Archive | March, 2010

Getting a grip

30 Mar

We’ve been having a rough couple of days, me cleaning like a woman possessed and the turtle just being a bit moany, whingy and clingy. And I’m irritable because every time I look around something I have just sorted out is in a big fat mess again.

It took me until about 3pm yesterday to get a grip on myself. That was when the rain cleared and I thought “We should go to the beach”. But we got a bit sidetracked before we even left the house and spent a good hour reading in the turtle’s tent ($10 from Ikea, we couldn’t leave it behind! We really shouldn’t be allowed out). So we never got to the beach, but that hour upstairs, away from all of the things I had to do, was like a tonic. I think I’ll be spending more time in the tent.

So today, there are still loads of things around here that I could/should be doing. But I won’t be. I’m going to pack us a bag and we’re going to go to the park and then maybe the beach. We’re as well to get what fun in while we can, before the visitors come with their “Be careful”s; “It’s too hot”; “It’s too cold”; “It’s too sunny”; “No”; “No”; “NOO!”; “Get down”; “Stop”; “Eat this”; “Say (some kind of randomness)”; “Turtle!”; “Turtle!”; “TURTLE!” ad infinitum. Sometimes I thank God that he’s heedless.

So a carefree morning is almost certainly needed. Maybe that will dissipate the dread that is still building. I live in hope.

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A prayer.

28 Mar

My mother called the other day and said that someone I know has had a baby daughter. Three months, to the day before her due date. Little Mary Kate is 1lb 9oz and fighting for her life. Say a little prayer for Mary Kate.

Dread

26 Mar

I’m feeling a bit anxious this weather. And I don’t know what to do about it. Deep breathing isn’t cutting it. I suspect it might be a matter of gritting my teeth. Once the hubby’s promotion is over, the in-laws gone, we’re back from Ireland and in the car on the way to California I’m sure I’ll be fine. Right now though my brain isn’t working. Waves of anxiousness overwhelm me. It’s awful. Especially as it emerges out of nowhere. Like a bogey man.

It paralyses me. Especially if I’m sitting still. So I’m going to keep moving. Parks, the beach and the library. Can’t be bad, right? Let’s not mention all of the housework there is to be done. That’s a source of more dread. Waaaaaaaaaaahhh!

I’m plotting!

24 Mar

I’m either a terrible or a wonderful daughter. I’ll let you know in two weeks. When I’ll be in Ireland! Surprising my mother. Mwahahahahaha! Da and my brother are in on it. But Mam will (hopefully) be delightfully surprised.

I’m excited and scared at the same time. You see it’s just me and the turtle who’ll be going. On a plane. For 8 hours. Alone. Waaaaaah!

I’m in love…

23 Mar
… with a steam mop*.

It would seem that I am more suggestible than I thought. It all began when we went to see the ILs in South Carolina. One of the channels on the tv in the hotel we stayed at on the way there was dedicated almost entirely to infomercials about a steam mop. Not that I watch infomercials, you understand. The tv was pretty low and the turtle kept pressing the buttons, so I had to watch it. Over and over. And the more I watched it, the more I thought “Oooh, what a good idea! Perhaps I might need one of those?” It turns out, I did.

You see, we’ve had forays into the world of “sweepers” and “wet jets” and I hated them. If I had my way they would never have made their way into the house but the hubby bought them when he was young, free and single. He didn’t realise how similar the pad things were to sanitary towels. Seriously, a sanitary towel on a stick. And the washing solution stuff had a rotten smell. Rotten. And seemed to leave a slimy residue on the floor. Yuck.

So I bought a mop and a bucket. And peace reigned. For a week or so. Then laziness took over, because I could only wash the floor when the turtle was sleeping. He runs around at full speed and would slip and break his neck otherwise. So the floors were neglected, again.

Until now. Now, they have been washed twice in three days. And are incredibly clean and shiny looking. I love them. I could invite strangers over to eat their dinners off them. I won’t, but I could, that’s the important bit.

I’m actually waiting for the time I can wash the floors again. Weird.

The things I like?

  • it cleans using only steam, no chemicals
  • you can wash the pockets in the washing machine
  • the pockets are (made of?) microfibre
  • I can see the dirt (soooo satisfying)
  • surely all of that steam is good for my pores

The things I don’t like?

  • the cord is both too long and too short – so long I’m tripping over it, but too short to do the whole house without having to unplug it
  • you have to wash the pockets separately from other clothes to stop them picking up lint and whatnot – kind of negates the whole “green” element, especially as American washing machines don’t have a “small load” option (or even a temperature option (just hot, warm or cold, as if “hot” was a constant, but that’s a different rant)
  • I feel I should always wear shoes when I’m using it. What if I scald my feet?

Still, it’s a winner.

* All of the opinions are my own. This is not a sponsored post. (Although I am open to most forms of bribery).

“Cooking”

22 Mar

Inspired by My Daddy Cooks, the turtle and I embarked on a culinary adventure today. Any time I think of doing this, and I mean any time, I never have the right ingredients or the necessary organisational skills. Never. And the same was true today. I decided to try cookies, because the turtle is obsessed with the knobs on the cooker, so I try to keep him away from it. And cookies just get thrown in at the end of all the messing “cooking”. Naturally there wasn’t a speck of brown sugar in the house. Not a speck. But I was already committed. And I need to get rid of use up the oats that have been languishing in the back of the cupboard for aaaaages. Who knew oats weren’t the same as porridge? Not me! Then I discover that there’s shag all white sugar. Waaaaaaaaaaah! But there was honey. Hurrah! A worthy substitution.

Let the “cooking” begin!

We didn’t actually do too badly. Some butter was eaten. A fair bit of cinnamon. Raw oats are apparently “nice”. I did panic a little over him eating the dough, what with the raw eggs. But I defy anyone to stop him! He seems to be none the worse for it.

They’re nice cooked too.

Here’s the recipe:

1/2lb of butter/marg

1 cup of firmly packed brown sugar (or a few squirts of honey)

1/2 cup of granulated sugar

1tsp vanilla

1-1/2 cups all purpose flour

1tsp baking soda

1tsp cinnamon

1/2 tsp of salt (optional)

3 cups of oats

1 cup of raisins (we used half raisins, half cranberries – something else we have to use up, although the turtle seems to have a new found love of them)

Heat oven to 350F. Beat the marg and sugars together until creamy. Add eggs and vanilla. Beat well. Add combined flour, baking soda. cinnamon and salt; mix well (surely you could use self raising flour and forgo the baking soda?). Stir in the oats and raisins. Mix well. Drop tablespoonfuls of mixture onto an ungreased cookie sheet and cook for 10-12 minutes, or until golden brown (20 minutes for us).

Freezer paper madness

21 Mar

I am completely and totally addicted. I can’t help myself.

And there’s another one drying as I speak. Not to mention all of the ones rolling around in my head: trains, giraffes, ducks, cars, the list is endless.

But when you see them in action

…who can blame me?

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