It's hard when you're nine and in love.
It's even harder when you have to pluck up the courage to ask your Mum when Valentine's Day is and can you have a certain person's postal address because she's moved schools.
You blush when you're nine and in love and your Mum knows about it.
He's always liked Elise.
Thursday, 22 January 2009
Fancy a Pint?
I felt quite good today because I was finally allowed to give blood. I've been prevented up until now due to body piercings and pregnancies.
I felt even better when I found that one of the staff was an old friend I hadn't seen for twenty years and he's just the same lovely guy I knew then. And he's still just as crazy because he's still climbing without ropes even after falling off a mountain years ago and breaking both his legs.
Then I felt good coming back to work, because if more people gave blood, more people would survive nasty accidents like my friend who came off his motorbike years ago, skidded fifty feet on his head, landed head first in railings and tore our souls apart by staying in a coma. Then I felt good about giving blood because the people who gave him their blood saved his life and instead of being in the vegetative state the doctors warned us he'd be in the for the rest of his life, he survived the brain operation and walked out of the hospital thanking the nurses as he went. I feel good because I still see him and it's great to hug a person who makes you laugh who you thought you'd never see again.
And now I still feel good because one of my closest friends has gone a clear year since having the cancer removed from her liver after collapsing on her son's birthday. I feel good because the night I received the phone call to say she was likely to die, the people who gave all the blood to her because her own liver was bleeding so profusely saved her life too. She was sad a while ago because she's 42 next month. I reminded her she nearly didn't make it to her 40th and that I was glad she was 42 because it meant I still had my friend.
It's only just under a pint and it doesn't take long. Why don't more people do it?
I felt even better when I found that one of the staff was an old friend I hadn't seen for twenty years and he's just the same lovely guy I knew then. And he's still just as crazy because he's still climbing without ropes even after falling off a mountain years ago and breaking both his legs.
Then I felt good coming back to work, because if more people gave blood, more people would survive nasty accidents like my friend who came off his motorbike years ago, skidded fifty feet on his head, landed head first in railings and tore our souls apart by staying in a coma. Then I felt good about giving blood because the people who gave him their blood saved his life and instead of being in the vegetative state the doctors warned us he'd be in the for the rest of his life, he survived the brain operation and walked out of the hospital thanking the nurses as he went. I feel good because I still see him and it's great to hug a person who makes you laugh who you thought you'd never see again.
And now I still feel good because one of my closest friends has gone a clear year since having the cancer removed from her liver after collapsing on her son's birthday. I feel good because the night I received the phone call to say she was likely to die, the people who gave all the blood to her because her own liver was bleeding so profusely saved her life too. She was sad a while ago because she's 42 next month. I reminded her she nearly didn't make it to her 40th and that I was glad she was 42 because it meant I still had my friend.
It's only just under a pint and it doesn't take long. Why don't more people do it?
Wednesday, 21 January 2009
Out Of The Mouths ....
My conversation with Sam in the car this morning.
Sam: Ooh Mummy, there's a lady on a horse over there.
Me: So there is, we'll have to drive slowly past them, so we don't frighten the horse.
Sam: OK Mummy. Errr, Mummy, where do horses come from?
Oh no - THAT conversation.
Me: They come from their Mummy horses tummy Sam.
Sam: Oh. I KNOW THAT!! But how do they get in there?
Ooooh NOOO!!!!.
Me: Well, they just grow. Like you grew in my tummy.
Sam: So where did the Mummy horse come from?
AW HECK!!!!
Me: Errrr, from their Mummy too.
Sam: Oh Mummy, you just don't know where they come from do you? I'll tell you. Horses come from the factory and cows come from the cow shop.
Sam: Ooh Mummy, there's a lady on a horse over there.
Me: So there is, we'll have to drive slowly past them, so we don't frighten the horse.
Sam: OK Mummy. Errr, Mummy, where do horses come from?
Oh no - THAT conversation.
Me: They come from their Mummy horses tummy Sam.
Sam: Oh. I KNOW THAT!! But how do they get in there?
Ooooh NOOO!!!!.
Me: Well, they just grow. Like you grew in my tummy.
Sam: So where did the Mummy horse come from?
AW HECK!!!!
Me: Errrr, from their Mummy too.
Sam: Oh Mummy, you just don't know where they come from do you? I'll tell you. Horses come from the factory and cows come from the cow shop.
Tuesday, 20 January 2009
They're Mine and I Love Them
There are times when they are sad because they're poorly and have to take a day off school.
And there are other times when they just love to goof around together.
Josh, Maddie, Eleanor & Sam
I LOVE YOU
Mum
xx
Josh, Maddie, Eleanor & Sam
I LOVE YOU
Mum
xx
Diversity Amongst Colleagues
I work for an unusual organisation. An organisation that takes great pride in its remit. An organisation that commands great respect around the world and excels itself on its commitment to excellency, both in its standards and its applications.
I've been with them for 18 years. I've covered various roles, from pushing forward identification of previously unknown servicemens remains to seeing an honoured commemoration, being a PA to the senior directors, working in the Desk Top Publishing department producing advertising literature and information leaflets through to what I'm doing today - working in the sector that deals primarily with our furthest countries.
We take care of our staff and through day to day contact with our British managers overseas and locally engaged managers we effectively pull off a comraderie and supportive network that is so sorely lacking in today's multi-national organisations.
It's like a big family. I witnessed this first hand last year when I had the opportunity to travel on business to Egypt for a horticultural training conference. With an office in Heliopolis, it seemed more prudent to send the British staff over there to facilitate a training programme primarily for the Arab staff. With a group of men from Ghana, Gambia, Egypt, Israel, Lebanon, Syria and Sudan the mixture of personalities and local dialects was extensive. The young men from Gambia had never even set foot out of their village and there they were being thrust on a plane, flying business class and being set up in a five star hotel in the outskirts of Cairo. I witnessed their complete wonder and amazement at this and saw them struggle to use a knife and fork. At one point one of them was completely overwhelmed with the lift and it took a few attempts to show him how to use it only for me to simplify it by telling him that level 5 meant sleep, level G meant food and going out - he did not need to press any other buttons - those were the floors he needed and one of us would always be there waiting for him so he didn't get lost.
To see Egyptians and Israelies laughing and joking together was heartening. To hear them joking about the owernship of the Sinai desert and the modern problems going on made me realise that although the problems are globally transmitted via the media, the average man on the street just wants it all to end. We're constantly brainwashed into thinking that all muslim men are out to blow us up, but my experience of them was that they were extremely decent. At times when they spoke Arabic in my presence they apologised for their rudeness and spoke English. At various parts of our trips in the less desirable areas, they guided me to the safer parts. In the Khan el Khalili market one of them even dressed down the trader who tried to pull one over on me for taking advantage of the fact I was a Western woman clearly out of her depth being haggled by four at a time!
But today, the whole ethos of who I work for was laid down with staggering compassion. We have a cemetery in Gaza and various cemeteries in Israel. The Israeli staff have every right to have issues with the Gaza staff because that's where their politics lead them. But this week our site in Gaza was bombed. The Head Gardener lost his house and our staff are left without food because the stocks they had have now run out. Somehow a journalist has managed to get into the site and take photos of the devastation and this afternoon we received a call from the DA in Israel to say that the Israeli staff had asked whether we could authorise payment through our accounts to provide their colleagues in Gaza with food and supplies and sweets for the children. Our guy in Jerusalem is going shopping today for the goods to be taken over the border on Thursday.
It's days like this I'm proud to work with men like that. Men who see beyond the politics and see the humanity and suffering of their colleagues and do everything they can to help.
I've been with them for 18 years. I've covered various roles, from pushing forward identification of previously unknown servicemens remains to seeing an honoured commemoration, being a PA to the senior directors, working in the Desk Top Publishing department producing advertising literature and information leaflets through to what I'm doing today - working in the sector that deals primarily with our furthest countries.
We take care of our staff and through day to day contact with our British managers overseas and locally engaged managers we effectively pull off a comraderie and supportive network that is so sorely lacking in today's multi-national organisations.
It's like a big family. I witnessed this first hand last year when I had the opportunity to travel on business to Egypt for a horticultural training conference. With an office in Heliopolis, it seemed more prudent to send the British staff over there to facilitate a training programme primarily for the Arab staff. With a group of men from Ghana, Gambia, Egypt, Israel, Lebanon, Syria and Sudan the mixture of personalities and local dialects was extensive. The young men from Gambia had never even set foot out of their village and there they were being thrust on a plane, flying business class and being set up in a five star hotel in the outskirts of Cairo. I witnessed their complete wonder and amazement at this and saw them struggle to use a knife and fork. At one point one of them was completely overwhelmed with the lift and it took a few attempts to show him how to use it only for me to simplify it by telling him that level 5 meant sleep, level G meant food and going out - he did not need to press any other buttons - those were the floors he needed and one of us would always be there waiting for him so he didn't get lost.
To see Egyptians and Israelies laughing and joking together was heartening. To hear them joking about the owernship of the Sinai desert and the modern problems going on made me realise that although the problems are globally transmitted via the media, the average man on the street just wants it all to end. We're constantly brainwashed into thinking that all muslim men are out to blow us up, but my experience of them was that they were extremely decent. At times when they spoke Arabic in my presence they apologised for their rudeness and spoke English. At various parts of our trips in the less desirable areas, they guided me to the safer parts. In the Khan el Khalili market one of them even dressed down the trader who tried to pull one over on me for taking advantage of the fact I was a Western woman clearly out of her depth being haggled by four at a time!
But today, the whole ethos of who I work for was laid down with staggering compassion. We have a cemetery in Gaza and various cemeteries in Israel. The Israeli staff have every right to have issues with the Gaza staff because that's where their politics lead them. But this week our site in Gaza was bombed. The Head Gardener lost his house and our staff are left without food because the stocks they had have now run out. Somehow a journalist has managed to get into the site and take photos of the devastation and this afternoon we received a call from the DA in Israel to say that the Israeli staff had asked whether we could authorise payment through our accounts to provide their colleagues in Gaza with food and supplies and sweets for the children. Our guy in Jerusalem is going shopping today for the goods to be taken over the border on Thursday.
It's days like this I'm proud to work with men like that. Men who see beyond the politics and see the humanity and suffering of their colleagues and do everything they can to help.
Note To Self
Before hitting the sack at night, take your eye make-up off.
That way, in the morning when you're still half asleep you won't mistake the nail polish remover for eye cleanser.
Man, that stung!
That way, in the morning when you're still half asleep you won't mistake the nail polish remover for eye cleanser.
Man, that stung!
Monday, 19 January 2009
Challenge
Joshua kills me, he really does. Today when I got home from work he presented a note to me that he wanted permission to hand to Eleanor. It was effectively a long winded IOU with a bill for replacement for the toys of his she'd destroyed, lost or misplaced. I'll try to scan it, as it's hilarious.
But as ever, with my children, if they want to challenge each other over things, they have to realise that everything has a consequence as well as a result. So, to counter the monetary demand for vandalising his toys I pointed out to him that on numerous occasions I had found his PS2 games carelessly strewn around his bedroom out of their cases. Replacement for such items retailing at about £30 each, but I'd relent and only charge him £20 replacement as they were bound to be damaged. To date with the four I picked up yesterday this has put him in £80 deficit. He only charged Eleanor £35.
He's gone off to think about it.
Reminds me of the day he challenged me to go a week without Facebook. So I challenged him to go a week eating his vegetables without moaning.
Game, set and match to me.
But as ever, with my children, if they want to challenge each other over things, they have to realise that everything has a consequence as well as a result. So, to counter the monetary demand for vandalising his toys I pointed out to him that on numerous occasions I had found his PS2 games carelessly strewn around his bedroom out of their cases. Replacement for such items retailing at about £30 each, but I'd relent and only charge him £20 replacement as they were bound to be damaged. To date with the four I picked up yesterday this has put him in £80 deficit. He only charged Eleanor £35.
He's gone off to think about it.
Reminds me of the day he challenged me to go a week without Facebook. So I challenged him to go a week eating his vegetables without moaning.
Game, set and match to me.
The Gym
I dragged my sorry butt down there today for the assessment I've been meaning to do for the past two months. But why, oh why, did I book it for the busiest time on the busiest day of the week so that I could look a completely gormless novice gonk in front of everybody?
I really don't know how I'm going to get through the next 12 weeks. My doubts being further exacerbated by the trainer's insistence that I'd get quicker results if I visit 3-4 times per week. Hello dude, it took two months to get this visit in - are you having a laugh? I've promised I'll do 2-3. After all, if I want the results, I've got to put the effort in.
Then there's the ball. I don't think he quite appreciated my apprehension at using that, considering the last time I used one I was giving birth. Big giant bouncy balls = intense pain. But then, maybe that's the point. Then I'm asked if I can lift my body weight. UH HELLO!!!! I struggled to do 15 reps with a 4kg weight in each hand - do I look like Hercules?!!
And please. What's with the blokes in front of the mirrors? They claim it's to check their posture, but do they really need four other blokes round them admiring their finely honed physiques? I've come to the conclusion that girls visit the toilets in pairs, men go down the gym in pairs. Maybe the boostering testosterone levels call for the pack effect.
Also, apparently I have high calf muscles - caused by wearing high heels. His advice; wear lower ones. I don't think so. I like my heels. Come up with another solution Buster cos it ain't gonna happen. So he did. Sadist. Rolling my calf musles over a stiff foam pad to stretch out the knots was just plain cruel. Then I had to do the other leg!
But the one thing I did go for - I'm not allowed to do at the moment. Abs. Anything abdominal causes intense pain in my lower back, so the muscles have to be strengthened. The solution being that somehow using the ball again, pushed with feet flat against the wall I adopt an Eddie the Eagle pose and somehow push up to work the muscle. That hurt!
I really don't know how I'm going to get through the next 12 weeks. My doubts being further exacerbated by the trainer's insistence that I'd get quicker results if I visit 3-4 times per week. Hello dude, it took two months to get this visit in - are you having a laugh? I've promised I'll do 2-3. After all, if I want the results, I've got to put the effort in.
Then there's the ball. I don't think he quite appreciated my apprehension at using that, considering the last time I used one I was giving birth. Big giant bouncy balls = intense pain. But then, maybe that's the point. Then I'm asked if I can lift my body weight. UH HELLO!!!! I struggled to do 15 reps with a 4kg weight in each hand - do I look like Hercules?!!
And please. What's with the blokes in front of the mirrors? They claim it's to check their posture, but do they really need four other blokes round them admiring their finely honed physiques? I've come to the conclusion that girls visit the toilets in pairs, men go down the gym in pairs. Maybe the boostering testosterone levels call for the pack effect.
Also, apparently I have high calf muscles - caused by wearing high heels. His advice; wear lower ones. I don't think so. I like my heels. Come up with another solution Buster cos it ain't gonna happen. So he did. Sadist. Rolling my calf musles over a stiff foam pad to stretch out the knots was just plain cruel. Then I had to do the other leg!
But the one thing I did go for - I'm not allowed to do at the moment. Abs. Anything abdominal causes intense pain in my lower back, so the muscles have to be strengthened. The solution being that somehow using the ball again, pushed with feet flat against the wall I adopt an Eddie the Eagle pose and somehow push up to work the muscle. That hurt!
Labels:
Just As I Am,
Karen,
Let's Get Physical
Sunday, 4 January 2009
The Study Has To Wait
Because, woop de woop, my lounge is finally getting done!!!
After waiting years, and I do mean years the ceiling has been assessed and the insurance company have agreed to have it replaced. The stipple's going and I'm having it replaced with a flat finish. They've also agreed to replace the carpet due to the water damage from the bathroom leak, so today I visited some stores and had costed an oak laminate floor - they're coming to measure next weekend. The builder has already been round to see the ceiling and I'm just waiting on the quote.
I've also paid for and ordered in the 12 rolls of wallpaper for the walls. I'm done with flat finish painted walls - I like detail. All I need to do now is to find some light fittings in a gold finished crystal chandelier effect and large slatted wooden blinds for the front window. I'll be putting floating oak shelves around the walls and finishing off the room with a large rug to soften the harshness of the wood.
Should look nice when it's done.
After waiting years, and I do mean years the ceiling has been assessed and the insurance company have agreed to have it replaced. The stipple's going and I'm having it replaced with a flat finish. They've also agreed to replace the carpet due to the water damage from the bathroom leak, so today I visited some stores and had costed an oak laminate floor - they're coming to measure next weekend. The builder has already been round to see the ceiling and I'm just waiting on the quote.
I've also paid for and ordered in the 12 rolls of wallpaper for the walls. I'm done with flat finish painted walls - I like detail. All I need to do now is to find some light fittings in a gold finished crystal chandelier effect and large slatted wooden blinds for the front window. I'll be putting floating oak shelves around the walls and finishing off the room with a large rug to soften the harshness of the wood.
Should look nice when it's done.
Wednesday, 31 December 2008
Back to the crafts
I got a new sewing machine for Christmas. It's not much news to most, but to me, it was the best present.
Now I need to contact Gretchen...
Now I need to contact Gretchen...
Wednesday, 24 December 2008
'Twas The Night Before Christmas
Make the reindeer glitter food trail.
Take porridge oats, mix them with glitter and give them a blitz.
Sprinkle it outside the house on the path for the reindeer to see glinting in the moonlight.
That will lead the way.
Check where Santa is travelling to on the Norad website.
Not long until he reaches England!!
Leave out beer, milk and mince pies for Santa.
Don't forget Rudolph, he likes nice cold water and fresh carrots.
Time for bed - stockings at the ready!!!
Wait for them to fall asleep.... and enjoy the peace and quiet.
MERRY CHRISTMAS
xxxx
Saturday, 22 November 2008
Making it feel like home again.
The house has been neglected. Negating that neglect is now being tackled.
The house is now getting a mini-facelift.
Years of working full time, looking after four children and handling the day to day running of all things domestic, have taken their toll on the place I love to call home. For the last few months I've hated coming home. I've hated seeing the neglect. I've hated it so much I couldn't take before photographs - the sight depressed me too much. Lilac wallpaper, green door mat, plastic toy box for shoes over-spilling onto the carpet. Just... not .... nice.
But light dawns. The entrance porch has now been painted, new shoes cupboards built and fixed in, new skirting boards glossed and fixed on. New coat hooks, new shoe mat and new umbrella stand. Even a framed mirror to hide the fuse box that's bugged me for years.
The door frame and door are now sanded and primed, ready for the first gloss. It's only a 2m x 1m space, it's tiny, but it's a start. It's the first thing I see when I open the front door. It now lifts me and my heart doesn't thud down to my toes when I come home.

The study's next.

It's too dark in here - it's a great retreat for me and I love the darkness. I love the fact no natural light comes in - I lose myself in here. But it's not good when children need to sit in here at 4.30 and do homework. I need to share my space as their need is becoming greater. It's a wrench. I'm keeping the dark plum on the door side of the study, the other walls are being treated to a warm cream. Money permitting the shelves will be replaced with cupboards as I now want to hide away all paperwork and files. I think it will look neater. I also need to store the CDs that are currently shelved up the stairway - the look has worn off and I need to pull them in here.

IKEA is about to become my new retreat.
The house is now getting a mini-facelift.
Years of working full time, looking after four children and handling the day to day running of all things domestic, have taken their toll on the place I love to call home. For the last few months I've hated coming home. I've hated seeing the neglect. I've hated it so much I couldn't take before photographs - the sight depressed me too much. Lilac wallpaper, green door mat, plastic toy box for shoes over-spilling onto the carpet. Just... not .... nice.
But light dawns. The entrance porch has now been painted, new shoes cupboards built and fixed in, new skirting boards glossed and fixed on. New coat hooks, new shoe mat and new umbrella stand. Even a framed mirror to hide the fuse box that's bugged me for years.
The door frame and door are now sanded and primed, ready for the first gloss. It's only a 2m x 1m space, it's tiny, but it's a start. It's the first thing I see when I open the front door. It now lifts me and my heart doesn't thud down to my toes when I come home.
The study's next.
It's too dark in here - it's a great retreat for me and I love the darkness. I love the fact no natural light comes in - I lose myself in here. But it's not good when children need to sit in here at 4.30 and do homework. I need to share my space as their need is becoming greater. It's a wrench. I'm keeping the dark plum on the door side of the study, the other walls are being treated to a warm cream. Money permitting the shelves will be replaced with cupboards as I now want to hide away all paperwork and files. I think it will look neater. I also need to store the CDs that are currently shelved up the stairway - the look has worn off and I need to pull them in here.
IKEA is about to become my new retreat.
Friday, 14 November 2008
Who's that man with Sch name?
That's what I was asked by Joshua this morning.
'You know, the Governor of California - he's got that really long name with the Sch at the beginning. How do you pronounce it?'
It dawned on me then that the boy had no idea who 'Arnie' was. No idea about Terminator films, Twins, Kindergarten Cop..... He'd only ever known Arnie as a politician.
I'm digging out the DVDs and educating the boy. How can you grow up not knowing that part of him? It's just not right.
'You know, the Governor of California - he's got that really long name with the Sch at the beginning. How do you pronounce it?'
It dawned on me then that the boy had no idea who 'Arnie' was. No idea about Terminator films, Twins, Kindergarten Cop..... He'd only ever known Arnie as a politician.
I'm digging out the DVDs and educating the boy. How can you grow up not knowing that part of him? It's just not right.
Wednesday, 12 November 2008
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