Return to normality

It's over, for another year anyway....  We had a lovely relaxed Christmas Day. We'd told the children not to open any presents, nor wake their parents, until they could see that it was light outside.  So Tom snuck into our room at 7.30am, exclaiming that 'He'd been' and also that he 'could see the hedge in the garden, so it must be light outside'.  Well played, if I say so myself.

Our neighbours, K & J had invited us round to Xmas lunch this year - which was lovely as their children, H & A, play well with our two.  They live 3 doors down the road from us, so it was very easy to arrange, and not at all difficult to take our nut-roasts balanced on top of the Apple and Blackberry Crumble - an alternative pudding for those who don't like traditional Christmas Pudding.

There was a little fussiness by Tom (7) about lunch, which may have been the prelude to his vomiting later that night, at 2.30am, and again at 3am.  We stayed at home on Boxing Day (26th December), in case anything further developed, but he was as right as rain.  'Better out than in' as the saying goes.

The next day (27th) we'd planned a trip to the cinema to see 'Frozen' and combined it with a shopping expedition.  This isn't because I like shopping.  In fact, there's nothing I'd like to do less, but unfortunately the Kangol Hat Simon had given me for Xmas needed to go back for exchange, and the nearest TK Maxx store is in Swindon.  (The hat cloche shape in itself was fine, just I wouldn't have chosen fluffy dyed rabbit fur, and not with the leather 'belt' detail.)

To get to TK Maxx involved a trip to the other side of Swindon... via the (in)famous 'Magic Roundabout.  I'd never heard of it until we moved hereabouts, and I've only been round it once before, but it's not something I'd like to do too readily.  It's a roundabout made up of 5 smaller roundabouts, and is designed to keep traffic moving, albeit slowly.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magic_Roundabout_(Swindon)

Well, I learned something from that link.

So. A quick trip to exchange the hat, for a nice handbag, and then we headed onto the Swindon Outlet Centre - a bit like Bicester Village - lots of 'designer' shops in a mall, selling discounted goods.  The 'mall' used to be the Great Western Railway buidings/sheds, so the architecture was of interest.  We whizzed along trying to find Phoebe some footwear.  I shan't say 'shoes' because she hates shoe shopping.

We invariably end up with school shoes only because her height dictates that to avoid falling over too much her feet must be adequately large.  UK size 8 and 8.5.  Eur 43/44 (this is open to debate).  USA size 11?  The problem here is that most ladies shoe shops only stock up to UK size 8.  Her half-size foot is therefore her Achilles Heel, if you'll forgive the pun!  As luck would have it we eventually found her some 'biker' style black boots with 2cm chunky heel which she deemed acceptable.  Phew.

Although I don't like shopping I saw the opportunity to find new pasta bowls.  We actually needed some new ones as the ones we had have this year finally cracked from use and there's only one of them left from the set.  They were a wedding present to us, back in 1995, so they've not done too badly.  Fortunately I found a style I liked in John Lewis - the Portmerion range had quite a substantial discount.  Original selling price on the 'botanic garden' range pasta bowl, £14.50.  Reduced price -75% @ £3.62.  I got six. Thank you very much!

We thought it would be fun to have lunch at Ed's Easy Diner.  We'd not been in one for about 15 years - there's one in Brighton, and certainly one or more in London.

http://www.edseasydiner.com/index.php

Ah-ha.  According to the website, there's now 27 around the country.  Not the 'logical' choice for a vegetarian, but the veggie burgers are both good.  It's the atmosphere that's the attraction, and they still had 'it' whatever 'it' is.  If you're near one I recommend you go there.

I'd go back to the Outlet Centre - as there's a National Trust Centre to visit, and STEAM as well.  http://www.steam-museum.org.uk/

Lunch done, we went to the cinema (thankfully avoiding the Magic Roundabout this time), and saw the 2.20pm showing of the new Disney movie 'Frozen'.  The children enjoyed it, and I cried, as usual.  I still want to see that 'Saving Mr Banks', and the poster for the new Coen Brothers film out 28th January looks good.

Simon driving home gives me an opportunity to be a frustrated birdwatcher.  Well.  Me driving is also opportunity, but I have to keep my eyes on the road.  Doh.  I'd love to have more time to pursue this old interest of mine, but I have to get my fix where I can, and this usually entails keeping my eyes and ears open whilst dog-walking.

Anyhoo, it's a good 40 minutes to and from Swindon.  I saw a couple of Kestrals hovering at the road verge, pretty sure the 'big' raptor was a Buzzard and not a Kite, and returning on the A417, in the half-light of dusk at around 4.20pm I saw my first murmuration.  Which was magical and extremely frustrating as we were in traffic and the verges are too high to pull over and park on.  Even if I'd had my camera I'd not have had time to capture it.  Perhaps there's a use after all for those google glasses that hit the news this year?

Night night y'all.  Kat.

Up together

I'd like to be more 'up together' with my blogging, but life usually intervenes and it's a hit and miss affair again.

So, obviously it's been busy since last posting (1st December).  The end of a school term is always frantic, and then there's the subterfuge of buying, hiding, wrapping and hiding the Christmas gifts.  We've an advantage this year as Tom's staying with his grandparents for a week, which makes the wrapping and hiding much easier without prying eyes....  Our children's schools break up a week before the state schools, so the usual childcare option isn't available.  Thank goodness for Grandma and Grandad - in so many ways....  :)

So far as Christmas goes, as of today I'm fairly 'up together'.  The presents are, for the most part, wrapped and hidden.  The ironing's done.  Full-stop.   The kitchen floor is mopped, although why I bother at this time of the year is a constant frustration - there seems very little point in mopping the kitchen floor only for it to be muddied immediately by dog paws.  It's not the dog's fault, it's the weather.  When we get the kitchen re-done I'll replace the 50cm cream tiles that are there presently with traditional country kitchen quarry tiles, thank you very much.  I'm practical first and foremost.

On a practicalities front there was an unwelcome development when I got home from work this evening.  One of the hens had died.  I half expected it, but not as quickly as that.  The remaining speckeldy must have been 4 years old, and after her sister had died in August I'd been keeeping an eye on her.  She'd had a mucky back end for a while, but seemed OK, and with some worming stuff in the water she seemed to rally, and her back end had appeared much cleaner, drier and her feathers nice and fluffy after the moult.

I was slightly concerned this morning to see her isolating herself from the other two, and had noticed her hunched stance, but in my experience with other birds this is usually a signal to observe.  There's no easy way to decide when the right time is to despatch a hen, but I'll do it if I have to, and have done so in the past.  Not this time.   She wasn't in 'bed' with the other two, so I had a quick search round of their enclosure (in the dark, in this evening's pelting rain, with my head torch on) and spotted her on her side, legs sticking out stiffly.

I've yet to dispose of the body.  I'm still in my work gear, and it's still raining.  It seems a little disrespectful to leave her outside all night, and I'm not sure what I'll find in the morning if I do leave her, so will probably get changed and sort it out after this.

On a lighter note, I've good news to share. I've got a new job, starting 20th January.  I'll still be in the Library Service, but will be working Tuesday morning, Wednesday afternoon and all day Friday at Witney Library on a permanent contract.  It'll be very different to the last two years at Grove, but I've learned a lot, and my contract was due to end end of April.  I'm looking forward to the challenge.

We chose the pantomime 'Aladdin' for our festive display in the library this year.  Note the pointy shoes and turban in front of the genie/jinni.  I made them. 'Junk modelling' and papier-mache!  Not bad, if I say so myself.... My boss's son did the artwork for the characters on the wall - we're really pleased with the effect.  We had to move the treasure box of chocolate coins further along the shelves as they were being melted by the wall-heater.

Right ho. The mince pies won't make themselves.  I'll knock up some pastry, and then I've two jars of last year's home-made mincemeat, so they should be good.

Night y'all.
Kat  :)

Relative Values

My cousin asked me a question back in July, and I've been thinking about it ever since.  In fact, I've probably been thinking about it all my adult life, and, to be frank, I'm not entirely sure I've got an answer to it.

"Hey, K, is it worth it?".  "What?". "Having kids.  Is it worth it?".  "I'm not sure." I think I said, or 'maybe, it's complicated' or 'who knows?'...  all answers I'd have blurted out in shock at being asked such a direct and powerful question.

So. Having considered it for some time now, how do I answer the question?  With trepidation.  If I were an economist doing a cost-benefit analysis on whether having children was worth it, I'd have to say no, probably not.  In a strict how much does it cost question we have to include the financial costs, the physical costs and the emotional costs.

Financially, the costs can be severe, but not actually as much as some newspapers report, and not if you take a common sense approach to providing for your offspring.  In my opinion, baby doesn't need to have everything/anything new.  Baby doesn't know or care if the clothes come from a charity shop, so long as they're clean, and baby doesn't know a mothercare buggy from a bugaboo, phil&jane, or hand-me-down, so long as it's safe.

The cost of raising a child is directly proportional to the influence marketing has on unimaginative and time pressed parents (who buy/spend to make up for not spending time with the child/working long hours), and the competitive element which is evident at the creche/nursery/school gates.  Obviously if splashing out on buying the 'best' for your child gives you pleasure, then by all means, go ahead, knock yourself out.  You're only putting money in the pockets of the businessman.

The one thing your child craves more than anything else is your time, because in their eyes, time equals love.  If you haven't the time, or aren't really prepared to make the time, then maybe you're not ready, nor will ever be ready to be a parent.

Physically, the costs can also be severe.  Assuming you're blessed with a baby which is 'normal', the physical toll will still be immense.  Pregnancy issues aside, the early days with your bundle of joy can be the most demanding time you'll ever experience.  Sleep deprivation is recognised as a form of torture, and most new parents will suffer from this to a greater or lesser extent.  Tactically, is it better to let the mother get on with it, so the father (assuming he's on the scene) can perform at work (assuming he chooses to go to work), or do you share the load and have two knackered parents which puts a strain on the relationship?  Or will this shared torture make them stronger together?

Emotionally, the costs depend on how engaged you are with the child.  The (all consuming) worry when they have their first illness, their next and subsequent illness, their innoculations, their knees scraped, their confidence knocked or bolstered... Their first everything, their tears, their tantrums, their behaviour, good or bad, their eye contact, their smile, their scowl, tears, jokes, tantrums, boy/girlfriend, broken heart, mended heart, burnt fingers - literally and metaphorically - their joy, their achievements, their life.

But.  A cost-benefit analysis suggests you get something in return.  There must be some benefit to having children, or why would we do it?  Biology suggests we have the imperative to reproduce, and indeed this is a great force to be reckoned with.

I reckoned with it for a long time.  In as much as in my twenties I swore I'd never have children.  They cramp your style.  They spoil your life - there's no freedom, no spontanity - if you have children you need a babysitter.  A pension.  Life insurance.  A house.  A mortgage.  A car.   Responsibility... You have to grow up yourself. Where's the fun in that?  I'd rather have fun myself.

And yet.  There are some people out there who are obviously 'meant' to have children. I wasn't one of them, until I hit 34 and my biological clock started to ring. Very loudly.  And we had Phoebe. And when we'd got over the shock of her, 5 years, and one miscarriage later, we had Tom.

And having a daughter was such a shock, such a life jolting moment, such an immense joy that you don't question the cost.  You don't ask 'is it worth it?' (well, maybe at 2am when the baby doesn't sleep, or 2am when the teenager's still out at night). You're just completely absolutely wholeheartedly one hundred percent in love, and from that moment on it doesn't stop.

The most powerful thing I know is the love I feel for my children. And is that worth it?  Yes.  Question answered.

The greatest gift

In my opinion the greatest gift that you can give, or receive, is, time.  The reason I think this is that that time, once spent, cannot be recovered.  You can't go back. Duh.!!  It's so easy to squander time on the mundane.  And no matter how hard you try, you can't make up for lost time.  Therefore time spent with your family or friends is priceless.

Which goes a little way to explaining why I'm not writing much here tonight, but rather will photo-journalise what's been happening....

Autumn berries,

muddy dog walking,

Misty morning towards Didcot power station from Faringdon Folly hill

'Selfie' with Roly

1st picking of neighbour Mick's quinces

Soda bread with Phoebe's left-over buttermilk...

Served with quince jelly... yum!

Crunchy leaves at Badbury Clump/Hill/Castle

Swinging about at Badbury

How high????

At Challow jct - this is the ever changing view across the junction I give way at on my way back from school run...

There's been a lot going on.... time used well, both with family and friends, and on the mundane - I've finally cracked the ironing pile - and because the mundane has now been brought into order, I can spend time on things I like to do - like making soda bread and quince jelly....  about time!

See you next time ... Kat  ;)

The old ebb and flow

of family life - has quietened down for the time-being.

Half-term holidays for working parents aren't in fact holidays. They're a logistical maze of childcare, playdates and pre-booked treats which, in my opinion, should qualify you for a position in military planning and battle tactics.  Phew! Breathes sigh of relief, they're back to school, all quiet now, time to catch up and get 'back to normal'.

Err, not this half-term.  Tom took his completed 'roundhouse' model into school first day back. Then there was Tom's school choir trip to The Royal Albert Hall on 5th November. The 6th November was the Shoebox Appeal day - mustn't ever forget that... Then his Beaver Scout Colony's participation in the Remembrance Sunday parade.  Children in Need day - the BBC appeal that gets every school child to dress up/go in home clothes/wear your pyjamas to school/make a cake/buns/biscuits/buy a cake/buns/biscuits whatever, to raise funds for Children in Need...  and this week.... thankfully, nothing.  Better check the diary... no.  Nothing. P-h-e-w.

So.  To celebrate this hiatus, this lull in all things children, I've blitzed the family ironing mountain.  Dear me, the excitement of it all. Were you sitting down?  Today, to get to the bottom of the pile, I pulled out 3 pairs of Simon's summer shorts.  I think he was still wearing them in October, but couldn't swear to it.

Our nearest neighbour, Mick, had offered me some of his quince with which to make jelly.  So, after washing my car yesterday I took the bucket around to his garden, and gathered half a bucket full. Not having made quince jelly before I'd no idea how many you need.  Half a bucket full weighed 3.5kgs, or 7lbs in old money.

I prepared half of them, simmered for about 2 hours until pulpy and then strained the pulp overnight through a muslin.  Today, I measured the liquid (a meagre 400ml), added sugar, boiled for 10mins and made my first quince jelly.

Quite pleased with the colour, flavour, clarity and set.  Less pleased with the quantity.  It made 1 and a half jars.  I'm considering entering it in the Women's Institute Real Jam Festival in December - it's at Denman College at Marcham, so only 15 minutes away from us.

I'll gather some more fruit to add to the 2kgs I've still got, and will try again tomorrow/Wednesday and next time will endeavour to remove the scum from the top of the jar - will present better that way.  It didn't spoil the flavour any, just the appearance.

But if the pressure of the rest of the family life wasn't ebbing for the moment, I'd not be able to do this with my time.... see how it goes.

TTFN.  Kat.  :)

Am I stupid or something?

OK. I know what you're thinking.  Don't answer that.

The reason I ask is I seem to be at odds with what I learned during my driving lessons (back in the 1980s), and the flow of traffic today.  And today in particular.

I've already spoken to our local PCSO (Police Community Support Officer), and I think I'm in the right, but I may as well be banging my head on the wall for all the good 'being in the right' does for me.

I travel on the A338 daily to take Tom to school and get me to work. As it becomes Newbury Street approaching the only traffic-light (4-way staggered) junction near the centre of town the carriageway has double yellow lines on both sides - apart from the on-street parking (enough for 8-9 cars maximum). The on street parking is on the oncoming traffic side as you travel into town.

Now, the road bends gently to the left as you approach this bottleneck, and the length of carriageway after the on street parking, and before the traffic lights is enough for say 8-10 vehicles, to wait safely without obstructing the bottleneck.

One of the things that Dave my driving instructor always told me was to remember the '3 C's - Care, Courtesy and Caution'.  I would add to those words of wisdom the additional 'C's of Consideration and Consequences'.

My default position when approaching the bottleneck situation on Newbury Street is to assess whether there would be enough space for oncoming traffic to proceed safely if I was to join the queue approaching the traffic lights.  Can you see where we're going with this yet?  I am inclined to give way before the bottleneck to oncoming traffic (although they should give way to me the obstruction being on their side of the road).

Why do I do this?  Because by giving way at this point the traffic flow is not impeded and the junction at the traffic lights doesn't snarl with clogged up traffic trying to manoeuvre through the double 'parked' traffic....

I've reported several instances of traffic overtaking me to the police (on the bend, essentially blind into the parked or oncoming traffic) when I've managed to get the vehicle licence plate, and note the time, date, etc, to give in support.  The police say I should keep a record of all the instances I experience and then write to the council, providing the 'evidence'.  Maybe they can come up with some traffic calming measures there?

Now, you may think that I'm just being an old fuddy-duddy. 'Doh!'.  'Chillax'. 'Watevs'. I hear you say. And maybe I shouldn't let it get to me.  But.  The reason I let it get to me is that just before the bend is a primary school of 400+ children.  The pavements on either side of Newbury Street are clogged daily at the usual school times with Mums, buggies, children, scooters, toddlers, etc. on their way to and from school.

So, on Wednesdays the Library is closed and I leave home to collect Tom between 2.30pm - 3.00pm latest.  Today I was running late and left the house at 3.00pm - just in time to join the school run traffic.   The lollipop lady outside the school let us proceed and I determined it would be better to sit tight and wait before the bottleneck.

W-r-o-n-g!  One car waited behind me and was overtaken by 6 vehicles which proceeded through the bottleneck to join the queue of traffic from the lights, and then started to backfill it.  The car behind me then also overtook me and a following 2 vehicles completed the farce.   Eventually the last car stopped and there was a space of about 4 vehicle lengths left between it and my vehicle.  I got her licence plate number in my notebook, which I now keep handy in my in-console drink holder.  Ha.  But alas, there was no way of getting the details of the other vehicles.

As the traffic lights changed the junction snarled because the tailback impeded the traffic which wanted to turn right. Six of the vehicles which had jumped past me had to pull close into the pavement in order to let the oncoming traffic through.... and all this at school home-time.

Where's the Care, Courtesy and Caution?  What about Considering all the options and weighing up the Consequences?  Why are people so impatient?  What will it take to change those drivers behaviour?  I hope (and pray) that nothing serious happens, and I just don't understand.  In my opinion, it's an accident waiting to happen.  But I seem to be alone in this opinion.  What am I missing? Am I stupid or something????

Kat.

Christmas is coming - and not in a good way!

I don't like Christmas.  There.  I've said it out loud.  Bah humbug!  Mrs Scrooge, pray tell, why don't you like Christmas?

That's not an easy question to answer.  The obvious answer is the extra unwanted financial pressure put upon parents, and gift givers, by the consumerist society we live in.  The constant run-up, build-up, getting ready for, anticipation, practice - like a military manoeuvre, or an athelete in training, or a stage manager preparing a show in the theatre - that we are bombarded with in shop windows, magazines, newspapers, on the internet, on the TV (both in the programme content, and commercials), on the radio and in daily conversation 'are you ready for Christmas yet?' they innocently ask.

It's become competitive.  Or at least that's how it seems to me. And the competition is driven by the money-takers, the profit motive, the share-holders wanting their dividend, or else how will it end?  It'll end in tears, make no mistake, it usually does.  And the problem with this, as I see it, is that little (and sometimes big) children don't see the tactics, only the glitter, and they're sucked in and suckered up, and are not satisfied any more.... because they want what they see and it's as simple as that.  But it's not, is it?

I begrudge the expectation.  I begrudge the lack of spontanity that this enforced gift-giving season has on my finances.  If I want to give a present to someone I want to give it when I see it, in the "I saw this, and thought of you" sentiment, (and when I can afford it), and not when some modern tradition dictates.  Because at this time of year it feels like I'm being dictated to, coerced, cajoled and pushed into doing something I find distasteful, this vulgar display, over which I have little control.

The problem is that buying all the presents at this one time of the year seems to me to be ridiculous.  I have to plan, and scrimp and save, (just like everyone else) to what end?  To appear to be generous, loving, kind?  I'd rather set my own agenda for when I demonstrate these qualities, thank you, and not be bent to the shop-keepers timetable for profit.  Bah humbug!

And the consumerist aspect of it is so all-consuming (all puns intended) that the real message can become too easily lost.  But what, I hear you ask, is 'the real message'?  The obvious answer is the Christian message of the birth of Christ.  Which is fine, if you have, and follow, the Christian faith.  But that leaves a heck of a lot of us 'out'.

So, in this conflicted state of mind, we have two children to consider...  whose childhood memories of this 'special time of the year' would be forever tainted/tarnished if we didn't join in and play up to the stereotypical festivities. Or would they?  Don't worry.  I know the rules, and I'm a good girl at heart.

But I wonder.  Would their memories be ruined if we didn't give them the latest trend/toy/gadget/gift.  If we didn't produce the traditional Christmas day meal of turkey and Christmas pudding.  If we didn't have a Christmas tree in the living room.  If we bunked off, played hookey, spent the money differently and did something together which we'd all enjoy instead.  Now there's an idea!

Actually, I'm not as 'bah humbug' as that.  It seems to me that Christmas is a time for children.  I genuinely have no interest in opening presents for myself.  Sorry to disappoint those of you who know me.  If I want something I either buy it or save up for it.  I haven't the time or inclination to think of a list of presents that other people may want to give me.

OK, so maybe I am 'bah humbug' after all... and there must be other adults out there who feel this way.  Look at all the 'unwanted gifts' afterwards that are donated to the charity shops, sold on e-Bay, put into WI raffles, or given away on freecycle...

But for children, making a list is their way of expressing a means of control in their life, if but for a brief moment. And the joy on their faces on opening the presents they receive is priceless, and we parents fall for it every time.

So, Christmas is coming.  Inevitably.  Like a freight train, or container ship, there's no stopping it, and no denying it.  And in my usual conflicted way I'd put it off, and said I would't do it this year, it won't do me any favours, but eventually the craving won out.  Can you guess?

I made my Christmas Cake.

It's called 'my' Christmas Cake because the rest of my family don't like fruit cake, or xmas pudding, but they might squeeze a mince pie (home-made mince-meat) in.

So, 'am I ready for Christmas yet?'.  No.  Kat.

Things that go bump in the night ... again

Disclaimer.  I'm writing this as therapy to get it out of my mind to help me move on.   After talks with various neighbours I'm relieved to report that no-one was seriously injured....

Friday night, Saturday morning, and my digital alarm clock read-out said 02.45.  02.46.  02.47.  My drowsy brain struggled to comprehend the sound ... of a car alarm, and fought to stay in bed, but my inner instinct said to investigate.  Great. Staying put was not an option.

I woke my husband up to tell him there was a car alarm (I like to share these experiences) going off. He got up grumpily, and we looked out of the front window to check our vehicles on the driveway.  Nothing happening there.  My husband went back to bed.  I lingered and looked towards the road where there is on-street parking.

If there's a car alarm sounding something must have happened.  Vandals? Thieves?  My car was parked in front of our drive, should I put it on our drive in case it was targeted by the idiots setting car alarms off?

What can I see?  There. Just visible over next door's hedge, hazard lights flashing on the vehicle nearest to us.  Car alarm, and hazard lights.  And mist. Mist?

I wiped my hand over the mid-night condensation on the single-glazed window to clear my view.  Strange.  Mist at the front of the vehicle, but not at the rear.  Steam rising puffs of mist.  Puffs of mist?  Or smoke? That's not right.

02:48. Now I was wide awake and alarmed myself.  I went downstairs and out of the house to check my vehicle and see what was wrong with the other one.

My vehicle was fine. But the other one on the road.  The flashing hazard lights.  The car alarm. The smoke rising from the bonnet. The loud music coming from the car.  Eerie.  The silence all around except for the 70's disco track and the smoke.  Smoke!

02:49.  I went back inside and woke my husband again and told him I thought there was a car on fire on the road.  This time he got up quickly and we went outside to see.  From 30 paces or so we could see that a car had crashed into a parked car.  Now it made sense.  The car alarm was no longer sounding, but the smoke was clearly visible rising from the bonnet, and the disco track was still playing.

02:50. As the thought was running through my brain that we should probably dial 999, the police vehicle arrived with its lights flashing and stopped skew-whiff on the road just beyond the crashed car.  Two officers in hi-visibility jackets got out, ignored us, and inspected the vehicle.

02:51.  They opened the driver door and the passenger door, and the sound of the music grew louder and the smoke billowed out into the cold night air.  They closed the car doors and approached a man on the pavement who shook his head and walked away from them.

02:52. 'I don't want to see this' I said, and we went inside.

Back in bed I tried to turn over to my comfortable position, but I couldn't get what I'd seen out of my mind.  There was no way that I could sleep now.

02:58.  I got up again and looked out of the front window.  The fire engine was parked close to my car, firemen were calmly taking control of the situation and yellow hoses were snaking along the ground towards the crashed vehicle.  The police vehicle had moved away and the road in front of the fire engine was closed with a line of 4 traffic cones.  Further down the road towards town, another set of flashing lights could have been an ambulance or a police vehicle at the point where the road was closed there.

03:53.  Still not sleeping I went to look out of the window again.  The fire engine was gone now, and different flashing lights and spot lights indicated a tow truck had arrived and was obviously recovering the crashed car.

04:10.  Down in the kitchen I made myself an Ovaltine and battled with my computer, which said 'You're not blogging now, I need a scan because Norton 360 says so'. So I ran the scan as indicated and went to bed at 05:00.

I work on Saturday mornings, and before setting off to the Library I went to inspect the scene.

The impact car (now taken away) had ploughed into G+K's car - a 4 door hatchback, which in turn had hit C's car - an older model smaller hatchback, which in turn had been pushed under the rear bumper of I+P's Volvo 4x4.  The shunted cars now made a traffic jam which blocked the driveways to two properties...

So, 3 cars obviously written off (including the impact vehicle), and the Volvo 4x4 sustaining damage to its rear bumper and tow bar.  If I'd not been so tired and on my way to work I would have taken photos.  But maybe that would have been a bit gruesome? Voyeuristic?  Wierd?

Thanks for letting me get it off my chest, sharing these experiences makes it feel less burdensome.  From speaking to the neighbours we think the driver must have phoned 999 because none of us did it, and as we all said something like 'I was just thinking I'd better phone 999' when the police had arrived.

Never a dull moment, as they say, and it could have been a LOT worse.

TTFN.  Kat.

It all happens at once

What to blog about tonight?  The recent spate of vandalism at the Library (which also involved my car)?... The saga of our leaky ceiling and boiler problems?  The cost of putting together a 'shoebox' to send to African or Romanian children.  The fun we (I) had building the roundhouse Tom had to do for his half-term homework..

Obviously, Tom did get involved in the Roundhouse construction.  He just lost interest after 5 minutes - and each session took around 1 hour before drying time.  So probably 5 hours of work went into it, and between getting frustrated with the inflexibility of the twigs we'd collected and the lack of input from my son, we cobbled something together with the aid of wallpaper paste and spray-on glue.

The observant among you may have noticed that Tom's badge on his school jumper is a 'Blue Peter' sports badge.  He applied to get it over the summer, being able to demonstrate that he'd inspired a friend to take up a sport.  Friend being Monty and the sport being Tae-Kwon Do.  Paperwork filled in, photographic evidence and Tae-Kwon Do Instructor's signature acquired, it was a lovely thing for him to take his badge to school to show everyone.

I'm keeping it short tonight, as we had a late one yesterday - Tom and his school choir were involved in an event at the Royal Albert Hall in London...  it was a long, tiring and successful day.

Night night, Kat.

The 590 miles round trip ... part three.

On the Saturday we left my parents to see my sister and her family in Southport.  I couldn't remember the last time we visited, and consequently popped the Sat Nav onto her address.  It wasn't the route I'd have chosen if I was map-reading myself, but it did the job.

It turned out from the work they'd done to the house, that I'd probably not visited for about 3 years.... which is testament to the distance we live apart from each other, and the busy-ness of modern family life.  Happily, our children have had opportunity to visit each other in the intervening years thanks to Grandma and Grandad's fortitude.

My siblings, who live closer to our parents, enjoy the benefit of our parents' involvement in their family life by virtue of proximity.  We take advantage of their 'services' infrequently by equal virtue of distance.  Fact.

Luckily when Grandma and Grandad do get Phoebe and, or, Tom dumped on them/spending quality time with them, they usually spend time with the cousins.  Which is great for everyone, and something which is too valuable to measure, and which words can't express the gratitude I feel deep inside when I watch the cousins playing together.

So to Southport.  We trawled the charity shops as I'm hunting for Aladdin ideas for the Christmas display at the Library.  After that we went for a stroll down the Pier - icecreams in hand and blustery wind knocking our balance to the side.

From Southport Pier

Tidal streams incoming...

At the end of the Pier is a 'penny arcade' - you purchase 'old pennies' and play old-fashioned one-armed bandits, penny falls, donkey derby and suchlike.  The children loved it. Actually, we quite enjoyed it ourselves....

The following day was the day of the predicted storm, and we were driving - very carefully! - to Bristol.  The Sat Nav did its job, and we arrived at 3.15pm.  Tom and Isaac have been friends since nursery, so we make the effort to keep in touch now he lives in Bristol.

Isaac's Mum had made a roast dinner - thank you! - which is something I only ever do at Christmas.  Being mostly vegetarian (I still eat fish - probably once or twice a month) I don't cook meat at home (well, I'm prepared to cook sausages for the children, but that's as far as it goes), so a 'roast' has never been part of the regular menu at home.  It was a lovely treat, she'd got me an individual vegetarian pie, which I enjoyed enormously.  It was nice to catch up and the boys were thick as thieves, as always.

The full force of the storm missed Bristol, so driving home the next day, whilst wet, was really only hampered by a traffic jam on the M4.  We diverted off at Jct. 17 to go cross country via Cirencester.  The Sat Nav was having none of it and kept on trying to bring us back round to the M4.  I'm sure you should be able to override that, but I've no idea how you do.

Got home 12.30pm and back to work 2pm-7pm. Knackered!

Here endeth the half-term 590 miles round trip.... ever again? Probably.

night night, Kat  ;)

The 590 miles round trip .... part two

We arrived at my parents and I unloaded the car ready for us to stay the night.  My oldest friend was also in the area, so she popped by and we decided to go for a walk to stretch our legs and burn off some energy for the children.

Wellies and raincoats on (the weather was threatening rain again) we set off across the common, over the cricket pitch and down the fields.  I had my camera for happy snapping, and happily we found a few friendly cows on the way.

Twins?  Pendle Hill in the background...

One of Tom's wellies got sucked into a boggy patch of the field where he'd run on a head of us, and as he hopped around his un-wellied foot ended up in the mud.. an uncomfortable experience in itself, and when you're the youngest in the group (7), and the only boy, an embarassing one as well.

Tom took off once his wellie was back on, and ran on ahead, keeping up a distance from us all.  Further down, the field was divided by a tractor track, which was fenced off with electric fencing.  The footpath bisected this barrier, but happily the farmer had installed wooden stiles for the walkers to pass by on.  We found Tom on the track, happily slushing around in his wellies in the sloppy mud of the tractor rut.

'Come on, we go down to the stream next' I said, 'Be careful of the electric fence'.  We clambered over the stiles and as I glanced at Tom I noticed he was shaking his hand, Black Eyed Peas style ('shake it like a polaroid picture').  'Did you get a shock?' I asked him.  'No' he lied.  He'll learn, I thought, and continued on our way.

As we approached the stream we looked behind to see where Tom was.  He was back at the electric fence and had touched it again - this much was obvious by the way he was shaking his hand again...  When he'd caught up we asked him again if he got a shock.  'No' he said innocently. 'What did it feel like?' I persisted.  'Like an invisible hand under my skin punching me on my arm bone,' he said, and he indicated a point midway between wrist and elbow.  It seemed a good description to me.

A little further on the footpath passed my Uncle Michael's house.  He was in his garden, and wasn't expecting to see us, and although he must have been a little surprised, he invited us in for a cup of tea, which was nice.  Carol, his wife, arrived just as we were leaving, and just as the drizzle became a huge downpour, so they offered us a lift home, which we gladly accepted, it being another mile or so to go.

We slept 3 together in the guest bedroom at my parent's house. Phoebe and myself having the beds, and Tom in his sleeping bag on the floor.  The next morning Phoebe told me that Tom and I snored in the night.  Well!  I said that I thought I purred.  Phoebe said if that was purring then I must be a lion...

Raow!

Night night,  Kat!

The 590 miles round trip.... part one.

There are, of course, advantages and drawbacks to things, usually, but not always, in equal measure.  For instance.  This half-term week-end my husband was competing in 'The Original Mountain Marathon' - a 24 hours yomp in the Brecon Beacons in Wales.  He claims he's not having a mid-life crisis, but I'm not too sure myself.

Anyway, I decided to get away with the children.  The opportunity was there to have a couple of days in the caravan at Carnforth, then drop in on my parents, 'Grandma and Grandad' in Blackburn, stay a night with my sister in Southport, and then pop down to Bristol so that Tom could have a sleep-over with his friend Isaac....

Sounds good when you say it like that.  Not so good to be the sole driver of fractious children holed up in a small (economical) car for 200+ miles in one go.  Actually, we stopped at 100 miles (M6 Toll Services), as I'm a sensible driver, and we needed the 'facilities'.  I don't do much distance driving, and consequently I'm always amazed at the sheer volume of traffic on the motorways, and less impressed at the poor quality of the driving on display there.

Nerves suitably jangled from the stresses of being sole driver/parent for the few days we arrived at the caravan 5.30pm in time to make supper and set everything up.

Actually it wasn't that bad at all. We were blessed with lovely weather, and my teenage daughter's reluctance to rise early meant I had opportunity to experiment with my camera's settings.  I've been meaning to remember to do this for a while now, and I'm quite pleased with the results.  Much clearer sharper close-ups...

Ferns in October sunlight

Close-up fallen oak-leaf

Local sheep

Experimenting with movement in the stream

Looking towards Morecambe from the bay/beach

When the weather is kind this part of the south Lake District can be very lovely.  We spent part of the morning in Carnforth at the Railway Heritage Centre - which is where they filmed 'Brief Encounter'.  A nostalgia trip for the steam fans and film fans alike, this attraction had plenty for young and old alike.  

After lunch we went to Morecambe and the children burned off some energy at the Happy Mount Park Adventure Ground - larger sturdy wooden based climbing frames, zip wire, tyre swings etc - free to all, and obviously well used.  If it gets kids outside and active, then I'm all for it.

As the tide was ebbing we went onto the pebbly beach for a bit of stone skimming and for me a rare opportunity to watch the birds.  Sadly, I've never enough time to indulge properly in this, but I applied my camera's zoom to try and capture the action...

Oyster catchers on Morecambe Bay

Fish and chips on the way home, as tradition dictates, and we slept well until the rain woke me at 4.45am.  We tidied and left by mid-day to go and visit my parents.  And I'll write more about that next time...

Night night y'all,  Kat  :)

Driving a bus

Well, not actually a bus, but that's what it feels like.

So we finally got my little Skoda Roomster car's rear bumper fixed (see post:  Friday the 13th).

not my car, but my (basic) model, and colour :)

The insurance people said they'd give me a 'like for like' to keep me mobile during the period my car was in the body repair garage.  OK I thought.

The actual logistics were a little time-consuming, but hey-ho. So on Friday at around 10.30am, my car was collected from my driveway by the repairing garage man, and he drove it away, up to Bicester... which is the insurer's approved agent for this area.  Not as local as I'd have liked, but then it was out of my hands.

At 11.30am, the car hire people arrived at my house to collect me and take me to their distribution hub on the Botley Road in Oxford.  Arrived, went through the paperwork, gave a £1 deposit on my debit card, even though the car hire is being paid for by the insurers.

I was then presented with my 'like for like' vehicle - a Hyundai i800.  err.... Excuse me???

Like-for-like???  In what way is this like-for-like?  Well, it appeared it was this... or an executive saloon, which had no option for fitting the dog... so I've been pootling round in this monster vehicle since Friday.  I felt like the Wantage mafia, what with its tinted windows!

The children, however, loved it. They were in the back row (it's got a back row!) like a shot, and I properly felt like a chauffeur.  Great.  It drinks diesel like the CRV we had used to drink petrol, so that's a lesson, still, as least I'd something to drive.

Things got worse on Sunday, however, when we'd arranged to go dog-walking with friends.  It was raining. Heavily. No problem, we're English, a bit of rain doesn't put us off.  Raincoats, wellies, and everything in the back, and PLENTY of space.

I didn't even feel guilty about putting the dog in the back because I'd got an old duvet which I'd put aside as dog bedding, so that came into good use to line the ample bootspace, and protect the interior.

Just as well I did.  The faffing around which it took to get everyone togged up was too much for Roly to bear, the excitement was all too much, the idea we'd forgotten him had him whining, and by the time we let him out... he'd pee'd in the car.  Luckily the duvet took the brunt and soaked it up well and good.

So, today, Monday they've delivered my car back to my driveway this afternoon while I was at work. They were going to post the keys through the letterbox, but luckily Phoebe's at home on half-term, so no problem, and I've to return the hire vehicle tomorrow.

After that it's Tom's school Halloween disco, and then we're off on a mini-break 'up North', 2 nights in the caravan in Carnforth again, and then a night with my parents, and a night with my sister in Southport, and possibly a night with Isaac's family in Bristol, and then Tom's staying in Bristol for a sleepover, and I'm back to work on Monday.

I'll need a holiday to recover after all that.

Be seeing you!  Kat  :)

It's all happening here...

... crikey!  Blogger being v-e-r-y   s-l-o-w   t-o-n-i-g-h-t,   w-h-i-c-h   i-s   a   p-a-i-n,  b-e-c-a-u-s-e  I'v-e   a   l-o-t   t-o   s-a-y....

These little things get under my skin and frankly, sometimes, I speak out - well, you're reading this, and you know me (a little?) by now, so that's no surprise then.

On Sunday it rained and rained, and eventually I said to Roly, well if no-one else is taking you, we'd better go for a walk.  Wellies and raincoat on, and off we went.  So far so good.  We got to Willow Lane and I let Roly off his lead, as usual, and I plodded behind him, one eye on the dog, one eye on the building development behind Newbury Street, to see how it's progressing. (And that's another story!).

A little way ahead of us a woman, child and dog stopped, turned around and walked away from us.  I didn't register this too highly, and we continued on our way, Roly his usual distance ahead, slow and steady, sniffing here and there, peeing here and there.  In fact I didn't think about the woman ahead of us at all until I noticed she'd stopped and then screamed aggresssively at me "WILL YOU PUT YOUR DOG ON A LEAD?"

Umm...what???  I called Roly, who came to me, slow and steady, sat in front of me and I put his lead on.  Feeling a little bemused and affronted we continued on our way and the woman turned towards us and approached us.  As we crossed paths I said "A please would have been nice".

Oops!!!  Another torrent of abuse from her, most of which fortunately I didn't really register as I have partial hearing in my right ear.  The only bit I did catch was something like 'vets bills would you?'.  Her dog also growled at Roly as we passed, voicing her anger.

I'm still confused.  I don't think I'd done anything wrong.  Roly would have 'said hello' to her dog if he'd passed by, but he hadn't reached them before the incident, so I'm at a loss to understand her behaviour.  Any ideas welcome.

As promised, here are the photos of spiders webs from the foggy mornings a couple of weeks ago.  Hope you like them.

And with those thoughts I'll leave you.  nighty night.  Kat  :)

We are all connected (2)

I've got a nice mug of chocolatey Ovaltine tonight - I say it's a nice mug because, to me, it is.  I know it's a Hornsea Pottery 'Looney' Mug, but the Hornsea Pottery stamp on the underside has long since worn off....  Long since when?  Since when my Grandmother bought it for me, on or around my fifteenth birthday.

We'd visited the Hornsea Pottery site near Lancaster one summer holiday, must have been 1980, and Grandma bought me two mugs - one 'Moody' and one 'Looney' because I couldn't choose between the two, and also because you might have applied either adjective to me at the time...

So, these many years down the line, only the 'Looney' mug remains, and whenever I use it I am reminded of my Grandmother...  we are all connected, you see.

I'll apply the KISS theory tonight - Keep It Simple, Stupid!  Or as may apply here, keeping it short...

night y'all.  Kat  :)

Things they should tell you ..

about writing a blog.

1.  It's a little addictive.  In as much as there's nothing better than spouting forth with your opinions - and it (seemingly) doesn't matter who's listening (reading) or not, because they can't answer back when you're writing.

(Note to self - ALWAYS read what you've written to: a. sanity check. b. sanity check. c. sanity check).

2.  Be careful what you write.  Once you've posted it there's no going back and there's every chance it'll come back to bite you on the bum (and we don't want that - neither literally nor metaphorically).

3.  Don't get hung up on audience figures.  Remember who/why you're writing this for (yourself mainly I suspect).

4.  When audience figures spike unexpectedly it's probably because you put the word 'love' in the title/subject header.  (See last post.  Today's figures have spiked x 87 hits in Indonesia !!! ???).

5.  Enjoy yourself.  If you're having fun writing it, it's likely other people will enjoy reading it.  Well, that's my theory, and I'm sticking to it.

(87 page hits in Indonesia.... really!  Now what's that all about I'd like to know...or on second thoughts, maybe I'd rather not).

Night night y'all.  Kat  :)

Love of nature...

Pleasing heart-shaped leaves on teasel plant at Faringdon Cricket Ground circular walk....

I LOVE this photo, and I took it myself  :) LOL....

It's Autumn and there seems to be too much going on to get my head down to write about it.  The glorious arable countryside around here escapes my attempts to capture it on my digital camera - usually because I've left the camera at home.  But also the size of the fields is difficult to do justice to in a simple snap.  I love the way they change colour throughout the year according to what crop is planted and where it's at in its growth and harvest cycle.

I love the patterns made by man and nature together.  Tractor tracks that the tractor driver accurately keeps to to minimise crop damage, the ploughed and furrowed fields after harvest, the new shoots and then the ripples the wind waves across the fields of barley.  It's the satisfaction of watching something grow.  Something good to nourish us.  Something strong to shield us.  Something to warm us and bring us comfort in the coming winter months.

Maybe it's got something to do with feeling close to nature.  I certainly feel better about myself living in the country, feel more myself walking the dog hereabouts, feel nearer to myself somehow, more centred and content with the abundant greenery and wide open spaces nearby.  There's always something to catch the eye, a Red Kite soaring and especially now, the turn of the year, the leaves are going over and there's a crispness in the air, a promise of things to come.

Feeling thankful, and if you want some apples there's still plenty to spare....  night night y'all.  Kat

Arachno, no, yes actually, I like spiders....

It's a funny thing, Mother Nature.  First truly foggy morning of the Autumn.  Heavy dew, and the mist visible half-way down the garden, but somehow moves away and sneaks up behind you as you walk towards it...  As I got to the 'orchard' to let the hens out I was charmed by the work the spiders had done overnight.  I'm sure the cobwebs weren't there yesterday...

One cobweb in particular had me marvelling at it in wonder.  It was a long single thread, hanging overhead between two apple trees, and a good 5 paces distance.  The thread was jewelled with tiny dew drops and if there hadn't been so much mist obscuring the light I'd have got my camera out.  As it was I got my 7 yr old son to have a look at it and we both wondered together how did the spider do that?  Did it get a lift with a bird, did it have special springy feet, or did it have a mini helicopter to help it?  We'll never know, and I think I like it all the more for that.

But it didn't stop there.  Whilst I was walking the dog round the cricket/playing fields in Faringdon, I noticed more cobwebs.  Were they there yesterday?  I couldn't say.  It wasn't foggy yesterday, and I did the same circuit with the dog, but were there this many cobwebs then?

Funnel cobwebs in the long grass by the skate park.  Classic cobwebs everywhere glistening with the moisture from the air.  And cobwebs that seemed to want to hold the thistle seed heads in on themselves, cobweb blankets filled with fluffy stuff, thistle-down smothered in silken threads.  Why did they do that?  Why now?

I'll take my camera tomorrow, and see what I can snap, but I'm certain the light this morning wouldn't have been any good.

ttfn.  Kat  :)

today in photographs...

Too tired to write today.  Been on an energy drop, but not like I'm coming down with something.  May be one of these peri-menopausal symptoms, so I'm for an early night and will see how it goes tomorrow.

My dog.

On our dogwalk on the 'Letcombe Loop' this afternoon I noticed a snail party...

... and then the bales lined up quite pleasingly ...

When we got home we had a cup of tea, and a piece of cake (which I'd made earlier)... here's what's left...

The apples in the bowl behind the cake are from my garden - and we can't keep up with them, if you want some, just drop round, help yourselves, fight the wasps...

night night y'all,  Kat.  :)

The turn of the year

It's that time again.  The nights are drawing in.  My hens go to roost earlier each night, and if I'm late in getting to the bottom of the garden to shut them in, it's already dark - and it's only 8pm.

We're down to three hens at the moment.  One of the speckeldy's died 25th August.  I'd spotted her going downhill on the Thursday, usual signs, mucky back end, listlessness, isolating behaviour.  But the timing of helping them on their way is never easy, and I'd given her a day too long, and we had guests that weekend, so finding an appropriate moment to do the deed was going to be difficult, and when I let them out on the Sunday, she'd died in the night.  At least she was with her friends, and although it saved me from a task which I am prepared to do, but don't enjoy, I still felt sorry to see her go.

Now when I let them out in the morning there's a chill in the air. No more wandering down the garden in my pyjamas, crocs and cotton dressing gown...  there's an image to wrestle with in your mind now!  No.  Now it's time for the fleecy dressing gown.  And anorak over that if it's raining.  And wellies if the weather's dire.  And I have been known in snow to put salopettes and ski jacket on over my pj's, and team that up with my snowboots to boot.

There's still a glut of apples in the garden, but the blackberries round and about have gone over. Last week when I was walking the dog I didn't have any containers to pick blackberries into.  I have, on the odd occasion, used dog poop bags (clean of course!), but kept promising myself I'd bring a container and do it properly.  Too late.

This morning the blackberries were soggy.  Not just from the recent rainfall, but from over-ripeness.  They burst upon touching them, and were somehow reluctant to yield, to give in and let me pick them.  How then to describe the clumps of them, the clusters, bunches, branches, droplets, drooplets, danglers, jam-jars brambles of them?  Sadly too late to now to bring in the bounty, they've turned mildewy, and gone mouldy with their lushness....

Still, the spiders were the ones to benefit.  More cobwebs than I've seen for a while, and although the wasps weren't buzzing, they were feasting, and close by them were the flies, disturbed by my reaching hand.. no rich pickings for me this time.  I've had my lot, and safely banked it in the freezer.

Pegasus, Woking

TTFN.  Kat  :)