Byeeee!!!

Moving day tomorrow so I'm AWOL until we get broadband back.
M13 - I owe you a phone call. Apologies - soooo busy today.
Must try to take better pictures when I get back.

packingboxespackingboxespacking

My house looks like this:

and it is depressing. Two sleeps to go.

On the other hand I found this:

which is a box of Bliss, little sealed quotes to open daily. And yay, I haven't opened them. Well only one, and I had forgotten that one anyway, so I got to open it again. It says (well, it would say if you could read it that is, because it does make you feel suspiciously like your glasses just fell off looking at that picture, but I told you my camera refuses to focus eh, so get used to that because I've packed the other one) "Choose to be happy. It is a way of being wise."

Which I think will be very useful to me for the coming days because we all know moving sucks. And it is also useful to everybody else because wow loads of people make dumb choices, and being happy is a way better one. I'm not talking about any of you of course. ;) Just those other people.

More On Writing

I love watching writing happen. P3 did a great signature on her cousin's birthday card today all by herself. (Happy Birthday for yesterday Miss M - although you are on a plane right now, so not terribly likely to get the wishes through here...) It amazes me how legible writing emerges, and makes me wish I was better organised and had actually tagged each photo of her writing with the helpful and searchable 'writing' tag like I planned, but only actually did once. Sigh. I should be used to my disorderly life enough for it not to bug me.

And in case you think it is just my own kids' writing that I waffle on about, check this out. In the midst of all the endless packing I found this card that we we given about two years ago from L6's bestie:

and that made me all gooey too. How cute is that pirate with all the toes??

Oh Just Call Me A Liar

Wouldn't you know it? The minute I give up the computer and say it can't be done, he does it. He's good like that.

P3 showing off her memorizing skills.

Codebreaker

Had a sweet video of P3 to play, but turns out to be huuuuge and when Blokey Husband compresses it, it loses pictures on my computer. So I give up. I should be packing anyway. Four sleeps to go.

Here. Old pictures of a spy on Saturday morning instead.

And Again With The Potatoes

Leftovers fried up in butter and served with a dollop of mayonnaise for breakfast. Yum. And if you are worried about my arteries, then don't be. Have a read of Rach and she'll sort you out.

And on a completely separate note, it has finally happened. After six and a half years of Mummy-adoration, L6 has finally decided it is actually Daddy who (whom? crikey I dunno! sorry Bunce) he adores. Yep, my perma-cuddle has been replaced with incessant clambering over Blokey Husband. Ha!

(Pics blurry as heck because he never stops wriggling.)

Weekending

as much as possible, knowing that packing is really what needs to get done. You wouldn't believe it, looking at this picture of L6 leaving the field, but it was a rough game. A thrashing.

Who cares? They had a ball. It's pretty much always a thrashing anyway.

Then there was garden pottering under the guise of packing up all the garden stuff. The people moving in want to cover my precious garden with deck. Hurrumph. But I have a glimmer of hope that when they get here they will fall in love with it and leave it be. But just in case I'm stealing back our kaffir lime tree, the new parsley plant that has only been in a couple of months and harvesting our potatoes, even though they are still pretty weeny.

I never really got the thing about boiled potates, but now that I have planted and fed and dug (like a treasure hunt!) and washed them, I love them. Of course the salt and butter help too. You can't be too spartan.

One For The Twenty-First

Yes, it is a toddler toilet seat.

No, I wouldn't put it near my head either.

Today is Finished With

L&P did watercolours.

Which is a watered down version of the day. It began nasty. I took L6 to school, and back home again before 9am. I worried if I was a nice enough mummy. I worried if I was a stern enough mummy. I guess that is what you do when you are the mummy.

I read this on a lovely friend's siggie line. I will think of it today. And tomorrow.

“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.”

– Ralph Waldo Emerson

Whatever Happened To. . .

shower caps? I remember this one so well, with its scratchy yellow elastic threatening my eyes. Shower caps were a big thing - I remember my sister's pale purple one too. It had lace and I was aways envious of that.

Why do they feature so clearly in my memory? Were our mothers so terrified of wet hair? Why are we so reckless nowadays as we let our children's tresses dangle perilously in the bathwater?

And yeah, nudey shot of self. But I was cute back then. (Thanks for the pic which handily made up for my lack of camera action today Bunce.)

Two Beautiful Things From Today

My first baby cuddles with my friend's newborn Jzero (I had to write that or he looked like he was called Jo). Terrible out of focus picture because I am all out of practise with newborns and trying to cuddle and take a picture was clearly beyond my skills.

And a surprise prezzie from my lovely mutti, who heard all about this beautiful jacket I spied in the recycle shop, and snuck in and quizzed the assistant, who luckily knew what she was on about, and bought it for me. Isn't she so sweet? And isn't it the Most Beautiful Fabric Ever?

Family Portraits

My friend Nova heard about my sudden urge to cut off all my hair, and how I tamed the beast by hacking off my fringe to an absurd length. It did temporarily quell the desire for a number two by making me look distinctly odd, and she rightly pointed out severe and odd sound most definitely blog-worthy. It has had a week and a half to grow so not quite as brutal, but maybe it is time for a portrait. Here's me:

Ha. Oh okay, okay. A little bit too abstract. Well I'm not going to play unless everyone else joins in. So here's me with a really brutal chopped fringe. I am 14260 days old:


And husband of mine. A sprightly 14193 days old:

A self-portrait by L2360days:

And P1284days:

Market Day

I'll get my complaint out of the way first up - which was that the cheeses (which tasted divine) were contained in these silly, let'sallwrecktheplanetwithpackaging, unnecessary little plastic tubs. What is that about?! They would have been so much better in every way wrapped in some kind of greasy papery stuff, surely?

Other than that. . . mmmmmmmmmm.....

Christopher didn't think his mum would ever play the oboe. She never had time to do anything fun because she was always too busy working for the pigeon post. And her list of 'Things to Do' grew longer every day.

No Room For A Mouse

Kyle Mewburn & Freya Blackwood

Not that I'm trying to tell you I worked at all hard today. I worked, but had a lovely chatty Ali visitor to drink hot chocolate with, and very few pesky customers, so I had a much easier day than I would have had, had I stayed home.

I am in love with Christopher's mum from this library book. Her wild hair, two pairs of glasses and five wristwatches have won me completely over.

Museum Visit

Last day of the school hols winter house escape plan.

My Deprived Children

decided to pull up chairs to watch the biscuits we were baking cook. Ha! Who needs TV?

Yawn

It's official. My blog has stagnated and is the boringest in the history of all the most boring things, brussels sprouts and Target included. No sparkly pictures I can blame on my camera playing up. No sparkly life I can blame on winter. No sparkle? That's all my fault. Sorry.

I did spend half the day wrangling two small children out of pyjamas and around a supermarket with two separate shopping lists on the go, which really should be a challenge on The Krypton Factor with the physical and mental agility along with multi-tasking ability it requires. And at the end of the day the fact that one of my chickens is moulting (or maybe loosing fluff because she is secretly still ill?!) is pretty much the only thing that has changed around here. And it isn't very photogenic.

But luckily the children took hold of the camera at various times of the day so you get treated to:

• a magna doodle picture of Baboo (looking accurately slim) and Tusky. Yeah, he's some walrusy, sea-liony thing and does look like that.

• P3 colouring (good effort on the photo front L6 - blog is supposed to be about children after all).

• L6's ear. (I'm sure it isn't that big in reality?) Possibly a self-portrait with reference to Van Gogh. Or possibly not.

• And various shots of Big Lambie (sounds like Yammie).

Hmmm. Never gonna win huge amounts of blog love with that. Let's try this:

Have finally started packing. Packed three whole boxes before deciding that was just too boring a job for me and really should be done in a mad flap 12 hours before moving truck arrives. And see the little stick man? He is because I can't pack boxes without a tetchy 6 year old querying how on earth he is supposed to draw someone inside because he can draw a house and a person on the house but that just looks like the person is outside the house so how do you make it look like someone is inside the house?

That's not a normal problem is it?

Four Walls

And even seriously more nothing to say today. Or perhaps I should actually say 'less to say' and stop horrifying my aged father with my blatant disregard for grammar.

It was freezing and we did car-type errands and there was much standing around in garages full of tyres and when we eventually made it home to our lounge with its generous heater it was a welcome sight so we stayed within its four walls and there were books and trains and (lazy mummy) DVDs and humdinger and magna-doodle and knitting and cuddles and that was pretty much that. The end.

Nothing To Say?

It worries me when my friend Sarah Bean says she has posted on her blog "even though she had nothing to say"?? What? I never have anything to say. Doesn't stop me though. Sorry. So here's whole lot of unrelated, pretty uninspiring stuff with nothing much to say.

P3 ran out of the room when I suggest she get dressed this morning, and came back like this:



If you've got a hat and shoes, then surely you are done? She told me she was "going to wear dinosaur clothes today". Heh.

She also makes a great self-named chicken mummy.





Although this evening when we were talking about it, she told me she couldn't be a chicken mummy, because "mummies don't cry and sometimes I cry" (starts to cry...) I had to reassure her, that yes, sometimes mummies do cry.

And L6? Well boys are just happy so long as they are up a tree eh?



And a bit of kidspeak from him:

L6 -Who wants to go where?
P3 – I want to go to AFFFRICA!
L6 (somewhat scathingly) – Can’t go there. It’s only planets.



Well that's today. Except to say that we officially bought a house today. Hurrah. 18 sleeps to go until we move. Yay us. Wine and toblerone to celebrate.