Just Because they Say They Don't Love You Doesn't Mean You Haven't Done A Good Job

As I find so often nowadays, I must preface this post with the fact that I started it a long time ago.
Nevertheless, as I move to complete it, there are still issues that remain unresolved and roads to travel for both of us. And so I give you:
My Struggle With My Beautiful BA

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(Quite A While Ago in 2014)

So the beautiful but temperamental Baby Angel (who would probably need a new name if she even remembered I had a blog, let alone bothered to read it) is not dealing well with my decision to strike out on my own.

I had not anticipated this.

In the past, The BA has sagely commented on the foibles of the male members of our family, summing the whole lot up with statements such as 'I wish we had a normal family'.
Well apparently, it seems, a crap family is better than none and guess what? It is all my fault!
Of course.

Because you see, I am still the adult. Even though the BA is 19 going on 105, she is still a neophyte human being with limited life experience.
And because I am still a teacher, while I am going through **** , you might as well learn from it.

So, here are her declarations and the obvious common responses.
I give you however, the Flaming Sword responses as an alternative.

1) "Mum", she cries, " You are messing up my life!"

Trap for Swordless parents: omg she is right. I am being so selfish. I should stay with him to provide a stable home for her to stay in for ....oh another 6 months before she moves out with her boyfriend.

Sword Response: This is a minor inconvenience for you now. You will still have a place to live, a roof over your head and food on your table. The negative elements of your life are being removed and with that comes pain. No one said life would be without pain. Nevertheless, the change will provide many positives which you still (because of your youth) cannot see. You will be ok. You will survive this my very loved child. The people who have been your stable childhood are all still there. You can adjust. You have the foundations.  You have the ability. You are resilient and you will be better off in a less stressed environment.

2) "Mum", she cries,"You are such a hypocrite, what can you tell me? You discouraged sex before marriage and yet we KNOW what you did!!"

Trap for Swordless parents: omg she is right, I was so totally a slapper.....

Sword response: That is like saying a person injured in a car accident cannot caution others against excessive speed.

3) "Mum", she cries,"venom venom venom "
Trap for Swordless parents: I am a terrible parent, I must get my child to love me again....

Sword Advice: when your child spews venom at you, respond with "I'm sorry you feel that way, however...." This strategy works as well at the age of 19 as it does at 4.

 You may have noticed that this last example was a trifle vague. That is because there were actually more nasty things that she said to me, but (the good news is), two months on, I can't remember what they were.... (deliriously happy face)

My happy lesson to you is that whatever I suggested....works!

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It is now a long time since I started this post. There were about three weeks of awful, awful agony as she wrestled with the idea of giving up her 'childhood' home and her dysfunctional family. In that time she threw barbs at me which would pierce the toughest armour. Every flaw in my character, every mistake I had ever made in my life (all of which I have discussed freely over the years, believing that all learning is valuable) was brought back to assault me. I will not pretend the attacks did not hurt. Oh my goodness they hurt. They hurt because generally they were true but also because when I had revealed these 'life lessons' it was with the idea that she might 'learn' from them. I had not really anticipated catching them as a low blow to the stomach. Call me naive.

Since this post The BA has come around. I can almost pinpoint when it happened. She had stormed off to spend the weekend with her boyfriend and on her return she hugged me and said sorry. I don't know what had transpired on that weekend but she came back a changed girl. After weeks of resentment, obstruction, and aggression she returned resolved and cooperative.


So what are my lessons for you, young parents out there with younger kids and the vagaries of life before you?
My answer is: It is a process. It starts when they are tiny and you build, build, build upon it.

Every positive interaction you have with your child early on cements a relationship which will pay you back in spades later.

My relationship with the BA is far from storybook. It is normal and healthy, which involves a fair bit of argy bargy but when all is said and done, this is what she wrote on my Christmas card this year:

Dear Mum
I am sorry I decided to spend Christmas away this year, in hindsight I wish I hadn't. Just wanted you to know that I love you am always here for you no matter the distance. 2015 will be our year to start afresh and kick a***. I love you to the moon and back and appreciate everything you've done for me over the past years. I admire your strength, compassion and selflessness as an individual and your way of always making me feel loved. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year Mum.

(I am not making this up!)

Bits N' Pieces

Today I was thinking that being in a new place and trying to get 'up to speed' is like having someone empty a jigsaw out over your head. All the pieces are being given to you but they make NO sense. After a while you've found the edge pieces and you have a frame; then you look at pieces you've seen before and THIS time they make more sense and you can find a place to slot them in....

I feel there are people who must be saying " But we told her that two weeks ago, why has she only just 'got' it?" It's just that, now I've got a context to hang it on.

My little autistic boy had a bad day the other day. He was kind of limp and unco-operative in the afternoon and had been involved in some kind of ruckus in the boys toilets at lunchtime, which left a lot of paper hand towels strewn about all over the floor. When it came time to leave, Daddy arrived to pick him up. This was a change from the norm; it was usually Grandad. Well, this was too much for him. His eyes welled up, his face crumpled and he began to wail "No, no, I can't." He fell onto his knees and buried his face in the carpet sobbing inconsolably.

This is what a change in routine means for him. It was heart breaking to watch. Daddy handled it really well though. He got down low and asked Henry to look at him, then he explained that everything was ok and that Henry was going to be alright. Even as the wailing continued Henry wrapped his arms around daddy's legs and tearfully waved goodbye to us as he was carried off. It was heart rending.

Meanwhile I am struggling to pitch my Add English classes at the right level and I have to write a whole raft of NEPs. But I AM happy!!!! Off to Port Vincent on the weekend for the State sailing titles. Well, sailing for some of us; beach and quiet reading for others!

General Guff With Gratuitous Bikini Photo and Some Patriotism

Here we are at the beginning of Term 1, week 3. Mum and Dad have made it back to the frozen northern hemisphere whilst we are knee deep in antipodean life and work.

The weather has been hot and steamy in the wake of Cyclone Yasi, even here in good ole Mediterranean Adelaide! We've been having trouble 'balancing' the pool which has lead Himself to roar, on more than one occasion, "I don't know why we don't just fill the thing in!!!"
Nevertheless, as you can see, the BA and her friends have made it up onto the rocks on at least one occasion of late.

Notable events: I have put on nearly all the weight I lost before Christmas and must seriously make an effort to get back to the gym (if you're going to eat potato you have to RUN IT OFF BABY!!!!!!!!!); the Alma Mater has settled down since the first depressing and infuriating day, all the girls seeming more positive, and the BA in particular is loving her classes. OK, maybe not so much Maths, but at least she is doing it and with 5 girls in the class she can ask for all the help she needs, which is a good thing as my Maths skills stop at Year 10 and anyway I never did statistics and Standard Deviation the first time around. As I recall. Or fail to recall. Which ever way you look at it.

More notable events: we went to the First Night at the Proms with Mum and Dad which was fantastic and funny all at the same time. Every seat had a small Union Jack laid ceremonially upon it so that as the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra cranked up "Rule Britannia', all us ex pats and reluctant UK born Aussies could bellow out "Britaaaaaannia ruuuuules the waaaaaaaaves" with gusto whilst waving our little flags for all we were worth.......

What a hoot.

Afterwards we were treated to the vagaries of Adelaide's nocturnal public transport or lack thereof although the BA assured us that it was just as bad in the daytime, particularly in a northerly direction which bemused us as the tram line is a closed loop. We concluded that there must be a black hole at the end of the line, swallowing 3 out of every 4 north going trains. As we trudged the 500 freezing cold metres between stops with father insisting we wait at every shelter,'just in case it's coming', mother looked gloomily down the road and with her characteristic Eeyore like optimism, commented that there may never be another tram ever again. Or if she didn't, she should have; she probably only didn't because we teased her about it. I can guarantee she was THINKING about saying it :-DDDDDD



And on top of all of that my beloved husband and his workmate (spoken with withering sarcasm) finally managed to restore my email to one address after two weeks, so I could pick up the several dozen communications that I knew must be waiting for me. There were 347 of them.

Having deleted most, I am now ready for bed.
Hope you are enjoying February, wherever you are.

Lessons in Life: Shantung Nightmares

Dear Baby Angel
So although I hate to say 'I told you so' (and you and I both know that is a out and out lie), aren't you glad we finally went for Drama, Biology, English, Maths Studies, Media Studies, Psychology and History, and gave Design Textiles a miss? Because after all, if you have to have your mother tell you to unpin all your pattern pieces and fold the fabric in half before you pin them on again, you've got to admit that designing and creating a garment for a Year 11 subject was going to be a challenge. And stressful. Especially for your mother.

But all credit to you. You're determined to learn how to sew. You've selected the dress pattern. You've been committed enough to insist we visit Spotlight straight after two strenuous netball games which resulted in us both squelching in our shoes from the driving rain. You came straight home and started the job. Oh and did I mention you chose this bright red shantung fabric?

Here is the lesson in life. Shantung is an out and out b**** with which to start your sewing career. Most shiny fabrics are. It slips all over the place! That is why is took you over four hours to pin out and cut 5 pattern pieces. That and the fact that you were watching a movie at the same time.

Still, I guess you have a year until your formal so there's no rush although I suspect the dress will be even more out of fashion by then than it already is .

Remember, selvages are the edges of the fabric and the words 'cut on fold' ARE important.

(Year 11 Textiles indeed!!!!!!)

Breathing Deeply Walking Backwards

The last crazy month has seen my blogging drop to an all time low, kept on life support by the weekly challenge of Team Up Thursday. It's funny because my mother often says 'you have to stop doing so much, you have to give something up' and yet, it is those little obligations and commitments that sometimes keep you from going completely over the edge when all around threatens to overwhelm you.When I left the UK in 2002, I was selling my house, finishing up my job and directing and performing in a pantomime, all at the same time. Shortly after the commencement of rehearsals, the girl who had agreed to design and paint sets pulled out due to other commitments and I found myself, on my afternoons off, alone in the church hall painting scenery. I drew up

fantastic fantasy scenes; selected and mixed colours; experimented with textured effects and saw the blank canvases take on shape and form.

Village scene, based on the port of Mousehole in Cornwall.
Note tiny BA concentrating on her dancing 5th from right.

Jungle scene. Yours truly as Robinson Crusoe with man Friday!

The ruined temple with the sensational idol painted by a dear friend who'd 'never done anything like this before...'

Often this activity would be sandwiched between work and picking the BA up from school. There would be a rushed trip back to Grandma's and then I was back to the hall to finish up the painting. My mother, left in charge of feeding and organising the BA would say to me "You take on too much. You're running yourself ragged! You

need to take some time for yourself," and one day I replied, "Mum, this painting IS the thing I'm doing for myself". It's kind of like that with blogging, and especially the Team Up challenge. Yes, I could lose it and focus on the endless list of 'jobs to do' and perhaps I would achieve more, but at what cost? Anyway, on my second 'child free' night I find myself moved to fill you in on some of the things that have been occupying me in the last month.

The list of jobs can wait.

Let me start with the Baby Angel. This moniker is becoming less and less apt as her 15th birthday approaches

and she unfolds her glorious wings. I can't believe that two years ago I titled this photo 'Grown Up':

look at this:

But of course, with this unfolding and emerging comes the inevitable pain.

The new school has brought, as we had hoped, more academic rigour and a better atmosphere for study but this has been a difficult transition for the BA. Gone are the days of goofing off in class and 'I did my homework at

school'. There have been a few ' notes in the diary'; you know, the 'BA has not handed up her assignment' kind of notes >:-(. As well as chasing the 50% of my classes who do not believe a due date has any meaning beyond a

point at which you ask for an extension, I have to hound the BA to ensure she is up to date with work. It's not that she's lazy, no, and parents bear this in mind, it is that she has such high expectations of herself that she is afraid to start. It's like being at the bottom of a mountain and looking up at what you have to conquer. It's

daunting. Easier not to start. So imagine her excitement and pride when a recent piece of writing for English earned her this:

I'm not sure if you can see it but it is the marking rubric for narrative writing. (The BA's school does the International Baccalaureate (IB) and the Middle Years Program leading up to it. Like many senior programs

nowadays, assessment is all about rubrics.) Out of 10, she got 10. In every criterion! But the effort is on-going. I

aim to scaffold her organisation until she can take over herself and manage her workload.

In the third to last week of term reports were due. They have moved them up the calendar because people have been notoriously poor at getting them in on time. In the same week my beloved sister came for a 5 day visit and at the beginning of the week the Business Manager called to say the auditors had announced their annual visit for Wednesday of that week so could I please have all my accountability stuff ready....on the same day reports were due. I'm afraid something had to give and my sister took precedence. The reports were late.

We got through that.

In the last two weeks of term I had the financial nightmare from Hell. Taxman, Child Support Agency demands,

an car insurance claim against me from July last year (check it out July!!!!), and the classic catch 22 situation from the TAFE mob:

"Behold thy application for payment of fees by installment has been rejected because you do not have sufficient income. Thou must instead pay the whole amount up front."
????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
Yeah right, cos I've certainly got enough income to do THAT!

We are working our way through all of that.

And then the holidays descended upon us. An enormous relief to be sure. There was time to check out the Northern Lights with A Free Family. It was a little more garish than the subtle and clever illuminations of 2008.

But still, a lovely evening with the excitement of young Boy Z an effervescent a tonic for the soul.

Yes, it all should have been relaxing except that in the first week I had both the kids at home.
To be fair, the BA on her own is fairly low maintenance, until you try and prise her off facebook, but Small Boy is an entirely different matter. He has two mates on the street and they inevitably end up at our place playing X Box. Now I have a conscientious objection to X Box and in particular the amount of time young boys today spend on the thing and even though the Small Boy and his mates are not actually mine I cannot, as a responsible adult, allow them to play for endless hours without a break. So my holiday consists of fighting with 11 years olds about whether they need to take a break from the X Box and why that break cannot involve moving to the computer and starting up a game of AdventureQuest or scooting once around the block and why it is important that they have other skills for playing in the real world; like building forts or making Lego towns and playing Cluedo or swear words Scrabble or something!!! And let me tell you, 11 year old boys do not thank you for your concern about their development and healthy lifestyle. To be equally fair, the same thing applies to trying to prise the BA off facebook lately. Especially since her dad bought her an ipodtouch!

What was he thinking???????

In the midst of all the battles there are little glimmers of joy.

This is my breakfast in bed, cooked for no reason and with no prompting by the Small Boy. Unfortunately it was delivered to us at 7.17am when we were sound asleep but hey! let's not look a gift horse in the mouth! In particular I would like to point out the smiley face made out of tomato sauce on the underside of the bread!
The Small Boy is starting to grow into his years, slowly but surely. Not having had boys myself I am a bit of a novice on the whole developmental thing for them but I can see that they mature more slowly than girls and when we compare what the BA did at the same age it is a pretty damning picture. To compound the problem, he is the youngest of five by 7 years with all the attendant baggage this brings. But lately, little gestures like the breakfast, and rudimentary attempts at room cleaning, suggest a growing maturity. And not a moment too soon. :-D

I just wish he would get a decent hair cut!

In the midst of our holidays, Mum and Dad have sold their house here in Australia. For the past 8 years they have been coming backwards and forwards to see us, spending the summer here and returning for spring and summer in the UK. Their house, with its little garden, has been left locked up or given to a variety of house-sitters to mind. This has cause my mother some anxiety over the years and she's decided that she can no longer cope with maintaining two households on opposite sides of the Earth. They got the price they wanted quite quickly and then

it was time to decide what to do with everything in the house. I put in my 'dibs', as it were, on a few items but after that they were prepared to leave things in the house or give them to charity. Having had some experience with how reluctant charities are to actually pick up furniture I suggested we put things on ebay. Thus I have spent the last week glued to ebay to see how our items were doing :-)

This has been my first experience of selling through ebay as I am usually the purchaser. It's quite addictive isn't it? We have sold four items, two did very well and two were 'bargains'. We're in the process of organising pickups and whatever now. Of course I have also had to clear and sort our place in order to make room for the new stuff coming in from mum and dad's so my mind has been pretty well occupied with furniture for the last week.

The Baby Angel flew out to Sydney on Monday. Here she is with her Grandma at the airport.

You have no idea how difficult it is to get my mother to smile for a photo.

BA: Smile Grandma
Mum: I am smiling
BA: Show your teeth
(on this command my mother, in a rather confused fashion bared her teeth somewhat like a gnarly rottweiler)
Us: hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhaahahahahhaah
Me: MOTHER! What are you doing?
Mum: Well, she said...
Me: Mother, it's not as if you've never had a photo taken before!!!!!!!!!

Honestly.

Thanks for your patience folks.

PS: I have reposted this after some problems with formatting but this unfortunately meant I lost the lovely comments from Elisa, JoLyn and Jill. Sorry ladies. I value and appreciate your comments.

Tiny Blogaholic Fix

It's 2.58pm. In about 20 minutes I have to pick the BA up from school and then go to the gym. I must do this second part because my clothes do not fit me any more. At 5.20pm or so, I will be retrieving my parents from the airport after their trip to Tassie. After that we'll go back to my place and one of us (perhaps Himself) will make dinner and we will talk about their trip. I will take them home later. I will help the BA with homework and see her off to bed. Then, somewhere between then and tomorrow morning, I will prepare work for my 4 classes tomorrow, mark homework, make a spreadsheet for Sports Carnival next Wednesday and hopefully sleep. Whatever, I will not have time for blogging. Which is why I'm getting my fix now........

A small note on the BA's Swimming Carnival last night. My alma mater is not a swimming school it appears. We had one first place the whole evening and many lasts :-) Oh well. The BA was only in one race, the 4x50m freestyle relay, and she held her own. As I said to her, imagine what you could have done if you had been training!!!!! I'm trying to think of a way to get her into a training pattern. Maybe early morning swims at a local pool on the train line and a train trip to school afterwards? It would get me up earlier too. It would not get me into the pool however.

Adios Amigos!!

Learning To Quilt

In a belated Crafty Tuesday (Carrie hasn't even posted herself I noticed!!) I thought I'd show you what I've been working on. With the sunset of The Musical and the mammoth job of packing up 'the sweatshop' I have been suffering from sewing withdrawal. I always had it in the back of my mind that I might be able to do something with the scraps of material left over from the orphan costumes; they were chosen as a 'palette' and they were essentially quilting materials so the obvious choice was to try quilting with them!

Now I have dabbled in many crafts over the years: sewing, knitting, embroidery, cross stitch, raffia work (thanks to my Grade 5 teacher), pottery, decoupage, origami and even tie-dye but I've never attempted quilting. I know nothing about it! A quick consultation of my 'Traditional Country Crafts' book was in order. There was mention of wadding and running stitch and even cutting a template for 'blocks' but the whole section was a little thin and there was nothing about patchwork and the various kinds of patchwork options you could toy with. So, where to next?

Of course my beautiful friend the Quilting Queen from Jindabyne is no longer with us so I couldn't go there for advice (ouch, grief kind of catches up with you doesn't it?)...but wait! I have an awesome friend right here in Adelaide who is the Doyenne of Quilting! She bestowed upon us a wonderful quilt for our wedding/housewarming and, when I was picking The BA up from swimming years ago, could always be seen with a needle in hand waiting for one of her brood to emerge from the pool. The obvious choice. I made arrangements for coffee and quilting advice.

On Monday we met for coffee and I brought the bag containing all my off cuts. I also brought a pathetic sketch of the kind of thing I had in mind and she was most gracious in refraining from laughing out loud at my naivety. "Right," she said,"You're going to need some tools and a visit to my place for some lessons." Errrrrr......tools? What do you need apart from scissors and thread?

Oh foolish Arizaphale.

By the end of the afternoon I had purchased a rotary cutter and quiting ruler.

I 'passed' on the cutting mat as I thought Himself had one at home and I had arranged for a demo session the following morning. There is a lot more to quilting than I thought. *sheepish grin* Like, did you know that the easiest way to sew two triangles together is to put two squares face to face, rule a diagonal line from corner to corner, sew 1/4 inch either side of that line and then cut down the line? Voila! Press open and you have two squares formed by triangles! (I may do a photo tute on this later...it is so clever and my 'Traditional Country Crafts' book did not mention it at all!!!)

We ended up spending a lovely couple of hours yesterday, me mastering the rotary cutter and her sewing little blocks together for me. I'm on my own now.......wish me luck!

Gender Differences: Lesson 4: Showers

Girls:

Put the bucket under the faucet to collect the runoff as you warm up the hot water.

Set the shower timer for 2 mins (straight wash) or 4 mins (hairwash). Once a week allow an extra minute for shaving legs.

Turn on the extractor fan.

Enter the shower and allow approx 15 secs for luxuriating under the red hot needles of cleanliness.

Choose the appropriate product from the range of shampoos/conditioners/colourlock/facial scrub and bodywash available.

Deftly and expertly apply and remove products. Step out of shower just after the timer goes off but not before wiping off excess moisture so as not to drip too much.

Dry off, hang up towel and turn off extractor fan.

Check butt in mirror.

Boys:

Blunder into bathroom. Ensure faithful cat has followed you.

Turn on shower. Fiddle excessively with taps until temp is correct. Realise you have forgotten to use the bucket and swear to remember next time.

Get into shower and wonder what that annoying digital thing on the wall is and why you feel vaguely guilty when you look at it.

Allow approximately 15 minutes for luxuriating under the red hot needles of cleanliness.

Realise you have run out of time and are meant to be leaving for work soon. Fumble through selection of containers in shower recess and choose one that may or may not be bodywash.
Wash.

Consider shampooing hair but remember that you have to leave the shampoo on for 3 minutes and then there's conditioner and after all, this shower is a waste of valuable water resources.

Decide not to bother with the shampoo.

Shave.

Drift off again and allow another 5 minutes for luxuriating under the red hot needles of cleanliness.

Finally turn off taps and step immediately out into the bathroom dripping as much water as possible.

Glance in mirror but realise it is completely steamed up through failure to engage extractor fan. Engage extractor fan. Start to dry off whilst waiting for mirror to clear. Give up on the wait, after all who needs to see to comb your hair?

Leave the room ensuring that the extractor fan is still running.

Throw wet towel on the bed.

Gender Differences: Lesson 3: Easter Picnics

Girls:

Pore over cookbooks the day before and select delicious recipes for potato salad and meatloaf. Pack the car with blankets, chairs, hampers and chilled wine. Make arrangements to meet wonderful friends and bring beloved parents.

Notice a grassy spot overhung with willows and surrounded by other groups of happy picnickers with the additional bonus of available car parks. Grit your teeth as you are driven past this spot.

Set up blankets and chairs in a secluded location and proceed to lay out the delightful and varied efforts of your culinary labour. Serve your beloved family and share with wonderful friends. Sit back and enjoy a glass of wine on a perfect day (not too hot, not too cold) with delightful company and conversation, cute kids and a walk in the bush. Joyfully spot the occasional emu/rabbit/kangaroo/freight train or squirrel depending on your interest and level of delusion.

Boys:

Reluctantly agree to attend. Hide confusion and disappointment when you realise that Girls want to have a 'Tailgate Picnic Feast' (TM) rather than a barbie. Reluctantly place all items, determined by Girls to be essential, into the car. Pack all items you deem essential into the car.
Complain about the amount of stuff being transported.

Arrive at park. Drive past a grassy spot overhung with willows and surrounded by other groups of happy picnickers with the additional bonus of available car parks. Too many people. Fail to notice Girls' disappointment.

Locate a quiet, out of the way place with no other people around (in order that you can commune with nature) and ensure it has more prickles and high weeds than any other similar location. Unload essential items.Gratefully accept some namby pamby food from wife, wonder why there is v little meat in the meatloaf and commence bluetooth connection for next phase of the Great Ocean Challenge Thingy >:-(

Realise you cannot get an internet connection in this secluded, natural location.

Make hurried apologies and drive off in a cloud of dust 'looking for a high spot'; search fruitlessly for an hour; decide to go home and make the connection leaving family stranded in the National Park and carrying numbers of essential items in the car with you (eg tissues/handbags). Return an hour and a half later and wonder why the car is packed and everyone ready to leave within 10 minutes of your arrival.

Make sheepish apologies to Girls for three days afterwards.

Gender Differences: Lesson 2: Hanging Out Washing

Girls:

Take washing out of machine as quickly as possible and, if necessary, remove the tufts of tissue distributed throughout. Hang as quickly as possible to avoid mouldy smell ensuing. Hang each item separately, socks from toes, trousers from waistbands etc in order that air may circulate and clothes dry quickly and avoid fading in the sun. Gather in when dry.

Boys:

Leave clothes in washing machine until you happen to pass by the laundry. If mould ensues, rewash. When you remember, hang washing out: fold each item in half over the line and peg through the middle. Multiple items to one peg saves time. Wait for two weeks while washing dries. Complain loudly that you have no clothes, completely failing to notice the large pile of clean, dry folded clothing your stepmother has removed from the line and sat on the dining room table for two weeks.

Gender Differences: Lesson 1: Easter Luxuries

For Girls:

Sitting on a squashy sofa eating chocolate for breakfast, knitting(me) or cutting out pictures from magazines(BA) and watching all three series of 'Roswell' back to back.

For Boys:

Sitting in your newly cleaned out shed with your laptop, a cigar and a steaming mug of freshly ground coffee (or two), footy on the radio and the next leg of the Virtual Yacht Race on your screen.

Lessons in Life: Cooking

Dearest Baby Angel

This is your mother speaking.

Have I told you recently what a wonderful kid you are?How blessed I am to have you? How much joy you bring to your family and friends?

Good, because tonight I have to put on my other mother hat and give you some of that sage advice for which mothers/fathers are well known. You know the kind of thing:

Let sleeping dogs lie.

Never eat yellow snow.

Don't cross your eyes in case the wind changes.

and the ubiquitous

Always wear clean knickers in case you are hit by a bus.

Yes, tonight I am going to give you some advice regarding cooking (a rare gem indeed).

Are you ready?
You will thank me for this in later life.

When making a marbled chocolate cake for your friend's birthday, if the recipe calls for vegetable oil, avoid using this.


Unless you are after that herbal, hippie flavour.

Never mind, I am sure she will love it anyway.