na na na na, na na na na na na na na na, na na na na, yeah

NYE

from www.monpetitcupcake.com

Is it too late for mistletoe? I never got a Christmaskiss.

Happy New Year, everyone.

 Axl's not gigging tonight, so he's coming home to Jules Holland and non-celebration. Which is a little awkward, interrupting as it will my usual NYE ritual of half arsed working and crying. I'm really not sure what the protocol is. A polite handshake at midnight? A surly nod, a cynical wish for a happy and prosperous new year? Would it be rude to go be online, and talking to someone else in the other room? I'm sure it would, but the alternative isn't much jollier. Maybe it will all just balance out and we'll see what happens. . 

soreness

Last night, I suddenly got a pain in the side of my heel. I think I managed to snap or pull something by just sitting cross legged on the couch?? It was painful, hard to walk on. A bit red in one spot under the skin. I was reluctant to believe it could be so bad from ... nothing, so I just went to bed on it.

Woke  up from a dream where Joey Tribiani was commiserating with for thinking it was morning when it was 3am - looked at clock to discover it was indeed just after 3, and my foot was hurting and throbbing and hot and swollen. I hobbled downstairs for ice and a bandage and remedies. Ones for swelling and tearing and throbbing pain.

Took aaaages to go back to sleep again - I'm getting more hypocondriac, and  was having visions of various places on me doing this spontaneously due to some evil disease. I woke up again at 5 and retook the remedies and drifted off again til much later than I intended, given the fact that I had to go run a stupid errand.

I bought a gorgeous, soft wool shoulder bag in M&S the day before yesterday - took it out once and the stud holding the strap popped and it fell in a puddle :( They said they couldn't hold sale items for me to exchange so I emailed the store in disappointment and the manager but one by for me. Always complain! Now I hope this one won't have the same flaw. It's so cuddly. It's huggable. I wish I could knit a boyfriend out of the same wool.

So what is with my foot? I'm hoping it continues to get better.

Happy New Year to you all. I will be working and watching Jules Holland on my own, as usual. 

amusing story for the generously-arse among us

Or possibly for you lean bastards to laugh at.

Whatever.

Once Axl bought me a blue bike for Christmas. It was great but the seat was soooo sore. Too sore to cycle on, really. So I went back to see if they had a comfier one. The bike shop guy was a bit sceptical. I explained I just wanted something a bit broader, a bit comfier. He went away and came back with what he said was the biggest one they had. A black, wide seat with springs in the back, for suspension. Great!

The only problem was, on the back, in gold writing, was written the words...

Big Bertha


Yup. Big Bertha rides again.

Well, I did on Christmas Eve when I had to whizz down and collect the car I'd abandoned the night before. And omg - Axl's bike seat is seriously in need of Big Bertha-izing. Ow! Deep tissue bruised girl places! I don't know how his delicate places stand it.

I wish you reading time. I am sneaking time to read and eat sweeties. I am cooking stuffing and cabbage. We are chill. I should have gone for a Christmas Walk in the blustery blowy day. But... instead, reading time.

I won't have much time in the next couple weeks, assuming I get to keep this work, so my guilty pleasure, the last Eragon book, will have to wait. I got Hugh FWs veggie book - flicked through it this morning and my mouth literally watered. Looking forward to cooking from that. But I got a Laurel K Hamilton book form the recycling the other day, and it's great, one of the Grave series, not the vampire ones. Gripped. Psychics and serial killers. I do adore trashy Christmas reading.

I hope you get some too. 

Happy Christmas, everybody

I'm finding it spectacularly hard to be sentimental and Christmassy this year. I want to wish you all joy and gladness and so on but my attitude is all wrong. And yet, I just had a lovely afternoon with my  godparents, I called in to my father's house and his wife showed us her tree, all perfect in the beautiful sitting room, and I nearly teared up with longing to have that place again. I am a woman of base materialistic desires. I wish I had access to that beauty. I want good wine and cheese plates and lovely things and to do it all effortlessly. I wish I had a place of my own to feel sentimental about without it being sad, with people there to look after me. And thirdly, I ... well, I guess I'm missing people an awful lot more at Christmas time, longing for closeness and celebration surrounded in a fairly light twinkly glow. Cheeeeesey.

I just got an email from work. They expect the 540 exams I picked up on Tuesday to be corrected and returned (included all the checked and and adjusted grades) and returned to them by the 2nd of January. Happy Christmas to me, eh? I need the money... but I just don't think I can do that. Don't know if I can give half back or if they'll take them all away. Mm. Feeling worried about this.

Oh well, now we'll have sushi, maybe decorate some cookies and please god, go to bed so I can do some cooking and wrapping.

Have fun, everyone. xx

hobbit houses

I think I blogged this before, but... worthy of a reblog! 

So beautiful. I would live here. Though I don't think one solar panel would really do, but hey...

The Hobbit is coming, it will be here next December - I have a year to get Bodhi read through it, I will rise to the challenge, I want to bring both the kids to see... oooooo! 

dream adjustment

This morning I dreamed that Axl and I went to an osteopath. He may have been something of a leprechaun osteopath, judging by the photos we looked at in his office, but I don't know that that's relevant. I waited in the car for Axl and the osteo came out and talked to me - he reached through the window (I get this a lot in dreams, things happening through car windows) and fiddled with my shoulder. Then he located a point on the back of my neck and applied pressure, and in the dream my spine was flooded with a warm orgasmic relief and good feeling that flowed about half way down to the bottom of my ribs. It was delicious. I have to admit, my back was much better for the first half of the day, whether that was related or not. We should be able to heal ourselves in dreams... if we can have orgasms, surely a bit of healing is possible too?

Really, though, I wish I could feel that feeling again. The actual sensation of being adjusted osteopathically is far from pleasant. It's fairly unpleasant, I don't like it.

Though the last time I went to the Craniosacral osteopath, feeling my hip finally releasing was quite interesting. They don't do much manipulation, they just rest their hand flat, palm up, under your sacrum, and make tiny adjustments. It took a while, but finally, my right leg, which is always shorter than my left because of my pelvis being so misaligned and my sacrum pushing into soft tissue there etc, well, it let go. I could feel a sudden loosening, and a sensation like my right leg was growing about six inches longer. It just went on and on, it was quite amazing.

The sad thing is, I need to go back often, once isn't enough to hold, and to counter all the everyday stuff that damages it, and I end up back where I started fast.

When I can though, I'll go to a guy my friend is really happy with, someone you check in with every day for a month or so after your initial readjusting, which sounds like exactly what I need.

I've had back problems since I was 18, initiated by the horrible chairs I spent a year sitting in while I repeated my Leaving, and compounded completely by pregnancy. And sitting in this chair I'm in right now, and not exercising enough. Though I went for a walk the other day, and have been totally fucked since. Sigh.   Backs and knees. Design flaws... 

inettiquette

My granny sits in her chair in front of the fire, black Crocs on her feet. She doesn't hear the nice lady who's staying the night with her, Margaret, the lady who comes to bathe her on Fridays. I'd asked her about her ankle, recovering from a break sustained while line-dancing.

'Why did you get the red ones?' my grandmother asks, mistaking Margaret's gesturing at her ankle as pointing towards the woman's own red Crocs. 'Were they on sale?'

I have to laugh, at her perfect insult, at the idea that red Crocs are gauche while black ones are acceptable. Of course, they're acceptable ,when you're ninety four with swollen ankles and all the rest. But there's still no call to be rude :)

Christmas moment

I wish I had something pretty to offer you. I feel so defeated and worn down at the moment. My heart is not glad. I want to write something real for the first time in ages, butwhenI think about it, whingy emo crap just bubbles up.

I've dragged something fine out of my head, though.

When I went shopping in the shopping centre last week and had a materialist fest for the kids, I was walking back to the car (well, ok, I was wandering round a little bit in the process of finding my car, the way I do) and walking up past me was a Polish family, maybe, young, young kids, and the big tall dad was carrying one small child sideways. All I could see sticking out from under his arm was a furry padded hood and a smiley little face. They were having a loud, happy, laughing repetitive conversation that I couldn't understand, but it sounded like the universal, 'You're a sack of potatoes/NO YOU'RE a sack of potatoes' type banter you get in these situations. It was very cute, all the moreso for not being in English. 

please Santa, do my maths for me?

I don't know where I put the Christmas cards. Given that it's Christmas in a week, I feel this is a sign that I won't be sending any this year.

I have work to finish. Must do work.

I've got the brief for the correcting I'll be doing over the holiday - I have grade according to the state exam curve. Which means working out percentages of grades and sticking to them. ie forcing the grades I give to match them. FFS. It's going to force me to do maths. MATHS. I can't stand it. Also, it will add countless hours to a task that's always a bit hysterical at the best of times. Bangs head off wall*

It makes me slightly sick that the school are buying into the grade manipulation that the State does. We want to be getting rid of this exam, not adopting more of its practices. The administration a teacher has to do is getting more like the workload in England and it's soul destroying.

Oh Universe, can I just get a teaching job again, please?

I have to put a job application in the post tomorrow. The post. Why, school? Why no email? I haven't got any job interviews this year, but I have to keep trying, I guess. But the process... my printer is broken - I have another one to use but I have to go get ink. Then post it. Bah. BAH.

definitive insult of the day

Bodhi, coming downstairs very angry, shouting back up at his sister,

You're a big fudge poo!

whoopsie

Slight Chili powder miscalculation. Ah well, you live and learn. And my pipes are being cleaned as we speak. 

My Big Bumper Book Of Christmas Failures

I am extremely pleased by this concept I've just conceptualised. I shall be adding to the list as I go...

topping it now is not getting any cards done or posted, and not yet having sent a little parcel to the States so it will arrive Too Late For Christmas.

My cousin doesn't want us to feel burdened by the gift exchange anymore, and has lapsed out of touch to the point where she no longer responds to emails. Sentimental me, though, I used to love her mother's wonderful big parcels so much, I would have loved to continue that tradition for our kids. I suppose her mother had a lot more money and free time to play with, though, than we do. It's a pity, though, I feel.

I swear - next year, November. November I will organise this stuff and have a big book of Christmas Triumphs. Heh.

Hmm. Strange little side note: My sister messaged me to tell me she's been experimenting with her gf's Ritalin and thinks she has ADHD. It's helped her have confidence. She thinks it could help me too. I won't deny I have all the symptoms on the list she sent me, but my gut feeling is, if I took some cocaine, I'd be more confident too.

Thoughts?

Update: Just to clarify, here is why I mentioned cocaine in connection with Ritalin. I also heard that it's still an experinmental drug, and it was being prescribed for 6 months only, but no one can face the symptoms and so don't come off it. I'm all for people being able to function, but I think there may be other places to look too. 

things on my list

I keep clicking open a New Tab as if the thing I need to read or look at will suddenly present itself to me. It's like staring into the fridge for internet addicts, I guess. I'm feeling a little bit panic attacky tonight. I'm a little bit overloaded. Olivia's being a bitch again, Bodhi is terrified to go to sleep alone anymore and sits in bed crying (I can't do it!!!) and I can't seem to find space or energy to find solutions for them because my heart is beating too fucking hard and someone seems to be standing on my throat. I've been a shitty mother tonight. Things were going well, too. I've just read an article on PND that's made me feel awful, somehow. Not better.

But. I'm going to go make 6 banana breads. And breathe. And maybe get some more correcting done while they bake.

because I love you

Well, because it tasted so good I feel I should share:

Egg Mayonaisse de Jo:

Boil eggs til well cooked. Hard.

Take out yolks and mash up.
Add some paprika, cayenne pepper, celery seed, wholegrain mustard and salt n pepper.
Mash up some more.
Add mayo to your liking. Less is more.
Mix.

Um. That's it. But it tastes so good.

I love this on soda type bread, or black bread, or rice cakes or whatever you like best, but nothing too soft. Needs a wee bit of chew.

And. Tastes GREAT with something pickled and crunchy. Like pickles. But I just had it with sauerkraut and it was wunderbar.

It makes a lovely lunch for when you're busy. Nom nom.


Fermented food is very good for you. That's all I'll say for now.

Christmas? Hormones?

EVERYTHING is making me cry. The sentimentality. I'm exhausted by it. I wish it would stop. 

poem reprised from trash

My boots have sprung a leak

I thought they'd see out the year

I guess they were too cheap

But good ones are too dear

Man may not live by bread alone

But Girls have certain needs

And even  those with hearts of stone

appreciate dry feets.

*I wasn't going to post this, because - well, you can see why :) But I just read a thing suggesting we should edit less and create more, write a poem everyday. So feck it.

so today I had one of my stupid moments

I know I've mentioned this recently, but I really do think the dyspraxia affects it ... the other day I was making sushi. Put the rice in the water, then realised I should have rinsed it first. I walked towards the sink holding the pan of rice and water and a seive. As I neared the sink, I tipped the pan contents into the seive. Onto the floor. In days of old I might have berated myself for this and felt like a moron stupid head, but these days I think hmm, synapses not connecting right, maybe.

So today, I hustled the kids out of the house to get Olivia to art and arrived half an hour too early. Forgot it was 4.30, not 4. I saw the teacher's car was there and wondered if they were in setting up, would it be ok to drop her off early instead of hanging around. The teacher's a sweetie man Olivia gets on really well with, and he was fine with that, though as I was leaving he said, 'yeah, it's fine, Phil (the other teacher) will be here in a minute.' I walked out of the hall, and as I was descending the steps, with Bodhi, in the rain, my little brain cogs started moving. Why did he tell me that? Duh. It's because teachers aren't meant to be all alone with children. For everyone's protection. I'm a teacher, I know you're not meant to be a in a room with a kid with the door closed, or alone with them. And I'd just left my 8 year old alone in a building with a male teacher. Or, left him alone with an 8 year old, which ever way you want to look at it. I'd put him in a completely unfair, and not exactly legal position.

THEN I started thinking, well, he seems like such a nice guy. But that doesn't mean anything. Ohh, God. But he's been vetted in order to work with them. But that doesn't mean anything. Do I go back in and wait? Do I tell him I realise that wasn't fair? Will it seem like I'm accusing him of being a child molester? What if he is a child molester! GAH!

So yeah, I left it. And wandered round with my head whirling a little.

After class, I went back in and apologised for being an idiot. He said, yeah, he found himself instantly opening all the doors, but he thought, well, I know Olivia pretty well at this stage (meaning, she's not likely to falsely accuse me of anything) and I knew Phil was on his way in.

So I felt better that his focus was on procedure and teacher protection than me calling him a child molester.

God, I'm a terrible parent, though. Do we have to be paranoid? Or just cautiously suspicious of everyone all the time. I suppose we do. I hate it though, I'm sure I've said that before. Not that that makes any difference to the way I should be protecting my kids. Yeesh. 

sniff shots

Hmm, that sounds a bit perverse, doesn't it?

In the car today, waiting for Olivia to finish art class: I went to the Health Food shop (shout out to Nature's Gold in Greystones, people, it's great and competitive) and bought some Stuff. Veggie gelatin in case I feel like making marshmallows. Hmm. Not confident. GF crackers. Spices. Couple nice things.

In the car I took the lid off the Sauerkraut I'd bought (with juniper berries). I offered Bodhi a sniff and he was intrigued. His little face contorted - Yukky!

The for the good one:

Neilsson Massey Chocolate extract. I've been toying with the idea of buying some, want the almond one too. Oh my god. I held it under Bodhi's nose in the car in the dark. He inhaled and inhaled and inhaled, then collapsed back against his car seat with an ecstatic expression. OHMYGOD THAT IS SO GOOD. He asked for another whiff and his eyes rolled. Heh. Cuteness.

Olivia did exactly the same thing when she got back to the car. Chocolate extract for the win, people, it's so lovely. 

Treed!

I'm alarmed - the tree looked much straighter not in a photo. Ah well. It's a good un this year, though it never comes out quite right on film. I wish I could still find colouredy glowy cherry lights though, I miss them so much. That last string was from Habitat in 1994, I think. Amazing. 

Yuletide whinge

Every year, it's the same. This time of year, I'd like to be baking, crafting, planning, gifting, decorating.

And I'm always working frantically, stressed about money, trying to cram in shopping instead of making carefully crafted, delightful handmade gifts for the people who I'd like to know I care about. If that syntax is decipherable at all. I'd love to go to Ikea and buy Christmassy things and little jars to put delectable home made treats in. Time and money.

Never mind that, I'd like to send some Christmas cards instead of stressing about time and stamps. Last year I even wrote, adressed and stamped some but didn't get to the post office, largely because of the snow. I'd like to be buying extra presents for the charities. I'd like to be having friends over or even going to parties. I've pretty much never gone to parties, though it's all good because I don't have time or anything to wear!

Arg, it's all frustrating. Back to my correcting I go.

free associating

This morning as I was driving, my thoughts strayed to the idea of driving over a stick which would be driven into the air and through the back of a portly, middle aged man walking up the footpath on the opposite side of the road. I hadn't brought my phone with me: who would call an ambulance. Is sorry good enough, for something that was absolutely not your fault, yet done by your agency alone?

That led me to wonder if it's safer to be stabbed in the stomach if you're fat or toned - what protects internal organs more, belly fat or muscle?

Do everyone's thoughts wander to these places, or is it just strange to be me?

In other areas my thoughts had led me somewhere deeply fearful. I must be wrong... but what if it's right? What's more likely, a miracle or a disaster? I worked myself up into an awful state but last night, a message, worst fears unfounded, all is well enough. And it was like the sun coming out and shining warm relief and gratitude in place of that awful dark fear. I wish I could stop the thoughts, sometimes, and just see what comes. 

advice, please

I live with my husband who is no longer my husband, but is. We haven't really managed our arrangement very well, carrying on with the tested and failed practice of not dealing with anything or each other.

Lots of things he does are driving me insane, just as they did when we had claim to a relationship. I now, however, no longer have the right to ask him to avoid those behaviours and it's even harder to attempt to work together in any way.

My real whinge is, that I can't get it off my chest by writing about it here any more, because I don't feel I've the right to do that either, if I ever did. Maybe I didn't. But when I say get it off my chest, I reallly mean it literally, it builds up into a pressure that makes it harder to breathe. What's the right outlet?

Oh. I should exercise. Of course. Well,. right. Thank you. 

love this

Babies' and mothers' hearts synchronise by smiling :) 

not knowing what you've got til it's gone - but I did

I was reading some snow posts from last year and the year before. I don't seem to be able to write anymore. The thoughts are all gone. I'm sorry. I don't give good blog anymore.

I miss that. And I really miss the comments and chat. I was very bogged down in how sad it all was but my blog social life was good and meant a lot to me. The excitement of posts and comments. And, not to put too fine a point on it, an internet relationship that, while painful, meant a lot to me and made up for a lot. There was a lot of excitement in the day, waiting to see what would come up via posts and comments and chat. And for the last few months, my blogland friendship has been missing due to illness and all is extremely uncertain, and I miss it so much and I'm so worried but such is the nature of distance and the way things roll that I don't know what's going on and my god but I miss the days when everyone blogged and commented and laughed. Now the laughter is missing too.

I wanted to say I was lucky to have that, and I did know it at the time, it saved me. It's feeling a little bleak and lonely right now. I know things like blogs change - you can't sustain it forever, and that's natural. I wish I could sustain the writing though - sometimes I look at old posts and cringe, but some of them I think, oh no, where has that gone? I hope it comes back. I hope it will all be ok.

And... wow - let's end with the thought that there's always someone worse off than you -

what the hell are they thinking?

Seriously, the world's gone MAD.

Lithium in the water supply, anyone?  And we were worried about fluoride. 

trouble making oneself understood

Dyspraxia in adults can create challenges with everyday activities and expectations. Driving is often difficult. Cleaning and cooking can be demanding, as can remembering appointments. Dyspraxic adults can also have difficulty controlling the pitch and articulation of their voice and are easily misunderstood by others.


Yep. 


However, as I waited about  3years before taking it, I passed my driving test first time! Unlike some more accomplished drivers I know... I have driven into quite a lot of things since, of course. 

photos

Tell me which one struck you most. 

astounding

Someone told me about his on Tuesday. A doctor of the brain had a stroke, and analysed it from the inside. I'm just amazed. She's wonderful. 

I love you baby!

http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/photo-contest/2011/entries/122254/view/

She's screaming 'I LOVE YOU, BABY!' as he comes out. I love it. What a fantastic woman, the shape of her!

I like this so much - I definitely called Olivia out as she was taking so long, though with Bodhi it was more of a hold on not yet not yet!

I don't like how no one's looking after her perineum, though.  I really wish there was more of that, generally!