Thank you Sewel much

A rare calm, happy and peaceful return from nursery chatting about dinosaur and train play as well as learning days of the week with Mia, Archie and Vasco came to a crashing end when (unbeknownst to me the news was on the radio) up pipes 'prostitue mummy' of course, typically, this time pronounciation was spot-on so I ought to have praised his sharp ear and lucid tongue but instead quickly turned the radio off and belted out my best 'the wipers on the bus go swishhhhh swishhhhhh swishhhhhhhhhh' - calm restored. 

I think its time to put the Eminem CD away too.

Not by the hair on my chiny chin chin

In a bid for more space and time in London we 'went up' into our loft earlier this year. Needless to say after a few months of throwing money we didn't have at the project and provarocating between sisal and hessian, we ran out of steam. What we have is a wonderful space but we haven't quite pulled the project over the line and one thing we distinctly lack in our house is mirrors. 

Most days I don't have the time to stop and take stock of my face (I know, hashtag first world problems!!) but this weekend on a rare outing in the car without a single other being with me, I stopped in traffic outside the Tower of London. After patriotically enjoying the view in smug silence my eyes caught a glimpse of a haggard older self in the mirror, of course it was actual-time me: marvellous. It's easy to fake an image when you never actually see what you look like..... However it wasn't the wrinkles or red eyes or tasche that really caught my attention or horror but the 3 long, dark whiskers that had sprouted from my chin.

I have a beard. 

Apologies

My problem with partying, excitement and consuming a moderate amount of alcohol (anything over 1 glass of wine) is that I simply will never ever be 'plastered and orderly' and so I then spend the next 2 days apologising to anyone I may have/definitely offended. 

Todays apologies include Mr. P for pretending you pinched my bottom, Farmer Jim/Bear Grylls for downing your drink which happened to be the last pint in the house, the band for doing a disservice to your cool tunes with my usual Zebra-on-acid dance (at the time I think I look something between Gisele and Gwen Stefani with the rhythm of Beyoncé) and apologies to my husband for being the excitable dwarf lunatic (but thanks) that you kindly humour me with a rendition of the 'chain saw' - a mesmerising dance routine involving a pretend, heavy and out of control chain saw - that perhaps makes me look ever so slightly more sober.

Parties don't feature regularly on my calendar and I am slowly losing any vague social aptitude I once had. This week amongst potty training and number learning there is going to be a bit of work on my own etiquette. 

Plastered

So the silver lining to seeing your little Thunderbird topple over on concrete whilst out in the pissing rain at the duck pond (aside from missing said duck pond by inches).. Is the drama and excitement that ensues. A grazed knee is a BIG DEAL and can take up at least 2 hours of entertainment. So following the sharp intake of breath, rush to aide the victim and massive cuddle; it has all been about BRAVERY, CLEANING WOUNDS and PEPPA PIG PLASTERS for an entire 180 minutes. 

The bravery was impressive, I mean, I am not squeamish but cleaning someone else's cut with antiseptic wipes to dig out the ingrained dirt had me wincing whilst my soldier was more concerned about the crumb he had on his finger. 'Wi wi wipe it muuuuuuummmmmmmyyyyyyyy' as though it was plutonium and his hand were about to fall off.

It was the plasters that stole the show. Having shunned Mr Men, SpongeBob SquarePants (we're not quite there yet), Thomas the Tank Engine and even Fireman Sam - it was everyone's favourite muddy puddle lover that would adorn the little bashed knee. The yellow plaster with Peppa and George dressed in just wellies wasn't enough. In the safety of his bed and in time it took mummy to walk to the kitchen, flick on the kettle and empty the dishwasher (fined tuned to an impressive 3 minutes) I returned to Peppa plastered all over him. What was even more amusing, puzzling and (being a little OCD myself) impressive was how the green ones with George dressed as a pirate only occupied his left arm, the purple ones with Peppa as an astronaut occupied his right arm and the remaining yellow ones covered his right leg. Plastered but orderly, just what I aspire to.

Rubbish record

7.10am and 3mins 38secs.

Well done chaps. AND this included a 'stand well clear, vehicle reversing', flashing lights, parked up beneath our window to let 2 commuters whiz by. Most impressive.

But..

Now what am I going to do with my morning?

revisiting the Invisible Vein

Four years ago on Thursday I got hitched. A few years earlier than that I tried to write my thoughts on love in general. Tonight I reflect. It's not a masterpiece but to me it sums up what I understand love to be.

I love my family.

I love my friends.

I love my sport.

I love animals.

'The invisible vein' applies to them all and all the other things I love. 

LOVE LOVE LOVEY LOVE LOVE (no, I have not had a drink)

I give you THE INVISIBLE VEIN

Immaterial, intangible, a most powerful thing,

Love pervades us all, the highs and lows that it brings,

It’s danger; it’s beauty, enervating the most robust,

A mystical, magical entity, it’s greatest ally is trust,

With trust it blossoms and numbs and protects,

Love in full bloom crushes boundaries, no regrets,

Nothing seems mightier than a love in full swing, 

Warmth, delight…. Innumerable, wonderful things,

The power of love lies in the weakness it bestows,

Those in its clasp don’t care, can’t direct where they go,

An enigmatic, unpredictable, amazing matter,

He who falls from its heights could be no flatter,

The loss of love knows no bounds, 

That wonderful manifestation turns.. in that cloud, one drowns,

The bleakest place is a lonesome love-lost pit, 

That ‘something’ missing, that inexpressible hit,

Realisation of indescribable, unfathomable feelings,

The loss of their comfort, leaves the lovelost reeling,

Bitterness inevitable at such a blow,

Yet on the fire of anger, time begins to snow,

In appreciating the enigma and power of love, 

It’s possibilities and capacities above,

Accept it, embrace it, no one can ever control, 

The power in life that makes the world roll

What a load of rubbish

Wednesday mornings somewhere between 7.45am and 9.30am is a peak of bustling excitement in our household as we to and fro from the front sash windows, knees knocking, expectant squeals firing in anticipation of the weekly passing by of The ........... RUBBISH LORRY. Yes, that entire sentence is completely true.

There is the arrival of Helpful Harry as we call him, the sight of that orange tabard causes ripples of excitement as H Bomb climbs on top of his camping stove to adopt a prime vantage point..... The ripples are mine, the toddlers excitement is off the Richter scale. Helpful Harry with his endearing, charming smile (!) and acknowledgement of our stares, goes about his weekly routine of heaving and hurling rubbish sacks into the middle of the street. Conversation is brief and usually revolves around working out how long the lorry will take to catch him up. This week, it was 10 minutes behind but (as always) worth the wait.

The noise of the the huge vehicle turning into our road is unmistakable, the whirring, hissing, clunking and in mid-summer; stenching; is prolific, its tangible. We love it.

We love it for its predictability, for its necessity and for its drama. When will they arrive? Who will it be this week? (perhaps Harry is en vacance in espangol) Will they take all the rubbish? Whose has been rejected?  Will their 3.8 minute street record be broken? How many car horns will be sounded in the wake of the clearance?

If we're lucky an agitated driver (it's a one-way road) will sound their horn in utter frustration at the seeming nonchalance and slowness of the team but we merely look down and delight in the 'noise car makes - ohhhhhh beeeeeeeeep'. And revel in the 15 - 30 minutes the whole scene has had everyone ensconced for - marvellous, it's now only 3.5 hours until nap time.