OK, first you have to pretend it is still Tuesday.

And then you have to imagine there is sunshine. And no rain. And that the wind, when it whips through, isn't icy.

It being February halfterm meant we had to meet up with Family Moog in crappy weather and force our children on a route march of some senic venue. So after some texting we settled on Hengistbury Head on Tuesday. Lunch timeish. Mrs Moog was going to make pancakes.

'Triffic! I'll get Pr. C-W to make her chicken and sweetcorn soup.' I said.

With dread we followed BBC 5 Day weather forecast over the weekend. However stiff upper lip, best foot forward and all that and with a bazgillion changes of clothes in the boot we set off in CK's car for an adventure. CK's car was a necessity as once three pair of wellies are stashed in Maria's boot there is room for nothing else, let alone coats, towels and a basket of food such as may sustain weary travellers.

Despite a slight detour (bloody Kate, CK's satnav!) we got to Hengistbury to discover there are TWO car parks! Which one? Never mind I shall phone Missus Moog and clarify. Oh wait! What is this? My phone has NO power?? Triffic!

However Missus Moog did NOT know about the second car park and as I went back to check it out I passed the Moogsmobile, executing a quick u-turn I ended up parking CK's boring wagon next to the Moogsmobile and right in front of the grass bank where destructoBoy, Princess Curly-Wurly and my assistant were standing shivering in the rain, my beacon of blog-readiness to the world.

Fortunately by the time we actually got to the beach the weather was slightly more friendly with just low cloud, light drizzzle and delicate breeze and so the ball was flung for my assistant who ran her little terrier heart out. (Sometimes she even picked the ball up!) And the smalls ran, clambered, pitched and screeched. Much fun was had by all. Back to the cars for lunch and pancakes - Go Missus Moog, flipper extraordinaire!

Being such a generous soul Missus Moog was kind enough to share with these two scary hoodies lurking in the carpark.

It was only as said pannekoek were being scoffed that one particularly not-intelligent blogger may have said 'Hey! Today is Shrove Tuesday!!

Wanna see what I got from Winchester?

As soon as we walked through the doors at the Winchester Guildhall Missus Moog spotted a table of yummy, yarny goodness. She was restrained long enough that we got to look at some other beautiful handmade items on display before we pounced!

The nice wee lady with the teeny weeny baby was a little taken aback as the Southern Division of A.R.S.E. invaded but seemed quite happy once we paid for all the lovely skeins of softy hand-dyed merino, alpaca and sock yarn we chose.

I also bought a box. Look its got a little hole in the side! What do you think that might be for?

*rustle, rustle*

Look what popped up in all those gorgeous coloured paper shreds .


*rustle, rustle*

A Half an Acre sock bunny!

He is only here for a little while before he goes off to his new home but we are loving him while he visits.

A bizarre end to a lovely day.

The Southern division of A.R.S.E. arranged a group meeting on Sunday and it happened (magically ;-) to coincide with the occasion of Handmade in Winchester.

Attending were the Captain of the Eastern Division

And a trusty sub-altern.

What with it being a nice sunny day and all we sat out having lunch, peoplewatching and possibly doing a spot of knitting.

Lunch ..... mmmmmm ....

I took my slightly non-plussed RicRac monster out for the event.

Can you guess which one she is?

And having survived the Handmade event and visited with 23 Beech Hill, Monda and Half an Acre among and then assaulted the new Cath Kidston shop after lunch it was necessary to go and have a cup of tea apparently.

And what is afternoon tea without cake?

Just in case anyone is listening, Lesley refused to share my very gooey, uber-chocolatey one. Not even a little smackerel passed her lips, which was rather fabulous because then there was all the more for me! Yay!!

Then bombing off down the A30 with Maria Juanita Conchita Gonzalez topless all the way. Stopped in briefly to see my god-daughter and admire the canula strapped to her big sister's arm (! very unexpected by everyone that was) before pitching up home in time to have destructoBoy direct me up the drive from his vantage point sticking up through the roof of Maria Juanita Conchita Gonzalez.

After an evening spent stroking the divinely soft cashmere skein purchase and ooohing and aaahing a little bit over everything else I went off to brush my teeth before climbing in to bed. I came over all a quiver when right in the middle of the bathroom floor was this!

I would blame my assistant but she wasn't the one who left the front door open!

I went to London on Friday.

and do you know what Innernets? It was a very big and busy place!

Not so big and busy that I was able to hide from those crazy real imaginary people who have been haunting my blog for some time now.

Having collected Missus Moog from the ABBA train station, we (Missus Moog, Wonderwoman and myself) set off for Islington - along with two thirds of the population of the UK. On arrival we were a little taken aback as the queue to get into the C.L. fair stretched down around the building and snaked its way along the road into the next block!!!!!! There really wasn't much for a girl to do other than join the wait and take out her knitting to pass the time!

Finally we got in and were descended upon by one highly excited Locket and marginally more cicumspect Gina. Obviously I had to be a little nice to Locket as she had my ticket but once through the door I dropped all pretence and reverted to my normal charmless self.

The (by-now-traditional) blogger meet-up gift exchange thing took place (in order thanks to Locket, Gina and Lesley)

and then I ran off and hid from them all because to be honest (with the exception of Ali, Locket's bossy big sister and occasionally Gina) they were appallingly behaved - swigging wine, making vendors think they had a sale, being rude about other shoppers and getting sworn at! This doesn't even begin to cover the whole 'showing of exceedingly large pieces of cloth' thing. Or the 'quiche filled with cement' thing.

The afternoon was rounded off with a trip to Loop. I think the bumping of their cases over the London pavements had made both Locket and Missus Moog slightly crazed, I'm not sure either is fit to be out publicly in shops. There was a suggestion from the lovely man at Loop that we may like to offer compensation for the whole situation. I would just like to offer my apologies now and ask that he hold off on lawyers for as bit until I can speak with those two ;-)

Thankfully Wonderwoman (not!) went home quite happy, clutching a bag full of gorgeous Manos del Uruguay. I had to pry it from her hands to get her coat off her when we got on the train.

Then to finish off my trip you won't believe WHO came off the train behind me and got into the car parked next to mine!! Yes, that instigator of A.R.S.E. - Mrs Ibsongay. I watched carefully in my rearview mirror all the way up the hill!

Need to try and catch Seb Coe....

Having read through the previous comments and discussing things in great detail with myself I have come to the conclusion that the very best thing for the 2012 Olympics would be if A.R.S.E. took over the management of the whole occasion.

I figure we could have a collaborative event between the Sth Eastern and Nth Eastern divisions. They chat so much every day anyway they may as well use their time constructively, and so I am putting them in charge of the Opening ceremony.

Not that I am a stirrer or anything (but as the youngest of a quite few I may have some little practice) so Vicious Chicken, Monkee Maker and The N.B.M. will be given responsibility for the Closing event. I figure a little bit of healthy competition is good for an organisation so we will have an East v. West vibe going on.

With her background, technical knowledge and current educational pathway I shall require Gina Ferrari to be responsible for uniforms, both those of the athletes and also what the medal and banner carrying pretty girlies will wear.

Those holding international membership will be requested to take responsibility for their own country's uniforms and colourways HOWEVER these will have to pass the subjective perusal of the A.R.S.E. High Council (that will be me!!!).

All other members of the Society should be aware that other roles will be assigned as the programme is rolled out.

You won't believe what she said. **EDITED **EDITED AGAIN

When I drop Princess C-W (I was informed this morning I am no longer allowed to call her C-Dub) and Babyman off at school I also collect one of my borrowed babies. En route through school this morning we found ourselves in a quite short, very enclosed corridor at school (blurry firedoors!) with the Snotty Teacher.

Isn't it funny when you can read someone's thoughts? I could tell by the look on her face that she was weighing up her chances of just ignoring me but, fair play, she turned to face me and asked if I would like to discuss things. I said I was quite happy with things and I had made myself fairly clear in the letter. She then told me that she thought I had perhaps overreacted a little and I could have discussed it with her. Excuse me?!

I told her that I thought my response had been completely justified and that I had tried to discuss it with her that afternoon. Now you will all like this bit - she said that she had just been trying to have a pleasant time with the children and had just finished a long, hard day at work. Oh really? And who hadn't? I pointed out that as a childminder I, too, had just completed a long day of working with children.

Her next phrase was that she hadn't thought it appropriate to discuss there, my response was 'I would have been perfectly happy if you had said that to me and we could have talked about it later.' She then continued, telling me that they would be focusing on homefront and evacuees - obviously she has no idea that children were evacuated all around the Empire.

Unbelieveably she had the temerity to say she didn't remember her words (perhaps not so unbelieveably). I said I had and they were in my letter and that several other parents had been there and heard them as well.After a few more seconds of back and forth she did admit that she 'may have been abrupt.' Do you know, I couldn't help myself? I agreed with her, saying 'Yes you were abrupt.' Well, bugger it I thought, you are not going to weasel out now. You made the error, you deal with it. ** EDIT: I spoke with a friend who has had run-ins with Snotty Teacher over the years and she reckons S.T. has been read the Riot Act b/c she never apologises (and this friend has had up close and personal, face to face slanging matches with this teacher before). Strike one for the mighty power of A.R.S.E.!!

I dug out a book my oldest friend sent me last year and have read it twice today now. Both times I welled up and the second, when I was trying to read it out loud, I had to keep stopping and recomposing myself. I love this book. If you are looking for something to explain war, Rememberance Day or the concept of solidarity to small children then you would go far to beat this.

**EDIT AGAIN Mr HeadTeacher grabbed me yesterday aftie as I walked into school to ask if Snotty Teacher had spoken with me so obviously he had words with her. During our conversation I let him know that her response had been somewhat half-arsed but that everyone had different opinions.

I'm just not sure about our new Mr Headteacher, he is very smiley and nice and seems quite gung-ho about joining in with school traditions, etc. but I just feel that (metaphorically of course) he is pissing all over everything and marking the territory as his. There is a slightly oleaginous tone to his voice and I'm sure his head is permanently cocked at a very sympathetic angle b/c 'he understands'.

It is true I am a harsh and evil creature but I don't think I gel with him very well. I get the same feeling listening to him that I do when I hear Fi Glover invade the airwaves on Radio4 of a Satuyrday a.m. And I always turn the radio off!

Reader, is it any wonder I married him?

I have just been reading Lesley's comment from the previous post to CK and laughing out loud again. There is some history of acronymical hilarity in our house (P.A.I.N. was one of his) and his mind was whirring madly as he listened.

He suggested that we set up a Fast Action Response Team from the A.R.S.E. membership. It may also meet to discuss any General Analysis Strategies. The presumption is they will come out with Synthetic Holisitic Institutional Techniques, as do most such groups.

We hope the A.R.S.E. (Eastern Division) are listening.

In his line of work he has come across a couple of really triffic acronyms - one was created by a Frenchman to present to a mixed UK/French group - Cost Reduction Action Plan. Now that is seriously subversive - a Frenchman becoming sufficiently Anglicised to deliberately title his plan thus

The other was a product that was being marketed by someone somewhere. It is called a Strategically Launched Underwater Transponder Target. No seriously! You could throw the S.L.U.T.T. into the water!!

thanks

for all your support.

Well I did it this morning and handed over the c.c letters as well so the fur will really start to fly on Monday b/c neither Mr. Headteacher or Snotty Teacher were in today. Curses b/c I had even gone to hand the letter to S.T with my own fair hand.


What I find difficult to reconcile is that this afternoon I attended a memorial service organised by the Royal British Legion. We were few in number at the War Memorial up here on the hill but the Mayor and the Town Council represented the local community. Not only did we have the RBL flags flown and then dropped to half mast but the Last Post was played and a minute's silence held.


I have history on this topic but it really is something I am passionate about and as Leanne wrote today, something that is ringing bells with more & more Australians every year. Over the last five years (or four perhaps) this has been shown on ABC television on Anzac Day. If you have a few minutes watch the trailer. It is based around this book. I have a copy of the dvd and I never watch it without tissues close by.


On a completely different note ...... this happens to be my 150th post and because it lines up so neatly with the theme of my 50th post (ref: history link above) and because I have finally expiated my guilt at the loooooong time it took to send the birthday/100th post parcels (draws breath) I am sending a small something somewhere in the world. Leave a comment and I'll tell you who it is in 24 hours.




BTW - Extra thanks to all the members of A.R.S.E. who offered to come and show the Snotty Teacher exactly how to be rude and special mention to Moogsmum. Eastern Division (A.R.S.E.D)?! I was in tears I was laughing so hard.

Okay. Hold on to your hats, here comes the rant.

Let me start with a short thought about the need for more thanks and love in our lives (est, I think that may become my new life mantra!) but let that need not detract from the obligation I sometimes feel to speak out.


As part of the National Curriculum (don't get me started) our little school is holding a whole week of World War II experiences for the children, including evacuation, dressing up and a street party. Prin. C-ub and Babyman have been bouncing off the walls about it since before Easter and both have their evacuation outfits pressed and ready to go.


The cry went out a few weeks ago for material so that we could create bunting and on Tuesday night we had a real Blitz spirit community sewing bee (*sigh* Those nights down in the Anderson shelters really would have rocked if they had had ABBA!) and have made a cracking start to the 100+ metres of flaggage required.


Figuring it was probably best to keep the smaller end of the school spectrum away from sewing machines, electrickery and pointy pins we had an afternoon session to make baby bunting. Easily acomplished with ribbon, glue and pinking shears. And as happens when in a classroom situation I became (obviously unwittingly) a little bit reactionary.


Okay, so I slipped into ' what would be the easiest way to bait a teacher' mode. I just asked the very simple question 'Will the Commonwealth be represented in this event?' Seems straight forward, huh? A simple 'Oh now that would be an idea!' or 'Well, we could discuss that at the next meeting.' would have been sufficient for me. But the answer I got was ......... actually, no ...... I'll let you read the letter I wrote today.


Suffice to say I mentioned it to CK last night (now don't look at me like that. I left it a whole five minutes after he walked through the door before I began to harrass him. He had even had time to loosen his tie!) and he suggested I leave it until the morning and see if I still felt the same way. Well, I did and consequently spent the afternoon putting this together. I'd be interested to hear what y'all think. Was I over-reacting? Is it worth the potential saga that may ensue? Is it not crazy that our HeadTeacher is actually called Head Teacher?!


F.A.O. Snotty Teacher
cc: Mr. Headteacher, The Governors.

I was quite taken aback yesterday afternoon by your response to the query about recognising The Commonwealth's involvement in the Second World War during the World War II week being held at school in May. To reply 'Well, we are celebrating Victory in Europe Day.' seemed an incredibly short-sighted and insensitive remark. The implication was that the Commonwealth nations (Empire as was) had little, if any, impact or value in such a momentous event as the 1939-45 war in Europe.

The attitude displayed yesterday did not seem open to acknowledging the huge input of men and materials from all points of the Empire, something of which the children of the period would have been very aware. An Empire (Commonwealth), may I point out, very well represented in our school cohort – Africa, Australasia, the Indian sub-continent and the Middle East. Without this commitment I think it quite probable the war would have been a very different event.

You then suggested the older children might possibly hear about this during their study of WW II history but that the younger children would not be bothered with it. Both myself and another parent present made it quite clear that we have six year olds who are not only interested as to who was involved but have been researching it for themselves.

As I understand it you have responsibility for the history aspect of the curriculum and so, I feel, should have greater sensitivity to the context of the areas being covered.

Sincerely,

TrashCan (and probably will come around there and smack you one!)


I have to tell you my initial response was a very steely gaze (a proper Paddington) and the words 'My grandfather was killed at Tobruk.'

You see tomorrow is ANZAC day in Australia and New Zealand. It is our equivalent of Britain's Remembrance Sunday and November 11 but instead of a two minute silence we give a whole day to the act of publicly remembering all those men and women. I'm still impressed I didn't haul back and wop her one!

Okay. Rant over.

Call for recruitment to sub-committee.

** edited**

CK has suggested we probably need a sub-committee to arrange the events and kind gestures of the group. So on his recommendation the executive is calling for people to become philanthropic and inspirational natterers; herein to be referred to as a

P.A.I.N. in the A.R.S.E.

Nominations now open....

Lesley has left a comment which outlines the need for patronage.

"Maybe we should approach the House of Windsor - as all societies need a patron - they could be The Right Royal P.A.I.N in the A.R.S.E.!!!!!"

I vote for approaching Phillip when he gets out of hospital.