OOH! A PUZZLE...

I like puzzles.  Not jigsaw puzzles.  Jigsaw puzzles hurt my head because they are impossible.  Don't be fooled by folk who finish jigsaw puzzles  'as proof' - 'tis nothing more than smoke and mirrors.

It is not that I dislike Jigsaws because I can't do them.  There are plenty of puzzles I can't do but still like.



For example:

THE POWER OF PRAYER...

...or, Perhaps it's just who you know

Walking my faithful hound this morning I saw this, on the door of the local church's office.

We've probably all wished, at some time or another, that we didn't have to go into work quite so early.

How reassuring to see that sometimes these prayers are answered.

Have a happy day x

OOH, KIDS...THEY'RE A WORRY

My Actual Real-Life Family

It's tough, isn't it?  You worry about your kids.

You worry if they're not potty-trained when everyone else's toddler seems to be...
You worry they won't have any friends...
You worry they'll forget their lines in the school play...
You worry how they'll do in their exams...

I have no doubt that I will worry about something about one or all of mine until the day I die.

But it's a rare child who starts secondary school still wearing nappies.  And kids are way more capable than perhaps we give them credit for.


Of course we all learn - as stages pass - that all too often we have worried unnecessarily.


But now, Ladies and Gentlemen, might I suggest that when you open your 11 year old daughter's bedroom door and this is what greets you ...

This is the time to worry.

Coke™ Is It...

Coke™ may well be 'It' ...  But what, pray tell, is this?

 

I don't get this.  What am I supposed to do here?  Helen or Simon who?
And why is my bottle of pop sending me messages anyway?  Surely this should be the preserve of the Desert-Islandly-Stranded? 

PRINCE GEORGE OF CAMBRIDGE*

*This Post is not about Prince George.

Not the Prince George

Prince George is largely irrelevant.


Only to this story!  Heck people, Prince G is not irrelevant!  Nothing shakes your world like the arrival of your First Born, Prince of the Realm or not.

This post is about a George - Saint George.

Or, actually - not.

But it is about my world being shaken, so you may want to take a moment to prepare.

Deep breath and ... ready?

.....????? .....

 

 

Now, either Witch has grown a beard ....

 

 

.... or she's been wrassling with the sheepskin rug again.

 

 

Yooooooou decide ....

.... because she's maintaining a dignified silence.

Did I just say 'dignified'?!

A What..? An AWARD, you say..?

So well hello and a great big THANK YOU to Weezafish – Blogger Extraordinaire and Bestower of Interesting Blog award  upon .... me! 

(I have to admit here that we have been friends for years - since before even the Wild-Word-interWeb probably - so there may have been an element of bias on her part...)

BUT, no ... it is important to accept a compliment graciously and in the spirit in which it was given - and so, again I say THANK YOU!  (That’s shouting really, isn’t it? Ah well, I’m excited).
I am jolly chuffed and it gave me a real fillip, I can tell you.

MY MIND IS A BLANK ...

...Or, ................?

Do you know what?  I can't think of anything to say. 

Not just 'I can't think of anything to blog about,' but I have been struggling with random and occasional words for a few days now. 

Today, for example, I was talking to the dog and I said,

 

'We need to wipe your feet because...'

 

and then words failed me. 

 

We looked at each other, the dog and I, and a moment of mutual understanding passed between us.  She realised that I had been attempting to express that -unwiped - her fluffy,wet dog feet would poddle rain all through the house.  And I realised that she, of course, was wondering where her next piece of cheese was coming from.

THE WRONG TROUSERS ...

...And Nothing at all to do with Wallace and Gromit

I spent the whole day today wearing a pair of trousers that were quite different to the ones I thought  I had on.

I was quite unsettled when I realised.

I will have an early night and hope to put the whole sorry episode behind me.

TO QUOTE GRANNY WEATHERWAX ... 'I ATEN'T DEAD'

Or...What the sam heck have I been doing then?

 

 

 

I have no excuses...well, actually, I have loads - but I won't trouble you with them here :o)

 

 

Thanks to everyone for their kind messages and concerned notes and please be assured that normal service will be resumed as soon as humanly possible.

 

Perhaps in the meantime you could read/start to read/re-read one of Sir Terry Pratchett's marvellous Discworld novels.  One including witches, I'd recommend.  

 

Back soon!  



 



COOKING WITH KIDS . . .

Or...The Trouble with Cooking with Kids

(I am of course referring to the act of cooking alongside children.  Not using them as an ingredient).

Nothing can be finer, can it, than spending time cooking with your kids?

Well, yes, frankly - plenty of things are finer.  Earwax removal... Filing Tax Returns...Paper-Cuts....

I am quite sure there are about a gerzillion parents who adore cooking with their offspring.

I am not one of them.

In the heady days of Summer Last I made the mistake of declaring in public that I would teach each of my children to cook.  I can laugh now...

SPECIAL DELIVERY...?

...Or, Is This What They Mean by Over-Packaged?

The whole thing started with confusion. 

I got home from the School Run to find a Yodel Delivery Service ticket on my doormat, bearing the legend that they Missed Me Today (aah, sweet) when they had tried to deliver. 
But all was not lost - they had helpfully left my parcel 'With The Neighbour at No.10'.

Not my actual Yodel Ticket

Great.  Except we are No.10.

EDUCATIONAL GAMES FOR CHILDREN...

Or...What I learnt about my Daughter

(In fact, should that be 'learned'..?)

Cute, eh?  So is my daughter.
Also evil.

After dinner, while still sitting around the table, I decided it would be nice to play a game together.  Mindful of the long summer holiday which has been filled with way too much computer game time, I wanted to think of something that would encourage our three children to perhaps use their brains a little.

Baby Steps first though, I thought  (also, this was the best I could come up with.  Perhaps someone else needs to challenge their brain a little, hmm?) - and with an enthusiasm in my voice usually reserved for chocolate/mallow-based snacks, I said...

WORLD'S SMALLEST SNAIL...?

Or, What the Sam Heck was this doing in my kitchen?

Is this the teeniest snail in the world?

Lookee here - just found this bimbling along on my kitchen sink. (Yeah. I know.  Best not dwell on that).  His name is Leonardo.

But how did he get there?

THIS IS BIGGER THAN BOTH OF US

There is only one problem with Wagon Wheels, in my opinion.

One isn't enough. 

So one has to ask  whhhhy the Good People at the Burton Biscuit Co. came up with these?

I DON'T THINK MY SON'S TEACHER LIKES ME...

Our Secondary school uses a 'platform' website (I have no idea) to send email message alerts and to set homework etc.

This week I got one such alert informing me that No.1 Son 'may have been marked absent' and that I should check on the website for more details.



I found a few bits of homework that should have been completed several years ago, but could I find anything on the website about attendance?  I could not. 

I Will Never, Ever, Garden Again...

I have never been much of a gardener anyway...

...Unless you count that one year when I had a thriving vegetable plot.  But that was very much a 'Dig for Victory'  WWII fantasy I was living out, coinciding with the 50th Anniversary of VE Day.

No, Gardening and I have always been Uneasy Bedfellows - I don't do creepy crawlies, damp earth, dry earth, hard work, bugs ...  Also, it makes my skin itch.  Not sure if that's psychosomatic or an actual allergy to something - possibly the 'hard work'.

But, I could no longer ignore that the Shed at the End of the Garden with Clematis Attached, had become Clematis At The End of the Garden with Shed Attached.  So I gritted my teeth, donned my Gardening Gear (Oh yeah, I've got all the stuff), found the secateurs and climbed my Ikea Step Stool ready to do battle.

As I mentioned in a earlier post, I have been casting around for a new name for The Husband.  Although Best Beloved worked for a while (a very short while) it wasn't long before it started grating on me.
Don't get me wrong - he is The Best, and he is also Beloved.  It's just that the name has been used elsewhere and so . . . well, I wanted a fresh and original name for him.
(Turns out BB grated on him too.  But he never said!  Aaaah, sweeeet.)

So. . . I would like to announce that The Husband Previously Known as 'BB' or 'Best Beloved' will now be referred to as . . .

Mr W.

I know. 
Fresh and  Original.

Darn, I'm good.

OVERHEARD. . .

Now I really wouldn't want you to think that I go around eavesdropping, because really I don't.  Although ... there is a lot to be said for being 'aware', I always say.
(It comes from reading so many books about WWII Resistance and the S.O.E - but more on that later). 

It's just sometimes you don't so much 'overhear' things, as have them thrust upon you. . .


I was recently in a Hospital Waiting Room...waiting for The Husband.(Sometimes known as BB, but am currently auditioning different titles for him).

- I seem to start a lot of posts with Hospital Waiting Rooms.  Anyway....

There I was, minding my own business, deep in the pages of my current book about WWII when in came a couple (a man and a woman) who were really rather pleased with themselves. 
Lots of hair-flicking and teeth flashing and effortlessly shabby-chic clothing.

OOH I SAY...GET ME!

I am feeling a little nerve-wracked because I have just published my FIRST EVER Guest Post on another Blog.  Ooooooooeerrrrrrr.

Tree with Bunting.
(For no particular reason)

My dear friend, Weezafish, was CRUELLY burgled last week and asked me to explain her subsequent Radio Silence on her Blog - and also bung a post of my own up there too. 

How very kind of her to think me fit, eh?

So, if you are intrigued, do go take a look.
If you are not, then I shall simply wish you a very happy day.

In fact - what the hey! To one and all, a Happy Day!
(I am getting quite prolific with these poems).