SCOOP! HENRY HOOVER – PEEPING TOM

I was in a shop changing room the other day, and was already feeling vulnerable. 

I freely admit to being the kind of person who peers up at the ceiling tiles suspiciously;  convinced that beings lurk behind them, snooping down at me in my semi-clad state. 

I don't tend to linger in these places.  Indeed I try to be as quick as possible, not least because the less time spent in front of a mirror in my undies the better. 

In a Jam



Traffic Jam
(I know, too awful)

So there we are . . . stuck in traffic.  Me and Children Nos. 2 and 3.
We are on the last leg of a journey we make every  day, and which usually takes 8 minutes (give or take) door to door.

But on this particular day (which of course was the day it was IMPERATIVE I was home in time) we were stuck in traffic . . . for 50 minutes.

The first 5 minutes were given over to
a) wondering exactly how long we might be stuck here (visibility was restricted and no obvious obstruction could be discerned)   and
b) growing frustration about dinner arrangements for the family. 

Time truly was of the essence as Child No.1 at home was due at a Dress Rehearsal from which he would not return until gone 10pm. 
Child No.2 (in the car with me) was due at a rehearsal for a concert he was doing with the rest of his class. 
Husband was laid up in bed with so- far- undiagnosed- but- none- the- less- very- painful back problem. 
Dog was probably just sleeping somewhere, so that wasn't an issue.

But it was all whizzing and whirring around in my mind - wondering how on earth I was going to get everyone sorted out and delivered in time and how could I possibly . . . .

Eggscuse Me ?

Is it just me . . . ?

Apologies for lowering the tone and introducing a level of coarseness hitherto unplumbed on these pages - but this caught my eye today as I was doing a spot of internet shopping.

I admit things have been a tad stressful at home lately, and I am very, very tired - but . . .

Does that look rude to you?

Star Struck

I used to think  I was quite cool (not that there has ever been any evidence to support this) but I have recently found myself to be what can only be described as Starstruck.

So far I have managed to spend my life pretty much entirely avoiding contact with Stars, both major and minor.

However, I always thought that, should I come face to face with a celebrated personage, I might retain an air of dignity - perhaps even issue forth with a charming/witty observation. 

That was until a recent encounter with a Famous Person in my local corner shop caused me to revise my opinion. 

In very close proximity to aforementioned FP my throat closed, I went bright red and sweated - a lot.

Now this person was someone whose programmes I enjoy, but I wouldn't say I was in awe of them.  Why they should elicit such an extreme(ly unattractive) response is quite beyond me.

Naturally enough this whole episode brought to the surface a striking dilemma.

Waiting Room Only



Maintaining Radio Silence

Sitting in a hospital waiting room this morning - having already thumbed through the magazines and imbibed the complimentary 'Chocomilk' drink  (delicious, thank you for asking) - my eye was caught by the following notice:

"This radio is on for a reason. 

Please do not switch it off or turn it down"

I was intrigued, and not a little unsettled . . . and I shall tell you why.

Head in the Clouds ?

It is very foggy today, here in Ruralish-shire. 

Fog

We've had a lot of fog lately.  Do I mean 'a lot of fog'? or do I mean a lot of foggy days?

Anyway. . .

Fog used to freak me out a bit.  I'm not talking rocking-on-the-bottom-stair freaking out, but I would certainly be unsettled.


Like looking through a dirty windscreen, it used to make me furrow my brow and give myself a scowly headache.

The Dog

The Dog

Yes, The Dog !    At last, I got around to writing something about the hound for whom this Blog is named.

'Don't Break the Dog!' is a cry often heard in our homestead.  With three children, a relatively small space

Well I Never Said We Were Cool...

Part Two in my occasional series of 'We Did It First' or 'Things We Invented'.
I admit it is on the same theme, but I felt it worthy of inclusion.

I recently introduced the world to our fabulous 'Sci-Five' and would now like to include in this particular Hall of Fame the


(Beautifully demonstrated by my children Nos. 2 & 3)

HOVER - FIVE!



 I know, it's great isn't it? And so easy to execute. Simply go in as if making a regular High-Five and stop just short of making contact. 'Hover' for a moment, and there you have it! The Hover-Five!

Not Entirely on Top Form

I am lagging at the mo.

No. 3 child didn't even have a school jumper this morning.  Had to retrieve one from the wash and squirt it with Eternity to reduce the mustiness.

Not sure Calvin Klein is entirely appropriate for someone who's just turned 9.

The next ad campaign?
Well it is black and white...

Love Child

Lauren Child

Another reason to love Lauren Child (see Hall of Heroes).

My 9 year old daughter adores LC's books and wrote her a lovely letter telling her just that.

And do you know what?  Within a matter of days,  she received a personalised letter in reply.

How adorable is that? 

I'll tell you . . . . it's very, very adorable.

All Very Moving...

Our neighbour, of the last 15 years, has been threatening to return to the Land of her Fathers for, ooh, about the last 15 years. 

We listened politely, and kept an eye on her house when she went on her annual jaunts to said LOHF; but we never really expected that she would actually go.

But she is.  Tonight.  The van is parked outside (blocking my window actually, but one has to be neighbourly) and all her worldly goods are being crammed placed carefully inside.

She's about 150 and she is leaving her home of 40 years and is starting afresh.  Despite it being the Land of her Fathers, she doesn't actually know a soul there.  Brave?  Or bonkers? 
Or perhaps a bit of both?

We did it first!

This is something we invented (oh yes).

And since these things have a habit of travelling like wildfire, and all sorts of people claim them as their own (my friend J insists her friend L invented the word 'wanger', for example)  - I thought I'd pop it on here for my grandchildren's grandchildren to look at and bask in the reflected glow.

Here it is. . .

Vulcan Hand Sign

No of course we didn't invent the Vulcan hand sign - Vulcans did that.

What we did invent was the thrilling and original.......Sci Fi(ve)!

It's a Love Thing

Just wanted to quickly share.....

I was in my youngest's school this morning  (I was allowed, it's okay)  to watch the assembly.

A regular feature of assemblies is the Celebration Bench - where children from each year are nominated for something . . . well . . .worth celebrating. 

The categories often make me chuckle - they seem to range from 'finding the prettiest leaf in the playground' to 'fixing the large hadron collider''.

But today we had a real 'catch your breath' moment.