Scrolling Saturday -- News Alert

Scrolling Saturday is a way to introduce older posts that flew under the radar -- you know, posts you wrote when only your mother was reading your blog.
Brought to you by:

Manners and Moxie and Rock and Drool...Mom Gone Mental

In honour of the cold spell sweeping through my little village as I post:

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

News Alert: UK becomes part of Antarctica

My husband is worried about my Clustr Map. He's an Air Traffic Controller, so Stress is his middle name-- but his concern about my map could be too much.
He mentioned today that IF some scientist in Antarctica were to read my blog, he wouldn't show up on the map. I wouldn't be able to say that I've had readers from all seven continents.

Well, I've been outside today and I've watched the news. The freezing fog we have now, is supposed to come in (which infers that it will first go away) with a vengeance tonight and it's suppose to be -6º.
Do I really need Antarctica? I mean, I'm practically living there already.

Today's art project....

It's Not Easy Being Clean

Something happened when I moved into this tiny little home.

It appears my cleaning flair has been defeated. I'm not experiencing that "my-sinks-are-so-stinking-clean-I-can-eat-out-of-them" high anymore. Maybe because they never are. ever.
I don't follow my kids around insisting they wipe down the backs of the chairs they used and I don't freak out when a full bowl of cereal hits the floor (gasp).

We left the "mansion" because I was cleaning from the time I got up until the time I went to bed-- but then one could see a difference. I could smell the difference. I was the dirt conquerer.

But here...

There's the grease smell I can't beat.

There's the dog hair that threatens to eat my stove (and we don't have a dog).

There's the mildew growing around the tub that someone before us spared. Instead of killing it off, they chose to caulk over it-- with clear caulk. When that made for an unsettling view during bath time, they put strips of metal-looking plastic over it, so that new mildew could grow.

So I'm thinking... we're carrying this bunny hugging thing a little far, don't you think?

Until recently we were left to use natural defenses against lice over here in the UK. The I-want-to-kill-off-everything medicines available to us in the U.S. have only just begun to creep across the pond. I don't know why I should have to live with creatures that want to feast on my flesh and make me uncomfortable.
Just like I don't think I should have to share a bath with black gooey uselessness either.

I also think I should have a choice as to which critters I share living space with.
When Joe Satellite Dude came over to hook us up to our 20 channels of BBC, he informed us that he couldn't connect to the existing dish and would have to install a new one.

You want to know why?

Because a pigeon had nested in the dish. So huge new holes were drilled in a £250,000 home. To save a pooping machine.
Another mess I would have to clean.

When does this crazy green carny ride stop?

When someone shouts, "I'm gonna be sick!"

And I did. The Hubby donned his killing gear and eradicated the mildew from the bath.
The new white caulk gleams like fresh, sparkly toothpaste.

But I still don't want to clean it.
I've lost that cleaning feeling...
I guess the big question is, do I want it back?

Photo is pre-mildew murdering spree (you think I make this stuff up?)

PSF Might As Well Jump

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

See the little guy? He has taken a fearless, racing start at his big brothers' bike jump.

Can you see the concentration in his face?

Can you see where that front tire is heading?

The Hubby wasn't on call last Saturday. That's a good thing, because we had several events going on.
Unfortunately in the military, just because you aren't on call doesn't mean you won't get called in.
He ended up working nearly an entire shift on the ONE sunny day we had.

In an attempt to salvage the day, we walked down to the park to enjoy the sunshine. Miss Ky played on the swings while her brothers built little mounds to jump their bikes over.

Five year-old A2 was the first to try it out.
Again, see that front tire?
Right after this shot, that tire lands askew and Little Guy topples over his handle bars and does a glorious face plant on the hard dirt.

For all of my Bad Mommy choices, I stand proud telling you that I fought the urge to lift the camera and get the shot of his little brown nose (with dirt shoved up inside of it) and his dirt goatee.
My brave little boy was crying, and I held him instead of shooting pictures for posterity.

All Things British- Fancy Dress

For those of you that have been worrying about me, I have survived the woman's version of the man cold. And hear me now-- I will never make fun of my husband's suffering again.

Ok, he's left the room now, so we can really talk.

Here's how it is. When I'm sick, sick enough to go down, it usually means the laundry, the school duties, life will be waiting for me when I get up. And today was no exception.
It looks like the laundry fairy threw up all over my laundry room-- and boy has she eaten a lot in the last few days.

I woke up this morning from my NyQuil-induced coma in a panic. I remembered that yesterday while I was down, I needed to be at Tesco's buying my child things for his Victorian lunch (I'll get back to that). So now I needed to bake. Quick-like. With four mini-beasts circling me all drooling at the smell of food. I baked corn muffins and cake brownies and prayed my head cold wouldn't attack again until after I got the kids off.

Have I ever told you that when we moved here, I felt like I was coming home?
There's a number of reasons I've felt that way, but this time of year I'm reminded of something else.

I grew up LOVING Halloween. Living in a small town, we were safe trick-or-treating into the dark hours, really safe -- some homes actually gave treats like popcorn balls and caramel apples. We carried pillow cases instead of those silly little miniscule buckets and came home with them filled. The best part of Halloween night was coming home with first place of the costume contests. And I usually did. I say usually, because there was a fierce competition going on between my mother and another woman, both seamstresses. One year, my mom got REALLY perturbed with me because I announced to the class that I was going to be a bride. To my mom, it was a betrayal, and that year, I wasn't a bride after all. Despite this sick obsession (that somehow escaped my attention), I love getting dressed up.
When we moved here, you know, moved "home", one thing I was alerted to was the term "fancy dress". We began receiving "fancy dress" party invitations. Halloween or Fancy- I don't care, just give me a costume (me in glitter, soft fabrics, sleeky legs in stilettos= a costume)-- yeah, count me in.
However, I wasn't being invited, my kids were! Like I'm going to rent a tux for J2 to play football in or buy Miss Ky something glittery to get finger paint all over. whatever you crazy people.

A fancy dress party is a costume party. And the Brits like costume parties. I'm in Heaven-- I can buy costumes year round. There's even a special time every year, Book Week, when the kids dress up like their favourite book character. Many birthday parties are themed around pirates or princesses. There's more... like contests for example. Currently being held in the UK is a contest: Dress up like Angus from ACDC and you could win a trip to see the band! (If you're dressing like Angus regularly, you need a free trip to the fashion police station).

So what the heck is this post about anyway?

I'm trying to tell you in my own rambling, I've-had-too-much-NyQuil way, that I love living here. My kids are having some of the greatest opportunities of a lifetime.

J2 left for school today in a victorian get-up and was driven (by coach) with his classmates, to a victorian school where they had lessons, played games and ate their lunches of crusty breads, cheeses and chunks of meat (and a small cake) all wrapped up tidily in a tea towel.

The coach driver asked me, "You're not going?"
"No, I hung around and gave them lots of opportunities to ask me, but they just didn't"
"You have a costume?"
"Of course, doesn't everyone?"

Don't YOU have a tudor costume hanging in your wardrobe?

Well you'd better think of getting one if you intend to visit for any real length of time-- it's not just tea and biscuits over here!

How Can You Be Wordless on Winner Wednesday?

And the winner is......



Yeah Tamie! This link takes you to her thankful post-- it was one of the sweetest birthday tribute posts I've ever seen. Now, Tamie, if you will kindly click on that email me section
over there --------->
to give me the address you want this fun little goody box sent to, I will send it out quicker than you can get back into bed.

But Wait, that's not all.

I am really thankful that you all participated. It's hard incorporating someone else's whims into your own blog style. It's time consuming. It made you think-- like Autumn doesn't already bring enough pressure. So in my mind you're all winners... and if you will click the same place Tamie is clicking, leave me your snail mail addy, there's a little something for you too.

See? How could I be wordless this wednesday when everyone's a winner?
Congratulations!!