:
Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte (it was my A' level text, but that's not the only reason for re-reading it - I mean I've read it many times since)

3. One book you’d want on a desert island:
OK, this will seem odd. It's more of a pamphlet than a book. It was produced for the memorial service of a family friend called Hugh Bishop - it contained a few of his sermons and some of his writings. Lots of wisdom. A great, charismatic and joyful person. Enough to turn you to religion! I turn to it often, when in a crisis. Actually, I don't turn to it any more. I lent it to a curate and haven't had it back - but I believe he has used bits of it in his sermons and I'm delighted about that. (Mum has a copy though)

4. A book that made you laugh:
Second From Last in the Sack Race - David Nobbs - and I was in labour when I read it. Anything that can make you laugh when in labour HAS to be funny!

5. A book that made you cry:
Flambards by ??? (sorry, should know that, c'mon Ruth, I can almost see it on the book cover..... doh). I was quite young.

6. A book I wish I’d written:
All of the Harry Potters....... $$$$$$

7. A book I wish had never been written:
The Harry Potters - then I could have done so (like, as if). Actually there are lots that I think are roooobish. I once wrote to M&S to complain about the grammar in one of their children's books (and, I mean, mine's not good but this....)

8. A book I am currently reading:
Loads: Here's one: Elizabeth the Queen by Alison Weir. I'm making hard work of this one. I'm sure it's brilliant - her other books are, but ....somehow.....it's not exactly light, bedtime reading

9. A book I’ve been meaning to read:
Man on a Donkey, by Hilda Prescott

10. A book I wish had been written:
Something that covers what life was life for women in England in 1500s and 1600s (including child-birth and child-rearing, and living with the knowledge that child-birth would probably kill you , if something else didn't first). I want to know about the minds of those women. Isn't it funny that we're all older now than we would have been when we died, if we'd lived 500 years ago. If you have come across such a book, please let me know. I THINK it's something that's not been written about. And I've searched high and low.

And

Six Wierd Things About Me (come one Anne, you've not done these, but I think John wanted us to do both!!)

Well, actually, there are no wierd things about me. I am the Man on the Clapham Omnibus. I think that my lack of ability to make polite, trivial conversation means that lots of people might THINK that I'm wierd. But I'm not. I just don't do "the price of bread" conversations. (If you don't want to know about my haemarrhoids, then why did you ask me how I was?)! - and I am not spell-checking that.

So here are 6 wierd things about my husband:

(1) he married me, for heaven's sake.
(2) he is an electriciany type person (hang on, I've not finished yet). He is an electriciany, engineery, phone-mendingy type person and yet: nothing blumin works in this 'ouse. Our phone - now that's wierd. We have 4. I pick one up (if ANY are in the mood for ringing, and the other three continue to blinkin' ring. So I'm on the blower, and I can't hear myself think because I've three phones ringing in the background. And it's not just the phone. The telly's on the blink, the bath only runs hot if you've the skills of a safe-cracker with the hot tap, the computer takes for ever and a day to boot up (cos he's installed that many anti virus things) and, ooooooooh, REALLY
(3) his second toe is a lot longer than the rest - but he tells me that's normal (mine graduate from longest to shortest, the big toe being the longest. He says THAT'S wierd!!!!!!)
(4) he laughs at random, for no apparent reason. And when I ask him what's funny, he says 'nothing'
(5) If you were to ask him to remove the wallpaper from a really massive room, and then re-decorate it, he'd do it. No problem. He wouldn't get bored after 45 seconds. Nope. He'd do the lot. Day in. Day out. Till the job was completed. Then he'd move to the spare room, er, I mean the next room, and do that one too.
(6) He takes the same packed lunch to work EVERY DAY. I kid you not. It doesn't vary one iota. And he'd love for us to have a weekly rota of evening meals...

Gawd, he is one adorable wierdo!!!!!!

(And he never reads my blog)

!

Oh GREAT. Absolutely BLOOMIN' BRILLIANT!

8.00am, and Mikey's still not out of bed (unusual, mind you he did seem restless during the night)

"Come on now, Mikey" I call. "We've a fun day at the fair today - AND you'll be getting a tractor ride" (I've been looking forward to today for ages - friend and I plus children all off to a farm-type theme park).

I hear a cough from Michael's room. But it's not an "I've got a cold" type cough. Oh no. It's that other sort of a cough. That "I'm about to throw up everywhere type cough"

Before I know where I am, I have him in my clutches, standing before the loo. I'm thinking "OK, that's the next week written off now - first him, then her - she'll inevitably catch whatever it is; I'm thinking: minimum 4 days of vomitting". (I also felt tremendous sympathy for my little boy, really I did. It's THE most unpleasant thing, isn't it).

Back to bed he went, with lots of lovely cuddles, plenty of towels and a bucket ("No, not that one Mario, that's full of bits of plaster and DIY gunge - isn't there a clean one....?" (Husband's working from home this morning and was looking forward to a bit of peace whilst we were out!!!!))

"I hope I'm better by Friday" said Michael.

"Why?" I replied.

"Because we're going on holiday on Friday," he reminded me.




Oh yes.







We're meant to be going on holiday in 48 hours time.











Update: he's asleep on the sofa.

We Understand

My little daughter is at that wonderful age when only I, my husband and her brother understand what she is saying. So, if I ask her whether she wants to play outside and she shouts "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO", we know that she actually means "YES". And if we're indoors and she wants to play outside, she'll say (or shout, because that's what she does): "HIDE", with a wonderful, throaty, 'cat spewing up a fur-ball' type sound just before the "H". And we know exactly what she means. She's got "apple" down to a fine art, though. She says "apple" clear as a bell. The only problem is that every fruit that is not an orange or banana is an apple. Even grapes are apples....

I do love this stage. In fact, the "terrible twos" are when I really begin to enjoy my children!

Summer 2006, and haven't they grown...

My children have grown...
(don't ask!)


My husband's tomatoes have grown....


My collection of 'works of art' has grown....


Michael's sunflower has grown....



And so has his fertile imagination: this is a house of books...



and this is a playground (can you see the slides?)...

Modelling

Airfix are in administration. According to the BBC News at One today, the reason for their demise is that children now spend their time watching TV or playing computer games rather than building Airfix models.

I built one or two Airfix models as a child - plastic aeroplanes, assembled with glue and then painted. I especially enjoyed tugging tiny plastic pieces from their mould without losing them - some were teeny

Anyhow, I must remember to stock up on a few models whilst they are still in the shops - for Mikey for the future. I bet everyone will do that now - they'll fly off the shelves and sales will never have been so good. (The same thing hapened when C&A announced that they were closing - sales reached record highs in their last 6 months).

Exercise

I was once present at a discussion between two vicars (this is a true story). They seemed to be struggling to get the conversation going. In an attempt to do so, one said to the other, in a very measured way and with a lot of emphasis on the verb, "have you exorcised lately?". It really made me laugh (but not out loud). You know how things do.... sometimes......tickle you.....

I think you probably had to be there.

I have exercised lately. I wonder how you'll react to that statement of fact. You see, if I am doing something amiss or not doing something "I should be doing", I feel a whole lot better if a friend admits to sharing the same problem. So, for example, if I were to say to a friend that my left leg was falling off, I'd feel a whole lot better if she were to reply that hers was too. For some reason, the fact that my left leg's dropping off becomes much less of a problem to me if someone else's is too. So when I'm not exercising at all, for months on end, I feel a whole lot better if I learn that a friend is also not exercising. The LAST thing I want to hear, when I'm not exercising for months on end, is that someone else is...

Anyway, after months of doing very little, I have now bitten the bullet (thanks to my blogging pal Supergroup and her readers who've given me lots of lovely encouragement and support) and I've (a) returned to karate and (b) started to do sit-ups and press-ups every other day (on account of being too stiff to do them on the off-days - recovering from the on-days).

My husband is also encouraging me with this - although I draw the line at having him present when I press- and sit-up. No way. (For a start, I don't want anyone telling me my press-ups are "not", as my arms barely bend and my nose shifts a mere millimetre up and down as I do them).

I feel better for all this, I really do - much happier. And the more you exercise, the more you want to exercise. I was doing hand-stands in the park the other day (I love being nearly 40 - all inhibitions have now just about vanished).

When I posted about my proposed dietary regime a short while back I thought that my proposal number three (which was basically 'do some exercise') was the one I'd fail to achieve. As it is, it's the other two resolutions (whatever they were...!!!????) that I've probably fallen down on...

The Average Englishman is Born A Double Whiskey Below Parr

I have just consumed 4 units of bubbly wine which means I'm up to parr - and I have to say, it feels totally wonderful! I wish that I always felt this way. All smiley and relaxed. Of course, I now have to do battle with my desire for another couple of units. That would be bad news - all silly and slurry and, tomorrow, all dehydrated.

Last night's Proms was wonderful (but then I'd enjoyed a glass of champagne on the way in). Mmm, do I sound like a bit of a...

Three great things about yesterday evening:
(1) Glass of champagne in fabulous company before the concert began
(2) Mozart's Requiem. Now, anyone who goes to the Proms has probably heard this Requiem at least 20 times and sung in it at least twice, and it was performed with this attitude: "we know you know it; we know you love it; we're not going to dwell on it; we'll merely remind you of it; here it is, at quite a pace." wwwhooooo - they whizzed through it - it was brilliant!!!
(3) My dear, dear husband collected me from the Royal Albert Hall, with two sleeping children in the back of the car, which saved me from the scary journey home on the tube late at night and meant that I got to see London at night - all lit up!

That's it for me, proms-wise. I have to wait for next year now. But I am so grateful to my sister for taking me to three of them this year. I had forgotten how fantastic and magical live orchestral and organ and choral music is.

Urban Jungle

Today, whilst walking down the road, I saw a fox. It ran across the road ahead of me. "Did you see that fox?" I asked Michael (age 4), who was with me. "A fox?" he replied. "Without its owner?" Sometimes they surprise you with what they know; at other times they surprise you with what they've yet to learn....

The fox then re-emerged and ran really quickly up the opposite pavement. I was a little scared. It didn't look like your standard fox - it was smaller, leaner, had a white tail-end and its nose was odd. I wondered if it might be a jackal. Sometimes I surprise myself with what I know; at other times I surprise myself with what I've yet to learn...

And spell-check that jackal. Oh, I was right. And publish.

P.S. Are foxes dangerous?

We're blogging along (to be sung to the tune used in 'Bits and Bobs" - Anne'll know what I mean....)

There are some things in life that I'll never be able to do. I don't think I'll ever be able to dive into the pool off a board, I'll never win the X-Factor, and it seems I'll never be able to produce a nice list of links to my favourite blogs down the right hand side of this blog. It's just not happening.

Lately, I've come across a fair few good'uns, most of them theological. Now there are one or two blogs that are havens of tranquility. They attract only a few comments - they are peaceful places; inciteful, intellectual, informative, but peaceful. And I love you all, really I do, but you're a rowdy lot sometimes and I'm afraid I'm not going to take you to these - not without first asking the permission of the authors!

Anyway here are four others and if you DO visit them, I want best behaviour please! (Seriously, I do love you all and I'm learning a lot from your debates - I'm also developing quite a passion for all things theological and biblical):

www.faith-theology.blogspot.com
www.bigbulkyanglican.typepad.com
www.absolutewisdom.blogspot.com

and finally, none of you will want to visit this one, but it was quite a find for me:

www,corrieblog.TV

One - Oh - One

This is post number 101 and I'll be glad when I'm through with it because I hate the number 1. If I look at a digital clock to see the time and it's 'something - oh - one', I feel it's bad luck and I have to wait till 'oh - three' before I can break the spell. If it's on the hour when I look at the time, that's good luck.

So let's get on with this post and get it out of the way.

I have had three pleasures this weekend.

One was going to The Proms at the Royal Albert Hall with that culture vulture of a sister of mine. A Russian orchestra played Russian music and, by golly it were good (and I had a swivel chair on row 1 of the stalls - quite the best thing ever - a swivel chair!!!). This, in particular, was quite the best piece of orchestral music I've ever listened to: Sibelius, Violin Concerto in D minor (33 mins). It was pure wellie from start to finish and the violin soloist had to bow like billeo, but in doing so he produced, along with the orchestral accompaniment, quite the most exquisit piece of music I've ever heard. It was frantic and yet profound all at the same time, and so melodic, soooo soooooo melodic, - and we were off to a fine start thanks to the woman right next to me (presumably Russian) who SHOUTED OUT, just as the conductor lifted his hands to commence the magic: "PLAY, MAESTRO, AND REMIND US OF WHY THOSE DEAD RUSSIANS ARE ALL IMMORTAL". (You see they also played Shostakovich: Symphony No. 13 in B flat minor, 'Babi Yar', a harrowing choral symphony inspired by the Nazi-led massacre of Jews at Babi Yar in September 1941 - a work which implicitly also questioned the ethics of the Soviet state.

It was shown on BBC2 - you may have seen me clapping my head off on the front row there....

Two: visiting said sister in new and gorgeous little flat just off Goodge Street, a stone's throw from Telecom Tower, Oxford Circus and a cluster of the most diverse and gorgeous looking restaurants I've seen in a long time, if ever. Oh yes - what a pad, what a location!

Three: and I'm going to whisper this because I'd planned to steer off religion on my blog for a little while - I read Rowan Williams "Silence and Honey Cakes". Desert Fathers and Mothers spent years in solitude in Egypt, comtemplating life and God - and we can glean some of the wisdom they derived from this (which is still very much applicable to us today) via the lucid and highly acclaimed theologian and ABC, Rowan Williams. A gem from start to finish (it ends with some very illuminating Q and As). I'd been meaning to read it for ages and thanks in part to my blog mates who feed my desire to know more about theology (even if it's an uncomfortable ride sometimes), I read it yesterday.

And she scores her century

This is my one hundredth post! And I'd like to use it to say thank you to everyone who has ever commented on any of my posts (except, perhaps, the spammer who wanted to sell condoms). I have met some really lovely people through blogging and I have received some absolute pearls of wisdom - I always visit the blogs of those who comment on me - and I can categorically say that you are a WONDERFUL CROWD!

Now here's a thing: any of you watch "The F Word" with Gordon Ramsey (sorry if you live abroad - you won't get the programme I don't think - although that doesn't preclude you from joining in)?

GR needs teams of 4 people to cook in his kitchen whilst he effs, blinds and belittles them - there's a sort of competition week on week to see which team produces the best three course meal for his restaurant guests (as scored by the restaurant guests). It's a test of (1) culinary skills, and (2) most importantly - ability to function under pressure. I'd love to take part but need three others - and we have to have something in common (so you get: brothers, nurses, etc.) How about 4 bloggers???

Lots of love from me, and here's to another 100 posts!

Yeah but no but yeah but no but ... I don't rightly know, Rita

I'm surprised my backside isn't chaffed, I spend so much of my time sitting on the fence. I am one of life's 'don't knows' really.

I'm not sure whether I'm a Christian, a humanist or an agnostic. Apparently I need to condemn homosexuality to be a Christian; I can't bring myself to join an organisistion that (a) doesn't believe in God and (b) has Claire Raynor as its president, so I can't be a Humanist; and so maybe I'm an agnostic - God knows what I am.

I'm not quite sure of where I stand on many of life's important issues. Most importantly (to me) I'm not sure whether I'm bringing my children up correctly (do I expect too much of them (sometimes I think I do), do I expect too little of them(sometimes I think I do - like every time Michael leaves the table without asking to be excused), do they see too much TV, do I pressurize them into reading too much, do I pounce too heavily each time I see them express the slightest bit of interest in anything (this is the mother who bought her 20 mth old daughter a trampoleeeny type thing today because she likes jumping and I can see her being a future olympic gold medalist trampoleeeeeny type person (do they do trampoleeeeeeeening in the olympix???. I mean sport is really not my thing, but at this early stage I really think it might be hers and I'm out to enable and encourage....)

Food and nutrition - read widely on this subject, but still don't know whether brazil nuts are good or bad for you

Jobs: would like to contribute to the family income(and will have to at some point as dearest husband will retire in the not too distant future and I must, by then, be earning a crust) but want to be home when the children are, in order to provide them with motherly tlc and a square meal (if I can be certain of what a square meal constitutes)

Keep fit - not quite sure what to do about this one (but my dearest internet friend Supergroup7 is on the case! - thank blog for that!)

The World In General: I REALLY don't know. To what extent are we manipulated by the media? To what extent is any Government so power crazy that they would convince us that we are in grave danger from terrorism / bird flu / AOB just so that they can supress us all / hide truths / pass repressive legislation?

Do I fret about all this? Not really. Yes and no. Sometimes.

But hey. What can you do?

And another thing...

...and then I'll say no more on parenting for a while. I need help: I am finding it hard to cook food that my children will eat. The older and more independent Isabel is becoming (now 20 months), the longer I can spend in the kitchen cooking "lovely stuff" (as I rather enjoy cooking actually) and the longer I spend preparing yummy food, the less likely they are to eat it. Every three days, or even more frequently, I have to revert to my pasta in tomato sauce (you know the one: fry garlic and onion, add tinned/fresh toms plus herbs and simmer)just so that they'll have at least one proper meal from time to time. Otherwise it's just ending up in the bin.

:-(

I have children-related recipe books, but I'd welcome any other ideas on what children love to eat.

In exchange for those, I'll share a totally wonderful, sin-free (nay, actually positively good for you) recipe for a biscuit:

oats (oooh I don't know, about 2 - 3 mugs), 2 x mashed bananas, two tabs olive oil, 1 pkt chopped walnuts; 4 x chopped dates (buy organic - this is an eg. of where organic is def. superior). Blend, "biscuitize" (you know what I mean) onto lined baking tray, and bake for about 20 mins at 200 deg c (in our oven anyway - perhaps less time in yours).

Enjoy.

Soap Box

"Coronation Street" is the most watched TV programme in GB, with an audience of 11 - 13 million. I am concerned about a recent scene.

Teen-mum was being fitted for her wedding dress. Great-Grandma was at the fitting, mother was walking the street and happened to mention to someone that uncle was "out". So who was looking after the baby?

They do this a lot in TV drama. People have babies and then, the next minute, go to the pub to celebrate, without so much as a mention of where the baby is, never mind who's caring for it and feeding it.

Claire (in the same soap) recently gave birth. She was about to take the baby in a pram onto a bus, to do some shopping. "Let me look after him," said a kindly Audrey. "OK," came the reply and the pram was passed from Claire to Audrey and she was off to the bus and away. What about feeds? What about nappies?

I think that popular TV dramas like this dangerously conceal the degree to which having a baby impacts upon your life. Not good when we have the highest rate of teenage pregnancies in Europe.

Being Mum

Before having children, I used to raise an eyebrow (yes - I can do that) when I heard women say "I feel like a really bad mum". No mum is a bad mum. Neither are they a good mum. I mean it's irrelevant. Every mum is the very best mum for their children to have. We all have our off-days but...if you are a mum and you are reading this, then you are the very, very best your children could have, simply because you are their mum.

Now that I am a mum, I realise why mothers come out with that phrase, and I'm ashamed to admit to using it myself from time to time.

How and when, though, can you evaluate your parenting skills? I do so practically every day. However, I believe that no parent can really know how "successful" they have been until .... when? I don't know. Is it when the child turns 18 and leaves home? 21 and graduates? 30? 40? 50? Never?

Anne and I had an interesting discussion about what we want for our children - she gave an excellent response that she has outlined in her most recent post on her blog. She hoped that her children would be inspired; inspired by something. I share this vision for mine. I'll elaborate: I'd like them to be passionate about something, or even lots of things (I'm not extremely passionate about any one thing, but I am quite passionate about a lot of things). The greatest joy of parenting for me is introducing my children to things that they may become passionate about: music, photography, aeroplanes, books, paints, mending things, anything and everything. At the moment, Isabel (age 20 months) loves jumping and Michael (age 4) loves laptops. And if there isn't a laptop about the place, he makes them out of books, boxes, you name it....

Anyway, I am going to give a good deal more thought to this. What are my objectives as a parent? What is my vision? (I'm not talking about what I want my children to end up doing or being as that's not a matter for me). I do know though (from my days as a management trainer) that you can not evaluate your success in any role unless you have established clear objectives against which to measure yourself.

It's hard, being a mum. But I think that thinking that is a good sign!

Action Required

Could I suggest that you visit:

http://sarahcontrary.blogspot.com/

and read her latest post on the situation in the Middle east. It takes no time at all to sign the petition that she flags up.

Many thanks.