Explicit lyrics.....WARNING TO ALL PARENTS!

This is one of my worst confessions as a parent to date.

We recently took a few days away to Burry Port and in order to limit the usual "falling out" incidents during the journey to our destination, we have discovered the benefit of giving our old mobile phones as new personal music players for #1 & #2.

This serves a few purposes:

1. Both are engrossed in their music rather than annoying each other.
2. They can sing along (just like there is no one listening) whilst we snigger at the odd duff note.
3. We can listen to #3 discuss the importance of having her dummy because being in the car on a journey naturally means it is time for a sleep.

Anyway, whilst cruising past Hirwaun.....(we did not stop), we heard #2 singing along to "Right About Now" by Fat Boy Slim.........she was repeating "Funk Soul Brother" in tune and with much determination.   

I quickly asked the "nearest and dearest" whether he had selected tracks for her playlist or had the whole albums transferred across from the PC hard-drive to her phone? to which he assured me that only select tracks had been selected.   Phew I thought.......

As we passed Llanelli and neared our destination, I heard a little snigger and glanced back in the rear view mirror so see #2 nodding her head to a beat, then removing the headphones and saying to #1, "listen to this".

Beetroot & Ginger Chutney

Here is my first attempt at making chutney......should find out in 6-8 weeks if it tastes any good!

Tales from Taiwan - 3

I never thought that I would KFC seems appealing by comparison...

The Hidden Claw

I had a random meal on Saturday (which I'll tell you all about when I speak to you) but it involved me accidentally eating a chicken foot (a delicacy here).  One of the foulest things ever and absolutely nothing redeemable about it from what I can gather.  You're probably wondering how I didn't realise it was a chicken foot but it had basically been boiled to the point where it had lost all skin pigmentation and was presented in such a way that from a distance (which I was sat from it) it looked like squid, nestled in some shredded bamboo.  

I was nestled between a Chinese lady who was keen to practice her English with me so in the midst of answering her questions, foolishly allowed my chopsticks to lift whatever was in the nearest bowl and send on autopilot to my mouth….. BIG MISTAKE! 

On entering my mouth I soon realised I was eating rubbery flesh, and on extracting it from my mouth saw all the cartilage etc.  I almost vommed there and then! 

God I feel queasy now even thinking about it.  I can't even say the seasoning was good - it was just plain awful!

Tales from Taiwan - 2

This one is one that made me laugh out loud, especially when one has to remember that my youngest sibling is not overweight in any way and in fact is a classic size 10/12 in the UK.

The Changing Room

Today ladies, I made the serious error of clothes shopping (never a good

idea when you're on your period let's be honest, but in my case it was a

necessity).

Cut to me unsuccessfully trying on a variety of clothes (all in XL, XXL

of course) while sweating profusely in a tiny little changing area.

What happened next can only be described as a particularly low point for

me in my lifetime shopping experiences to date.  I could hear two

Taiwanese girls nearby giggling away.  I looked up, and lo and behold

they were pointing and giggling at me (a common occurrence of which I am

getting used to).  Then one of them whilst beaming at me so, so sweetly

and politely proceeded to meekly walk up to me, tickle my tummy, giggle

and exclaim "Ahhhhhh, you so fat!!!!!"

As I said, a low point of my shopping experience I feel!

As she wandered back to her friend, giggling and still smiling at me. I

politely nodded, returned the big beaming smile and muttered a line of

profanities through gritted, smiling teeth.  Small victories ladies,

small victories.  The little bugger caught me at my most vulnerable -

bent over in my big period pants, with my chub hanging out over the

elastic.  I never stood a chance.  I just didn't see it coming!!

Suffice to say, I strode out of the changing room proudly with my XXL

items, head held high and in defiance started rifling through the S/M

items!

Unsurprisingly my shopping trip proved fruitless and I took my fat body

home.

Tales from Taiwan

Shoot me down I know.....a despicable amount of time has lapsed since I last put my finger pad to the keyboard although a lot has happened since my last post.

Mainly the on-set of summer holidays which included a trip to France  which was delayed due to noticing that #2's passport had expired the night before we were due to leave....agggghhhhhh.

Anyway, the summer was for once, a reminder of what it could be like to live in Britain during the summer when that yellow circular shape in the sky pokes through....bloody wonderful!

Now I am going to cheat for a few forthcoming posts as my youngest sibling is currently teaching English in Taiwan and during the daily battle with humidity and struggling to manage her new Diana Ross bouffant whilst also controlling a multitude of children who are learning English as their second language.......her excursion trails around Taipei are rather amusing and I feel I should share them with you....

Tale One - The Unknown Dish

The soup story basically entails me quietly eating dinner on my tod

in a veggie restaurant when this sweet lil ole lady comes over to me

offering a bowl of soup with an excited look on her face.  In broken

English with an adorable friendly smile on her face she insisted " You

try.  Very good for you.   Very good for eyes.  You eat".   'Oh bless

her' I thought as she handed me the bowl.  What happened next can only

be described as the scene from out of Indiana Jones Temple of Doom,

where the villagers give them food and Willie doesn't want to eat it.

I took one mouthful of this soup and literally it was all I could do not

to gag.  I have absolutely no idea what was in this soup but the smell

is akin to the pools of rank, fetid water that gather around porta loos

at festivals.  I'm almost retching at the thought as the memory comes

back to me.  To make matters worse, the rest of the restaurant had by

this point gathered around with expectant faces eager to see what I

thought of this revered soup.  Every fibre in my body wanted to balk but

in true British style and wanting to be polite, I winced and swallowed,

forcing out an occasional "Mmmm" while tears slowly rolled down my

cheeks, and I wept for my tastebuds.  Honestly, if this stuff improves

eyesight I'd rather be blind!!!

The Slow Worm

I am not a big fan of snakes, largely due to a childhood incident involving surprising a snake whilst running away from an armed sibling.  Suffice to say that the scene from Indiana Jones and Raiders of the lost Ark springs to mind when he falls into that pit of snakes.....

Our garden is full of slow-worms which has presented rather a problem for me over the last few months as inevitably I have to deal with them during weeding chores.  Therefore my time in the garden is punctuated with my regular shrieks of horror when encountering what my mind views as mini-snakes.  

Now I know that they are totally harmless but firstly this:

• They are not slow
• They vary in length and size
• They have tongues likes snakes….Nuff said

Earlier this week, whilst walking the children down the drive to the school, we noticed a scraggy cat pawing and dancing around on the pavement.  Yep….pestering a particularly large slow-worm which in its defence, had wriggled off the pavement and was making its way onto the road.

I don’t really know what came over me but the horror of knowing the poor thing would be fatally imprinted with a tyre tread and in so doing, the memories of my children, I knew I had to take immediate action.

With the sound of cars approaching the school (and slow worm) I made my hasty decision to pick up the “slow-worm” and gently fling him into the safety of our garden whilst chanting internally with a frenzied “***k”,  “***k” and  “aaaagggggghhhhhhhhhh!”

I was instantly rewarded with “Well Done Mummy – that was a big one!”

So too was my near cardiac arrest whilst experiencing the sensation of its cool, coiling body around my fingers……eeeuuuggghhh!!!!!

Shriek in the Country

This is short and somewhat embarrassing blog entry and I have debated with myself about whether to post this....but here goes.

I felt the need to go out and have a little jog tonight after having just "one of those days" and despite the light, misty rain, rather enjoyed huffing and puffing my way up towards the Darren, above Crickhowell.

Anyway, I have to carry an Epi-pen as suffered a severe anaphylaxis years ago following a wasp sting.
 Before leaving the house, I had failed to find my bum-bag and instead wedged the Epi-pen down between the waist-line of my lycra leggings. (Lycra never a good look at the best of times....and certainly was not today).

After about 30 mins of damp exertion, and consistent re-arranging of the said Epi-pen, I then took the bold measure of using my knicker elastic to try and create more tension which turned out to be a very pleasing result, as I could then run back towards Crickhowell, without having to keep one hand on my hip to stop the Epi-pen from slipping down my legs.

As I approached the last field, my trainers squeaking with squelchy wet grass, I suddenly felt a cold, solid yet soft sensation gradually slipping down my right leg and let out and involuntary shriek as I thought it felt like someone hidden in the hedge had suddenly felt the need to reach out and grab my leg.  (A lot of people do enjoy hanging around in hedges for this very purpose).

After gingerly tapping my leg and feeling brave enough to extract the foreign object trapped above my knee....I discovered the source of my initial panic.  

A very soft and soggy pantyliner.

Toothbrush Horror

I have to report on this incident as I am curious to find out whether people find the following use of “shared toothbrush” acceptable.

Picture the scene,

The nearest and dearest and myself are getting ready for bed following a nauseating compulsion to watch yet another series of The Apprentice.

I walk into the bathroom to find my husband using my toothbrush despite the fact that he has one of his own.  My instant thoughts:

·         My brush is clean as I believe in rinsing after use…..his has a gradual build up (like wax) of dried white toothpaste spittle which is working its way like bind weed down his brush.

·        Why is he using mine which is bright orange and deliberately so, to remind him that it does not belong to him?

·         How many times has this happened before and if so have I doubled the amount of bacteria in my mouth by unknowingly brushing my pearly whites with my brush after he has used it?

My gag reflex then started and I had to resort to immediate measures:

• I had no spare brush in the cupboard so was forced to open up #3's brand new  Peppa Pig “George” brush in order to clean my teeth.
• I can no longer leave my brush in the communal area - EVER.
• I CANNOT possibly think of ever using my old brush again because despite the fact that as husband and wife, we have shared many things, the thought of sharing of personal tooth debris...oops – have gagged again.....from using a shared brush is completely unacceptable for me...in fact, I would go as far to say that its akin to sharing snot. 

Out of interest – who is comfortable with the sharing of toothbrushes – known or otherwise?

Spring/Summer has arrived!!

Sorry folks for not posting anything during April, but a combination of frostbite on my fingers and sheer depression on the weather front all assisted in my being a lazy slouch all cuddled up on the sofa.

Actually, I have started running (ahem....gentle jogging again) and have also been doing the Davina Buff DVD in an attempt to shift a major muffin top which has been steadily developing over the last month in front of the said TV.

Yesterday we took the family up the Skirrid Mountain on one of the most beautiful sunny days we have yet had this year.  It really was stunning and being a National Trust woodland (which I was totally unaware of) the paths were well kept.  The overall walk was about 3 miles from start to finish, totally uplifting and one that made me proud to be a local resident.

Prior to our exertions upwards, we stopped at Hannah's on the Hill which is a great cosy home cafe which is located just up the road from the Skirrid mountain car park.   The cafe serves a great array of home-made cakes, biscuits, meringues and cupcakes (the Chocolate Tiffin is to die for!) along with excellent coffee all from the cosy confines of their kitchen.
Both Hannah and Pete really did make all of their garden guests very welcome and they even provide picnic blankets for weary walkers to sit down upon and enjoy the views and serenity of the area.

Heartily recommended - just find on Facebook for more details.

Spring my Arse........

I am so fed up with this arctic weather that I cannot sit and write about it without taking my gloves off.

I mean, the clocks are going forward this weekend and worse, how on earth am I supposed to hide the Easter Bunnies eggs in the garden when it is covered with snow?

Three Pens and a Table

Crickhowell Walking Festival is on from the 1st - 10th March 2013 and bring a local, I felt it my duty to sign up to at least one reasonably long walk this year.

Due to the inconvenience of having to work full-time, I could only rely on weekend walks so decided to choose Walk 12 - Three Pens and a Table on Sunday 3rd March.

Saturday 2nd March was finally looking like Spring had arrived - the sky was blue, the sun came out and one even felt a tinge of warmth on the face whilst being out and about......not so for Sunday 3rd.

The walk was sponsored by Mirandas Preserves which I must say, do a fantastic Raspberry jam.

In true local fashion,we left it right until the last minute, to leave behind 3 children for my fab sister #2 to look after and were embarrassingly the last to arrive at The Old Chapel, Gwyne Fechan but still had time to knock back a swift cup of tea and chocolate biscuit before heading off with the rest of the professionally equipped group of walkers (some of which had travelled quite a distance to enjoy the Welsh hills for the day).

I at least, had a walking shoes on and a decent coat but I could visibly see glances of disdain for my husbands jeans and shoes (In his defence - they are Gore-tex and have been down the Grand Canyon)

Thankfully I had packed two pairs of gloves because as we all ventured up into the Black Mountains, the wind picked up, the cloud came down and each of us, as we hit the top, were buffeted by a "bracing" gale and felt like cold needles being stabbed repeatedly into our faces.  Down came the hoods, the heads and off we all trudged - the leader, John, was quite keen that we kept moving quickly as conditions were pretty hypothermic.  The experienced members of the group agreed that the wind chill factor was at least -15 to -20!

The strange thing is, that despite me continually feeling like I would be the next Sir Ranulph Fiennes (I suffer from Raynaud's Phenomenon), I thoroughly enjoyed the intense buffeting which lasted for about 2 hours or so of the 12 mile hike.

I plan to post up the technical details of the walk from the nearest and dearest which he recorded on his mobile but check out Crickhowell Walking Festival for details of all the other walks that take place.

Typically - today was back to work and what happens....Spring tried to arrive again with sunshine - no two days in Wales are ever the same!

Call from the Police....

Picture the scene......

A kitchen that looks like a man has been in it for a few hours (oh sorry- this is true), three children doing their   own thing on Saturday morning without Mummy reminding them about homework, reading and brushing their teeth, leaving the Sudocrem alone etc ............ and a lone white telephone on the kitchen table.

(In case you wonder, I was running around an astro-pitch at Glamorgan University Sports Ground and had left the house early and proceeded through permafrost towards Treforest to play hockey).

Imagine the same phone ringing later that morning and my nearest/dearest answering it with his usual cheery "Good Morning! although he may have had to hunt for the phone amongst the bloated cheerios, toast crumbs and Marmite, but needless to say - it was answered.

The conversation apparently went a bit like this.....

• Nearest/Dearest - "Good Morning!"
• Policeman (Cool Tone)- "Good Morning - we have received a 999 Distress call from this number."
• Nearest/Dearest - (Pause with likely thought of "Oh F***) -         Oh.......?
• Policeman (Still Cool)  - "Yes - can you confirm that you do not require this service Sir?
• Nearest/Dearest - "No, sorry, we have no emergency at this number, it must have been my daughter.  Sorry"
• Policeman - "OK, I need to confirm your Name and Address"
• Nearest/Dearest confirmed details, apologised again and the conversation ended.

When I found out, I immediately asked whether we were going to be fined but it would appear that on this occasion (our first ever and last hopefully) we have escaped what appears to be legitimate fine.

You will be pleased to hear that the phone is being relocated immediately to ensure no further calls can be made to jeopardise those who really need it.

Tri Poo!

We recently braved a family visit to London over half-term as #1 wanted to see Big Ben and #2 wanted to see the Queen at Buckingham Palace - as you do being 5.

Thankfully we have dear friends who live on the outskirts of the big city and we were lucky enough to park and leave the car on their drive after a really EASY drive around the M25 to get to them....Yes - it really is possible!!

Anyway, we alighted in Waterloo after a short train journey and then proceeded to walk around the London Eye, Big Ben and Buckingham Palace - the children had been cooped up in the car all the way down the M4 and deserved a good run around.

The prompt for tea from all three of our little cherubs whilst hitting Leicester Square around 1630 was rather stressful, given that we had just negotiated the tube with a buggy and x2 overnight bags so we ended up traipsing into Bella Italia which seemed to offer a reasonably decent children's' menu.

It was then that I noticed that all the tables had been set romantically for two as we (being parents of young children) had not considered the impact of Valentines night......we were however given a table, tucked away where noise levels could hopefully be maintained to a reasonable level.

Our children did us proud.  They were polite, well-mannered and even kept their bottoms on seats throughout the entire meal, except their compulsion to have to go and "check out" the toilets downstairs.  
Naturally they could not go on their own so I was elected to escort both #1  #2 to the depths of the building to probably one of the smallest toilet cubicles on earth......both decided that I had to wait whilst they saw fit to fragrance the air.  I felt like a furtive thief waiting outside their toilet doors, praying that nobody would come in and think I was responsible for the smell....

Upon returning to the table, I whiffed the unmistakeable "poop de Nappy" of #3 which the nearest and dearest was kind enough to contend with whilst I attempted to complete my meal.

You would think this was the end but before the bill arrived, #3 darted under the table and again I suspected "movement"......yes, this time it was my turn to try and change the nappy of a 23 month child, who is happy to tell you she has done a poo, whilst you try and bend your body into a cubicle with no baby changing facility.

10 mins later, we emerge into the wash-room where one of our "table neighbours" breaks London tradition and actually talks to us....."I must say that your daughter here and your children upstairs have really made my husband and myself smile during our meal and we were surprised to hear her (#3) name as its the same as mine and we don't know any others!"

#3 looked at the lady and gave that baleful look that can induce paranoia into the most confident of individuals but I was so pleased to hear friendly feedback from a complete stranger on my young family and their behaviour in public.   It really was a Valentine's moment for the parents but not with the smell of roses...

Image below from http://crappypictures.com/images/old/6a01538f62421f970b01538f666de5970b-800wi.jpg.......says it all!

Miss Mouse and the sore Foof

Ah - the joy of half-term.

Day two and other than swimming, a little light shopping, tea at friends and optician appointments, we have been taking it easy.

This afternoon, whilst upstairs sorting old clothes (a great way to enjoy annual leave)  I heard little footsteps on the stairs, then heard the little voice of #3 (who is not yet two) informing me that she had "ceem on hands mummy, ceem on hands"

I  then saw little fingers, smothered in a white substance,  rise up like ghost posts through the slats in the stairs.

Upon quickly placing her on my hip and from just the smell alone, I knew immediately that the Sudocrem pot had been left lying around.......the conversation went something like this:

• Me - "#3, what have you been doing?"
• #3 - "Put ceem on hands mummy"
• Me - "Why #3?"
• #3  - "Mousey sore foof, mousey sore foof"
• Me - Oh no...........

We then moved into the kitchen, where I discovered "Miss Mouse", her favourite woollen friend, propped up against the wall with her legs akimbo.

Miss Mouse looked something like this.....

I guess it could have been worse.....might have been a sore bottom too.

Cruel words....

A quick post based on the observations of #2 when she recently helped take  #1 to a mid week event.  

I was only told about it whilst out on the weekend with my husband (who like me) inwardly winced at the distinct reasoning behind the open comment.

Apparently it went something like this....

• #2 (with loud voice) - Look Daddy, that person looks like Hagrid!

This comment is unfortunate on a few levels:

1 - The person was a woman.  (The comment was made  in a quiet queue)

2 - Hagrid, as all Harry Potter fans know, is not particularly svelte or feminine

3 - Our failings as parents to encourage our children to keep such pertinent thoughts to themselves

4 - Worse...I immediately realised who #2 was referring to as I have had a similar thoughts myself but could not succinctly place the character.    Shame on me.......

Made some Marmalade!

Its amazing what a spell of bad weather will bring on and in my case this weekend, whilst watching with glee, the melting of the wretched white stuff, I came upon a bag of summer in the form of a netted bag of Seville Oranges.

Now normally I would not have given the bag a moments thought but next to it (product placement in a huge vulgar fashion) were boxes of Preserving sugar......and my mind said "Ooh - Lets Make Marmalade!"

I have never made marmalade before but have watched my Mum over many years creating slightly different variations of what to place on my toast, so I thought, lets have a go.

Trusty Delia's Complete Cookery Course came out from her hiding place in the cupboard and the session began.  It was very therapeutic cutting up the oranges, wiping my smarting eyes when a few became over excited and squirted juice into my retina, but within minutes of the boiling process, my house became infused with a smell of hope.....sunshine and warmth.

Note for next-time - I will remove all the pips like Delia suggested before getting to the stage of testing on a saucer.

After sterilising some old jars (Yes, it is worth keeping some back instead of recycling, but maybe not Pickle Onion ones), I felt rather satisfied with a few hours work - see below for evidence.

Tastes good too according to my highly critical testers.

Snow Kayaking in Crickhowell

To avoid the onset of cabin fever brought on by the recent snowfall, we decided to pull on extra socks, pack a flask of coffee along with a  huge slice of leftover Christmas cake and made our way up to the Table Mountain overlooking Crickhowell.

It was a rather cold slog up through some impressive snow drifts and the temperature chilled as we progressed towards the top but the views were spectacular, not least because we could enjoy them in peace (the children were kindly being looked after and we discovered after, had enjoyed their first ever viewing of Teen Wolf).

The coffee and cake came as welcome relief in the little rocky shelter on the top, not least because the wind had teeth and was positively gnawing away at my nose and ear lobes.  It dawned on me that I should have worn a balaclava perhaps but I always feel I should be wielding a gun and painting my face with mud in order to justify this "look".

Anyway - on our descent, we came across two young men who were clearly up to fun and by this, I mean placing their bottoms into kayaks and then paddling down the snowy steep slopes.  At first I will admit to thinking that perhaps this was not a sensible idea but when I actually saw the one boy travelling at break neck speed,  his paddles acting as both brakes and ballast, I did have a severe moment of "extreme fun envy".    It looked totally exhilarating.    We did wonder at how he would stop prior to slicing through the hedge and potentially decapitating his head but after a few controlled doughnuts, he came to a perfect parallel stop.

I really wished I had been able to film it on my phone but my hands were bloody freezing.  This winter sport appears to be quite popular and when you see it in first person, you really can see what all the potential fuss is all about......Fun Fun Fun.

It's not going well......

Well - I have to admit to not behaving particularly well on the plan to limit my intake of "crap" since my last posting.

It all went wrong when a colleague brought a load of semi-out of date mince pies into the office and I fell at the first hurdle.  In my defence I was sat in a freezing office in one of thee most depressing areas on earth and my cup of tea craved company whilst it travelled down my oesophagus.

Since then, I have also eaten some Celebrations (mostly Twix and Mars) whilst holding back tears when watching the baby elephant starve and die on the recent episode of BBC's brilliant new documentary Africa.

Today, despite the fact that I have eaten a load of dried Apricots and raisins at the desk, I now feel bloated, full of "farts with teeth" and cannot bring myself to get Davina out of her box.

I am planning a muddy run on Sunday.....does that mean I can have a slice of Christmas cake?

2013 - RIGHT THEN!

Well, the Xmas tat and decorations are packed away in the shed and I am going to try and be a bit more consistent with my Blog postings as I have been truly useless over the last few months.

I would love to say that I have been busy (which is not totally far from the truth) but the sad fact is that I have been struggling with a low mood and hence any blog posts would have only darkened the screen upon which it was read and who needs to read about boredom and negativity - we have access to the news and the Daily Snail for that.

I am going to focus on losing a bit of weight over the next few months and firm up on the wobbly bits which I must blame on the ease of eating the childrens' chocolate without guilt.  I have done a few small jogging sessions over the Christmas period (well, two) but in fairness, the River Usk did pop over its banks during the Christmas holidays due to all the rain - probably some of that "Extreme" variety all the meteorologists are going on about.

Good old Davina Body Buff is going to help me burn some calories in the privacy of my lounge - (I will have the decency  to draw the curtains) and I also plan a little Zumba - again from the lounge, as I cannot face going to the local sessions, get knocked in the head by a strangers flailing hand (or worse - foot) and pretend I am Madonna......I AM NOT.

So - having just downed a cup of mint tea, I am going to finish watching the second episode of Borgen and plan my fat attack for the next few weeks.   If you are really lucky - I might just bore you with the plan, the "action" and the results......which means I might have to buy a weighing scales tomorrow in Asda on the weekly shop.   

Toodle Pip