Part two of a Summer in pictures.

There was a lot of driving.

Some very intense cricket. Can't even claim it be clean and non-cheaty as I recall people running off with the shoes being used as stumps while the batsman ran up & down the pitch.

A little light sock knitting while the terences and my assistant ran themselves ragged down at Hengistbury Head. Weather stayed crubbish right up until we were driving away.

Do not be fooled by blue tinge to sky, this picture was taken in the few seconds between drizzley rain and very thick wet air.

But on the upside there was the most mahoosive bowl of popcorn ever made! Princess C-W was out playing ladies who lunch so d/Boy and I watched a movie. And ate A LOT of popcorn.

There was a lollipop incident for which I shall be dobbing CK in to the dentist.

And then there was the Festival of Quilts. Maria did the decent thing again and did all the driving while I continued on CK's 'plane socks'.

As well as a few horrors I refused to break my lens by photographing there were many fabulous creations.

This one just made me smile.

*NEWSFLASH* Assistant denied chance to fulfill destiny

Eeeeeeeeuuw!

Just looked out window while washing dishes and saw socking great big cheeky skinny-tailed squirrel saunter onto grass, turn back toward shed before heading out across the Lower 40 and in behind the compost bin.

Part of me wants to let my assistant out to unleash the full force of her combined Highland heritage upon its Rattus norvegicus hide.

The other part has locked the front door and is glad she is asleep on the couch after a solid walk with Princess Curly Wurly this afternoon.

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CK has just informed there are at least two and they seem to have set up home in the shed.

:-#

Weird small world

As a family we like to watch 'Tonight's the Night' on Saturday night.

Not only to enjoy the heartwarming stories and John Barrowman's corny lead-ins but to massively take the rip from the over-the-top performances, dodgey clothing of superstars, 'expertly critique' the performances of West End dancers and other such activities as may lead to familial hysteria before bedtime.

Imagine my surprise tonight when a 'face' was pulled from the crowd to be sung at by John Barrowman and it turned out to belong to a man I used to work with!

Princess C-W and destructoBoy were beside themselves with laughter.

Part one of a Summer in pictures.

Hilltop visit by very clever, talented and funny famous author.

Teary farewells at the end of primary school.

Long cool drinks required to survive those hot days.
(honest we DID have some)

Fridge fascists at work. Princess Curly Wurly tidied and cleaned the fridge. Eveything being put back in was given an exact spot that corresponded with the map attached to the front of the fridge. Map complete with demands for compliance OR ELSE. Even now a month later CK remains in fear of putting things in the wrong place.

Purchase made on behalf of Missus Moog last Saturday at the Festival of Quilts in Birmingham.

Sad news today

I received an email imparting sad news this morning.



Unconsciously it coloured how I have dealt with my children all day.



I have been quite mean.



Perhaps I shall be more pleasant tomorrow.



I shall definitely shed more tears.

Woohoo! Problem sorted.

18 sleeps left until d/Boy's birthday and we have the present situation under control with much love and gratitude to Messrs Google and Amazon.

Nerf - tick
Dr. Who - tick

Gadget - tick

Boring clothing things your mother insists you get for birthdays - tick

Assorted other item to make a cracking sized birthday parcel -tick

Now just the birthday jaunt to the seaside to organise.

Thank you all for your fabulous suggestions, with only four months until Christmas they have been stored for future reference ;-)

Ow! My head hurts.

Have just been listening to Kathy Burke on Desert Island Discs.

A few of her choices were punk.

destructoBoy asked me what 'punk' meant.

As a result he now has a greater understanding of his social history and we both have sore heads.

My kids went to the Isle of Wight and all I got was ...

... this black eye.

Do you like it?

Do you wanna see a close-up?

Rotten blurry kid.

Sunday afternoon as everyone was lolling around recovering from the week of holiday I pushed open the door into the living room just as Princess C-W turned suddenly.

BAM!

Next thing I know I am on the floor with a black eye starting to form.

Wanna see?

I think my girl has a career in make-up artistry beckoning.

They are so realistic looking and fabulous fun to do.

This is destructoBoy's self-inflicted knee 'injury' or 'bruisescar' as it is also known he tells me.

All done with judicious application of eyeshadow and some gentle blending.

Hours of fun for the whole family. Except CK who is a grump and did not find it either funny or smart.

Less than a month left and am asking for help.

destructoBoy is having a birthday in less than a month and we have absolutely no idea of what to get him.

My boy is turning nine and loves nothing better than to run around either before, during or after hitting/kicking or throwing a ball. We have sufficient Lego to build our own theme park. And there are already three dogs, a bike, seven computers, two mobile phones and a Wii inside our gates, I don't intend adding to it.




Anyone got any ideas?









Anyone?

Open letter to BT

Dear BT Customer Services and Billing Departments,

I hate you. I hate your faux friendliness. I hate the computer voice you have on the hideous automated service when I phone up to pay my bill. I accept that you are unable to provide me with my account number for security reasons as mine is not the name on the bill, but I hate that I have to explain this to three different people during a ten minute conversation to try and get someone to help me give you my money.

Have you deliberately set out to stress, annoy and irritate your customer base? I acknowledge that your response in anwering phone calls is speedy but this quickness is offset by me being channelled directly into the aforementioned naseauating automated system.

By making it so difficult to share a conversation with a real live person you have forced me to compromise my moral wellbeing. You see, when the computer voice so clearly enunciates my options I bypass the ones that would take me further into the maze of 'press 1 for payment, press two for cow-prodding, press 3 for small green spaceship spotting and press 4 to return to the original menu' and head straight for the ones that I know will end up with a real live person at the other end eventually. So thank you for your concern but no I really don't have a problem with a fault on my line or nuisance calls I just want to pay my bloody bill!

Bugger! New excuse required.

Day One of my 'solo at home holiday' was taken up with heading into the Big Smoke for an appointment with the Audiologist.

Turns out my hearing is not only normal but quite good.

Bugger! Bugger! Bugger!

Now how am I going to explain not hearing family when they whine and grizzle at me?

Occurred to me last night that my daughter is not that girl.

You know, the girl who plays football with the boys throughout her teenage years. The one who fights for the ball during a silly game in the pool even when it goes to the deep end and all the other girls have long since got out and are sitting in the sun watching.

No, no. My daughter will be the girl who figures out flirting but still rolls her eyes when the others go all simpery and silly. She will be the one who gets along with the boys but doesn't take any crap from them. She will be the one who takes a smart-arse boy out at the knees with a well-aimed sharp comment but will also be the one who takes the time to listen to the shy ones.

I think she will be the girl who survives her teenage years relatively unscathed. Her father on the other hand is out building a tower for her as I type. I think it is time she started growing her hair again.