EDITING AWAY

 The bride and groom with their itsy bitsy flowergirl Originally uploaded by PhylB

Thomas and I got married on Saturday. Ever since I have been bombarded by people asking when the photos are going up on flickr! Given many were taken by a 9 year old, I am having to straighten and chop them a bit before they go up, so with that and work, and guests still here, I have very little time to blog at the moment. I will blog the wedding tomorrow once my guests have left but for now, I have managed to upload the photos up to our arrival at the registry office.

VI SKAL GIFTES

 Thomas and I Originally uploaded by PhylB

All week we've been trying, fairly unsuccessfully, to explain to Pudge that we are getting married. There are two problems. He doesn't know we aren't married and he doesn't know what married means anyway. From time to time Pudge has heard Thomas say Det er giftigt (that is poisonous) when he's gone to eat something he shouldn't. Today at breakfast Thomas told him again that we're getting married:Vi skal giftes. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I asked, given how worried he looked. It's a bad thing, he said, lip quivering, You might get dead from that you know! Poor wee man. Hopefully he'll enjoy the party tomorrow once he susses Thomas is not intending to kill me.

RYANAIR

Hahaha - I had to laugh this morning when I read penny-pinching Ryanair's latest idea. I'd love them to go ahead with it. I can see me on their flight, deliberately not having any pound coins on me, so as not to encourage them, standing with a small child peeing on the plane floor because I don't have change for their loo. Most of all I am desperate to see it backfire. I want to see their faces when people finally stop buying their ridiculously over-priced in-flight drinks, for fear of needing to pee before touchdown. That'd just make my day!

YUMMY TOOTHBRUSHING

 Tooth brushing Originally uploaded by PhylB

Have you tried the Aquafresh with lemon in? It is really nice. I always wondered why all toothpaste was mint. There isn't really any need for it to be, is there?

LAZY, OR STUPID?

Ok, I'm a bit stressed today but these buggers have annoyed me.
I have this ridiculous green sack I am meant to fit 4 weeks of plastic in - I'd need to melt it down to fit it in there for God's sake - there are 6 of us! It doesn't even fit our milk bottles for a week. Of course I can't fit it in the black bin either. It is too small for 6. So I come up with this great idea. I fill an extra box and I put it out beside my plastic this morning. It visibly contains only plastic. It should help East Ren meet their recycling quotas and I have nowhere else to put it anyway. The idiots turn up, empty my 2 blue bins, my 2 paper sacks, my normal bin and my green bag and leave the box of plastic untouched. I am left wondering if they are too lazy to empty it or simply too stupid to work out what to do with a pile of plastic which isn't bagged in the correct colour.

RAIN

Well just to add to our current woes, the BBC says Saturday is going to be torrential. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised in February, but to be honest, given how nice the weather was on Monday and Tuesday, I had dared to hope for better :-( I guess I should hang about the registry office for ten minutes and take a few photos since any photoshoot at Derek and Amanda's is likely to have drowned rats as its subject, and any photoshoot in the park is likely to be out of the question. Whatever the weather has in store, whatever the job prospects, at least I am assured a fascinating future full of love, tenderness, endless talking, respect, support and mutual nerdiness... I guess that counts most. Looking forward to seeing all those who've emailed (and hopefully more) on Saturday. If we've not finished making the cake by then, we'll nip into Sainsburys garage on Woodlands road and get a packet or two of digestives. I bet none of you has ever been to such an upmarket wedding, huh? ;-) Thomas just told me he plans to sculpt us two out of marzipan for the top of the cake. Now that's got to be worth coming to see, surely?!

THE TANTRUM GENE

I remember Charlotte's first ever real tantrum vividly. I was camping in the South of France the week of 9/11. I took her back to my cabin and asked if she wanted on her lime green babygro or a lilac one. She was 20 months old. She chose one, then the other, then the first again then started to cry as the decision became too tortuous in her sleepy state. She turned redder and redder, the crimson of her scalp shining through her white hair. She became hysterical, banging her head off the walls and biting the curtains. I actually laughed, it was such a ridiculous overreaction. Marcel had never had a tantrum so I was witnessing one for the first time. Of course, as the months and years passed and she continued to have the tantrums, I no longer found them amusing. I would arrive at work completely emotionally drained and moan at poor Thomas, my then office mate, about how dealing, usually single-handedly, with her strong will was killing me. I guess moaning to a man who would listen and sympathise slowly led me to fall in love with him. (What he saw in me, I have no idea!)
Pudge was a second Marcel. I don't think he's ever had a real tantrum. When you annoy him, he looks hurt and breaks your heart, rather than becoming angry.
Anna has been a very easy girl up to now but she is strong-willed. We saw that with her milk wars during January.
Today is pancake day. Thomas and the kids were making pancakes. Thomas let Anna sit on the work surface and stir the batter while Lots and Pudge made the pancakes. He turned his back and she took a ladle full of the batter and started dripping it down the front of the kitchen cupboards. He took the ladle from her and said No, Anna. She went berserk! She threw herself backwards, headbutting the floor. A full three minutes later Thomas, a six foot tall bloke, was still not strong enough to bend her enough to get her to sit in her seat to eat the pancakes because she was still doing that rigid toddler thing in disgust at her daddy. Anna is 6 months younger than Lots was in Argelès!
Oh my God... what do the next 3 years hold?!

WEIRD

I was reading this on the BBC yesterday. I found it interesting that the correspondent found the noise off-putting at times. When I finally landed in my beloved Manhattan after years of longing to go, the two things I found surprising, because they had not been obvious from seeing Manhattan on TV, were the noise and the smell. He's right, you can hardly hear yourself think for the noises of talking and traffic and everything else - it is wonderful! It is so alive, it is jumping. You couldn't have paid me enough to use earplugs! The noise made me want to skip with joy! And the smell was mouth-watering. At ever corner I encountered another new and delicious smell as someone cooked something you could buy for next to nothing. I just loved everything about it! I felt I'd come home. If I had all the money and job security in the world, I'd be flying there on Saturday to get married.

WEDDING PRESENTS

I forgot to mention wedding presents in my previous hurried wedding blog.
Given the short notice of the wedding, we aren't expecting any presents. We'd rather keep that issue together the Golf club reception later in the year/decade.
That makes it simpler for everyone! All we're looking for on the big day is your smiling faces - you know I'll be there with my camera, as always. It wouldn't be my wedding if I didn't take my own photos, would it?!

BARGAIN BASEMENT IMPROMPTU WEDDING

pc 1gs
Originally uploaded by 44b

Well you'll all have heard by now why the international wedding with reception party at the golf club had to be cancelled.
As Thomas says on his own blog, that left us 2 options - wait till we get back on our feet, which could be years, or do something wild and silly, so we have decided to choose the latter. Having discussed the options last Thursday after the work bombshell, we came to the conclusion we ought to have the wedding now and the reception one day in the hopefully not too distant future (or at the very least, before we die!)
So the plan is to get married a week on Saturday (28-02-09) at 2pm at the registry office in Park Circus. The rest depends a bit on our family, friends, and blog-readers. After the ceremony at 2-30 we will have champagne, or probably cava given our current budget, and a homemade (by Charlotte and Thomas) wedding cake - I am informed it is to be a kransekage (whatever that is) at my brother and sister-in-law's house just opposite the registry office.
Given we haven't time to send out invites, this is it - anyone we know with a spare hour or two on Saturday is formally invited for a slice of cake and a glass of something. The 10 spare seats in the registry office are on a first come first served basis, thereafter you're waiting outside for the cake and bubbly! We'd love to see you there to turn a depressing fortnight into a happier celebration.
More interesting than witnessing our wedding or even sampling the cake, rumour has it my biggest daughter has promised Pumpa she will remove her black jeans in favour of a dress for the first time in 4 years. Come on - those who know her know that is worth a photo in itself!
Looking forward to seeing you all!
(If you think you can make it, send us a wee email (phyllisgautier@hotmail.com) so we know how much bubbly to get in. I promise we won't hold you to it!)

WHY THE SILENCE?

Just 9 short weeks after resigning from my job because we needed someone to stay home to look after the children given the £1900 bill for nursery and afterschool, we were told last week that Thomas's job, amongst many others, is 'potentially redundant'. So I have spent the last week in a daze of panic, fear, tears, anger and incredulity as we try to work out how to feed 6 people and pay for the house, which we can't sell during the housing market collapse, on no income at the height of the worst recession in the last 100 years.
To lose one job, Mr Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.
Oh and the big summer wedding is now officially cancelled, of course.

DELIVERIES

Thomas bought a kitchen blind on the Internet last week.
Of course I went out for ten minutes on Thursday to do the school run at 3pm and came back to a card saying City Link had been. Given the card had a little box on the back ticked saying Mon-Fri we will deliver again tomorrow, I didn't think another thing about it.
Friday of course, they came during the school run too. Again the same wee card was left with the same box ticked.
Yesterday, no card, no delivery. That's odd, I'd better ring them.
I ring the number on the card (which tells me my local depot is Cambuslang). I get a ten minute automated service supposedly arranging my delivery and when I get to the last step it simply gives me a direct line number for Cambuslang! Wonderful.
I ring Cambuslang and get someone who sounds very Indian but is claiming to be Jane. Am I on to Cambuslang or Calcutta?? Whatever... Jane asks what my problem is. I tell her nicely that I have a card dated Friday saying it'd be delivered again Monday and no sign of them. Oh but that was the second time they tried to deliver it. Yes, I know but what relevance has that given the wee card says Mon-Fri we will deliver again tomorrow? Well we only deliver twice then we return things to the sender. Twice is more than reasonable... Well point one - twice during the week at 3pm suits very few people, point two - the card doesn't say come and get it or we'll send it back, it says Mon-Fri we will deliver again tomorrow. Oh the driver must have ticked the wrong box, then. Yes, maybe but given that is not my fault will you bring it Thursday please as I am busy tomorrow with guests who are flying in from abroad, I asked. Sorry, it's being returned to the supplier tomorrow because you didn't pick it up on time. I was getting annoyed by then. I would have considered the trip to Cambuslang on Saturday if the card had said pick this up now or we'll send it back. Today however I have a whole house to tidy for guests, 3 school runs, an ASDA trip and 2 kids to deal with so no I am not coming to Cambuslang. I suggested given it was their error, they put a wee sticker on it saying deliver Thursday, do not send back. Oh I can't do that, she said, it's the computer that sends it back. Why do people put up with this shite? An hour later I had given up on Jane and tracked down the web company and had managed to convince them to ring Jane and tell her computer not to send it back but to bring me it Thursday instead. I guess I'd better invite my parents for coffee at 3pm. If there is any chance it shows up, you can be sure it'll be at 3pm!

WHY BLOG?

I got into a discussion with mum, dad and Thomas about blogging yesterday. Dad, Thomas and I of course are bloggers, mum is not. Mum asked why we bother. Dad's reply was that it was a bit like a diary, mum of course replied to that that you wouldn't publish your diary on the Internet so she didn't get it. At that point they left, so the discussion went no further.
Dad's comment that it was a diary however got me to thinking. For the most part, for me, it is the antithesis of a diary. There are whole areas people mull over in their private diaries (I suspect, given I have never been interested in keeping one!) that in my head are strictly off blogging limits:

• One's employer. Someone might write in a personal diary about things troubling them at work, colleagues who've upset them, colleagues they fancied, or had affairs with.
• Intimate family matters. They might write their worries about loved ones, or frustrations about them, the things they did that made them sad, happy or whatever.
• Ex-husbands and marital break-ups are not blog material. I may skim the surface of that. I might moan about the financial aspects of divorce but I have thousands of emails from my ex that will never be discussed in public. When my marriage was in trouble, you'd have found it in a private diary, had I had one, but not on my blog...
• Sex. I guess people might write about their sex lives in private diaries. You don't see me going through the x, y and z of my sex life on here either.
• etc

So why do people blog?

• It's nice to have a good rant once in a while to de-stress, especially if you spend 12 hours alone or with children most days.
• Thinking through your views on a given subject is easier if you set them out and re-read them. Again if you are stuck home alone all day, it helps to keep your mind working and rather than ignoring my other half by blogging, we end up reading each other's posts and using that as the lively starting point for a political, linguistic etc discussion that go on into the wee small hours. Ok so we're nerds, big deal!
• It's fun to point out something happening economically or politically a couple of days before real journalists, and smugly feel - I told you so...
• It helps language-wise. I read others' blogs on a daily basis as I read newspapers. I read them in Danish (and other languages). This keeps my brain working, it helps my Danish, etc. So you learn a language without taking a class.
• I write anecdotes about my kids. Looking back on them makes me laugh. If they amuse others too, all the better, if they don't, no one is forcing them to read them.
• I can check important (to me) facts - say how long Léon's chicken pox lasted, when my kids learned to walk or whatever just by searching my blog - it's a handy resource, kept all in the one place.
• I stay in touch with old friends and foreign family. I have a house with 8 main rooms, 3 bathrooms, kitchen, hall etc to keep functional, I have 6 people to wash, iron and cook for, 3 sets of school runs, shopping, a freelance career, 2 sets of homework a night and 2 toddlers to teach French, reading etc to. Funnily enough that doesn't leave me time to ring all my old friends and let them know what I am up to on a weekly (monthly) basis. By noting down little snippets of my thoughts and deeds, they can choose to stay in touch with my life and when we do chat, we feel we've been in touch more often.
• Some people are frustrated writers, journalists, photographers - we can't all be lucky enough to get the job we want, so we can pretend to ourselves we matter this way.
• If you drop dead, run over by a truck, a blog might let your kids know who you were, what you thought etc
• You get to know new people. I read and talk to other photographers I admire, other bloggers who mention topics that interest me. When you are overwhelmed by too many tasks in too few hours, having someone you can talk to through your blog for a few minutes can keep you sane.
• By ranting about things that are wrong with society, you reach more people than by writing to an MP who can sends you a standard 'don't bother me' letter.
• You can draw your friends' attention to things that may interest them.
• You can ask friends' advice - eg my search for a memorable, low-budget wedding.
• And why not blog? Is it any worse to blog 30 minutes a day than do a crossword, knit a jumper, watch Eastenders, walk the dog or any of the other things that give you pleasure?

And after all, if I average 8000 hits a year, someone must be interested...

BONUSES FOR BANKERS

Day 22: Have Your Cake . . .
Originally uploaded by heath_bar

The contractual obligation to pay top bankers their cash bonuses despite their failures is all over the front pages of the Sunday papers today. Most people are angry because tax payers are now the major share holders so why should we pay out.
I, however, am struck by that phrase 'contractual obligation to pay bonuses'. Why? Because if they are contracted to receive the money then surely it isn't a bonus, it is a contractual part of their salary. Now if you are an average man in the street you don't see the problem or reasoning there. If, however, you are a divorced parent of small children the penny drops. The CSA, the UK body that deals with child maintenance payments, bases the sum paid to the residential parent on a percentage of the non-residential parent's gross salary excluding bonuses and shares. What you find in companies and sectors where there are a lot of divorced, well-paid, middle-aged men is that basic salaries have gone down and are now supplemented by bonuses equating to between 25% and 100% of their salary. Why is that allowed? In my own case, having been the family accountant before my divorce, I know around half of my ex-husband's salary is being exempted from child support because it is paid as bonuses and shares. I presume the banking sector too means long, stressful hours and therefore has led to many divorces. Often what has happened is that the salary is minimal and the bonus outstrips it by far. The bonus of course was probably once part of the salary but if you are a divorced 45 year old dad a salary of £80K is much less interesting to you than a salary of £40K supplemented by a contractual bonus of £35K, but those who have opted for the latter will be up in arms if suddenly bonuses are removed given competitive salaries for similar jobs are probably around £80K.
All I am saying is that if bonuses are part of your contractual salary and not a one-off gift, then it should be taken into consideration when child maintenance awards are calculated. This situation should never have been allowed to develop with the purpose of avoiding paying for the upkeep of your children. Otherwise you end up with one parent struggling to provide the basics for the kids while the other becomes super-dad visiting restaurants and cinemas every time they have them for the weekend. The kids are meant to be the ones that count here, not the parents.

DANISH

Spiekermann House Numbers
Originally uploaded by Stewf

I am not the worst language learner in the world, even if I say so myself. I started French as a small child - primary 4, I think, then German in 2nd year at high school. At uni I first did Italian and then Swedish. Through work I have been forced over the years to confront Spanish and Portuguese. Though I may only be able to speak French, German and Italian, I can certainly read and understand Swedish, Spanish and a wee bit of Portuguese.
That brings me of course to Danish...
When I shared an office with Thomas as mates 6 years ago, I used to listen to him on the phone sometimes to see what I could pick up. He'd mail me the odd link to newspaper articles and with a lot of concentration I could get the gist of them mainly through my very rusty knowledge of Swedish. Over the years I got better and better at reading it but because it isn't pronounced anything like it is written (it is even worse than English and that is saying something), I found it hard to draw the parallel between a written word and its spoken form. For instance the word meget sounds more or less to me (and my French speaking kids) like the French word mal. So why the hell do those weird Danes spell it meget???
Finally, now into my third year of living with a Dane I understand! I know what the written words mean in the newspaper, and when Thomas and his parents sit round my table talking I can follow that too. Result!!!
There are only two problems.
The first is pronunciation. Danish is full of weird sounds and Danes are used to speaking English and less used to English-speaking people attempting Danish. On the odd occasion I attempt a Danish word with Thomas or mention any of his friends by name - he completely demoralizes me by looking totally blank as if I have attempted martian. I mentioned the other day I had been speaking to Lykke on facebook. He had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. Ok, I didn't pronounce it wonderfully but as someone who has tried other languages, French and Germans understand you but laugh no matter how badly you pronounce their language. Danes just look blank. I guess they just aren't used to us foreigners even saying hello :-(
The second major obstacle, and the only point I totally lose the conversation when listening to Danes round the table is numbers. Danes have some weird names for numbers - they are nothing like Swedish or German or English. I have no comprehension whatsoever of Danish numbers. I know the sounds - so I know when they are discussing prices or ages, I just have no clue whatsoever which number they are talking about.
I think I'll start a campaign for a Danish spelling and number reform. And maybe I'll also try to get Thomas to understand foreigners might try a wee bit harder to pronounce it, if he tried a wee bit harder to understand bad pronunciation of Danish!

A BLOGGY WEDDING?

Bride and Groom winebottles
Originally uploaded by robleto

I'm still a bit stressed about this whole wedding thing. Only having family risks turning into a damp squib of a day... not that I have a problem with our families - of course not, but as I said before it'd feel like Boxing Day and make (what will hopefully be Thomas's only wedding day) a bit underwhelming. Then we thought of choosing 7 or 8 friends each to add to that but firstly even that is expensive - 20 family plus 15 friends plus possibly 15 partners, various offspring etc. This appeals more but isn't particularly wise in this economic climate. You don't want to book a wedding and then find you can't pay for it when it comes round because everyone has lost their job or whatever. Also by the time you get to my age choosing just 7 or 8 out of 50 friends is depressing and divisive.
Then it came to me in my dream last night. How about the ultimate nerd wedding? You don't send invites. You leave an open invitation on your blog and those who read it come along. Not only do you find out that way who reads you, you have a fun surprise day... (and you probably get to meet some new complete weirdos you've never seen before!) And as for the meal - you just have a big picnic somewhere.
Perfect!

Although it could turn out that no one reads it and we'd be standing there alone - hahahaha.

A WEE SNOWY RANT

Monday was great. It snowed soft fluffy snow. The kids had fun in the snow during their school breaks.
Now, here's where I start the ranting... It has been dry and cold all week, not snowing heavily during school hours, not raining. There is still snow on the ground of course, and a bit of ice: Monday's snow froze, Tuesday we got some more, then last night again so we have several layers of ice and snow out there. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday I pick my kids up from school expecting them to be like doggies with two tails and they come out looking subdued. The school of course in this everyone-sues-everyone age has kept the poor buggers indoors the whole day, in their classrooms rather than letting them run around the icy playground throwing snowballs. They are frightened someone gets hurt on the ice now it has frozen over, Charlotte says sadly.
When are we going to get the balance right? Childhood is about running about on the snow and the ice. If one kid in the school slips and breaks an arm every 24 months, so be it. If it is my kid, I am not going to sue anyone. I want my kids to have the freedoms I had as a kid, running about like mad things, whooping with joy, not sitting baking in a warm class for fear of the council being sued. When I was a kid there wasn't a month went by without some child wandering about school with its arm in plaster. Invariably, the accident had happened in school. We even envied them getting out of gym or written homework. No one sued anyone. Nowadays it's just pathetic!

MY BIRTHDAY

It was my birthday once again yesterday. I wonder why, when you are a kid and you love birthdays, there seem to be years, decades almost, between them and yet when you are an adult and would rather do without one, they turn up at, what feels like, monthly intervals. Isn't life funny?
Thomas ordered me a present which we went out in a snow storm on Tuesday night to pick up, only to find the pick-up service at Tesco closed. It was freezing and we'd gone after I finished work at 11pm, so that wasn't the best start.
Wednesday morning started with me having to work 7am onwards (ie before the kids woke up). Fun! (But as a first present Anna slept all night - what more could I really want?) The big ones rushed off the school squabbling as usual without so much as acknowledging it was my birthday. What's new there?
Things improved when the postman turned up with two cards for me at 10am. Thanks Shona and Sheina.
Mum and Dad invited me to the Golf club for lunch which was nice. The course looked very crispy!
Then I spent my usual hour picking up the 3 big ones.
We got home just before 4 and Charlotte wished me a Happy Birthday. Charlotte proudly handed me an envelope which she'd coloured in. I opened it to find a home-made card which had been too big for the envelope so she'd folded to fit in. It was a bit of a mess - but very sweet! I tried to open it but she'd sellotaped it shut! I opened the tape and 5 tiny chocolates fell out. My teacher gave me these for Christmas so I kept some for your birthday she said proudly. (I guess that's a sign of will power in a small child!) I then opened the card to find she had taped two 10p and one 5p coin inside. I saved this for you to buy yourself something, she said! How sweet! She then tidied the living room as an 'extra gift'. She is an endearing child. I went to the kitchen to make coffee. Pudge turned up with a freshly homemade card. He had taped one 1p coin in it!!! This is from my money pig, he stated very seriously! 26p - I guess I need to go shopping today ;-)
Suddenly at 4-10 I remembered I was meant to be at the doctor for Léon's MMR booster! Oops - senile already? I flew out the house and arrived just 5 minutes late. The health visitor checked his records and couldn't find any note of him having had the original MMR at 13 months old. I am sure he did but have no proof. She checked the computer - it said he'd had it on 13 December 08... emmmm that was a Saturday and 18 months too late - I don't think so! After half an hour of checking various records we abandoned the booster until the doc could track down where we are at on the immunisation plan. The rush out in the snow seemed to be in vain, until she offered Anna a Men-C booster instead! Poor Anna.
Home again, I made a nice curry. I was just finishing it at 6-15 when Marcel wandered in Oh you made dinner - I was just coming down to make you dinner for your birthday he said. I guess it is the thought that counts.
After dinner, back to Tesco in another snowstorm to pick up what turned out to be a shiny new black laptop. That will be wonderful because my old one is so slow running Vista it takes me 20 minutes to log in in the mornings to work!
Then we all shared a ridiculously fattening chocolate cake and went to bed.
The day definitely improved as it went on.
Now I guess I'll blink and my next birthday'll sneak up on me at an even more alarming rate.

SNOWBALLS

How about this for an action shot? Boy did he have fun...

SNOWMEN

 Real kids and snow kids Originally uploaded by PhylB

Today I helped Léon build 3 snowmen in the garden. When we finished he looked rather serious then asked: Will he fly away with me now and try to steal my beer?!

A WEE EUROPEAN RANT

lego europe
Originally uploaded by cemre

I've been listening to all this protectionist nonsense since last week and it's starting to piss me off. We are EU citizens and as such we all have equal rights to work wherever we want within the EU. It's hardly Europe's fault if we are to stupid or too stubborn.
Tonight I'm fainting in shock at the realization that I am in agreement with that Mandelson slimeball for the first time in my life. (Isn't it nice to live is a country where you have freedom of speech ;-) ). First of all, I think retaining the jobs for British workers is bad for business. If Brits know their employer can't go out and hire people more capable of a job because they are forced to use locals whatever their qualifications, where is the incentive for the Brit to learn how to do the job well and to work hard? Secondly, given the poor state of the education system in many areas, you'd be hard pushed to find someone qualified to do a specific job at times. Of course as soon as we ban the Italian workers, they ban ours and so on till the economy is unworkable...
(As an aside I have to laugh at the whole story that started these strikes in the first place - Total (a French company) is employing Italians in Linconshire. Maybe they would be happy if Total withdrew from England altogether and moved the oil plant to say Lorraine instead - they have been hard up for industry there too since the mines closed down? In fact maybe Nissan, Toyota and the likes should also move their plants back home so they can employ their own locals??? Just a thought...)
Anyway the reason the whole thing is infuriating me so much is because it is a question of language of course. Five years ago many Poles came to Britain because our currency was worth more than theirs. Young educated Poles came here and took on menial jobs until they mastered the language well enough to work in the area they were qualified to. They worked hard, sent some money home, saved for a better life and either stayed or went home again. I presume some families were separated for a few years while one member worked here to send money home too. This is a horrible thing to have to do but they did it for a better life. What makes us believe we are better than them? Our young people sit here whinging they can't get a job but they can't speak any foreign languages. Are we too good to go and clean the Dutch equivalent of Waterstones or stack the Portuguese Tesco's shelves until we master their language enough to get the job we are qualified for? Our currency is now the underdog. Our young people should be jumping at the chance to rush out and earn some Euros. The big problem of course is that learning a new unknown language is 100 times easier than learning a first foreign language. The other Europeans pick up English better and quicker because they are experienced language learners. We are abysmal at language teaching and should be making an effort to prepare our young people for the work place of the future instead of assuming arrogantly that we have no need to learn languages or ever work abroad.

A FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH DEATH

 Angel boy Originally uploaded by PhylB

Today Léon and I were sorting through an old toy box. We happened upon an old mirror my old Gramps had given me for Christmas when I was a teenager. Léon asked me if he could have it. I replied that he could but he had to take special care of it as it had been a present from my Gramps and he was dead now. A look of utter horror crossed his face and he exclaimed: My God, was he shot by a tank or something??? I don't think he realized people just die when they get old!

UK UNIVERSITIES

It suddenly struck me the other day that this economic crisis will be interesting to watch from a higher education perspective. Already lecturer friends of mine have been complaining, or even resigning because of the 'dumbing down' of the current university courses. A professor friend said to me just last summer, and I quote 'You have no idea how well educated you are compared to today's kids - you'd get a PhD instead of an MA at your level these days'. When I asked why the courses were being made easier, he told me they had to be seen to be giving out a reasonable number of good degrees to attract funding and to attract foreign students who were bringing a lot of money into the universities. Often though, the foreigners were too poor at English to obtain the degree they came for so pressure was being put on the university 'not to put off the foreigners'. Now, look at it in this economic crisis. I presume student loans are harder to come by because of the credit crunch. I also assume unemployed struggling parents will be finding it hard to lay out thousands of pounds to allow junior to go to uni. Foreigners however will be rubbing their hands together because the UK currency has become a joke. Foreigners will flood into the universities taking up the cheap places our kids can't afford, the degrees will need to suit their needs and once they are educated - let me guess - will they stay here or will they go back home where they can earn twice as much? Hmmm - hard question! Well done Gordon - looks like you wrecked the higher education system in the UK too.

AS I WAS SAYING...

 Scone party Originally uploaded by PhylB

I am still looking for the answers. Apparently it is even worse in Scotland than down South but it can't continue like this in either country. When I did not go back to work in December, I ranted about it then. This article confirms it would have cost me £20748(net) a year in childcare if I had gone back to work. Reading the article, I had to laugh at the quote: "There can be no doubt this will hit Scottish parents in the pocket." This is a major understatement. They are insinuating Scottish families will struggle to meet the increased childcare costs. They fail to realize the major changes to the economy that this will bring. For starters, people like me, who went to university, paid for by taxes, will be lost more or less to the workforce for the a decade after their youngest child is born. Although I am trying to fit in some freelance work from home, trying to do more than 90 minutes a day with no childcare is impossible. Is that really what the economy needs? What will happen when this generation of women who suddenly had to give up their jobs has a pension deficit? The impact on family planning is also interesting. When I went to school in the 70s the majority of families seemed to have two kids about three years apart. A minority had one or three kids and I never met any larger families. From seven years at the school gate, I have noticed this changing. Two kids is still the norm in my area, but often there are more than five years between them, no doubt to minimize nursery costs. Another thing I am seeing more and more of is larger families, especially amongst educated people who can often fit in a bit of freelance work from home. Charlotte's best friend is one of six. His parents are in healthcare. I have at least half a dozen close friends with four children. They figure if they can't go into the office anyway, they might as well have more kids, I guess! It will be interesting to watch this unfold.

HOLOCAUST MEMORIAL DAY

Auschwitz II entrance
Originally uploaded by vm_ramos

As the living generations become fewer, we must make it our duty to educate our children about the past.

AT WAR

 Anna loves Maggie Originally uploaded by PhylB

I know it's partly our own fault for giving in to her but Anna has still never slept through the night. On December 30th we started a controlled crying effort to change that and of course she then proceeded to fall ill and be up all night with colds and fever a few days later so it was all out of the window. She is more or less back to being ok so we recommenced battle on Saturday night. She fell asleep between 9pm and 10pm and around 3am she woke up, stood up in her cot and announced that she wouldn't mind some milk. I laid her down and said it was 'sleepy time' not 'milky time'. About 12 seconds later, she stood back up and said 'oh you bloody think so!' or the baby equivalent at least. She proceeded to stand up and shout abuse for about 2 hours, with us laying her back down under her covers about 200 times before she gave up and went to sleep. I was dreading Sunday into Monday because I didn't want her wakening the kids on a school night. Bedtime was fine but she then got up at 1am, and again from 3-15am to 6am. At first I calmly managed to lie her down at 30 second intervals but by 6am I was glad her diction wasn't yet good enough to repeat what I was saying. I don't really want to be about when she sweetly comes out with 'For fuck's sake - Anna SLEEEEEEEEP!' Poor Thomas was lying under the duvet muttering something about getting up for work in half an hour. Last night as if on a timer, she woke up at 3-16am precisely and started the whole thing all over again. This one is a stubborn little besom. By sitting next to the cot I nearly got her to sleep after just half an hour but when I dared to go under the duvet myself because I was freezing, we got another 20 minutes of her standing up and me lying her back down over and over. This time at least Charlotte was sleeping in Marcel's room so I wasn't worried about her. Thomas suggested we leave her to stand in the cold and ignore her just for 5 minutes to see if that helped. We were beginning to see even me putting her back down was giving her attention which she had decided was better than no attention. She stood shouting at us for nearly 10 minutes, then went quieter. Thomas got up and told her it was sleepy time. He held her for 2 minutes and she collapsed sound asleep till 6-30am. Are we ever going to win this battle?

TIME FOR A RETHINK

Today Thomas and I went in to Glasgow's Kelvingrove Art Gallery to see what turned out to be a rather unimpressive Impressionist exhibition. They seemed to have moved half a dozen of the paintings from upstairs, which you can usually view for free, to the dark, dull basement. They then borrowed another dozen from the Edinburgh Gallery and the Burrell, also usually free, then charged you £5 to see them together in one room. They weren't all Impressionist paintings either. Some seemed only to qualify by being from the same era and being vaguely fuzzy in their nature! In fact, I'd go as far as to recommend a trip to the 2nd floor instead where the French gallery has just as many Impressionist period paintings on display in a much nicer and brighter room! It won't be long before any foreign visitors to Glasgow start feeling used and abused either! These donation boxes are beside all the exits. I suppose they'll all be wondering why they should suddenly pay much more than the Brits for the same experience! I guess the massive devaluation in the pound might at least lead to a job or two for people who makes signs like this!

PET HATES

Pixar Campus
Originally uploaded by mathoov

Everyone in this house drives me mad! I think I am going to invent DVDs that are a different shape from XBOX and Wii games and CDs.
Pudge has been wanting the movie Ratatouille for ages and this week they were selling it on Play with a free copy of Cars. I ordered it and it turned up this morning, so I decided to put it on as there are a lot of dishes and washing to be done.
I am informed the DVD player has been disconnected to make way for the XBOX since we got that at Xmas, so I try at least 3 buttons before I even manage to make that open - ho hum. Technology doesn't usually faze me but TV just doesn't do it for me.
So I finally get into the XBOX and the DVD of Romeo and Juliet is in the machine. Marcel was watching the DiCaprio version as he needed to read a modern version of it for school and although the movie is modern, the text is an abridged version of the original. Not only was he understanding it, he was even enjoying it! (There's hope in my life when an 11 year old boy watches Shakespeare in the original!)
Anyway, I take that out and go to put it in the DVD box lying beside the XBOX. Of course Fifa09 for XBOX is in the the Shakespeare DVD box, I remove that and open the Fifa box and in there is a wii game, and so on all the way down the line till I even find a CD in one box. Don't these crazy people I live with realize that by saving two seconds by putting the DVD in the wrong box, they are making it impossible to ever find anything again in the entire house? I think an suitable punishment for putting the wrong DVD in a box would be amputation of one or both hands...

THE PERFECT HUSBAND?

I went shopping in ASDA the other day. On my way home I did my 3 school/nursery runs. I left the bags of shopping on the kitchen floor and started work on something else. I forgot about them. Thomas came home from work and I started cooking. I noticed the chicken, beef and ice cream were in the freezer, the cheese and milk in the fridge on the correct shelves. I found the cereal in the dining room on the Welsh dresser as always. The nappies were in the hall cupboard. Five steaks had been left out. Anna is still a tiny bit too small for steak, so I was intending to make her a sausage. How thoughtful of Thomas to spend his first 15 minutes after getting in tidying all that! What a help :-) Pudge shouted from the loo Mummy I've done a poo, can you wipe my bum? I went to the bathroom door and said I'd be right with him as soon as I found a pack of babywipes. They are there on the downstairs bathroom shelf in a pile he replied. I put them there when I was putting away the shopping... Pudge put away all the shopping??? In 4 different rooms, on shelves he couldn't reach, perfectly? I asked Thomas. He knew nothing about my shopping! I guess it goes to prove that if you have enough kids, one'll turn out to be perfect eventually!!!

AN ODD FEELING

Since I resigned back in November, I have had a large cardboard box sitting on the floor in my kitchen. I went into the office for a meeting and someone handed me it saying my office had been cleared out and my 18 years of personal possessions put in the box.
I didn't really feel like looking in it. I didn't suppose it contained anything I actually needed at home. I figured it had a couple of cups, a nailfile, 10 years of photos that at various times had been on my office wall.
I put the bin out tonight for the binmen and noticed it was nearly empty - a good night to throw out anything I didn't need to keep.
I brought through the box. It was odd to see 18 years of paperwork.
I found drawings by the kids that I had had on my walls. One by Charlotte aged 2, one by Marcel aged 4 - it was of me holding his and Charlotte's hand, from a time of innocence before he discovered the chart show and chatting up girls on msn!
I found my first ever computing tutorials. I had forgotten I knew nothing of UNIX when I first started in Collins.
I found folders on every project I ever worked on from the first ever English framework back in 1991 right through to the stuff I am now working on freelance.
There were many papers I had written. Some sounded almost like I once had a functioning brain. Funny to think all that is somehow meaningless now. It was almost an out-of-body experience watching myself go through all the dictionaries, computing projects and the rest... weird, sad really...

SUCH AMBITION

Dunce
Originally uploaded by Drumaboy

So because kids are too badly educated to write something intelligible, the solution is to not make them write anything? How exactly can English language be tested in a multiple choice manner? Of course money comes into it too. They can't afford to pay intelligent markers on their budget so they want computers to mark the exams. The English must be so proud of their educational system!
The first time one of my kids sits a multiple choice English exam, remind me to emigrate.

WHOSE GENES?

pink baby slippers
Originally uploaded by Funky Shapes

Thomas and I are having a bit of a stand-off at the moment. A slipper stand-off.
I hate having cold feet, so October to April I will always put on socks and slippers, especially if I have to walk on the cold tiled floor or outside to take out the bin in the snow.
Thomas on the other hand seems to have no feeling beneath his knees. He happily takes the bins outside barefoot even in the snow. He walks around the tiled floors barefoot, moaning slightly about the temperature but looks at me as if I am insane if I suggest socks. The first thing he does when he comes in from work, whatever the weather, is discard his socks and shoes.
As you can imagine - sleeping in the same bed as him on a November day, when he's taken out the bins is bloody cold.
Now if he wants to torture himself, I have no problem with that, as long as he heats them up before coming anywhere near me in the dark.
The problem is Anna. I think we both mentally feel for her. If Thomas dresses her in warm trousers and a jumper and leaves he sitting barefoot on the floor I stick socks and slippers on her. He looks forlorn, as if I am committing child abuse. If I dress her, her socks and slippers often mysteriously disappear.
I guess we can't wait till she's big enough to tell us which of us is pissing her off big time.

A BUS

An Atheist Bus - Newington Green Road, London
Originally uploaded by carlosfpardo

At last! Even public transport I can relate to! It's time we fought back. What is this man's problem? Public transport has been throwing God at us all my life. Aren't we allowed our opinion too?
Thomas saw one in Glasgow this week. I must keep my mobile charged and get a photo!

PSYCHOSOMATIC RAISIN HATRED

Raisins
Originally uploaded by cbcastro

My kids all loved tiny boxes of raisins when they were little. Around 7 they decided raisins weren't particularly palatable but forced them down if they were in a cake or scone. By 9 raisins are the devil's food - they'd wear garlic to ward off the evils of raisins if they thought it'd do any good. What is the problem with raisins? I am 40 and I love raisins - in scones, in cakes, in cereal, in little boxes. Weird.

LET'S DISCUSS THE SCENARIOS ONE AT A TIME

cake top
Originally uploaded by red betty black

OK, for argument's sake, let's discuss the minimalist options first.
The most minimal guest list is Thomas and I... This is unlikely to be popular! Marcel is already bouncing around mentally ordering food and teasing Charlotte about female attire. I doubt the parents would be overly pleased either.
So the minimal is probably me, Thomas, Marcel, Charlotte, Léon, Anna, mum, dad, Derek, Amanda, Gordy, Brita, Peter, Miriam, Bjørn, Felix, Theodor and Ursula.
Given this is all our immediate family, we tried to imagine the day.
We'd need to get married on a Saturday to allow the foreigners to get here. Saturday services at Registry Offices are usually 10am-1pm. So say we are married by 1-30pm in Glasgow. What do we do with the rest of the day? We could go to Derek and Amanda's for a quick glass of bubbly as it is in the same street at the Registry Office. What would we do from 2-30pm onwards, say 3pm onwards if you take a photo or two. We could arrange a nice meal in the evening but with just 10 adults, you can't have it in a venue dedicated just to you, so I guess it'd mean a restaurant surrounded by other people. That might last 6pm to 8pm. I presume given 8 kids you wouldn't want to start eating at 8pm... Also you'd stand out as a wedding party so it'd be odd in a normal restaurant. But would this feel any different from a family birthday meal or every other Boxing Day meal? And then at 8pm - what do you do? Go back home and put on the dishes, do some washing? How do you make it a special day? How do you make it interesting for the foreign guests, and the kids and us?
Ho hum :-(

PAPER AEROPLANE TORTURE

While out shopping at Xmas, Thomas came across a desk calendar consisting of 365 different paper aeroplanes. He figured it'd be good for someone so brought it home. He was considering sending it to one of his sister's stepsons in Denmark but it is incredibly heavy. Lots is bit of an engineer so we decided it was probably best to give it to her. What a bloody mistake that was. It's so complex, I doubt even those working at Boeing could do it, and worse still she likes it so much, she bounces in from school every day and tortures us for help till we're pulling our hair out :-(

Oh well, only 351 to go...

THIS IS HARD :-(

Weddings are harder to organize than in my mum and dad's (left) day. When I said yes to Thomas the other day, I had forgotten a few things...

• Firstly, there's the fact that (don't tell anyone - this is between you and me ;-) ) I actually hate weddings - other peoples', mine, you name it!

• Then, as if I haven't learned my lesson from the first time round, we have to try to work out a date that suits potential foreign guests as well as the home-grown variety.

• Then, there's the fact that it is my 2nd (or maybe technically 3rd - (we had a 2nd wedding in France last time round)) wedding but his first so my expectations may be different from his!

• Next, given our (or my) advanced years, I know so many people, and Thomas does too. If we have everyone we'd like there then we need to spend a year's salary on the dinner.

• Also, given it happened last time round, there's that unbalanced wedding problem when one of you is foreign (no one came from France last time, hence the second expensive do). With the best will in the world, friends who agree a wedding abroad may be fun, often drop off the radar once they start calculating the hassle value of flights, accommodation, work holidays, kids' school holidays etc. So we have to gauge whether or not a wedding with our friends might not turn into a party for mine, for the most part. Maybe a safer and fairer option in that case is a tiny, strict family-only do...

• Even that isn't without problems of course, given modern times we have the problem of finding a date where, not only I have my kids available to attend, given André sees them 8 nights a month, but where those nights overlap with when Thomas's sister and her husband have their kids, given they are in a similar, post-divorce second marriage.

• Finally, there are small problems, such as getting Marcel to a hairdresser and Charlotte to realize I really don't want Anna in a bridesmaid's dress, the boys in kilts and Lots in a pair of jeans and a skull T-shirt (this itself could turn out to be the trickiest problem of all!)

Of course I have suggested to Thomas that running away to the Caribbean or up the Empire State building might be easier than finding a suitable compromise to all the above but he's not sure it would be the best option for a first wedding, though he may come round to my way of thinking! I always fancied a barefoot wedding on a beach but if we opt for Prestwick instead of Hawaii, we could be dodging some rain clouds - I remember being soaked through to my underwear in the rain last time I went to a Scottish wedding and that was last July! Maybe if it all gets too stressful, I could hire a stunt-double for the day!

GREAT!

So sleeping less than 7 hours a night leaves you vulnerable to the cold - that's just great. I haven't slept more than 3 or 4 hours a night now since last Thursday because I've been up with the 2 wee ones who have colds, throat and chest infections. I guess I'm next...

ENGAGED!

 Engaged! Originally uploaded by viralbus

What a weekend! Pudge has been vomiting and burning up since late Thursday so we've been up for hours during the night. Last night while dealing with 3am vomit, Anna started barking like a seal and is also roasting now. It's been pouring with rain and blowing a hurricane. You need wellies to get to the garage. Thomas suggested a trip to town to find something for his sister's birthday. I wondered if amazon might not be a better bet given the circumstances, especially given she'd mentioned a pile of books she fancied but he insisted. Grrrrr. We went to the Argyll Arcade to look at necklaces and then went through the whole place looking at rings instead! After years of jumping through Scottish divorce hoops, I am finally free, so Thomas had decided to buy me a beautiful ring from the most wonderful shop Mr Harold & Son and some flowers and I jumped at the chance to say yes and formalize what has been the situation in all but name for several years now. My mum's already been on asking how long she has to diet(!) and no doubt con my dad out of a new frock - no idea, we haven't thought about any of the other logistics. I should look into it over the next few days... The main thing is I am thrilled, Thomas seems to be too (crazy man seems to want to be landed with wrinkly old me and all my children) and the big kids also seem positive. Marcel was less than pleased at my answer to his query of when the wedding was to be... Not till you've had your hair cut! Charlotte of course simply came out with a dismissive I hope you're making Anna the flower girl. This of course is code for I don't intend to wear a dress to your wedding mother! I don't think Léon knew we weren't married but is looking forward to a nice party anyway. Anyway, watch this space!

FUN

Life with four kids has been reasonably easy till now but Anna discovered how to navigate stairs yesterday. I guess that leaves me the choice between trusting the other 3 kids to constantly shut a stairgate at both the bottom and top of the staircase (pigs might fly), or trying to teach Anna the way you get back down when you climb up by accident (backwards). Oh joy!

HOW TO PHONE?

 Phoning Miriam Originally uploaded by PhylB

You wouldn't think in this technologically advanced day and age phoning would be getting harder rather than easier would you? Most families are one nation families so their phoning options are increasing greatly but multinational families are actually in danger of losing contact altogether simply because each country's norms differ vastly. Take our current situation. Up till Brita (Thomas's mother) retired they lived in a house with a phone so Thomas phoned his mum on average once a week for about an hour. Added to that his dad often called him more than once in the week for a quick 5-10 minute chat. No problem there, especially given we get free calls to Denmark with our digital TV package - way to go - I remember the early days when you paid maybe a fiver to phone a relative abroad. Most broadband packages come linked to a UK landline, all Sky digital TV services require a landline - the companies offer free phoning because phoning is no longer the primary use of your land line. Therefore the norm in the UK is to have a landline with free international calls. So where's the problem you ask? Read the smallprint - we get free calls to international landlines. In Denmark there is no countrywide link between landlines and broadband or digital TV services, add to that the fact that mobile calls in Denmark are 10% of the cost here - so what is becoming the norm in Denmark? No landline, only mobiles of course. So now Thomas's parents have moved into the flat our weekly call to them has increased from £0-00 to about the equivalent of buying Anna an extra 176 Pampers nappies a week! I am sure not many people would like to add that to their shopping list, especially not in these hard times. Adding 763 top quality nappies, or say 5 litre bottles of whisky (for those of you who don't understand nappy prices!), or 85 extra loaves (for the teetotalers with no kids) to your monthly shopping bill is just impossible unfortunately. So we need to find a way forward before international communications break down altogether! I guess there is Skype, but given they only have a laptop, they are unlikely to sit in their flat all day so we can ring them free on that. I can't really see Thomas on Skype to his mum. Thomas loves to pace all round the house when he's talking to her, so sitting immobile talking to the wavering image would be a big culture shock. I guess we could use email more but that doesn't really help Anna till she is about 8 or 9... Or snail mail - there's always that solution - aren't the advances in technology impressive?

BURIAL CARDIE

It's maybe something that happens to you with age but I have found over the past few years that I am less willing to put up with things I would have put up with when I was younger. (Hence the mid-life life changes amongst other things!)

I went to a funeral last December. One of Marcel's friend's fathers died suddenly in his mid-40s a couple of weeks before Xmas. Although I didn't know the man, I knew his wife and four sons, so went along. It was a humanist funeral. I had never been to a humanist funeral before. I had been to many religious funerals both Protestant and Catholic, including 3 of my 4 grandparents. You would have thought that the funeral of someone close to my heart should be more moving to me than that of a stranger, but I have never been to a more moving funeral than the humanist one and it was because I could relate to it.
I have never taken any comfort from being told about my loved one being under God's protection now, in a better place or that Jesus died for their sins. I have sat through every funeral till last December thinking and feeling it is utterly meaningless to me.
When I arrived, unsuspecting, at the crematorium last December, they were blasting out Hotel California. Interesting, I thought, but I drew much more comfort from a song I remembered my parents playing during my childhood, rather than a hymn with words I could not relate to. The speaker, a female humanist 'minister' (if that's the right word) stood up and spoke about how the couple had met, what they'd done in their life together, then she recounted each child's favourite memory of their father. Two other non-religious songs were played - one from an opera, one other pop song (I can't remember the details.) At the point where a normal religious minister would have been saying prayers, this minister told the congregation that if they were religious they could use a few minutes silence to pray, if they weren't they could feel free to use those minutes to think about the man and his family and any special memories we had of them.
Everything fell into place for me. At last I was at a funeral I could participate in. I stood their crying for a man I had never met and his 4 poor boys left fatherless at just 10, 11, 15 and 19. I cried because I could relate to thinking about a family and a missing member. I could participate. I could feel like an insider instead of some excluded weirdo for the first time in my life in that situation. I had found how I wanted my life to end. I think so many people assume a funeral (or wedding or whatever) needs to be religious because it is traditionally so, but I have always found that at the saddest times in my life, the last thing I want is to feel alien and excluded.
I went home and started to think through my funeral, hoping it wouldn't be for some time. Obviously I won't be there (except physically) so those I love could go against my wishes but they will know what my wishes are at least.
First I thought about my old cardie - I have had it forever - maybe 15 years. Every time I buy a replacement I revert to it because it is just the right weight and being cream it goes with everything - I thought I would get buried (or cremated) in my cardie (though I might change my mind now I have a new coat - photos to follow)! I would select 3 songs that mean something to me for the funeral so that when they are played those who really knew and loved me will be moved by them, knowing what I would have thought when I chose them for them to listen to. And I would ban religion from it. I don't mean I don't respect religious friends - I would have them say as they said at the funeral I mentioned that there should be time for those who do have a faith to pray to whoever they want, but I also want my non-religious friends and family to be given moments just to remember the good times, remember me at 80 in my scabby old cardie shouting at the grandchildren to smile nicely for the camera!
I got to talking about this with my dad a few weeks ago and he's been doing the same! He was considering being buried in his singing Santa tie (not sure if he's going to be wearing anything else!) and he's chosen a couple of very amusing songs and made me promise not to let mum opt for anything religious in a moment of grief and madness! I presume he'll be taking a golf club or two with him too!

THE CONTRACT

Charlotte often seems incredibly mature to me. She so good with her younger siblings I know I could leave her in charge of them for a weekend (don't worry, I know that's illegal so am not contemplating doing it in reality).
She listens to rock music. She can cook your evening meal. You can send her shopping. She does DIY like an adult. If you bring in some IKEA furniture she just gets on with building it like it was a big piece of lego.
Sometimes it is hard to remember she really is just a little kid. But when you find something lying about the floor like this contract that I found at the weekend, you smile to yourself and remember that there are still a few years of innocence ahead.

A BETTER USE

Flying saucers seen in Macclesfield!
Originally uploaded by bitrot

Thomas has been trying to convince me all week that the little sugar paper circles you get stuck on the bottom of some sweets and apparently (I don't know given it isn't somewhere I EVER find myself) in church have a taste. Strange man... I, like all Scots, know these are meant to be dyed blue and stuck together with sherbet in the middle - then they are positively YUMMY!

IT'S FUNNY WHAT PEOPLE SEE

 Anna in her winter suit Originally uploaded by PhylB

It was very cold on Hogmanay. Anna's pink snowsuit was upstairs and I was in a rush to go out to ASDA. Pudge's blue tartan snowsuit was hanging on the coat-stand in the hall. Given it is a cosy blue tartan coat for a 12 month old, I stuck Anna in it, put on her hat and gloves and went shopping. I was pushing her through Marks and Spencer food department when a woman said to me as I passed: What a smiley little boy you have there! I presume she was assuming Anna was a boy because I had coloured coded her in blue. But interestingly she was wearing a bright pink hat and gloves, thus also coloured-coded as a girl. Is it the percentage of her body covered by blue compared to pink that led to the boy assumption, or is it that coats are more obviously a specific sex than hats, or are people just plain weird? Both my girls have happily worn this cosy blue suit in the winter without complaining to me once!

PROOF OF REINCARNATION

Anyone who knew my old Gramps will see a bit of a family resemblance in this most recent photo of Anna. He often looked a bit like this on New Year's Eve himself if I remember correctly. All we need now is for her to burst into I belong to Glasgow or call me Hen and I'll know there's something to be said for the reincarnation theory.