'Present' Danger

I came across this when I was clearing out my half finished posts from ages back - a timely find really, but feel sort of mean, because I got brilliant Christmas presents this year... 

'Hope you like it!' he says and I smile politely,

(thinking that's going to be very unlikely),

and bless him, because I know he tries,

but when it comes to clothes they're never my size...

Jewellery's dodgy,
music's okay,

though I'm more Stereophonics
and he likes Doris Day.

I open my present. There's a torch inside.

'You just wind it with the handle.'
I almost cried

'So useful sweetheart, hope you like yours',

it's Rick Stein's India,
there's a pregnant pause...

'Wow…that looks just great…' He never cooks.

But he does like spice
and he does like books.

He starts fiddling with the torch and I flick through Rick Stein,

everyone's happy, it's all turned out fine.

So, I buy what I want, it's simply stress free

when a gift's from me

to you

to me.

Giving a hoot about dressing-up days

I'd hazard a guess that for many parents, events like World Book Day are less about the joy of reading, and more about the angst of finding a 'favourite character' costume for the kids to wear to school. And preferably not Harry Potter or Hermione…though you can't knock the quick-delve-in-the-drawers-or-dressing-up-box option.
In my daughter's class last World Book Day there were nine Harry Potters and 4 Matildas (blue dress and a hair band) - I know this, because she was one of them.

On the whole, I tend to stubbornly steer clear of competitive dressing-up - apart from possibly Mr Twit's Beard a few years ago. I did get quite carried away with Mr Twit's Beard!

But then the other day, I got one of those forlorn looks from my daughter that just made me sort of crumple inside.
Her class had to dress up in something purple for a special party at her new school - I was chuffed to bits to find a purple cardy and a dress with purplish flowers.
She wasn't so chuffed…especially when she saw her friends glammed up in sparkly lycra, Strictly style. That's when I got the look.
The best dressed prize went to an impressive bunch of grapes.

BAsically I was shamed into action. So, when a letter came home about the school's book week with a dressing-up day thrown in for good measure, I thought I'd pull out all the stops.
By the way, don't be worrying you've inadvertently missed something: the official World Book Day isn't for months - this just seems to be a warm up!

Anyway, we settled on Hedwig, Harry Potter's snowy owl - somewhat random, and a rather liberal interpretation of the 'favourite character' theme, but it fitted with my 'make stuff for school rule', which is, only things I've already got at home are allowed. Definitely no buying.

I had a sheet, a balloon and plenty of newspaper.

The dressing-up day is tomorrow and I still haven't finished ….if it works out I'll post a pic!

Loom band loopy

Now I realise not everyone will know the joys of loom bands…. but for those who do, this may ring true….

I'd like to meet the Loom Band guy and shake him by the hand,

then cuff him with a fishtail chain made from those stretchy bands...

Yes, I KNOW they help kids concentrate and weave stuff on a loom,

but I'm sick of finding hoards of them in every single room.

They've turned up in the cat's food dish and on the loo brush doofer,

and if my lot want any more they'll find them in the hoover.



Linking up with Prose for Thought

Daft Bird

Mr Pheasant you're a beauty, of that there is no doubt,
just such a shame when you were made they left the brain bit out.

I see you on the road ahead and know it's time to pray
for you to leg it to the verge, not turn the other way...

But there you go, you daft old bird, charging for my car,
You dice with death, I hold my breath and think how dim you are.

Phew! It's okay! You got away. It was a little tight.
Things would be so different if you knew your left from right.

Foiled again

When it comes to kids and Easter eggs
no matter what you say,
the foil gets ripped to tiny shreds
that seem to go astray...

So once all eggs are eaten,
and chocolate is a chore,
there'll be shiny bright reminders
twinkling on the floor.

They somehow spread from room to room,
like Easter time confetti,
there's bound to be a few of them
stuck behind your settee.

And however much you hoover,
however much you try,
You can be sure
that sometime soon
a glint will catch you eye.

Ode to Croissants

Beaming crispy crescents

lying in a pile,

Hard resisting something

that looks like a smile )

The flaky bakey loveliness

sets many tums aflutter,

Possibly because they're made

with half a ton of butter.

Try not to look, to catch a smile

and focus on the bread,

But it's no use, I leave the shop

with five croissants instead.

(no prizes for guessing where we are at the moment…enjoying some sunshine and frequent visits to the Boulangerie :)

Competitive? Moi?

'Miss says we have to tell all you parents to keep your hands behind your backs!'

Like that's going to happen.

It's competition time again; the St David's Day Eisteddfod - a Festival of music, poetry, baking and model making, held in schools across Wales. Absolutely guaranteed to bring out a steely competitive edge in many a parent.

Even ones you least suspect.

Is that me? Probably. I'm really not inclined to be competitive about most stuff, but give me a craft challenge and I'm suddenly possessed by a Blue Peter-like zeal to produce something simply glorious. Just can't stop myself.

We all tend to do more than we should, don't we? Frankly I think anyone who insists they haven't helped their child with his or her cardboard creation is a big fibber. And I'm putting my hand up here, because I've taken 'helping' to the nth degree.

Now, you know how much I like making things out of rubbish - and at home I'll quite happily let the kids get on with creating whatever they fancy: no interfering…but when it's school bound, that's a game changer. As much as I'd like to be relaxed about it, I just can't let them take in any old tat.

So this happens.

I know.

It was my son's idea to make a model of the Statue of Liberty…and that's about all he did, bless him. Basically I got completely carried away. Out came the empty yogurt and marg pots and the tin foil, and then I thought, what about some papier mache? Honestly I had the best time.

Our model didn't even get placed.

It so obviously wasn't made by a 7 year old. I was far too embarrassed to say a thing.

Did I learn my lesson? Don't be mad. What I learnt was to tone it down a bit.

Fast forward to this year's competition, and my 9 year old had to make a Dragon. Attached to the letter about the Festival categories was a slip all parents had to sign, declaring no help had been given beyond a little guidance.

Oh dear.

New school, new rules. Suddenly it all seemed terribly official, which presented a bit of a dilemma, seeing as on the whole I'm quite law-abiding. It's different somehow when you actually have to sign something.

So, to get round feeling like a complete fraud and a cheat, who's bound to get caught and hauled before the Headmistress, I made another dragon alongside my son for him to copy - not saying there wasn't the odd helpful snip here and there, but, on the whole it was his own work.

I really needn't have worried, because on the way into school today I saw one mum carrying a beautiful clay dragon. I'm quite sure it had been glazed and fired. And my son told me his best friend's dragon had legs that moved and a CAVE.

Think I'm going to have to up my game again…

(By the way, if anyone's interested in instructions for an egg box dragon, just let me know!)

Keeping notes

The 6 year old is going through a bit of a note writing stage. Always furtively scribbling away - and no one's allowed to look - then little letters and cards just appear, by our bed, on the table, or in my knitting bag - all kinds of places.

They are terribly sweet and funny….and numerous. I've kept the best ones, but I'm afraid the rest have been 'filed away'. I've learnt to be careful though, after all hell broke loose when she found a few I'd filed in the recycling pile…

This one's a keeper.

The Gallery: The turquoise trouser suit

I think it's fair to say my fashion sense has never been that great...

I remember loving this smart little nylon number - not sure who got it for me though - definitely wasn't my mum because she couldn't bear it.

I don't know why she didn't just make the suit mysteriously disappear. I've tried this a few times, but annoyingly my daughter has a knack of finding whatever it is before I've squirrelled it out of the house.

On the day the picture was taken, my cousins were coming to stay, and I was determined to show off my trouser suit. Of course as soon as mum caught a glimpse of turquoise, she told me in no uncertain terms to change - I point blank refused and was sent to my room…she really must have hated it!
When I heard the cousins arriving, I sneaked out and climbed through a small window at the side of the house, casually joining everyone outside by the car as if nothing had happened - and I was pretty certain mum would be too busy to make a fuss.

But she did make a point of taking this photo. Even though she knew it would be years before I actually got the point….

Now I have reasonably regular clothes battles with my 6 year old, which she usually wins - but I do take photos of her more memorable outfits.  For later.

Plenty more classic photos over at The Gallery - the theme this week is A Younger Me.