Tank cosy on Flickr - Photo Sharing!
Now, I know I knit all kinds of stuff… but a crocheted tank cosy? 
Which I found on Extreme Craft. Ok, so maybe I didn’t find it. Lisa found it. And subsequently sidetracked me for far too long. 
That was another half hour gone.
If you ignore the riot going on upstairs…
Had a nice lie in - the big two took themselves downstairs to watch the box just before 8, and then Piglet woke me up at 9am to tell me she had a ’soggy bum’. Actually, it was somewhat more than soggy, so that necessitated a bath for her and a full stripping of the bed, all sheets, duvets, cuddly toys etc into the washing machine. Urgh, thanks for that, grotbag. She thought it was funny.
And so far, I’ve managed to finish all my ironing (yay!), do a batch of washing and drying, catch up via phone with a couple of people who thought I’d dropped off the face of the planet over the past two months and I even found some croissants in the freezer for breakfast.
The small two have abandoned the tv for the bedroom toys and Myf is making some crafty style concoction in the corner of the playroom. See, you can have too much of the Super Scooby Sunday after all.
I was sent a link to a very interesting site a week or two ago, but it got lost in the jumble of emotions that was last week.
Now I have some quiet (James in Worcester, kids in bed), a bit of time (no magazine to edit, laundry all done, dishwasher running) and a hot cup of tea (!), I thought I’d have a look at the Sacred Texts website.
It’s absolutely fascinating. I love comparative religion and all things spiritual - I find the differences (and startling similarities!) between the major and not-so-major religions quite extraordinary. I did consider training as an R.E. teacher a few years ago, until I found out that you had to devote 70% of your teaching time to Christianity - a religion that is practised by just under 30% of the worlds population. Which doesn’t make any sense to me.
However, I’ve fallen headlong into this site and found myself reading the Qu’ran (not the Arabic version, so technically it should be called a transliteration or the meaning of the Quran). Also open in tabs are pages on the Syrian Goddess, the index page for content regarding England (which seems to contain some whimsical stuff on Arthur and faery folklore), Shinto scripture and the wonderfully if slightly disturbingly bizarre Fortean texts.
And to compound the problem, I just googled the term comparative religion and found this)
I may be some time…
Yesterday was hard. But also, it was a good day. There were many, many people, all there to say good bye in their own way; and the service was beautiful, the weather behaved (we didn’t get rained on once in our various journeys between home and church and crem and golf course), and the gathering at the golf course afterwards was phenomenal. We got there at about 4.30 - finally peeled James and his dad away at 9.30. We were in bed for 11, but today I feel so incredibly drained and tired and totally washed out. My fingers feel like they’re disembodied as they tip tap on the keyboard. Quite surprised that the right words are appearing on the screen.
Today is a quiet day - did a little in the greenhouse, parcelled up some chicken backs for the dog, did lunch, popped into town to the market with Mom. Now she’s gone home and the girls are vegetating in front of the box - must go poke Piglet awake as she went down for a nap and is so exhausted, but she won’t settle tonight if she sleeps past 5pm. Poor little buggers weren’t in bed until gone 10pm.
Off to sit and read my new Permaculture magazine now, followed by the two gardening mags I’ve had kicking around for a while and not had a chance to read. With a cup of tea - a whole, hot cup of tea too. And I’m not moving from the table until I’ve finished the entire thing!
To everyone for lovely comments and emails and cards. It’s feels good to know there’s so many people thinking of us.
The funeral is on Friday afternoon - my Mom is coming up to sit on the girls, as I don’t think it’s appropriate that they go to a funeral yet. They’re still way too young to fully comprehend what’s going on. Although Myf did show she has at least grasped the edges, by asking if we could go to Poppa’s this afternoon, as opposed to asking to go to Grandma’s. I think she does know what it means in theory, but it’ll probably take a while for the reality to sink in.
Piglet’s temper continues to amaze and astound me. Where does she get that hellion streak from? Terrible twos nothing - this is full on screaming, defiant rage. And her excema is worse, so it’s probably combined with that. She’s completely off dairy, so I have no idea what is making her arms flare up like they have. And her legs, the back of her neck, top of her buttocks… poor little mite. Although she did announce the other day that her left arm was her picking arm and her right arm was her scratching arm. Eurgh, revolting child.
She made me smile in the bath tonight though - I was leaning over the edge holding her yellow boat. “That’s MY pirate ship,” she states in that defiant tone that means she knows she’s being obstreperous. I just stare at her and say ‘manners’.
“Please may I, uh, this is MY pirate ship.” Clutching it to her chest.
I give her the raised eyebrow.
So she puts the ship back in my hand.
“Thank you Mommy, please may I have my pirate ship back please?”
All big blue eyes and damp curls. Little cow.
Tea and Myf seem to be enjoying school. Tea is delightful, whimsical, very hard on her clothes, has perfected the blank vacant blue-eyed stare, autistic-ly stubborn and uncommunicative at times, capable of babbling for 20 minutes straight without a breath at others, is by turns clingy and independent, and is actually perfectly lovely.
Myf is 6 going on 16, with her “Kevin and Perry” attitude and bullying manner towards her sisters. She’s also very loving, bright, smart-mouthed, eats everything in sight (except meals that involved potatoes that aren’t fried or rice - wants bread and butter instead), stroppy, opinionated, and bloody minded. And I don’t have a clue how she ticks. Still.
And Piglet (in addition to the previously mentioned temper) is adorable, selectively deaf, bolshy, rude, huggable, grey-hair-inducing, bad-tempered (had to mention it again), precocious, incredibly loud and still the baby. Just.
I remember reading about a book called ‘Raising your spirited child’ and think I’m going to have to search it out, as Piglet is developing definite ’spirited’ characteristics. ie, she’s too bloody minded for her own good. I have absolutely no control over her whatsoever. Which is depressing to admit, but I think I need help! And I’ve tried everything from the ‘naughty step’ to smacking her hands, to taking away toys, to ignoring her, to getting down on her level and ‘discussing’ it - I wonder if they do those electric collars you can get for dogs in Piglet’s size? As it might just be the only thing that can stop her in her tracks when she’s tear-arsing away from me towards a main road.
I have resorted to using a wrist strap, and she is oh-so-not-amused. Even patient explanations of ‘walk holding my hand and I’ll take it off’, couched in terms ranging from baby talk to grown-up Anglo-saxon have failed. One of those studded harnesses you see people walking Bull Terriers in would be useful.
Here’s a gratuitous Land Rover pic, to reassure you all that normal service will be resuming shortly. “Seeing Double”.
Taken at the Gaydon show a fortnight ago, ours is on the right.
Christina Louise Wood, nee Ziegler. 2 July 1944 - 11 May 2006
Mother, daughter, sister, wife, grandma and aunt.
The girls were picking daisies for you today. We made you a daisy chain. James said you could hear them laughing in the garden.
You will be missed more than I can find words for. Sleep well, and in peace.
Well, remember that last post, about the amazing customer service?
You can double it and add bells. UPS picked up the base unit of my dehydrator on Wednesday afternoon. I only sent the base as that was the broken bit - no point shipping the trays all the way there and back, right? And that’s what it says on the return guarantee thingy.
So, Tuesday morning, am dressing the Piglet ready for the school headless-chicken-run, and there’s a knock on the door. UPS. With a package. I note the UKJuicers stickers all over it and make some unladylike comment along the lines of ‘damn that was fast’.
“Would have been quicker,” says the delivery chap. “I tried to deliver it yesterday but the label say number 2 instead of number 12.”
Still reeling, I open what I think to be a slightly too large box… and it turns out to be a brand new, unopened dehydrator. A la this one. Brand spanking new. With 6 new trays.
Which means I’ve now got 12 trays for it - double the drying space. And you can use up to 20 trays on one base unit. I’m so the happy bunny. Now that’s what I call service.
