It's blanket washing weather - and I have a huge blanket to wash. Darling uncle bought it for little bear, it is sort of mega-emperor size, this vast expanse of fluffy fleece in two layers, bound only at the edges, with a tiger printed on it. I have had it for a while and haven't washed it. I am incredibly slack with all sorts of household stuff, but I do like to wash things.
The monster being too big for the washing machine (and touch and go if I could find a launderette), I thought I would give it a quick rinse off in the bath as it wasn't actually dirty, just dusty and had been wrapped around people for some time, and put it on the line.
I washed without much problem, I rinsed it and it rinsed relatively easily although the blanket and a very small amount of swish room in the water filled the bath, and then I pulled the plug and left it to drain. After an hour I popped back in to drag the drained monster out to put on the line.
It is still waterlogged for about a third of it, and too heavy for me to lift. I think I may have done something interesting but not immediately apparent to my back. And OH has said that he would really like a bath tonight, he could do with a soothing soak. At the moment he would be sharing his soothing soak with acres of fabric tiger, except I don't think there is enough room for both of them in there.
I've hoicked about a tenth out of the bath and over the side, sort of scrunched as all sides of the blanket are longer than the bath, and I am hoping it will dry quite quickly and I can then make the space for OH to have a nice bath. Or at least I hope enough water will have drained from it so I can put the dratted thing on the line!
Wednesday, 5 September 2012
Cat under stress
Not evil cat. Evil cat doesn't seem to suffer from stress. She is quite happy to be surrounded by waves of stress happening to other people as a result of her but she doesn't get stressed herself. Next door's huge tom does get stress, however, and he is suffering badly.
Poor old cat - he is one of the most massive cats I have ever met. He can sprawl on a wall and look really leonine, he is an absolute cuddle fuss monster and apart from some tetchy exchanges about his use of our garden as toilet facilities, he is generally welcome by us, if not evil cat.
At the moment, however, poor Oscar is suffering. His nerves are all over the place and he is pulling out his own fur. As the biggest tom next door, and the other tom still under a year old, he is responsible for guarding the clan. It's behaviour that has been seen with feral and semi feral cats. Oscar is supposed to square up to and chase off marauders. These days most toms are 'done', like Oscar, and Oscar is happy just catching the rays, being very large and bringing home lots of grey, furry twitching things, or the occasional magpie. Until the ginger gentleman turned up. Now Oscar is involved in regular turf wars with the ginger thug, and while Oscar is huge, the ginger gentleman is intact and psychopathic. Oscar is more of a lover than a fighter - or would be if they hadn't been pruned.
The real insult on top of injury was yesterday. Nice Mrs Next Door has a lovely new dog, a pedigree (not sure what sort, but she is so pretty and sweet, and registered) and poor old Oscar is being chased by her. I left the house yesterday and found that the new dog had chased Oscar just after he had had a tasty snack. Not only was Oscar chased out of his own home, but he left piles of semi digested cat biscuits all over our garden and was hiding under the honeysuckle, traumatised. He is plucking his fur like crazy now - but he is still a lovely cat. I hope things settle down for him soon. I would give him asylum, but I think evil cat could be worse.
Poor old cat - he is one of the most massive cats I have ever met. He can sprawl on a wall and look really leonine, he is an absolute cuddle fuss monster and apart from some tetchy exchanges about his use of our garden as toilet facilities, he is generally welcome by us, if not evil cat.
At the moment, however, poor Oscar is suffering. His nerves are all over the place and he is pulling out his own fur. As the biggest tom next door, and the other tom still under a year old, he is responsible for guarding the clan. It's behaviour that has been seen with feral and semi feral cats. Oscar is supposed to square up to and chase off marauders. These days most toms are 'done', like Oscar, and Oscar is happy just catching the rays, being very large and bringing home lots of grey, furry twitching things, or the occasional magpie. Until the ginger gentleman turned up. Now Oscar is involved in regular turf wars with the ginger thug, and while Oscar is huge, the ginger gentleman is intact and psychopathic. Oscar is more of a lover than a fighter - or would be if they hadn't been pruned.
The real insult on top of injury was yesterday. Nice Mrs Next Door has a lovely new dog, a pedigree (not sure what sort, but she is so pretty and sweet, and registered) and poor old Oscar is being chased by her. I left the house yesterday and found that the new dog had chased Oscar just after he had had a tasty snack. Not only was Oscar chased out of his own home, but he left piles of semi digested cat biscuits all over our garden and was hiding under the honeysuckle, traumatised. He is plucking his fur like crazy now - but he is still a lovely cat. I hope things settle down for him soon. I would give him asylum, but I think evil cat could be worse.
Tuesday, 4 September 2012
A step towards decorating
The wastebin came today. The one we are going to decorate our house to match. As the house has never been decorated, I am not holding up much hope, but you never know.
It came with a complimentary tissue box holder. I shall be going around town tomorrow, in and out of supermarkets, checking for the fit of tissues to an actually rather nice sort of rosewood colour tissue box holder with antique style maps stuck all over it for a decoupage effect.
It could be worse.
It came with a complimentary tissue box holder. I shall be going around town tomorrow, in and out of supermarkets, checking for the fit of tissues to an actually rather nice sort of rosewood colour tissue box holder with antique style maps stuck all over it for a decoupage effect.
It could be worse.
Thus spake little bear
I am a Christian, though not a very good one. I believe in God, and Christ and I sometimes read the Bible. I am an epic fail at church attendance, and when I do attend I wander off in daydreams during the hymns, but I do my best. So some of the questions little bear asks me these days are really taxing my theological knowledge. I know shedloads about Medieval heresy and the theology of the Early Church and even a few scraps about the evolution of Medieval liturgy (I have a novel in mind for it, it's research). However I am very shaky on current theology, and apart from anything else I want to do the right thing by little bear. When he asked whether there were toilets in heaven, I was a bit thrown, but I said that while I didn't know, I was sure we would have whatever we needed in heaven to make us happy. I thought I ought to try and get him to Sunday School so that I could delegate these questions.
Then little bear told me that God was dead. What!?!? Where did that come from?! Little bear kindly explained. Mummy's mummy was dead and in heaven. Daddy's mummy was dead and in heaven. Daddy's daddy was dead and in heaven. Malevolent cat and psychotic cat were dead and in heaven (really not sure about the theology of this one!). God was in heaven. Therefore God was dead. It's impeccable logic for a five year old.
Darling father took over the explanation of people being alive again in heaven and God not being the same as everyone else, to my relief. However I am thinking more and more that Sunday School is a great place for little bear to spend Sunday mornings.
I should add for those concerned about me forcing a defenseless child into a rigid Sunday School, two of his friends already attend (play at) the local one and he already has the leader eating out of his hand as well as half the congregation. I should also add that at one point OH applied to train as a vicar, which he didn't continue with, and he does have current theological knowledge and he is always spectacularly absent when little bear comes out with these gems. I suspect little bear knows I am the weakest target and takes charming advantage.
Then little bear told me that God was dead. What!?!? Where did that come from?! Little bear kindly explained. Mummy's mummy was dead and in heaven. Daddy's mummy was dead and in heaven. Daddy's daddy was dead and in heaven. Malevolent cat and psychotic cat were dead and in heaven (really not sure about the theology of this one!). God was in heaven. Therefore God was dead. It's impeccable logic for a five year old.
Darling father took over the explanation of people being alive again in heaven and God not being the same as everyone else, to my relief. However I am thinking more and more that Sunday School is a great place for little bear to spend Sunday mornings.
I should add for those concerned about me forcing a defenseless child into a rigid Sunday School, two of his friends already attend (play at) the local one and he already has the leader eating out of his hand as well as half the congregation. I should also add that at one point OH applied to train as a vicar, which he didn't continue with, and he does have current theological knowledge and he is always spectacularly absent when little bear comes out with these gems. I suspect little bear knows I am the weakest target and takes charming advantage.
Monday, 3 September 2012
Forty two days
That is how long little bear has been on school holiday - forty two days.Now he goes into Year One. He has proper desks and proper homework and proper lessons. I hope he will be alright. So far he lands on his feet, but of course I worry.
On the other hand, his charm still seems to be working. He went to the chippy for a packet of chips to go with cold chicken. The nice lady thought he was sweet and offered him the choice of one of two lollipops - this one or that one. Little bear dithered, and wondered, and hovered - and the lady gave him both of them. He will soon be dealing with a new teacher. I wonder how the charm will go then.
On the other hand, his charm still seems to be working. He went to the chippy for a packet of chips to go with cold chicken. The nice lady thought he was sweet and offered him the choice of one of two lollipops - this one or that one. Little bear dithered, and wondered, and hovered - and the lady gave him both of them. He will soon be dealing with a new teacher. I wonder how the charm will go then.
Sunday, 2 September 2012
Possibly not a Hangover
Friday night I had a glass of wine. Saturday morning I had a violent headache and an upset stomach - hangover after one (okay, v large) glass of wine.
Today I have a violent headache and an upset stomach. I didn't have any wine last night. It's probably not a hangover. It's probably another food intolerance. Darn.
Can't wait until it is out of my system. Little bear has been in a wildly cuddly mood and I have been a climbing frame. Lots of cuddles, tickles and snuggles. I am now officially hiding on here. But it was lovely, even with a non hangover.
Today I have a violent headache and an upset stomach. I didn't have any wine last night. It's probably not a hangover. It's probably another food intolerance. Darn.
Can't wait until it is out of my system. Little bear has been in a wildly cuddly mood and I have been a climbing frame. Lots of cuddles, tickles and snuggles. I am now officially hiding on here. But it was lovely, even with a non hangover.
Saturday, 1 September 2012
Regrets
Do not go on ebay after a glass of wine. Seriously, do not do it, it does not end well.
I managed to just about avoid buying anything, though it was a close call, and looking at the items saved in my 'watching' folder they were a bit um, well, erm, extreme. Odd. Not the standard items for home decor. I don't even like gothic fairies. Then little bear was up in the night, and this morning I have OH's hangover (I always get his hangovers), the effect of actually drinking a glass of wine myself instead of spirits (never good) and the tail of the cold.
OH has taken little bear to soft play. I am very grateful.
I managed to just about avoid buying anything, though it was a close call, and looking at the items saved in my 'watching' folder they were a bit um, well, erm, extreme. Odd. Not the standard items for home decor. I don't even like gothic fairies. Then little bear was up in the night, and this morning I have OH's hangover (I always get his hangovers), the effect of actually drinking a glass of wine myself instead of spirits (never good) and the tail of the cold.
OH has taken little bear to soft play. I am very grateful.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)