Wednesday, 30 March 2011

Had L at home today with a dose of the lurgy. Actually it was last night but for obvious reasons decided to keep her off today. Didn't want her being caught short at school as some teachers seem to take pleasure in telling you to wait for the toilet. That would have been one wait the teacher would have regretted - big time.

She spent the day lying on the couch watching a pile of DVD's and eating everything in sight. Obviously a clear out is good for the appetite. H got ferried off to school with J. I decided to attack the ironing as I had someone to talk to. Just got started when there was a knock at the back door. Opened it to my neighbour from along the street. His first words were, ' I hope you haven't paid for that job, hen'. The job he was referring to was our newly mono-blocked driveway which has been greatly admired by all who have viewed it. We are very pleased with the job which was done by a family acquaintance who has had his business for over 25 years. He proceeded to pick holes in the job while I fumed inwardly. It is amazing how quickly you can go off people.  I couldn't make up my mind what made me madder, the fact that he thought I was daft enough to buy his false concern or that he thought we were thick enough to let someone make a hash of something and then pay them for the privilege. This couldn't have something to do with the fact that he has his own mono blocking business and we hadn't asked him? Maybe because we were party to the fact that he is notorious for making an ar*e of jobs and having to go back and fix them.  We had been warned by various folk in the street not to ask him.   I once saw him lay someones drive in the next street and two weeks later they had someone else fixing it. I ran him out with an icy goodbye and the sound of the back door slamming behind him would have wakened the dead. Cheeky git.

Off tonight to paint faces at the first performance of the school show. That should be fun. Nervous, hysterical and overacting and that's only the teachers. Thank goodness the kids seem to be laid back about it all........

Monday, 28 March 2011

Got up on Saturday morning to journey to Edinburgh to meet my good friend M. I have only met her once in ten years since I left work. (I am horrendous at keeping in touch with folk so Facebook is my saviour.) We had a great lunch and spent ages reminiscing about the good old days when instead of working we would sing 'Delilah' and 'Quando, Quando, Quando'. This was usually when the boss had disappeared and I had been left in charge. The strange thing is that we always managed to get everything done and enjoy our work at the same time. Then Hitler would return and it would be back to doom and gloom again........

Got a text before I left from E who volunteers for the Food Coop  regarding a complaint about some wonky fruit. Orders can be handed in now and the kids prepare them. Unfortunately there had been an uproar as someone had stuck in a couple of bruised apples and a grotty pear. I could have been sympathetic but my patience ran thin after the person went to great lengths to complain not once but numerous times. It had to have happened to the most moaning faced git in the village of course, and not some decent human being who was capable of understanding that ten year olds can make mistakes. I am on duty this week and I am praying that she doesn't come in as I am ready to tell her to p*ss off back to Asda. I don't mind helping nice people but I am not taking abuse from her. It  was chaos completely on Friday as the extension cable jammed so the till had to be moved and hilariously VT caught some kid drinking out the milk jug for the teas......

Why am I volunteering for this? I am logging this as another good reason for closing the bleeding thing down.......

Sunday, 27 March 2011

'Mum, did you know, donuts didn't have holes until the eighties?' Another of H's pearls of wisdom.

Went back to slimming club on Thursday night. What the hell is wrong with me? I know I do not have the right attitude and I cannot take the class seriously but I really need to get some weight off. All that clapping like seals is doing my head in. I looked round the room and honestly thought I was at a Jeremy Kyle convention and not a slimming class. I have never seen so many scary, rough looking woman in my life. I just couldn't find the excitement in making a pizza base out of Smash......was glad to leave and even gladder that I had lost a pound and a half since my last exciting visit. I think it's chill pill time.......

Arrived in school to help with the first dress rehearsal for the school show. Chaos reigned. I was given the unfunny and stressful job of cornering kids in classrooms and asking if they had all the parts for their costumes. This would have been easier had the right costumes been in the right classrooms.  I sat down to watch holding two stray monkey tails and just about wet myself when the elephants tried to walk on stage. Large hooped grey trousers were covered with a grey blanket and the lucky kid in the head end was wearing two ears on a band and had one arm down a tumble drier tube for a trunk. Chernobyl elephants! They plodded onto stage losing the blankets in the process and ending up with open air backsides. Priceless! It's always the things that go disastrously wrong that are the most hilarious. It would appear minor adjustments are needing made there!

By Friday I had had a Snickers bar and Bag of Chili Doritos. Forgive me Slimming World for I have sinned........again.

Thursday, 24 March 2011

Day No 3 in Bob the Builder land. I now have a large gaping wound in my back lawn, holes in my driveway and safety tape strung across my front step. I observed the disaster zone as Hannibal, cigar hanging from gob and a**e hanging from jeans, grinned and said, 'I'll be worth it in the end Hen'. Of course ironically the weather is reaching tropical proportions for this time of  year and I have finally managed to part company with my padded coat. It is brilliant drying weather but I can't peg out my washing because of clouds of dust and cigar reek. I will have the only house in the street with nicotine stains on the outside walls.....

Had arranged to go down to sew the elephant ears this afternoon only to get a curt phone call  on the way there from S,  informing me the school was trying to get me. I arrived in school to find H in the sick room with a long face informing me he 'had a sore tummy'.  I took one look at him and instinct told  me he was at it. As it was lunch time I took him to the cafe for observation. There he scoffed a roll on sausage but insisted he was still sore. I took him home, more because VT looked at me like I was an uncaring mother,  than because I truly believed he was ill. I put on the telly and left him on the couch to hoover the bedroom. Five minutes later I found him chatting to the builders in the midst of the muck. Take what he got......

Wednesday, 23 March 2011

The builders arrived yesterday morning to start work in the garden. I really cannot stand having workies in the house so thought that builders in the drive would be bearable. They rolled up in their van at 8am and sat for half an hour. The boss (a sort of fat Hannibal from the A team) sat sucking on a massive cigar while the others drank coffee and read their papers. They finally decided to get out the van at 8.30. I took off to school to escape the carnage as they ripped up my drive and started digging up my back lawn. I made up my mind not to return until after 3.30.

At the school sweatshop we have problems of a different kind. Our elephant ears wont stiffen so we decided to sew up monkey costumes instead. I ended up having to help six P7 boys try on and adjust their tree costumes. They looked at me in horror at what they were going to wear. If they have any street cred now it is going to disappear by next week when they have to dance on stage wearing a brown sack with floppy tendrils and branches. I told them it could be worse and showed them the bush costumes with pink flowers and they cheered up no end. With makeup on they will look really good. I have been asked to help with the stage make up so it looks like I have blagged myself a free viewing of the show - three times.

Just as I was finishing 'A' and 'I' showed up fresh from a school trip round Linlithgow Palace so we hopped off to the new garden centre which opened last week. We wandered round and finally went to their cafe/ restaurant place for something to eat. I have never seen so many delicious cakes in my life.  We spent ages oohing and ahhing over them. Surrounded by OAPS (it was cheap Tuesday for wrinklies), we were just about mown down in the stampede for afternoon tea.

Arrived home to have my next door neighbour tripping over herself in her haste to inform me that 'the builders left at 3'.  Great,  now I have the Builder Police living next door........

Monday, 21 March 2011

Off to Edinburgh on Saturday with L for a shopping trip. If I go shopping with her it usually means a pilgrimage round the shops she likes. So we stopped at H&M where I was rooked for some new Summer stuff. In all honesty she is really good when it comes to clothes and after having sent half her wardrobe to my niece, was really needing some new stuff. She faffed about picking up some crackers which I managed to dissuade her from, silently thanking my lucky stars that she has her dad's easy going nature and not mine. Meanwhile over in Nerdsville,  H was off to the museum with his dad. He has a pathological hatred for shops and as a result a family visit to 'the toon' usually means us splitting up or he would be strangled within thirty minutes of arriving.  Got dragged to Build a Bear and then onto Next,  Jenner's toy dept and the Candy shop.

Got up this morning in a psychotic mood. PMT. Could feel  myself simmering as I made the sandwiches. Had a mental vision of the kids and S behind a wall of sandbags in the dining room with tin helmets on waiting on the explosion. It came at exactly 8.09 am when I opened the door of H's bedroom to a midden. Shrieked at him like a lunatic and then shut myself in the bedroom for a greet. Felt so much better. The house was quiet and the bedrooms were looking tidy as everyone went into a 'clean up quick' frenzy. I saw my motivational poster on the wall in my mind's eye. (You know the sort of posters companies put on office walls, with 'helpful' slogans to motivate their cheesed off staff).  Mine had a photo of me in psycho mode with the following below.

PMT
Gets sh*t done - and quick

Friday, 18 March 2011

Comic Relief. Am watching now. Tomorrow when I get out of bed, I am going to embrace the day and say thanks for what I'm damned lucky to have and not moan about what we I really cant do without. It's certainly not a bed or food or a roof over my head. There's enough folk doing without already....

Its a bloody scandal that in our country a twelve year old girl is a carer to her sick mum. David Cameron and cronies yank your heads out of the sand. It's shameful.

Tonight is not 'comic' at all......enjoy your weekend....

Wednesday, 16 March 2011

Homework. I am sure it is given to parents to teach them some sort of lesson and not the kids. Tonight I have just had a stand up row with L over her maths and the only lesson that has been learned is the fact that I am really c**p at teaching it and that I need to take a serious chill pill.  I am now wallowing in guilt for losing the head.  While I have no objection to homework there is never a moment when it is actually appropriate for doing.  After school is rubbish.  If the weather is rotten they just want to chill, if its good they want out and who am I to deny them the limited daylight left for playing?  After dinner is worse - they are tired, need a bath and in general cooperation is not good.   AND DO NOT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE P5 PROJECTS!  An absolute atrocity and major bug bear.  This time we have chosen Austria for the scant reason that L likes the 'Sound of Music' and by watching it 5000 times she thinks it makes her an expert on all things Austrian.  Minimum 10 pages with 20 headings and accompanying pictures, souvenirs and PowerPoint if you like.  My blood pressure is rising as the last talk she had to do was major insult to S and myself who mainly did it. Were told it was too short (7 A4 pages) and that she shouldn't have read it. That was after helping her write it, make up a PowerPoint presentation, get appropriate background music and the result. Could do better. I felt like it was a personal slur on my own intelligence.  L couldn't have given a monkeys.

Went back to Aqua fit this morning after a fortnight of respite due to my dodgy back. Was delighted to hear that Cheesy is coming back for a regular slot on a Monday and Friday. Yayy!  Skinny Thighs Girl and the Ferret have got the heave ho. You can never have enough cheese........


How do you solve a problem like school projects?  Get a large receptacle more commonly known as a wheelie bin, place inside and shut the lid..  Voila!

Tuesday, 15 March 2011

Watched an eighties music programme on telly and it got us reminiscing about our teenage years. The daft fashions, the mad music and the fact that every ones heads must have been a fire hazard as they were always caked with hairspray.  I will never forget Boy George's first appearance on 'Top of the Pops'. It took the full thirty minutes for us to decide whether he was male or female. The look on my Dad's face was a picture. Our teenage idols were an interesting bunch, my sister had Boy George and Morton Harket on her walls. Morton was a bit of alright. Then there was Simon Le Bon or John Taylor or the king of cool himself - Paul Weller. I had Jim Kerr in a moody black and white shot with a dove in his hands on my wall and a Simple Minds t-shirt that was worn until it could just about walk itself.  Oh and Bros. So bad there was actually something likeable about them. After my sister ditched A-Ha I had them to contend with. Tripping over her bottle topped shoes and all.  I hated being a teenager. Too young to be taken seriously but too old to misbehave. It was probably my least favorite decade but as soon as I hear the music the good times come back. Karma Chameleon anyone?

On the subject of teenagers, our company on Saturday night mainly consisted of long suffering parents of teenage kids. I  like teenagers. I enjoy their company and am beginning to wonder if it is because I have not mentally progressed any further than them. I always get a laugh with them.  Come to think of it they are probably not laughing with me but at me and thinking what a silly old cow. After all when you are a teenager anybody over twenty five is ancient.  I love the moody, couldn't give a toss lads whose only means of communication is a grunt, and the appearance obsessed girls with their thing for wearing fake flowers in the hair at the moment (teen fashion - don't ya just love it) and the ability to make themselves look about ten years older. The four couples we were with have kids ranging from thirteen right up to twenty one. We have known the kids for years and it has been amazing watching them grow up. The stories we heard would have made you cringe. One lad had asked his mum to buy him condoms 'just incase'. Changed days. My mother would have had fit with her leg up and dragged me off to the local blacksmith to have a chastity belt made. I wish mine would stay nine and six. I don't think I am ready for them to be more grown up than me.
 
In all honesty the reason we worry about teens is because they make you remember all the dodges you got up to yourself. It's no darned wonder we don't trust them.....


Today's million dollar question: How as teenagers were we oblivious to the fact that George Michael was gay? Just watched an old repeat of him mincing about to 'Wake Me Up Before You Go Go'. More camp than the Bangkok Lady Boys at a Liberace concert and yet everybody lusted after him like poodles on heat. Must have been the hormones.......or were we just plain daft?

Monday, 14 March 2011

BLOODY TESCO! Up this morning to rain so cadged a lift to the school for the kids and set about clearing up the weekends carnage.  Decided to clean the fridge in anticipation of the shopping delivery due to arrive between 10 and 12. Nine forty five and the phone rings. 'Hello it's Tesco, the van has broken down so I might be late or not there at all.' I sent an icy blast of sarcasm down the phone ' Oh fine. I'll just starve my children tonight then will I?'  Poor guy, a sh***y start to Monday morning not helped by legions of customers giving him abuse, myself included.

Phoned a repair shop to get my sewing machine fixed. I think the rhino balls were just too much for it. It has finally given up the ghost. Didn't particularly like the repairman I spoke to - he was a smart assed git, but decided to be nice as I really need it fixed, and cutting off my nose to spite my face would have meant trailing it to Edinburgh.

My back is still not right and I am toying with the idea of visiting the chiropractor. He was the man who put me back on my feet when L was eleven weeks old and I was incapable of walking due to back problems. I consider him to be a miracle worker. I literally crawled into his clinic and walked back out.  S gets mad at the fact that I won't see medics about it but the one and only time I have (which drove me in desperation to see the chiro) I was told that it was 'my prerogative if I decided not to take painkillers, (I was feeding L myself) and was left lying on the living room floor with a baby to deal with. I doubt that they would do anything other than give me painkillers (which I can get from my neighbour anyway) and I don't want to be a space cadet constantly, well no more than normal.......

Oh and I am suffering from Zumba withdrawal, I keep dreaming about Ricky Martin singing 'La Vida Loca' in front of a bunch of middle aged women shaking their bon bons........mind you that could be more down to Tramodol withdrawal than missing the exercise......

Tesco arrived at 12.05. Not bad going, only 5 minutes later than expected. Poor wee man, he must have ran every red light in the area to catch up.........

Scratch that. The twit has driven away and forgotten to deliver some of it! Blood pressure rising..........

Thursday, 10 March 2011

Had a full scale rant at H last night. It was one of those rants which reminded me of when you run down a hill and yours legs run away from you and you have no control. My mouth ran away from me and I had no control. Went into his room and I can honestly say that it was like a complete junkyard. Cardboard boxes stuck together, paper clippings, books, toys and miscellaneous c**p lying about it. I started and this time I could not stop. I could hear my voice which had taken on a higher tone than normal shrieking about putting stuff in buckets etc., while H stood there struggling to find an expression suitable for the occasion. He settled on an eyes down, ashamed face which no doubt only lasted until I had flounced out. Then he probably went back to cutting paper up and depositing it on the floor again......

What would we do without Facebook? It's a funny thing but three years ago I didn't even know what it was, now I check it every day and it is a great way to keep in touch with people, even those abroad who you only see once in a blue moon. What I will say is though that it always perplexes me how some people send a friend request to you ......and they don't actually speak to you.....ever.  They may pass you in the street every day and not look the road you're on but heck you'll do to boost their friend quotas.  I have no desire to have a million friends on Facebook. I am quite happy to have the friends on it that I have. If you are on my page it is A. because you are unfortunate enough to feature prominently in my life (i.e. I see you every day) and I might need to send you an urgent message (I really don't like using the phone unless for texts).  B. because I don't see you every day but like you or C. because you live far away, I like you and it is a way for me to keep in touch easily. I have had a few weird friend requests. The first and most disturbing has to have been from a foreign gentleman who I will call Steven (because that was his name). He sent me two bizarre messages asking if 'I was one of Malcolm's wives?' I can only assume he was randomly trawling Facebook and my face popped up resembling some polygamist's spouse. He then sent a message asking 'who the little boy was?' He meant H and at that point he was told in the words of the late, great Michael Jackson to 'Beat it'...........

Back to the sweatshop tomorrow where I have now advanced from bushes and prickly pears to wolves' ears. Spent this afternoon designing and sewing headbands to attach them to. Aforementioned headbands looked okay however the ears looked more like a rhino's dangly bits much to our amusement. We are getting there though and tomorrow is attaching monkey tails to jazz pants (whatever they are)........

Wednesday, 9 March 2011

H comes home from school last night and is very quiet. Finally he creeps up onto my knee and bursts into tears. I ask whats wrong and he tells me he can't do his maths. I ask why and he says 'there's too much noise in the class mummy, I can't concentrate'.  It turns out he can do his maths but the racket puts him off. I promise to speak to his teacher. Sure enough this afternoon his very nice young teacher comes out and informs me that H has asked for a quiet seat so he can 'concentrate'. So now he can sit at a desk outside the door in the corridor when he is doing his maths work if he wants. OMG it used to be you got chucked out there if you were causing an uproar. Just wait til the heidy comes along and assumes he's out there for misbehaviour.

Off to another charity night at the chapel hall on Saturday.  At this rate they will be thinking I am RC as I am in the place more than some of the regulars. Its a race night this time and I am secretly hoping for a good run on the raffle like last time and no Sweeney style getaways. I suppose I should think myself lucky if I don't get trampled in stampede for the buffet......

S has been given some boxed sets of the series 'Dexter' to watch. For those who have not experienced Dexter, it is about a guy who works as a blood splatter analyst for the police but just happens to be a serial killer in his spare time (as you do). He only kills bad people so I suppose that must be okay then?! To be honest the whole show gives me the heebie jeebies and I have been sneaking off to bed early. Dismembered bodies and a warped leading man are not conducive of a good nights sleep.......

Tuesday, 8 March 2011

It is official...I have given birth to a nerd. H is looking through his magazine and shows me a picture of the worlds largest Lego tower.  I ask him if he likes Lego (he never plays with it!) but he says 'No Mum, I prefer the science of particles' and goes back to his magazine. I despair. He will never get a woman if that's his line of chat.

Back not good again today so have to cancel Aqua fit. Decide to double my Trammy intake which works a treat as long as I keep moving.  Sit down and I start to drop off so decide to attack L's wardrobe and clear out all her old clothes. What a job. Two hours later I have three black bags of varying levels of clothing. The stuff for the charity shop and the stuff to pass on. I also have an empty wardrobe which means I will have to take her and get some new stuff. A trip is arranged for Saturday much to her delight. Wish she had a big cousin like H has. He has an endless stream of coats and jeans and stuff while L's is passed on to my nieces. My older niece who is five recently informed someone that her dress was 'L's from the loft' when someone admired it. Cringe.

Off to N's today for lunch with 'I'. Hope she's baked chocolate muffins......

Sunday, 6 March 2011

Old age doesn't come easily and today I feel about a hundred.

Giving it big licks in Zumba on Thursday and at the cool down everything was hunky dory until I felt a muscle tighten in my back. I was glad the class was over and hurpled home. 'I' tipped me out of her car in front of the house and I went inside and stood in a hot shower in a vain attempt to reverse the after effects. No luck. The last time this happened I was carted off to the hospital bent in two. They stuck a Voltarol jag in my rear end and gave me diazepam to loosen the muscle which worked a treat. I had no desire to get carted off there so decided on a do it myself approach to the problem which ended up with me unable to straighten up properly. Had some lunch and shuffled off to the sweatshop for an afternoon session thinking a walk would loosen it off. On the road down I realised that things were not good but had got down too far to struggle back home again.

After school as I shuffled back up the road (being over taken by someone with a stick and a gang load of pensioners) I realised I was in the s**t.  My saving grace was catching a kid using swear words which got my goat big time (I am crabbit at the best of times so it was his unlucky day). I gave him a tongue lashing about using foul language much to L's mortification,  but then realised getting mad made me walk faster so I finally made it home. My next door neighbour helpfully asked me what was up as I was 'walking like I had peed myself'. Thanks. Redeemed herself though by giving me some of her Tramodol. Walking like a geriatric and incontinent to boot. All I need is a grey rinse and a shopping trolley and I will be a fully paid up member of the 'over the hill club'.

Have spent the weekend in a Tramodol induced haze.....

Wednesday, 2 March 2011

This week has been totally uneventful. Nothing funny, irritating or interesting has happened. How boring.....

Off to Aqua fit today to find that 'the Ferret' has been replaced by a woman who has the thinnest thighs I have ever seen in my life.  I couldn't really concentrate on the class for looking and wondering if I ever had thighs that thin and came to the conclusion that I probably never had - even as a teenager.  When she stood straight on you could have driven a car between them.

Fortunately 'Cheesy' has been back at Zumba for a few weeks after having been given five bags to blood. I don't know whose blood he got but I am beginning to think it has come from some crazy athlete they have locked in an institution. He is bouncing with energy and throwing himself into it big time, rests are not allowed in between dances. Thought my knees were going to buckle on Tuesday morning....

Meanwhile, over at the school sweatshop, show costumes are being churned out at a great pace. In a small room behind the stage three of us are machining for all we are worth.  If they start asking me to put labels on things I am going to get suspicious. This is made a harder by the fact that we are quite literally surrounded by tonnes of fabric. New stuff, second hand stuff, dubious donated curtains (there can't be a teacher down there with anything on their windows) and old costumes which are being butchered to make new ones. Visitors are advised not to leave any items of clothing lying about as they run the risk of coming back to find them cut up and turned into a palm tree or monkey costume.  I have the lovely job of making bush costumes which involves sewing leaves and flowers onto brown tops. I had to go to the office to get a safety pin as I had forgotten to bring some . When asked what they were for I couldn't resist replying 'I am elasticating my bush'.  Took off quickly leaving VT with a stunned look on her face..........

L is progressing with her flute and is now managing very simple tunes. However she has not yet mastered the art of counting beats in a bar and at every practice S and I are made to count to four over and over again. Without being mean it is getting a bit wearing.  All together now, 1.2.3.4, 1.2.3.4..........