Ho Ho Ho (and as my friend Tanya would say- 'where, where, where?')

It probably speaks volumes that (ex events-waitress style) I had a three page ‘run sheet’ for xmas day food preparation that began with mango-sorbet making last Thursday, moved into gluten-free stuffing creation on Friday and ended with ‘water on for peas and roasting juices on the stove for gravy’ at 12.15 Christmas day when, thanks to my open plan dining-to-kitchen arrangement everyone laughed and took photos whilst my toddler screamed in terror (of the electric carving knife, and grandparents are cruel) and my husband bailed on his ‘gravy-stirring’ duties to calm said child. Dad stepped in to stir gravy, mum followed behind me with sadly shrivelled little peas, toddler was becalmed with his ‘Mr Potato Head’ and the turkey was served. A word on the turkey- massive. And also huge and floppy and difficult to wrangle with the stuffing and butter and the kitchen string then even harder to carve as my child caterwauled and people asked me to ‘pose again like Nigella’. Fuckers….
But after all that the bird was (insert vegetarian alert here) very yummy and has made great sandwiches for us and some stray neighbours for three days now.
Master Finn played with his many toys (yay for Tonka, Fisher-Price and the beautiful rocking Pony he has named Hoodi-ooey) but mostly Mr Potato-Head because I ROCK at picking presents.
We have been semi-drunk on leftover wines for three days, almost like those irresponsible adutls we used to be, and (insert spoiler alert for prim types here) I’ve been getting some sugar in my bowl, a little jelly in my jelly-roll etc etc.

Thank god the cleaners came today though; my mum has shaky arthritis wrists and we’ve been finding peas in some highly unusual places!

However you did it, I give you this sentiment: ‘merrily met, merrily set, now parted we, blessed be.’

Pics will be up later.

monogomy is for marriage, not for blogs

I'm off this grid for a while, endulging instead in the cheap, fast and dirty world of flash-fic and tiddly-wikis.
It's all a bit like some frottage against a nightclub wall really.
anon for now!

in sickness and in (sickness)

I was feeling a bit bragful yesterday that we were all on holiday as a family, everyone was healthy for a change, and we were about to head up to a lovely country town where our friends live opposite a river with their two kids, two acres, tow cats and a dog.
This was going to be real free-range time for Finn, pecking in the dirt with three-year-old Gil and five year old Hermoine. Chris and I were going to drink on the porch with Gabe and Andrew as we admired our (playing nicely of course) offspring.

But alas I felt bragful too soon. When I went into Finn overnight it was to find him lying in a pool of snot, tears and sweat. I gave him Panadol, put a fresh sheet under his poor damp little head, and went back to bed myself with fingers crossed. But this morning he has spots, and the kind Doc has diagnosed a ‘random virus’.

So no road trip this time round. But on the bright side perhaps I’ll get in some gardening, distress the very ugly sideboard that has good ‘bone-structure’ and cook a meal for some friends or neighbours.

And Finn is a calm bub when unwell. He knows the drill: stewed pears, cold porridge, raisins, cartoons, cuddles and warm baths. If only adult men would listen to their good nurses the dreaded ‘man flu’ could be stopped in its tracks…