Wednesday, February 29, 2012

My life in song and pictures

One of my favourite hymns.

Forgive the boringness of this post ...

But I'm bored.

Preparing my manuscript to upload to Amazon for publishing as a kindle book I discovered that the software doesn't recognise indented tabs and paragraph indents have to be done via the settings tab.
So that's 381 pages that need amending.

Fortunately Husband came to my rescue and taught me about setting Styles, which makes it a little easier but I still have to go right through and designate each paragraph and remove lots of tabs.
A girl needs a lot of tea breaks - and chocolate - to get that done. (Completed so far = 127 pages.)

And I've been thinking: I probably need to publish a print version as well as an eBook. I'm thinking Lulu or again through Amazon. Any thoughts?

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

I'm pixelated

The question in the last post could be irrelevant if I don't get my act sorted soon. 

I've spent the last hours (maybe one but it seems longer) battling with Photoshop. I bought the software last weekend and have no idea how to use it (so I did a pretty good job on the cover, bearing that in mind) and am struggling to put a simple thin grey border (that Amazon says is necessary for pale covers) around my image. The best I've been able to come up with is a pre-designed border of 10 pixels, which I think is a bit thick. But I can't change it. Nor can I work out the size of my image in pixels. 

I'm going to go and ice a cake and sulk now.

What day to publish?

One of the things I was contemplating when walking was publication date. I wanted to generate interest before publication - that's under way - and I don't want to leave it too long or interest will have waned or everyone will be sick of the sight and sound of my book title.

So I should aim for sooner rather than later, which brings me on to my next question: what day of the week is best for publishing a book? 

I felt sure there would be some wise advice on Goggle but I was disappointed so I'll have to work it out for myself. One page did suggest Friday as it's often payday but I can't see that being a factor for a cheap eBook. Plus blog traffic wanes towards and over the weekend indicating that people - my readers at least - spend most time on the internet during the working week.

Monday isn't a good day, partly because it's too early in the week partly because I'm in work and I want to be flagging my novel like mad when it's published.

So that leaves Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. My Tuesdays are pretty busy and I just don't like Wednesday. Don't get me wrong; I like the hours on a Wednesday that tend to be my slopabout times but there's just something about it. Is it the name I don't like? Maybe it originates from the children's rhyme, Wednesday's child is full of woe (incidentally I'm a Wednesday's child).

So that leaves Thursday. This coming Thursday, March 1st, St. David's day, would be a good time ... but I'm not ready yet! Could I be? Is it too soon? Hmm. What do you think?

My life in songs and pictures

I only appreciated the beauty of classics like this much later on in my life. Now this is one of my favourite songs.


Me, myself and her

Just to clarify ...
I am Liz and this is my blog. I'm on Facebook and I've created another Facebook page to promote my upcoming eBook, This Time Next Year

Aliss, the heroine of This Time Next Year, also has a blog and she's on Facebook. Images of the book cover on her pages show her name as author. I did that to make her feel good about herself.

There, that's quite simple. So why am I getting confused? 

How on earth do con men remember who they are?

Talking to myself

I needed to walk and clear my head this morning, and think. Trouble is, when I think my lips move. Which is fine most of the time until I forget I'm doing it or someone pops up unexpectedly from around a corner. Then I have three choices:
I can turn it into a song but with my voice that's a little scary;
I can pretend I'm talking to George, which is acceptable in this country - unless he's 100 metres ahead of me;
I can stop, look embarrassed and rush on.
Actually there's another option: carry on and pretend it's perfectly normal. And I don't know why it's not. It's not as if I'm having a conversation with an imaginary friend. At least, not all the time.

Anyway, I took George on the less muddy main cycle path to see how far we could get (just past Dunvant rugby club if you're interested). It's a route I used to take a lot but haven't done for some time. When I did we regularly saw an old gentleman. Lean and tall with a flat cap and a walking stick, he reminded me of the farmer from Babe. He always used to keep his eyes on the road and not acknowledge anyone, leading me to the conclusion that he was recently widowed. Today he smiled and said good morning and that, I think, confirms my theory and that time is a great healer.

Monday, February 27, 2012

My life in song and pictures

My brain is a bit addled today and I'm struggling to think of songs or films but this song is so much part of my life these days that it seems an appropriate choice. This version only includes some of the choruses; they can go on for ever with a little imagination (and deep breathing).

Our baby's name is ...

GrandSon2 is now officially named Cadel Dylan.

Yes, I know, you've never heard of the name Cadel. I haven't met anyone who has yet. But it's of Welsh origin although the traditional Welsh version is spelled with ll at the end and means battle. It's a name that came to the attention of Daughter and, more specifically, Son-in-law when Australian Cadel Evans won the 2011 Tour de France. Son-in-law, who's a keen cyclist, liked the name.

So there you have it. He's absolutely gorgeous, of course, and loves his food and cwching. Sounds like someone else I know.

Money laundering and Mr Bean

Husband has been doing his regular money laundering stuff, moving our money from one account to another to get more interest. And he does it all in my name.

So he set up a new ISA for me and it required me to go into the bank this afternoon with my passport to prove I am who I say I am - or who he says I am. 

I ran my fingers through my hair before I went and said, 'Oh dear, am I going to look like my passport photo?'
'It's a bad photo,' he said. 'you look like it.'

Thank you, dear.

In the bank the manager left me in an office while he went off to finish some paperwork. I soon got bored and began looking for things to do. I'm not stupid enough to start playing with a bank's computers so I began fiddling with the desk that had all sorts of holes and, as I discovered, moveable bits. It was just after a piece had come off in  my hand that I looked around to see if there were any security cameras. I couldn't find any but I had this image of me turning into Mr Bean and trying to put the desk back together again before the manager came back.

I left hurriedly as soon I could.

It's all about image

You probably noticed that I've changed the cover. The pink cover with the cupcakes, which I loved, just felt too girly. It's mostly going to be read by women but I wanted it to be accessible to men too.

I had to eat a lot of chocolate and cupcakes in its creation but there is nothing I wouldn't do for my art.

A dual personality

It is scarily easy to create an imaginary persona.

Especially for someone like me who has a slight tendency to live in her own world. I could disappear there altogether ...

No, no, pull yourself together, woman. The reason you're doing this is to promote your book. You are not really Aliss. Even though sometimes she bears a remarkable similarity to you, she is a figment of your imagination. She is not real; you are not her.

So, ahum, Alison, the heroine of my ebook (out shortly), now has her own blog and her own Facebook page, as well as an email address. I owe big thanks to Katney for all her help in getting the little tweaks sorted. If only it were as easy to sort out my brain ...

I want to get all the promotion and advertising in place before publishing, just like they do with the films, build up the hype and excitement. I can tell you're dribbling in anticipation already.

Stu mentioned that it sounds autobiographical but I can assure you that it's not. Not in the least. I am much wiser and generally more adept than Aliss. Just because one or two of the incidents that happen to her happened to me first should not be seen as a sign that it's about me. My children will tell you: their mother is always sensible.

Now if I could just work out how to find friends on Facebook for Aliss ...

Sunday, February 26, 2012

This Time Next Year

You remember that brilliant idea I mentioned a few posts ago? Well, it involved my book cover and thoughts about publicising. Events took over and it wasn't until yesterday afternoon that I got down to doing anything about it. Then after I'd started I was plagued by those nasty little doubts. You know the ones. This is rubbish. That's terrible. What a stupid idea. And so on.

So I abandoned what I was doing and watched television instead. But then when I was in bed I resolved to spend this afternoon putting in some real effort and making progress on the book front. And that's what I did.

I came home from church, had lunch and then, even though the sun was shining and a walk on the beach would have been wonderful, I shut myself in the study and set to it. My thinking was that if I didn't make a start it would be, well, put off again for one reason or another.

On the plus side it involved eating chocolate. By necessity you understand, to create my cover picture. 

My first idea was to use a cupcake and I made a load of those during the week (see earlier post) and was obliged to eat a few before I opted for the chocolate. It's tough being a creative artist.

So that was the first step. The next was to set up a blog called This Time Next Year that is apparently written by the heroine of my novel. Please, if you have nothing better to do, pop over and have a read. See what you think.

I'm getting a little confused as Blogger won't let me do some of the things I want to such as have different profile photos for that blog and this but that's okay. I shall probably be confused as it is anyway just being two people.

All I have to do now is actually publish the ebook ...

My life in songs and pictures

Where Harvey's name came from.

Saturday, February 25, 2012

George, get help!

While I was walking George in the woods a tree attempted to stab me with an overhanging branch. I told it off quite severely  saying, 'You stupid tree! You could have pierced my aorta and I could have started spurting blood and I'd have to have sent George to fetch help.'
Which is all just an excuse to show you again one of my favourite cartoons.

My life in song and pictures

There could only be one choice for the song today, the day when Wales take on 'the old enemy' England in Twickers.

Land of my birth, land of my fathers, I love the country that helped shape who I am. (But don't be put off Wales by that!)

Friday, February 24, 2012

My life in music and pictures

My brother-in-law-in-law introduced me to this gypsy punk band a number of years ago. He sent me this song and I loved it so much I instantly ordered their CD. Since then we've been to the live show (in a dive in Nottingham) and I would love to see them again. The live show bursts with energy and life and gave me my short-lived ambition to be a girl who screams and dances while leaping from drum to drum. (Short-lived because realism took over unfortunately.)

Gogol Bordello 

The road to hell ...

is paved with so many of my good intentions it should be renamed Liz Street.

You see, I really meant to have a slimasoup and yogurt for lunch. Even though I was going to Sam's farewell meal at the White Rose I fully intended to call in, have a diet coke and leave promptly. It wasn't my fault they were looking at the menu when I arrived, or that Chris pointed out the £3 special.

Still the tuna melt and chips were very nice  ... and I didn't have cake afterwards.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Today's bad decisions

1) Scratching my ear with the nib of a felt-tip pen.
2) Choosing bright pink toilet Bloo. I thought it would be fun but it just makes me feel sick.

And it's only 11 am.

And why have I got a navy blue king-size duvet cover in the airing cupboard? We've never had a king-size bed and, before you say that I probably bought it thinking it was a double and then couldn't be bothered to change it, let me assure you that I would never buy a totally plain navy blue duvet cover.

My life is one continual surprise to me.

Do you remember that advert: Can you pinch an inch? I can pinch at least 3. I would have to exercise like Madonna if I wanted to be rid of them and, unfetching as I find my flab, putting that much effort in is never going to happen. Which I suppose could count as one of my better decisions. What a shame there are so few of them.

However what I lack in good decision-making skills I make up for in brilliant ideas. (Even though Husband's face sinks when he hears the dreadful words, 'I've had a brilliant idea.') I am simply bubbling over with them at the moment but the time is not right to share - I have to shower and shop - so I'll leave you on tenterhooks. (What are tenterhooks? I shall google ... it comes from the process of stretching woollen cloth on frames called tenters and the hooks were used for securing the cloth. I thought had a copy of Brewer's Phrase and Fable that I could refer to but I only have the 20th century one.)

My life in song and pictures 2

Lent was a pretty boring title for this series so this is longer but says more.
This song from 1963 marked the start of my life-long love of the Beatles.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Lent 1

Over on Facebook Mauigirl asked what were people's best ever films and that inspired my choice of a Lenten theme. One year, maybe last year, I was grateful for something each day of Lent; this year I'm going to pick songs and films that have contributed to my life in some way. They're not necessarily the best and don't always have a particular deep meaning for me; I may just like something I hear on that day. Forty or forty-two, or however many days it is, is quite a lot after all. I will be grateful for each and every one of my choices though because they'll have added to my enjoyment of this wonderful life - which should be a cue or a clue but isn't.

No, my first choice is the film I nominated in response to Mauigirl's question. It was the first film that came into my mind and though it's not a major award-winning epic I remember leaving the cinema after seeing it saying, 'That was the best thing since sliced bread.'

Dead Poets Society (1989), starring Robin Williams

Some time afterwards Husband bought me the video but I've never watched it. I wanted to keep the awe of seeing it for the first time. There are films you can watch again and again but this one was so special I feared it would be less so if I saw it again. Having now watched the trailer I think I'm going to dig it out and enjoy afresh.

April showers

April came into the kitchen at Zac's last evening and said, 'I've just been accused of being a smack'ead!'
'Oh dear.'
'I told 'im,' she said indignantly. 'I was a smack'ead and I enjoyed every day of it but you're an alcoholic. Just cos you can get yours in shops and garages, it don't make no difference.'
Go, April!
She's only a dwt but she can fight her corner. She says her partner picks her up and carries her away from situations sometimes because he can see what's coming in her eyes. I say that must be annoying. 'Oh, it is,' she laughs.

Back to Zac's last night after missing the last two weeks and took Sean's birthday cake with me. Unfortunately he wasn't there.

Like several others, he was suffering from flu - in fact a couple of people who were there initially left before we started the bible study. (Steve, who was leading in Sean's place, was ready to put a guard on the door to stop anyone else going.)

By the way, Gareth and Una also celebrate birthdays this week but as they haven't been able to get to Zac's for ages I didn't include their names on the cake (although I was carrying my instant icing writing pen with me in case). Also by the way, in case you're wondering about the significance of the cake, they're the colours of Sean's home football club, Reading. (And I've just looked at my birthday diary and realised it's not Sean's birthday until next week!!!!)

Anyway it was great to be back for what turned into an interesting session.

We had a newcomer, a friend of one of our regulars, and he declared himself, several times during the study, to be a confirmed agnostic or atheist; he couldn't decide.

We were looking at a passage in Mark's gospel and at one point after Steve had suggested something, our newcomer commented, quite politely, that 'those words are worth less than the shit on my shoes.' One of the things I love about Zac's is that no-one even blinked an eyelid. 

Steve talked about a time when he'd been in hospital with heart problems and a moment had arrived when he really thought he was on the point of death. Even though he and many others had prayed for healing he felt this could be the end. Our newcomer piped up with, 'But you believe in God and you'd prayed so why did you think you'd die?'

I can't speak for Steve - although I suspect his thoughts would be similar - but for me the answer to that is, 'Because I've seen too many people die in spite of prayer.' Which must be the case for everyone. After all if each sick person who was prayed for was healed some people would never die! (Which may or not be a good thing ...)

I absolutely don't believe it's lack of faith on the part of the sick person, for two reasons: there are examples of Jesus healing in the bible that suggest no faith on the part of the sick person; and healing depends on God not us and to say otherwise puts both the onus and the blame on the shoulders of the sick who already have enough to bear.

The answers that came from the floor last night concentrated on the healing that God has done and the way people have experienced it, which was great but if I'd been the visitor I wouldn't have felt my question had been answered. He and Steve chatted a lot after the study so I'm sure Steve was able to respond more fully to the man's questions. Although I don't really think he was at a point when he was truly listening to answers or alternatives to his made-up mind.

He reminded me of Nicky, in prison. I spent some time with him a few weeks ago to help him write up his story. Nicky had gone into prison as 'the man' with an answer for everyone and no time for losers but, in his words, 'God opened a secret door in my heart that I didn't know was there.' 

I related that story last night suggesting that our visitor could read the bible and talk to as many people as he wanted but until God opened that door in his heart he wouldn't want or be able to change. He replied, 'Perhaps I'll keep the door locked.' And he's entirely able to do that. God won't force his way in; he's not like that. It's our decision in the end whether to take what's offered or keep the door locked.

Thank God.

Monday, February 20, 2012

One for the money

I'm supposed to be looking for curtains but I got distracted ...

One for the Money, the film of the the book by Janet Evanovich, is released here on Friday! It's the first one in a series, currently reaching 18 books, about a New Jersey bounty-hunter named Stephanie Plum. I adore the books; they're laugh aloud funny - and I don't find that about many books. I've only just found out that it's been made into a film, something I've been expecting for ages as the books are full of action and slapstick, as well as great characters.

But ... I'm ambivalent about the film. I've just watched the trailer and it looks entertaining but they're all wrong. Stephanie (played by Izzy from Grey's Anatomy) is a bit wrong but Morelli? Ranger? Lula? Grandma Mazur? The parents? So wrong in so many ways.

We'll have to go and see it of course. I just hope we're not disappointed.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

I forgot to say

Thank you.

For all your good wishes and especially prayers. After a very stressful visit to the midwife on Thursday where she was booked in for Sunday (today) to be induced, the previously very distressed mother-to-be was much calmer and happier on Friday. 

I went along with her and Son-in-law for the monitoring and scan on Friday afternoon and at one point during the scan I began to think that GrandDaughter might be right and that Mummy was going to have a puppy not a baby.

That aside all was well and Daughter was relaxed and prepared when the midwife suggested she should go in on Saturday morning to be induced instead (as there wasn't much fluid in the womb). And then when she got in there on Saturday things had begun and labour and delivery was able to proceed with no intervention. And in the end it all happened fairly quickly and naturally. 

So a real answer to prayer. Thank you again.

Not just babies

I've just noticed how many of my recent posts have been baby-centred. Inevitable when it's been the central thing on my mind. But I'm sure I've lots to tell you about like our visit to Paignton Zoo on Saturday. It's where FiancĂ©e works and Younger Son met us there and - in sometimes pouring rain - we wandered around. Unfortunately we weren't the only ones who disliked the rain: lots of the animals were in hiding or, like this wise little creature enjoying the benefit of a sun lamp.
One animal that was being pampered was this 4 day old giraffe. Note how he already is taller than his keeper.
All the lemurs - I think that's what they were anyway - were sheltering while I did my impression of Indiana Jones on the wobbly rope bridge. (Okay, it wasn't that wobbly but I was still impressed with my bravery.)
Back home in the warm GrandDaughter finds a comfy spot to sit and read.

This is a rotten photo but if you look carefully you'll see that this little blackbird has white stripes in its tail. He was a regular visitor to the garden and especially enjoyed the left-over jam tarts. (The only reason they were left over was that Daughter had had several mad baking sprees with the idea that she'd have some cake to offer visitors who came to see the new baby. But because Baby was so late we ate them all - or as much as we could.)

We did lots of other things too, like going to the museum, feeding the ducks, visiting Exeter quay, loads of walks and even more essential visits to tea-shops, and, of course, we celebrated Daughter's birthday with this chocolate cheesecake, which was totally yummy.
And Baby chose a non-rugby international weekend to be born showing an innate sense of timing. (Wales, played 2 won 2. Yay! Grand Slam on maybe?)

In which Husband learns how to use the washing machine

At some point during my stay in Devon I got a phone call from Husband, 'I've put my clothes in the washing machine; what do I do now?'

The problem was that I'd been away so long I couldn't remember - even when he described the front of the machine to me. I'm normally on automatic pilot when setting it and having got used to Daughter's machine over the last weeks I had no idea.

Still he managed to wash his boxers and socks but I've come home to a lorryload of dirty washing. And he hasn't made the bed once while I've been away. 'I straighten it a bit before I get in at night,' he says.

Are all men the same?

Granny cubed

GrandDaughter and her new little brother!

After all the waiting and stress and 'threat' of induction things started of their own accord on Saturday morning and Baby was born, without intervention, at 10.50 last night, and Baby, mum and dad were home by about 3 am. He weighed 7lb 1oz and is, as yet, unnamed. 

GrandDaughter is being very gentle with her brother and is trying to live up to her new t-shirt (a present from baby), which proclaims her to be the Biggest and Best-est Sister.

We've come home now although after nearly two and a half weeks in Devon I'm not quite acclimatised back here yet!

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Saturday evening

Daughter is in labour! 

She started naturally this morning and after stalling a little this afternoon is now back in hospital with regular, frequent and painful contractions so we're just sitting and a'waiting ... and hoping GrandDaughter will sleep well tonight as she's missing mummy already.

I hope that my next post will be the news we've been waiting for ...

P.S. We saw a 4-day-old giraffe at Paignton Zoo this afternoon. It was taller than its keeper. Hope Daughter's new baby is slightly smaller.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Please pray

Daughter saw the midwife today: nothing's happening so she's been booked in for an induction on Sunday. If you're a pray-er please pray that things happen naturally as she's very stressed and anxious.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Flat as a pancake

Good job Daughter didn't go into labour last night: when we got in the car this morning to go to the park the battery was flat. Also a good job I'm an expert at jump starting and also that Son-in-law put me on the car insurance today.

I would not have been amused if labour had started and Son-in-law had woken me up in the middle of the night to come and steer the car while he pushed.

No sign though. I'm beginning to think Baby is settled in for the duration. Maybe he/she's waiting for warmer weather. Could be a long wait.

Thursday, February 09, 2012

Happy birthday, Daughter! (But not birth day)

Last night I'd just gone to bed when I remembered: it was 32 years ago at about that time of night that we had to go to hospital as my waters had broken. Yes, it's Daughter's birthday today!

She had a midwife appointment this morning and all is well, baby and all vital signs are as they should be, baby just not showing any sign of wanting to leave its nice warm and comfy nest. The midwife was very relaxed and suggested the usual things to bring on labour: walking, curry, sex. Daughter was hoping she'd tell her the secret to encouraging baby out but if there were a secret everyone would know by now. Baby will come when it's ready.

Husband came down to join us yesterday. Probably just as well as he fell out of a tree the day before. While holding a chainsaw. 'I couldn't help laughing,' he said, 'as I dangled there, one hand holding on to the tree the other grasping the chainsaw.' Yes, hilarious. 

I'd like to think that he wouldn't do that if I were there with him but he would. 'Phft,' he says, 'I know what I'm doing.'

Which is obviously how he came to fall out of a tree ...

Monday, February 06, 2012

Forget the hot water - where's the coconut?

So Daughter is scrubbing the kitchen floor when Son-in-law phones. He says she shouldn't be working but should be resting so Daughter takes a book to bed with her. (GrandDaughter is napping at this time.) Leaving Granny to look at a half-scrubbed floor.

Ah well, I should have been at circuits tonight so I've made up for that by doing my exercise on my knees.

While on my knees I think about the snow that has fallen in other parts of the country. We only had a slight flurry here but I start wondering what would happen if we got snowed in and Daughter went into labour and the midwife couldn't get here and I had to deliver the baby and that's okay until it comes out and the cord is around its neck. So I know I'd have to clamp the cord and cut it but what would I clamp it with? Daughter suggests a food bag tie and I picture myself in the kitchen panicking and saying, 'Which will keep best without a tie on: coconut or caster sugar?' Or even worse, cutting the cord and fainting at the sight of blood.

This is what happens when an expectant grandmother with an over-active imagination watches 'Call the Midwife.' I think I'd better pray that it doesn't snow.

Sitting and a'rocking

I've been in Devon since last Thursday awaiting the arrival of new GrandBaby. Due last Saturday there's no sign yet, which could be for the best as GrandDaughter insists it's a puppy.

Part of me was hoping it would be born yesterday as it was the 40th anniversary of my mum's death and a birth would have reclaimed the day. But another part of me thought that was a bit bit morbid!

I don't think about my mum even on anniversaries. It was so long ago that she died and I didn't know her very well. Everyone else knew her much better and tells me 'your mum would have ...' this or that. But that's fine. I have my own very precious family and I was too busy thinking about the future to spend any time in the past.

And yesterday morning Daughter took me to the church she's been going to recently. An evangelical church in the village it was quite similar to Linden only much smaller. It's the first time I've been to a church on a Sunday that isn't Linden - no, wait, I visited the church in Richmond that Elder Son was married in but that was church of England with the traditional service - so, naturally I couldn't help but compare. It was the monthly family service with all ages in together and I suppose I'd have to say that Linden does it better but where this church won hands down was on its friendliness. Daughter has only been a few times but loads of people knew her and remembered GrandDaughter's name and they chatted to us both and GrandDaughter was even happy to sit and eat a biscuit with a Father Christmas grandfather when she's normally wary of men. (Linden is very bad at making occasional visitors feel welcome; comments have been made.) So a good experience of what church should be. (With offers of food after baby is born if needed.)

Then it was home to watch the Wales Ireland rugby game, Wales' first game of this year's Six Nations' tournament. I tell you, I am going to have to give up watching Wales: I have no finger-nails left. It was a great game -for a non-partisan supporter- going back and for between the 2 sides with loads of action. All the pundits had Ireland down to win but not me; I had the blind optimism only a Wales supporter has. And we won in the thrilling last minutes. I had to go and have a lie-down.

One bad thing though was the sin-binning of one of the players. Not bad that he was sin-binned (sent off for 10 minutes) but that he was stupid enough to do what he did, which was downright dangerous and was the same thing the Wales captain was red-carded (sent off and banned from playing for the rest of the competition) for in last year's world cup. There needs to be consistency and less stupidity in the game.

Daughter is currently scrubbing the kitchen floor - down on her hands and knees with a scrubbing brush - because she hopes it will bring on labour but as she said, 'You don't really want to scrub the floor when you're pregnant, do you?'

Wednesday, February 01, 2012

We celebrated Steve's birthday in Zac's last night. Steve runs Breakout Adventure, a charity offering outdoor pursuits. Steve bought this old boat, Svanskar, years ago with the intention of using it for young people to experience life on board and ever since then it's been in dock being repaired. 

So it seemed appropriate for his cake to be ship-shaped.

Remember those sprouts I lost ...

on Christmas Day?
Husband found them in the outside toilet today.