NATIONAL SHED WEEK

One of the most successful birthday presents as far as my new shiny nine year old is concerned, is the new space down at the bottom of the garden in which to play. I mentioned in an earlier post that we managed (with the help of a very useful-everyone-should-have-one-handyman) to surprise him on the morning of his birthday by turning this:-



into this:-


...and now all three of the children seem to be fighting for access. I had no idea that it was "National Shed Week" last week, a time when seemingly, the British obsession with what to do with the shed at the bottom of the garden reaches fever pitch.

Frankly the concept of "the shed" has never appealed to me. I can't even be bothered to walk to them they are so boring. They make my legs feel tired at the mere thought and I go all floppy and have to lie down in the middle of the garden instead. My grandfather always had one of those uber organised garage/shed things that he was immensely proud of and we were expected to want to spend hours in there with him looking impressed. My youngest brother was the only one who got even close to being allowed to actually touch anything in there.

Even a shed that is full of my own belongings doesn't appeal....tools (inherited from above mentioned grandfather and/or concerned males who think I need to own tools - of no interest whatsoever) 85 non matching, ill-fitting wellington boots (none of which belong to me because I am pathetically pleased about the fact that I don't own a pair), 8 x pairs roller blades (5 x too small and were broken when bought from school fair), 6 x tennis rackets (all too small and broken), paint tins (dry), christmas decs, garden tools (all now hanging neatly on walls - look great - no need to move), bicycles, lawn mower, lot of boxes and so on and bloody so on.

However, now that I have put a teeny weeny fridge, our old sofa bed, a rug, some chairs, a child's painting and a dart board, I am thinking about moving down there myself.

I am a little worried about the petrol fumes from the lawnmower though - ever since I was a child I have been a bit of a petrol-head, my mother was always worried about my penchant for wanting to hang out at petrol stations rather too long inhaling large sniffs of petrol....

I better not allow myself to get wi-fi down there or that will be it - I won't be bothered to walk back up the garden to the house ever again and the best thing about it is that there is no kitchen! All I need to do is decant the soft drinks in the fridge and fill it up with my wine supplies.

THE ONGOING PAIN OF DIVORCE

My arm hurts. We've all had our injections for Africa. Typhoid, Diphtheria, Tetanus, Hepatitis A, too late to have Hep B, too late to have rabies (phew), Yellow Fever hopefully not needed. Unbelievably expensive malaria tablets required....

My 9 year old came over to hold my hand in the Dr's surgery when the nurse suggested that she inject me first. How sweet was that? When the nurse asked him if he was allergic to anything he said "yes, tomatoes and brown plasters" - first I'd heard about either but there we go.

My heart hurts too. I am having a mini crisis brought on by what I suppose could be termed "The ongoing pain of divorce". It never really goes away this divorce pain. It just gets managed for a while, or even sometimes nearly put away neatly in a box on a shelf and then suddenly, BOOM the box falls off the shelf on to the floor and loads of little bits labelled "shattered life exhibit A, B, C" and so on, litter the floor.

I am really trying to come to terms with not just another woman going on holiday with my children, but a particular "other woman". I am trying to work out whether if I was that "other woman" I would have accepted the invitation to go with my new boyfriend and his 3 children on safari. Probably. Why not. My father is not helping by announcing that he is really disappointed she isn't going to be arriving in Cape Town until we have left because having heard from me that she is beautiful he was looking forward to meeting her. Thanks dad - but I know what he is doing really - he's just trying to get me to relax and have a laugh about it and accept that there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. But in my current state of mind IT'S NOT BLOODY FUNNY. At all.

When I feel like this it is hard to continue finding the courage to keep going. Everything starts to feel difficult. I struggle to remember why I chose the path I did. Why I didn't stay where I was. I even find it hard to conjure up the image my friend suggested I should think about every time I get a pang of regret "just visualise your ex husband sitting on the loo - that always helps" - the problem with that little mind exercise is that I can't think of one person sitting on the loo that isn't going to make me want to cancel my holiday with them immediately.

Anyway, it could be worse. My ex husband could be going out with one of my best friends. I know somebody who divorced her husband only to find that he got together with one of her best friends almost immediately and now they live together and sometimes she has to look at holiday photos of her children with her friend in close up poses....and that must really hurt.

Another friend has recently not only had to deal with the news that her ex husband is having a baby with the woman that ripped her life apart, but suddenly found the girlfriend was in need of an emergency scan in the baby unit that she runs. How hideous.

Life can be crap sometimes.

But I can agonise or I can simply accept it all and deal with it.

"When a dog runs at you, whistle for him" (although I'm not sure whether that principle will work with a lion when I'm on safari).

Perhaps, in the words of two fine men, I shall simply have to "Let It Be".

John Lennon and Paul McCartney

WAR HORSE

It is a rare beast that successfully manages to captivate ALL THREE of my children AND ME at the same time.

Michael Morpurgo's 1st World War children's novel (about a horse) has been turned into a fantastic theatre production and with the help of extraordinarily powerful puppetry, brings a story about the futility of war very much to life.

The animation of the bamboo framed horses provided by the human co-ordinators created incredibly expressive and realistic imagery, with intricate movements of precision - a mere toss of the head, or the flick of the tail meant that it wasn't long before we forgot about the controllers and began only to see the horse as a living, breathing being.





My children loved it, although my daughter thought it was a little too long.

Top marks from us then.

Although I observed one disgruntled theatregoer who left a comment on one of the reviews which amused me:

"War Horse was so bad I fell asleep. It's ridiculous how people can think that someone (or three) holding a horrendous excuse for a puppet is "stunning". The plot was so awful it was unbelievable, this performance has scarred me to the extent that I no longer wish to see another play".

Jack, Newcastle

TRANSLATION REQUIRED

I was sent this video via email with the title "Are women just born this way?"

PET SHOP BOYS 02 REVIEW

My friend was there. I'm including his review because he's sent me some fantastic photos. Their shows always look uber cool:-





"I’ve been a fan since the PSB’s first hit the charts all those years ago in the 80’s, but never been to see them live; their synthesized and layered soundtrack, mostly electronically produced, has never seemed (to me) a sound that would translate well to a stage show. I did see their ‘opera’ “Closer to Heaven”, twice, and loved every moment – but then, they were not performing.

Kicking off the set with “Heart” from oh!... way back in ’88, this set the tempo for a frothy nostalgic bop down that lane with memory on the name board and had everyone up and dancing from the start. A simple but effective stage set of a wall of white cubes which were knocked down, re-arranged and re-stacked several times during the show and served as sometimes podiums for the energetic dancers and onto which were projected images and blocks of colour contrasted with both the boys, to start with, and the backing singers/dancers dressed in bright coloured cubes providing a simple but ‘very 80’s’ backdrop to the brilliantly delivered songs. A moody “Kings Cross”, a wonderfully raucous (and camp) “Always on my mind”, the lesser known “Two divided by zero”, “Viva la Vida” and the simply brilliant “Go West” which had everyone jumping around and singing along. Hit followed hit with only a couple of references to the new album “Yes”, – “Building a Wall” and “Pandemonium”, being the only two I recognised. “It’s a Sin”, “Being boring” and the effervescent “West end Girls” brought the show to a fitting end which is where it all started 24 years ago – and it sounded just as right today as it did way back then.

It’s difficult to say exactly how much of the sound was produced on the night and how much was drawn from the memory sticks of the computers – but it was good; very slick and very polished. True to form, the reserved Chris Lowe stood in his ‘DJ booth’ playing synth. But did finally manage a smile at the end. Neil (Tennant) delivered a sound but staid performance as front man; that said, he’s is no longer a young man, but then again, neither is the reviewer"

I went with them on their world tour back in the '80's because I was working in the music business then. I've got some fantastic photos of us all together then, but no good ones of the actual show. SO. Instead, I thought I'd add photographic evidence that Chris Lowe can smile after all (how cute does he look in his sailor's hat?):-

TEACHER LEAVING

My 9 year old's teacher left yesterday. She didn't quite make it till the end of the term - her baby is due very soon now - look at her lovely bump - looks like she's hidden another football under her t-shirt:-



She's had a wonderful effect on my son. He got a brilliant report and really enjoyed being taught by her. He sent her a very heartfelt letter saying thank you for being the best teacher ever and "please make sure you have a BOY!!".

BAD MORNING

I am having a bad morning. No sleep. Fretting.

We had a very civilised-on-behalf-of -our-newly-9-year-old-son meal out together - I booked our son's favourite restaurant and invited his father, all three kids and my ex husband's sister and her friend - who I always got on very well with and is lovely. I invited her to come when we bumped into her the day before - she lives out of town and had come up for the Hampton Court Flower Show and every time I see her she starts to cry. She can't bear the fact that we've split up. Anyway, it was good to have her with us last night and to catch up.

My ex husband called me just as I had got in to bed. "I'm just calling to let you know that I've invited my girlfriend on holiday with the children". I went quiet. "Well, thanks for letting me know but just be aware that it is going to go down really badly with our daughter". She already feels she doesn't get enough time just with him.

...and then I couldn't sleep, because sometime ago he told me that I couldn't go on safari with them because it wasn't appropriate and now he's invited his new girlfriend who happens to be Builder Bloke's ex wife to go with MY children to be with them on safari when that is all I want to do. I am so upset about it I can't even bear to think about it.

However, there is nothing I can do but try not to let the children know I"m upset so that their holiday isn't spoilt and I can't even really talk to Builder Bloke about how upset I am that another woman is going to be with my children because he is also going to be upset that his ex wife is going to be with my children.

God. What a bloody mess.

Still. It's all in the approach.

I need to do what his ex wife did when I met her for the first time. Give every impression that I am truly delighted that I am not having to go with my children on holiday and that I'll be having a far better time somewhere else.....

Yeah right.

Weird.