Saturday, April 30, 2011

I blame the parents

We didn't go to the street party in someone's house as I felt too tired after all those wedding celebrations. I had a lovely glass of Pimms instead looking at the naff garden lights I bought in Homebase last week. They make my garden all twinkly ... the ones that work. They are solar powered and, although some of them seem to be a bit unenthusiastic, they give out enough light to create the impression of a flood lit sports ground for fairies.

I ate a Cadbury's cream egg for breakfast, the Student's carefully saved cream egg in his Cadbury's Easter egg ... only because he wasn't a bit sorry for me when my Easter egg was eaten by a mouse. The Apprentice ate the rest of the Student's chocolate egg. Oh he will be so cross when he gets back from totty chasing. Never mind, I can always buy more Cadbury's cream eggs but, knowing he'll be rude and horrid to us, we might not give them to him. It'll be a test but I bet it doesn't go along the lines of: "Mum, please can I have a cream egg?" There'll be much berating and sulking - normal behaviour for him.

Actually. I feel a bit sorry for the Student as, having finished his final degree film and paying fortunes for it to be developed, he has found there was a hair across the lens in the last reel. Apparently, it's very noticeable and, although not his fault, he will have to carry the blame and be marked down accordingly. Mind you, I notice he's just left it on the hall floor for the dog to chew or Mr Smith to stand on. I will move it and see if he says "Mum, sorry to disturb you but have you seen my film reel that I seem to have mislaid?" I somehow don't think it'll go quite like that. The temptation to hide it and pretend I have no idea what he's talking about is very great.

I blame the parents.

Friday, April 29, 2011

Mr & Mrs Cambridge

Oh that wedding was just lovely. I thought minibuses for all lesser royals was a bit of a hoot. No, you're not nearly royal enough for a coach ... it's the minibus for you. Here comes Princess Anne driving hers and Elton John in his. Samantha Cameron forgot her hat. The Fergiettes looked a bit orff I thought and I didn't like Camilla's outfit but the mother-of-the-bride looked charmingly elegant. I sang along to Jerusalem - so kind of the Telegraph to print the order of service for me; some of those choristers looked so very young I felt they needed my help. What perfect bridesmaids, two of whom were very very little. Oh Wills & Kate, may you be as happy as you look on the tea towels.

I painted the final bit of the Shed, an outstanding bottom bit. One day I will start coat two o'er the entire thing. Oh how fatiguing.

I talked to my mangetout seedlings - marginally more interesting than Mr Smith sometimes.
I am growing far too many things. I think I should limit myself to say 5 veg only and a few spuds. I will try that next year. In the meantime I will stock Sainsbury's veg department single handedly from my teeny vegetable plot.

Tonight we are attending a street party which appears to be in someone's home, not the street. Don't they have any real friends? We forgot to rsvp but will turn up anyway, en famille. Mr Smith is good at being rude like that.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Ghostbusters

Gosh, ridding my house of these infestations of pests (one mouse and one wasp and one student) makes me feel invicible. Mr Smith looks on admiringly as I trap my fingers in the mousetrap yet again. It ain't easy setting a mousetrap without it snapping shut at the vital moment. The wasp was simply disposed of using the rolled up newspaper technique and the Student disappeared when told it was Vegetarian dinner.

Mr Smith brought me flowers. Mr Smith did not buy me flowers - don't be daft. These were delivered to his office by a client and, instead of passing them to the office staff, Weedy Chris or Greedy Kelly, he gave them to me who was mammothly chuffed. It is a mighty bouquet in hideous shades of bright yellow but they look Eastery and give me great cheer.

Exciting things to do today: Meet Kate Middleton to assure her prewedding nerves are usual for all young brides. I remember our wedding day with Mr Smith looking absolutely terrified but I assured him it would all be fine and just look at us 26 years on. Handsome princes comes in all shapes and forms .... at least you've got a real one.

Real things to do today: Plant out dwarf beans, courgettes and mangetouts in their newly prepared beds. OOOh eck where on earth am I going to put the leeks? It's all getting a bit congested what with Jamie Oliver Barlotto beans doing really well and taking over the whole vegetable garden. That Jamie Oliver does get everywhere and I'm getting a bit fed up with his ugly mug on everything I look at. Watch out Jamie, I am getting rather good at exterminating pests these days.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Squeak

I just caught a mouse; not before it had eaten a big round hole in my Green & Blacks Easter egg. Suddenly I don't like chocolate any more or mice for that matter.

Buzz

I just killed an enormous wasp. Well done me.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

International Day of Chocolate

I feel sick.

Shall I finish off the jigsaw Mr Smith started, just to annoy him, or shall I sort out my wardrobe? I don't trust this amazing heatwave to last forever and I can just see me putting away all my wintry woollies and replacing them with summer flimsies only to find I was a bit previous. I'll make some sort of effort later with compromises at cardigans.

Easter was lovely but God I ate. How I ate and ate and ate and not just chocolate. Due to the glorious weather we were able to gently barbecue the pascal lamb (and split an infinitive). Thanks Rick Stein for your great demo on U-tube which we followed carefully. Just heavenly. However, the boning, butterflying and marinading was a right palaver and I got meaty fingers all over the laptop as I was going for a rerun on a video of a couple of New Zealanders hoiking out the bone with the greatest of ease whilst I was upside down stabbing into it with a big knife wrestling it back onto the worktop with mother-in-law looking on giving wrong advice. However, I did it.

If I search around this, very messy, house with any luck I should find some more chocolate.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Reasons to be Cheerful

Only one day, actually only 12 hours, til Mrs Smith can once again eat chocolate after her Lenten vigil. I am thinking Easter Day officially should start at midnight ... So, if I stay up late enough I could get an early start on the chocky eggs. Only slight problem is I am not absolutely certain Mr Smith has bought me an egg. When I was last having a super snoop I didn't find any Easter eggs. Mr Smith can be a bit sneaky like that. I remember when I was little my grandmother showing me her real Faberge egg and feeling so sorry for her not getting a chocolate one. What a bummer only rubbish diamonds, no flake or curlywurly.

Dr Who is back. Didn't understand a word. Well, I did but it's a bit deeply difficult. Saturday night just wouldn't be complete without some seriously awful telly and Britain's Got No Talent certainly fits the bill. Oh happy me ... just a tadge of chocolate and I'd be in heaven.

We have Mrs Smith, mother of Mr Smith, staying with us for Easter. I arranged to meet her at the British Museum in "the shop". What I didn't know is they had left no retail opportunity unexplored and there were many shops, positive malls, selling Egyptian Mummy ovengloves and Rosetta Stone umbrellas. By some miracle, I bought neither. I eventually found her near Aztec mousemats. I brought her home for Mr Smith to be horrid to, as a change from me. He gets all moody and spoilt when his Mumsie comes to stay - a bit of a big fat princess of a man really. He left me in Homebase car park this afternoon. Yup, he just drove off with his mother trying to leap out of a moving car in order to save me. Ah, but I know Mr Smith would never really leave me - not like I will him if there isn't serious chocolate set before me tomorrow.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Good idea/Bad idea

Mrs Smith's top five bad decisions - recent ones, not things like having children:

Joining three different teams for the pub quiz so I got all the answers then entering on my own and almost winning. Everyone now thinks I am a frightful cheat.

Having that last glass of wine with Mark the Restaurant, served by Mark the Gay and almost ending up singing Madonna - just like a karaoke virgin.

Leaving my wellies and mobile phone at the sea - not exactly a decision, more a bit of absentmindedness brought on by the previous bad decision.

Recording five episodes of Coronation Street and having to watch them all back to back in order to catch up by tonight. I am a slave to my soap. It's quite fatiguing but if I don't watch it the poor actors will have done all that work for nothing. I fancy Steve MacDonald. I did fancy that guy Audrey's friend is dating until he turned out to be a transvestite in his spare time.

Tumble drying the laundry instead of pegging it out on a beautiful sunny day and getting found out by the Senior Dalek who will exterminate me.

On the other hand I managed to make a few brilliant decisions too. I went to Portsmouth early and bought loads of fabulous bargains as pressies for all my friends and relations. In fact I bought so much at Crabtree they gave me a free gift, a loyalty card and 10% off everything I buy next time. Ooooh I absolutely love buying crap; I must go back and get some more.

I went to see the Student who lives in a room full of camera equipment, mountains of it with a little gap to get to the bed. I took him 6 doughnuts and my very beautiful digital camera - to add to the pile. I hope this doesn't end up on the bad decisions list.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Pimms O' clock

The Juror's case was dismissed due to lack of evidence so the bloke got off and our Juror returned to his role of Student and went back to his University of Druggy Arts. That was a quick jury service. I think there may be a part two coming up next week but it's difficult eaking information out of the Student; he's under oath.

Pebble squares are just brill but sadly make all the other slabs I've made so far look a bit boring. We are now planning a pebble mosaic to go in front of the Shed. I am being sent to the seaside to collect more pebbles. We do need an awful lot. I so need a day away from heaving earth; heaving pebbles will be quite different. Shall I take a spade?

The Shed and Son of Shed are just about finished. Just a bit of touching up the paintwork and then the Lovely Claudia can come and inspect them. I must get Mad Carina round too then it'll be a Coven Meeting... in the Shed rather than in Son of Shed where it would be a trifle cramped with the garden tools.

Oooooh Mr Smith has just made me a glass of Pimms. How I love this bonkers weather - June (without the rain) in April. There'll be drought come Summer ... oh sorry, I seem to have turned into a Cornish soothsayer. I meant to say I hope there won't be a hosepipe ban or Mr Smith will have long arms dragging endless watering cans down to the vegetables whilst muttering "I don't see why we need to grow vegetables, it's much easier to buy them at Waitrose."

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Let it Blossom, Let it Grow

I gardened. How can such an enormous amount of backbreaking, time consuming work be reduced to two words? The whole thing is a complete mess with mounds of earth everywhere and a rather previous runner bean plonked on top. Well, I got canes so I got enthusiastic. I want it to look like a really posh allotment rather than like a giant mole has gone beserk at the end of the garden. Oh well, better get out there and do some more before Mr Smith moans. "It was perfectly ok as it was and I don't like your paving." But I made it myself.

The Student son, currently The Juror, has been allotted a case and is sitting in judgement again later today. He is sworn to secrecy so I've heard every detail of the case and it's truly fascinating. He needs a packed lunch (with a note .... Dear Student, I am proud of you being such a good citizen. Hang 'em high. Love Mum.)

Monday, April 18, 2011

It's the Flintstones - having a gay old time.

If you have committed a crime in the Kingston area you may well find yourself up before twelve good men including the Student son. He is on jury duty. He has little chance of actually getting a case what with Good Friday, Easter Monday and Royal Wedding all taking place during his allotted time. Jammy git. He is going smart - obviously doesn't understand that he's not actually "appearing in court". Oh well, I hope he only gets community service rather than a custodial sentence.

I have an exciting day today. No, I really do. OK, it may not involve space travel or meeting George Cluny for tea but I am hoping to paint the shed balcony, lay some more paving (which is coming on nicely by the way as we have ventured into pebbly tiles and they are brill) and erect shed son of Shed.

The Apprentice wants us to make a pebble mosaic. Plenty tricky but not impossible - just laborious. The first thing is pebble collection. I have brought loads back from the sea but definitely not enough. We need to sort them by size and colour into plastic boxes which seems a bit dull but I suppose will make things easier (for the Apprentice). We have to go to the River at low tide and gather more, different, pebbles. Yabbadabba doo.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Unexplored territories

There's a part of our house that I hardly ever visit and that is the top floor (of three) where the boys sleep. They have their own bathroom which I do go and muck out if we have a guest staying at Christmas. Sometimes, if the ironed clothes and sheets have sat on the stairs for over a month, I might deliver them to the top floor and I have been known to cast the hoover over the top landing, annually. Is it because I am really, really lazy or perhaps because that part of the house is their domain? I wonder if there are millions of people who never, or very rarely, investigate what's going on in some rooms of their homes. For all I know there could be a family of Lithuanians living up there. There aren't, I've just checked but looking at the piggery state of the boys' rooms you'd be hard pushed to see if they were dissident free. Actually, no self respecting boat person (or lorry person) would have ventured into their bathroom before I cleaned the loo and scrubbed the shower. There again, the boys hardly ever come into my bedroom or bathroom. Maybe we have built boundary walls within our house - My Space Not Your Space.

I went to B&Q today with Mr Smith who was just awful. He'd promised me this trip a week ago as he has the big car and I wanted to buy big things like bean canes. The car has been unwell and Mr Smith has been playing more golf than Tiger. We left really late as he dithered about for ages. The moment we arrived he wanted to go to the loo - I went before we left! Then he dragged his feet, didn't help find anything on the list, then the shop closed. However, I did get my shed (son of Shed) and it just, but only just, squeezed into (crotchety) Mr Smith's car with the bean poles digging into my shoulder.

The Student son comes homes tonight then we have the full compliment - the whole family. Mr Smith looks slightly fatigued at the prospect.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

A bit seedy

In an attempt to plant peas I had to resort to the instructions. Aha. Sow in drills (what are drills?) 12" apart in zig zags with 2" between seeds. What? I made an indent in the soil and chucked them in. Beds should contain plenty of organic matter and be well fertilised. Do ground elder and fox poo count? Gosh the next bit looks very complicated indeed involving twigs and nets and anti bird, anti slug, anti bug, anti cat etc. Why don't I just build a great big vegetable cage. Mr Smith asks why I don't just buy Birds Eye like everyone else?

People are always complaining about the cost of cauliflowers. Anything under £50 each seems quite reasonable to me.

My head aches. I haven't got a hangover but the Apprentice has so I am having it with him in sympathy. The concrete slab went hard whilst I was away at the seaside collecting pebbles for our pebble mosaic (don't ask!) so all is OK and the Apprentice son thinks I'm a brilliant Mum and a jolly good cement mixer.

Only 7 days til chocolate - oh goody. I'm not doing this Lenten vigil again. God doesn't mind if I eat chocolate or not. I am no thinner. I just eat other rubbish instead such as jelly babies or marshmallows or ratafia biscuits or all three rammed into my mouth at once - a cocktail of loveliness I truly recommend.

Observation of the day by Mr Smith: If your wife falls asleep whilst doing the crossword with a biro in bed you end up with scribbly sheets.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Shallow Graves

Don't ever ask me to bury your adversary in concrete. I am in a bit of a panic. Having spent the whole of Monday laying a concrete slab for the shed deck (terrace) I realise we didn't add enough cement so the whole thing is very crumbly and not actually setting. I don't want the Apprentice to see this awful mistake. In fact I am going to run away to the seaside when I've done the ironing.

Who is NEJ? He is apparently an actor who had a fling with a tart and doesn't want his wife to know. Silly eejit, she'll find out soon enough. It's in all the papers just his name isn't ... for now. Mrs Smith is definitely on the case.

The Apprentice has laid out my vegetable garden - four raised beds that look horribly like graves. I must get potaging and make flowers and vegetables grow in them before it is mistaken for a family burial plot. Mr Smith thinks it looks most sinister but has the sense not to say so for fear of becoming fertiliser.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

April showers, where?

I thought it might rain what with it being April but I was mistaken. We've had no rain for weeks, which was rather handy for us building our shed. I don't understand this weather, do you? One moment it's mid summer then it goes all wintry again and there you are in your bikini freezing your tits off. I planted all my sweet peas under their perfectly formed cane trellis. (Well, not that perfectly formed actually; it looks like a messy load of sticks in the ground rather than neatly criss crossed bamboo canes.) - Grow grow. Then I put together the new garden furniture which was very tricky as Mr Smith had managed to purchase some cheap horrible flat pack effort, supposedly designed to seat six people with no elba room, and the screw holes all in the wrong places. I was suspicious when I saw an Argos delivery lorry pull up - I thought he said it was from Home & Garden. Maybe it was Homebase, who are now owned by Argos, and I wasn't listening. The Apprentice and my drill (not his although he likes to think it is) were called for. We cobbled together a table and some chairs and sat outside for a bit admiring our assembly skills and now I am cold to my bones.

The ironing beckons. Gosh, nobody's life can be this exciting. I have to drive Mr Smith to Surrey to collect his mended car. I have to remember to put drops on the dog's nose. It's gone all bald to match his stupid tail. Since using the drops it has got considerably worse. Do we persist or go back to the vet and pay another £35? Mr Smith suggests shooting the dog. The dog is hiding.

I was going to spend the afternoon gardening. I am trying to make my vegetable garden resemble the plan I carefully mapped out rather than a big pile of earth. However, Love Film have just sent my latest request. Mmmm what shall I do? Shame it's not raining.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Son of Shed

Ooooh, it's all go in my paving factory though there are a few "seconds" (i.e. a pile of rubbly concrete) where I have become too impatient and have evicted the curing paving slabs from their moulds before they were ready so I could embark on the next batch. I must calm down in my production, or get more moulds. Mixing that concrete by hand is damned hard work. I do use a spade so not actually by hand in case you were worrying.

My vegetable garden is planned. I bought a load of sleepers today (heavy planks not lazy students) to edge the veg beds. Cost: about £50 per courgette. I also nearly bought the Shed a baby shed. It's a tiny toolshed like a sentry box or an outside khazi. I'll paint it to match the Shed and use it to store my one spade. Mr Smith broke my gardening fork yesterday when he offered to help weed. I am suspicious this may not have been entirely accidental. I found him another more manly fork with which to attack path and plot.

My final task of the day as set for me by my task master, The Apprentice, before I embarked upon Vegetarian Tuesday's dinner and the ironing, was to varnish a mighty pile of flooring planks for The Pavilion (the artist formerly known as the Shed). Every bee, fly and any other passing flying insect decided to become laminated between the coats of polyurethane as natural exhibits. "Mother, what are all those flies doing all over my floor?" "The Hokey Cokey?"

I would lounge in bed tomorrow morning but we have a delivery of garden furniture ordered by Mr Smith to come at the worst possible moment when every bit of our garden is taken up with piles of wood, sheds, more sheds, bits of soon to be sheds, ex sheds and ex garden furniture. He means well; I mean to kill him ... with a garden chair. I'll put his body in my little shed with my broken fork.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Aggregating


I have found my true vocation: I am a cement mixer. We stupidly thought we'd save a bit o' dosh by not hiring a cement mixer then had to mix 15 bags of grit with cement and water by hand, bag by bag. Very tiring it was too. I did most of the mixing whilst the Apprentice looked on admiringly. Sometimes I think I am a brilliant Mum as well as a talented cement mixer.

I quite like being a builder. You wear a uniform of cement and paint infested overalls and take three sugars in your tea. I had to do the lunch run to Gregs the Bakers for fatty high carb treats which I ate like a starving navvie. Soon I'll be telling Mr Smith I could do it for a bit less for cash, you know wha' I mean, guv.

I have become quite experimental in my home made paving and we now have coloured slabs. Admittedly the first one broke because I tried to hurry it. However, I will soon have enough to start my vegetable garden. Ooooh the carrots and beans will be so happy.

I was hoping Mr Smith might burn some more bits of dead animals for our dinner on his barbequeue but it's raining. Oh well, I'll lend him an umbrella.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Far Pavilion


When's Easter? The Apprentice and I have managed the whole of Lent so far without chocolate and we can't last much longer. We are looking for those special supermarket deals of 3 chocolate eggs for a tenner ... each. We will direct Mr Smith towards Asda.

My home made paving slabs are fantastic. In fact they're almost better than bought ones. So we made some more. Turning them out is very exciting - a bit like a very satisfactory pudding.

I have gardened the wilderness by the shed. Well, that is I have done half of it, generously leaving the other half for Mr Smith who spent the whole weekend playing beastly golf. The idea is a smart vegetable garden with neat beds surrounded by paving rather than a neglected pile of earth covered in nettles.

The shed is more or less finished on the outside. Now we have to do the deck. Oh yes, it's very grand, our shed at the end of our garden. Perhaps I ought to call it a log cabin rather than a shed or maybe I'll refer to it as The Pavilion.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

And they're off

It's Grand National Day and I will be throwing my money away on some nag that will fall at the third, as usual. To mark the occasion I have been following the jockey's diet. I start with a delicious mixture of oats and fruit that I soak overnight in milk. It's very sweet and very sustaining and would be just the thing if you were then going to ride a big strong racehorse all morning rather than sit on your fat arse gazing into space. Dinner is meat and salad. I decided the bits in between don't count. I have so far put on 4lbs. Not quite what I had in mind!

Shed painting report: It's door and windows today - horribly difficult. Then I can do the whole damned thing again with coat two. Oh how exciting! Good grief I ache.

So so exciting. My paving slab moulds have arrived so I can make my own paving. OK, I know you can buy it ready made but it's really expensive and this is a lot more fun. Not til I've finished painting the shed I hear you cry. Oh, alright then.

Friday, April 8, 2011

Splatter & splutter

Actually, yesterday's entry wasn't entirely true as lots happened. It was gloriously sunny so I painted some of the shed and it looks blue. I had extreme difficulty reaching the bit under the overhang - tres tricky - and I covered myself in paint. I then had to scrape the paint off and get poshed up to taxi Mr Smith around Surrey. We collected his sick car from the BMW private clinic and took it to the more general hospital of Local Man What Does Cars. I had to travel behind it in my beautiful silver dream machine of a Mercedes SLK with the roof down in the wake of a fog of black smoke billowing out of the rear end of Mr Smith's exhaust. Our dog does less smelly farts. Well, it's now going to be fixed. I am suffering from carbon emission poisoning. Mr Smith had to take me out to lunch to compensate and very nice it was too.

Mr Smith was very good all day as he cooked dinner. Good weather means time to get out the barbie and burn some meat. He's good at that. Long may this heatwave last. I'm off to paint more of me and the shed blue. The Apprentice can make me a cup of tea and reach some of those really tricky bits. Mr Smith can applaud.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Nihilism

It's quite late and I haven't managed a blog entry today because absolutely nothing happened.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Spring water

A gloriously sunny Spring day that I celebrated with a swim, indoor and out. Fitter me!

Last night I surpassed myself in the Vegetarian Tuesday fare. There was a bit of "What's this?" but Mr Smith did at least admire the lentil pie before saying "This would be really nice with some meat." Oh please! Chicken tonight - Lighter Healthier chicken so stand by for complaints.

Mad Carina came round to admire the shed. She felt all it needed was a bit of snow and a chalet girl to give it the full finish. I thought some roofing felt would be more beneficial. The Apprentice hammered away all day long with me passing him bits and painting some more battens. He has covered half the roof with pretty little shingles that look like a patchwork quilt and take about as long to cobble together. Sadly, you can't see the roof from the ground but he has done a splendid job ... so far. Mr Smith put on his jeans then said "Well done, son" before sitting in front of the footer on telly.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Trojan worms for dinner

My dear little lappy wappy top got a germ and was very ill. Thank heavens for the Apprentice who breathed on it and made it all better. (It was raining so he wasn't shed building.) It is actually very frightening when your whole system gets taken over by a big fat virus because, despite having lots of antifungal stuff, your computer is rendered useless and you want to throw it away and get a new one. One has to remember these things cost a bit more than a pair of laddered tights.

Blood, skin and head have now been attended to on the list of maintenance jobs which leaves teeth, diet and feet. I'd like you all to know the results of my blood test were very super normal. My cholesterol is not too high, my hormones are plentiful and my iron levels are just dandy.

Oh God, it's Vegetarian Tuesday. How I hate Vegetarian Tuesdays. Sometimes I forget, on purpose, and give them sausages. Sometimes I throw some pasta, tomato, spinach and cheese together. Occasionally I get out the Delia and ponder. Mmmm needs aubergine. I wonder if Mr Smith is busy or whether he'd like to procure an aubergine; after all, Vegetarian Tuesdays are entirely his invention.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Pregnant with flu

Last week I went to the doctor because I thought I had flu; I was all hot and sweaty for no reason. I also seem to have missed my last period. Oh, it's not flu and I'm not pregnant. I am 52. Am I lamenting the passing of my fertility? No, I would so hate to ever give birth again and I am positively ecstatic about no more monthly you know whats. The hot moments seem to have passed for now. I am awaiting the results of my blood test to see what I am missing e.g. some oestrogen or iron. I had a cholesterol test at the same time - that should be good and scary!

Mr Smith and I went to the seaside and had a lovely time. We went to a very good restaurant with our very good friends and had a superb dinner.

Yesterday we do what we do best, we went shopping and bought lots of stupid bargains in Portsmouth. Mr Smith bought some preposterous golfing shorts and I got several items of ill fitting clothing because they were cheap. I ate Krispy Creme donuts then wished I hadn't but they were so so good. We found an Italian food market so pretended we were in Italy and spent loads of money on cheese, bread and olives.

I walked a million miles along the beach with the dog but that was to work off the dinner. Mr Smith watched from the balcony like a dalek on holiday. He likes to make sure I am walking the dog properly and not visiting any icecream vans.

We came back to London to be greeted by A SHED! It's a bit small. It doesn't yet have a roof. But it is quite impressive. Well done to the Apprentice for his great mate's great efforts. The Student failed to send me a Mother's Day card but did sort himself out of his latest dilemma without needing my money. I so wish I could be last resort rather than first port of call. Try Mr Smith first. They both know that wouldn't work in the same way as their soft touch of a menopausal mother.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

My ghastly family

What's this supposed to be?
Lighter healthier dinner.
Well, we don't like it.
Tough tit.
Didn't you make some flapjacks earlier?
I might have done.
Where are they?
Well,some baddy mice broke into the kitchen and threatened to pull off the dog's whiskers if I didn't give them all the flapjacks, especially the really gooey ones.

Actually, I was a bit full and I felt a bit sick so I skipped Lighter healthier dinner.

The shed is still a pile of wood in the garden with the Apprentice son looking at it and scratching his head. He is having problems with levels or something.

The Student son is in a blind panic filming in Leeds.
"Mum, can you go to Uxbridge, pick up a camera and bring it oop north because ours has broken?" NO.
"Mum, can you put loads of money into my account so I can hire a new camera?"
No. Well, maybe.
"Mum can you do it now?"
But, I'm building a shed then going to the sea. Oh well, I'll go to the bank now and completely disrupt my morning.
"You're brill, Mum. By the way, I didn't have time to get you a Mother's Day Card."
And I hate you.

I know I am not Mr Smith's mother, as he is keen to point out on occasions like this, but it would be nice ....... Oh dream on, girl.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Procrastinator extraordinaire

I have been granted a slight reprieve from shed building as the Apprentice has work today which meant I could finish reading my book, the Blind Assassin. Once in a while you read a book that you thoroughly enjoy that has a brilliant story and doesn't let you down at the end and this was one. I wonder why I didn't get round to reading this before. It was something a bit like redecorating the kitchen or making a decent vegetable garden - I never quite had the time. Well, this morning I finished it and planted some beans in seed trays. I have yet to till the earth and do my laundry but I dare say I'll get round to it in the next few days. I am not redecorating the kitchen but I did clean it.

The sea beckons. It always does when there are London tasks to be performed.

Here's something at which I am quite good: Losing Weight. Here's something at which I am much better: Putting on weight. I am such a fattipuff these days. Mr Smith is going to have to endure healthy meals for the next few weeks. I am working my way through the Light Cooking cookery book - it doesn't look like light cooking to me - all the recipes look extremely hard work. I will rename it "Fatiguing cooking for fatso people and Mr Smith".