Personal Blogs

Meant to post this yesterday but ran out of time (once it got past midnight it was pointless posting without a word of explanation, as you'll see if you continue reading)...

Anyhooo - I have been very busy transfering all the material from my old blog on my website to the much cleaner, prettier looking, fuller-featured new blog Moonfruit now offers. i finished the re-haul, and posted my first post (the one below) in it this morning.

Any feedback on the site or individual blogs/elements thereof greatly appreciated...

www.lovely2cu.moonfruit.com

And now, at last, the 24hr late blog:

Sun, Sun, Sun, here it comes...

What a garjuss day it’s been. Hope everybody who could got out in the sun, and everybody who couldn’t had such a lovely day they didn’t miss it anyway.

We did get out in the sun (son and self) and took a lovely walk into the town centre to move some money about at the bank so we have our spending money for our hols in a couple of weeks. Made it to a local park where I noticed a bandstand that’s been there since time began (well, my time, anyway) has been stolen! There was just a bandstand size expanse of sandy looking dust where it used to be and the ghosts of a thousand bewildered and dispossessed Sally Army Band musicians wandering aimlessly. TBH I could have imagined the ghosts, and the smell of onions might have just been coming from the cafeteria rather than ‘the other side’ (see ‘A matter of life and death’ starring David Niven if you didn’t get the onion reference there), but there was definitely a distinct lack of bandstand and a lovely little boy running round in the dust determined to make the most of its sandy properties. Toddlers, eh? Ever the optimists... Then comes potty training, eating with utensils, reception class, assemblies, juniors and failed eleven plusses, the horror of secondary, first love, first broken hearts, marriages, divorces and death. Poor little buggers. We drank iced tea in the cafe (Ben and I, not the little kid playing in the dust... I didn’t know him and sadly you can’t talk to other people’s kids these days without people thinking there’s something horrid going on. I’m with Scroobius Pip on that one; ‘some people are just nice’) and Bun had a ben... sorry, I’ll tap that again. Ben had a bun.

It’s my birthday tomorrow (don’t ask!) and I suggested to Ben that he ought to buy me a present and card. He bought me a lovely matching pair of ceramic olive oil and vinegar bottles (he bought me some a few years ago for xmas which I absolutely loved, but which got broken), and a fat separator because I’m always moaning when trying to separate the fat from a chicken-brick chicken in an ordinary pyrex jug. He is a very thoughtful boy and I am very proud of him, even if he does need a prod sometimes to get him thinking. When he was about five he bought me a book from the ‘Secret Present Room’ at the school xmas fair. He spent ages in there really thinking about what I would like, and chose a book ‘cos he knows I love reading. Amazing processing and thoughtfulness for a kid with autism, even if it was a book about John Fasheneau (sp?), and I have no interest in either football or him. Anyway, he said he wants to make me a card on the PC (Ben, not John Fasheneau (sp. Again?). I suspect that will turn out to be a folded piece of paper with a scrawled ‘happy birthday, ugly’ or some-such on the front done at the last minute tomorrow, but better that than something from moonpig... Moonpig – effectively a declaration of ‘I couldn’t be arsed to walk to the shop and choose you something personally, so I’ve added your name to this generic piece of crap from the comfort of my own home’.

While walking into town we saw a taggle of toddlers (I’ve just invented ‘taggle’ as a collective noun for toddlers harnessed together on an, erm, harness for safe herding. Anyhoo, bless their little cotton socks, they were all wearing little baseball caps, to which were stuck cardboard moo-cow faces and horns. I guess they were off to or on their way home from some sort of playgroup ‘show’. Brought back happy memories of going to see my own wee horror’s early endeavours in the arts theatrical... I wrote a short observational piece on a primary school harvest festival years ago... If I can find it, I’ll dig it out and post it sometime.       

Dx