Someone's been at my camera!

Someone's been at my camera! I wonder who they were and what they were interested in?

Cheeky Monkey!

How to get your wife to do just about anything...

There are men who just get it and then there are the rest; the men who just get it have wives who will do anything for them beyond and above the call of duty. Other men call these men "Lucky B*****ds". Their wives call them "Darling".
But what is it that makes these men so utterely wonderful? Are they rich? Are they handsome? Are they good in bed?
I hate to tell you guys it is none of the above.
I shall illustrate...
I have a new friend whom I am quickly coming to adore. She's bright and fiesty and pretty and just great. However, over the weeks since I first met her I realise that she shows an alarming tenadancy to let the sisterhood down and it doesn't quite sit with her personality.
However, I know it takes all sorts in this world and I let it slide while mentally reminding myself to make sure she never speaks to my husband, in fact I have plans to gag her at any social function just in case my man gets ideas.
This is the woman who gets up at sparrrows fart to walk down the long drive and open the gate for her husband every morning come rain or shine or drifting snow, just so he can save three minutes - if that - on his way to the station. She is doing this at 6am every day. No doubt she has actually provided him with a comforting breakfast as well as the luxury packed lunch to sustain him. I wouldn't be surprised if she also cooks him a three course meal every night for when he comes home and has his drink and slippers ready on his return.
It bothers me, it really does.
That is until I heard  how he does it and suddenly it call came clear. This man is a treasure, worth his weight in gold.
This morning my lovely friend felt a little tired and gently said to her man: "Darling do you mind if I don't open the gate for you this morning?"
His reply was perfect  - "But it is SO lovely to chat..."
...and I am afraid I think I have fallen in love. Needless to say my friend did open the gate but girls wouldn't you?

Never underestimate the advantage of age....

There is a tendancy to venerate youth; but one should never underestimate the advantage of age with all it's wisdom and it's ability to get liofe into perspective. Shame then that instead of learning it myself I have to be taught it's values by my dog.
Tattie my joyous ancient whippet, OK she gave me a look there, my jouyous mature dog, is not exactly and exemplary specimen of her breed. her head's to small she runs odd and he tail curls too much added to that she has fly away ears. She's not likely to be winning any prizes for her looks.
Now I have put her into classes at most dog shows we trug along to over the years because I am vain and think she is beautiful, which she is to me. Also it gives me something to do. She has never complained and happily prances about the show ring with the best of them and we always trundle home slightly disappointed at not even making a place when there are only four in the ring, even when I attach her to Bog Boy for the sympathy vote.
So the other day when we were at yet another Village Fete there was a dog show and thinking what the heck as I always do, in she went. This time into the veterans. There were loads of them and all very sprightly and well groomed and then there was Tattie. She didn't prance about, she walked along beside me nuzzling my hand. When we stopped she lazed about on the grass, didn't even get up when the judge came by; instead she just rolled on her back and made the judge tickle her tummy.
So you can imagine I held no high hopes. Third prize went, runner up went and I eyed up a very sprightly Norfolk Terrier almost with loathing knowing he would win when suddenly it was tattie's name I heard called out! And why had she been singled out as teh winner? For her laid back attitude to growing old!
My dog the Champion!

Biting one's tongue...

Sometimes it is so hard NOT to say anything especially when you are mad and a tiny bit tipsy. I do not know how on earth I kept my mouth shut maybe a deep seated sense of self preservation prevailed. Maybe I knew deep down I didn't really mean any of the things I was thinking.
But boy I wanted to seriously lash out.
Things have been interesting between DC and I of late, though of course he doesn't actually know that. I have soundly berated him, scorned him and basically given him what for, but of course he has not heard a thing, which is hardly surprising because when I let off steam at him he's usually safely ensconced in his office some 80 miles away and I am invariably driving either to or from School. I actually believe if it wasn't for the school run my marriage would be over or at least in a more critical state than I perceive it at present. Maybe everyone does this sort of thing, which actually when you think about it makes one wonder why women have a far safer driving record than men but there again we are better at multi tasking: Negotiate staggetred junction on busy main road while listening to Chris Evans on Radio Two and dividing up chattels of proposed imaginary divorce. Piece of cake really!
I do pity him, he ambles home innocent of the murderous thoughts whizzing around his wife's head, plonks his newspaper and brief case on the newly cleared kitchen table, pops open the fridge to take out his whisky and soda, leaves aforementioned whisky and soda on Welsh Dresser, seeks out spouse and asks her what sort of day she had. It must baffle him greatly to be met with a scowl or a monosalabic response. I want to say to clarify matters that I am actually protecting him, even if I do sound terribly mean, for by 8.30pm at night I am ready to go bang with pent up frustration but also realise that to do so would just cause unecessary grief.
As far as he is concerned I am a grumpy old bag or it's the time of the month. Perhaps he'll talk to his Mum and she'll mention the need for Vitamin B6, B12 and more leafy green vegetables and that for some women the change comes early...
Maybe it's the age I am, the fact that I don't DO anything that I really want always trying to seocnd guess what everyone else wants or more importantly what he wants.
And I can't get that image out of my mind of a couple in an advert in the 90s. He looking goofily at the camera while sitting in a chair, his wife perched on the arm. He says earnestly: "We want to be together." And you see her just raising an eyebrow.

Bringing up boys: First attempt at pulling a sickie....

Mum, Mum I still feel sick I can’t go to school tomorrow...

I think this is a case of a Mum being far too indulgent of her offspring leading them to believe that being ill is some sort of wonderful fairy tale whereby they are the centre of attention, waited on hand and foot, tempted with goodies not normally entertained  and get to watch TV all day.

It is so easy to do and my heart breaks at the thought that even though I would love him to stay with me and do all of the above, it is time to get back to work for both of us. He to school, and me to my deadlines; the idyll is over.

A brief two days, just The Boy and me, I feel terribly cruel and have vowed that  I shall be more like Nanny McFee rather than Mary Poppins. If either of them are ill apart from the tasty morsels to tempt their appetite and  mopping of fevered brows when called to the other extras will be off limits perhaps then the idea of school and playing with their mates might be a little more appealing.

However, there is a bit of me that recognizes the need to have your Mum all to yourself, the pampering, the cuddles and the total uninterrupted loving. I don’t think a day of R&R did any lasting harm and I noted how swiftly he felt better when I replied that as he was still so obviously ill then there was only one thing I could think of to help him to get better: “You’ll just have to stay in your Room all day Darling, with no TV, as obviously Mummy was wrong in letting you watch it as you are still ill. I had also better get some more pink medicine, I know you don’t like it but it does help you get better. Perhaps I should double the dose? No? No, don’t worry poppet Mummy will sort it out. What you are feeling better already? Miracles never cease!”

Dusty old barns and memory lane...

Cleaning out the barn of the detritus of the past ten years of our lives has been like a visit to the psychotherapist in that you have to go places you would rather not ever go again.
As you start to delve into musty old boxes covered in grimy layers of dust which you can’t help sneezing up and making your nose twitch you are confronted by memories, good and bad and/or embarrassing.
I cringe at the evidence of my poor taste and wonder that I ever wasted so much money on so much tat. Although the boxes and bags were put in the barn nigh on ten years ago the stuff that is racked there, goes back way longer. I mean I even have my toys dumped here; not that I mind, as I have given them to the boys for what is a toy if it is not played with?
I remember packing them away in 1981 before we embarked on our first major overseas posting in a decade. Each one was lovingly wrapped and sadly bade farewell by name. I was crying and then I was furious because my sister and her friend, five years younger than me, had heard me and were sniggering on the other side of the door. Hell hath no fury like a 15 year old teenager caught out and embarrassed. I think my sister was forcibly told to erase the whole episode from her mind forever. Since she has never mentioned it I can only presume she took my advice.
So now the toys are out again and I am afraid I don’t remember all their names and the memories are both bitter sweet and welcome.
Not so the memories engendered by my dubious taste in jumpers, purple plastic bead necklaces and faux suede pussy pelmets. God I must have looked a sight but I bet I thought I was the bee’s knees….

Mad cat ladies and official form filling....

I have a feeling that it is not good for me to think. Thinking should be banned except when you are being nice, feel in a great mood or need to drive safely, otherwise it is an overated pastime.
What gets achieved when you think? Nothing because you are too busy thinking and thinking can lead you down some very strange alleys if you don't keep it firmly in check.
There you are minding your own busienss driving back home from school and the next thing you know you are envisaging your life as a lonley old woman wearing clothes riddled with cat fleas and being known as the mad cat woman in the village, all because you extrapolated what might happen if you forget to sign a school outing form. It can be MOST disconcerting! It's not as if I have that many cats...
So how did I get from school outing form to mad cat lady living on my ownsome? Weeeelllll....by failing to sign said form child did not go on outing scarring him for life and resulting in label as bad mother. As a bad mother one of course would expect also to be a bad wife leading understandably to husband swapping defunct wife nos 1 for superior model that works better and doesn't forget basic things like school forms. Since known as Bad mother children would live with father and only occasionlly be forced to visit bad mother for form's sake before abandoning all pretence at age of majority. Bad mother would seek soalce in the feline form etc etc
Now I had better get that form filled in....

Now here's a question...

Have you always been "in love" with your partner? And how do you know if it is love? Could it just be lust? Does it stay with you always or does it wax and wane?
It seems the process of sorting out my stuff has thrown up some unexpected questions and made me look more closely at my life. And I am a tad confused. I have my ups and downs like everyone I suppose, but let's say, perhaps the way I conduct my marriage is a little alien to some; for starters we have separate rooms because he snores and I don't sleep well. We're not that physical, not that I am bothered. I worry because, well men are different. And therefore perhaps I should be bothered.
But then my thinking took me further am I not bothered because I am no longer "in love" with my husband? And if so how long have I not been "in love"? When did it happen? And do I actually know what love is? Does anyone? And if I have to ask does that mean I have never been in love?
I think I am a little naive and the basis of a good marriage is mutual respectand interests in common - but I fall short on those things too because I don't think I am. Do I respect him? Of course I do! He's a kind caring man mostly and many would say I am lucky to have him but I think we are out of sync and have been for a long time. Perhaps this happens to all married couples I mean it is a lot to expect people to stick at it isn't it?

Excuses: You know when you have got a job to do and you really don't want to...

I have come up with a myriad of excuses today thousands, trust me thousands of excuses not to be doing what I should be...
It's too sunny.
There's no milk, I must just pop out and get some...
The chicken water feeders need a good scrub down.
The dog's collar could so with a good clean.
It's too sunny...
Oh those poor builders need a drink working so hard in this heat.
Better scoop the poop in the garden.
I must pop these keys in the barn for J.
It's too sunny...
The washing needs doing.
I must ring up that chap about planking the logs.
The bins need putting out for tomorrow.
It's too sunny...
I need to build a volcano...OK My children want me to build a volcano...
Ooohhh my nails are lovely and long perhaps I could paint them.
Good heavens is it really nearly lunch time? Alfresco I think!
What things do you find to do when really you should be doing something else?
Oh what is it I should be doing...ah yes sroting everything out ....well there is this afternoon!
Now I really think I ought to paint the Boy's Army Hut.....

The problem with Organisation is Discipline....

The problem with organisation is discipline and by that you can discover I have neither in my life – it is a problem.

For living the way I do in a disorganised and undisciplined world, although wildly romantic and sometimes adventurous, is the cause I fear of the one great tragedy in my life; stress.

Stress the modern day scourge of the Western states more prevalent than the bubonic plague and equally as harmful sapping the will from countless millions and in a world where we have untold wealth and freedom the cause of so much unhappiness.

Well basically I have found a cure or if not that a great reliever of stress and that is organisation; I have just got to get it.

If I were organised I would have more time, time to relax and thus stay one step ahead of stress not stress due to big life affirming or changing events such as hatch, match and dispatch but of the more mundane things like running out of underwear or food and failing to keep up with bank accounts and school trips that sort of everyday, low lying stress which niggles and naggles at you and haunts your dreams so you never get any rest.

They say if you can do a thing for 20 days it will become a habit; I’m crossing my fingers that THEY are correct for in the next 30 days I am going to get organised once and for all and the first thing I am going to do is find out what the heck we have and I mean everything. For how can you get organised if you don’t know what you have to organise? This is the nitty gritty of my life. Stuff.

Get a grip on the small things and I’ll get a clearer view of the big picture once that is done I will know what the heck it is I am expected to do and no doubt get a better perspective on how I want to live.

So every draw and pocket, box and bag, cupboard and cubby hole will be gone through with a fine tooth comb. Everything will be sorted out and either put back in the place it belongs or thrown out. There will be no room for hangers on.

It sounds frightfully decisive doesn’t it? Ho hum let’s hope I have the will to do it and not get distracted along the way and that is why in a vain attempt to give the whole task a sense of urgency, a deadline if you will, I am joining Tiddlyompompom on this mad course to see if by stating it out loud I will have the discipline to carry it through.Wish me luck!!!