Wednesday 30 April 2014

Today's observations 30.04 .14

1. Ticket rules issued by National Rail are sporadic, unlogical and more frighteningly, unknown to National Rail's actual staff. This happened today on arrival at Liverpool Station's Ticket Office at 10:15am:
Cashier: 'Ello.
Me: Hi there! I have this ticket back to Ipswich for 1pm. My appointment this morning has cancelled and so I would like to head back before 1pm. Like, now. Is that possible? If I need to pay more to make up the difference, that's fine.
Cashier: Let me see what I will cost ya. Ah, it will be another £46.50.
Me: Christ. The original ticket was only £15. I'll wait it out. Bummer.
Cashier: Well, if you can wait until 12pm, you can get on that train.
Me: Really? And I don't have to pay anymore? Ok. That would be fine.
Cashier: Yeah, sure. You can get on the 12o'clock with this ticket.
Me: Groovy. Thanks a lot!
Cashier: Mmmmm.

I got on the 12pm train. I was getting home a little earlier than anticipated. All good.
The ticket officer came around and saw that my ticket had 1pm written on it and he got all eggy. I explained that the Liverpool St ticket officer said that it would be fine to embark on this train. I explained the conversation.
I had to purchase another ticket. I'm miffed and cheesed off. Not only have the London Underground *proper* effed me over yesterday - now I have to deal with a uniformed Nazi into a mini computer as well.
2. On a positive note, the stroll from St Pancras to Liverpool St this morning was most beautiful. It only took 7.5 hours and the sun was shining.
3. The variety of food-stuffs available at stations to a mere mortal like me is most mesmerising. I totally dig London Town. I just ate raw fish for breakfast followed by some cumin chicken soup all washed down with a hot chocolate.
4. I wonder what the toilets are like on this train. I feel most bloated and pressurised, like a gas canister, after eating all that revolting gone-off train station food.
5. Someone walked past my hotel bedroom window last night, I estimate around 4am, and declared, rather loudly: "I really need a poo".
6. What's the etiquette for crossing a road in London when the lights say "red man" but there's nothing coming to run you over?
7. What's the etiquette for crossing a road in London when the lights say "red man" but the traffic is all queued at the traffic lights and not actually moving?
8. What's the etiquette for helping women with pushchairs down the underground stairs?
9. That was a trick. I know the answer to No. 8. But 40people in St. Paul's do not.
10. I had an eye test today. First one ever. The dear optician was most sweet. She asked me to read the letters on the board. I pretended to do this with random letters that statistically had little chance of corresponding correctly with the letters that were actually on the board.  Chance was not my friend; I obviously got them all wrong. I fessed to the nice optician that I didn't know what board she was actually on about and would she kindly point out where this said board is actually located.
11. I got a prescription for some glasses. I tried a few pairs on in the shop. They were most unbecoming and aren't my bag at all so I have to say that I not going to bother with this first world problem. As long as I can fasten my children's seat belts then that'll do.
12. The optician made me complete a health questionnaire. They always feel like a trick. No one else was completing one. I'm sure there is a calibration allowance on these types of assessments to accommodate people's truth slipping.
13. I'll get some specs at the weekend. I'm squinting like Rab C Nesbitt just typing this.

Tuesday 29 April 2014

Today's observations 29.04.14

1. I'm in town today. You know. Larnden. My auto correct just changed "observations" to "overstated". How  fitting.
2. The tube strike has made my very profitable trip very unprofitable. I'm not sure I can forge the calmness that I should have towards the public sector presently.
3. I was a bit early for my evening appt. I'm in a pub on my own. I have my iPad and crisps and wine and phone. I want another drink. I asked the business suit type guys next to me to keep an eye on my stuff. They said yes. They looked *well* trustworthy. They wore suits. They worked (earwigging) in finance. There's not way thems apples are fraudulent. No way.
4. When someone else is looking after your worldly wares when you are casually ordering another drink at the bar (tres importante), the cashier dude seems awfully slow. You keep peeking, again, very subtlety, at the chaps that you have assigned guardianship of your gear. You don't want to make eye contact. You don't want to appear mistrusting. But, you know, "Franco" is really taking his time printing an effing receipt. I bet my iPad is gone. Ole Franks finger is hovering over the "wants receipt" button with trepidation and confusion. I want a bloody receipt, Frank. Get a wiggle on.
5. They were true. They kept my stuff safe. But they are looking at what I am typing right now so I used some Walkers Ready Salted to guard the screen from prying banker eyes.
6. The Walkers just touched the screen and it opened a Dora the Explorer app. I was afraid that I had lost my witty blog entry.
7. The tube strike has brought out a mixture of feelings in me. I'd like to say they weren't all sour and unforgiving and p*ssed off.

Saturday 26 April 2014

Today's observations 26.04.14

1. Despite the proclaimed safety of air travel, you still get an internal blankety warmth of comfort when your loved one texts to say that they've landed. They are *alright*. All was hunky dory with that flying hunk of metal whooshing over the Irish Sea. Ryanair looked after my fella.
2. Now, pubs and inns of fair Dublin, it's a bit of a mission, but would you kindly try and do the same.
3. When you are home alone, you can out all your stuff that you need to hand on the *same seat on which you are sat*. I'm rooted very comfortably on my sofa and on the very same seat is a phone, a packet of crisps, a *balanced glass of wine*, a remote controller, an e-cig, and an iPad. This could never happen if the other residents were also here. It's most civilised.
4. I have ample movies saved in the Sky+ planner; all saved for an occasion such as this. In fact, this is the first time that I have sat, alone, to watch a movie since my first Maternity Leave. The joy theory is sound. Alas, Sky is total shit. I have started, voyeured, and stopped 3movies so far.  I'm now on a Ray Winstone one which is guaranteed to be another realm of Cockney crap.
5. Over eager car dancing is very embarrassing. It's impossible to run away from the tirade of finger pointing and laughing when you are queuing at a red light.
6. I fail to see why someone has to take €300 on a night out.
7. When you have known someone a long time, you can predict and *guarantee* their hangover habits. My OHs are cemented. He wakes up merry, a little fruity and jovial. This can be diagnosed as still being pissed. By midday, he quietens significantly and his eyelids droop. By 2pm, he is most eggy. You have to let him sleep, child-free, until around 5pm, where his mood liftens.
8. This is also the same time as the Chinese takeaway opens, which, if I was a cynical sort, would be very convenient timing.
9. I seemed to have misplaced 4packets of crisps on my sofa seat. Someone has swapped them for empty bags instead.
10.  Bloody hell, it's quiet.

Thursday 24 April 2014

Today's observations 24.04.14

1. I'm getting uncharacteristically cross about how much chain coffee shops charge for soft drinks. I purchased an orange juice for my two rotten children yesterday in a well-known Coffee house that had sticky carpet. It was £2.20. It's extortionate. There's no way my kids are worth that investment into thirst-reduction.
2. If I was more organised, I would bring my own drinks.
3. If I was more organised, I wouldn't bring the kids.
4. I went to a local nursery "show-around" day yesterday for my oldest child's impending commencement at pre-school. I rocked up there with my rotten children who had a most splendid time showing me up. I jest, of course, there were supremely behaved and had a lovely time at this delicious estate primary. I do hope we get in there. They had the *whole* range of Peppa Pig figurines which firmly confirms to me that their education investment is paramount and uncompromised.
5. I'm not very good at packing shopping whilst at the pay-bit in a supermarket. I was in the leading supermarket today and I had purchased some groceries. I chucked them onto the conveyor belt hastily, because there is no way I will say "Yes" if the cashier asks me if "I want any help packing". Saying yes to that feels the same as saying "Yes please, I'm a total tosser". In hindsight, I should have accepted. My carrier bag packing is terrible. Nothing fits in the gaps in the carrier bag as I wanted them to. My packed carrier bag resembles a game of Tetris played by a toddler.
6. This rather sporadic and ineffective method of organising also renders the already-paltry carrier bag to split, meaning that on arriving home, I have to do the wanky "fast-walk" up the driveway with all the bags, because they are all on the teetering edge of disintegrating and spilling my goods all over the place. I can already see that the polymer is strained on at least three-quarters of the shopping bags, probably caused me shoving 6bottles of wine into one.
7. I had a fail moment today. I deserved it. I was storming around Tescos with my shopping with my toddler strapped to my back like the fantastic superior mud-woman that I am. Check me, buggy brigade. This is how I roll. Halfway through my shopping, my son woke up and realised that we were in the place of dreams. He displayed his excitement of being in the confectionary aisle by, stupidly, sticking his whole fist in his own mouth. I don't know why he did that. He doesn't probably know either. Anyway, it made him gag and he brought up some spick (sick/spit). It went all down my back. I could see the reflection in the freezer cabinet. I was most annoyed. Everyone was looking at me and no doubt wondering why I had a child crucified to my spine in the first place. Especially one that could competently walk. Even the buggy pushers guffawed a little. I was cheesed off with my son. I could have strangled him with my tie-dye. I flip-flopped home with a buttery shoulder and vowed to muzzle child next time.

Monday 21 April 2014

Today's observations 21.04.14

1. I make some notes sporadically for the sake of blog content. They are here in front of me. No1 says Hotel Vs No Child. I don't know what this means. Hopefully it will become appear apparant further into the blog.
2. I must admit, the crypticism is bothering me.
3. My OH just ran in, all hot and bothered and all that.
4. I'll finish no4 in a minute. I've remembered no1.
5. You rob hotels more when you have children. It's true. The more there is to lift...the more your kids would love it. Unfortunately, my new found memory for this translation cannot think what I was referring to specifically. Ah, yes...notepads and pencils.
6. My OH just ran in and was most excited. "Real Madrid or Bayern Munich!!!! Who's it gonna be! What's gonna happen! Argh! Ahhhh! Gah! God! What's gonna happen Jessie? Bloody hell!". I said that I categorically don't give a flying fig really.
7. We were in our local beer garden today. It really is a most friendly local pub. They know us well. It has a well placed patio garden with *ample* child's toys and amusements. They inflated the bouncey castle just for us. The dear local publican child battled us off, gauntlet style, from approaching the desired inflatable with a Hose-Lokk shower attachment. My children sought a similar arsenal. None was to be found. They instead purchased some "Swee-eez" from the vending machine as a peaceful trade off. It worked. Freddie was won over by the colourful E numbers.
8. Those same colourful "fruit cables" chewy sweets were most interesting. They were so vivid in colour and so starchy in firmness...that they could have actually been attached to a circuit board.
9. Impromptu alcohol. On returning from our beer garden holiday, we arrived home with no means to continue the party. We have still got that 1/4 bottle of vodka in the (still-there) collection of "shed-shite" on the driveway. We have some mulled wine from 2010 (no-one wants to drink that, but we are keeping it for a pre-agreed 25years to see if it turns into an egg) and also, more positively, a bottle of Cava. We opened the Cava. We are celebrating. We are celebrating the world. We don't have anything else to drink as a result of our own bad a planning (and the "FLAVOUR" that crept up naughtily) so we are celebrating our own quick wit of thinking to open the Cava.
10. It's wedding season. People are thinking about getting married,  or even actually planning their wedding. No-one asks me what I think about getting married anymore. They know. I'm not a fan of  it - and that's putting it mildly. It's worthy of a separate blog to be honest.

Friday 18 April 2014

Today's observations

1. It's bank holiday. Everyone is off and all the shops are shut. What are we supposed to do then?
2. You know it's a public holiday when your OH is *in the shed*. There are now 38empty tins of paint, a dubious air bed, a baby rubber ring, an empty bottle of vodka (?),  12 split bags of charcoal, 3 empty bottles or lighting fluid, a broken parasol, and 155,345 empty wine bottles on our drive.
3. Free to a good home: 38tins of barely used high quality paint. Will need some elbow grease getting them open.
4. Don't ask a child to carry a bag home from the shop. Even if the bag is super light. They don't want to carry anything. They whinge the entire return trip home.
5. All that shed shite is still on the driveway. I wonder if there is a further plan for them.
6. Getting an extra day off is not as much fun when you are self employed.
7. Bank Holidays bring new uncovered family observations. We are all together for a longer period of time. I've noticed:
A. My children complain *all the time*.
B. They both have an insatiable requirement of *wanting* something at any given point in the day. They are seldom satisfied with not having been given something.
C. We have quite a lot of unused paint.
D. We all have a desire to have a BBQ, even if the climate doesn't quite suit.
8. When you try and place a new item into our refrigerator, all the condiments fall over. This really winds me up. We have 16 bottles of half-used pickles, creams, relishes, sauces and mayos. We could do with a separate fridge just for these.
9. We held a child's birthday party this week. I've written about birthday party etiquette before. I have a new addition to the list. I'd like to point out that, when there are 3bottles of lemonade that are already open, you don't need to open another one. On cleaning up yesterday morning, there were 4bottles of lemonade that all had had 1 glass taken from them. Groan.
10. Someone started the second coleslaw prematurely too.


Tuesday 15 April 2014

Today's observations 15.04.14

1. I don't get the rage that much, but a commuter sitting in the aisle seat of a packed train, therefore blocking access to the empty seat next to him, gives me the 'ump. Especially when the sweaty prat folds down the table of the empty seat, so it looks "occupied". It doesn't look occupied. It looks available. You gormless inconsiderate prat. See this finger? I'd like to poke it into your eyeball, you arrogant tool.
2. Whilst I'm on that that topic, oh witless one, don't *for one second* think that burying your red nose deep into a newspaper makes that seat any less available. Just because you are mock-engaged into Metro, it doesn't strip another seat-less commuter's ability to get you to move your fat arse.
3. Whilst waiting to disembark the train (and additionally wait to be thrown forward into the adjoining carriage on the train stopping with the grace of the aforementioned seat-thief)  I took a look around at the other impatient commuters who were hanging around the train doors, wanting to get off as soon as the train stopped and hence wasting no time getting home. There's the usual non-eye contact. There's the usual lanky bloke with the fold-up bike. There's the OAP lady with more luggage than anyone else in the world ever. There's the suit who is still fiddling around with his blackberry. There's the Sloany teen with her long legs, beads and plimsols who is still picking the Chicken Flatbread that she started an hour ago. There's the builder who still has his high-viz on. There's the middle aged woman-chums who are squiffy from their shopping trip. Everyone has earphones in. Everyone is listening to music. No-body can actually hear anyone else. It's bizarre. You could shriek, whistle, swear, announce a platform change, cackle or fart, and nobody would hear you.
4. The OAP has no ear phones. But I imagine that her hearing is a little weaker than the others in any case.
5. I feel all swishy when I walk through stations. Like I'm famous or important or something. I also like to imagine that I'm meeting a loved one after a long absence. I have no idea why I do this. I'd wager I talk to myself too. Because of those damn earphones I can't hear anything anyway.
6. I played it cool. I was walking down the platform to get on the train that would take me home. It was 5:28. The train was leaving at 5:30. I took my time. The fellow passengers already seated on the train no doubt looked at me with admiration; me looking all clam and cool, walking down the platform, looking for an available seat through the windows, not in a hurry because the train would leave soon. I'm a regular commuter, I'm a worldly bird, I'm London savvy. Check me out with my assured stroll further down the platform.
7. Then a uniformed bloke blew a whistle and I started running and leapt into the train. The change in my gait and expression was likely quite comical.

Monday 14 April 2014

Today's observations 14.04.14

1. I don't care what anyone says; PCs are infinitely more useable than phones or tablets.
2. Cashpoints, in my opinion, bring out the fudge of dumbness in people. Always the person in front of me. I've never seen a more vacant and extreme poise of perplexity than a hopeful cash withdrawer who has been asked, predictively, a number of questions in a dem for the ATM to provide withdrawer a service. After the token 467attempts at entering the numerical PIN (a code, I'll bet, the withdrawer has used before), the code is accepted (perhaps through pity) the shoulders and furrowed brow relaxes when she realises that she is nearly there. It's a little bit marvellous that the stage that *really* stumps the withdrawer is the totally unreasonable question of "do you want an advice slip?" The confusion resumes. Even with the notion that it's a Yes/No answer, and even if that's categorically too taxing, then she at leaat has a 50% chance of unwittingly choosing the correct option, she is still at a loss what to do.
3. I'm tempted to offer her assistance for solely aid purposes.
4. 1.5minutes later, I'm tempted to offer assistance because I'm getting annoyed.
5. A mother chastising her child, on a train, is audio-amplified.
6. Annie: Wooooaaah! maaam! Maaam! I can see an aeroplane! Gahhh! Arghhh! An aeroplane!
Me: Wow! Check that out! What *colour* is the aeroplane!
Annie: White!
Me: That's cool. What's your *favourite* colour Annie?
Annie: Simon.
Tom: Yeah, Simon.
7. Wheely suitcases. What the *hell* are you doing? Everyone uses them in stations. It triples the population of the station concourse. They are fucking crap. At the top of an escalator, everyone grinds to a bundled-bottleneck because that stupid man has *STOPPED* to pull that pathetic lever up so he doesn't have to actually carry his bag. He also walks very slowly in the following 10yards, as if gauging the contrast between moving escalated floor and ordinary station floor. This causes the bottleneck to stay stagnant; resulting in commuters having to engage much more than they'd choose.

Saturday 12 April 2014

Today's observations 11.04.14

1. How ironic! I went to Southend today and wanted to write about it. "Today's observations" got autochecked to "Today's observe stuns", which is much more fitting for my South Essex jaunt.
2. I see young girls in town centres chewing the fat and making idle sweet chit chat over their skinny Mochas in Costa. I love this so much. I love that they are able to sit over a hot drink and have a lovely chat without damaging their body or offending other clientele or getting engaged or something stupid.
3. This sound socialising behaviour is a far cry from my own teenage activities. We grabbed a drink in either a corner shop or a pub. We grabbed food from either Nan's or a chip shop. We didn't talk, we just scrutinised music acts and popular people. It wasn't very positive. But it was muse-rich.
4. Southend was actually lovely. The sun was out, it was 11am, and I would hazard a guess that the majority of the scroats were still in bed.
5. Apart from one guy. He was walking a Pit Bull cross with Woolly Mammoth down the High St, shouting at people who were staring at him *because he was shouting*. The vicious circle of this rather understanble confrontation was lost on him. He was also bare chested, which was optimistic for the 11am sunshine. You could see the goose pimples on the cocky clown.
6. Southend has a *massive* Primark and a shop whose sole purpose as to apply Eye Lash extensions. It was called Lashlicous or something. I'm not into that sort of accessorising, but I tell you what readers, I *really* wanted to have some fluttery eye lashes stuck on.
7. I'd like to highlight a scenario of my stereo typical Britishness. I made a simple transaction in a shop yesterday. I purchased some slip on cheap shoes in a rather unethical large cheap retail clothing store in Southend.  This is the conversation on the transaction taking place:
(I hand over shows to cashier)
Me: Thanks.
Her: £4.99
(I hand over £5 note)
Me: Thanks
(She hands me back the change)
Me: Thanks
(She hands me the bagged shoes)
Me: Thanks so much
Me: Thaks very much, cheerio.
8. I know that the 10 Free Minutes on the Red Hot Channels have to cater for a diverse audience. But it doesn't have to be that diverse. Good grief.
9. Those piece of shit crap Primark shoes broke when I was at my next appointment.
10. Rules do driving. Never chance a stored wee, even if you think you'll be ok. Some prat on the A12 will have other ideas, and then you are up the creek with just a crap Primark bag that's made lf of brown paper.
11. Never think that your OH will want to go to sleep when he arrives home from his night out. He wants to tell you all about it.....staggeringly.....schhhhloooowwwwly.


Thursday 10 April 2014

Today's observations 10.04.14

1. The annoyance of someone else's alarm clock sounding, repeatedly, whilst being repeatedly "snoozed" is disproportionately high.
2. Water....the ..taste of...at 3:54am...after a ...night...out. Can't ...describe...how good it tastes...
3. Announcing that a cull of your Facebook friends is looming has to be one of the most wanky and unreasonable things to do ever.
4. Things that are not supposed to be understood:
a. Quantum Physics
b. Tax calculations from Inland Revenue, including tax codes and their sporadic allocations of such.
c. Pensions and how they are actually formed and how they are different from just saving money.
d. Talcum Powder.
e. Windows 8
f. Any call centre operator.
5. This is a worthy scenario of a mention. You are on the bus laden with small wobbly children and bags. You press the button to stop the bus. Bus stops at your stop. You gather children and shopping and venture down the aisle to the bus doors to disembark. At some point midway, you realise that the bus has not actually stopped fully. Inevitably, the bus will actually come to a halt and fling you forwards - and there is nothing for you and the kids to hold onto. In fact, you have no available hands with which to grab a supporting rail or seat in preparation for the dramatic halt.  In a calculating split second, you root your feet, optimistically, to the bus floor and pull the children close into you; forming a child tree from which they can cling to. You wait for the stopping force to happen, and hope for the best.
6. Leaving soiled dishes to *soak* the sink also means *I cannot be bothered to wash up and so I shall leave it there for another person to do it*.
7. You know you are in a rough bit of the town centre when men shout at their dogs in the street (Note: the dog really didn't care. He *eye-rolled* his skinny owner with disdain).
8. I hate generalisations. I really do.
9. But, if I could categorise all the rude people I meet by demographic, they are 98% OAP and female.
10. The kindest people I meet are teenage girls. Well done you parents.
11. I received a pension statement through recently. It had a potential balance of what I can expect to receive on retirement. I don't think there was any correspondence missing from this statement, so I am a little unsure of its accuracy. The balance was meagre, and that's being kind. Does someone top this up when I retire? The government? The Old Persons Club? That balance can't be it can it? Kevin and I cant retire that. Can someone please sort this.
12. So that's why the OAPs are rude.


Wednesday 9 April 2014

Today's observations 09.04.14

1. You can accurately measure the GDP of any given housing estate by the girth of the rolled cigarettes.
2. The more expensive crisps are the tastiest.
3. The more expensive crisps have more gum-slicing potential.
4. A partially constructed Kinder Egg toy, where the absent pieces are actually *missing* , is surely a crying matter; whatever your age and experience.
5. I got the FLAVOUR tonight. I didn't resist.
6. A suspect nappy smell, when you are with your other-half  (let's call him OH for the sake of ease) in a public place, will never prompt an instant physical reaction from him. It will rather gauge a *puzzled* and *perplexed* look. It's almost as if the very concept of a soiled nappy could never happen in his presence. Does this scenario actually *warrant* an action? Does this action have to be implemented *right now*. How very taxing indeed.  Oh. Someone's already sorted it.
7. I'm rigourously calorie counting at the mo. I have a set plan of XX kcal per day. The measurements are sound during the day. They change a bit when I've got the FLAVOUR and need to add sporadic wine consumption. To summarise, I've had 0.02grams of breakfast today, 0.06grams of dinner and some wine.
8. I did properly log the satsuma, to be fair.
9. Supermarket pricing got interesting. The shelving label now gives the price per unit. Nappies are £0.01 per unit. Baby wipes are £0.02 per unit. Multipack crisps are £0.15 per unit. And so on. Except for wine. They don't price that per unit. Coz no one gives a shit.
10. The calorie counting continues. I can now *input* exercise to win back calories to consume on my trendy diet app. It's awesome. I burnt 50kcal walking to the pub. I burnt 345kcal coming home. I was well hot and sweaty on the return trip. Phew. I ran a bit too, coz I had some Scampi Fries.
11. Don't ask children for "a bite" of whatever they are eating. For some reason, they place it in your mouth at the wrong angle to which it was intended. Which results in you clamping down on a Pringles that actually enters *between your teeth* and nips your gum. 12. I didn't really have a satsuma.

Tuesday 8 April 2014

Today's observations 08.04.14

1. Our family are starting to create our own rituals. My parents/sister family didn't really have anything specific; we didn't have Sunday roasts, holidays or established friends to see. It's nice to note that my family are starting to have a Sunday ritual. We nurse off our hangovers, every Sunday without fail, in McGintys. It's a strategic location choice; they make tea in a pot and sell Cadburys Twirl. In addition, it's relatively close to Crown Pools car park to top up the car park should, y'know, we want to stay a bit longer to toy with having a cheeky beer.
2. Regional accents are funny. "Open that!" demanded my toddler of a Kinder Egg "open that, what?", I requested. "Open that, Pur. Lee. Urze." she said. Pur-Lee-urze? I asked my son how his Kinder Egg was faring. "Noice".  Gotta love the bumpkins.
3. I notice lots of young guys are sporting beards. I have to say, I'm rather partial to face hair. There was one guy in a doorway in Ipswich today that had a beard so full and voluptuous, that I wanted to test it's form and malleability. I wanted to probe it to see if it crackled. Like pubic hair.
4. In fact, there was so many beardy men in town today, it was like a Game of Throne set. The foul language contribute to my theory further.
5. I'm trying to get the kids to help me tidy up after them. I use a kindly form of bribery to get them to tidy away one lot of activities to make way for the next one. I think they are old enough to do this. After a couple of attempts, it's confirmed to me that they are old enough.  It's also confirmed that they just don't want to. My son, for example, was told that if he helped to tidy away a jigsaw (when I say help, I'd have been happy for him to put one solitary piece in the box), that I point out he had emptied from the box for no reason, then he could have a Kinder Egg. Kinder Eggs work well usually. However, his blank face-  void of any expression at all - told me that he wasn't even listening to me. I'd wager that as soon as I knelt poised over the scattered jigsaw puzzle and held the open jigsaw box as a gesture to fill it, he completely zoned out. You could almost see the shutters form over his brain. No amount of Ferarro plastic crap was going to tempt him into being helpful.
6. He did help a little later. The Haribo was Plan B. He filled the box with the jigsaw. He picked up the filled box to show me his achievement (and no doubt, claim his award). Unfortunately, the box had been also opened from the bottom (likely by him) so all the pieces fell back out again over his feet.
7. I saw another baby-wearer in town yesterday. She had a young baby in a ring-sling. I was embarrassed to make eye contact. I felt that we were supposed to be an alliance against the world.  I felt that the toddler strapped to my strained spine meant that we were on the same team. But that assumption made me feel like a dickhead.  And her toddler was chewing on a yoghurt bar. And mine was eating a Kinder Egg. She likely right slagged me off at her Sling Meet, which was no doubt where she was headed.
8. If a giant hand (let's say for God's for example) gathered up all the country's traffic lights with one fail swoop and held them like a giant bouquet, turned them all onto red light, and then dropped them all in Ipswich, then that would be the same as it is now.

Monday 7 April 2014

Today's observations 07.04.14

1. When you walk into a spit'n'sawdust pub with children, you get death radar glares from the regs. They are watching football. They have £60 riding on this game. They have Ramsey to score. Your kids have totally fucked over the experience. Their eyes have now no choice but to be consistently distracted from the plasma screen to your children who keep peeping at them from behind the bar stool. 2. Don't under estimate these spit'n'sawdust pubs. They have staff, and occasionally punters, that actually really like kids. 3. For parties with children in tow, the momentous and massive power of a dog in a pub is mind blowing. That dog holds the key to the success of your pint outing. That dog will, if you play your cards right and if the owner is game, make your kids entire day. 4. Until you have to say goodbye to the rather cheesed off looking dog. 5. It's a fairly mature movement, but when you have some time, check out the nutritional value of regular food stuffs. We've been had. We've been eating absolute crap for years. And it's all prettied up to look great. 6. A middle aged woman supping a pint of Guiness is *always* going to look like she would a. Be interesting and b. Be a good friend. 7. Contrary to what's socially acceptable, I do feel better with a sun tan. 8. That turn from from sobriety, but not quite squiffy, can change the world. It is at this point that you get the "flavour" (as Flanagan puts it). The FLAVOUR. It changes everything: the day's plans, perspectives, boundaries, willpower and the total set-up of the day that becomes wildly different to before you sipped that Merlot 30mins ago. It makes you want to get changed into something more "go outy". It makes you want to text people to see what they are up to. It makes you want to buy cigarettes. 9. There are so many ornaments in our local McGintys pub. I can't believe nobody has stolen them. There are mustard jars whiskey glasses, token horseshoes and metal horse things. They are totally thievable. And they are still here. 10. On closer inspection, they are all stuck down. Many of the jars have handles missing from where someone has tried to prise the ornament off the shelf and it's stuck fast, thus tearing the handle from the jar.

Sunday 6 April 2014

Today's observations 06.04.14

1. The epitaph of pain can be associated with a toddlers toe-nail and your thigh at 2:19am.
2. A half-asleep, whining toddler does tend to being out my (ashamedly) irate side; I'm not as patient as I would ordinarily choose.
3. When you look at your Smartphone in the middle of the night, it actually feels as though you have been blinded by the burning Sun's cyber rays of doom.
4. That moment when child waddles, semi conscious, into your room in the middle of the night and falls over something on the floor (scatter cushions, bra, book, iPad) and you simply cannot help but guffaw a little.
5. There isn't much that makes the world a better place than finding a £5 note tucked away somewhere in your purse.
6. There isn't much that sparks irrational annoyance than finding said £5 tucked away in your other half's wallet.
7. If there was just one website for everything, the world would be an easier place.
8. Chinese Takeaway etiquette is a funny one. Just how loud or extreme can one's extremities be (amongst family) when a seethingly hot noodle jumps of your spoon and slaps itself, sizzling, on your bare chin?
9. Motorbike noise is unseemingly and an insult to humankind.