Sorry how rude of me good morning one and all and happy Saturday.
This week i am glad to say life has returned to normal so i shall not be bothering you with weird and frightening dreams i shall just be telling you the real true life stuff.
It all started last Sunday really when the washing machine decided to pump water out all over the utility room floor, immediately it reminded me of the great flood of 2004 in my last house.
That dreadful day When i decided to plumb in the dishwasher all by myself :0/
Not being an 'actual' plumber it all ended in unfortunate tears and a brand new 3 storey house wot was ruined, with all our stuff in it :0/ anyway i shall not bother you with that as i already told you about it last week. I may though one day elaborate and tell you the proper story of which im sure could actually be made in to a film, The perfect storm is the closest film match i can think to it :0/
What i would like to know though is, if there are any plumbers out there, do you always have wet socks? and do you carry spare ones about in your lunch box,? Because my second plumbing accident of the washing machine kind ( last sunday) again resulted in my wet socks.
What made it worse was that i emptied all of the dirty washing out of the basket and on the floor to mop it up, so i ended up with more wet socks. Rather unfortunatly I'm sure that the cat had pissed behind the washing machine as all of the wet stuff quickly gathered a certain cat piss aroma, which i then had to take up to my mums house and stick in her machine. I'm sure she noticed the vile smell, she didn't say anything but her face was not of a pleasant nature :0/
Ive had offers all week from friendly folk offering to do my washing for me, in some cases it has been ironed too, so i have decided to keep it broken for a little longer ;0) but shhhhh don't tell anyone.
Work has been shall we say interesting this week. As you know I'm doing an exhibition on Africa, and also as you know I've spent hours painting white tigers in the painting wot don't live there :0( I'm not actually sure where this painting is going anymore. It seems to be going from bad to worse.
I spend a lot of time talking on the phone whilst painting, mainly to fizzer follower number 3.
This week we had a particularly long and interesting conversation, mostly about other people whilst i painted a monkey. I must have been feeling in a cuddly mood for i painted him hugging the lion, well this was all to take a strange and perverted twist as i put the phone down i took a closer look and oh my god my monkey looked like he was actually sh*****g the lion.
Shocked and stunned by this image I did not say a word but simply put the image up on facebook, i did not need to say anything because everyone else thought that this was what the monkey was doing too :0/ apart from my friend Ali who has a rather sweet Innocent mind ( until she's drank two bottles of red ).
I wonder really whether to give up on this project right now and seek some counselling, may be im just not cut our for this job anymore, that afternoon i went out for half an hour just to pick up the kids, my friend Anne says ' hey i like yer monkey' (whilst laughing) then i go in to the shop and someone shouts over 'Hey Rach nice monkey ' and he winks at me like I'm some kinda pervert. Ive kind of covered it up now i think by sitting another monkey by dirty monkeys side, although if you look at that closely his knees look like a pair of boobs :0/
Talking of boobs have you heard that dreadful song on the local radio stations ? its advertising a breast enlargement / resize whatever clinic, its really crap but catchy. I may have to email them to take it off air, my child of the naughtiest variety number 3 , keeps singing 'myyyyyy Breast' at the top of her voice in super markets and at her nannys house on the way to school, and in all sorts of innapropriate places she has no idea what it means but everyone else does :0/
Speaking of child 3 she was to bring home this week a Cake mixture, its a 'chain' cake. When we were kids we just used to have letters but oh no not now, we have 'cakes' Herman his name was and i erm use the 'was' as in the past tense... which um he now is. :0/ not to the surprise of anyone i may add.
I have now actually killed a cake mix :0( he was supposed to grow you see, something to do with the yeast in him, he needed stirring and talking to, ( may be i said the wrong things? i dunno) then when he was big enough he had to be split in to 4. Parts of him were to be passed on to some other unfortunate souls and the rest of him was to be baked :0( Herman currently looks like a brick) :0/ a shrunken brick, child number 3 is angry with me, i tried to revive him somewhat with a litle water, just until i can pilfer some mix off of someone else, and replace him. You know like what you do with dead pets . not that i pilfer peoples pets off of them that would be wrong, i go and buy new ones wot look the same.
Boy 40 is not good at that though, i once asked hm to go and buy a fish to replace the dead one, this particular fish was very small and dainty, he basically came back with a shark !! duh. The lies i had to tell to get out of that one. Anyway to be honest who ever thought it right to give it to her in the first place?? it was bound to end up with bogeys in it. and who in their right mind would trust me with a cake mix??? bonkers that what they were.
Still speaking of child 3 (sorry its good therapy) Apart from the my breast song she has annoying habits of putting things in my shoes, i had an important meeting at the beginning of the week just about some work stuff, I try to look smart on these occasions so i dumped the ragamuffin boho style and put on my work suit a nice fitted little number of what i wore with black boots, I didn't notice at first when i sat down in the office but very soon it was apparent that there was something nasty in my boot. I am a bit of a pwincess to these things and have an over active imagination. Standing up to show off some drawings there was clearly something very large and squidgy under my foot, loosing concentration of what i was doing i stumbled over simple words because all i could think of was that it was a big fat slug.
It freaked me out beyond words i started to sweat (a lot) and felt a little nauseous as i could do absolutely nothing about it. I could hardly say ( oh excuse me Mr Man i just need to remove the slug from my boot) its not very professional never mind weird.
After the meeting i ran to the car like Quasimodo. Having no time to move the seat back i frantically took off my boot. And yes inside was a black thing about 2 inches long.
It was a flippin wine gum!! can you imagine what thats like?? I'm shuddering now just thinking about the whole episode, apparently according to child 3 it must have fell in there out of the cupboard (which is a very long way a way from where i keep my boots. Please try that, put a wine gum in your boot and go out for a walk, see how you feel.
She also heard on the news this week that some criminal has been remanded in custard for being a thief and so now thinks if you shop lift or burgle someones house you get incarcerated in custard. Child 2 who is 4 years older and our future priminister says she will look in to this matter as it does not seem an appropriate punishment. I have no idea how child one got to be so intelligent with younger siblings like this :0/
She also Believes that her uncle Damian lives inside her Ds which is slightly worrying because 'he does too'.
Well apart from the buzzing thing which entered my hair on the way home from school this week, causing me to jump up and down like a big girl who had been electrocuted whilst smacking my own self around the head to get it out, (whilst walking by myself along a busy main road.) Not a lot more has happened.
Except for that is the Parsnip accident off of last sunday where i managed to crack off half of my thumb nail using a new peeler. Boy 40 bought this new peeler because he is quite frankly fed up by the amount of times i cut my self whilst cooking / preparing tea :0( ........ He has not realised yet (after 17 years) that i just was not cut out to be a chef a cleaner or an all round boring house wife, its just not natural to me. Id rather be doing stuff I'm good at, (messing about on facebook mainly) so obviously when i try to do these things they go wrong. The parsnip was a long one and so needed a lot of swift fast peeling action. I was singing along at the time to Pixie Lott, so really in my bored of cooking mind i was on the stage under the lights at wembley. With my band
Dancing and peeling is obviously not a great strength of mine (nor pixie lotts probably) as i discovered when peeled off my own thumb. :0( half the nail came off too. Very quickly i was transported back in to my own kitchen Wembley stadium had gone and all that was left was lots of blood :0(
But anyway at least it got me out of cooking Sunday lunch, which was good. good for my diners and good for me.
Gotta go now the small people have gone off in to town with daddy to buy mothers day stuff so if you see them just make sure they go in the right shops. ;0)
I am going to go and sit on my Kylie arse for an hour to eat biscuits watch some trashy TV and dream of places where i shoud be ..............
Turrahh
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