Chills, Hills & Teeth

01/06/2009


Name that Tune: ‘‘It’s been a while since the two of us talked, about a week since the day that you walked, knowing things would never be the same, with your empty heart & mine full of pain” Before the Worst, The Script

Movie Quote of the Day: “When you say ‘psychosomatic’ do you mean he can, like, start fires with his thoughts?” Talledega Nights

It’s freezing! I’m sat with my dressing gown on over my clothes (got to save on the heating bills, credit crunch & all that). Apparently it was -10 somewhere in Scotland yesterday. I’m trying to keep myself warm by virtual planning a few mini-breaks away with the kids and the husband later this year around England’s green & pleasants… I might risk a Haven holiday with the kids & I think, en famille, we’ll try the Lakes this year – Bman has never ever been, which for an Englishman surely must be some sort of crime? R & I will be able to give our new walking boots & coats a good airing as we tramp the environs munching Kendal mint cake & bickering about which way it is back to camp.
I have fond memories of weeks away with school in Hostels on Derwentwater, sleeping on orange shiny nylon sheets – the type that if you jumped into bed quick enough in your equally 1970’s/80’s nylon PJ’s made sure of an immediate speedy exit out the other side of the bed or posed potential fire hazard with chaffage from the materials igniting against one another during the night!
I can remember falling off a rock into one of the lakes and having to sit on the coach back to the hostel in saturated cagoule and squeaking waterproof trousers and boots (on loan from an older cousin who had done the same school trip the year before). Ahhh happy childhood days…
Speaking of which. R lost her first tooth yesterday. Quite literally too. It was in place but wobbling in the morning, then after lunch it was AWOL somewhere on the school dining hall floor. I checked her pear core in her lunch bag in case it was stuck in that (I lost my first tooth in a toffee apple as I recall) but no joy. Reassurances were made that the Tooth Fairy would still leave something if she wrote a note explaining the tooth was lost and discreet enquiries were made on a visit to the local shop as to what the going rate was these days for a tooth. I was given conflicting quotes ranging from 50p to an extortionate £5 and both the £1 lady and I, gave the £5 lady a telling off for giving the rest of us a bad name! It was decided that £1 was adequate and R seemed mighty happy with her gold coin under the pillow this morning. Now A is keen for her own teeth to start wobbling so she can get some cash. Let’s hope she doesn’t resort to trying to punch them out herself!

Tooth Fairy Tooth Fairy, give me all your money

Gripe of the day: who do I have to sleep with to get a hard plastic lunchbox these days for under a tenner, rather than those soft ones that go all mouldy after a few months?
Bring back the old Star Wars Yoda case & matching roughneck flask!
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