another year gone - really?

So this post was supposed to be posted last night but for some reason (probably finger trouble) it wasn't but since it's still officially New Years Day here in the UK I guess it's still ok.

Do my hands look big in this?

When I was a child, the time between birthdays and Christmases was endless, way longer than twelve months it seemed. Now the years fly past in a blur. A whole year seems to be the same length of time as the school summer holiday. I barely have time to pack away the decorations before they are being taken out the loft again. So before I find myself out shopping for Easter eggs I will wish you all a

Happy and Healthy New Year.

If you do nothing else next year, do something you've always wanted to do but haven't for whatever reason and laugh as much as possible.

Warning! - Keep Away.

T'was Christmas Eve and not a soul was stirring....

Apart from Mum, Dad, Big dude, two dogs, a hamster and a newt.

And a small frail boy with a very high temperature and a cough that a Woodbine smoking Scouse docker would be proud of.

Fortunately the temperature went but not a chance of the cough checking out of Hotel Little Dude.

A whole week of hacking and coughing has passed not to mention a few bottles of Buttercup Syrup.

Two days ago I got a sore throat - one of those 'I think I may have swallowed a broken glass' throats. Great! Yesterday the throat wasn't too bad (plenty of Tea Tree gargles saw that one off). Today this is what I have been doing..

Yep, I feel like my body is turning itself inside out every time I cough. Buttercup Syrup is a no hoper (although I love the taste of it - can you overdose on Buttercup Syrup by the way?).

We had guests around this afternoon. As I opened the door I said "I wont get too close as I have a nasty cough.." the response was "hack, hack, cough, sniff, splutter, hack". Great.

Of course this is all the fault of Big Dude who has had a nasty cough for several weeks now that antibiotics can't shift. Although saying that, I'm not sure how he could have passed it on to us as he rarely graces us with his presence these days.

Pity people don't follow the etiquette of coughing and sneezing as shown on this poster. Of course I have spent years telling my boys not to wipe their snotty noses on their sleeves. It is apparently more than acceptable to walk around with snot-a-dangling from your clothing when affected by a cold.

Hubby hasn't succumbed yet, but as he will never let me have an ailment alone, I'm expecting an imminent announcement of "I think I'm getting your cold" followed by a week of near fatal man flu. If it was "my cold" he would still be doing the chores and running around after everyone not laid up on the sofa with a Lemsip and fleecy throw.

I think I will just put a big red cross on the front door until we all recover and spring comes.

Heavy Snow

Far away on the other side of the globe my bloggy friend Merinz has just posted photographs of her Hydrangea in full bloom in the sunshine of New Zealand. I said I would take a photo of mine in comparison. Here it is. Pitiful isn't it?

For the last three weeks the poor thing has been struggling with the weight of several inches of snow. It has started to thaw a little now and this is what emerged. Er, was I supposed to dead head it a while ago? (Merinz?)

It wasn't just the hydrangea that has suffered. My fantastic bay tree - rescued from certain death by compost heap at a local garden centre about 1o years ago. No longer the round shapely lady - more lopsided and a bit flat up top.

However, my little chinese dog that sits patiently beside my bench ready to prop open the conservatory door when required looks rather dashing with his new hat don't you think?

A Cratchetty Christmas

So here I am sitting on the sofa feeling lethargic, bloated and in the words of my Grandad, not sure if I want a shit, shave or a haircut! A typical Christmas Day evening.

Last night I had plans for a fun filled Christmas Eve with the family. A trip to buy the pre ordered turkey followed by lunch at a local village pub with a big open fire and yummy grub and then a trip to the pictures to see one of the new films. All scuppered by an 8 year old with a temperature of 39.6. Poor Little Dude was well poorly and barely woke up only to have a sip of juice or to be dosed with Calpol.

He woke us at 4.50am this morning asking "has he been?"

Of course there is no way an 8 year old will be fobbed off by "its too early - go back to bed for a couple of hours" on Christmas morning, so we struggled out from under our cosy duvets and opened our presents. An hour later he was asleep under a blanket on the sofa while we were wide awake.

Fortunately he has improved as the day has passed, a few mouthfuls of lunch, a sleep, a couple of chocolates, a short nap, and a whole mini box of Lindor truffles! He is now almost back to normal - I can tell because he is now playing with his presents and annoying his brother.

I have only had to tidy up his pile three times today. You know the piles you make with everyone's presents? I can't bear them to be scattered over the floor. If I tidy up the piles once on Christmas Day I tidy them a million times (usually) today it was three - probably going to be four.

I have watched five different versions of A Christmas Carol in the last few days - the Dr Who version being the latest. I've also seen it in 3D, 2D, black and white touched up and with Muppets. I think I know it word for word now. I have yet to watch Polar Express (my favourite) and The Grinch (my second favourite).

Hubby has just asked me if I want a turkey sandwich. Do I? Not really but I will anyway and have another glass of Baileys and maybe even a couple of his chocolates ( I didn't get a single piece of chocolate this year!!!!!) When I say don't buy me chocolates, I don't really mean it!

It's been an odd one this year. Normally there are in laws over from Lancashire en masse but they didn't want to travel in the snow so leaving us with the task of last minute Christmas Lunch preparations for MIL/FIL. We had lunch at ours not at MIL/FIL's as we have every year since the dawn of time.

It will probably be the last time we have MIL home for Christmas as she isn't too good at the moment and can't see FIL being able to care for her at home much longer and that has been at the back of our minds too.

Anyway, all that's left is to wish each and every one of you a wonderful Christmas and New Year.

And please spare a moment to think of those serving their country and unable to be at home with loved ones today.

What's Missing This Christmas?

Last week I went along to Little Dudes Christmas 'Performance' at his school. As this is a school with a 'Christian ethos' I wondered why they didn't just do the old fashioned thing and call it a nativity play. I still don't understand why we have to be embarrassed to call it that. Every school 'performance' I've been to over the years have had the nativity as its focus embedded amongst other bits of light entertainment.

Anyway, this year Little Dude was a shepherd and had one line to deliver. "but how will we know it's Him?"

I had a nasty flashback to my own 'nativity' performance many moons ago as I prepared his outfit and practiced his line with him. My Mum was responsible for scarring me for life over this event. I was also a shepherd and if I remember rightly also had to say just one line, something like "look yonder, a bright shining star".

Mum wasn't always the best at dressing me up, and I suppose like me, often left things to the last minute and then grabbed whatever was at hand. Maybe the morning of my nativity play she had used up all the striped tea towels and had nothing else suitable to wrap around my head. Then rummaged in the airing cupboard and came out with an old grey nappy.

Probably a floorcloth in waiting!

I was sent off to school to experience the first performance of my life on stage in front of a load of people and I had to wear an old grey nappy on my head. Even at the tender age of six, I remember being mortified. Thanks Mum!

There was no way on earth that my son would have to live through that, so I managed to rustle together a suitable shepherd outfit complete with co-ordinating striped tea towel. This picture is the only one I took as they were on and off the stage in a flash. LD is in the middle of this bunch.

I really enjoyed the 'performance'. It was one of the best I've seen. It was a joint effort of a very talented music teacher and group of staff who spent hours making sure it all fitted together - bearing in mind a whole week of rehearsals had to be cancelled due to snow and school closure.

The title was 'Put Christ Back in to Christmas' and included local market scenes, a tardis, Professor Balthazar and the usual scattering of angels, wise men, shepherds and parents to be. The songs were foot tappingly good and were accompanied by various 'musicians' who tried very hard to stay in tune. Although I have to say, one of the trumpet players was either tone deaf or had stood in for someone off sick!

The final song was Away in A Manger - one of my favourite carols and brought a lump to my throat as all the children sang so beautifully.

I have to say, I did go away wishing that everything was less commercial and more traditional. How can we be more traditional though when we are forced to remove the 'nativity' from Christmas, call it 'the holidays' and spend a small fortune on plastic crap and glitter just to be seen to be good parents.

Oh well, the clock is ticking and I still have lots of presents to buy.

Sleeping

At half past six this morning we were woken by the sound of size 2 child feet padding to the bathroom, the door slamming shut, the toilet flushing and then a loud voice....

"Daaa-aaad! Can I have ice cream for my breakfast?"

"Darling, it's only six thirty and it's Sunday. Why don't you go back to bed and have a lie in?"

"Because Dad, I don't even know how to have a lie in. Now can I have some ice cream?"

Up Yours Miss Bingham

Back in 1980 I remember being told that I wouldn't be able to move up to sixth form at Clitheroe Royal Grammar School for Girls due to poor O level results and a lack of commitment to studying (she meant I spent too many hours looking out the window at the sports field I think) . To be honest I didn't really want to stay at school but asked the question anyway because it was what you did at this kind of school. So I resigned myself to being one of the 'failures' and went off into the big wide world and had a great time regardless.

Stupid I know, but the fact that I wasn't seen to be academic has stayed with me all my life. I now know that I'm one of these practical people who don't respond well to listening to lectures or reading a mountain of text. In fact my attention span in these situations is about five minutes at a push. I'm a 'do-er' not a thinker.

However, maybe I have sold myself short all these years. Over the last decade I have accumulated several qualifications in training and education in the course of my work, including a Certificate in Education and Level 4 Maths and English - but am probably now back at L2 with the maths due to the 'not relevant, not retained' rule of learning.

Yesterday when I walked on to the stage at The Stadium of Light to be given my BA in Education and Training, I so wanted to shout "Up yours Miss Bingham" and all the other teachers who thought I wasn't up to much.

I do wish hubby had noticed that my hood had slipped down before he took this photo. The bloody thing just wouldn't stay put and was the bane of my life all afternoon.

Maybe the official photograph will be better.

A Career Change?

I've learnt something this week. I've learnt that having chance to skid around a frozen runway as a young driver many years ago has made me a confident driver on icy roads. Back then I shrugged off the lecture and half heartedly agreed to be shown how to drive in snowy conditions. "You'll be glad of it one day" he said.

I've spent a large part of this week crawling along at a snails pace on frozen, snowy roads. I've watched crazy people hurtle out of junctions, speed round corners and end up in the ditch. I've seen cautious drivers pull in front of faster drivers and almost cause a pile up. I've watched people drive with a small circle of windscreen to peer through and then seen them have to pull over as the snow on the roof slid over the windscreen obscuring their view. I've watched idiots chat away on their phones in the fast lane of an icy dual carriageway and white van men with the impression that icy conditions don't apply to them.

And being the perfect driver like what I am, I have spent a lot of energy voicing my disgust at their lack of consideration for other people's lives.

I have also realised that I could be like Lisa.......
See? I even have the right kind of anorak!

Yes, I think I have the right credentials to become an IRT - to those of you unfamiliar with the TV programme, that's Ice Road Trucker! I think I am calm and confident enough to drive a truck across the millimetre thick ice of the Arctic Circle. Hell Yeah. If I can do it in a Citroen C3 I can do it with a truck! Watch this space.