Frog life

if only I were so efficient….

HER OUTDOORS

My allotmenthood and my motherhood are intertwined. I got my first plot – actually a chance to look after a friend’s for a year or two while she went away on sabbatical – a week before I gave birth to my daughter in July 2010. I was nine months pregnant, hot and tired, but I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to get access to an allotment after being on several waiting lists, near to different places I’d lived in London, for nearly a decade. I’d read that gardening, specifically bending and stretching with a spade or hoe, is supposed to be great for childbirth – perhaps the gentle swaying helps the baby engage. (In the end, I’m not sure it did help as I was in labour for hours, but at the time I loved the idea of it.)

img_1107 When my daughter is in the right mood, she can…

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No, I’m not that old……*cough*….

Looking through Facebook this evening, I noticed this t-shirt for those Star Wars fans desperate to prove that they were cool, before it was cool. 

Now, I can also say that I went to the cinema to watch the first film when it came out, and Grease for that matter ( and ‘One of our dinosaurs is missing’ if we’re going for the ultimate one upmanship), but to be honest it just reminds me that, if I can remember that far back, how I must be getting closer to 50. *Gulp* 😧

Raining.

It seems that, on the school run at least, rain is the enemy. Well, only for the adults though.

Most parents can be found hurrying their children from the car, or along the road, with cries of “hurry up!” and “come on I’m getting soaked here!”.

Children on the other hand, delight in the rain. Turning faces skyward to ‘drink’ the water, taking an impromptu shower or  the favourite, for those with or without wellies, seeking out the deepest puddle!

It’s always amusing to watch the tug of war between parents and children, if only to laugh along with those parents who encourage and join in with the puddle jumping….

Chow down.

Whilst sitting in the pub waiting for the children to come out of school yesterday afternoon, drinking nothing stronger than coffee I can assure you! One of the chefs strolled across the bar, and sat down behind me to have his lunch. Now I probably don’t have the best table manners in the world, but this man took it to another level.

In between cutlery scrapping on his plate, constant belching and sucking gravy off his fork, the sound of his mastication grew steadily louder. Imagine a cow chewing the cud, times it by ten and you’re still not close.

He topped it off by belching and farting rather loudly at the same time, before making his way to the toilet.

Any thought of ordering food was instantly forgotten…….

Who goes there?

Driving along in the pouring rain, the spray is making visibility difficult and it’s as dark as the middle of the night.

Are you the twat coming toward me with no lights on? Or the one coming up in my side mirrors that I see at the last moment, because you can’t seem to find the switch for your headlights?

What’s that you say? You can see perfectly well? But your supposed to be able to see and be seen. That’s the bleeding point. I can’t see you.

Turn your bloody lights on.

Thank you.

Rant over…..

It says what?

Personalised number plates.

Do you own one?

Does it make sense?

I only ask, as lately I seem to see so many that I can’t make head nor tail of.

Is that meant to say Debbie? No, I’m not sure it does. That one says Hard Bastard? OK, I’ll take your word for it mate.

Though one I could read and understand, though couldn’t quite see the point of, was this one;

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Is that aimed at everyone, or someone in particular? And, more importantly, do they know?

Or care……..