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A Birthday Present

Here is what the men in my life gave me for my birthday. It’s definitely not the Ipad2 I was hinting for.

They sent me packing to the shower block while they set up what they bought for me.

– Two little bunches of flowers.
– Ferrero Rocher AND Maltesers.
– A lovely cake and balloons.
– A Tesco best Easter bunny.
– Pile of balloons.

Reality check. I am not into fluffy soft toys, chocolate makes me ill but I can’t help eating it so it keeps me fat. And we are in a touring caravan for a week so surface space is precious.

Let’s get down to basics. I suspect the Easter bunny is for youngest, the Ferrero Rochers are for dad, cake for the kids and I know the balloons are for playing outside, so that leaves me with the maltesers and the flowers.

I have hugged the kids to bits for arranging it all, and I will thoroughly enjoy the extra half inch which is going to settle on my hips this evening!!!!!!!!

Ps. I must improve my hinting skills this year.

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Happy Birthday To Me

Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday to myself,
Happy birthday to me.

I have a problem. I forgot to buy myself a birthday card for the kids to give to me. I now have to find some time to sneak away from the Peg, find a shop and try to bring one back without them seeing it. Then I have to make myself scarce so that they can write out for me.

This is going to be tricky. My husband is card averse. He won’t buy them. His sister would never get one if I didn’t buy it, write it and send it. I usually get my mum to sit with the kids and write out my card.

As we are away in the Peg this week, I need your patience with my uncorrected spelling and grammar, as I am using the wordpress application to post with. Apologies now for any glaring bloopers in the next 7 days.

It’s tax relief day today, and I am older than I want to be, but I am strangely looking forward to what the day is going to bring. I may not have any presents, (and if I get one, believe me, I will blog it) but I will have my boys around me, and I intend to spoil them for the day.

In other news, it is very windy and we are in our tin tent. This kind of weather always makes me breathe a sigh of relief that the walls are not canvas.

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My Home From Home

We have a caravan.  Yes, we are one of those families, who you see hogging the inside or middle land on a motorway, dawdling along at 50, and holding up the traffic.  Five years ago, Mr Scottish and I were of the opinion that the average caravanner was put on this earth to be the scourge of all other motorists on the road.  Mr Scottish would happily shake his fist, and rant that caravans shouldn’t be on the road (ala Jeremy Clarkson and James May style).  Now he is the one that everyone else is shaking their fist at.  It always makes me laugh.

Special needs children meant that they couldn’t cope with crowded airports, long queues, and being away from their own beds etc.  We tried camping in France and it was an instant hit.  Just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, we tried it again via hired caravans in Scotland and yahey, the kids loved it.  The outdoors, being at the bottom of mountains, and just riding their bikes all day, or playing with other outdoorsey type children was what they enjoyed.

We tried a couple of commercial sites, and although Mr Scottish liked the evening pint, and the kids do like a bit of entertainment now and again –  I absoulutely detest those sites.  I agreed to compromise with one week a year where I suffer the holiday camp style entertainment.  The rest of the time I love.

We ended up with a caravan as I couldn’t cope without my hairdryer, or my straighteners (frizzy hair).    The last straw was having no cooking facilities, nowhere to sit, no heating, damp bedding, and no toilet and watching all those nice and comfortable in their vans.  I decided that if everyone in the family was going to enjoy this lark, and we were going to go away every school holidays for now, then it would have to be in comfort.  I was not prepared for how much I would love the kick back in the middle of nowhere type of holiday at home in Scotland, but I do.

Introducing the Peg.   You might just hear quite a bit about her this year.  Who else braves the UK weather in canvas or tin tents?

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Earth Hour 2011 – 26th March 8.30pm – Join Up

Image: federico stevanin / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Earth Hour began in Australia in 2007.    Over 2 million people and around 2000 businesses turned off lights for an hour to make a statement and stand up to climate change.

Within a year, there were more than 50 million people taking part.  Global landmarks were switching off their light, around the world.  Eg, the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco and Rome’s Colosseum.

By 2010, 128 countries joined in the action.

This year, Earth Hour will take place on Saturday 26 March at 8.30pm.    Aberdeen will be switching off the floodlights at the Wallace Monument, the St Nicholas Kirkyard facade, and St Marks Church.  Many children will be hoping to use candles to follow Earth Hour, and do their bit for the planet and climate change.  Many other cities will be following along and joining in with it.

There is a map which shows the public sign up commitment to Earth Hour.  You can also sign up, and show that you are comitted to taking part, and will be added to the statustics.  You can find it at:

We can all sign up to take part, and do our bit to help with climate control.

I’m in, how about you?  My children are really looking forward to putting on the candles and sitting in the glow for an hour to support the cause.  We signed up yesterday.  My children learned about it at school, and have been asking me to do it with them.  As I wrote this post at 10.20am, Shetland Islands were at the top of the table, and Aberdeen is 15th in line.   Where are you in the league?

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And The Band Played – Believe It If You Like !

That was one of my mothers favourite sayings.  Whenever she thought I was not telling the whole truth, out came the stock sentence which I knew meant that she knew I was fibbing.  

That’s how I knew I was in trouble when I was supposed to be at college, and when a pal and I were bunking off to sneak to her house and puff our lungs black, way back when smoking was trendy and all the cool girls puffed away.  We’d been dobbed in by her mother who came home early and found us on our second pack of lung bashers.

Mum – “where have you been today?”
Me – “college.”
Mum – “and the band played believe it if you like.”

I didn’t have to say any more, I knew I was caught.

Fast forward 20 years and I have my own kids.

Me “why were you so late coming out of school.”
Son “it was gym today, and we didn’t get changed until after the bell went.”
Me “and the band played………………..”

Arrrrrgh, I’ve turned into my mother

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My Old Singer Sewing Machine

This is my old singer sewing machine.  It still works and has pride of place in our extension.   The wheel has to be tied up when its not in use so that they kids don’t catch their fingers in it, but it’s eye catching, and I love it.

I put up the picture as @mmeguillotine on twitter is interested in them, and I offered to let her see my one.  I have great memories of the machine when I was younger.   I remember at age 10 or 11, upstairs in my grandmothers house with it, and sewing away on patches of old material, just to use it.

I think it was bought for my great grandmother to mend the fishermens clothes with, and I am a bit sad that I don’t know it’s complete history.    I wish I had paid more attention as a child.   It doesn’t take away from the fact that I have always loved this machine, or the fact that it has always been in my life, in one way or another.

How many of us have vintage machines in our homes??  I’d love to know..

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Who’s Calling?

I felt a rant coming on tonight, and I just had to share it.    I am sure you all really  really want to know all about it.   It’s not often that I get as annoyed with others outside my family (other than education and people who make fun of my kids – but that’s another story)

So, what has got me into a frenzy of absolute rant hood.  Well, I think you might have guessed by the use of the picture of the telephone in this post.  

Yes, the telephone is my first love, and also my first hate.   From an early age, the telephone played an important part in my life.  I remember my grandmothers big, black old fashioned rental phone from BT.   And yes, before someone asks, almost everyone rented their equipment from BT in those days.  I even remember the telephone number we had for it, and that’s not bad, considering it was nearly 40 years ago.

From then, onto teenage pain years, and the main telephone in the hall, which was corded of course.  Everyone else who was anywhere else in the house could overhear your conversations.  Cue early romances and  calls with phone mouthpiece cupped in your hand, as you whispered as quietly as you could to talk.  That’s got nothing on the daily dash from upstairs to get to the one phone in the house downstairs when it rang.  Those were the days.  The days when the phone rang when it was from someone who wanted to speak to someone for any reason that didn’t involve selling you something.

Fast forward, through the mobile phone craze, and the budding cold sales caller.  I can’t remember exactly when I received my first one, but I think I was about 18, and it was from a kitchen company in the local area.    It was quite amusing at first, but quickly became the bane of my telephone life.  With only one phone in the house, and having reached serious dating age, it was a time where no call could go unanswered as there was no answer machine to record calls.    Being upstairs when the phone rang meant a breakneck speed jump down four stairs at a time, just to reach it before it rang off. 

“Good afternoon madame, we are in your area……..”

What bit about stop calling on the last 10 phone calls did they not understand.  It just got worse, and worse, and worse.  I managed to set telephone preference a couple of times, and that did work for a while, but you seen to need to repeat that often enough.  I gave up having name and address in the phone book to try and stop the flow of double glazing, kitchen, bathroom, conservatory, or driveway salespeople.

Oh but it doesn’t stop  there does it??  I’ve had some fun with some of the callers, and turned the tables on them.  There is nothing like asking them if they want to buy something to make them hang up.    Now I know they are only trying to make a living, so I try not to be rude to them, unless they are rude to me first. 

I do have to say though, that the most recent calls about the “government scheme to write off all your debts” annoys me more than all the rest have ever done.  THEY JUST NEVER GIVE UP.   

They call several times a day.  They usually call from International, and they always seem to know more about us than they should.    When I see international on the line, I now just wait for the answer machine to pick up.   It’s usually a morning and tea time call that arrives.  I’ve asked about, ohh, say 100 times for them to stop calling me, and they just keep on a calling.

If anyone has any tips on how to get them to stop calling, I am all ears…….