Perhaps the hardest letter I have ever had to write.

23.12.10

Trash Towers.

Dear Paracetemol,

we have been good friends for many years. You have been my place of refuge in times of real stress and crisis. When things have got terribly heated and I have been left shaking you have been my rock

But I feel that something has happened between us in this last week. Was it something I said? Or didn't say? You no longer seem to agree with me as much as you used to. This saddens me greatly and has made the last few days difficult to live through, for the other residents of Trash Towers as much as me.

While I do not wish to lose touch with you completely I think it will be beneficial to us both if contact is reduced for while. Perhaps distance will give perspective and we can start the New Year off on a better footing

With much love and gratitude,

Trash.


P.S. This decision has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that I have met and seemingly clicked with Ibuprofen. Honest.

Roads are open - Hurrah!

Sadly this means that a rotten bastard 'nasty cold' has been able to ascend the heady heights to Trash Towers.

d/Boy and I have spent the past two days with mahoosive fevers (I say mahoosive but haven't used a thermometer since I was a concientious new mother), achey joints, snotty noses and sore heads. CK and Pr C-W have been extremely fabulous slavies and fed us regularly with medicines, liquids and restorative hot broth. This of course means that both of them will go down with it just in time for Christmas Day.

And what use is that may I ask? Who will cook the Christmas meal then?

Having made the trek over here for the holidays Giovanna & Paolo have been marooned down the hill in a lil' village before making a mercy dash to rescue niece stranded at Heathrow by snow, ice and (ahem) managerial incompetence. This turns out to have been a false alarm as she got a standby flight last night and to the best of my knowledge is now 1/3 of her way back to being on the right continent if not in the correct place.

I am guessing between that and the plague brewing at Trash Towers they are beginning to wish they had stayed at home to enjoy the rain and wind there!

Oh roll on 'The Perfect Christmas'!

*Reasons to be cheerful - part three.

I went out today with my children. Just for a walk along the hilltop here. The sun was shining, the dogs were sniffing about, the kids were on their bikes, we bumped into some friends and had a chat.

Doesn't sound much does it?

But given that a week ago I was expecting to perish from peritonitis at any second or at the very least wake to find myself suffering some nasty brain side effect from a simple virus (Seriously.

Happened to a friend of mine. He's better but will never be 100%.) I think it sounds bloody marvellous!

I am not getting all born again-y or hyper-Thanksgiving Thursday but acknowledging that in life

'A bit of grin and bear it, a bit of come and share it

You're welcome, we can spare it - yellow socks

Too short to be haughty, too nutty to be naughty

Going on 40 - no electric shocks

The juice of the carrot, the smile of the parrot

A little drop of claret - anything that rocks

Elvis and Scotty, days when I ain't spotty,

Sitting on the potty - curing smallpox

Reasons to be cheerful part 3'

Ian Dury & the Blockheads.

can take a person a long way.


As they arise I shall be noting down the 'Reasons to be cheerful, Part Three.

What can I say? I was sick!!

Did you notice the picture of glorious loveliness at the end of the last post? Was it not shiny and pretty and sparkly and floaty?

I bought it yesterday while I was waiting to collect my drugs from the chemist.

There isn't much of it and there is a six inch pulled section smack bang in the middle of what there is but... its prettiness just makes me smile.

Then of course I needed ribbon. I wanted something that would complement the material but not disappear, hoping it would act as accent for a flower colour. The nice lady in our very old-fashioned haberdasherey suggested this gauzy sparkly purple one. Pretty, no?! Hmmmm.. it looks kinda blue up there huh? Trust me it really is purple.

Obviously I am completely prescient and bought it b/c I knew ricrac would put up a post yesterday about her beautiful little purses.

Now in all honesty I will never make that purse and it is quite likely nothing will ever happen to that fabric either. But I can add it to my '*sigh* list' and imagine making it.

See! Doctors don't know everything!!!

Oh, yes. They will tell you they are jolly clever and how you have to have twelve A** 'A' levels, umpteen interesting experiences and hobbies outside school life and preferably be the child of a (better if it is two) doctor but the truth will out and I am able to tell you that doctors don't know everything!

I went and saw physician person today. Not only did he make me do the work (where was my contract I would like to know??)but his diagnosis was of a very nasty U.T.I. (acronym b/c I can't whisper on this blog yet), that is currently alternating between tap-dancing on my kidneys and flicking them with a wet towel. And we all know that is bad b/c Peter Hudson lost a testicle doing that in the Hawthorn dressing rooms! {little Aus reference. sorry, my mother made me say it ;-)}

I did say I had hoped he would be able to diagnose 'hilltop malaria' and that we could make our names scientifically. Do you know he had the gall, the outright cheek to ask me what that was!?Had he not just been listening, palpating and dipping into pots? Surely he had heard discussed the shivers, shakes, sweats and burnings that were my last week? Nope. Calm as you like he gave me a prescription for anti-biotics, suggested I would be all better by Thursday and would I close the door behind me on my way out!

So here I lie back in my bed, having done something just a little bit naughty while I was waiting to collect my prescription. Sadly I am upstairs beginning to shiver (god! I wish ibuprofen worked faster)and the naughtiness and my camera are downstairs so perhaps next time I will come with pictures.

Until then let me show you that in Engerland the sky is not always grey but perhaps they should keep their architects at home for longer!

hello..... did you come down this far? becasue I have figured out how to whisper - do you like it? U.T.I. stands for urinary tract infection. I maintain this is only a symptom and that 'the vicious and unpleasant hilltop malaria' is the root cause. We shall see - one day I shall be looked on as a visionary, not a fool.

Are things slipping?

Two very smart looking gentlemen out for an early morning mosey last Summer!

I think today I might be a little better. Or perhaps I hit the drug balance right?

Given that I am not curled up screaming under the duvet and (so much more importantly) have actually done some knitting today I have my fingers crossed. However I have cancelled work for the week because I think I just need to rest for a bit if this revolting and vicious 'hilltop malaria' is really making its way back to whatever sludge pit it oozed out of. (Yes I recognise the grammar is abysmal but in my defence we were never formally taught it at school!)

The other thing slipping that concerns me is homework. Not mine, although undoubtedly there would be lots left from when I was at school as I never finished ANYTHING, but Pr. C-W's. She has to do a river project on any river they choose in the whole wide world (purses mouth in ironic manner). For family reasons she choose the River Murray, Australia. Do you know how many books they have in our little country CofE primary school library with info about this HUGE river system? One lousy map. That is it!

Of course this perfectly reasonable and why would they have more but *phew* it sure is making our life hard. So my problem is.... how much help is too much and becomes me doing it? Because I don't want to be that parent who is cross b/c 'our' work only got a B. On the other hand I want her to learn the methods for gathering, identifying and collating information. For understanding the research and then being able to present in her own way so it is comprehensible for her age group.

This is something no-one ever explained to me and I spent years thinking that I was just supposed to know information b/c obviously getting it from a source would be plagiarism! I accept that she is only nine and therefore this is only Yr.4 but if she can learn these things now at the 'easy' stages it will make life so much more simple in the tricky ones. For both of us!

A reminder that it hasn't always rained!

Shadow Ballet

Tonight as I lie in my freshly made bed, my poor 'hilltop malarial' body racked with shakes and shivers, Princess Curly-Wurly has been entertaining me with shadow ballet on the ceiling. Both she and her shadow are incredibly elegant. As she is the daughter of a woman with all the natural grace of a mountain elephant I am continually amazed by how graceful she has become.


Shadow Ballet involves standing relatively still and dancing, mostly with your arms, in front of a light source. Having the light source at an angle gives for greater display of movement. Perhaps the best way to appreciate this art form is from a semi-prone position on clean bed linen having just had hand cream rubbed into your hands, fingers and arms by the performer. I certainly found it worked very well.

Some examples of skill & cleverness from those graceful hands. I know there is nothing to give these scale but they were weeny, free standing and completely self-supporting. Not an easy thing to achieve with plasticine!

I have been so proud of my girl since Wednesday night when the (by now infamous) 'hilltop malaria' first got up and whacked me about the head and shoulders.

On arrival home from ballet I collopsed on the yellow couch in a big heap with 750 different blankets and layers and coats and scarves and hats arranged about my person for shiver abatement purposes. My brave Princess Curly-Wurly Girlie said to not worry, that she would make dinner tonight. And she did! My baby girl made beans on toast for her and her brother. And ever since she has been looking for ways to help, stroking my head, bringing me drinks, sharing her sweetie-bobs with me and then tonight introducing me to the delights of Shadow Ballet.

For that if not all the other fabulous things she has done for me this week I would like to award to Princess Curly-Wurly a 'you make my day' award.

What a tease!

As I sit here sweating out this nasty 'hilltop malarial poison' that evil genius CK is getting out my birthday present and playing with it!

Can you believe that?

Cheeky beggar!

He claims he just wants to make sure that the battery works, the lens fits and the picture stores to the flashcard.

I think he is just a tease!

My birthday present - just in case y'all wanted to be teased with me.

Picky Tea.

It needed to be done straight away.

Picky tea is a CK invention and has, I think, been different in its execution to the concept but nye, what are you going to do?

Unless I have an active hand in the occasion it is a yellow meal - bread, crisps, sweetcorn, butter, cheese, potatoes, sausage rolls, eggs - you get the picture, right? But on my shift we add peppers, peas, grapes, yogurts, gherkins, apples and whatever I else I can find that will undermine CK's plan to turn his children into starch/carbohydrate addicts.

Once the varied and many constituent parts have been assembled they are laid out on the table on platters or little dishes and you pick out the stuff you would like to eat. For some it means loading your plate up until it threatens to throw itself into a dog's mouth to stop any more being added. For others it is nibbling away for six years on one crisp or the nasty horrible plastic stringy cheese your father has been conned into buying.

This Friday night festivity has become even more fun since Christmas because we gave CK a 'lazy susan'. Who knew what joy could be gained from introducing an element of Russian Roulette to a meal? Taking said 'lazy susan' and *ahem, blushing slightly says* 13 or 14 of these (I mean the ramekins not the puddings - that wouldbe shameful.) gently spin the 'lazy susan' until it stops in front of a small child and they have to eat whatever is in the pot closest to them. Great hilarity ensues as said child is forced to eat such poisons as cherry tomato pieces (pieces!) or peanuts. With much gurning, eye-rolling and sound effects the theatrics must be seen to be believed. Once I am allowed to have my birthday present I will have pics.

I should have been a man.

I really should have been a man.

Just think how easy that would have made the last few days.

I would have taken to my sickbed with out any regrets or worries. I wouldn't have spent the last 24 hours organising and re-arranging for my children to be looked after or even just brought home!

I could have cancelled work without a thought because someone else could pick up the slack, I wouldn't have been letting people down.

And then I would not have felt compelled to use up every shred of energy I possessed in my malarial-ridden body making the downstair of my house look less like an old-fashioned open air tip.

(Something lovely to distract from the above bile. Granma made this for BabyMan.)


Right. I feel better for having said that. Thanks for bearing with me.

Am currently very excited as CK has said my birthday present is on en route to Trash Towers right this very minute. It is the sort of thing that wouldn't really work very well as a surprise, not least because as a scientist he likes to do lots of research and discussion when buying the 'big' items. So for the past three weeks we have had magazines and online searches galore for comparative studies of (wait for it... oh I am so excited I can hardly breath) Digital SLR cameras!!!!!!!

Woohoo!! My birthday present is a new DSLR camera. I haven't used an SLR in eleventy million years and (since having a play with a friend's a few months back) I really miss it. In two weeks exactly I will become the proud possessor of a Canon EOS 400D.

Yes. It is on its way now and no, it isn't coming via the moon. But over the years we have become pretty good at anticip....................ation. What with all the parcels arriving from Australia. If my kids can get that when something arrives before their birthday it goes away until the day then I probably should too. Oh! But how exciting!!

And just so you know how clever Granma is - this is the piece she did for Princess C-W.

And as I am working on my birthday CK is going to take the next day off. He normally tries to have the actual day but this year he has plans which do not include other people's children [Monkee Maker stop it! And Miss Kitty - you too! ;-)].

Once we drop the childer at school we are off to beautiful Bath for a day of picture snapping and possibly some very yummy lunch somewhere nice. I might even have to head into a shop or two just for a little look around! Then head home for the Friday traditions here at Trash Towers - sweetie day and picky tea. But picky tea is a whole other post!

A day I could do without (or the joy of modern medicine).

Not that I wish this to be a whingefest but if you are expecting a pleasant post perhaps you should come back another day. Because I am sick.

No seriously, sick. In the past 24 hours I have contracted some form of hilltop malaria that leaves a girl shaken, aching, freezing and baking. All within the space of 30 minutes. I am sure it must be malaria as no simple virus would have me taking to my bed for a whole day! It must be said that HTW is very pleased to have a reason to lounge in bed snoozing next to me.

Of course the upside to it all is - as I have the 'hilltop malaria bug' the treatment is relatively straightforward and can be administered with very little outlay of energy. (Definitely a bonus.) It involves ginger biscuits, ibuprofen, quantities of water, paracetemol and Y.O.T.'s yummy red grapes. Quinine just doesn't make the grade. Sadly the effects take quite some time to kick in and don't last anywhere long enough but after a morning spent curled up under the duvet napping and freezing at the same time I rallied sufficiently to get clean, have some cereal for lunch and find clean pyjamas.

That is the odd thing about 'hilltop malaria' - my bones are exploding b/c of the rapid change in body temps but I don't have a headache and I still have some sort of appetite! How weird is that? Although I suppose it makes sense to keep the body energised so that some really good shivers and shakes can take place!!

Enough about that vicious yet amazing bug that I seem have contracted.

Guess what has happened with my cocoa swapper? She thinks I am sufficiently fabulous that she has set up a special blog for us to comminucate! No it has nothing to do with us being unable to talk via email - it is all because I am sooooo special. (You got that bit about me having a rare bug, right?!)

This week's question for the cocoa swap is whether your knitting has altered to meet the changing season and I have to say not. Because I am not one of those clever knitters (you met Mr. Snootyknickers) who make beautiful big shawls, jumpers, pullovers or socks. It doesn't seem to matter what the weather is when you are knitting toys! I just keep plugging along using wool, acrylic or cotton as the mood and creature takes me.

I am off now to create something lovely for someone in a port town and to take more of the 'anti-hilltop malarial' medications