“F*ck off, chickens!” Charming! But justified to be fair. I hear this screamed angrily outside, Alex, is irate, not only have they ‘nested’ and thus torn up my freshly planted cherry tomatoes and strawberries in the veg patch, they are now on the flapping rampage for any masticated crumbs that maybe smoldering (oh yes, it’s been so hot, that I do worry the food matters scrunched into the floor of the car will self-combust) on the car floor, as he is looking for his ‘wax’. Not the hair variety, for his surf-board, just to clarify that. I have never to date witnessed food matters catch alight spontaneously, but there’s always tomorrow, I say.
|Harmless bit of playdough fun (despite appearances)-can you guess what it is yet? Rolph Harris would be impressed. Oh, and that's green food colouring on her nose, and no, it did not come off for a day or so.|
Talking of wee (go with me), Esmie was born with a reflux from her kidney to her bladder, in brief, the urine (such a posh, vulgar word, I think, like the ‘proper’ name for ‘front bottom’ and the male bit down below, I cannot even bring myself to write them. They’re just too haughty and rude sounding, that’s just my opinion), as I was saying, the urine gets sent down from the kidneys to the bladder, then one has a wee, and end of. With Esmie, the urine travels back up again to her kidney, so she is always at a risk of kidney/urine infections. She is monitored, and to date, everything has been A OK, so I am not neurotically worried, although i do have to 'be aware' as they insist on advising me over here. Last week she was not all that well, and the first thing I have to test is her urine. I drop off her little pot full of wee, in the morning at the clinic. It was quite an ordeal for all involved, suspending her with one arm over the toilet, whilst with the other hand targeting her wee with the pot, only I got weed on all over (inevitably) in the process. I hear wee is sterile though, so you know, there’s worse things that happen at sea (apparently). Fun stuff catching wee, I may take it up as a hobby, or maybe not, probably the most rank idea I’ve ever had, right there. So in order to remind me to collect her results that evening, I write ‘WEE’ in big letters on my hand. I go round all day with this ‘WEE’ stamped on my hand. And forget to collect the results. Thankfully, it all came back good. But this week has been one of those terribly disorganised, late for everything, going to meet someone 20 minutes away, when in fact I was supposed to meeting them down the road. Again, not fun, a time wasting event, that just is pointless and frustrating, leaving you with nothing but self-loathing feelings for being so, so incapable. *Bursts into helpless tears*. Truly one of those weeks (no I’m not finished yet, to drum my point home), where I just wanted to rip my own arm off, just so I had something to laugh about.
It’s 8.30 pm here, and I have just finally heard the final dying cries of tired hot kids dropping to sleep through sheer exhaustion, and the fact that their ‘last drinks/wees/kisses/cuddles/didn’t feel that kiss and cuddle/back for more excuses’ are now being met with a turned ‘person with impaired hearing’ ear, and it has finally paid off. I have a lot to get through this week, and hope to goodness it is no reflection on last week. We’ve had lots of fun planting our veggies, tending to the garden, hanging out, being attacked by chickens, hijacked by badgers and the like, but the flip side has been bedlam. And I won't be able to stand any excitement this coming week.
Easter weekend is fast approaching, and we have round 3 of easter eggs to get in-round one never saw it past the first night, round two were out the bag, hidden, and then eaten the same night. So I am holding off getting round three in till the bitter end. We cannot trust ourselves. We are the sort of parents who should never be trusted with their kids’ chocolates. This is a bad place to be in. I am ashamed of us, and will do better next week, promise! I have also unfortunately lost my voice (I am always losing stuff, but this was not even possibly my fault this time), so that’s gonna be challenging, the kids find it hilarious when I have lost my voice, pointing at me and laughing, like there never has been ever, anything funnier. Geers such as “ha ha, we can’t hear you mummy’ and as I try and whisper my response, they laugh even harder. It’s a cruel world, I don’t know how it’s going to pan out this week, I can but live in hope and buy shares in a foghorn company. TO DO list!
See you all again soon,