Just Jo!

….International Women’s Day, we did absolutely nothing today! And felt jolly good for it too!!
I gave considerable thought to cycling over to pottery, Olivia’s still got a few pieces there to pick up. But the padlock to the side gate is stuck and I couldn’t find the WD40 anywhere. I might have found it, if, perhaps, I’d looked in more than the one place I thought to look.
We could have dragged our bikes through the house. But as we’re celebrating IWD, we couldn’t possibly entertain the thought of doing anything strenuous like that.
I knitted this weeks square for The Throw. Olivia amused herself by starting a foundation row for crochet. And another one. And another one. We have wonderful pink strings all over the front room, in addition to fragments of nesting material.
We read books. We lazed. We wasted our time.
Then I realised Maisy needed food, so we donned coats and got the bus to town. Olivia also ended up with some new clobber from Primark. We got food. We got cat food and litter. I know it’s possible to get vegan cat food, and I’m sorely tempted at times because I can’t stand the smell of the meaty stuff, but it’s so expensive. And Maisy would probably pack her bags in a hissy fit anyway.
We bumped into Lin and the boys in The Works as well. So we said hello. Because that’s a nice thing to do.
After we went our seperate ways to continue shopping, we bumped into them again on the bus coming home. Lin got new trousers. They’re the same as mine that I got a few weeks ago. She copied me!!! I got mine first!!!
The boys had got their books for World Book Day. They got the same ones as Olivia. They copied her!!! She got hers first!!! OK, OK….I know that in their age range, those were the only books available, apart from the hideously pink ones that I banned Olivia from having, and I couldn’t quite see either of the boys going for them!

Adam was still on the ‘puter when we got home. When we’d gone out, he’d been typing up a 6 week plan for himself. He’s not going to drink any alcohol for the duration, if he goes out with friends, he’ll stick to soft drinks. He’s not going clubbing at all. He’s not eating any fast food or junk food and he’ll be going to the gym 5 times a week. The aim of this plan is to save money. He’s starting it on April 2nd. Let’s see how long it lasts….
He said to me that he’s going to put in a patent for his microwaveable baked beans tin idea. I said he’d better get a move on, because judging from some of yesterday’s comments, other people might get in there before him!
“Mother!! What did you do that for??!! That’s my idea!!”
Then, shaking his head sadly, “I can’t believe you did that!”
Oops….can you patent an idea though?

Seen over on IndigoShirl….

Your Brain is Green

Of all the brain types, yours has the most balance. You are able to see all sides to most problems and are a good problem solver. You need time to work out your thoughts, but you don’t get stuck in bad thinking patterns. You tend to spend a lot of time thinking about the future, philosophy, and relationships (both personal and intellectual).

I have the most balanced brain. Ha!!!

Then, after what has been a very relaxed and lazy day, I kicked Adam off the ‘puter, “It’s my time now! Go be a teenager in your room!” Then I read this on Yahoo and I got seriously pissed off by a certain MP. Adam is black and he can’t understand why I’m not jumping for joy and celebrating his decision to join the RAF after his gap year. Racism is not acceptable in any way, shape or form. And pleading ignorance, a la Miss Goody, or just not thinking, in this day and age is f*****g pathetic and inexcusable. I won’t apologise for the bad language either. The only time I use strong language like that is when I’m seriously pissed off. Or repeating a joke.
But looking on the bright side, eternal optimist that I am, after 6 months with his Dad in London, followed by 6 months working in Spain, hopefully Adam will have changed his mind about the RAF. Hopefully. Fingers crossed. Toes crossed. Any other suitable body part crossed.

Olivia is having an early teenage sulk at the moment. We saw Lisa and the girls yesterday, I was keeping an eye on them for an hour or so at group, and a tentative arrangement was made for Olivia to stay the night at her house. I would say sleep, but by all accounts they don’t do much of that!
But Olivia couldn’t make her mind up. She finally decided for definite when we got home from town. So I gave Lisa a ring, but could only leave a message. Olivia’s sulking because…. “I really want to stay at Lisa’s! Can you phone her back?! Can you text her?! Can you do something??!!”
“No. You left it ’til the last minute. I rang Lisa, left a message and that is all I’m doing. For future reference, don’t leave it to the last minute to make up your mind.” (And I’m pretty certain this little nugget of wisdom has been passed on to both children on numerous occasions. )
She sulked.
“It’s your own fault, so get over it.”
Never have had much time for sulking kids.
But as I was typing this, there was a little tap at the door, “Is it too late to pick her up?”
“Oh, you are a life saver!!”
Yes! It was Lisa, she’d got my message. A life saver for Olivia, because quite honestly, I’m under the impression that it is now illegal to murder your children for sulking. But I’m a bit fuzzy on the law, you’ll have to correct me if I’m wrong.
And a life saver for me, because I’m also fuzzy on the legislation about using Lush in prison bathrooms.

Now, it’s dinner. A squashed Clive’s pie (Chestnut Cassoulet) and the last of the stuffed vine leaves from the deli we stopped at yesterday. Dessert will be strawberries and kiwiberry. They’re new, they’re baby kiwi fruit. They’re nice!
And tonight, in the name of sisterly solidarity (and because I won’t be spending the night in a cell after all), and celebrating women’s achievement’s in my own unique way, I’m going for an extra long Lush bath. I think Emmeline Pankhurst et al would be proud.
Perhaps not. Being decadent in loads of Lush bubbles is hardly on a par with chaining yourself to railings, being forcefed or getting trampled by a horse.