Addiction

We love games and this is the latest one we have become addicted to.
We've stoically worked our way through Boggle, Monopoly,3D Noughts and Crosses, oh and Tetrus.
Life has become one long series of Bananagrams only to be interupted by eating, sleeping and working. Our television hasn't been turned on since we got it!
There are groans if the phone rings in the middle of a game, school runs are preceeded by a quick game.
To say we're obsessed is an understatement.
A man arrived to discuss some businessy thing with me, we were in the middle of a game. I made him coffee and he watched while we (me, darling husband and my lady that does) finished the game, a bit amazed. He commented that our approach to the working day was quite refreshing, odd, but refreshing!
Yesterday I took my eldest daughter to Swansea to see her consultant. We took the game with us, of course, to play in the waiting room.
Darling husband phoned "Where's the Bananagrams? Jazz and I can't find it..."
As I say, we're obsessed, but getting awfully good at spellign.

Rockstar

I LOVE this track... Rockstar
(video isn't my favourite)

It's positively persisting here in Monmouthshire this morning and I'm feeling a little traumatised by my terrifying experience yesterday.

I took my MIL shopping, dropped her off at Somerfield (oh the shame!) and then took my wonderful children into Waitrose for our family fodder shop. All was well, Sophie was sitting very nicely, Jasmine was pushing her sister around, chatting happily.
Then I saw them, by the cucumbers, two foul little boys, around nine years of age, one sprawling in a shallow trolley, one pushing him. They were riff raff, and in waitrose!! They pulled cucumbers all over the floor and threw them back into the racks.
"Some-one's got to eat that!" I bellowed (in a ladylike way, of course).
In a very cheeky whiney voice, they repeated "someones got to eat that" and laughed.
"You really are very rude aren't you?" I said.

I was furious that such creatures should be in the store. let alone behaving so badly. I looked around again, and saw them going over to their parents and repeating what I'd said. I shuddered, got scared and instructed Jazz to push her sister very quickly into the wine section, I knew I'd be safe there.
The parents were riff raff, I know it's true I have gained a few pounds and was forced to purchase a size 14 skirt in Per Una recently, but there's no need to have your belly hanging out between your XXXL clothes in the chilled ready made salads section. The mother was modelling a fine greasey old perm and split ends; her husband strutted proudly by her side, displaying his tattoos and wearing a dashing pair of pull-up jogging bottoms and anorak. They surely mistook Monmouth for Merthyr on the map??
I calmed myself by selecting some choice reds and watched from a distance while they queued up to purchase 200 Superkings and then leave in the direction of a Wetherspoons.

Birthday

It's my Birthday.
I'm having a tea party tonight, as is the tradition in Darling Husband's family. There will be my adorable Godson, my champion friend (the one at whose wedding I cried recently..sniff!), my great friend Charlie (wonderful) and my lovely in-laws (no, really).

Here's two entertaining true stories, no I don't make them up...who says living out in the sticks is boring?

Jazz, middle daughter arrived home and announced that Sam Bevan wasn't in school today. "His sister came into the class and told teacher that Sam wouldn't be in because he'd been bitten by a goose and didn't feel well"

No sympathy was shown by anyone, the whole class including the teacher dissolved into hysterics, as did we when we heard the story.

Here's a true story from my niece who studies at Cardiff Uni:
Her friend Tom got a call in the middle of the night.
"Quick!! TOM!!, I've caught the leprechaun, come quick!!"

Tom: "you've what?"

"Quick, I've caught him and I don't know what to do with him. He can't get away, I've locked him in the cupboard, it's the Leprechaun, I've caught him, QUICKK!"

Tom drove to his friends place, just in case.

His friend was curled up on the kitchen floor, asleep and somewhat intoxicated, front door unlocked.
There was a chair wedged against the cupboard door, preventing it from being opened.
Tom moved the chair and opened the cupboard.
Inside was a very vertically challenged man, also intoxicated.
As DM would say OHMYGOD!!!

There is a moral there somewhere I'm sure.

Spring Time

I have the huge pleasure of receiving another award!! Gosh how marvellous! Thank you so much Gone Back South.

That and I've won a Handheld PDA (whatever that is) for my Christmas Horror Story about the escaping hamster.
But I've been in no mood to really appreciate any of these nice things, I've had cold in by dose, my chest hurts, my back hurts and I've been very unwell. I think it was flu because I really haven't done a thing, haven't blogged much at all and have done very little work.
I did have a major problem in that I lost my voice. It didn't really matter here, I just stayed in bed and ignored everyone. I did though, take my business phone with me...stupidly. It hadn't occurred to me that I wouldn't be able to actually answer it. Oh, and of course I had two excellent enquiries by phone. My clients must have been simply bowled over by my whispering husky voice! I probably made the sales through pity!
I've got nothing too exciting to say apart from my world record attempt at use of Kleenex and painkillers, so I'll tell you a (nother true) story that Darling Husband told me.
My brother in law 'lambs' around a thousand ewes (looks after girl sheep having babies) every Spring, and he does this on his own. So we don't actually see much of him for a month or so, he's on call 24/7 and is permanently exhausted beyond belief.
If there is a sudden drop in air pressure/ change in the weather (how likey is that?) a whole bunch of the woolly things go into labour, and he nurses every lamb that others would give up on. He puts a mark on every lamb with a special sheep mark (red paint) and then some creosote smelling dot to keep the foxes and big cats away (yes, we have them around). Sometimes he's bottle feeding 30 tiddlers (orphans or rejected ones) during the day and night as well as coping with the lambing and feeding of each and every one.
So Darling Husband went to see his brother, and there he was with a Ewe looking really worried. "Look at her, her face was all red yesterday. Her mouth was all red, eyes running, off her food...it's Blue Tongue #*!!#*"
Darling Husband had a look.
Brother in Law went on "I've given her Penicillin, her eye is better but look at her, she's not right"
Darling Husband noticed the Ewe scoffing as much as possible, positively thriving on being segregated from the flock. He came home, laughing.
He had sheep mark on his hands, and had noticed his brother in law had some on his face...the stupid thing (sheep) had had her head in the sheep mark bucket and eaten some and got it all over her head. No wonder she was off-colour so to speak.
Brother in law wasn't easily convinced, he's so tired, bless him.

Raw Emotion

Thank you Omega Mum and Retired and Crazy for this award. So lovely to be thought of by two such entertaining Bloggers.

I've been out of action this week, mulling over my own troubled world and making mountains out of molehills. Well, I am a mother, it's my duty to do so, that and keeping them in clean underwear.
I also had an emotional time seeing my very dear friend get married for the second time. It was fabulous, I made a speech, I cried, couldn't finish what I wanted to say and got a resounding applause for my raw emotion even though Wales had just beaten England in the Rugby and I was introduced as the grooms' English friend. I feared being lynched afterwards but so many people said I did a great job, a Welsh wedding in the valleys on Rugby day can be a scary place to be when you're very obviously English.
I couldn't look at my friend or talk to him for an hour or so, it just made me cry, he's a champion chap, wonderful father, and so totally fab, I love him. He's found the love of his life and she's a fantastic step-mum to my God Sons.
Darling Husband, myself, the bride and groom and our five children retired to the bridal suite for champagne. The girls hid under the wedding dress (it was enormously wide) while the beee-yooo-tiful bride sat delicately on a poooofee, and the boys hid in the wardrobe. The groom and I led on the bed, heads together looking at the photos on his camera, darling husband wandered around, scaring the children occasionally before snuggling in between myself and the groom. We suddenly realised how odd it all looked when the brides' parents walked in and laughed for rather a long time.
I'll stop the sop now, and get back to my normal scathing self next post.

"Teenagers Scare the Living s*** out of me" - My Chemical Romance

I've just told Potty Mummy that I would Blog about this later, but I'll get it done now, I'm feeling raw emotion about this one and I want to move on and no keep going over and over it in my mind.
My teenage daughter, beautiful, stunning, lovely teenage daughter was left standing on the side of a busy main road one night last term after school. Her friend didn't go home on the bus and she assumed I knew and would pick her up. She stood and waited until I realised something was wrong and drove like a bat out of hell to find her. It frightened me beyond anything I've known, I gave her my mobile phone there and then. She had lost hers and I was determined she could go without for being so irresponsible with her belongings. If she'd had a phone,, if I'd not been so stubbborn over, lets face it, a few pounds, she could have phones me and it wouldn't have happened.
But that's not what's ripping my insides apart today. On Saturday I borrowed my phone back from my daughter, travelled by train to South Wales to a friend getting married, Darling Husband and the girls were driving down later in the day and meeting us at the Church.
As soon as I sat down I realised I'd forgotten something, opened the phone to call home and ther it was, a name in the phone that I hadn't heard of. It wasn't one of my customers or one of her friends. I called home, asked for the forgotten item to be brought down and asked her who it was? She said It was one of her friends' friends. OK, I rang off, and I'm ashamed to say I was suspicious, and read the texts.
The person is a 42 year old Irish man. My daughter had, quite innocently texted the wrong number, got two numbers the wrong way round and sent a message to this man. He politley texted back saying she had the wrong number.
She sent a text thinking her friend was being stupid and pretending to be someone else. A few texts went backwards and forwards and once she knew it was someone unknown to her, she apologised and said, please don't block my texts, it kind of cool to text someone I don't know. He replied by asking if she like the Irish?
This is where I got the phone.
So I'm in agony, my husband is furious and can't bring himself to have a conversation with her, he's polite and says the normal things, but he's gutted.
Nothing has happened, nothing awful has come of this, no improper suggestions have been made, this man could have been completely innocently being friendly. But why would she be so bloody stupid to want to do this, haven't we told her enough times about the dangers and phones and emails.
My wonderful friend had me burst into his house on his wedding day and have to listen to me. He took the phone and sent a message pointing out there was inappropriate texting going on and would be taking legal advice. He sat me down calmed me down, listened, sorted it out and stopped it continuing. All this on his day, a total rock, I love him for it.
My daughter has been told this man is 42, has been told he could be anyone, a nice guy, a child molester, we don't know. She could also ruin this mans life, he could have replied in complete ignorance and if we had called police in hysterics, his life would be ruined.
This happens to others, I'm a responsible mother, aren't I? Or am I setting a bad example by Blogging with people I don't know? Am I not giving her enough attention, maybe I shouldn't have sent her to a private girls school. I'm not coping with this and nothing's happened really. I'm not in a good place with this.