Nothing much

As I was in the bathroom this morning, I was listening to Sarah Kennedy on Radio Two. "The Sky at Night is the longest running programme to still have it's original presenter, Sir Patrick Moore." Go Patrick!

A little later, I was vegetating in front of GMTV whilst eating my breakfast. I find thinking and concentrating at this time of day too hard. Some chap, (a complete madman in my book) was filming himself skydiving when it all went horribly wrong. We watched as the ground spun towards us at break neck speed, then the screen went blank as he hit the deck. Could be messy. His friend, who was also videoing whilst skydiving, lands safely and runs towards his friend, who has landed in six foot of brambles.

"Mate, speak to me. Are you ok?"

"No."

Talk about a silly question with a totally deadpan reply, this had me rolling around with tears streaming down my face.

(He escaped with a punctured lung and a smashed ankle.)

Nothing much has happened round here today.

Having a bit of a splurge

I popped into my local Millets last week, (doesn't everyone?) and spied a rather nice, PINK, ladies fit, 60-65lt rucksack. I didn't buy it, but I went home and told hubby all about it. Ofcourse, his reply was, "You should have bought it." Typical! I was trying to be frugal. So, I cagged a lift back the very next day and bought it. Along with a green, 65lt male version. So that all goes rather nicely with our new tent.

Reason being? Well, our trek into the wilderness, (well, close to the Cairngorms actually) is almost becoming a reality. I'm still not convinced that we'll get to do the Eastern Cairngorm Challenge, but as my sister and brother-in-law have decided to take the children to Gairloch for a few days without us in the summer, I thought we could make good use of the time. So, we are catching a bus to Aviemore, then onto Glenmore and camping overnight. Then we'll walk through the Ryvoan Pass to Nethy Bridge and onto Grantown on Spey, roughly 15 miles, (although I need to check that one) camp there, then walk along the Dava Way to Forres and home, roughly 21 miles. (Ouch.) I decided the Ryvoan Pass was a little more scenic than the Speyway from Aviemore to Grantown and we've done part of it before. Last time we saw a Red Deer stag, (a little too close for comfort as it was during the rutt...) and a pair of Roe deer, not to mention one or two other little delights.

Excited, me? I have made one or two lists and planning how I can travel light, seeing as I've got to carry my own rucksack with part of a tent, a sleeping bag and a roll mat. Not to mention the primus stove, a kettle, knife and fork...

Yes, I'm excited.

And I've got to wait until the second week in July.

Oh boy.

A little 'silent' poetry reading

I've been to Annes' Blog and she's taking part in this wonderful idea of a silent poetry reading. Just leave a comment and post a poem on your blog, your favourite or even one of your own!

I found it hard to choose, my favourite Wilfred Owen, from English Lit days, one of my own, (but I already have a blog for that!) or a good one for a nice Friday, like this one...

Breavin' on the Window-pane

It's cold an' grey an' still outside,
And everything is wet with rain.
I'm standing on the cushion seat,
And breavin' on the window-pane.
An' drawin' pictures with me 'and.
The window's high against the sky-
I can't see out unless I stand.

I've drawn a house an' chimley-pot;
I've drawn a man an' child'en too,
A napple an' a toasting fork,
An' someone who is jus' like you,
And Gran'ma sittin' in the rain.
The pane's so small I've filled it all,
And 'specks I'll have to breave again.

But Jane has spoilt it now; she says
I want a whippin'-an' I don't.
She's rubbed the window clean, and says
She'll fetch a policeman-but she won't.
And now she's gone downstairs again
I'm breavin' on the window-pane.
I'll draw a nugly one of Jane.

Plans to be made

I've been hoping to complete the Eastern Cairngorm Challenge, if there is one this year. It's around 14 miles long over slightly hilly (!!?) terrain, it starts just north of Dundee and goes North West to Braemar and I'd really like to do it. I had thought it wasn't going to happen, because I had no idea what I was going to do with the children. The logistics of not having a car was proving to be a problem, however, one of my good friends has come to the rescue. In return for having her boys for a sleepover one night in February, she will come and stay here with my children for a weekend. Sorted!

Now I can get really excited.

And look at maps.

And decide whether to camp after the walk, (there is a ceilidh, I will attend. I may not ceilidh...) or treat ourselves to a night in an (albeit cheap) hotel, so I can have a long, hot bath.

Decisions, decisions.

If there is no challenge this year, (last year was an inaugural event for the opening of the 'new' path, Jock's Road) I may still persuade Jo to look after the children, so David and I can catch a train to Aviemore, camp, walk to Grantown-on-Spey along the Speyside way, camp, walk along the Grantown to Forres disused railway, which sounds dull, but has been made into a beautiful walk, the Dava Way, through woods and over moorland with fab views and wildlife. Still not quite camping wild, but practicing till I'm really ready for it.

I'll keep my eyes peeled on the website for the dates.

They know, ya know

Yes they do.

Do you know how I know they know?

Because over the weekend, there wasn't a huge amount of bird activity in my garden, but enough do the survey, just not representative of my usual variety.

Today? Oh yes, today. There where scores of birds. Of all varieties, including the ones that usually turn up that didn't this weekend. Nothing exciting, just sparrows, greenfinches, those sorts of things.

Typical. Humph.

Had a nice day today though. Strolled into Forres for some bits and pieces and bumped into a friend in the school playground that I haven't seen for a while, so we've decided we need to get together properly sometime. I had a text from another friend, inviting herself round for coffee tomorrow morning, but it will be lovely to spend sometime together with no children (or other interruptions!) for a change. I had to bake some bread today, so I made some oatmeal cookies at the same time.

I might share.

I might not...

Stamping feet

Just a few things that are bugging me and I need to stamp my feet on my soap box to get it off my chest. I've probably mentioned one or two before, but never mind.

On Friday evening, another two young lives were lost in a car crash, just outside Forres on a notoriously accident prone road. Both 17 years of age, both male, with the three other occupants of the car escaping with minor injuries. All extremely tragic but frighteningly commonplace.

I don't think there is any one solution to this, but my idea would be to limit the cc of a car that a young/inexperienced driver can own or have access to, similar to the limit put on motorbike ownership. This would include not being allowed on a parent's insurance so that an inexperienced driver can't borrow daddy's BMW and then wrap it around the nearest tree.

My other main bugbear has always been education. I'm all for equal opportunities, but to me this means clever pupils from a poor financial background are still able to follow on to further education should they want to. At present, I feel it simply means that the standard of education has been lowered to allow those that do not have a good enough academic standard to go on to University. This is perhaps a rather broad generalisation, but it is the impression I get. Also, the idea that children should not be streamed so that the children in lower sets don't feel worthless. Children certainly shouldn't be made to feel worthless, but at the same time, if streamed, children at the same level can be educated at a speed and standard that suits all in the class, rather than trying to teach a mixture of levels and speeds when someone is bound to miss out.

Anyway, that's all in my humble opinion and is enough to start with. I have more, but for another time, when the ironing isn't screaming at me!

The Birds (cont.)

07.40
It's so dark this morning, I can't see outside yet. This doesn't bode well as, if it is a dark, miserable day, the birds may well decide to stay away. In their droves. Should have done this yesterday.

As soon as it starts to get a bit lighter, I think I shall have to nip out and fill the feeder, I think it's been so blown about in the night that it has emptied it's contents on the floor. Only problem with that is, it's throwing it down out there, blowing a gale and I'm still in my pjs. Not to mention the rest of the household are still in bed, so I'm trying to be quiet. Ish.

13.30
So, I did quite a good count this morning, but I knew a few of my regulars were missing, so I decided to do another one now, and send in the results of the count most representative of the birds I regularly get in my garden.

15.00
I decided that last count had more of my regulars, so that is the one I submitted. Feel much better about it this year, a robin and two blackbirds has been a previous best and that just wasn't good enough.

Anyway, I have time for one more post on an entirely different subject before I get the ironing done and make a lovely Roast Pork dinner. Haven't had one of those in a while.

I wonder if I can squeeze in a snooze? (It's my age you know, I just can't help nodding off in the afternoon.)

The Birds

08.11
Well actually, the complete opposite. Yet again, come RSPB Big Garden Birdwatch, the birds are conspiring against me and my garden is devoid of birds. Not a single sparrow. My birdfeeders are full, there are apple cores on the bird table, there is water in the bird bath, but there are no birds in my garden. Usually I see them in the dull light just after dawn as I come down to make breakfast, just after seven. Not a dicky.

They are playing with me.

I'll be back. (Oh no, that's the wrong film...)

08.35
Ok, so now I have a few very aggressive birds in the garden, including a dunnock with serious attitude! But I've just realised, I can't do it now. Not only is my mother going to ring, as usual, around five minutes past nine, but my two youngest have been invited out for the day and are going to be picked up some time after ten, so I need to organise their breakfast and getting dressed. Where is hubby, you might be asking, can't he do that so I can concentrate?

Well, he can, but he might find it a little hard from his bed.

Humph.

17.05
It's getting a bit dark now. I haven't done my count. My family are now conspiring against me! My mother rang just after nine to say she won't speak to me today, she'll call tomorrow. Then there's the rest of the family. Or perhaps it's my own weak willpower.

You see, (beware, pathetic excuse coming) around twelve, Aedan's friend phoned to ask if he'd like to go for a sleepover, so I quickly had to get him lunch and supervise his bag packing* and at the time I was half way through a bread dough for pizza. After Aedan left, I realised it was an ideal opportunity for David and I to take our eldest daughter out for lunch. So, we donned our walking boots and jackets and off we went to Findhorn. Again. There's a nice pub there, good food, real ale, yum.

I was persuaded we should catch the bus home, (shame on hubby) but then friends stopped in their car and asked if we'd like a lift. Did we need to be asked twice?

No. So, now it's too dark and I've still got a bread dough to convert into pizza.

I'll do it tomorrow. I will! You'll see.

* I recently discovered that Aedan can take things a little literally. I told him to 'get his bag ready' to go for a sleepover at Robert's. A few minutes later, I asked if he'd got clean pyjamas and underwear. Aedan's reply?:
"Oh, you meant pack it. I thought you meant find it."

One empty bag sitting at the bottom of the stairs...

All for a good cause

Now, did you know that this weekend is the RSPB Big Garden Birdwatch? All you have to do is sit for an hour sometime over the weekend, counting the birds that visit your garden. Not just hopping on the fence or flying over, but actually alight in your garden. You just count the largest number of any one type of bird at any one time, so if the largest group of chaffinches is eight, then that is the figure entered and so on. All the information can be found on the RSPB website, www.rspb.org.uk, so take a look.

I have done this for the past few years, with or without the children's 'help' and I do get satisfaction from taking part and providing useful information about my local bird population.

Or at least, I would, except for one thing.

The birds don't come to play when I need to count them.

I feed my birds, regularly, often daily, depending on the weather and they have a bird bath to boot. I put out allsorts, from commercial wild bird food, to apple cores and cheese scraps, but nothing too big, I don't want to attract rooks and seagulls. I do it all right, all year round.

But they know.

I can go for weeks with scores of chaffinches, greenfinches, blackbirds, sparrows, robin, dunnock, wrens, I even had a juvenile blackcap the other day. The siskins aren't around much because it's not cold enough, (!!?) but I have regular identifiable visitors.

They just don't like to stand up and be counted. One robin and a blackbird is not a true representation of the birds I get. So I didn't send my results that year.

This year I am determined I will have a garden full of birds, all varieties and maybe a visit from the sparrowhawk right the end of my count, so as not to upset the numbers too much.

They do know you know.

Another Conall classic

On seeing their dinner, another first time dish, Conall exclaimed, (with just a hint of disgust):
"Chips and peanut butter!"

...it was actually Tuna Melt Potato Wedges.

I ask you, as if I would!

The verdict, btw?

"Mmm, yum!"

Going a little mad

I've just bought a new tent.

Yup. Another one.

This one, (for those of you that know I recently bought a tent...) however, is a little smaller.

In fact, it's the complete opposite to the last one.

This is a two man tent, (or in our case, a married couple tent!) and it has a hydrostatic head of 5000mm. That's impressive, I promise. It means we'll be cosy, (for cosy, read cramped) and dry. I won't be able to stand up to get changed and having an argument and falling out is not an option!

Hopefully, we will get the occasional opportunity to go away by ourselves, do some more strenuous walks without the children and take up less space at the campsite!

I will post photographs when I have some.

And it's still not snowing up here. Not a flake. Very disappointing.

Just a stroll

I wish!

David had the day off yesterday, so as the children were at school, we decided to go for a walk. From here to Findhorn, (again) then east along the beach past the back of the base and to Roseisle, a rather nice forestry commision bit with a beach. We sat and ate our lunch there while watching a treecreeper, then walked back to Findhorn.

If we hadn't have stopped at the pub there for pint and a plate of chips (yum. Real ale and chips) we wouldn't have had to route march the last two miles home in time to collect Conall from school. Actually four hours and ten minutes on the move to cover fifteen miles. Not bad, I thought.

Going to regret it tomorrow, I think.

Have you ever noticed how it takes two days for exercise to catch up with you?!

Yes!

Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!
(Accompanied by funny little tribal dance, with hands, arms, legs and everything.)









Just incase you were wondering, the children went back to school today with no stress/fighting/lateness/forgotten items.

Yes!

And another

We went for a stroll today, two and a half miles to Findhorn, a walk along the beach and then home again, so around six miles I suppose, but all on the flat, so nice and easy. Didn't take too long either, just over two hours, including a hula hoop stop on the beach.

On the way back, a little voice piped up:
"My feet are as hot as an elephant..."

What?

Smile

Olly Smith, the wine expert for Saturday Kitchen, (James, James, James!) has been at it again. Whilst describing a wine this morning, he declared it made him want to "Clench my bottom cheeks in time to the National Anthem." Oh, what a description, the images it summons up, fabulous! I would go out and get some, but he was talking about a Reisling, which I just can't get into, so no bottom cheek clenching for me.

Phew!

So a little later, sat sitting watching Rachel's Food, David asked Conall,
"Which chef is that?"
"Don't know." Conall replied.
"That's Rachel, who's the other chef?" says David.
"James Bond." replied Conall, knowlegdeably...

So that's Christmas 2007 sorted

No, I haven't hit the sales and bought cards, wrapping paper and gifts well in advance, (not even I am that organised!) but I have decided what gifts I will buy for friends and family this Christmas.

Trees.

Yep, you read that right. Trees.

I was inspired by one of my sil's Christmas gift last year, (last year already?) of buying a breeze block for each family member to build a school in an African country, organised by her local Catholic church.

Now, that was a lovely idea, but you know me, all things environment are my thing. So, this year, I will be buying trees for my family and friends. Probably not tagged or with a plaque, because then I can buy more!

Might even get one for David.

And me!

Sorted.

2007!

Just couldn't resist my first post just after the bells, listening to a wonderful pipe and drums band on the telly, very scottish. Lots of fireworks too, just as the children go to bed, (yes, they made it!) deep joy.

All the best, one and all!

xx

UPDATE

Just noticed my deliberate (!!) mistake. I drafted the previous post on Saturday. Then published it on Sunday.

My nickname is Donkey...

Happy Hogmanay!

Wishing all my family, friends, virtual friends and fellow bloggers

all the best for the New Year, 2007!

(Sorry, couldn't decide between the photographs, both were a bit of fun!)

Well, that's that then...

That was it. Christmas. Been and gone for another year. Has to be, because we've just had the obligatory turkey (and sweetcorn) soup for lunch and it's Turkey Pilaff on the menu for dinner. Turkey Curry on Friday. So, it must be the day after Boxing Day, fil's birthday, (mustn't forget the phone call...).

Rhiannon was sick all day Christmas Eve, but was a little better and joined us Christmas Day, although she didn't each much. She's almost back to herself now. Aedan is away with our ex-neighbour's step-dad fishing, so he's happy and it's quiet round here. My cold is nearly gone, so I'm a happier bunny too. Marvelous.

To top it all off, I've remembered to go next door and feed the two cats, kitten and rabbit while my friend is away. Litter trays. Yuk. I'm afraid I've had to undecorate their Christmas tree, I was spending more time picking up baubles and lametta then playing with the kitten, which was becoming a bit of a vicious circle, so the decorations are in a cardboard box in the garage, out of harms way. Dread to think what she'll find to play with next.

Anyway, back to the Monopoly board, or Cluedo, or whatever I get dragged into next...

Excitement!

But nothing to do with Christmas. More of a natural kind! You know me, give me a bit of nature and I'm a very happy bunny.

So, imagine my excitement when, from the dining room, a little voice murmered, "Wow!" Now, there's not much in my back garden to cause that kind of exclamation, so I thought I'd take a look and, low and behold, there is a sparrowhawk, having just caught a little snacket, landing on the ground just beneath my birdfeeder that hangs on the shed.

"Ooooo! Quick, come and look at this! Quietly..." says one very excited mother and the children stampede into the dining room. Next second, there's the neighbour's bleep bleep cat having a go at the sparrowhawk! I'm surprised I didn't put the patio door through in my anxiety, then I dashed upstairs to the boys room for a better view of the ensuing battle. There, to my utter delight, was the sparrowhawk, safely perched on the fence behind the shed with Sparky, (cat) slinking away across the stretch of grass behind the fence.

It stayed on the fence for a good few minutes, giving us a fantastic view and me reassurance that it wasn't injured after it's tussle with Sparkey. Mind you, it's snacket had escaped too, which was a blow for the sparrowhawk no doubt. According to Conall, (the little voice) the bird was taken from the fence, not from the birdfeeder, but then, I don't mind feeding up the odd little one for the sake of something so special.

The new neighbour behind us probably thinks we're a bunch of nutters, gathering in a bedroom window to watch him smoke a cigarette on his back doorstep. He couldn't see the sparrowhawk. Hey ho!

Did you know it's Christmas Eve tomorrow? I've just made my bread sauce for the first time from my own homemade bread. Mmmm, should be good! I'm half way through making the trifle, (David said a few years ago he doesn't like Christmas Pudding/Cake/mincemeat, now he tells me it's just the candied peel. I can make it without that!) and a batch of bread to keep us going over Christmas. Still have to make the mince pies for Father Christmas, (he forces himself, for the sake of tradition...) and prep a few brussels, David can do the carrots, potatoes and...

I've just realised I've slipped deeply into the realms of boring, I'll stop now and knock back my dough.

I may, or may not, be back tomorrow. If not, have a fab one and I'll be back soon!

That goose must be a bloater by now...

You know the one:

Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat,
Please put a penny in the old man's hat.
If you haven't got a penny, a ha'penny will do.
If you haven't got a ha'penny then God bless you.

Well, Christmas must be coming. It was Ciara's eighth birthday yesterday, so * today the Christmas decorations went up. The children all came in from school and said, "Ah, isn't it pretty!", including the two little girls I 'borrow' most days, which was nice, but I think I exert too much control even over the decorating of the house.

Like, noone helps.

They're not allowed to.

They might make it look a mess.

Then I realised it's a bit formal. And Christmas only appears to be in the lounge.

Might have to loosen up a bit.

* I like Ciara to have her birthday with no Christmas intrusions, then on the 18th December, she can put her cards in her bedroom and Christmas decends upon the household. Well, in the lounge apparently.

I admit it

I'm a wuss.

One of my pet hates is making phonecalls. It's okay ringing my mum, or my sister, or my hubby when he's away, but give me a situation when I don't know who's going to answer the telephone, be it a friends husband that I don't know well, (yikes), the hairdressers, the maintenance man to request a repair, a delivery man, I can't do it.

I just can't. Don't ask me to explain. I come out in a cold sweat, I feel panicky and I just can't do it.

I've just proved the point by ringing another parent to turn down an invitation for Aedan to go to a party.

Man "Hello."
Me "Oh, hello, is that Geoffrey's dad?"
Man "No, I'm his brother."
Me "Oh, I'm sorry..."

It could only be me...

I don't believe it!

Okay, so David's at 'work', my visitors have gone home, my neighbours are out, we don't have a cat and I didn't have the nerve to ask the delivery man for help.

The problem?

It has six legs too many is probably enough of a clue.

I have regressed to my teens and it is currently residing under a bin. Weighted down with the heaviest books I could find, otherwise it could shimmy underneath!

My parents once returned from their annual vacation to France to find an upturned bin in the hallway, weighted down by a large dictionary and a Roget's Thesaurus, (if you've not seen one of those, they are big!)

The occupant had been there for almost three weeks, since my parents had left me 'home alone', (okay, okay, I was nineteen at the time. Going on nine...) and it was still alive! Just.

This one will only suffer till lunchtime. Meanwhile, I can't reach the plug to plug in the iron to do the ironing for fear of knocking over the bin.

Do you think that's a good enough excuse...?

So that's how it's done Ruth!

You are 100% English.

Congratulations! You may now take your place as a subject of Her Majesty.
"And did those feetIn ancient times,Walk upon England's mountains green?And was the holy Lamb of GodIn England's pleasant pastures seen?"
Well, no, but it's a cracking good tune.

How English are you?
Create a Quiz

More visitors

I love having my sister, Cathy and brother-in-law, Ian to visit. They are such fabulous company, the children adore them and get up to all sorts, (Ian is extremely child orientated, or perhaps just fifty going on five...) but I hate it when they leave.

Time for a lovely Roast Chicken dinner with a cheeky little white to cheer me up.

Hey ho.

Sad goodbyes

Oh, alright, so I'm prone to my father's affliction of exageration.

The bulky uplift came today. Not for me, as my husband would probably suggest, (if he was certain I wasn't having a sense of humour failure...) it came for our old terracotta fabric suite, which has recently been replaced by a lovely, smart, chocolate leather suite.

So I suppose it was more a fond farewell!

(Terracotta. What was I thinking?)

As expected, my cold came to nothing more than a slightly damp nose and a tiny cough. So glad about that! Feeling bad at a weekend is eminently more desirable to a school day.

Must press on, bread to attend to, but I'm sure...

"I'll be back...!"

PS. I've been inspired again. Hadn't realised it was three months since I'd done any 'poetry'!

I'm stamping my feet on my soapbox here!

Right, now I've had enough.

I've kept quiet about this, 'cos I don't like to be controversial or offensive, (except when I've had too much wine perhaps..?) but now I'm getting quite annoyed.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but we are a Christian country by tradition. Our country. Now, I'm happy for people to live here from other countries, so long as they live by our laws and contribute to society and I'm happy for them to practice their own religion, but I'm not happy that we should compromise our beliefs and traditions in order not to offend other ethnic origins or religions!

If a Christian wishes to wear a crucifix or cross of somekind, do so. It is our country and our traditions, we are traditionally Christian.

Anyone, a company, office, business, whatever, should never 'ban' Christmas, for fear of offending other faiths. We are a Christian country! Yes, we have a multi-faith society, but we are a Christian country!

I can't bear the fact that our country is losing it's identity and traditions for fear of 'offending other faiths'. They are welcome here, but they should accept our laws and traditions, they don't have to change and celebrate them, but they are in our country. If we went to live in a foreign country, we wouldn't expect them to stop wearing their traditional dress or dumb down their festivals for risk of causing offence and they definately wouldn't think twice about whether they should, they wouldn't do it fullstop!

For those that are born and brought up here, may not even be of a different ethnic origin, but choose to follow a different religion, that's personal choice and fine, but we still don't have to change our traditions!

As you can tell, I'm a little aerated about all this and I'm sorry if I offend, but I am a very traditional person.

Step away from the soap box and breath.

The finished product

Ta da! So, what do you think? There is a lid, but it's 'behind her'.

She doesn't look too happy, does she. Oh well, better being individual than a sheep.

Baa!

Think first

Ok, so whose bright idea was it for Ciara to be a Jack-in-the-Box?

Oh yes, that would be mine then.

"You don't want to be a doll (in the school Christmas Play) Ciara, everyone will be a doll or a fairy. You should be a Jack-in-the-Box. I'll make it."

When, oh when, will I learn not to have any bright ideas.

The tunic is made. So long as it fits over Ciara's head, it'll be fine. Yes, yes, I know. Making it without a pattern or child isn't brave. It's stupid.

Ofcourse, choosing a box that I can't paint on, because I can't paint over the print on it and I can't pick the selotape off, was also pretty dim. So, I've painted a sheet of brown paper to wrap it in.

Pom poms? Yes, simple enough, except I haven't got enough gash wool in the same colour to make pom poms, but that's easily solved, by using tissue paper. Simple.

Then, there's the ruff around the neck. One white pillowcase bites the dust.

Oh, just you wait till you see this creation. Just don't laugh too loudly, I might hear you...

More growing up

They can cook too!

With the help of daddy, Rhiannon and Aedan have made the children's dinner tonight. Macaroni (well, pasta shells actually) Cheese and Fresh Fruit Salad with Ice Cream. Making a sauce is always a useful skill in the kitchen, it can be a base or accompaniment for so many things. No, they didn't make the ice cream, but maybe one day. Looks great and smells delicious.

Why aren't we having any? My thriftyness always leads to a glut of chicken wings, which the children don't like for some reason, so David and I will have Sticky Wings later, because, as usual, I forgot to get them out of the freezer and they only started to marinate at 4pm, so I'll give them about three hours before I throw them into a hot oven. I've made a cheeky wee tomato, cucumber, chilli and coriander salad for on the side too and David has just requested spicy potato wedges. Ah well, a woman's work...

Oh bless, they're clearing the table and putting the dishes in the dishwasher. Husband may not be completely housetrained, but the children will be if it kills me!

David cooked last night, to be fair, Rabbit with Apples and Cider, just a little introduction to other game for them. They've all tried venison in the past, which they seemed to like and they enjoy duck too. The boys asked to try pigeon, so for Sunday Dinner we are having Pigeon with Cabbage and Bacon, which I'm really looking forward to. The boys will give it a good try, Ciara will at least have a go, Rhiannon may not be so adventurous, but if they just try a little bite, that's enough.

I feel a nice chilled white coming on.

More excitement

That is an utter lie.

It was a very uneventful trip on a train to Inverness for Rhiannon's second appointment at the orthodontist, this time for x-rays. Now, they were exciting! A fine toy to play with the man has. You stand still, holding onto a bar in front of you with your chin on a plate while the machine goes round your head and takes the x-ray. Seconds later, you see the results on a computer screen, ta da!

The upshot of all that is Rhiannon's adult canines are not well placed and to help them come through in the correct place, the baby canines need to be taken out. Oh bum. However, our dentist will do that and we won't have to have another trip to see the nice orthodontist for another year.

By which time, we might, just might, have a new car, which will make the whole experience far easier!

The other excitement came about on our return. Two of my other children, the middle two, Aedan and Ciara, have been awarded 'Starworker of the Week' today, yey! Little stars. They get to pick the film for film night tonight and we are having Toy Story, which we haven't seen for a while.

All in all, a lovely end to a busy week.

Can I sleep now?

Indulgence

Our friends next door are buying a house, so we decided, along with our friends next door the other side, to have a get together before they move. (They're not moving far, just three miles down the road, but they won't be next door anymore and they have been such lovely neighbours.)

We decided to do a meal where we all do a course each, but just stay at the one house rather than moving about. Bev bagged the starter, so I bagged mains and Linda got pud.

Bev did a lovely Roast Parsnip soup with parmesan, it was really delicious. I did Roast Loin of Lamb with tomato and basil sauce and Dauphinoise Potatoes. Must confess, it was lush. Linda did Summer Fruit Tirimasu and I've brought mine home for breakfast!

We had a fantastic evening, superb company and fabulous food. Linda suddenly said, "Hey guys, do you realise it's 3.30am!", at which point, everybody started yawning. We came home around an hour later.

I shall miss Linda and Steve, but I'm looking forward to the house warming party!

Just a little trip

To the orthodontist with Rhiannon. She has what has delicately been described as an overbite. Quite a bit of one, actually. Probably not helped by the fact she has sucked her thumb for nearly eleven years, but has recently stopped, of her own volition.

Anyway, an appointment came through for a visit to the orthodontist today, so I hired a car, (now a car would be useful!) and off we toddled. It was in a place called Culloden, (if you know a little Scottish history, you will probably have heard of it, there was a battle there once) which isn't far, but off the bus route, so a hire car was less complicated. We used to live close by and used a dentist there, but it has changed a little in the last seven years.

The specialist was a lovely chap, who explained everything he found in Rhiannon's mouth very nicely. Or rather, what he didn't find. He didn't find Rhiannon's two upper adult canine teeth, waiting in her gums for when her baby teeth fall out. He's worried they may be far higher than they should be at this stage, which could cause problems with the treatment he'd like to use, or may be even non-existent, which would make her mouth very interesting!

I must admit, I'd thought it a little odd that Aedan has already lost two of his canines that are being replaced already. Even if all children, including siblings are different, there are only eighteen months between them and their mouths have always been entirely different. Rhiannon was eight months when she cut her first tooth, whereas Aedan was eleven weeks! He cut his tooth, got christened and caught chicken pox, started 'solids' and had his first holiday in a caravan, all in the same week. Deepest joy.

The upshot of it is, Rhiannon has another day off school next week, so we can catch a bus to Inverness for an x-ray, to find out exactly is what happening in that dear little mouth of hers.

All this excitement is too much for a girl!

Rhiannon just takes it in her stride, however...

Oh and another thing

Have you seen the new M&S clothes advert? The one with Birley Shassy? Caberet singers, ageing or otherwise, really just don't do it for me. (I think Twiggy still looks fabulous, btw.) The thought of Birley doing a rendition of Pink's 'Get This Party Started' is quite horrific, but I actually love this new advert to bits, it really made me smile.

I know, I know small things etc. etc..

One or two bits of stuff

Yet another fancy dress to do! Well, actually, that should be termed costume, as it is for the school Christmas Concert. I seem to be getting off lightly though. As I have four children at the one school, I did wonder what they were going to throw at me by way of costume requests.

Rhiannon and Conall don't know yet what they are going to be.

I must admit to panicking, just a tad, when Aedan said he's going to be a turkey, (!!!) but his teacher is working on that one, thank goodness.

Ciara has to be a toy or an elf. Not much difference between the two... Elf would have been relatively easy, except Mrs Watson wants her elves to wear green tights and we don't have any and I don't want to buy any because green tights will do Ciara's shapely little legs absolutely no favours what-so-ever.

So, she's a toy then. Everybody else is a doll. I don't think Father Christmas gives away just dolls, (and I have a tendancy to want to be different) so I'm thinking of maybe a Jack-in-the-box? Fortunately, just had my Christmas present from my parents delivered, (the obligatory box of wine from Laithwaites) so I have a handy box of a good size that won't get too much in the way of her movement.

Watch this space!

The other thing was Parkinson. I watched Parky last night and I must admit, I haven't done so for a while because I was dissapointed with him for defecting from the Beeb. Not a political thing for me, I just_can't_bear all those commercial breaks interrupting everything, just as you get to an interesting bit!

Any road up, I did and I'm so glad I did! Peter Kay, oh what a funny man. The Bolton accent is enough to have me in stitches, I just loves the sound of it, (I have a thing for strong accents. How I came to marry a Scotsman who is repeatedly mistaken for an Englishman due to his weak accent is beyond me...) but on top of that, he was sooo funny, without swearing and without racism, it was brilliant!

Then there was Take That.

Now, I was not a fan when they made it the first time. I'm not into 'boy bands' and the like. Funny thing was, I heard their new single on the radio the other day and was puzzled by it.

"This isn't Robbie's new single is it? He's only just brought that other one out!" Says I.
"No," says hubblet, "This is Take That's new one."

I think that would go down like a lead balloon, but I do actually like the single, it's just that it's like something Robbie would sing. Strange, but they did perform well.

Then, the great Sir Ian McKellern. (Have I spellt that right? Not sure.) He has just got one of those voices that makes me melt, like Richard Burton and Anthony Hopkins and, and, and all those others that I can't think of just now. See, I'm still suffering the after effects of his voice last night!

Oh yes, it was very enjoyable. Maybe I can get over the commercial break thing.

Ooops

Sitting next to a former govenor of the school, the deputy head holding forth to the school:

FG "There's a village in Scotland somewhere missing their idiot..."

End of an era

Well, the beginning of the end, anyhow.

I've just been to Rhiannon's last class assembly at Primary school. It had a Remembrance theme, which was poignant, as the first funeral of the twelve from Kinloss that died in Afghanistan is due to take place today. The daughter of this young man started nursery and school with Rhiannon.

Rhiannon's year at this primary has been unusual, as there are at least a dozen of them that have gone through the school together, from beginning to end. We have a very transient society, but I'm pleased for Rhiannon that she has been one of the few, it's given them all a good deal of stability which has had an effect across the whole year. Before the end of the summer term, they will spend more time at the Academy, our local 'secondary' school, than at primary.

My baby's all growed up!

Rubbish

I've been hearing a lot of gripes lately about bins and recycling. I understand a new system is being introduced (in North Lincolnshire?) whereby residents are given recycling boxes/bins for items such as paper and tins and other, non-recyclable waste goes into an ordinary bin, garden refuse into another. The recycling boxes are then emptied weekly and the ordinary and garden bins alternate eeks. This idea appears to have caused uproar.

Now, I can't remember when, but at least eighteen months ago, we had this system introduced locally. At the time, we had two green wheelie bins, (because I'm greedy and I pinched one from one of the empty quarters that was about to be demolished) which were both usually full every week. Now, our boxes, one for cardboard and paper, the other for bottles and tins, are emptied weekly and our green and brown bins alternate weeks. The boxes have a perfect capicity for us, even as a family of six, although I do know other families who have requested extra boxes, (but then, they are the types that live on takeaway pizza and drink lots of beer and wine...) our green bin is rarely full and we only ever put out one a fortnight, our brown bin hardly goes out at all. (I don't garden much because of the cat problem, a completely seperate gripe.)

So, it works. It is easy, but then, we have the advantage of being reasonably environmently aware and have always avoided unnecessary packaging and the like. Before this system, David often paid a visit to the local recycling centre to dispose of bottles and cardboard, now it saves him the trip.

Quite handy, considering we don't have a car anymore...

Upset

I have just read the editor's letter of the Family Circle for the first time in months, only to discover this is the last ever issue! I'm so upset. I've grown up with this magazine and I've had a subscription for the last couple of years. I've recently cancelled this, oddly enough, but was paid up until the end of the year, so have still received the last few issues. I obviously wasn't getting my monies worth, I wasn't reading it properly, as it turns out, but it was through a healthy eating plan set out in this magazine that I lost two and a half stones two years ago and my recipe file is bulging with their recipes, but no more!

I'm very upset.

(Sad, but true)

Deliveries

The parcel that I waited in for last Friday arrived today, after a second phonecall yesterday, which was lucky, because if I hadn't got David to ring again, we wouldn't have known that his first call "...hadn't been logged" and therefore, I would have been staging a futile wait as my parcel winged it's merry way back from whence it came. Anyway, it's arrived. The children can, once again, wash their hair.

Little man-in-a-van came today, which was nice. I make my order a week in advance, I am quite organised with my menu planning, so when it arrives, I've often forgotten what little treats I've ordered. Some nice little surprises sometimes.

My one query about it all is the plastic carrier bags. I do send them back with the driver to be recycled, but I'm somewhat bewildered by the amount of carrier bags used in the first place. I often have one or two items in one bag that could quite easily take several more. Sometimes I even get things in a bag that don't need to be in one at all, like the four packs of orange juice. These are encased in polythene with a handle attached, (the handle is soooo well attached, you can't get them off.) so simply don't need more packaging. Where's the enviromental awareness in this?

I've had a little fun too, just to brighten my day. I've been filing my posts and giving them labels. What joy!

Help

Please!

This may not be a topic of debate you wanted, but I need some advice. Other than, "Just don't do it!" which is tempting.

I flicked a duster around this morning, then threw the vacuum cleaner about a bit, just to look willing. Downstairs toilet, then the bathroom upstairs followed. This was all avoiding the real issue, the kitchen floor.

I despise cleaning the kitchen floor. It is a real cacky colour that never looks clean anyway and fourteen year old linoleum is pretty hard work at the best of times. However, I'd decided it must be my mop that wasn't cleaning properly and that I should make a real effort, getting down on my hands and knees with a bucket and cloth to give it a proper clean. Stupid idea that was! I didn't even have the satisfaction of the floor looking better!

So, now, the question is, is it really my choice of floor cleaner that is the problem, and, if so, what would do the job better? I thought, rather than spend a fortune trying lots of different cleaners, perhaps someone (R and A?) out there might have some ideas. I know you are like me, not big on cleaning, but you might just know of a magic product that helps you get away with this and you might share your secret with me.

Please?

The only positive thing I got out of the exercise was exercise. And who wants to do that!

Where's your head at?

From the room next door, I hear Rhiannon shout at one of her siblings.

I tut and think to myself, "I didn't quite catch that, I haven't got my glasses on."

?!

All change

I'm waiting for David to come back to the farm shop and I'm bored. I need him because there is a spider on the ceiling in our bedroom. I may have got better with the eight legged monsters over recent years, but I still can't bear them on the ceiling.

He's not going to like me. I've sent him there for potatoes. I've just remembered, we need green veg for dinner tonight.

And tomorrow.

I can feel a walk in the fresh air coming on.

Once this spider is gone and I've got some clothes on. I'm used to funny looks, but that's taking it a bit too far...

My hero, Hugh

For those of you unsure of who Hugh might be, it's Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. I have just watched the beginning of his new series on Channel Four, River Cottage Treatment, whereby he has five guests stay at River Cottage HQ to reform their eating habits from mass produced to, at the very least, free range (FR) or, at best, organic (O) produce.

Now, he is of course preaching to the converted with me. The vegetables I buy are locally produced and I walk to the farm shop to buy them. We also buy our beef from them, which may not be O, but is beautifully cared for and I know exactly where they have been living and our eggs, which are FR. I buy FR chicken from Tesco, when it is available.

At one point in the programme, Hugh was trying to illustrate that, while buying FR or O is initially expensive, if the carcas is then used to make stock, stripped and vegetables added, you have a minimum of two family meals per bird. One chap commented that this was an old fashioned way of living and the modern family couldn't and wouldn't live this way.

We do!

I've always thought I was old fashioned.

By the end of the programme, three out of the five were converted to buying chicken that had had a good quality life. Excellent!

Two had become vegetarian.

Still less mass produced chicken being consumed.

See, it's that positive thinking again...

(Don't think I could kill my own though.)

I dislike dilemmas intensely

There's been a serious complaint made at school against two boys whom my youngest son, Conall, is friendly with. I have several issues with this.

1. I shouldn't know about it. ( I don't like knowing a secret)

2. Conall has always avoided unpleasant/disruptive children without guidance. He's a very good judge of character and just avoids trouble makers. I know he wouldn't have befriended these two children if they were not nice.

3. The other child involved, (who made the complaint) plays with my eldest daughter, who is her school buddy, and her friends and therefore I have witnesses that there are no problems like this.

4. I know the other child is simply jealous. She wants to play with Conall, they've been friends through two years at nursery and she doesn't want to share him. She is being deliberately devious and manipulative.

5. She is my friend's daughter...

This becomes complicated by my friend's older daughter's behaviour because I think the younger one is now copying her tactics to get what she wants. I don't think my friend will be able to see this, but I don't want these two boys labelled in such an awful way when they have done nothing wrong.

Back to that law again, in the previous post.

Bum.

Who's law?

I came home from school today, instead of walking straight to the farm shop, because I knew I was expecting a parcel. I decided to wait in until the postman had been.

He duely came and went, putting post through my letter box, but not ringing my doorbell to deliver a parcel.

"Grand", me thinks, "I can go to the farm shop now."

I got home, forty five minutes later, to find a card from a courier through my letter box, announcing that little-man-in-a-van had tried to deliver a parcel, but had returned it to the depot and I now need to make a phone call, (major pet-hate) to request another delivery.

Bum.

School holidays

...are over!

Well, tomorrow anyway. I know that because my parents went home this morning and the weather has improved. Dramatically. My, this has been a long holiday, what with the out-laws and then my own parents visiting.

That sounds awful, but it has been a little testing, although, I must be getting more tolerant, because I'm sure I didn't feel as stressed, so probably didn't behave so stressed. I think.

Why is the weather always so awful when they visit, so we are all trapped indoors, together, like caged tigers? Force nine gales were not welcome. Poor David, up a ladder, tacking down the shed roofing felt, then the pair of us, wrestling the trampoline over, to try to stop it from blowing away. My dad was a very twitchy audience.

So, tomorrow is a new adventure, from which we will all gain and grow in stature, experience and wisdom.

(Positive thinking.)

Update

Day one in his new class seems to have gone well. In fact, I think Aedan coped better than David, who inadvertently (didn't read the instructions...) made Aedan do a whole week's worth of homework last night. He did it without a peep, bless him. And we wonder why he hates school?!

School holidays

...again.

Come the school holidays and one of my sons leaves home.

Or at least, that's what it feels like. He's only nine and a half.

Sometimes I'm not sure if I should let him. You see, he has a friend called Robert, a little chap he's known since they were at ante-preschool together, so they were roughly three and a half when they met. It is unusual around here to have any friends around for that long, they usually move away, although we appear to have become part of the furniture.

So, they did ante-preschool together, then pre-school, then they started Primary one together, but then his mum moved Robert to one of the schools in the town three miles down the road and two years after that, they moved house to that town. So, Aedan and Robert don't see each other very often now.

Robert is the youngest of two, his older brother being about seven years the senior and they are not close, so Aedan is surrogate brother. Within days of the start of the holidays, Aedan will be invited over for 'a sleepover' and I'm beginning to think it wouldn't be cheeky to automatically pack for a week, as we often don't see him again for quite a few days.

I don't think my mother approves of me letting him stay for so long. I don't know if it's because she thinks he should be at home with his family, or maybe we are imposing on Robert's family, or taking advantage.

Robert's mum often jokes about getting the birth certificate when we pop into her pizza shop, just down the road, to hand her another poly bag of underwear. We're good friends, I'm quite sure she'd tell me if there was a problem and I don't think they would invite him if they didn't like having him around. I think there are advantages on both sides. They have company and entertainment for Robert that he doesn't get from his brother, Aedan sets a good example with his behaviour, (yes, my Aedan, the one with the policeman knocking on the door...) and his good eating habits. Aedan has more individual company and attention than he would get at home with the crowd here and all their little friends. Besides, he doesn't really have any peers left round here and he needs a friend.

I would like to think they are forging the same kind of friendship I did as a child with Ruth. It would appear to be quite unusual to have a friendship that spans the decades, so I think it's a good thing. (Just reminded myself, again, we're nearly forty...)

So, am I bad mother, or just allowing my son to enjoy his childhood anyway I (responsibly) can? The most heartbreaking bit is when he comes home. He often can't sleep, is distraught at having left Robert and misses him dreadfully. Then I feel I shouldn't let him go, because then he wouldn't suffer, but then, I would be denying him something that gives him true pleasure.

Something else to add to the long list of things to keep me awake at night.

I love Saturday Kitchen

"Like going to the pet shop to buy a hamster and getting home to find it's a bear."

What a fab way to describe a wine!!

Fancy dress competitions are like buses...

Well after all that effort put in and winning a prize, sorry, Aedan winning a prize, with the fancy dress, I've been invited to one myself now! For a change, I shall go, but only because my darling hubby had a flash of total inspiration. I'm going with two of my friends, Bev and Linda and David suggested we go as cocktails.

Sounds a little odd, until you really think about it, then it all becomes clear and is so simple! I've bagsed Black Russian, but I'm trying to persuade one of the others to go as a Bloody Mary, or maybe a Tequila Sunrise. No sewing, no glueing, maybe a hint of painting, but basically, posh frock and make up, those that can, (not me) will put up and decorate their hair and a couple of girls pink or sparkly barbie umberellas will top it all off nicely! You'll see. You'll have to wait though, the party isn't until 4th November.

Genius.

A walk to the shops

It was a beautiful evening for a stroll to the shops. These piccies were all taken this evening, but the light seems to change in each shot. It was lovely! Thanks Anne, for inviting us to do this. I really enjoyed it!

Stretching the imagination

Not bad for a hippo's bum on his head! Some tweaking to do, but I'm quite pleased.

I can highly recommend Wolf Brother by Michelle Paver and the second book in the series, Spirit Walker. As they are children's books, I was surprised to be so enthralled!

Little Mrs Pepperpot there, well, a classic like that needs no recommendation!

Update

Aedan, as Torac, won! Oh my, I'm so chuffed.

Have you seen my brush...?!

I cannot believe that, in my wisdom, I am going to try to make a wolf fancy dress outfit out of a cuddly pyjama case.

It is going to be such a fun week!

Rhiannon was set a project for school at the beginning of term, to produce a booklet on a topic within 'Planet Earth'. 'We' are doing weather, which is not too bad. I have typed it out for her, (having pointed out, this does not set a precedent for future dissertations and the like!) and it's coming together well. It is to be handed in by Thursday.

I am composing a letter to put our views to the school about Aedan's class changes, just to have it on record. I can't imagine for one minute there will be a good outcome from that!

Aedan also has a project, to produce a model of a 'croft', (they study 'The Clearances' up here...) which has to be at school for Friday. I think/hope!

I was handed a letter by one of the little treasures last night, telling me that it is, once again, book week and that the school are having a fancy dress assembly on Friday, when the children are to attend dressed as their favourite character. I did try to come up with an idea that they could all do together, (clever, cunning even) but having run through the options of Famous Five, Swallows and Amazons, The Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe, discovered that nothing quite worked. The children were the wrong age order, or with S and A, don't know the story well enough to pass a good grilling by the judges.


Ciara may end up as Mrs Pepperpot and have to put up with the skirt not being red and white stripped. Haven't a clue what Rhiannon will be, but guess it will be modern day, as then she can wear ordinary clothes and not make a spectacle of herself. Aedan is reading Wolf Brother by Michelle Paver at the moment. My sister sent them the audio book read by Sir Ian McKellen and they loved it. I have since read this book and the next in the series and Aedan is enjoying it too.

So I'm making a wolf costume. Using a fluffy hippopotamus pyjama case. Conall will be Wolf and Aedan can be Torac, the boy in the story. I can use some of the hippo trimmings to sew a bit of Torac's 'clan creature', (a wolf) to an old t-shirt, then belt that to make it a bit like a jerkin. Sort of. (I'm only making a hood with ears for the wolf, just incase you thought it must be a particularly large pyjama case...)

To add to all this excitement, word from the mil is that she couldn't get B & B in Forres at the weekend, (shame, I'm gutted) so they will stay in Inverness and just come through on the bus for the afternoon on Saturday, (huge sigh of relief).

Last night, David went out to work having opened and left open, the bedroom window. The very same window where a spider dropped on my hand. I was dreaming all night, (at least, until I was lieing awake in the early hours, composing the letter and being creative with fluffy toys in my head) that there was a spider running all over my bed.

Somewhere in the lounge, where I am sitting at present, there is what Ciara described as 'a medium sized' spider. It is therefore either tiny or enormous. Somewhere...

I still have to clean. David is on night shift until Friday morning. I feel a quicky coming on!

Control

A few of you out there will have noticed, it's spider time.

Yes, the time of year when you can't turn your back for a second or there will be a spider learing at you when you turn back.

Yesterday I coped brilliantly. So well, I'm not even sure how it happened.

I had opened the window in my bedroom to 'shush' a cat, (like cats, just not in my garden...) and something fell onto my hand and dropped off again. I squealed. I paused for a second, thinking, "Oh my, I think that was a spider." I looked onto the window ledge and there it was, one of those muscular, black, hairy jobs, just sitting there. I shut the window again and moved away, carried on with my morning.

What self-control! I didn't do that funny little dance in the middle of the room, you know the one, hopping from foot to foot, shaking, flapping hands and slapping at random body parts. I just_walked_away. So impressed!

A spider touched my hand and I didn't freak.

I suppose that was a good start to the weekend.

The bad news was the fall in roll numbers at the school. Again.

This means they are losing yet another class, dropping from eleven to ten. Last year we lost a class and both my girls were moved around. On the whole, that was ok. Neither of them were likely to be phased by it and Rhiannon ended up with a teacher she'd had before in P4 who she really liked, so that was good.

This year, we are not so lucky. The girls aren't affected, yay! Conall is not affected, yay! Aedan was with the same teacher as last year, which was fantastic because she's really got a handle on him.

Aedan is moving to a different class. Bum. I don't think he will get on nearly so well with this teacher. Rhiannon had her in P5, but Rhiannon is the bright, quiet, studious type that goes unnoticed more than anything else. Aedan is not. Aedan has to be cajoled, encouraged, supported and convinced he can do it. This teacher likes easy, middle of the road. Bum. Impending doom and disaster. P3 with Aedan was a disaster. P5 with Aedan looks as if it's heading the same way and I shall have a think about that one and come back to it.

Some things you have no control over.

It's here!

My new tent.

It's huuuge.

It barely fitted in the back garden.

I have tried to give you an idea of it's palatial (as tents go) size, but I don't think you really get it.

It has two bedrooms at each end and a 'lounge' in the middle.

And no stooping, unless you happen to be a giant. We are not.

I'm soooo excited!

Photographs of last Monday's activities (you just wait!) are to follow.

Laugh? I cried

Was having such fun yesterday, I never got round to telling you my tent has arrived! It's way too big to put up in the lounge and it's been raining too much to put it up outside at the moment, but hopefully at the weekend it will be dry enough and I'll post some photographs.

Speaking of which, as soon as I have photographs of my expoits yesterday, I'll post them too. Talk about daft, the tale involves my friend Bev trying to wrap an eliptical/cross trainer thingy to post.

We did laugh. I cried.