doodle do

Baby's first "mark making" attempts are very different, the first flowing and quite pleasing to the eye, the second controlled vertical lines. First attempt at the Great British Novel was doodled in biro on Daddy's Desk. The second chapter, fortunately in pencil (not sharpie! which was also lying around) on the kitchen wall at baby height.

His first foray with the felt tip pens was also amusing, as he mistook them for make up. Doing what mummy does, he removed the lid and applied felt pen to his lips...... very fetching shade of green! Confused by my attempts to explain they were for drawing on the paper not applying to the lips, he spent the rest of the "Quiet Session" putting the lids on and off..... It did not take many such sessions to have him scrawling for all he was worth on the tablecloth, clearly a far superior canvass to the provided paper!

So having moved everything breakable out of baby reach, Daddy goes and smashes my favourite and most unusual lily vase! (I'd like to know why all my stuff gets smashed/trashed and not his?) We now have a more minimalist home. The only trouble is we spend half our lives looking for stuff!! Where are the scissors? pens? glue sticks? sharp knives? balls of twine?potato peelers?pegs? antibacterial cleaning fluid? It is like living with a potential suicide! All dangerous and sharp objects hidden from sight!

Now where did I hide my brain?

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness

A lavender harvest and bumper plum crop. Gratitude for the simple tasty, beautiful things that sustain our hearts, souls and bodies.

Lavender's blue dilly dilly

Lavender's blue, dilly dilly,

Lavender's green,

When you are King,

Dilly , Dilly,

I'll be your Queen.

Roses are red,

Lavender's blue,

If you love me,

I'll love you true.

Batty about boats.

Plastic Fantastic

Maybe it is a coincidence and your experience may differ, but every scrap of wrapping and packaging from our IKEA shopping trip was recyclable! I call that bloody impressive!

If only I hadn't checked the internet to see which of my favourite retailers had unblemished ethical records, I would be sleeping easy tonight. As it is I have had a few nasty surprises. It seems that many companies have difficulties guaranteeing ideal environmental and human providence of their products.

Perhaps I should sign up for those evening courses I have been idly perusing and start to make my own furniture, clothing and household goods from recycled or natural materials? This seems to be the only way I can guarantee that they are environmentally friendly, and do not involve exploitation of anyone or any where? If only I had the time and the skill!

diary of an addict

I have no sympathy at all for Addicts. They know, before they start, that what they are doing is harmful, destructive and likely to kill them. They have no excuse. In Victorian times, cocaine, laudnum etc was prescribed , not knowing what the effects and results would be, we have years of medical research behind us. Everyone this century knows what is the consequence of even "just one try". Yet they still try still they get hooked.

I do, however, have every sympathy for reforming addicts. For the recovering addict or alcoholic. Why? Because their lives are difficult, they are battling with their demons all day everyday, and each night that they fall asleep is one more day of life that they have achieved as a real live, living person and not a zombie ruled by their cravings.

My story is far less scary and certainly not illegal, but it is potentially harmful and the long term consequences are just as frightening and real. But by no means am I even attempting to equate my addictions to that of a bone fide drug addict or alcoholic. In comparison , my addictions are quite harmless. But to me the comparison for what I am going through is enough for me to feel , "If this is how it is for me, how much worse, and how much more debilitating is it for them?"

I am grateful that my main addiction is chocolate, rather than cocaine. I have been chocolate free for 5 days now.

It would be so easy to quit the cure, to pop into a store and buy a mars bar, or minstrels, dairy milk..... I'm salivating as I write.

The first 3 days I had migraine like headaches, felt nauseous and irritable, snapped and shouted at loved ones.

So why do I need to quit? Well, during pregnancy I was this close to having gestational diabetes. then 17 months later my waistline is over the accepted inches for diabetes, and I was indulging in several secret munchies daily. Everytime I felt down, felt fat or felt bored, out came the chocolate, or the chocolate biscuits. Sainsbury and Tesco didn't help, by putting Green and Black on offer and Dairy Milk for £2, or buy one get one free! Family bags of Minstrels ditto, Buttons the same.

Imagine how it would be if Drugs were legalised and the supermarkets were doing the same??? Heroine buy one get a free trial bag of amphetamines. OMG. The country would be a hell hole.

It takes more than a week of rehab to come off drugs, and it isn't something you can do yourself at home. And free it is not. So I am jolly lucky.

Back to the chocolate. I am Dairy Intolerant! Milk (cheese, chocolate, ice cream) does hideous things to me, psoriasis, joint pain, migraines, IBS, irritability. So I should never be eating Choccy to start with!!!

And I feel great now!!! I was a bitch, I admit, for the first three days.

My next challenge is Caffeine. I gave it up whilst pregnant, which was easy, as it tasted vile. As soon as I was out of hospital I as like"CAPPUCCINO. PRONTO !" immediately got hooked again and during the first 3 months of sleepless nights , lived on the brew. Since around a year I have been slowly cutting down by adding decaf to the uncut Nicaraguan blend! I'm almost on the pure decaf now 17 months later, but I need to quit coffee totally, as it does hideous things to my digestive system. So why do I drink it? You may well ask. Again comparisons may be drawn.

Graffiti on the streeti

Usually in the market place at the weekend, the only "creative designs" on the pavement are the Friday night regurgitated "Jackson Pollocks in carrots" from the kebab van, or the desperate releases of late night piss artists, quite literally. This weekend however there was pavement chalking. Not quite Art- but fun. Baby had a scribble- against my better judgement, as I feared very much he might think we approved of street scribbling and do it on the kitchen floor at home! We have enough on mopping up his splattering and daubing at meal times.