Thursday 9th August 2013: Keswick

It's over 24 hours since my parents left our beautiful apartment in Keswick. We are are really missing them although I am happy that there are 2 less people to compete against for the red chair in the bay window. A red, mock-leather single chair set against a sash window where you can watch the world and its wife walking by.

Whether walking towards Keswick town-centre or preparing for a day walking on the Lakeland fells, you can peacefully people-watch from that window all day. Actually, 'peacefully' is a little bit of an exaggeration when you have 2 children under 4 years old running around, also peering out of the window and asking why that "bad man is being shouted at by that angry woman". It was difficult to explain to Bethan why these people were having a domestic and beating each other with their Ordnance Survey maps. 

Rob, the assigned cartographer expert for our trip did try to explain to our daughter that "rookies often have this inflamatory argument when hill-walking for the first-time" an answer which seemed to confuse but satisfy her as she immediately asked afterwards if she could watch 'Princess Stories' for the zillionth time.

Yes, it was obvious that although we didn't want as frenetic a week as we did in Consiton, like wise, we didn't want to sit in our Keswick apartment all day people-watching and listening to Princess Jasmine telling us, yet again, how wonderful bloody Aladdin is.

The Red Chair. A Source of competitiveness
as well as a source of some serious
 people-watching

Keswick really is my idyllic place. Rob and I allowed ourselves some me-time whilst in the Northern Lakes. I chose to spend that time in an antique bookshop searching out original Beatrix Potter books. Rob used his me-time to wonder along the fells and take some breath-taking pictures of some breath-taking landscapes. 

Indeed, I found a copy of Beatrix Potter's "Tale of Pigling Bland" in the book shop which I was thrilled with because it was the 100th anniversary of its first publishing. Usually, it is very difficult to date Ms Potter's books as you have to look at the art work on the inside to ascertain when it might have been published. However, I knew this was from 1942 as inscribed it said, "To my beautiful daughter, love Daddy, 1942". 

There are lots of reasons why people are against writing in books but this particular inscription set my imagination on fire. In 1942 the Allies were being pummeled by the Nazis. Was this a final gift from a father to his daughter whilst on leave from the War? Was this a gift simply to celebrate her birthday? All of that night I kept wondering about who bought the book and who the book was intended for. 

That's the beauty of books, it's not only what is inside them that sparks your imagination but also what they represent on the outside to different people. The history of Beatrix writing 'The Tale of Pigling Bland' and the history of the relationship between the person who sent the book and the person who received it is one of my highlights of being in Keswick. 

What a place...what a picture...well done Rob!

Thursday 4th April 2013

There's no way you can get into our downstairs loo; it makes The Krypton Factor assault course look like the baby section in Snakes and Ladders. It's fully of buggies of various descriptions that won't fit anywhere else especially since I've gone back to work and the boot of my car looks like a mobile classroom.

This means that we are having to rely on using the toilet on the middle floor and it made me realise just how lazy I had become as I'm saying to myself, "I need to go upstairs for a wee and I can't be arsed" (To be fair, when I use the downstairs loo it means that I can keep a watchful eye on what is happening in the living room because as soon as my back is turned, usually one child teases the other). Ho hum.

Suddenly, as my random train of thought began meandering to the upstairs loo I started to think about how having one toilet between 7 of us when we were growing up never posed a problem at all. Then, I got to thinking even further back about when my mam lived in a two up and two down and the toilet was outside in the back yard. Finally, it got me thinking about some of the lesser developed countries that I have been to and worked in where I've had to do some things so that I can have a wee that makes Glamping in this country look like the bloody Hilton!

I was going to discuss the trouble with buggies in this blog entry but now my train of thought is going right out of the window; I mean, are we on the brink of nuclear war? No one will want to buy a second-hand i-Candy pram then will they?

Crikey! I wish I'd never looked in that damn toilet now - I've completely forgot what I was going to blog about :-s

On a completely different tangent, I found this book at m'mam's last weekend. How fab is this?
Cooking IS Fun (notice, no exclamation mark to lighten the mood) YOU WILL ENJOY IT! (That's
my imaginary sub-heading)

Saturday 5th January 2013

Christmas is over and...

I'm organising a Christening, a 3rd Birthday Party and a Golden Wedding Anniversary. Who the hell do I think I am? Pippa Middleton? I don't even think her book "Celebrate" can help me out of this one. It's definitely the Roman Catholic in me; the metaphorical whips of self-flagellation are beating my back furiously!

Actually, I really love organising parties and things. I've been on the Middleton's party website and I think I could give them a run for their money even though I don't have venues such as Buckingham and Windsor Palace to hand (more like Snakes and Ladders in Ipswich).

I want to get the bulk of the kid's celebrations sorted over the next week (you know, on top of washing, cleaning, cooking, feeding, contemplating my naval etc) as I am taking my mum to Paris in two weeks time as a BIG, MASSIVE thank you for being well...just brilliant.

There are several reasons I adore my mum; here are just a few of them:

1. She is hardcore. A woman brought up in inner city Manchester and a bonafide Mancunian (without the nasal accent).
2. She has some fantastic sayings such as "Always respect a chip pan" and "Never trust a man with their eyes close together" (whilst wagging her finger at the same time).
3. She didn't know who Cath Kidston was until I bought her one of their floral peg bags last year for Christmas.
3.She is the Kofi Annan and Ban Ki Moon of our family.
4.  She gave birth to five children naturally with little more than a bit of gas and air (and probably a couple of paracetamol knowing her). And, fellow Alpha Mums, there wasn't a website or book in sight! I honestly don't think she would know what a 'Parenting Author' is and it's totally refreshing.
5. My friends love her and unlike the legendary Les Dawson, Rob actually really loves her too. Plus, she actually gets on with her daughter-in-laws as well.
6. We have sooooo much fun together. When I was in Edinburgh as a student, she often came up and once, a taxi driver thought she was a mature student. I wanted to leave a pub in the Grassmarket but she said, "We can't because Kathy has got a round in".
7. Through the miscarriages, the operations and the bereavements she has been there to carry us and support us unconditionally with a focused attitude. When Bethan was ill and I was in pieces, it was my mum who was by mine and Rob's side. Poignantly, she had been through something very similar when my sister had been born 40 years earlier. It was not the first time she had lived on a neonatal unit.
8. She is unassuming and modest and would probably kill me if she knew I was writing this. (Probably with a chip pan!).

Yes, Paris, here we come. And let's be careful because once when we went to London for the day she nearly got stuck on the tube train. As the doors were about to close, I had to drag her off by the lapels of her coat. The thought of her travelling around the Circle Line all day is too much to bare. Let's hope a similar thing doesn't happen at the station in Pigalle. Knowing my mum, she would find herself headlining at the Moulin Rouge.