How YOU doin'??

I think I might just still have it........well a very little bit of it anyway!

Of course, it is a nice, hot sunny day, there is every possiblity that I may have heatstroke, but this morning...........I made men (yes not one, but TWO!) look twice and one trip over his words hee hee!


Okay, so to the small print:

I was in the coffee shop (note to self - this blog should be renamed "The Coffee Shop Memoirs" note to others - I don't spend ALL day there but JK had to start somewhere and there is nothing so good for the leetle grey cells than killing them with caffeine!) trying to order my grande, non-fat, no milk, extra soy, extra espresso, no sugar, no whip, some caramel (but not tooo much), more ice, easy on the price frappucino when cute boy behind the bar attempting to memorise this order while looking in the cash till, looks up, then down, then up again

"I'm sorry, what?"

Frantically I check myself for signs of slug trails on my top or a piece of escaping boob from the new push-em-in-suck-it-out-breathe-in wonder bra I doned this morning in a moment of madness. Negative and there is no one behind me either!! I do declare, it might have been a double take - and for me!!

Smiling and in my poshest English accent (that tends to win lots of brownie points when needs must *sheepish grin*) I repeat my order. He then nervously repeats it back to me.......oh my, see what marriage has saved me from (large wink there for Mr Beehive!!)

With a small (it was small........yes .........really!) flick of my hair and a withering look ....................(oh crap, I made that bit up!) I turn my back on him and hurridly read the information laid out on how this particular coffee shop is saving the environment and how I can help (yeah, yeah, I know all that stuff, but I am a tart with a heart afterall!).

Feeling immensely confident in this new, dreamed up ability to turn a head, in walks Dr McDreamy..........okay, so not the REAL one, this one is probably at least 10 years.............11?..............alright ........................12 years younger than me, they make them so fit these days!!

It was the bra that made me do it!

Cutting off the oxygen supply to my brain, I look him straight in the eye, smile, and sashay right outta that joint, leaving a trail in my wake (hopefully not of coffee cups and bottles of water!)

My Parallel Universe

Have you ever woken up and wondered what you did to land on this planet on this particular day?? This morning has been one of those days, bear in mind that the mosquito bites are driving me insane as well, so this could all be one large hallucination!

This morning the family Beehive were all getting ready to do the first school run of the day when two vans pull into the drive. A small posse of men alight from said vehicles and explain they are here on our landlord's request to tidy and trim the trees and bushes around the periphery of the property - no problem!
The usual round up of missing small Beehives is complete and I am about to jump in the car when I hear the all too familiar voice of our lovely next door neighbour, remember, the one who mows her lawn in the pitch black of night OR at 5.30am on a Sunday morning. Standing in our driveway she is instructing the men not to touch bushes that are between the properties, claiming they are on her land and we (The Beehive clan as one) are not nice to her - of course we aren't we ask her nicely to stop mowing - what nasty neighbours we are, as if we should deny her the pleasure and allow ourselves an extra half hour of sleep!!

I shrug and don't enter into the conversation other than to add the odd rolling of eyes and precede to call our landlord - his land, his neighbour, his problem - I know, but it is whhhaaay too early to get into boundary battles AND remember the mozzie bites - they are making me somewhat venomous today!

Dear wife of poor landlord is highly apologetic and promises to sort things out.
I drive away.

Halfway to school I realise I am actually upset that I am shaking, over the fact she was so adamant that we were in the wrong to stop her mowing and also - (I don't think you ever heard about this one!) called in the cops when her friend started to pull down trees with his car that ended up falling on our house, oh this was a SECOND tree, I am not talking about the original tree that fell on our house that she then tried to chainsaw into pieces whilst it was tangled up in LIVE electric cables!!!! Hmmm. so WE are the villans eh? I am sure this is the stuff of British Reality Telly!! Neighbourhood wars!

Fast forward to a manic half hour on the treadmill to try to dispel my shakes and induce a sense of calm.

I then decide to take the three parcels for England to the Post Office. Now, this is NOT an errand to be taken lightly, at best, one can be in and out within ten, at worst, like today, nearl7y 45 minutes later!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Note to all my friends and rellys, next birthday/Christmas, you are all getting Amazon vouchers. The US Postal Service has become an American Institution - USPS actually stands for Uber Shitty Poor Service! Or maybe I am being a little harsh - perhaps it is actually more a skill that my LOCAl office takes pride in.

Firstly I need custom labels - are they in the tray where they are meant to be? No, of course not, so I politely (remember I HAVE run a mile and a half by this point and my aura is now green over red!) ask if he could pass me some from behind the counter.
"You have to get in line" he snaps back - such dulcet tones
"Thank you, you are so kind." Kowtowing I back off to the line.

On receipt, finally of my labels I now join the back of the line which has since gone from two cashiers and two people in the queue to one cashier and 9 people in the queue - they laugh at us behind closed circuit tv!

At one point, there is a little glimmer of hope, another cashier brings through till drawers and books of stamps, everyone is salivating that this might be the hour that we get through the PO and on to life outside....................no! False alarm, this was merely a set up to test our perserverence.

The first of our group leave, you were so close lady, you were third in the line, what a waste of a wait - you should have stayed........enjoy the daylight....................we'll miss you!!

Teasing us in strategic positions around this four walled prison are signs "Lightspeed Service" an advert for Star Wars stamps - of course - it would hardly be a real SIGN now would it!

Kermit the Frog is laughing at me manically from a bag for sale on a wall - I can just hear him - "Now who is the muppet, baby???"

Temperatures are rising, as are eyebrows and there is very quietly and occasionally the release of a sigh from someone leaning on the furniture - oblivious to the menacing sign about NOT doing that - Uh Oh! They may be in for more torture.

Finally it is my turn, the cashier who has been toying with us, eventually cracks and decides to open up shop......................45 minutes after stepping into this hell hole, I emerge, three parcels, $30 and my sanity lighter!

It is now time for my treat to myself - See, I burn off exactly the right amount of calories by running a mile and a half, to award myself a frappucino from the coffee shop.

I pass by two moms walking their charges in strollers, one is a single stroller, the other an obviously new, double stroller. How do I know this? Well, she is full in the delights of telling her pal all about it:

"Daahhling Manhattan simply ADOOOOREs this new stroller, he can sit next to baby Texas blah blah"

Yup right, sweet little Manhattan simply adores this place because it is out of earshot of mommy so he can practise his pronunciation:

"Shit, shit, shit" he repeats happily to himself.

I give him a big grin!!! Ah mamas, wake up and smell the coffee.

Coffee in hand, I leg it to school to pick up Little Miss Beehive before I earn myself bad-mom of the year award (again!). Pulling into the drive, the calm drains from me once more thanks to the arrival of Botox Mommy.
Yet again, she is sat in the "kiss and go" parking space in her 15L, personalized plated, larger-than-our-house-in-the-UK, Sodding Uneccessary Vehicle with her engine still running, gabbing on the phone. She does this everyday. What is wrong with turning OFF the engine???




Hmmmmm, I wonder what would happen if I recycle my empty coffee cup up her exhaust pipe???


And it is only lunchtime!!

Survival Batter

"Mummy, will you read to me tonight?"

"I can't tonight sweetheart, I have to cook dinner, daddy will read to you tonight, I will read to you tomorrow."

"Why can't daddy cook?"

"Well, he just doesn't very often"

"Can't he cook?"

"Yes, he can, you know he can."

"Oh, but you can't just live on pancakes."

And from that to this:

Screams from Master Beehive the elder's room this morning, as all three mini Beehives come wailing, naked or dressed in tutu's (we'll leave that for another time!) with cries of
"there's something on the wall", "scary bugs" "aaaaaaaggggggggghhhhh"

Mr Beehive has just driven off, so mommypower has to go into overdrive.
Dressed in a towel and hoping to god it isn't a large spider, I follow them back into the room to find a large black ant on the wall.

"Take it out mum!" encourages Master Beehive the elder jumping around behind me somewhat like a testosterone fueled gorilla ! Not that I have ever encountered a testosterone fueled gorilla , but I take comfort in imagining somewhere in the depths of the Congo, there is a gorilla mama telling her son to stop leaping around like a Master Beehive!!

Okay, okay...... let me just find my kalashnikov that I reserve for just such occasion as ant killing.......darn! It appears I have misplaced it and a piece of paper will have to do, picking up one of many littering his bedroom floor, I attempt to squash......and again.........ooops, again.........there! Got the bugger! Oh No! I have just seen the drawing on the underside, the squashed side of the paper........hanging my head, I pass it and the innards of the ant back to my son mumbling a sorry.

"It's okay, it's only Dad's father's day card" he says grinning and binning!

Maybe he will save it to go in the pancakes??

Mother-Guilt meets 1967!!

5am and we are woken again by the not-so-gentle humming of our dear neighbour and her lawnmower! This time Mr Beehive has had enough, so dressed in his Sunday best (not! but at least vaguely dressed!) he goes to confront her, and that is a scary image at 5.30am in the morning!!!!!! Ahhhh peace reigns, at least for the short while until small Beehives decide to awaken and add their harmonious chorus to the birds and lawnmowers. All I can say is thank f*** I don't live in suburbia!!

This week has been crazy even for The Beehive. I am going to rewind to last Thursday at 3pm US time when, unbeknown to me "bezzer mate", I am heading to JFK to fly to the UK for celebration of her 40th (OMG - no longer 18th or 21st parties - I am going to 40ths!!!)


This has been an ongoing plan since around February of this year, conspired by her hubby, myself and Julie (the pseudo-Spaniard!) and has involved boats, much alcohol, wax, airplanes, Soft Cell, big hair big hair mega mega big hair, many, many kleenex, a diet or two, a trail for some rather vampish looking red shoes, eleven absent children between 4, a group age of 145 between 4!! a sliding glass door, a fantasy about a trick with a strawberry somewhat reminiscent of Pricilla, Queen of the Desert, a rather large mosquito and Buffy the Vampire Slayer - only not necessarily in that order! I am not going to divulge more than that for fear of incriminating those involved - you know who you are.........and you should be ashamed..........hee hee !!

Typically, however, I don't go away often, probably one weekend in a 52 week year and that is if I am lucky......this being the one weekend that Little Miss Beehive falls poorly before I leave. Just signs of a cold, low grade fever, needing to be with me all the time, a continuous slug trail on my trousers, generally out of sorts, but nothing we can actually pinpoint. Mr Beehive assures me she will be fine with him and I am to go. after all, I am only away for three days.

By Monday morning, I notice a rather large red mark on her lower back, initially I put it down to her sitting against something firm and it leaving an imprint, but by Tuesday morning when it hasn't gone and in fact looks larger, alarm bells start to ring. By Tuesday lunchtime we have it confirmed that she does in fact have the dreaded Lyme Disease that is so rife in this area of CT agggghhh! Luckily, we are reassured, we have caught it early enough and that she did in fact have the Bullseye rash so they were able to diagnose it. If left without diagnosis, I understand that is when the problems can arise as it can attack the nervous system and cause muscular pain, arthritis and even dementia in serious untreated cases. The downside for LMB is, three weeks of giddy juice!!!!!!!! Amoxycillan - the pink candy antibiotic! We are already halfway through the first course and the second course, as suggested to me by a friend, I am going to ask for capsules that I can break up and put in her food to try and reduce the additives and colouring that she is reacting so beautifully to right now from her vantage point on the ceiling!

Of course, now I have become paranoid about the little buggers. We didn't even SEE the tick on LMB, despite checking her every night at bathtime as always. However, I have since removed one from Master Beehive the younger, and from his fellow canine companion.........all bedding both human and animal has been thoroughly boiled, to ensure anihilation of the critters. But my poor kids are now suffering freckles being dissected, routine scrubbing of all suspect black bits and a crazy lady chasing them around the house with a pair of tweezers on a daily basis!

These ticks are sometimes only the size of a poppyseed, which makes for really hard observation. Apparently although they originate on deer, it is actually the mice that bring them into the garden. Killing the mice just means that new mice come in with fresh ticks, so we are contemplating trying ticktubes - which works like Frontline for Pets. The mice take the stuff to their nests and end up coated in it, or consuming it, the tick then bites the mouse but it makes it infertile, hence the tick population in our garden dies out..........great in theory.....the alternative is to spray the lawn with chemicals which aren't great for pets or children!

And we didn't want to live in Oz because of snakes and spiders.....................fools!

An apple for the teacher.

It's that time of year, school is nearly out and us mothers of our eager pupils are frantically searching for that perfect gift that gives the appropriate message of appreciation. Is it a mug? Chocolate? A set of nice pens?

After years of teaching, I am all the more conscious of the delightful tat available for our kids to happily give to their teachers to add to the collection of 25 identical ones they received that year.

So Thursday morning, I was a woman on a mission - find the ideal gift that both reflects my child (and us) AND the teacher AND doesn't end up meaning I will have to remortgage my house ! I want to get something that is both a conscious gift for them AND the earth - small task methinks! Christmas, they received Oxfam gifts of meals for school children or school books for kids in developing countries etc.

Chocolate - is, although nice in small quantities, dull and uninspiring. They probably get inundated with it - so that's a no!

Wine - albeit on a slightly higher plane than chocolate, and they might not drink - see the above!

An ornament - Don't even GO there, sorry but cute mice dressed as teachers are really not nice!!!

A mug - you have GOT to be kidding me. My mother collected all hers over the years - it has been a Looooooooong process encouraging her that she really only needs half a dozen for cups of tea for two!! and the slogans..........they beggar belief.

A book? Very personal, could try a book token - maybe a little unadventurous? Not to mention the fact that the posh mummy brigade will be looking under their fake eyelashes at anyone who brings a present that isn't at least 6'5" in girth in a Tiffanys box! Inspiration dahling, a token is sooooo last year!

A plant for the garden - urgh, what if they live in an apartment?

A voucher for a restaurant ? Hmm, again a little too personal.

A handmade gift by the children? Well if they like LOTS of paper and sellotape or a mud and worm sculpture..........nah, probably not the best idea!

The other issue is that on top of the teacher, there is also the assistant teacher and, well, her girth needs to be of similar size !!! Can't be seen to be favouring via size of tissue wrapped article! Hell, added to that is cost - after three children, six teachers..........it's gonna get expensive, hmm, but I think I am supposed to gloss over this point and reattach my left eyelash!

So back to the drawing board............

The other part of my post today is more on a serious note, forgive me for my anger, but I am so pissed with this speciman that works with kids and calls himself a teacher!

This afternoon I went to enquire about some karate lessons for the children. The boys currently attend one at their YMCA, which is fun, but very full and crowded and I feel T, in particular, would move on at a faster pace if he had a smaller class. So I went to one place, somewhat of a brag-fest was my first impression as the place was littered with trophies, my second was a feeling of intimidation, but I put that down to me being picky and stupid.

The guy I spoke with seemed lovely having been passed to him by another guy who, happily told me that they would take my other "son" pointing at Little Miss Beehive, as soon as she was potty trained.
"She is toilet trained" I informed him calmly "and I am not here for her"
"Oh, how old is she? 3?"
"I TWO!" - you see, she can answer herself if you would have the decency to actually address her!

This nice guy asked me to come back at four with the boys and they would see what they were capable of.
So at four, the children and I are taken into the "interview" room, with the inital guy. I know, alarm bells were already sounding due to the fact I thought it was going to be of the same genre as a timeshare sale! Looking around for the nearest exit, we all went in.

After at least 10 minutes of questions - ("which was better for the boys, to listen to their parents because they are told to or because they want to. Answer my questions with a yes SIR! Why must I carry wet wipes for feet in my car AT ALL TIMES? Did I know his floor was worth thousands and professionally cleaned every day, why I could eat my dinner off it. Why did I want them to do karate was it a, b, c or d - e: fun, didn't enter into the equation."), Little Miss Beehive, at 4.20pm with no snack, was beginning to tire and get restless........

The bribes then started - "If you are quiet I have a surprise for you and your brothers" (Mein Herr, not me!!)
I. kept on with the wriggling and protesting to get down
"Well young lady, you obviously have decided you don't want a surprise." WTF!!!

After a few more seconds of her not obeying his orders, he gets up, opens the door and says:

"Mom, she is going to have to go."

I cannot believe I am hearing this, she is only 2, she has been as still as can be expected in a boring room with him and all his trophy collection.
I must have looked at him with all the gorm that I can muster as I still cannot believe that on the one hand he is preaching respect, and on the other, ordering me to leave the room !

"Come on boys, this isn't going to work" I said

"She can stay if she is quiet."

Oh, that is big of you........I take it you don't WANT our business then you head-up-your-own- arse TWONK?

"She is TWO, she is not more than a BABY!"

So with all the dignity I could find, I walked out of his shrine, remarking loudly to no-one in particular, but in the middle of his awaiting class, how unbelievably RUDE he was.......

Fortunately not a mile down the road we stumbled across a lovely martial arts class where I met a mum from school. The boys were invited to watch or take part, no one frowned or shouted down at us..........nuff said.

To throw the book

It is often early in the morning as we are getting ready to school that minor kerfuffles break out in the Beehive. A piano practice trying to be done with a toddler adding her countermelody, or a book trying to be read with a toddler deciding that is is "her" book and she needs it now, or hair being dryed with a toddler wanting to play hairdressers. Hmmm.... notice a theme??

We try as much as possible to talk with our children rather than at them about behaviours and one of the favourites is "try to use your words" to avoid feet stomping (of the toddler) or fingers going into the mouth and whining (Master Beehive the younger!).

This morning's outbreak was over the ownership of a book.

From my position in the bathroom, cleaning my teeth, I could hear the escalation -

"my book"
"no, I had it first"
"miiiiiiiiiinnnnneeee!"
"no I. stop, you can have a different one"


Then of course -

"waaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh"

Dropping my implements I realise it is time for intervention (I prefer to give them time to see if they can settle out of court rather than feeling that I am taking a side or making decisions for them)

"What happened?" I asked

"W. pince me" - wailed Little Miss Beehive, pince being the word she uses for any form of misdemeanor that occurs and generally Master Beehive the younger is the offender. It used to work quite well until I realised that she could also trip over and tell me that "W pinced me"!!

"Did you?"

Looking at his feet and mumbling "yes"

"What did you do?"

"I threw a book at her"

"Well that wasn't kind. We don't use our hands and feet and hit, you must use your words."

"I did!" he cried in umbridge

"I told her to duck!"

Remember your Manos!!

The art of children who learn languages from an early age is that they swap the words around and know exactly what they are trying to say to you. The curse of not knowing the language your child is learning yourself is thus:


Yesterday I picked up Little Miss Beehive from school and she presented me with my Mother's Day present:





"Is that for me?" I asked


"Manos" she shrieked


"Sorry, is that for me please?"


"Manos" she repeated


"Thank you?"


"Manos, manos"


"Thank you for my mother's day present. It's very lovely, may I hold it please?"



"No, it's mine!"


She then ran off with the gift of a bookmark with her hand prints on it........................








Eventually, the word dawned on me - she didn't mean manners at all, she meant HANDS - MANOS !

Early morning wake up call

OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is 5.30am and my next door neighbour is MOWING HER LAWN!!!!!!!!

This is the crazy lady who tried to cut up the tree that fell on our house, with a chain saw when the live electric cables were still wrapped around it and then who instructed her handyman to pull down the remainder of the trees.......using his van and a rope who lives in the house that Jack built!!!!!!!

If it were hot in the day, I could understand the need to start early...........but it isn't even LIGHT yet!

A message to those who live in glass houses.

It has been one week today since the disappearance of Little Madeleine McCann in the Algarve. I am sure there has been not one person who hasn't felt sick to the core at the pictures of the beautiful blonde haired girl. Looking at our own children sleeping safely in their beds, we are frightened both for Madeleine AND our own children. It would be condescending of me to say that only parents must feel this through to their bones, but I am sure I am not alone in seeing elements of this child in my own daughter, only months younger than Madeleine.

I must pass comment though on the amount of disgust I have felt over the judgementalism of people, letters in the paper, on internet forums who, all of a sudden, feel it is their place and right to verbalise their abhorrence with the fact that the child, along with her siblings, was left on her own in a hotel room whilst her parents dined elsewhere.

First of all, on whatever scale this sits, there are people out there, who, on a daily basis, take risks, many of which involve children and some of which end disastarously. Take people who jump in a car with their kids and choose to take a phone call whilst driving, people who misjudge the speed of other drivers or their ability to get out of a junction/overtake etc, people who leave the front door open to bring stuff in from the car with their toddler wandering onto the street or engage in a conversation with a friend whilst their toddler wanders off or onto a busy road. People who choose to risk having a drink and getting in a car, people who allow their kids to walk home from somewhere on their own (however old and whatever time of day), parents who allow their kids to go on camping trips away from home, parents who allow their toddlers to walk holding the hand of a parent rather than strapped in a stroller or attached to reins......all of these activities have varying degrees of risk about them and we choose to or not to take them.


However we feel internally about this situation, however we feel we might have done different (but who is to say that this prevents a situation?), whatever different parenting choices we make from each other, now is not the time or the place to start casting aspersions. The real guilty person is the person who took the child.

Put energy into willing Maddy to be found safe and alive and well. When that happens, then.....well, you are free to pass judgement, but until that day, just imagine the living hell that Kate and Gerry McCann, two doctors - (yes, don't tell me that doesnt' cross your mind either - how does this kind of thing happen to people like that. ) are going through on a daily basis.

My heart goes out to that poor family and to baby Madeleine, for that is all she is. Please, please let her be found safe and well.

Knock, Knock

What do you get if you cross Knock Knock jokes with a two year old?


Joke telling - is all about the punchline - or so they tell me. I have been trying for years to get that bit right!! However, if you can't get the punchline just right then take a tip from Little Miss Beehive, just mush the whole thing together!

Copyright to LMB, ae 2: current obssesion; telling knock knock jokes - or rather two knock knock jokes rolled into one!

"Knock, knock?"
"Who's there?"
"Colin the doctor, I sick, boo hoo!"

Still doesn't beat Master Beehive the younger at the same age:

"I spy with my big eye (he's always had something about his eyes being big!!), something beginning with C"

" Car, cupboard, .............etc"

"No..........Elephant!"

"Ok, you win.....your turn again."

" I spy with my big eye, something beginning with P"

"Pig, people, ...............etc"

"No.........Elephant"

You get the picture!!

And HIS wants are not so small!

This morning I caught all the miscreants "sneaking" around with backpacks on their back (their words, not mine!!)
Playing along with this I asked them all where they were going.

"Nowhere, we're just sneaking?"
"Not on a trip then?"
"Maybe Pennsylvania", said the elder of the trio fumbling in his backpack he pulls out his money box.
"Can you help me count my money please? I can count the paper, but not all the coins."

"You have a lot of money, what are you saving up for?" I asked

"Oh, I dunno...........maybe a cell phone or a car."

Celebrate your mother dammit!

It's nearly Mother's Day, that is, here, in the US. Mother's Day in the UK was celebrated in March. Which, because I don't have a UK calendar anymore, I was reminded about three days prior, due to my sister asking if I wanted "in" on the gift she had bought mum ?

" Er? Yes, thanks, that will save me posting"
I lied - actually, it would save me the guilt of forgetting hmmm, thanks sis!

So what will it be this year? Breakfast in bed? A box of chocs? A day at the spa - ya ha, so getting above my station now!

No, my needs are small and so therefore I have created my wishlist. This is my Top ten (in no particular order!)

• The chance to lie in long enough to actually see the little and long hands hit the six together.
• The opportunity to wear the same shirt for a whole day without it being covered in weetabix or snot by 10.30am.
• The opportunity to pee without a peering face around the door asking me "wasat mama?" and pointing somewhere toward my nether regions, when trying hard to perform daily ablutions and following from that, the opportunity to help with homework for the elder Master Beehive without my knickers around my ankles because yet again, this little hiding place has been discovered and choosen as the right place to find mummy sitting still long enough to answer the questions!
• A hot cup of tea rather than a cold one that I find three days later where I left it, wearing a shiny layer of scum and dust, after promising myself that I would drink it just as soon as I had picked up the laundry and preceded to get completely distracted.
• The ability to cook dinner whilst falling over a dog, toys, shoes and skidding in pee that a toilet training Little Miss Beehive is frantically trying to show me, midst distractedly stuffing the innards of a chicken with the telephone, on which I was originally trying to make an appointment for my annual exam without having to mention and then explain the word "smear test" in front of inquisitively listening 4 and 7 year olds!
• The ability to plan for in advance, prepare leisurely and serve with a flourish, perfect meals without the hint of rush, last minute-ness or stress, and to be able to cook the perfect meals that get polished off by all my children including the vege-a-phobe, rather than feeling an incessant guilt for the amount of waste we have after each meal and all the hungry kids there are in the world - wahay, there goes another flying pig!
• Mail - yes, that's right, mail - FOR ME! Not party invitations for my kids' social lives, not junk asking if : I want my roof painted purple, want to buy the latest innovative push up, super-velocity humunga-bra, or need liposuction for fuck's sake, I don't need reminding! Just a little letter will do.
• The opportunity to be allowed to dream about snogging Brad Pitt or Orlando Bloom in a hot and steamy clinch without my darling other half standing over my shoulder sniggering over my current purchase of OK magazine!
• The ability to hold a coherent adult conversation for longer than 0.6 of a second with anyone in the world other than an answerphone (time differences or workaholic other half!!) or crap drivers on the road - (okay so the latter is more a one sided haranging on my behalf!)
• Children who, for the whole day, don't whine, ask 1,000000 questions that I can't answer or am too mentally exhausted to answer (or at least keep it to less than 100 questions per day!) and don't argue with each other........just for one day........pretty please???

So, that's it really - simple. Now, where did my fairy godmother go................. come back!

From mice and tree rings

They're back...the mice that is!

Unfortunately this morning, I had to tell Master B, the younger, that the mice had very cleverly opened my pantry, got up on the stool, taken down the remaining easter eggs, removed the stool, closed the pantry door again and taken them upstairs to eat in his wardrobe sometime yesterday afternoon or evening when I wasn't around. It was most unfortunate as one of these eggs was so nibbled that it needed to be discarded because of the germs!! He was, naturally sad about this, but understood that if he saw the mouse again, he needed to ask the mouse to ask me about chocolate and then it could be shared.



The catalog is done, 'tis over, fini, terminado!! So as a treat today, nails have been polished.

Whilst I was paying, my pedicurist noticed the picture of the mini Beehives in my purse.........

"They you children? No? They no you children, you no look like mommy, you too........"

The sentence was left unfinished as she took my upper arm and pinched it, then circled her hands around it............OMG, is this like tree rings? Perhaps the more rings I have the older I am? Anyway, at least she didn't catch me five minutes earlier receiving a complimentary massage from her colleague and dribbling into my lap whilst I fell asleep - hand me that bus pass!

Salivatory yours!
The Beehive

A conversation with Pam

- Hey Pam, it's R. Can you send me the info I need for the auction please? I'll give you my e-mail
It's R - A

-Hi, okay, so it's A....

- No, R - A

- Okay, A

- It's too complicated to give it over the phone.

- Yes. A.

- No, R for Robot, before A

- A - R

- No!! otherway R - A

- Sorry, I have a really bad head cold and everything is reverberating at the moment.

- Oh god, I know what you mean!! Horrid are you at home?

- Yes. So, A- R

- No, let me give you the address

- Oh, you are giving me your e-mail address, I thought I was giving you the website address

- Okay. You send me the website then, so it's R-A

and so it continues!!!!


The auction has totally wiped me out, can't you tell!