Just back in from painting a nice clear cross on the front door. C is in the states all week and he’s poorly too – all the bonus points he gets for combining illness with jetlag and having to work are removed by the lovely peaceful clean-cool-sheets-ness of a hotel. I have a stinking cold and feel very sorry for myself (I have run out of lemsips and am housebound, too); Maggie is not at all well. I picked her up from school yesterday all pale, hot and teary (am slightly miffed as she’d been up coughing a lot the previous nght so I had specifically gone in to say that I thought she was mostly ok but she might not be and if not, they should ring me as soon as and I’d go and get her). She took to her bed and slept from 6 last night – 10 this morning, just waking for extra doses of medicine and drinks of water and cries. She’s been up and down today but was back in bed again by 6 this evening and I honestly can’t see her going back to school tomorrow.

Which is a disaster, as tomorrow evening she has her last ever playdate with her bestfriendinthewholeworldever, who is leaving the country this weekend. We are braced for grief.

Tamsin is perky and bright (it was her turn last week, when she was sick all over me and the bed on two consecutive nights) which is not ideal as I cannot find the energy to do fun toddler stuff. Much cbeebies has been watched today, but I really will have to think of something for tomorrow (even if that involves wrapping her up and shutting her out in the frosty garden for half an hour).

We saw the Mighty Boosh at the weekend: was entertaining but not hilariously laugh-out-loud funny, which was a bit disappointing. Cameron and Maggie enjoyed the Mold panto far more.

Pittenweem art festival last weekend. Mixed weather; Tamsin dislikes sand; most of the art the same as usual (in a good way) though I was enormously disappointed that Susan McGill‘s gorgeous black and white ceramics sold so quickly – mostly at her preview – and had to settle for a necklace instead of a candlestick. Hope she is there again next year. Saw Aunties Irene, Catherine and Rachel, and took the children to a ceilidh – it took M a while to want to join in but she enjoyed it once she did. Auntie Irene managed to charm Yoshihito Kawabata, one of the invited artists, who had made a stone circle on the pier, into presenting her with one of his pebbles but we failed to see him at all.

Back to the to-do list again once we got home, then on Friday I went into Liverpool with some friends to see the Klimt exhibition. It was not quite as I expected – my expectations being based almost entirely on this picture, which adorned the wall of nearly every student flat I ever lived in. It wasn’t there (but others were, which were similar and lovely, alongside some of his landscapes, which were lovely too, and a load of random articles by other members of the Viennese Secession, some of which were lovely and some not so lovely and none of which really seemed to have anything to do with Klimt apart from being made by people who knew him. And some other paintings by him, some of which were interesting and some not so interesting). Afterwards, dinner at Etsu, which has got all sorts of people talking. (The restaurant, not us having gone to it.) The word on the street, which I can back up now I have been myself, if that it is not posh but it is very authentic. We eschewed the Brit-friendly starter and main course set up and ordered plate after plate of starters; stuffed ourselves silly with gorgeous Japanese food and came home very happy indeed. Though I make better gyoza myself.

Japanese food again on Saturday as we went to the Hanyuda-sans’ leaving party. I feel very spoilt. And very full.

Went to the Tatton Park flower show on Thursday – yes, that’s right, two whole days off from being mummy in a week! Shocking. (Repercussions in the form of slightly clingy children are sometimes a price worth paying.) Despite getting halfway up the motorway before having Sara check my bag for the tickets, which necessitated a slight unscheduled visit home again, we were there bright and early and it was neither too busy nor too hot. First off we kind of fell into conversation with a woman who was hanging about by her own back-to-back garden; she looked vaguely familiar but as we tried to figure out what red flowers Sara might have spreading in her garden and then talked about her garden, I didn’t think much of it. Then I squinted at her name badge…hmm, lodge lane nursery sounds vaguely familiar; maybe it is near here. Eventually twigged that she was the nice lady from Bluebell Cottage who had shown Maggie her cat and tadpoles in May. Oops. Her garden was one of the nicest, anyway, inspired by Great Dixter and full of plants.

Coffee and doughnuts then onto the show gardens. Quite uninspired in general this year, I thought – there are usually a couple that make you think wow. Lots of nice plants (we scribbled notes and photographed) but most of the gardens just looked like somebody’s nice back garden. We did wonder if there was a dearth of plants to choose from with the iffy weather, but I don’t know. Even Chris Beardshaw’s, which won best in show, was just a couple of (well planted) borders and a lawn. A lawn! We watched some children doing a dance in wellies (briefly).

The floral marquee was very busy but we didn’t let that stop us filling the old-lady trolley with lovely plants. Favourite this year was “Disa“; a kind of fluorescent-bright cool orchid, which were displayed on a black background and looked absolutely stunning. I have two glowing in my front room now, which is not cool but hot at the moment and has no black background (they are still pretty). We spotted Joe Swift and Gordon Burns (he reads our local news) – who looked vaguely familiar but we did have to ask a random lady in a hat. Trendy plants included achillea, agapanthus, penstemons and lavender, while prairie planting at last seems to be on the wane. I fell madly in love with a wicker ball on a metal poley thing (I am not going to explain this very well – have a look at it here); you could sit, well almost lie, in it and I have fantasies of spending entire summers in there with a book (perhaps the nanny will bring one when she comes). It would look fabulous on our back patio if I only had a spare two grand.

Guess where Cameron and I went on Sunday?

Go on, guess.

No, not the garden centre (we did that Monday instead ha ha ha).

Nope, not B&Q.

Not even Borders for coffee-and-a-book.

We spent the day at the Lovebox London Weekender, and very good it was too. Mum and dad had the children and very kindly dropped us (and picked us up) at a tube station. We saw lots of bands we had never heard of, ate surprisingly good food (jerk chicken was fantastic), did lots of people-watching (Londoners dress so well compared with people in Chester! Though I do think non-spring-chicken girls should think very carefully before adopting the Kate Moss short shorts and wellies combo). The Howling Bells were not my cup of tea and we wandered off halfway through; Roni Size had a good sound but again, not my thing. When it started to rain we sheltered under the overhang of one of the smaller stages and caught the beginning of Rachel Unthank‘s set. Which was so fantastic that we stayed for the whole thing even though the sun came back out on about the third song: I even bought the CD afterwards. And got it signed.

Goldfrapp were (was?) good, and pleasingly bonkers with a stageshow that included dancing angels in bikinis, a maypole that turned into a pole-dancing pole, and dancers in bikinis and wolf heads. Oh, and costumes made out of what looked like the plastic recycling bin.

At last it was time for the Flaming Lips, the reason we had gone – this was their only UK date this year. Who completely out-bonkersed Goldfrapp (she must have been a bit miffed) with a giant bubble, balloons, streamers, smoke, dressed-up people and inflatable aliens. Brilliant. Had everybody singing along and dancing. I have some photos here, though we took the small camera for reasons of lightness so they are not that fantastic.

OK so I’ve been back for a week, but I’ve been busy!

Skye was gorgeous (some photos here but don’t click unless you are keen on pretty hills and my children); weather was mixed to say the least, but we were only rained off on two days and the first was rather pleasant with games and dvds and general not-doing-much. (On the second we were Doomed: we tried to go swimming, the pool was shut; to a playground, which we couldn’t find; on a boat, too choppy…ended up driving from Broadford to Staffin for a baked potato. Lovely scenic drives and small walks between showers are fine for us but the girls were fed up. We finished in a pub playing giant connect four.)

We travelled up via Glencoe and the ferry for the sake of the romance. Week 1 we stayed in Glendale (in the fabulous missionary’s house): high points included a wonderful meal at the three chimneys (inlaws handily in a nearby B&B and could be called upon for babysitting duties), spotting a golden eagle at the Quiraing, Neist point (though we disappointingly failed to see sharks, dolphins, or anything much beyond sheep). Tamsin had a wonderful time shouting BAA! at every single sheep (there are a lot of sheep) and I enjoyed preparing very basic meals from the village shop and reading books. Maggie walked well. The roads, 2m-wide sheep-covered strips of tarmac across moors, took a little getting used to, and it never got dark. We could see the outer hebrides from our living room.

Week 2 we stayed in Breakish, near Broadford and the bridge. Failed to see otters (we will just have to go again) even though we made the trip to the hide but we visited the serpentarium and held a python. We popped onto the mainland to visit Eilean Donan and Plockton (of Hamish MacBeth fame) and to go on a boat trip. We had scenic drives, walked round Loch Coruisk in the driving rain, built sandcastles and generally pottered about. Lit the stove in the evenings as it was chilly, and ate lovely fish.

Allotment weeds are as high as my head, I have a pile of work on, and Cameron is away on a course. Back to real life.

Some loafy disasters this week.

I decided to see last night’s “unmissable” match as an opportunity to zip to the allotment – I occasionally do, once the children are in bed, but rarely without feeling some twangs of conscience at leaving the allotment-widower at home (even though I think he quite likes it). Yesterday, as official football-widow myself, no conscience. (And I’d be there again tonight trying at long last to get those very late potatoes in, were it not raining. Gah. Instead I find myself at home, another “unmissable” match on – this one causing much tension and stress – with a pile of ironing and a casserole to make. The joys.)

Left reasonably simple instructions regarding my lovely homemade bread: take it out when the oven beeps.

(You can see where this is going, can’t you.)

(You are right.)

It cooked for 2 hours and I came home to a blackened charcoaly lump smoking gently in the oven.

Today’s loaf stuck fast to its tin. (I prised it off with a pie-slice; only lost a small layer from the bottom crust.) They come in threes, right – so one more mistake then I can get back into making nice bread again.

On a nice note, I spent yesterday afternoon at the Bluebell cottage garden. Sadly camera-less – I have my hands quite full enough thank you with two small children and they have ponds – we had a lovely time admiring the garden then buying plants while the girls ran amok, then to the wildflower meadow where they really could run free. Mostly buttercups at the moment and absolutely glorious: up to M’s waist (T’s head) and what children are supposed to do!

What we did (last weekend) was head down to mum and dad’s. Friday we went to Legoland, Maggie’s slightly belated birthday treat. It took her a little while to get into it – for the idea of “going on things” to sink in – but once it did, she loved it. She was much braver than we expected and loved the jetski ride with Cameron. The lego troll in the fairyland brook was a bit scary, though – and it was a bit of a shame it wasn’t warmer as there is a fantastic water-play area for littlies. We only had to shelter from one rainstorm, which is pretty good going, and unfortunately ran out of steam before getting to the Viking water ride thing I fancied going on – but that just means we will have to go again. Nice and quiet on a Friday, too.
Cameron spotted in the paper that there was a Banksy “thing” happening at Waterloo, and as luck would have it we were planning a day in London on Saturday anyway. We had tickets for the Lord of the Rings musical and my parents primed for a day of childcare. Cameron’s city knowledge far surpasses mine these days (the shame) and he led us straight to the appropriate tunnel – a short queue and we were in. Lots of great stencilling but my absolute favourite was the small children with spray-cans and crayola stencils merrily putting up small dolphins and palm trees!

After lunch we walked over to the theatre, past huge crowds out enjoying the sunshine on the south bank. The musical was fine: what a treat to go to the theatre in the afternoon and beautifully, spectacularly staged. The incidental music was nice but the songs forgettable and the trouble with the LOTR story – well actually there are a couple of troubles with it. One, there is just too much of it so it had to be cut hugely (of course, who wants to sit in a theatre for 4 days), and two, there is a lot of “travelling” or “being chased” which in effect means watching people run in circles round the stage. Still it was 3 hours and I didn’t feel bored, so that says something. And I loved the bit where the orcs came along the aisles and leered at the audience. I was scared and the little girl in front of us was utterly terrified.

Dinner in Chinatown and home to a sleeping baby (!) and an in-bed child. Fantastic.

We had a brilliant week at Centerparc and have come back quite recharged (Cameron especially, with his 2 weeks in the states beforehand, has been out of the office for an unusually long time). If exhausted. Swimming for several hours 5 days running (both Maggie and Mia are really starting to swim); the girls went on a pony trek – Maggie rode Valentino and Mia, Red – and I felt quietly virtuous as I cycled through the forest before 9 am one morning en route to a yoga class. Which was fantastic and left me all stretched and calm (which of course didn’t last 2 minutes but that is not the point) while a bit sad that I can’t find time to do it more regularly: 4 classes since M was born is not a very good rate. I keep toying with the idea of a DVD but realistically I know myself and I will never do it. Oh, and Suzanne and I sloped off to spend an afternoon at the spa. How yummy are we. The children slept like the dead: Maggie and Mia, despite sharing a room, went off without even demanding a story one night!

We got back Friday and spent the weekend mostly pottering. Saturday, I turned the compost in the home bin, which is not yet ready to use. I am still highly suspicious it is feeding some animals, presumably rats. Pulled ground elder out of the rose bed while Cameron tackled the shed and made a large pile of stuff for the tip.
On Sunday I spent a couple of child-free hours at the allotment. It felt surprisingly cosy despite the earlier snow – we only had a scattering – even though at one point I was hailed on.
My first tulips have flowered! Gorgeous creamy-white ones (“purissima”, I think, although they don’t much resemble the description beyond being quite white). All the tulips at the allotment have been carefully selected to go nicely with my decor so I cut the first 5 and brought them home and they do look absolutely fabulous on the mantelpiece. Am very pleased with them (they opened right out through the course of the afternoon then shut back up again at night, too.)

One of my PSBs is finally starting to produce some purple sprouts, which is most exciting. Unlike the other three which remain resolutely green and leafy.

Finished double-digging and manuring the site for my first raised bed, and got it constructed. I am so smug. I need to buy some bags of compost to fill it, as my home-made stuff isn’t there yet, but I can’t tell you how proud I was. Shame I forgot to pack my camera.

Last night we went Out, to see I’m sorry I haven’t a clue. Not a recording; they are touring a kind of greatest hits. Very funny indeed and Sara and Ian, the crack babysitting team, had Tamsin asleep in her own cot by 7.15 where she made not a sound until about midnight (then was up every hour or so all night long: how do they know?)

And today was back to normal(ish) as C had to get to work – in my car – and M had to get to preschool.

Last summer, for Ann’s birthday, we were all booked to have a lovely spa day until Tamsin got chickenpox* and I had to cancel. It’s taken 8 months to rearrange but finally, this Sunday, we went! It was touch and go as I dosed a very sad Tamsin with calpol* on Saturday night, but by Sunday morning she seemed a little more cheery and frankly I needed some time off, so off I went. A spot of lunch; a float about the pool – more chat than swim – steam room, jacuzzi then off for our “treatments”, a lovely facial and a pedicure. Hoorah! I don’t care what Julie Burchill has to say about it, I think being pampered is rather nice from time to time.

Today, I feel achey and shivery, which I very much hope is a manifestation of lack of sleep because I do not have time for a lurgy. Maggie has been back to the doctor with her cough, which is keeping everybody up for hours every night, as the inhaler did absolutely nothing. We now have antibiotics, which are not expected to do anything “but sometimes you are surprised” (I actually very much like this doctor – coughs are just one of those things, aren’t they). Tamsin has a nasty cold and is like one of those revolting toddlers with a green streaming nose that I dislike so much when they belong to other people; she’s refusing to settle at night for hours on end too, and is very thin post-virus. Tempers are starting to fray.

On the bright side, a sunny (but very cold) day today persuaded me to take the girls to the zoo for a quick run and to see Margaret the new baby giraffe. She’s less than 6 foot tall with big eyes and absolutely gorgeous so I am very glad we did. And the elephants were having fun in the pool.

*Is it only my children who are constantly ill?