Category Archives: kids

Flop, flump, sigh, fart

Lying in my bed the other night trying to get a bit of shut eye, and failing dismally I might add, I was struck by how much noise and activity there is in our bedroom.

Stop it!! You have such a rude mind! That isn’t what I meant at all. Wash your mind out!

Moving on…

The dog regularly sighs and walks round the room before flopping down with another huge sigh, sometimes stopping for a loud and slurpy drink from his bowl.  Unfortunately, I’m always on epilepsy alert and when he gets restless I’m always watching out for signs of an impending fit. Last night he did one of his nightly rounds of the bedroom and then flopped down on the floor at my side of the bed with his usual massive sigh. Suddenly the most horrendous smell wafted up from the floor. I can’t even begin to describe it. Oh my God! I turned over and put my hand over my mouth and nose in a vain attempt to  keep the sickening stench from assailing my nostrils further. God. It was horrendous.

Boofuls slept on, blissfully unaware of the gas attack going on in our bedroom. As he slept he snored gently like a little lawnmower. Eventually Douggie the doggie stopped farting and flopping round the room and settled down. That was Boofuls’s cue to take the snoring up a gear.

Good Lord! It was like lying next to a pneumatic drill singing a duet with a cow! DDDDDRRRRRRRRRRRRRMOOOOOOOOOOO!!


Amazingly he did.

So did I.


What the …?

Someone forgot to tell that screeching seagull that it’s called a dawn chorus because it happens at dawn, not the middle of the bloody night.  It’s no wonder I’m always exhausted. What I wouldn’t give for a peaceful nights sleep!

Munki on the other hand…

was in the bath and Lashes was putting clothes away in the next room. As usual, the telly on and she was watching hoarders. Munki shouted for her  to turn it off as she didn’t like it, “I don’t like ghost stories,  I’ll have nightmares”. “It’s not about ghosts, its about hoarders.” ” Oh right. Are they nobs?”

Lashes, shocked and trying to keep a straight face asked her to repeat what she’d said, Munki duly obliged: “Those people, the hoarder, are they nobs?”

Poor old Lashes  was shaking with the effort of trying not to laugh.

“Where did you hear that? From Youtube?  Nob is a swear word, it means you’re and idiot, don’t say it again and don’t watch that you tube channel again.”

Munki: “How many ‘o’s does it have in it?”


” Oh. Then it’s not the same word.  I meant noob.”

Lashes collapsed on the floor laughing.

I’d forgotten how unwittingly entertaining a young child can be.

HOW cold?!

Talk about a cold and frosty morning. Waking up this morning to discover that everything had turned even whiter due to a heavy frost, I went out in the car and it’s temperature gauge kindly informed me that it’s -9 degrees this morning. -9!  We don’t get temperatures like that, it’s positively arctic!

It is a very pretty -9 though so I took some photos for you, venturing out in my dressing gown and slippers which isn’t actually as bad as it sounds because it’s a fabulous crisp and still morning which not a single breath of wind. Thank God for that. Can you imaging how cold it would be if it was windy?

icy car

My poor car isn’t red any more, it’s turned white overnight.

icy sunrise

The sunrise was pretty.

a bit misty

Up our track it was a bit misty – and very, very icy. Boofuls managed to get his car out this morning for the first time in a week. I don’t know how because it’s solid ice up there.

Lashes, Len and Baby Bunting came up last night to see us. It’s inevitable, I know  that babies grow up but why do they have to do it so quickly?  Baby’s language skills are improving by the day and her version of certain  words she uses which have made me laugh so much  she’s finally learning to say properly. Scubees for instance. Any ideas what scubees might be?  No, it took me  awhile to work it out as well, it’s Baby speak for strawberries.  She’s getting the hang of it now and it’s evolved into strawbees.  Gangand, I noticed yetserday has evolved into grangrand and my all time favourite, anit (which is ‘elephant’ to you and me) is now a very recognisable, eyifant.  Just stay a baby a little while longer, I’m not ready for you to grow up yet.

Did I mention we got a call from the estate agent saying some people wanted to view our house – the next day?  That’s after the phone call saying, “Nothing will happen now till next year now. The market is completely dead and ‘specially for property like yours.’ Gee, thanks.

I took the call during a photo shoot and after a bit of to-ing and fro-ing the appointment was made. I’m glad it was so quick because the gardens are disgusting and in need of a lot of tlc,  at the moment they are all covered in snow so they look gorgeous. Ah, there’s nothing like covering up everything you don’t want on show  under a nice big blanket.

Anyway, they came, they saw, the like. He’s a farrier and since we are bang in the epicentre of equestrian Lancashire it seems like a good place for them. They also have five horses so our nice big field would be handy.  Fingers crossed. the words of that medium I went to see keep ringing in my ears: “You’ll move just before or just after Christmas.” Coincidence?

The smug, ‘I’m all ready for Christmas’ look was wiped off my face last night as I wrapped up the pressies. There a a few glaringly large holes that need plugging before I can really say I’m finished so it’s back to the shops for me, I’m afraid. Dagnabbit, I was so pleased with myself.

The pre Christmas workload keeps on increasing for me, Last night I picked up another job where they want the photos for Christmas presents and reprint orders keep on arriving. I’m not complaining but I could just have done with it being spread out a bit more.  The biggest issue is getting people back to  view at their proofs;

” Oh, I can come anytime love. Whenever suits you.”

“What about Tuesday evening?”

“No, I’m working 12 hour days all week so I can’t come till next weekend.”

*Thinks* So not ‘anytime’ at all then. “How about next Saturday then?”

There’s nowt so queer as folk.

Catch 22

P & G have monumental colds. Both as white as sheets, they have wheezed, coughed, sneezed and sniffled their way through the last couple of days, clutching on to each other just in order  to remain relatively upright. I say relatively because they look like a pair of stepladders, leaning in to each other.

As part of my motherly duties I bought, whisky, honey and lemons for P & G.  When I returned the kids to their rightful home this afternoon P & G were  both sipping away at their remedial hot toddies. 

As part of my grandmotherly duties I took the kids and dog out for the afternoon so P & G could get some kip.  I love half term. We sledged on our top field for a couple of hours and then came in to play on the Wii. I have photos, I’ll post them tomorrow.

I offered to take the kids to their dance class in the morning, working on the basis that if the whisky toddy clears up their colds they still won’t be in a fit state to leave the house because they’ll  have the hangover to deal with.

Catch 22.

I’ll accept my medal any time you’re ready, folks.


The Southport Firework Competition was  fab!  Seriously, I could become a firework groupie and travel all all the place to see firework displays.

Our somewhat depleted group of 5 (loooooong story) trotted off to Southport nice and early to spend the afternoon there before the competition started.  At the appointed time we waved our tickets at the very burly and surly security chappie and made our way to the disabled area to find a good spot for Liv to be able to see what was going on.  The disabled area was chock full  of wheelchairs and there wasn’t a great deal of advantage to being in there but we managed to find a nice little spot right next to the portaloo (very handy – it was a bloody cold night, after all).

Eleanor was a bit grumpy and I was worried how she’d cope with the noise of the fireworks. She shocked us all by coping with it by going straight to sleep!  It was seriously noisy but even the finale didn’t wake her, all she did was jump a bit and flap her arms for a second before nuzzling back down into her blanket. That’s one tough baby!

There were three displays, we all agreed that the second display was slightly more slick than the first, the music and the fireworks were synchronised perfectly.   My view was that the start of the display was a bit meandering and it took a little while to get going but I was quickly out voted.  The third display was, oh dear, probably not the winner.  They suffered technical difficulties and were late starting and the choice of music was on a cowboy theme, most of which was lost on the kids who just thought it was odd.

The traffic jam getting out of Southport was monumental, it took us half an hour to travel half a mile.  I’m so glad the baby was asleep!

Today dawned bright and sunny again so I took E for a stroll round the park with the other members of Granny Squadron.   The trouble is that now I’ve been doing the Wednesday walk since early summer, I don’t stroll any more, I yomp.  We went awol halfway round and left the ‘granny circuit’ to walk up the hill to Pleasington Priory.  If we ever sell our house (any offers, anyone?) I’d like to live up there, not actually in the Priory, just near it will do.

While we were walking we saw my walk leader taking some middle aged women on a bike ride. True to form he took them straight up the nearest hill.  Heeheeheee, I overtook them twice as they had to keep stopping for breath.  Obviously my fitness levels have improved tremendously as the hill proved to be no trouble at all to me (wearing my smug face now).

Some seriously bad timing on my part meant that I was driving out of the park just as the local high school was kicking out. They clearly have a gap in their education as they don’t seem to understand how a pedestrian crossing works.  When you see a red man, don’t cross. There, that isn’t hard is it?  Apparently it is. Hordes of spotty teenagers swarmed lemmings like across the road paying no attention at all as cars hurtled towards to them, only slowing slightly as they knew that if they stopped they would be overwhelmed by lemmings –  er, I mean kids.

Later this afternoon Liv was showing me the new salsa step she learned on Saturday and I showed her the new hoppy, charlestony, kicky bit we learned in the quickstep.  She wanted to try it so I showed her how to kick between my feet while I jumped and then to do the opposite.  She assured me she understood, muttering, ‘kick then jump’ to herself. Off we went and Liv then  delivered the highest of high kicks, right into my nether regions. All I can say is thank God I’m not a man, I’d be talking in a falsetto voice by now!  Squeak.