a sudden onset of middle age

Having been nagged from several quarters lately about my lack of blogging, thought I'd update. Most often, the reason I don't blog is because I've got so much to rant about, I just don't have he time to get it all down! Also, don't really like picture-less blogging. (Sorry Nessa if that hyphen is in the wrong place)

Okaaaaay - firstly, let me draw your attenion to the 'Save me' link on the left. This is to do with the current ban on hunting in this country, and the fact it may soon be under scrutiny due to political changes. The fear is that the law may be repealed. Anyhoo, check it out, think this is important.

The next rant comes from today's guest publication: 'The Manual Of Getting Fucking Old Suddenly', which I seemed to have opened without realising.

I decided (clearly without giving this due consideration to the lengthy consequences) to take Oliver swimming. What I didn't bargain on was the sudden need to visit M&S for a new swimming cossie and the hour in the bathroom spent hacking back the undergrowth with razors, scissors and depilatory creams. Phew. It's all a bit exhausting to tell you the truth. And another thing: I bought a swimming costume. From Marks & Spencer. With tummy control. Middle aged, that's me. (hyphen needed??) The days of purchasing a bikini from New Look with detachable straps are long gone then...... AND another thing - the other day I needed a new moisturiser. Post purchase, I wound up standing in the bathroom staring in disbelief at a bottle of oil of Olay with spf15 and smelling like my Mum. Not that there's anything wrong with that per se, I just didn't imagine turning into her for at least another ten years.

This is the costume I plumped for:

Looks kind of sexy on her huh? Now imagine a polar opposite and you're on the right lines of how I actually look in this....

After huffing, puffing and sweating in the changing rooms to try on 3 of the buggers, I was rewarded by a concise and matter-of-factly stated observation from Oliver: 'Mum, I think you look better with your clothes on.' After delivering this killer blow, he then stuck his thumb back in his gob and settled back to relax for 5 minutes leaving me to contemplate my cellulite.

And so to craft:

Last weekend was the UKS cyber-crop. A monopoly theme this time. I took part in the Mystery Kit and pre-cop challenge, and did 2 other challenges at the Exeter crop:




And this morning I seem to have a flea bite on my arse. Little feckers.

chocs away squadron leader

Easter is now upon us, and the inevitable pressure to go and 'enjoy' various Easter activities. Here is Oliver 'enjoying' his Easter egg hunt with the Beavers.

Actually, that's probably a little unfair, since this face was just to spite me for insisting he be in my photograph. In reality, he very much enjoyed this particular egg hunt. Those in the know had their cars waiting for them at the top of the mountainous climb - those not in the know (that will be me then) had to turn around and retrace our steps the twenty miles (at least) back to the car park at the bottom. By the time I climbed wearily into the car, I had backache, a bad temper and needed a big poo.

Poking about on blogs I have found this one, which has some chic cards and sexy blog candy:

What else....hmmm... Oliver decided a couple of weeks ago that he would ride his bike, and at last 'got it'. This has sparked a sudden interest in family activity and we have been out a few times for bike rides. It also sparked a sudden panic in buying a bloody bike, as neither Mark or I actually owned one. Mine is quite embarrassingly girly, but has a basket on the front which I am inordinately excited about. I feel very academic zipping around with my basket. Tres Oxford. Never mind it always has a bottle of manky squash, my phone, my camera and Oliver's discarded coat in it, the feeling of intellectual superiority prevails. Think we need to get Oliver a bike with gears as he has to get off and walk every time we hit a minor incline. I was startled to hear him talking about when 'we were bike riding in Holland'. Turns out he meant Haldon. (it's a nearby forest, for you non-locals). Ah bless.

This is the River Exe, incidentally, as Haldon forest does NOT have a river running through it.

In scrap world, I have decided to attend some of this years Scrapaholix retreat in nearby sunny Sidmouth, and to this end, I will be spending a lovely sunny (don't bank on it) Saturday at the Sidholme Hotel scrapping my little heart out with good company (surely) and good (hope so) food.

Scrapping achieved: this layout inspired by a challenge over on Indigo Mill. The challenge was to scrap the story of your name, but since mine is pretty dullsville, and the story behind it is non-existent, I have scrapped the story of Oliver's name. Marginally more exciting to me as I had some input there. In short, practically the night before he was born, (as prepared as ever) we cobbled together a list of names on a scrap of paper which we both found barely acceptable. These names were all girls names as I had it fixed in my mind I was going to have a girl. On the back of this scrap was one boys name - just in case. Oliver. You know the rest.

Other news: bashed out another hour of maths on Wednesday, and find that I get fractions, but decimals are a bit of a mystery to me, although they shouldn't be. I have asked Mark to help me with this, so I am looking forward to the look on his face when he wonders how I have got his far in life not really understanding 'to the power of ten' ha ha.