So, the week began with a visit from my friend who is from Iran and studying over here for a few years. We took her to an Indian restaurant. The waiter asked if she was Indian. I am guessing, from her reaction, that for an Iranian that is not a compliment.

The boys then thought it something of a challenge to encourage her to drink shots with them. Hmm, can always rely on them to not let me down when I’m trying to make a good impression.

We also had a “men’s social/bloke’s night” at our house. I do think to be male and attend church you need to be man enough to cope with some pretty naff names. They had a croquet tournament. For the uninitiated, this might seem like a nice polite game. It is not. I promised myself I would never have to play it again when I was dating my husband and we played with his family, who all thought it hilarious to send my ball spinning off into a garden several houses away while they all had a nice social time and finished together. It is a nasty, competitive mean game. My family are all very good at it. Enough said.

The winner of this particular event, which we host every year, gets a trophy to sit on their mantelpiece for the year. You might think this would be a small cup or a replica of croquet mallets, but no. It is a very large and ugly china hand which was originally used as a mould for rubber gloves. Husband found it in a junk shop when in New York. I am not sure if the men actually try to win it or not. I suspect that they cannot help being competitive. You will be surprised at how often the wife of the winner sidles up to me afterwards in church and confesses that they really do not have room for it in their house, would I mind looking after it for the rest of the year.

My husband then hides it. Otherwise a nasty accident might befall it when I am dusting. (Actually, I rarely dust, but I might make an exception in this case.)

I bought a hat for nephew’s wedding. I know you will be pleased, knowing just how much I hate shopping. Fifteen minutes, half price, John Lewis. AND it came with a box. A triumph. It is slightly big. If it slips down I will have to peer at bride and groom from under the rim. But was too good a bargain to miss.

Then shopped for boy clothes with boys. This was painful. I suggested to boy with large toe protruding from canvas shoe that perhaps shoes would be a good item for list.
We went to the same shop he went to last time and tried on exactly the same pair of shoes in exactly the same size. He informed me they were fine, just a little tight over one toe, but as they were the same shoe/size as last time, this was not a problem. I was almost fooled.
Then I realised that the toe it was ‘a bit tight over’ was the same toe that protruded from the old shoes.
Suggested a bigger size might be a good idea. Was told this would not work as other foot was a lot smaller.
I felt wearing one new shoe (in bigger size) and one old shoe (on small foot) was ideal solution. Son told me I was “hilarious” (in the kind of voice that told me I was far from funny in a good way.)
We bought the bigger shoes. (I was paying.)

Journey home uneventful. Boys sat in back and debated intensely all the way home. Sentences such as, “what if a man kills a dog and then just keeps killing dogs for fun” and, “well no, I think all animals are equal so perhaps murder is not so wrong. I could probably eat a human,” floated to the front. I was going to ask what they wanted for dinner. Decided not to.

Take care,
Anne

PS, We collected son’s duvet from Morrison’s washing service (the one with a hole in, remember?) All was good – we were not charged for any breakage due to feathers and he can still use the duvet. As a pillow perhaps.

I can’t remember if you have the same holidays as us? Anyway, last Monday was a Bank Holiday in the UK. Mimi (amazingly) managed to sell her car. Think she was a bit sad to see it go. She rather liked having a big pile if cash though! She then, rather worryingly, asked, “Will banks be open today?” I told her there was a clue in the name! Also a bit surprising as she works in a bank. Clearly that Law degree was worth every penny.

Also, Molly had her kittens. Somewhat of a surprise, as I was just thinking about moving them inside ready for my guessed due date of end of May. I found her on a high shelf in the workshop with two almost dead kittens (which didn’t make it) and one feeding.

Milly has not yet produced but seems uncomfortable. She’s a bit smaller than Molly so am guessing a few days later. I moved them all into the garage. Molly is a pretty useless mother. She is fed up with the kitten and just wants to curl up on her own somewhere. Milly is very uncomfortable and just wants to hug Molly all the time, squashing the kitten in the process. She also keeps trying to steal the kitten – perhaps she thinks if she can steal that one she needn’t go through the whole birth thing herself. I tried putting Milly somewhere different but Molly got very upset so decided having them together was the lesser evil. Think these two missed the ante natal classes and the ‘instinct’ bit obviously missed a generation. Will be a miracle if that kitten survives.

It does bring back memories of having babies, not that I remember very much. I think we are designed to forget most details so that we have more than one baby and don’t warn our daughters never to have children. I can remember when I had my second one commenting, “Oh, I remember this pain now.” Can’t remember much else. Am pretty sure though that I remained calm and glamorous throughout.

I do recall David, busy husband, not having time to read any of the million books that I gave him in preparation. Then, when I was in labour he said he would start reading one. He chose a 1950s book and read out, “Only the ignorant woman feels pain during childbirth.” I think I politely asked him to stop reading, it wasn’t helping.

Take care,
Anne xx

PS Milly had her kittens – three survived. She seems a much better mother than Molly who still regularly abandons her kitten for something more interesting. Amazingly it is still alive, though what being regularly sat on or ignored does for your self esteem remains to be seen. Perhaps it is ugly, some babies are. Do you remember Mum telling us the story of when Mark was born and Granny said, “Never mind, you can keep him covered in a shawl!”?

Having kittens is MUCH more traumatic than hatching ducklings. If a duckling gets stuck you can help and most of the time it is successful and if it’s not, well it is sad but there is no risk to the mother.
Have definitely given up on the idea of breeding puppies.
Am not sure that I want grandchildren any more either. All very stressful.

Letter to a Sister 2

     Okay, so James suggested I join some facebook groups to advertise some of my articles. Good idea. Joined a German Shepherd Dog (GSD) group and then got lots of hits on my dog training article. Still good. Decided to join some more groups. Some are ‘closed groups’, so you cannot see any of the stuff on their timeline until you are accepted as a member. No problem, I thought, and joined a few. Ah. GSD also stands for ‘gender sexual deviation’. Saw some very unexpected photos. Thought they probably didn’t want to learn about dog training…….

     Not sure if Milly and Molly are pregnant or just enjoying their new food. At the end of May either we will have kittens or they will be on a very strict diet.

     Silver Call duck is nesting. The rats kept getting her eggs so she is now in a huge plastic crate with sheer sides. Male Call duck is sitting next to it in the hope she will emerge. (She only comes out at night to eat and swim – sensible duck!)

     Friday was the Lunch Club. The leader was away, so she had asked me to go round as people were drinking  their coffee, show them the menu and ask what they wanted to eat. Easy, you might think. The trouble is, I am usually tucked away in the kitchen, so I don’t usually see any of them and I don’t know their names. So, when I took their order, I wrote it next to their names and added a short description in the margin (wearing peach cardigan, dressed in red, that sort of thing.)

     All was going fine until some helpful person turned on the heating and they all took off their cardigans and jackets. There is something indistinguishable about a group of ladies with short grey hair all wearing home knitted jumpers. They looked identical. I kept asking people for the second time what they wanted to eat. They were confused, I was confused, the list was a mess. If I am asked to do it again (which I doubt) I will ask if I can put a small ink spot on their cheek when I have taken their order so I can keep track. Should go down well.

Hope all is well with you. Take care, Ax

Ugh, yesterday was a horrible evening.

In the afternoon was Baking Club (a few teenaged girls come round, we bake something nice and have a short Bible study.) Anyhow, yesterday was very hard work. I was feeling hormonal (grumpy) and we ran out of time, so the Bible bit was really rushed and not very interesting. We are trying to make cupcakes for a fundraiser. The idea is that we will invite all our friends and family round for an afternoon in June, give them a cupcake and a cup of tea and collect donations to help stop child trafficking. We started making them yesterday – each girl made thirteen, twelve to go in the freezer and one to take home. But it took ages. In the end, they made the cakes and the icing and I said I would put the icing on later, when the cakes were cool.

They all made different flavours. Suzie made chocolate ones, with chocolate icing made using Nesquik. I iced them (they looked good) and put them in the freezer. James then wandered into kitchen, saw the remains (all over kitchen) and asked if I had bought new Nesquik because the stuff in the larder was out of date. I checked. It was. Bother.

Then had one of those struggles with conscience – checked ingredients and it was just sugar and flavourings, no milk powder, so it would be okay. Wouldn’t it? But what if it wasn’t and I made everyone sick? What if I killed someone’s granny? Decided was not worth the risk. Texted Suzie’s mum and told her to not let Suzie eat the icing, then scraped all the icing off all the other cakes. After ages, decided it wasn’t coming off very thoroughly, so I would eat denuded cakes and bake fresh ones tomorrow and never mention it to Suzie.

Took naked cakes to freezer in garage. Freezer completely full because one in kitchen has died. Then David arrived to ask if dinner was ready. Told him I was having a crisis. He offered to make space in freezer while I cleared up. I believe it is now all in alphabetical order. Super.

Jim started to cook dinner (macaroni cheese with bacon and leeks and chicken pieces – I  killed two of the cockerels last week.) I continued to ice the other girl’s cakes. Then Becky arrived home. Went to do her washing and informed me that dog had pooped all over utility room floor. Was not very grateful to her for telling me. She left and hid in room for a bit.

Finally, cleared up poo, cleaned up very messy kitchen, finished making dinner and fed all the animals.

Had big glass of wine.

Hope your evening was better than mine.

x