Shock horror - I'm actually growing something!!!!!! (no nothing nasty, illegal or otherwise). Mint. I'm growing mint...quite successfully (see pic to illustrate my newly found green fingers!).
Now 'those in the know' reassure me that it's actually quite difficult to kill Mint...most have warned me about the perils of putting it in my garden but to be honest, I'd be glad if something grew in my garden!
We all know I'm not a gardener, which is why I'm SO impressed with growing Mint on the kitchen windowsill. These are the things I've realised I can do with Mint.
- Pick off the leaves (bottom ones not newly sprouting top ones (thanks Husband!)) and pour boiling water over for refreshing drink whilst feeling smug at having grown own tea
- Pick off the leaves, chop finely and add to salads and lamb casseroles, whilst feeling smug at having grown own salad and casserole herbs
- Pick off the leaves and offer to dogs for much fresher breath (whilst feeling smug at having grown own doggie-dental care product)
Impressed?????
A big thanks for everyone who has called and e-mailed about the welfare of The Husbands parents who live in Maderia. It has been a terrifying experience but they are safe, well and now have food. I'm sure everyone has seen the pictures all over the world news, but here are a few they sent me today...just incredible!
We've been in this car park whilst over in Madeira and The Husbands parents probably use it all the time too...well they used to.
I just have no idea how they are going to get these cars out!
Imagine if this was your car? Our thoughts are with everyone in Madeira.
Needless to say I was wrong.
Meet Dave. A hoover. A robot hoover actually. For some wives, this might have meant 'dinner in the dog' or 'you'll find your pillow in the spare bedroom' but not this one, strangely enough, I was highly excited! NO MORE HOOVERING! Actually...to be fair, I haven't hoovered much in the last 6 months due to whiplash from a car crash in June last year – so perhaps I should re-phrase that 'MUM....NO MORE HOOVERING!' My lovely mum (ok and on occasion The Husband) have been hoovering so I don't have to. Well no-one has to do it now!
We decided on a name...Dave...a good solid hoover-type name we thought. We charged him up, set him off and watched as he picked up all the bits from the floor. He really works!
He backs out of his little home (rechargeable base) flashes a bit and spins (no doubt to get his bearings) then sets off in a straight line – hoovering as he goes until he hits a wall (or a table leg or the dog) then he spins round and goes in another direction. You'd think with such random movements that he'd miss bits, but no – he's actually quite house proud! The best bit is, that when he's finished, he locates his little home (rechargeable base) and puts himself back on charge, how cool is he?
What did the dogs make of it? Well, Grayson jumped on him the first time he spun round (clearly feeling threatened), William just backed off (with some speed) and hid behind The Husband. As for me and The Husband, we stood watching him...and watching him...and picking up bits of fluff to put in his way saying things like 'Gosh he picked that up!' and 'Oh maybe he'll get it next time!'...'Yep there he is, he got it!'.
The point of the robotic hoover completely missed. 'Surely we're meant to do something else with our time while Dave hoovers, isn't that the plan?' I said to The Husband, arms folded, head cocked to one side, stooping a little to get a good view of the fluff I'd just put in Dave's way. 'Yeah...that's the plan' replied The Husband, crouched down, collecting granules of mud the dogs had brought in from the garden ready to test Dave's suction.
That was then though and this is now. Now? Oh we're masters of Dave now, we trust him implicitly, we go out and leave him on, in the safe knowledge that chores are being done in our absence and that he'll shout if he needs anything (that's what the brochure said). Then shock of all shocks, Dave spoke. Dave is NOT a bloke! Dave is a girl! Dave's girly voice told us that his err her brushes needed cleaning.
Out came the brushes (along with the manual) brushes duly cleaned off he err she went off again but unfortunately he err she seemed stuck on a cycle of 'please remove and clean brushes', so we called Lakeland who very kindly offered to send a new one out.
Replace Dave? I wasn't sure I was happy with that. I'd built up a relationship with Dave, could Dave 2 really replace him? We decided no. So now...we have Davina! She arrived today and when The Husband gets home we shall unpack her together, show her to her new docking point (under the unit in the lounge) and look forward to many more hours of watching what she picks up.
Rock on Davina!
Some pics to share with you for the new year!
A snow-armchair!
A life-sized snowman with The Husband and the puppies
This is where we usually teach our Coaching Diploma...but have cancelled due to extreme weather!
Puppies practically swimming in the snow, all appointments suspended til further notice so I have the boring job of staying home...in the warm...with plenty of tea...and a Baileys in the evening...cuddling two puppies...in front of the telly. Poor me!
As most of my blog followers will remember, having 'the puppies' (ok now 2 years old and looking far from puppish but they'll always be puppies to me) means that Christmas and anything to do with Christmas in our household has to be six foot above ground level. The Husband did look at me (finger tapping pursed lips) with a far away look in his eyes that said, 'We've never actually tried having a Christmas tree at ground level - we don't know they'll rip it to shreds'.
So my look back (hands on hips, head cocked to one side, eyebrows askew!) said 'You're having a laugh right? We can't even leave the sofa cushions on the sofa's when we go out!' (we learned to take them up and pile them on the dining room table when we came home once to find they'd ripped a zip out of one cushion, torn the piping off another and ripped all the fluff out of their own bed just for good measure).
So...Christmas on high it is again. Except this year, we have taken a huge leap of faith and have actually bought a Christmas tree - it's 5 foot off the floor and hangs from the beams - here it is;
It's an upside down Christmas Tree with not feet on the end but a hook!
How cool is this!
Ah...bless...we built 14 foot high ceilings in our house so we could have the mother of all Christmas trees but once the puppies arrived I didn't ever expect to see a Christmas tree in it ever again! But here it is.
As for the puppies - they look like butter would melt don't they? Happy Christmas everyone - see you next year!
Ok, now this is a slightly personal blog. Look away now if you're uncomfortable with 'toilet-talk'!
Still looking? Then I'll proceed. The Shewee. (See pic!) Now I've been following this company for years, ever since I saw the founder Samantha Fountain on Dragons Den.
For those of you who haven't already guessed, it's a plastic shaped product that means us girls no longer have to be so choosey about where to wee in public - hence the name Shewee! It's only £6 so WHY it's taken me so long to actually get on-line and buy the thing I'll have no idea. But for the last 5 years at least every time I've been abroad and have had to deal with really nasty loos or when I've been at a railway station or worse on a train I've battled with 'Can I hold it?' versus 'Bloody hell, I've just got to go!'
For you guys out there, it just isn't funny when you've got to take down layers of clothing and deal with cramped toilet cubicles and very, very unhygenic conditions. But my very first Shewee ladies and gentlemen arrived this morning. I have to tell you, my first experience, in the privacy of my own bathroom at home has been nothing short of hilarious! My first experience of wee'ing like a bloke! haha
For those of you who need a little more technical detail - here's a diagram from Shewee's website to help. THE best invention ever I have to tell you and once you get used to not sitting, and holding it exactly where you want it - it's amazing.
When I think of all those fields when The Husband and I have been walking the dogs where he's conveniently nipped behind a bush! Well he won't be so smug now will he I'll just whip out my Shewee!
I tell you what...I've already bought another one for a friend and I think a few more will be on my christmas list. Seriously girls...check these out, this is coming EVERYWHERE with me!
Ah, The Husband and I got married 5 years ago today;
Just like today, it rained but it was absolutely the most incredible day and the only difference between then and now is that we're both working today! Happy Anniversary Husband...still lookin' good!
Very quickly they formed a strong bond and wrote pages, telling each other about their lives and families. They become close confidants as they grew up into their teenage years and 20's. By 23 though, our previously shy girl had turned into a beautiful woman and was engaged to be married. 'I can't write to you any more, I'm getting married', she explained, 'It's simply not the done thing' (well, it was the 1960's!). Sadly their correspondence stopped and each moved on with their lives, having never met or spoken ever before.
One day, many years later, our 13 year old boy, now in his mid 30's with a wife, children of his own and living in another far away land, Australia, decided to try and find his long lost pen pal. After all those years of not knowing where she was, he hadn't forgotten her and remembered her often. He sent a letter to her previous address but alas her family had moved long ago.
The man who received that letter though looked at it long and hard. 'Wasn't it addressed to the Auntie of one of the teenagers who caught his bus sometimes?' he pondered. He carried that letter around with him for weeks until, quite by chance, he met the teenager at the bus stop. The teenager thanked the man for the letter, agreed that yes it was his Auntie and that he'd pass it on.
Well...teenagers are teenagers, and it took some time for the letter to actually fall into the right persons hands, but when it did, it was opened by a woman in shock! All these years had gone by! Her pen pal still remembered her! She read it over and over, he told her all about his wife and children and their home in Australia. By this time, it's the 1980's and she was married to her second husband, who far from being the jealous type, was amazed and delighted to reunite his wife and her long lost pen pal.
They called Australia, and for the first time, the pen pals heard each others voices over the phone. Within months, a trip was being organised, from England to Australia. For Janette, her husband John and their two children, Lynette and Craig. It was in January 1982 and at Sydney airport in Australia the pen pals finally met. Sal introduced his wife Liz and their children Tracy and Jonathan. Two families united at last, they spent three glorious months together, the other side of the world.
From then on, they called, they wrote and when e-mails were new, they emailed, determined that they'd always be in touch. They were even lucky enough to enjoy a fleeting visit from Sal when he was on business in England almost 17 years later!
You might have guessed by now, that that shy little girl Janette, was my mum and this weekend my brother Craig, and I, were beside ourselves with excitement as we sprang THE biggest surprise ever on our mum. After spinning a web of lies and untruths, after over explaining complicated reasons why she should be at a certain place at a certain time, my mum, now in her 60's walked into a seemingly perfectly innocent restaurant to be greeted by yours truly – not so perfectly innocent. As she went to sit down, I suggested she may want to say hello to the people across the bar. Very slowly, a look of recognition spread across her face, followed by a look of...well, see below and make up your own mind what she was thinking as there, right in front of her were Liz who she hadn't seen for over 27 years and Sal who she hadn't seen for a decade!
I have to say that one cannot possibly describe the elation my brother and I felt at being able to surprise our mum like that or the pleasure in watching all three of them laugh and talk and catch up all evening long.
Neither can I put into words the level of excitement that this 30 something endured! Minute by minute was painstakingly accounted for in the lead up to the big surprise and I never, ever want to be THAT stressed ever again! Not that I will...because my poor mum won't ever believe anything that I tell her ever again! But that's what friends (and children) are for!
Ok, so back in May, The Husband and I were on the green near our house throwing balls for the dogs, when, with one almighty and very manly throw, The Husband threw the ball for Grayson with such vigour that he sent it right up onto an Oak tree and it settled firmly between two branches.
Mmm.
We all stood there staring at the top of the tree...Grayson included.
Following one of my You idiot! stares at The Husband, he tried everything...shaking branches, throwing the other ball up at the stuck ball to get it down Yep only a man! until I turned around to see an elderly gentleman walking across the green with a concerned look and a ladder. No need though...for now The Husband was shimmying up the tree and reaching out to the branch in question! Following another You idiot! stare from yours truly I had to look away, it was all too scary.
He did it though...dislodged said ball and Grayson pacified I walked off with the boys to continue trying to wear them out, while The Husband stood with the elderley gentleman discussing the issues surrounding oak trees and balls...then dog owners who don't pick up their doggy poo...then praising us because we do (bless him!). Then he said 'You're the ones who drive that little car aren't you?' (by 'little car' he meant The Bug...lime yellow Citreon C1 with two black stripes over the top of it...don't ask...we only went into Citreon for a service and came out with The Bug but that's another story).
Anyway, turns out he wants to buy it from us. It's his wife's dream car apparently! We politely declined.
Well from that day on, it seemed everywhere I went, I saw this elderly gentleman and each time I saw him, he asked to buy the car. So long story short, I sold it to him when The Husband was at golf one day! Off he drove, pleased as punch with his new purchase, pulling away from our house just as The Husband was pulling up behind him. 'Where's he going with our car?' he asked open mouthed and in shock. 'Well, technically it's not our car anymore...I'll make you a cup of tea and explain all' said I wincing as I turned back into the house.
He was calmer than I thought he'd be to be fair, especially when we saw thousands of pounds in cash on the worktop! We decided, very sensibly, to see if we could manage with one car. Afterall, I work from home and The Husband works precisely 3 miles up the road - how hard can it be?
Harder than you think as it turns out and within days, I was being frogmarched around car show rooms for another car. We settled on one. Very beautiful. Very sweet. Very retro. An little Italian Fiat 500! 3 MONTH WAITING LIST but never mind SHE'S HERE!
World...meet Gloria!
According to one of The Husband's customers at work, we're 'on trend!'
Oh good...always like to be 'on trend'!
Board games. Never been one for them myself. I don't know why but the slightest hint of them at a dinner party used to send me home speedily with some headache or other...that is until the over-the-road neighbours brought The Settlers of Catan into my life.
It's a game of trading, strategy, thinking ahead and secrecy – just like any business!
My problem is this...I'm hooked on it! And so is The Husband. I'm thinking up strategies in my sleep and The Husband is regularly found googling its tips and plots to win. You need 2 things to succeed at this game, a deep inherant need to win at everything (yep got that!) and the skill to think ahead of your oponents (mmm...struggled with that one a bit).
Let's just say, I was a late developer in the thinking ahead bit, I spent the first 2 months coming last every time and watching everyone else in awe, trying to work out how to win the poxy game!
Well, it seems my time has come, I won twice in a row just a few weeks ago (see smug pic below).
The first win was very well deserved I have to say, after only 90 minutes or so, I steamed ahead, plotting my way through its mine fields, carrying out those well formed secret strategies of my own and before I knew it that bright shiny silver cup was in my hands (oh god yes we have a trophy!) and so I was crowned the new Lordess of Catan.
The second win, I'll admit was only slightly under hand – all was going swimmingly until our friend (and previous multi-winner) Xio was all set to swipe the cup when The Husband (fuelled by steely determination that one of the 'Chambers' (that'll be us) was going to take that damn cup home), he offered me about 50 million cards in exchange for just one of mine...in short...one big Catan-Gate affair broke out and the game was sewn nicely up by yours truly. We've since been informed that we broke pretty much every rule of Catan there was (ooops!) but the cup still remained firmly at the 'House of Chambers' for 2 weeks until Xio had a chance to steal it off me last week – you can blame her!
Anyway, Catan is just business and friendship remains fast it seems...popping over the road this evening came Darren to present me with a little something they found on the net...
Pink Catan pieces!!!!!!!!!!!! My very own Pink Catan pieces!!!!! How cool are they? Brand management, brand management!!!!
If you're a dog lover you might understand this.
You make a fuss of a dog on the sofa as you walk past, you take his head on both your hands and rummage round his ears as he leans into you loving the attention. You notice a knot under one ear...you examine further...look for a knot under the other ear...find one...nip to the dog cupboard and get the scissors...calm the dog who's now seen the scissors...hold dog in place with one hand whilst trying to locate knot and balance scissors in the other hand...find knot...snip it off...done.
Or at least 'done' is what the dog hopes you'll be. But something inside you says 'Well while we're here'. So you start trimming...just a bit...to neaten his ears up...then balance the other one so he's not lop sided...etc etc etc...2 hours later...2 very unimpressed puppies sporting the 'chopped' look.
Bless them, their previous sleek and shiny coat is now in the hoover and even I'm embarrassed at how bad they look.
Shame...I always wanted to be a hairdresser...it seems is not my vocation though!
A week or so ago, we introduced William and Grayson to their new neighbours - two 12 week old black labs, Hector and Doogle – don't ask me which one is which, they're pretty much identical. These are going to be working black labs, their owners, Wendy and Matt are FAR more clued up and in charge than we ever were when ours arrived, and they are so well behaved, I hoped a little of their charm would rub off on ours. Within seconds of arriving at their house, mine had found their pond – complete with Koi Carp...eeek and shortly after that, were heard running around the bedrooms like a herd of baby elephants, closely followed by me apologising profusely to Wendy as I disappeared, uninvited, up her stairs two at a time, in the hope of appearing calm and pack-leader-like as I ordered my two back down stairs with my sternest of faces.
Back downstairs, coffee made and things calming down nicely, one of the lab puppies sat neatly in front of my feet and stared up at me with huge black eyes – what else to do but take his tiny face in my hands and kiss him on the nose – at which point, he decided my nose was literally up for grabs and leapt up with impressive speed to grab his new toy!
You know when everyone around you giggles as you sit there with your hand to your nose, eyes watering furiously, then when you take your hand away from your face, their faces change into 'Oh god...you're bleeding', 'I'm SO sorry' (dog chastising going on), previous calm household turned into a flurry of activity, canine and human as three adults rush for loo roll...lots of loo roll. I spent the rest of the evening assuring all concerned that I was fine (which I was...apart from needing a bit of a make-up job and more loo roll!), after 40 more minutes of bleeding, Wendy insisted Matt (who works in A&E) take a closer look but in fact, it was just a case of stemming the flow!
They both felt awful and to divert attention from my bleeding nose, The Husband regaled how just that very afternoon, he'd had to extract a very painful splinter from my behind with my tweezers in the middle of the kitchen whilst he was cooking dinner (thanks for that Husband!)...clearly it wasn't my day. By the time we left, the bleeding had stopped and I'd re-assured them that I'd be back to continue the bonding process between our 4 furry children.
Last night, we did just that and held a Puppy Party. My fabulous friend of 25 years Em, popped over with Bolly (short for Bollinger), he's a beautiful, 4 year old HUGE, chocolate brown lab and Wendy and Matt brought the pups Hector and Doogle, plus ours...slightly more obedient this time in their own surroundings.
A fantastic evening of running around, rolling around the floor, chasing each other round the sofa's and generally having a ball, all the canines eventually flopped at their owners feet – no mishaps, no breakages and more importantly no blood loss...phew!
Now that's the way to spend an evening!
OK, so The Husband and I are making conversation with the over-the-road neighbours. I always find it amazing really how you can live next to or opposite someone, without ever doing more than nodding as you get in your respective cars. Passing the time of day is the next step up I guess and if you get onto the weather - well you're as good as best friends!
What I never expected to happen though when we chatted to the over-the-road neighbours is for Xio (pronounced Seo, we now know she's Costa Rican and thrilled to have neighbours who actually speak to her like they do in Costa Rica!) to mention she has Roller Blades. ROLLERBLADES!!! Who honestly has Rollerblades just hanging around in the garage if you're over the age of 12!
Well, Xio tells us in Canada where she used to live, they have special surfaces near the beach for skaters from 3 to 73 to skate - it's the 'in' thing apparently!
You may remember, The Husband and I got skates not long ago - the first outing was pretty disasterous...we forgot we lived on a hill! Having taken 20 minutes to put our skates on in the hallway, I skated around the kitchen for a few minutes (confidence builder!) my teenager years came flooding back. 'This is great!', 'I remember how to do this!' said I. We carpet skated to the front door and suddenly noticed the hill. In a second, my new-found confidence slide right down that hill to number 26 at the bottom.
The Husband was convinced this would be easy, so to avoid looking like a complete girl, I followed him precariously, gripping the wall of the house with my fingertips, The Husband navigating his way across the road to the green. The green was deemed the safest playground (it has grass!) but having fallen hard on my derriere as we turned the corner, the rest of the journey was just plain hardwork! Bruised and achy, we made it back to the house - we'd only been 10 minutes!
So when Xio mentionned with great enthusiasm that she'd love to go out with us for a skate, my mouth said yes and my body cried. A 3 minute drive to the seafront later, (Darren, Xio's partner, brought his bike...no skates - sensibly!), all 3 of us stood up precariously ready to try again. Well, I say, all 3 of us - Xio got up as if born on wheels and glided quietly off down the prom (she's done this before!).
Turns out she has good skates - like, really good skates. In comparison, ours were bargain bucket, toy plastic things that shook your entire body over each and every bump in the pavement. I caught sight of The Husband checking Xio's skates out - they had suspension and everything! Darren gave in just days later and bought the coolest pair of skates The Husband has ever seen and with skate-envy, he rushed me straight down to the same store to buy skates with suspension - cool ones, in cool colours - mine are even in my brand colours - pink and black!
So, although in previous months we were often found in the middle of a big field trying to entice two puppies back to us - nowadays we're down the prom, with our new playmates, Darren and Xio...skating! How old am I?
I'm in the kitchen. The Husband walks in looking puzzled.
'Which phone feels heaviest to you?'
I hold my hands out, close my eyes and he mixes the phones up before placing one phone on each hand.
'The left one' I say, eyes still shut, 'definitely the left one'
'That's funny, I thought it was the right one'
'Well give them here, shut your eyes'
Husband shuts eyes, wife mixes phones up and places one phone on each of Husbands outstretched hands
'Ah', (a sign that he's thinking) 'Mmmm'
'Just go by instinct- which one feels lighter' (How hard can it be?)
'Definitely the one on the left'
'Oh, that was the one on my right before – I thought the other phone was lighter'
I take the phones and move swiftly to kitchen cupboards to get the scales.
'This is a bit serious isn't it?' says The Husband, 'I didn't mean to cause a furore!'
'Well I'm interested now'
Husband retreats to lounge to retrieve my other phone. So now, we're weighing 3 mobile phones.
At that point, I did think we possibly have too much time on our hands
But then I stun myself with my ingenuity – 'Hang on, I'm taking a picture, I feel a blog coming on'
SO, in case you were wondering about the whole 'which is the lighter phone thing' – these are the phones in order of lightness – from left to right!
Famous author, renowned speaker and inspiration to thousands and this is how she spends her Saturday afternoon!
Who says you can't mix business with pleasure? Whilst baby-sitting my 20 month old neice Lily, I launched my brand new web site this evening Pink Skills
Only momentarily interrupted with a small child wanting her mummy but Auntie Net cuddles must have done the trick as we cuddled in her room and I made up a story about Princess Lily and her Auntie Net who successfully launched her brand new website...seemed to do the trick, it sent her off to sleep...only hoping it doesn't send my clients off to sleep too - that wouldn't be cool!
Is it wrong to buy a family size pack of mince pies for a friend coming this weekend and then eat them all whilst watching The Paul O'Grady Show?
Nah, I didn't think so! Well, I did leave the beautiful boots in the shop window where they belonged today!
I thought we were going to see James Bond at the pictures. I even put make up on for Daniel Craig. Just before we left the house however, The Husband changed his mind.
'I think I'd rather look at cars today!'
What? Oh you're having a laugh right? 'Really? You'd prefer cars over James Bond? James Bond has some wonderful cars in it'.
The Husband frowned.
Nope, it seemed we were off to various dealer car forecourts in the continued search for the car of our dreams – well The Husbands dreams.
Now last time we went looking for cars you might remember it didn't exactly go well. This time though, my mood is considerably improved! We do need a new car.
My criteria are;
- must have lumbar support for my dodgy back
- must have big enough boot for the dogs
The Husbands criteria are;
- must have lumbar support for wife's back (no doubt to stop me from moaning!)
- must have boot big enough for dogs (so we can go away on holiday, take the dogs with us and avoid costly telephone calls to see how the dogs are – oh yes and to stop me moaning)
- well...the boy just wants a new toy!
3 hours of garage forecourts later! I have sat in and got out of an abundance of cars/4X4's/jeeps and sports cars (the latter was purely in the name of research you understand).
The last garage we tried was the Nissan garage (the Ipswich version of the Colchester Nissan garage where I lost my will to live a few weeks ago). Unlike previous Nissan garage, these salesmen appear human, friendly and most importantly keen to leave me alone to LOOK at the cars without harassing me or mentally assessing the weight of my bank balance – ok, well they probably were mentally assessing the weight of my bank balance but they weren't obvious about it!
Precisely 40 minutes later, we'd ordered this;
The same model, we argued over 2 weeks ago!
Due date: next week sometime
Colour: sparkly grey!
As we walked out of the dealership The Husband smiled.
'What are you smiling for?'
'I knew you'd say yes to that one!'
'No you didn't....how come?'
'You stroke the cars you really like'
'I do not!'
'Oh you do'
'When did I last stroke a car'
'About 40 minutes ago, you stroked everything you really liked'
I went quiet...so I did, I remember now.
As we got in the car and pulled off the forecourt, we sat in silence for a minute before I smiled and stroked The Husband!
Can I brag a little? Please? It won't last long! For those of you who've had a bad day look away now!
I've had a GOOOOOOOD day! You know when everything just runs perfectly and slots into place, flippin heck, when it works it feels good! I have;
-whizzed through my coaching e-mails at a rate of knots
-thrown away tons of useless old papers that were cluttering up my files
-written, edited and sent out the UK Coaching Partnership newsletter
-written an article on Listening Skills for The Lunchtime Fix
-edited the second draft of my clients very first book, it's TONS better than the first draft
-bumped into an ex-client at the supermarket who's literally changed her whole life as a result of coaching - she left her husband, lost 4 stone and is re-training for a completely new career!
-shopped at above supermarket for food (we had none!)
-made homemade Mushroom and Butter Bean Soup - delish!
- ensured that The Husband got to his hair appointment on time, had time for a shower, fed him and then got him off to his Champagne Tasting this evening (that's part of his job - a terrible, awful, miserable part of his job - he assures me!)
-walked 3 dogs - twice!
Perfect huh? Smugness over...for those of you who read the blog regularly you'll know that 'perfect' cannot always be relied upon, it's just that TODAY IT HAPPENED!
I'm running a survey on how women in particular worry about being perfect and the lengths they go to to come across as perfect - perhaps you'd be kind enough to click here to answer my 4 questions? I'd so appreciate it! Thanks! Perfect!
Oh dear – the car is pink. That's a sentence I never thought I'd write! There was a time when I looked on enviously at the new KA Sports in baby pink but thank goodness it was only a phase – red is now the new pink as half my wardrobe dictates. However, that doesn't' change the fact that the car is pink.
Following last weeks disastrous events, I was determined this week would be better. The back is now much improved, the cold is gone – well given to The Husband actually but I'm not even going to start on the whole men with colds thing – I haven't got time!
As soon as my back would allow me to sit up straight for more than 10 minutes, I opened my laptop to see what I'd been missing. A busy week ahead...lots of coaching appointments, including a client trip to London and plenty of articles to write. A nice week! One meeting I was particularly looking forward to was lunch with an associate of mine.
I took the opportunity to look good, having spent the past week walking and looking like an octogenarian in a bad mood. Out came the high heels (yes I know! But I can't help it!), great outfit and a bag that hadn't seen the light of day for months.
This particular bag is gorgeous, very small but bold colours with sparkley beads etc – very now! So I filled it with the essentials – phone, money, keys and tissues (yes I was still replying on the tissues for that 'Do excuse me, I'm just getting over a cold' thing).
What I hadn't remembered, was that the last time I used the bag, I'd used it for make-up. Having parked the car outside the venue, I took out a tissue and with it came half a ton of rose sparkly blusher.
Pink dust was EVERYWHERE! All on my phone, the tissues were useless unless I wanted to undo the 'No I haven't' really got a red nose' make-up job. With little room to move in the drivers seat and aware that I didn't want pink blusher all over the seats, I carefully picked out the phone, keys and money, opened the car door and shook them all outside.
Obviously last time I used the bag the blusher had crumbled out of its container and there were large lumps of it everywhere still crumbling in the bottom. I turned the bag inside out thinking I was being really clever, wiped away the blusher with another tissue but it wasn't all gone so I walloped the bag against the car door until I was satisfied the bag was clean–ish.
Impressed that I'd cleaned myself up with not too much fuss, I put everything back in the bag and got out the car. Straightened myself up only to notice the inside and outside of the car door was a very definite girly shade of rose pink! Personally I think it's a nice touch, don't tell The Husband though eh?
The Husband made a decision. Easy on there hubby! 'Winters coming', he declared 'and I'm not spending another winter walking dogs with wet, cold feet'. It's true. Last winter was miserable. The pups were very little, they'd taken their first walks in near freezing conditions and our feet had routinely been frozen and defrosted with every walk. We feared frost bit at one time but as we still have all our toes, we think we got away with it.
'This year will be different', he stood tall, grabbed the keys and I followed. We were going shopping...in search of 'protective clothing'. Oh god thought I this could be expensive.
I'm often wary of things labelled 'waterproof' or 'extra warm'. My body has never taken much notice of such statements and they never seem to work, but when we happened upon a pair of bright pink sort of moon boot things and I tried them on, well....it was like resting my sore feet in a warm pillow of fluff! At THAT moment in THAT shop I found heaven! I stomped around a bit and decided I could walk reasonably normally in them and that we'd give them a try. My natural suspicion of anything waterproof suspended due to the deep joy of feeling warmth.
Well, they are a hit! The Husband bought a pair too and so we go out together now looking rather like we're embracing the North Pole, especially as The Husband bought a luminous yellow ski jacket too. I drew the line at that one, but you can certainly see him coming and it's been very helpful in big supermarkets as I scan the isles looking for the wanderer that is The Husband.
Anyway, I digress, this morning, been out with pups flinging – they ran a fair few miles, we stood in the middle of big large green in our his'n'hers waterproof, extra warm moon boot things and life's a peach. Until I noticed it – it being the smell.
All dog owners have a natural instinct for this particular smell, your senses adapt to it when you first get a puppy. Any dog owner can sniff a whiff and pin point its exact location with the expertise of those heat detectors that police use when looking for criminals from helicopters on dark nights. Yup, poo! Too late, I've trodden in it and consequently it's all around the house.
There is nothing worse than poo being trapsed through your house and not only that but somebody else's dogs poo – that's so much worse. They say that mums will do anything for their babies and think nothing of changing teething nappies but the thought of changing another childs nappy becomes suddenly quite overwhelming. It's the same in doggy world with poo.
At home I'm fastidious about it and no sooner have they done the deed in the garden than I'm out there in all weathers, all times of the day and night, poo bag in hand for fear that they run in it and bring it in. The Husband once caught me in my pink dressing gown with nothing on underneath and my equally pink wellies clearing up poo and even admitted that I looked quite hot!
Poo has featured quite heavily in our lives as it happens. There was the time Georgie was doing the business by the road side, us stood there patiently til he'd finished before responsibly whipping out a freezer bag and clearing up the offending mess.
A woman had passed us in her car and pulled over about 100 yards up the road. I watched her as she watched us. 'I think we're being watched' said I slowly, she was actually watching that we were picking up the poo! The Husband waved the poo bag around in the air, worried that her mirror might not have caught all the action. She did a 3 point turn there and then to challenge the wave 'oh know...poo rage...I don't believe it, you've started a poo rage situation, I bet she's got a knife', I snapped.
I grabbed the Georgie's lead from The Husband and held Georgie protectively close (The Husband I concluded could fend for himself). She wound down the window. Face like thunder, she looked like she'd chewed on a wasp. 'I hope you're clearing that up, some of us have to live around here you know!' and with that, she put her foot to the floor and sped off like some kind of juvenile on a Saturday night.
'Where do you think WE live' shouted The Husband incensed at her comment, again waving the poo in the air like some sort of demented teenager. The woman then did another 3 point turn to continue her journey, clearly having impressed herself that she'd challenged the poo offenders. She was just coming up to us again, foot still to the floor when the Husband lept out into the road to continue the conversation. Oh god – he's up for debate! Still waving poo around desperately, he actually wanted to assure her strongly that we agree, that there is too much poo on the ground that disreputable dog owners leave and that we're one of the responsible lot.
Clearly terrified though that she'd caused a disturbance in her otherwise crime-free suburban neighbourhood, she shut her eyes as she sped passed like something out of dukes of hazard movie narrowly missing The Husband. Disturbance over, we walked home in silence, The Husband tutting occasionally.
For now, this poo situation isn't quite so dramatic but before I've even been able to START thinking about opening my laptop this morning, I've cleared up poo, washed carpets, thrown towels away, wiped down soggy puppies, walked Georgie, fed them all, cleared up more poo from the garden and finally cleaned up the pink moon boots – which by the way have unusually deep grooves underfoot!
I saw this on Working Mum on The Verge and instantly thought 'that's how I felt yesterday morning when I couldn't decide what to wear to meet my publisher in London!'
The Husband left early yesterday for a management meeting and the M&FIL had a lay-in which gave me plenty of time to scoot round the house tidying, cleaning up, removing various clutter mountains from around the house and generally enjoying becoming the queen of clean.
'Plenty of time' I kept chanting, 'Plenty of time' I repeated as I cleaned the en-suite. Until I realise that I DID have plenty of time about 2 hours ago - where THAT time went I have no idea! Whilst trying not to adopt my 'Bugger, I'm going to be late' face, I found myself throwing clothes around the bedroom in a bid to transform myself from hostess with the mostest to author of the year. I tried on 3 outfits including the Zara number that the FIL chose for me abroad but 5 laps of the bedroom and I realised I was pulling at the polo-neck for air - Not quite cold enough for that one...damn what now?!
All change! Including handbag, tights and shoes...'Plenty of time' I chant 'Plenty of time'! You see Husband? That's how the clothes mountains appear!
I'm worn out – again! And I know that I've got another day ahead of me today. You're probably wondering is it work? Hell know that invigorates me! The M&FIL coming over to stay? (they arrived yesterday for the week – simply a delight to have around the place and they come bearing gifts from Zara so definitely not them) Puppies? You might smile Damn right it's the puppies!
We have a problem. They're fit! Very fit! So fit in fact that we can't wear them out. When we got these two, I decided that we were going to give them tons of exercise, well I was advised not only by Cesar Milan (the god of the doggie world) but Mel across the road. Exercise they assured us would have them so shattered at home that they wouldn't be bothered to play up.
So against my will, I had to overcome some personal struggles. Letting them off the lead was one of them. I used to hyperventilate at the very thought – now? It's comfortable, exciting even to see them run at full pelt to chase each other. We run them, The Husband proudly worked out between 2-4 miles a day. This is full pelt running by the way. But they're getting fitter and it's now harder to wear them out – in the process I'm getting worn out – by 9am yesterday morning I was on my 4th walk! (The pups got one, then the Porge – different speeds you see – then the pups, then The Porge)
All suggestions for wearing 2 fit working cocker spaniels out welcome!
And before you consider your answers – read below;
The arrival of these two wasn't plain sailing. For one, I didn't want them and on a scale of 1-10, I didn't want them a whole big MINUS 10. The Husband did want them though, 10 out of 10 on the same scale. After a whole weekend of 'talking' it through I basically gave in. He went back to work happy and content with his newly arrived bundles of joy, I however was left holding two un-house trained devils with very sharp teeth and an older dog who didn't know what'd hit him!
On one particular walk I remember shouting at him in tears. I was desperate to have a clean house that didn't smell of poo, I was desperate for these puplets to be tired enough to let me sit in peace and I was desperate for some help from golden boy himself, except as usual, despite all the talk-me-into-talks we'd had that he'd help and he'd train them and he'd walk them, he spent most of that time at work! The conversation went like this;
Me: I'VE BEEN ON 7 WALKS TODAY AND THEY'RE STILL NOT TIRED! Out of all the dogs we could have got, YOU chose WORKING COCKER SPANIELS, they're WORKING dogs for goodness sake, they need miles and miles of walks every day and I just can't walk that far AND do everything else – WORKING cocker spaniels!!
Him: They don't know they're working cocker spaniels!
Give me strength!
It's Monday morning and for some reason I just can't shake myself awake. It's true I have had a pretty full on weekend, Meg Reid and I ran the first weekend of our Coaching Diploma course – the 6th one we've run and as usual the first weekend saw the induction of 10 more eager-to-get-on-with-it students.
They listened and soaked up the information we hurled at them, they asked a million questions all of which were relevant and interesting and by the end of Sunday night, they were exhausted. Invigorating and exciting as it is for myself and Meg too, it's also exhausting and at the end of Sunday we usually leave, always much more jaded than we remember being the previous time with our books, flipcharts and folders under our arms for an evening of nothing much – because nothing much is usually all we can muster!
At the end of the Saturday evening, one diligent student asked what homework they should do before the Sunday – Meg and I said in unison – 'Watch Strictly Come Dancing!' Except I'm more of an X-factor girl as you know and I did exactly that, one puppy either side of me on the sofa and my mum on the other sofa.
It's become a weekly habit now and Mum and I laugh together at the awful auditions or cry at the sob stories of very normal looking people who have had tragedy in their lives but open their mouths to reveal voices to die for.
My heart sank on the Sunday morning though when I woke up and saw the mess that was once my lovely clean house. How is gets like that I absolutely don't know. There's only me and The Husband and 3 dogs and you'd think it'd been trashed by a the England rugby team! There's clothes mountains, washing up waiting to go in the dishwasher, clean plates waiting to come out the dishwasher, the laundry bin over flowing, the rubbish to put out, not to mention the dog toys littering the floor and half eaten blankets (the puppies) covering most of the carpets.
It gets like that when I work a lot, it just happens. One minute I'm in a nice tidy house, eyes down at my laptop, then two days later when I look up from the keyboard the whole house has reorganised itself – badly!
Sunday I only hoped and prayed that The Husband might also notice the mess and just deal with it all while I was with my students all day and he was at home.
I jested (as you do!) at how nice it would be to come back to a clean ordered house, one smelling of fresh laundry, the dinner cooking and a large glass of red poured out for me – oh yes and the smell of a bubble bath wafting down the stairs from my freshly drawn steaming bath. It was met with that eyebrow-up/side-on look that said I'm also knacked from working all week, and I have the Ryder Cup to keep score of and sleep to catch up on...wife! But he smiled a half smile and got on with his breakfast.
Bugger...that won't do it! I thought, Stronger message Lynette stronger message I chanted. 'Oh honey...when you do the laundry today can you make sure the pups bedding goes in because they brought mud in from the garden' that should do it – nice and direct – clearly delivered with a presumptuous tone - perfect! Except I was still met with the same eyebrow-up/side-on look from before, only this time the tone was No seriously, I have still plans that involve a sofa, a remote control and the game with the small white ball!
Damn – this isn't working...Subtlety? Tick. Directness? Tick. Only one thing for it...bribery!
I'm not going to let you in on the details of the bribe, but lets just say I left with an I'll-see-you-later smile (and the laptop under my arm to take away distractions). He did still have the eyebrow-up/side-on look, except his smile had widened! Boys...they're so easy to play with!
Anyway, a wonderful Sunday was had, the students are a delight to work with and although full of books to read, dissertation titles to think about, various new ways of asking questions and listening to add to their skill set this week, I, and they, left elated but exhausted.
I came home to THE freshest smelling, most tidy house ever. Airing cupboard emptied, clothes mountains disappeared, laundry on the line, pups walked and hurled, dinner on, red wine waiting and a hot bubble bath!
Bribery...works every time!
Ok, I'm really fed up of having to wipe dog slobber off my puppies back! The Porge has taken to following William around the house and slobbering all over his back. His best trick is to do this just as he's had a long drink of water, then he trapses around looking for William leaving puddles wherever he goes and if I have to wipe poor William up again I'm going to scream!
I'm thinking that maybe William rolled in something on the field when we took him for a run - if he did, it's nothing the human nose can detect but Georgie just won't leave him alone. I know the answer is to bath William and probably Grayson for that matter and I've been putting off for days now because of another problem.
The Pups aren't allowed upstairs. There's a babygate that stops them and for 8 months they've been REALLY good and just didn't bother trying to go upstairs as they knew the baby gate was there.
Then one Sunday morning muggins here thought it'd be sweet if I took the pups upstairs with me with a cup of tea for The Husband. I knew they'd jump on his head and get very overexcited and wake him up (my plan - saves me prodding him for 20 minutes!). It worked, the did exactly as I planned and jumped on him, waking him up in good humour and once they'd calmed down they fell asleep on the bed - lovely. 'Maybe we could make this a Sunday morning treat for them!' I exclaimed NIAVELY!
For now, Grayson thinks that going upstairs is not only normal but expected, he's got a smashing trick of jumping the babygate - with no effort - no desperate clambering over the top of it - just a clear leap over and he's away - 14 times I brought him down the following day! Each time, using my Pack Leaderish calm, assertive manner (Cesar Milan would have been proud) - well I may have shouted...just a little...on the 14th time but even Life Coaches have their limits.
The jumping has been reduced to perhaps 3 times a day now - which is still infuriating as I know I caused this whole thing!
SO, if I want to bath them...guess where the bath is! You got it upstairs! So now, I've been putting off bathing the little gorgeous bundles of fun because surely that's tantamount to giving in? They'll have to have a bath soon though - all dogs get regularly bathed in this house. What to do?! Suggestions welcome!
Who's idea was it to get puppies anyway...HUSBAND!
