Settling in

It struck me the other day that I've said very little about how we're getting on 6 months after the big move. I'm starting to feel like I live here now.

Three things have occurred to make this happen:

1. We've made some friends which REALLY helps to make us feel settled. And this meant that new year was spent at a dinner party, as opposed to sitting on the sofa, with Dr G willing me not to fall asleep at 10pm. We were out till 2am. I can't remember the last time that happened (she said, ancient so-called party animal now sounding about 105 years old).

2. We keep bumping into kids in the village who smile and wave at Madam. This means I get a smile and a wave from the mum too. Sounds like a small thing, but that does help to make me feel welcome.

3. I bumped into Madam's nursery teacher at the gym last week and had a lovely chat about kid-free days.

That one was a bit odd as I'm not used to people I call 'miss' talking to me while semi-naked. What is the protocol for that kind of meeting? I looked firmly into her eyes and tried to hide my lady parts without looking uncomfortable. A bit daft really, as she's female and has two kids so very likely has seen lady parts before.

Anyway, all in all, Holmes Chapel is starting to feel more like home. Which is good, as the state of the economy and the size of our mortgage means it's going to be home for quite a few years to come. As everyone always says about getting settled, it's knowing people that makes a place.

I do hate sounding cliched, but they are cliches for a reason, aren't they?
Lucy

The Fog

Regular readers will know I was bewildered by my own keys a few month's ago and at least now I know why - being pregnant will do that to you. As it is, I'm now experiencing what I can only describe as my own weather pattern, mostly manifesting itself as an 'hormonal fog'. I'm relating it to pregnancy but again it could be another sign that old age is settling in for the duration.
This week it has exhibited itself in several delightful ways:

• COMPLETELY forgetting several conversations that myself and Dr G have had. Now they were a few month's ago but I'd be hard-pressed to say I was even in the room with him when we talked about it. You can imagine how delighted he was by that.


• Striding purposely upstairs to do something important, but losing the plot as soon as I reach the landing. Not just 'what was I wanting?' more 'why am I here again?'.


• Mentioning that we'd do make purple porridge to Madam then wondering why she was upset when I presented her with a bowl of porridge with blueberries, not purple porridge. I made her cry! It's true, I'm a crummy mummy. More on that later.


• Writing things down on a to do list (sensible) then losing the list (stupid!).

Safe to say it's nowhere near as bad as 'The Fog' (original book by James Herbert for those to remember him). I don't want to murder anyone - well, not yet anyway. Well, okay, not often. Though I did hear about a friend of a friend who's hormones turned her really psychotic and she accused all and sundry of sleeping with her husband. Pregnancy is such a delight.

Anyway, the wonderful She suggested a solution: how about a notepad and a pen on a string round my neck. When something is important, I can then write it down immediately and won't lose the note. Only problem is, I'd look like a mad old lady, like the one I used to see in London. So what's better - the hormonal fog or the old mad bag lady look?

Off to - oh god - I do know this, something to do with water...
Lucy

Mark of Friendship - RIP

I was saddened to read on the Daily(ish) Millbrooker that the 'Mark of Friendship' in Sir's street has shut. Okay, the most recent owners were pretty miserable, and occasionally threw water over well-dressed people, but being four doors up from Sir's gaff, we went there alot.

In fact we've been going there pretty much as long as the family have been in Cornwall. I used to head in there to catch up on all the great gossip that abounds in Millbrook (I can't tell you any, I'd have to kill you), and I have spent many an evening sitting at the bar trying to prevent Sir from singing.

Best of all, the letters of the name started disappearing a few years back. They weren't painted at this stage, just stuck on plastic letters. No-one ever saw who was nicking them, but over time the name changed from the 'Mark of Friendship' to the ' arc of F iendship'.

They changed it to painted letters pretty quickly, but it lasted long enough to give everyone a good chortle. Vandalism with a sense of humour - marvellous.

Arc of Fiendship, you'll be missed.
Lucy

Finger-food-tastic!

I've got to show you this. Drude added it as a comment to the last post about sweet/savoury and it's fab: finger plates for finger food!

As someone who used to fantasise about living on canapes, I've got to ask: where has this perfect party accessory been all my life? Sad thing is that these days I don't go to swanky parties where this must-have might appear.

If anyone out there - or anyone you vaguely know - EVER gets to use one, please please please get a picture. In fact, if anyone is going to a swanky party this season, please post the best canape you come across in the comments.

I adore canapes, and can't really say what was the very best I've eaten, it's too hard. I sway between mini fish and chips and a loaf of crusty bread, hollowed out and filled with wonderful mini free-range sausages along with a caramelised onion dip. They may have appeared at the same party but as you can tell, it was the food I remember not the event.

Hmmm, wonder what's in the fridge?

Lucy

Sweet or savoury?

As my post about turning down page corners raised alot of comment, I'm wondering whether this one will do the same. If you had a choice of two parties, one entirely serving sweet food, the other entirely savoury, which way would you turn?

Having just demolished a pack of Tesco's dim sum for my lunch, I'm pretty clearly a savoury person. Favourite must-have foods include humous and ham. Tuna is always available in my house. If you want to charm me or persuade me to do something, take me out for a good Thai meal.

I won't turn down a box of chocolates as I live with two people with sweet thooths (or is that sweet teeth? I never know). But whether I would actually eat any of them is debateable.

I always head for the crisp section at the newsagents. And being pregnant, I have terrible (wierd) cravings for prawn cocktail and taramasalata. Luckily not in the same meal.

While I know I'm not alone, I'm wondering whether we'd get to party together or whether I would wave you off to the sweets section!
Lucy

Heroes - I'm switching to Fringe

Being an old SF fan who published SF books back in the day, I love a good SF drama.

'Heroes' really got me, I loved it, and still want the super power of copying anything you see, now THAT'S power worth having.

But having faithfully watched every single episode to date, I'm getting confused. And if I'm getting confused, what chance does the casual watcher have? Sorry Heroes, but you're taking it too far and in too many different directions for me to keep loyal. I'm giving up and switching to 'Fringe'.

'Fringe' is great. Very simple, a genuine mad scientist (Walter Bishop) who solves wierd FBI cases with fringe science, a very serious female FBI agent (Olivia) who never smiles, and Pacey from Dawsons Creek, son of said mad scientist.

Like Buffy or the X-Files, you can dip in and out, they solve a crime per episode, Olivia frowns alot and Pacey moans about babysitting his dad.

I'd talk about 'Survivors' but frankly it's giving me the willys. Like '28 Weeks Later' I think it's set around my patch. And I only managed half an hour of that, and then only saw very few zombies, but I still think about it.

'Survivors' is having the same effect. While I know logically that it won't happen, but my imagination isn't convinced.

Yours off to hide behind the sofa,

Lucy

I want to be my cat

I know Iggy wants to be my dog, but right now I'd settle for being my cat.

Today I'm wrestling with product launches and the bloody VAT change (with my web goddess hat on). It's pretty stressful as all of it has to be done on Monday, and that's no time at all in web terms.

But where are the cats while I grind my teeth? Lounging on my office window sill in the winter sunshine. No stress, no hassle, dreaming of tuna no doubt. Looks idyllic from where I'm sitting at this desk right now.

Give me fur, paws, a tail and a mundane diet of pellets and more pellets. I can knead my paws on sleeping people at 5am. I can purr. I can wee/poo in a box, honest!

I wanna be a cat. Doesn't everybody?

Off to disturb their peace because I can,

Lucy