A womans work

I have got a day to myself, very rare in our house. Two of the children are at Tynemouth visiting the Sea Life Centre, the other one is at a paint ball party, not my idea of fun, and husband is up the hills with the dogs beating and shooting. Marvellous I think I can do exactly as I want all day with no pressures. I can finish my book, read the newspapers, bake some biscuits, watch an old film on the TV. Its blowing a gale outside all the leaves are flying past the windows and its a day to batten down the hatches, sit by the fire and indulge. Why then can't I seem to do that. I am normally moaning all day that I never get time to do what I want. I regularly have to ferry people here and there, rush about laying fires sorting washing, cooking meals. Is it decadence to sit and indulge or is it laziness. I know its not laziness but I cannot seem to relax and am looking for things to do. In fact I am actively making myself busy instead of sitting with that book.

I suppose when I moan about never having the time to do what I want to do I am really happy to be rushing about for everyone else. So the moral is don't moan, so I am going to stop. Well I say that now, bet when tomorrow comes and I am cooking Sunday dinner for 11, organising everyone off to football, washing and ironing (probably not ironing even I don't do that) I will be mumbling about never having time for myself again. Cannot win by the look of it. I think its just the way women are made we like to look for work, and if its not there we make work.

Its what women do.

Reality Bites

Whilst watching the a "reality"programme last night I was struck by how compulsively entertaining real family life is. I took a step back and thought what a day in the life of my family might look like to an outsider and would it be entertaining or not.

Day started as per normal no one can seem to get out of bed any earlier than the latest possible time needed to get where they need to go. What ensues then is five people trying to use the bathroom, eat breakfast, find clean clothes, pack lunches find PE kits and numerous other tasks to boring to write about them all, at the same time. Its only 8.00 and already everyone is niggling with each other, why is she still in the bathroom? who moved those shoes that I deliberately left in the middle of the floor as a tripping hazard so I wouldn't forget them? why are there no Shreddies? has anyone cleaned my football boots? what!!

Finally the house empties and I set off to deliver some adverts for my magazine pick up some proofs and artwork and call at the shops. On returning home cannot get the car in the drive as my mum has called and is chatting over the fence to the next door neighbour. No problem, say I'll just make a cup of coffee and move my car first so she can back out later. Reverse out and then watch her reverse out after me and like watching some horror unfolding in slow motion watch as she proceeds to reverse into a parked Highways van. Its strange shouting stop and knowing that its inevitable that its going to happen. One consolation is that even though scatty my mother is, she is the slowest driver in the whole of North Yorkshire and the back panel neatly folded in but when I leaned on it, it neatly popped out. There's a couple of marks that were getting her agitated but far less damage than there is on my car as I routinely park in scratchy bushes and cut corners near hedges so there are a myriad of tiny scrapes all over the side. Just makes the car look more used!!

Later in the evening all the family were getting bathed, so we could sit down and watch abit of reality TV. The oldest seemed to be taking forever, I know hes a teenager now, but hes a boy so hes not at the stage of spending forever in the bathroom. Went to check he hadn't drowned and found him bailing the bath out with a bucket into the sink. He explained that he had pushed the plug in so hard that it was now jammed in the hole and that when he had tried to force it out the chain had snapped. It must have taken us half an hour to bail the bath out and then I had to get pliers and unjam the plug. An hour and a half later I had repaired the plug mended the chain and managed to sit down.

That's not really an extraordinary day just a mundane day. Just goes to prove that reality is better than fiction any day of the week in my book.

Restaurant Review

Something to celebrate, new job. Great feeling that I am employable still whoopee!!. However I suppose its one thing looking like a superstar at an interview and something else completely trying to look like an efficient organised superwoman when the employment starts. Well we'll see I've always been good at blagging it. Anyway back to the point something to celebrate so decided to try one of the local, so to speak trendy, bistro type spots in town which had just been relaunched.

Three of us set off and were quietly impressed by the decor, all soft leather, neutral hues and stripped wood. Lots of "beautiful people" hanging around like clones. They all seem to have orange tans, poker straight hair in assorted colours chunky jewellery and metallic bags. Gone are the days when you used to ring someone up to check what they were wearing so that you didn't end up in the same outfit, now everyone turns up in the same general outfit anyway. The town seems to be full of "wags" or wannabe wags. I've always been interested in clothes and shopping. Well probably more than interested if you take a look in my wardrobe but I like to think that I am maybe a little more individual never one to follow the crowd slavishly.

We ordered drinks and were ushered to our table. Being all girls we were well into a good gossip and so weren't too worried about the fact that we eventually had to ask for a menu as we seemed to be completely ignored. If you were coming for a romantic a deux or a quick meal with a colleague and were a little short of time I would have been well fed up, or not literally.

The menu options sounded good and varied, if not a little to long a menu for my liking. I always wonder with these things how a chef in a small kitchen can produce 15 main courses and swear that he has cooked them all freshly. We all chose assorted mains and then waited and waited. Its a good thing that I am a people watcher and can spend many a happy hour analysing people by their clothes mannerisms and general appearance. Its almost a hobby of mine. I must admit that when the meal did finally arrive it was rather good and I find I cannot really criticise my stuffed chicken with mustard mash and my companions seemed equally satisfied with a rib eyed steak and succulent(ooh I hate that word but it is descriptive) duck breast. Didn't go for a dessert but stuck to a good strong caffeine fix and some more people watching.

All in all a good night, not bad but not outstanding restaurant but hey I don't think it ever is the venue unless your a real foodie but the company and the atmosphere. I think tonight I will stay in with the 'pickers' (family term) and a frozen ready meal and family DVD. Who needs trend setters and bottle of bolly. Well sometimes me variety is the spice of life so they say.

Communication

Whilst cooking tea I have been thinking about communication in the modern world as you do. I find now and I am ashamed to admit it that I cannot walk out the house without my mobile phone. If I do go out without it I immediately get in a cold sweat what if the car breaks down and I am marooned miles from anywhere, how would I contact anyone. The first thing I do when I return to the house is run to the phone just in case there has been a life changing emergency that I have been contacted about and because I did not have the phone on me my life will not be changed, or will be changed whichever way you look at it.

Whenever the children leave the house I screech like a fishwife have you got your phone, I dont feel comfortable unless I have immediate contact with them. I feel I must be some sort of a control freak, am I the only one.

The other side of the mobile phone issue is that people can contact you in the most bizarre situations. I had a phone call about publicising the church garden fete in my local magazine whilst I was busy admiring Michaelangelos ceiling in the Sistine chapel. Its quite amazing that there was a signal in there as I struggle to get a signal in half the rooms in our house. My other half also had a similar experience when he was admiring gorillas at very close quarters in Rwanda and the football league secretary telephoned and asked if he was happy with a home fixture against Barnard Castle. Brings you back to life with a bump.

Anyway I am sure that this state of affairs is probably not healthy, however I know that I am now mercilessly locked into the present age and will probably now never be able to leave the house without my mobile, along with my handbag, my lipstick, my comb and assorted scraps of paper purporting to be a shopping list.

One advantage though is I managed to use the phone to sneak a very illegal photo of my favourite bit of the ceiling, just before I was tapped on the shoulder by a large security guard. Woops!!

What women do

Sunday morning, sun shining, walk on the hills with the dog on a slightly frosty misty autumn day. Thats what women do isn't it. Not in my house, in the absence of my better half I have to manage my sons Under 13 football team on its first away match of the season. Of course there will be lots of football supporting dads waiting to take control to explain to me the off side rule, no no they are taking the opportunity to read the Sundays papers in peace. What has actually happened is girl power. I have a crack team of mums and a couple of older brother as stand in coaches and we are away.

One would assume that its simply you just put the 11 players on the pitch and they have to try and get the ball in the net and avoid the opposition doing the same at their end of the pitch. That is definately the aim however the reason that football is the nationally most supported game in our country is due to the fact that a little word comes into play, tactics!!. Defence tactics, supporting tactics, forward tactics, substitute tactics, the list in endless. My tactic was to shout out loudly on the sidelines as many words that constituted a supposed tactic as possible, pass it wide!!, watch the last man!!, dont let it bounce!!, keep it tight!!. Do you know what it worked. We won!! The result was 6 to 2.

Its a strange thing as this was something I was only doing so much under sufferance just to keep my husband and son happy. It was something that I would never have done for myself in a million years, however it was good. I felt a thrill and tension. I felt relief at the end and a camaraderie. I realised then that its good to do something for other people, to try something different and test the boundaries abit. You never know you might enjoy it. Roll on 2 weeks time were taking on the top of the league. Cannot wait

Abroad thoughts from home

The way of the world nowadays seems to be to return from a holiday in the sun spent sitting outside an idyllic stone built ‘rustica’ dreaming of a life changing move. Could it really be so hard to buy that elusive pile of rubble and change it into the mystical dream property where all lifes pressures melt away and days were spent whiling away the hours quoffing local wine while the children played in dapple sunlight. Does the sun always shine and do all members of the extended family never issue a cross word. I feel maybe not but I belong to the growing band of people that has a tiny nugget somewhere in the brain that would love it be so

I am in the dubiously lucky position of living in what would be classed as a desirable part of Englands green and pleasant land, North Yorkshire. Pleasantly rural but not isolated, striking distance of sea and hills. Less than an hour from city life if required and tourist centres. Sounds like a travel brochure In fact hoardes of tourists from USA and Europe do tend to converge in the area that I live. One would wonder why then this need to up sticks and get a better life. Is it only the weather, or distinct lack of what could be called good weather. Maybe I should set my mind into the thought that I am on holiday when at home, I mean surely the fact that I can speak the language and try and concentrate on the good parts of the weather, glasses of red wine or Baileys around roaring log fires would help. I think that we probably do winter spring and autumn rather well but fall down on summer. Our psyche is tuned into dreary cold weather, scutting clouds, damp drizzle, and frosty mornings. For some reason we expect more in summer, balmy long evenings, feeling heat through to your bones and we feel cheated when this doesn’t happen. What we must remember is that we live on a northernly island and celebrate this and not expect what isn’t really possible. We do get good weather but not extended period of it and this is normal.

To get that fix of heat that the human body craves we need to travel to different climes for a few short weeks and that’s probably enough for the average person. After that we should rejoice in the diverse and wonderful weather that is always a talking point on our islands.

Getting started

Woopee I think I have finally managed to create a blog page. Lots of searching and googling but I may be actually published so to speak. This will be my diary to myself and a means of putting my inner thoughts to paper or ether. Next big step is photos, no doubt that will take a little longer but one never can tell.