Hullaballoo

What was your best house party and why? I need some ideas because I am tentatively considering hosting our first hulla bobo party. It's a shame our blog chums don't live closer, otherwise we could have a blog party.

As an extrovert, that should be straightforward, but there is quite a chasm between an idea and a reality. Something which is exciting when it is weeks away, becomes nerve wracking on the day. Invariably, I change my mind on the day and it sounds like the worst idea every. I end up hiding in the kitchen or getting really in a tizzy before. This morning, I had an epiphany whilst listening to a Steps cd (yes, I do get the irony here lol).I have decided that my ambivalence is a result of a lack of practice Perhaps we could spontaneously do it tonight, thus avoiding days of nerves but also avoiding effective preparation.

After dabbling in a bit of (sorry Stray ahem) amateur computer programming, people are now able to comment in 4 different ways and I have changed the clog template 3 times in the last 5 minutes. So, it's not just as simple as going in to manually edit the HTML doo da of the template. Geeeez, you must have to study for at least an hour to learn all you would need to know about programming.

Scratches head and shuffles off in a confused way.

OMG! It's my blog, and I can't even comment, Liz has a point. Why has commenting using this template become so hard? Why is it that stressful things follow stressful things on difficult days?

I spent the morning having a filling and chasing up bad debts and the afternoon dealing with flack from bad debtors and seeing clients. Grrrrrrrrr.

I haven't had dinner and wouldn't know a sensible thing to eat if it started growing out of my arm.

I had to wear leggings under my skirt because my ever increasing waistline means that my skirt spends the day riding up my body at the most compromising times. That's just not okay with tights, trust me.

I should be relaxing instead of hyperizing myself at the computer. But who wants to relax when that's the thing you most need to do?

And, I have just had a holiday.

And I need to stop pretending it's okay to eat chocolate spread by the tablespoonful as a snack.

I know all of this, and more.

And some days, it just doesn't help.

I Am: Sensitive, funny and talkative.

I Want: To move forward in life.

I Have: A fortunate life.

I Wish: I could run away sometimes.

I Fear: I cannot survive my world as it is just now.

I Hear: Things that tug at my soul every day at work.

I Search: For peace of mind.

I Wonder: If I will ever stop wanting to learn.

I Regret: This is too private to write about.

I Love: Innocently, wildly, passionately, loyally.

I Always: Want to work out what motivates people.

I Usually: Try make other people's lives better.

I Am Not: A pushover.

I Dance: Anywhere I won't get arrested for random dance movements.

I Sing: When I listen to my ipod.

I Never: Give up.

I Rarely: Think the worst of others.

I Cry: When people hurt me.

I Am Not Always: Perfect or patient.

I Need: A massive holiday, somewhere far, far away.

I Should: Put the chicken in the oven, instead of sitting here clogging ;).

This morning, I was full of energy and verve. I got the boys up early on the last day of the holidays and we went out to do productive to-do list things. After lunch, my energy fell away, almost totally. I snoozed off whilst they watched cartoons and woke with a thumping headache. As I slept, YS sneaked into the bathroom and made a smelly potion from all my prized pampering lotions and scrubs. Somehow, the mixture is now solid and red as it sits congealing in one of his carefully selected food colouring bottles.

The only solution was to prepare cheer up cauliflower cheese, with extra nutmeg and mustard in the sauce. As I stirred the sauce and sampled it over and over again (all part of the cheer up process) OS worked his way through a punnet of strawberries, learning how to make them extra sweet by piercing them and covering them with water. I suppose this afternoon was the kitchen equivalent of messing around in boats.

This is Black Spout Wood in Pitlochry.






Our weekend was sunny and dry. We went swimming in an outdoor pool, how cool is that? The picture above is of the bridge at Dunkeld, next to which the boys played in a big adventure playground.



This is Edradour whiskey distillery in Pitlochry. It was part of our walk through black Spout wood, past a dramatic waterfall and into the path of several roaming deer. The air was full of peat smoke and the land stretched before us.

Today, we finished off the trip with a visit to RSS Discovery at Dundee, then onto Burntisland beech to collect battle stones. Perfect weekend.

I have spent the morning making super hero capes for the boys' teddies, at their insistence. They are ballistic, beyond excited as we pack the car to go away. I think I have covered all the necessities for a weekend in a caravan; Bakewell tart, pancakes, chicken noodles and peanut butter. Thank you for all your lovely comments on my last couple of posts. I will respond when we return.

If you found out that your high school was having a reunion, would you go?

YS dragged us to movies this morning. Apparently EVERYONE in his class has seen Bolt, the movie and he is feeling left-ed out. It turns out that the movie only came out on Friday 13 Feb, so now I am wondering how EVERYONE else got to see it so quickly.

I am not going to admit to having cried at the film, to empathising with a fat hamster called Rhino in a clear plastic ball or a mobbish alley cat called Mittens. No way, because that would make me a hullaba-wus. And I am so not.

As you know, we are on holiday this week, so the past few days have been action packed. YS has added arms to the hullaba fridge magnet portrait.








It took four of us to eat this enormous croissant. We bought it from the wonderful Polish bakery near the Kings Theatre. It is a large sugary iced bun, filled with jam and iced. The only passing resemblance it bears to a croissant is in its shape.







The boys's official name for this construction is the 'Honky Conky Camp.'
It is a complex and involved magnetix and lego sculpture, a gathering of the clans, a wee bit of fun sitting under the dining room table.








We are meant to go to the beach on the train today, but the boys are just as happy creating car races with deck chairs in the hall and finding battle scenery in the back garden. Yesterday, we bought some fools gold and some rug wool to create more battle scenery and do go with their latest purchase of 'undead' soldiers (the scariest of them all). I am also beginning to drop down a gear or too and relax into my holiday. And it's not even sub zero temperatures outside any more lol.




Perhaps we can begin musing on spring flowers - I bought my first bunch of narcissii of the season yesterday, always a happy moment.





This sleep mask was one of my Valentine gifts from Bobo. Here is the description from the packet, "Luxurious Lavender Silk Eye Mask with soft velour backing for extra eye comfort. Filled with pure lavender seeds to help relaxation and prepare you for sleep." Wearing it, is an amazing experience, and it helps the fitful sleep I have been experiencing over the past few months.

This morning, I am at a loose end. Of course there are many meaningful things I could do, but my heart just isn't into doing them. I am on holiday until 24 February, but can't seem to settle in to having less to do. I am still in over-drive.

So, after picking at the kids' fudge and half heartedly and randomly hanging up washing around the flat at more and more skewed angles, I have decided to go out. OUT must be better than IN, right? And, we have totally run out of washing up liquid, so there is no point whatsoever in doing any washing up. Today, I am off in search of the cream of Scottish modern art, hopefully I will get into something meaty and invigorating, like urban decay or post-industrial malaise. Artists can be so cheery.

Happily, the boys are coming back tonight, and I can't wait to see them. I have bought them wee bunnies made from maltesers and will place them on their pillows for their return. Last week, I had some vague notion, that I would even iron their duvet covers, but hell, you can take mummying too far. When I took the ironing board out last Sunday, the boys crowded around it staring and questioning, as if some mysterious alien spaceship had landed. Perhaps that's because the last time I took it out was before Christmas, and that was to iron hama bead patterns. In my experience, most clothes just need lightly patted and well folded lol.

We are heading up to a tiny village near Blairgowrie for a few days at half term. The boys are really excited and are already planning what to take. I am slightly concerned that we are staying in a caravan, even though it is centrally heated. February in Scotland = Baltic lol. When I told my dear German friend Schmetterling, she just laughed and said she hoped we were bringing our hotwater bottles. The darkest blue area is Edinburgh (just above the yellow). As you can see, we aren't going far. This is a wise move as Scotland is full of winding roads, which often make the wee ones travel sick.




This is a picture of a the river Tummel, where we are hoping to go for some day walks. I think this would be a good time to buy our first flask, because it looks mighty chilly.





This is the snowlined road to Blairgowrie, beautiful and peaceful. Just what we all need. Bobo hasn't seen much of Scotterland, mainly because I am a city girl who gets a bit twitchy when the spaces get too green and rugged. I have got books out on the countryside to de-sensitise myself, and have already warned him that I am not knowledgeable about it, not at all.

Carrying on from my previous sunny post, of course the butler would be bringing me sausages and mash for tea, my favourite comfort food ever. Although cheese sauce, bread sauce, horseradish sauce, peri peri sauce, white sauce, tartare sauce and hollondaise sauce are guaranteed to hit the spot.

What's your favourite tea? Oh pooh, I've made myself hungry now. I will have to steer past the biscuits and make for the ryvita, damn it!

Imagine yourself relaxing into the warm grass on a sunny lawn, listening to the river water gently trickling by and wondering when the butler will have prepared your favourite meal. Your only decision is whether to roll over and go back to snoozing or take a few more sips of your expertly chilled gin and tonic. The children are gambolling about happily between the full equipped adventure playground you had custom built for the summer and the magical treehouse that has remained perched in the giant oak tree since the days when the Secret Garden was written. Bliss.

Or

Hopping about, you are trying to put on all the clothes you own, so you can brave the freezing blizzard long enough to buy some beans for tea. The kids are arguing over lego and the only tonic water you can find is off and flat. You haven't see the sun for days and wouldn't recognise it if fell into your soup. The central heating has no thermostat, and so is either off or tropical, the electric shower remains ever lukewarm and the forgotten blueberry muffin you bought yesterday as a treat, is now crushed at the bottom of your work bag and smeared over your most important papers.

I am totally fed up with winter now. Give me some sunshine. Even my light box isn't delivering any more :((.

Bobo has created a fridge magnet portrait of me, complete with Xtra curly hair and Xtra big boots.

This weekend has been exceptional. I have turned a corner with the boys, they played happily and peacefully, did as they were told and were a delight. I am used to having to dole out prescription cuddles and break up dramatic fights and carry ons, but this weekend, nothing. It's a bit like mummy tumbleweed.

I sat perched in the kitchen with a cup of tea and a paper, waiting to intervene, but no, they didn't need me. I painted my nails fiddled around adjusting my pony tail, had a mummy fashion show and silence reigned. Eerie silence.

In the end, I turned the radio up, danced around the kitchen and made scones, just because. Older son went to his friend's for a sleepover, and I cuddled up to YS as we chatted and made (successful) fudge. Even after he went to bed, I felt a little on edge, mummy duty is meant to be harder than this, isn't it?

This morning, more cuddle and chat and lego time with younger son as Bobo and I played with him in his room. He liked the special time, he liked the special attention.

Then this afternoon, I trotted off swimming with YS and we had a blast. He even offered me the last Rolo from his party bag. He giggled as he listened to the young guys joking in the next cubicle, then he turned to me and said wryly, "students, eh?" They are such great company.

Those of you who have known us for a while, will be aware that Bobo is from Surrey and recently moved to live with us in Scotterland. We speak differently in Scotterland. This was highlighted by the 'Surrey' quote of the evening. I brought Bobo a gin and tonic in the bath and he exclaimed, "oh golly!" Of course I very gently teased him, cos no one says that in Scotterland, well not unless they are being 'horridly' ironic lol.

I must say the Glory von Hathor is an absolute delight, a hilarious blogger who deserves more recognition. She writes so eloquently, with keen observation and a wonderfully eccentric view of life. Glory is a gem.

Go take a peak: http://ghostsinthepantry.blogspot.com

And she is so creative, she doesn't stop at artistic snowmen. GVH, may the force be with you.

I have been sitting in the wrong room at work for the past three hours, waiting for clients who, for various reasons, never appeared. Around 10am, I got bored and went foraging for a hot lasagne, then I did almost all my admin.

Now I am left wondering why I went to the wrong room. Since the room booking system was computerised, I frequently appear in the wrong places and have to make hasty, apologetic retreats from other understanding practitioners. My explanation this morning went thus: "you know when you are wee and you go towards the wrong lady in the supermarket, thinking it is your mum? Well, that is my attitude to room allocation. I go towards the room I intuitively feel is the right one, and rarely check the computer." Oopsie.

What does this mean?
What does anything mean?
Are there any more biscuits left in the office tin, or have I eaten them and forgotten about them too?

Above is a picture of one of my more cunning recent curtain hanging efforts. It consists of two pairs of curtains at the window. The top pair never shuts because of a stuck rail and the bottom pair never opens because they are too short for the window (hence hung half way up) and are hung on a net curtain rail.

After years of searching, I am relieved to find that my curtain faffing can be ascribed to a recognised medical condition; dyscurtainphobia. That is 'the obsessive fear that curtains are, or may become repulsive.' It is present where 5 or more of the following factors are present:

1) The inability to make a tasteful curtain choice
2) Inaccurate measurements and shoddy hanging
3) Shoogly hooks that don't fit the curtain rails
4) Any generally cobbled together curtain job
5) A preference for hanging sheets by clothes pegs from curtain rails instead of actually hanging curtains
6) Failure to open or close bedroom curtains as a child because of an irrational fear of owls looking in
7) A predisposition towards sitting under blankets or wearing sleep masks in inappropriate settings. This is done in order to maintain that fantasy that there are fully functioning curtains at the window.

Now I can set up a support group with other sufferers, or maybe just sit around and drink soothing tea with those who are not bothered by fabrics and furnishings.

The other week, I bought a mega family pack of fish fingers.To my knowledge, no one has eaten any, or should I say no small person has eaten any. Except......Bobo who seems have made all 36 of them into fish finger sandwiches over the course of the last couple of weeks. Grrrrrr......someone's in trouble. Now, he's texting me and claiming they were medicinal???

I am thinking of going over to the other side, from Egyptian belly dancing to tribal belly dancing. Tribal goddess came up for the day yesterday and we had a blast raking through the goth shops, weirdy bazaars and charity shops of Edinburgh.

As you can see from the photos, I managed quite an eclectic mix of purchases. The pink floaty skirty is for dancing in over leggings and the temporary tattoos are a bit of fun, as is the nail art. The hairpiece was my most unusual purchase, not sure how I will wear it yet, but it will be interesting. I am wondering if it is real hair, in which case, it might have wee beasties living in it - ewww. Finally, I have been looking for deep blue nail varnish for months and the matching shell necklace just keeps on giving.

After over-dosing on shopping and coffees and teenage shops with dungeons and piercings, I still hadn't hit on any gothic bargains. I saw several outfits I liked, but wondered if the lace up waistcoat with a padlock on the collar would have quite the same appeal in the wider world away from THAT shop and THAT music lol. One can only embarrass one's kids so much in one sitting.

The late afternoone was spent eating popcorn and revels and clutching the edges of our art house cinema seats as we watched Slumdog Millionnaire. Great film, if a bit look-away-traumatic-ouchy at times.

Today, I have the flat to myself and am decorating my hands with tattoos whilst listening to tribal dance music. I have hauled a few bits out of cupboards, with good intentions of tidying, but am mostly wondering just what to do with my hairpiece. Oh, the sheer stress of it!