How hard can it be?

Posting to this blog has been reduced to a once a month scenario, I rue the day I said "I'll write a play how hard can it be?" -the answer is -probably, when you haven't done this sort of thing before that ignorance is neither blissful or helpful. What I see now (in my minds eye - mostly at 3am - when I wake up hyper ventilating with heart palpitations and that swirly swooshy excited feeling of adrenalin rush in the pit of my belly)anyway - being a very visual person I have realised that it has taken me a lot longer than I previously thought to get my mind straight on what this entails. Amazingly we have the most fantastic bunch of volunteers of a ridiculously over qualified experience and a budget - for something that is going to be shown three times at the end of January in the village hall.So a sense of perspective IS required....
We have a musical director and assistant md who between them are professional musicians - and both ex BBC - (I'm not sure what that means other than giving a reassuringly weighty quality to their involvement.) We have the assurances of his partner that the current lighting designer for Scottish Opera is coming off tour this week - lives in Finzean - and is bound to want to help. We have a stage manager who I am informed on his last production had audiences of 600 (Im aiming for about 150 each night) and we have a professional set designer - who despite working freelance on two productions, after her current run and her Christmas run in Birmingham is young enough and fresh enough to think she will have the energy to fit POOT into her weekends. On top of that we have Guy's military background running the production, Jane's Banchory show secretary attention to detail running front of house and Wendy keeping the books in order.
My over whelming fear was that this was all very well but as they all pointed out - we didn't have a script?! -and so now we do-ish -and it's all hanging on IF the good people of the 4 communities turn out in 2 weekends time and fight over parts -some of which have been written with specific individuals and characters in mind - Now I only have to hope they themselves turn up - a few judicious phone calls may be in order before hand. (So if I phone you and start crawling - be a good scout and be prepared.....)

Anyway on the gamekeeping front the hind season has started and Hedge and Finlay's wellies seem to have turned brown with blood splashes as they gralloch away to their hearts content. The boys thoughts have turned to guising -as I force them to call it - Having no truck with trick or treating - which is fine if you live in the land of the star spangled banner - but it's not featuring in in my turnip lantern filled proper seeing off of witchy spirit household...oh the smell of singed turnip and the numerous bent spoons rendered useless by howking a neep....anyway we were talking of dressing up and Archie had the bright idea that he wanted to "you know like those football players, with like the big hockey masks, and like the weapons of mass distruction and like lots of padding and like looking really scarey with like a Freddie Kruger like mask??" (me thinks we are back in the old USA again) when I pointed out that none of the elements of his proposed costume did we actually own - except that I could like maybe turn the mesh food safe into like a sort of fencing mask with a bit of gaffer tape and like a coat hanger.....? he was surprisingly disappointed and dejected, Realism featuring at the lower end of his priorities.... - Fin on the other hand rallied to the suggestion that I get Hedge to tip deer guts over his head to match his wellies and he could go as a "gralloch" - he replied with a glimmer of hopefulness "could I?"....last year when he won first prize when I resurrected mum's old first aid kit crepe bandages and mummified him, it was a doddle - but we need to aim higher if we are to fullfill his helplessly competitive streak. Last year Archie went as Braveheart - cant go wrong with a St Andrews cross painted on your face, your rugby shirt and a kilt. His cardboard sword was soggy on arrival and was swapped by a smaller child's axe of death from W H Smiths -why is plastic SO durable and so much better if it's aproper "bought" sword.. I had been inspired by a Country Living article on pumpkin carving with a scalpel and pin - but made the children promise not to cheat and enter it under their names in the p3 -7 category - all was lost as Hedge dropped it getting out of the car and it smashed to smithereens getting hot wax on his shoes for his trouble due to the fact the boys had insisted they were carried from home with their candles already burning - and due to a tea light shortage in the house - arrived at the hall asphyxiated with the smell of turnip and vanilla beans....Hedge has informed me that as he has his first pheasant shooting driven day the night of the Halloween party - and considering he has taken the boys for the last five consecutive years that he is taking a year off as he wont be finished work in time (what he really means is that he wont have finished drinking beer in the caravan with his beating team come six o'clock) and I will have to accompany my mini gralloch and skater boy myself. The first year we came to Finzean we mis understood the "everyone must dress up" - taking it literally - not thinking it applied only to the children. Hedge arrived wearing a long ginger wig which complimented his beard, a pair of my stripey breeks and a goth t-shirt -he looked like a roadie from a Kiss tour. But our au-pair Marcianna stole the show as the scariest looking witch ever as she spent the afternoon crafting herself a prosthetic nose out of Plasticine that stayed on and after sticking rice crispy warts over her face and painting everything green - she frightened the life out of the boys by sneaking out our front door and charging in the back door squwaking loudly -Archie jumping a full two feet in the air and the three year old Fin dissolving into inconsolable tears -not helped by the fact that she refused to take her nose off to reassure him she was Marcie!!
Hey ho - what happened to a sheet with two holes in it - those were the days.)

Passwords...........

in order to retain some control of my life I am sitting all tucked up and cosy in a big scarf (well it is August after all) in bed, and looking busier than I really am.
Eldest child - now a whole year older is asserting his rights - as those are the only ones that matter. He says that as the child that is 11 and the child that is 8 have up-buggered (his words) the main pc it was very important and outstanding that he check his emails on my laptop - as a matter of national security and testosterone needyness - not nerdyness.
He has spent the whole of the last 3 days with said friend who "might" be urgently trying to make contact with him - so would I just get on with it and hand over the pass word for my lap top. Not bleedin likely.
I have pop -ups down stairs courtesy of shootin and killin and huntin the all 'merican way thanks to Fin's overwhelming desire to virtually kill things when he's not out nurturing them with his father. It must be a boy default setting.

Fergus did the ultimate combined Kevin and Perry mooch into the car/sorry taxi -after Id left a web designing meeting early in order to drive ten miles in the wrong direction to pick he and his friend up. Talking was definitely not on the agenda - his only attempt at conversation being "whats for tea". Defying his dirty looks I tried "chatty and breezy" with his mate. When he told me he didn't mind what he ate - I couldn't resist offering him "worms" - which caused hell boy to do that horsey nasal exhalation of breath reserved for the very most embarrassing of mothers.
The irony IS - that he's really not that bovvered! secretly - I mean he tells me I rank amongst the cooler mothers - who surely cant all be involved with the world's coolest community website - and be on the verge of hanging a £7ooo photographic exhibition - and have a book coming out alongside it. So apart from the worm comment I was quite well behaved I thought - I resisted removing any clothes, mine or theirs, only made passing reference to Jason Statham's totally lickable six pack - and oh those shoulders - i may have in fact mentioned those twice - but Transporter 3 is just his latest excuse to take his shirt off and get fighty in a garage...I digress, anyway there was no yodelling, or even singing and we agreed to silence over ume@6 against Manu Chau. I would NEVER have received a second lift had I not spoken to my mother -and I can vaguely remember quietly seething in a sort of girly way at the "pointlessness" of my mother - so i guess it's normal - and he is a very nice chap most of the time. Except when he reads over my shoulder when I'm typing, so NO YOU CANT HAVE MY PASSWORD. Nice try.

Thelma & Louise's roadtrip without Brad...unfortunately

Have just returned from what one kind friend described as "my latest tree hugging adventure" when she phoned me this morning to see if I was speaking normally again - or still chanting.....

I did have in fact the most marvellous restoring adventure with my sister as we "seized the day" and headed not for the hills, but the sea. Proving Scotland has to be right up their with spectaculor AND conveniant as a holiday destination! Our itinerary began badly with the need to make our first decision 600 yards from her front door as to whether we went, as she put "by the motorway" (an A road) or meandered. In the end as Hedge had unhelpfully removed the map along with the rugby boots and jump leads from the boot of the car -we did both.

Thankfully we had no need for the boots or leads -and because we did a fair bit of surreptitious beach combing the boot looked like an "arty skip" on our return. We headed for The Creative Retreat - an escape from reality in the little seaside settlement of Gardenstown -6 miles from MacDuff - between Banff and Fraserburgh.

The villages claim to fame was it's eight churches to one pub -and a slight air of tumble weed rolling down the one main street that hugs the coast at the foot of a steep cliff. There is barely room for two cars to pass let alone any parking -but we did have a birds eye view along the length of the street from the sitting room window of the lovely simple little house we took. No need for a telly -there was a surprising ammount of to-ing and fro-ing with a marvellous "cast" -especially as we took the oppertunity to make up their script for them....

After arriving (my sister's not much of a map reader) - and not having the most specific directions -go left at the brown shed (which had been painted blue) go down a steep hill, then a steeper one and its the house up the steps next to the pub, red key fits lock....I was confronted with six doors and we had the first moment of a developing theme of helpless incontinent laughter as I tried the key in all six locks........At least the following day when we were the ones with people walking into our house yelling "Is this the right place?" we got a double laugh - especially the third time it happened and I made my sister wait until they came up two flights of stairs into our sitting room to enquire.....We were so busy unhelpfully snorting and giggling we could barely direct the "new comers" that in fact no it wasn't -such was their mortification - imagine heading into someones front room thinking you'd arrived!! they were all identifiable as other artists (so I didnt feel quite so bad) but they had yet to climb up the perpendicular steps on the outside of the house to the studio that was entered from the street above - the houses had a peculiar way of spanning two streets.

On the upside of their being a life class with the most fantastic professional model 50 steps away - I joined the class on the second afternoon and lost myself in a cosy fug of like minded people transporting myself back 25 years to art college - BLISS! and not bad results either.....

meanwhile my sister hugged rocks not trees and got herself as lost as you can in the quaint little streets where every close takes you within 2 inches of the inhabitants living room window, like some weird gallery -but every second house is a holiday home -with notices taped to the panes inviting you to look in and book -we only found ourselves inspecting two dwellings where the owners were living and very tolerant of us gawping.

The beach was brilliant with the most amazing stones - and tiny teeny little round bits of glass the size of cat litter with edges worn as smooth as a pebble. The pockets of our coats soon filled to the point of had we fallen in the water drowning would have been a certainty. Mo, a determined trophy hunter carried an enormous decorative rock all the way home despite my protests that she was pillaging -she ascertained with the greatest of authority that on a beach with a gazillion pebbles - there was plenty for everyone.

Typical Scottish short break weather -it rained, it snowed, it hailed, the sun shone, it was windy -gale force, warm -and freezing cold -all in two days!

The publican informed us that Friday was "Pie night" and to "expect a rush in the street at midnight" -unsure if he was pulling our touristy legs or not we were amazed when the cars started lining up and the scuttling started. Everyone kept disappearing into a wall - so when we went to investigate further and were completely blown away a. from the smell of the baking (whilst again slightly hysterical at the thought that they might be Sweeny Todding the tourists" we tentatively pushed open a plain brown door with no handle to be confronted with every sort of fresh hot pie - 2 for a £1 -in every sort of variety....although no canabills, and damn it the chocolate eclairs were not to be ready for another half hour......

We put the world to rights, talked ourselves to sleep, got caught out with the clocks changing - so didn't go to bed till 3am -laughed until we were sore, cried until we were better and slept like there was no demands on time. The initial purpose of the trip was to drop some pictures to a new gallery that is just re-launching, what we found was a vibrant art's sympathetic (mostly) - except for the local in the pub who thought Id been drawing newts - not nudes......I will most definitely return. Hedge would surely find it to his liking - just "knowing" there was a naked woman reclining in the room above him, plus hot pies and a cold pint within stabbing distance. the problem would still remain as to what to do with the boys....for Ferg there is no mobile phone signal (another wahay!) -the essential communication point that becomes as necessary as breathing for an adolescent. As for Archie and Fin -just too many doors to knock on and run away - too many windows to treat like the telly - they would certainly not have shown their mother and aunt's good manners -I'm quite certain they would have delighted in treating the going's on like a real life episode of Corrie....

We reluctantly trailed home passing a hobo hitch hiking that we decided was not Brad Pitt and therefore we had no need to stop for him - and after visiting Pennan (more beach combing and wet knickers)-and the RSPB reserve at Troup head where we lay for 3 hours watching gannets -I managed to controll my normal aversion to the birders as I saw for once the point of "watching" -I took nearly 200 photographs - please feel very free to decline the invitation if I ever offer to show you the results - I got a bit carried away with them wheeling overhead and took shot after shot of them zooming over. As we flicked through the digital results in the car there was a bird, and another bird, and another, and another -it seemed like a good idea at the time. I took several of my sister at the edge of the cliff instructing her two move to the right a bit.... it was only 150ft sheer drop off the edge -she sat on my legs and promised not to let go as I dangled past the point of safety to photograph nesting kittiwakes and gannets - another reason it was just as well the boys were at home (do as I say not as I madly do)

Only with hindsight did we realise that it was a moment of utter perfect bliss -not another human being in site - no wind, warm sunshine, warm tussocky grass to lie in, sensational views and a spectacular ariel display. Moments like that are hard to come by -confirmed by Hedge when I was describing it to him by "thank god I wasn't there...." I returned to find a clean and cosy house, the fire was on, hoovering was done, and the washing and ironing complete. A roast chicken dinner in the oven and the boys hysterical with relief that I had returned as they all said their father had been a tyrant with the hoover mop and bucket and wouldnt let them move without berrating them for the mess they were making. To be fair they can't acctually move without making a mess, it was so good to see them all again and 12 hours later the house is "back to normal" in a state of small nuclear device exploding in a skip...I was spectacularly grateful as coming home was as welcome as getting shot of them for 3 days had been, and there really is no place like home....well no bed and hugs anyway.......

Dog -gone Boy Blues

Oh how I love to blog.

My children are beyond fathoming - at least I dont have a teenage daughter plus her hormones to stir into the mix.... Menopause for dramatic effect.

Fergus is at RAF camp -he told me 14 of them out of the whole school had been "selected" -He "unselected" to tell me 7 of them were girls....I hope he learns nothing more than howmuch he loves his mother......I haven't heard from him since Sunday - yesterday I went into his room and cried my eyes out, which realy took me by surprise. a. it was tidy...... and b. gave me a minute glimpse of what it's going to feel like when he leaves home for good. His muted smell (ie diluted dolce & gabbana plus four days of the window open) made me miss him all the more, it was an improvement on his eye-watering "STYINK effect that normally precedes him and his bare hugs. On the upside meals are quieter and require less ingredients than a small population of a third world country so I keep over catering at supper time and the biscuits remain in the tins!!

Best of all my computer is nearly always available when I want to use it with fewer annoying downloads and randome music I have never heard of - or paid for.

Archie is not so easy to miss right now. He wont do anything other than "lolling" - Fergus's downfall is eating - Archie's is lolling.-Preferably in front of the TV. I am trying to comfort myself that he might need lolling and a boy needs peace and quiet to grow and ponder and mutate. But his lolling gets up every ones noses as he throws himself dramatically all over the sofa just as he's meant to go to the bus -or bed.He says he likes his bed better than anything - he just wont get in it when I tell him - or out of it when he's required elsewhere. Like school. "Shut-up" and "your Gay" remain the insult of choice.

Finlay it still excelling at junior gamekeeper pet of the family - which continues to be a red rag to the bull of his nearest sibling.....

Hedge is consistently smelling like an old kipper as the heather gets a torching in the name of grouse territory.

I made a presentation about my project today to the hardest audience in the universe - The Teenage brigade at the Academy in Aboyne. I spoke for 20 minutes to a sea of absolutely emotionless, expressionless blank canvasses -and I said any questions? and they all said no? then 2 of the clapped and they all left. I guess they save it all for their own mothers!! Their drama teacher made me laugh afterwards - she said" Thanks very much Mel that was absolutely fascinating - they were all enthralled and they are really interested...." (Thank god I hadn't gone to talk to them about something really exciting - it would have killed them)

We interview for the new head next thursday until then I remain a social pariah -after then - if we appoint -and she's good - it will all be forgotten - if she's no good - or we don't appoint heaven help me!!

I'm lining up next years project - I'm planning on contiuing to promote the arts in the local community by becoming a network promoter for the North East Arts Touring brigade - We hope to to put on touring theatre in Finzean. Should be a laugh, it may not be rocket science -it remains to be seen if it's Shakespeare.

Bee The Border had 4 puppies last Monday, and she's sulking cause she cant leave me babysitting and go with the keeper. However they are utterly adorable and it's NOT often i get sentimental over puppies. In another couple of weeks we will have to persuade the boys that once we have paid for the stud fee (£300) we cant possibly afford to keep one. Hedge says he thinks it's quite good money for a shag - and wonders if there might be a market for him somewhere.

Saturdays. BBC Radio Scotland - go to -Out of Doors programme -podcast is still available to download until this Saturday 21st March. Their gallery also has 3 of my shots Im particularly fond of.Thats the boy home from school so better go and be yummy as I have yet another meeting tonight....lots to do and mushroom stoganoff to make for the tea. It's Fergus's favourite..........

Thought for the day: Go with the flow........

The Cat knows best -95% sleeping -5% left to sleep and chase mice......

I was just going to exalt on the merits of listening to one's gamekeeper when as a ghillie he used to tell me to just go with the flow....and when I was battling with decisions, or erasable children, or recalcitrant dogs, or wayward family, or troubled friends - and his short answer has always pretty much been - don't fight it - go with the flow...and it always USED to irk me that in some way that seemed like giving in, or conceding a point and as a resolutely stubborn person of the highest order - it simply wouldn't do to "give in"....However today I had one of those rare moments of blinding revelation - as with all things the zen the more simple the better. What is harmony if it is not fluid, and peaceful and stripped bare and un-complicated. Although I believed the Dyslexic Institutes mantras of "if he cant learn the way you teach - teach them the way he can learn" whist on the other hand (the leftie corry fisted cack handed way) I didn't really understand what that meant. And because we are creatures of pattern and habit we get into a belief system of its our way or the high way - or in Archie's case - "no way"!! so at this very point in unrepeatable time - this moment of the universe let it be said that by going with the flow - by stopping trying to stop time/pack everything in/always rushing and STILL being late/ worrying about when I could take time to enjoy rather than resent... - give up the responsibility for control - actually going with the flow rather than feeling I'm not waving but drowning, I'm not a little duck gliding along the surface whist maddly waggling beneath -Im not resisting - I'm accepting and I'm going to enjoy the ride - be swept up in events and see them for what they are - never as bad as they might seem, always could be done differently with hindsight - and operating under forces that are beyond my control - that's not to say that I don't take responsibility for my actions - but that if everyone did this and stopped blaming everyone else for their problems then we might achieve greater harmony and that can only be for a higher good. The papers are full of the skating pensioner who has been fined £1500 for breach of the peace - or skating in a built up area -he said he thought everyone thought of him as more of a threat than he actually was! - God I wish I could skate - let alone still be skating at 71 - let alone causing a breach of the peace - excellent - cue virtual Mexican wave of support.
And as I sat poised to type another slewth of minor misdemeanors about the high jinks of my own carnival monkeys I logged on and my eye caught the headline that David Cameron's son Ivan had just died. So instead of suspended realisation of my existence let it be known that I realise what I have and celebrate that instead.

Guns of Navarone! -welcome to my world....

Eyeball's and snowballs

EVERYONE seems to be complaining about the snow - Its the new literal credit crunch -Not me I LOVE IT - there's nothing so important in my life right now that I cant do from the safety of inside my own front door.Despite the fact that the kids are on a 3 day week - and off now until next Thursday when Archie reliably informs me that there will still be snow and the schools will inevitably still be shut. Hedge, who usually thrives on extreme conditions - and is completely and directly in competition with the forecasters -when they say it will rain - he says it will snow -when they say it will snow he says it will rain - or pass us by....Is BORED with it all - it means he wont be ferreting this afternoon and neither will he pot anymore deer before the season closes on Saturday. But Tuesdays predicted snow has fallen this morning and from the bright blue skies of yesterday we have whiteout conditions - the bird feeders are flying perpendicular to the bird table and the "wee flakes" are coming down in horizontal straight lines - that's right - sideways.

Anyway - I'm very happy - apart from my broken tooth that means that I can either wait 5 weeks till my dentist appointment comes around for him to stick a big needle in me - or I could phone him at 8.25am and request an emergency appointment. I phoned yesterday at 9am to be told I was too late - for the emergency appointments of that day had already gone. Apparently you can only have an emergency at 8.20. the rest of the time it is not convenient for the receptionist. I said "what constitutes an emergency?" she said "are you in pain?" I said "I have 3 children and have you met my husband" this did not constitute urgent status apparently. Anyway I thought "emergency" meant lots of blood, but "pain" is apparently the marker here. I was ruminating away about breathing in with my mouth open in a blizzard and the eye watering shoooting needle feeling in my gum, when she told me the dentist wasn't in anyway. I know he reads my facebook - so Alan if you've made it to my Blog - I'm in pain - when can you fit me in between ski runs?

What I was thinking of posting about this morning was, (given the title of my blog, I feel the need to say that I really do not need to make this up)- Hedge and Fin went on a deer mission yesterday, Finlay came back with a collection of antlers that Hedge said, -to give him his due he worked away with a saw the whole morning until he had retrieved all the booty he wanted -(Charming most seven year olds collect football cards). Nobbler antlers are not the handsome and acceptable "face" of trophy display - the type that makes you want to throw your hat up in a James Bondish manoeuvre -more like twisted sticks of that boring sea weed -the only thing that indicates they were once attached to a deer's head is the little dot of marrow at one end. I don't have a problem with these "trophies" - it was however one step too far even for me -when I went to put his washing away and discovered the eye ball nestled in amongst his pants. It's a strange and not particularly nice thing an eyeball. First of all its very cold, slightly slimy and very blue. The realisation of what it was hit me at the same time as I was already committed to holding it in the palm of my hand. It doesn't stare back at you as sci-fi might have it - it's just cold and blue and orbital - Funny how texturally "boney" is not nearly as disgusting and off putting as "squidge". I asked Fin if he had lost anything ....at the same time as Hedge said to him - what did you do with the eyeball.....He was a picture of innocence - I had removed it from it's hiding place as I was (from experience) completely certain that he would forget about it and where as I can cope with my sense of sight and touch being assaulted- I absolutely draw the line at smell. That and the fact that he was planning to put it in Fergus's bed.

On the subject of Fergus and fondly remembering what a cherubic delight he WAS. Im at the same place with him as I am the Spaniel puppy. Bo at 8 weeks was all legs and adoring spaniel eyes, then came teeth - then came spaniel adolescence which is on a parr with adolescent adolescence, except I could still put her outside and lock the door - which is really where I am tempted to go with my eldest air to the throne. The line between "it wasnt me who ate all the biscuits" and "it wasnt my fault it got broken" has been crossed. The trouble with "it wasnt me who........." and "it wasnt my fault I got caught" is the responsibility that teenagers are genetically modified to be without -my problem is then- well who's fault was it? -and does it really matter anyway...... My day always decends into the mire (with eyeballs) when he greet's me with I was called up to the office again.....the reply from me is "what for this time" the reply from him "it wasnt my fault". My question is: does this translate into a man and a life of of taking no responsibility - or is it hormones that put him at the incident scene -he seems to be afflicted with wrong place wrong time-itis. he cant seem to make the leap from -being there- to being involved. We sat him down last night - when honestly I may as well have been talking into a pillow - I was mwa mwa mwaaing - and he was hearing blah blah blah. he woke up at one point when I said "Fergus if a woman was assulted by two men out of the ten in the room - would the other 8 be innocent?" Both he and Hedge by this time were staring at me quite blankly. Ok so it was a bit of a leap to snow balls..... he had only been lifted with 7 other boys -2 of whom were throwing snowballs at someones house. (and of course he didnt do it, it wasnt his fault etc etc) Perhaps I did go abit far to illustrate my point (for the record his fathers contribution wasnt much better -he felt the need to point out that the perpetrators were from Ballater - and in his day it was the just the same -as all the bad boys came from Ballater....... (thank you Cheif sitting Bullshit -Kofi Annan - and YOUR point is?)(at least mine was interesting)He also threw in for pudding that Fug should simply avoid the company of these particular boys. easier said than done me thinks. He is adamant that I will NOT be going up to see his deputy head - (who also sent me a letter home a fortnight ago owing to Fergus once more being in the wrong place/wrong time when the same snowball boy had shouted something unrepeatable at a maths teacher, the deputy head was of the opinion that Ferg had misplaced loyalty....which as it happens I did not agree with.) This in a month that has included a phonecall from his guidance teacher about him signing my name for me (how kind....(it wasnt MY fault))on a red puni and trying to pass his scribble off as mine.....still whilst paying me back for his pre christmas down loading habit, the day after a two hour (one way) argument about trust. (and why didn't I.....?)Ho hum it never snows but it Blizzards.Like Ive said before - this is cheaper than therapy, and a load off my shoulders - thers' something quite comforting about delivering my musings out into the world wide web it certainly puts them into perspective. they are a snowflake in the blizzard of unimportance. Archie mean while is sweetness and light this morning -he was found at the breakfast table stirring his orange juice with an 11" icicle - very cosmopolitan- then I discovered he was storing them in the fridge..... (good mood entirely due to the lackness of scholastic imperative) Always look on the bright side I say, it's 2 more years before he becomes a teenager.....and 6 until Fin crosses the divide. Oh my god that's 16 more years - I could be responsible for the collapse of the web.......................

Mair Sna'

Wee flakes BIG Snaw allright -my mumused to say "a puckle flakins maks a muckle" -which is based on "mony a mickle maks a muckle" -with lovely symetry translates to lots of little things turn into a mountain.
Lots of socks, pants, wellies, over trousers, under trousers, vests, gloves, snow boots, mair socks, hats, hoodies, t-shirts, mair pants.....all wet......all make a stormy soggy path scattered along the prescipice to the washing machine mountain.
Day 1. Plan : Massage with my lovely aromatherapist followed by a creative meeting with someone who has written a song (luckily he IS a musician) for the play and wants to play it for me.....and in return I want to ask him to be the stage manager....Im hoping either he or his wife will (hopefully both) step up. We are slightly thin on practical creatives. Followed by a lovely drive to my picture framers to order the next batch of prints - the sale of which - through 3 galleries are funding my "other work" at the moment.
Day 1 Plan 2:Emergency Measures - are now in place. Massage cancelled as her kids and my kids are rampaging at home. mine in a state of heightened adrenalin rush and snow blindness - it's either that or cabin fever - so it was just as well I draped the mountian of sogs over every available radiator in the house last night - so the have dry rations today. the house smells permanantly of wet dog. hedge;s welly's have a whole micro kingdom on the inside. he's gone off to shoot a deer and left the little darlings with me....If I take the boys to "hear the song" I will then have to contend with Finny's every second question of "Am I in this bit?" - "Can i be in this bit" - "have I got lots of lines yet?" "can I have lots of lines" "Pleeeease!".
At this very moment I can hear them feeding Special K to the Spaniel puppy and I need to go and save some milk formy coffee - will we ever see civilization again.

Fergus at least will be no trouble today. he got up checked the website - found out that 111 schools were shut and has retreated back to his nest. His only request that I buy him a "stud" for his ear to keep the hole he's poked through it with a needle -open. The disgusting piece of inch square nickel plated diamante laden bling he's been wearing has worn thin in three days. i have studiously ignored it - on the grounds that I was expected to over react. When he finally drew my attention to it (and it WAS pretty hard to ignore - ) I told him that he would probably get hepatitis C leading to Aids for sharing some scuzzy girl's nasty ear-ring - acctually I told him he would get HRT and HMV but luckily being dyslexic he didnt seem to notice. Me ? over react? naw, I can't wait for the big tatoo.

It Snows, it rains, its SNOWS and now it rains again...

This morning I am supremely SMUG to say that despite the fact the children were all up and dressed before 8am (it's usually a struggle to get Archie out by twenty five past on the 5th shout and the threat of a hot iron in his lug'gol) I strolled through the most beautifully snowy narnai known to narns. I just suspected that it was not going to last - despite being perfect igloo building material I had a glorious amble and came home to the joyful cavorts of Archie Shand snow boarding upright over the bracken on an up turned sledge. Largely impressive stuff -and I almost went into "thats'ma boy" proudest mummy mode when I realised he was wearing my favourite (and my "best" Boden blue velvet with red spotty lining "smart" coat) As I stood at the wrong side of a pikey wire fence hurling insults and abuse at him he threw a snowball at me.

And it hit me right between the eyes. There's very little that can be said when rage is teetering on the brink of explosion - it was an almost out of body experience - looking outside at my simmering self and critising my own lack of wit/humour/awe at his cheek. Anyway, I had had a lovely walk and have spent the afternoon writing 3 pages of doric shmoric dialogue for my play. its a bit like sherbit - impressive at first pass but imediately fades to nothing at all.

Asking Hedge for some assistance - I said what would you call a "mess"? he said "our house" - No I patiently explained I need a doric word for mess - and do you know how helpful he was? He said. A Mess.

Thanks Hedge. (I now have snorrel, midden, & red-up so that's just fine.) I am still recovering from PMS - Post Miracle Syndrome -but I have the local minister and his fire side reflections to thank for that. Too much staring into the flames has affected his rationality me thinks.

Hey London - look what we've got!!

Today feels like a new beginning. London has fallen apart due to 8" of snow - Hedge was scathing of the effect of a few "snowflakes" when it seems to me to all be a bit worse than that - every bus cancelled, several tube lines shut, Gatwick, Heathrow and City airport closed -one minute it's picture perfect - like a painting seeing the Houses of Parliament with a snowy blanket on -and knowing full well that with all that heat of gazillions of bodies and electricity and energy that within a matter or hours it will be grey and wet and slushy. The boys were convinced that owing to the fact that 450 schools are closed in England - Finzean too would definately be shut..........every working mother's nightmare! -and hurrah we are made of sterner (less snow hysteria stuff) Looking out my office window - my car looks like a christmas cake with one grasped armful of snow removed to make a snowball -and the bird table is groaning with the Woodpecker and the coal tits encrusting the nuts. Theres a wonderful blue grey steely light - but its not dark thanks to the overall snowy frosting.
This time last year it was sleet and gales at 70mph as Hugh Fearnley Whittngsall gamely tried to launch the first cast in the river in order to officially open the salmon fishing - this year it's Clive Anderson's turn -I dont much fancy standing knee deep in lairds in return for stewed tea and a dodgy bacon roll - but as part of my support for the DSFB -I give the layman's perspective -and what Ive recently learned but always known is that there is no such thing as the average anything -that's the cop-out central line - anyway I'm inclined to go. But in so far as crativity and snow on the line there is no avoiding the inevitable....this is the first day of my latest career - today is the day that I can no longer avoid - Let the Play commence - A Portrait of Our Time. i feel like a gladiator! The fact is I might have been a bit hasty and more than a little naive to say - I can write a play - how hard can that be - this will inevitably haunt me from now till september -however it's not SO long in the big plan of things - and really in my more optimistic moments - How Hard Can It Be?....Ive completed the tax return, Ive renewed the car insurance - perhaps I can delay this mornings commencement with the on-lineTesco delivery order and I need to phone the plumber to remind him that he's taking the piss......July 08 was when I first brought to his attention that the newly installed bathroom had a dodgy componeant....and started telling him the loo seat was wobbly and not long for this world after only a month of Shand men leverage. Now that it has finally sheared off it's like having an elephant trap in the bathroom - so far no casualties except Fin's wee friend Sophie who was nearly swallowed by the porcelain as I shouted "watch out for the loo seat" it's only there for show and "too late" preceding a small yelp. A precarious balancing act when sitting down is required. Rather like starting to write a play......So this morning - to the river, to the hoover and to work. My day will not be ruined by NOT getting to work due to snow on the road - as long as it's not water on the brain, I will procrastinate no more....How hard can that be again??

Now the pheasants are over it must be time for a rest.....

A Plague of Rats.

I am having a plague of rats. Or rather Im being plagued by rats every where I turn. Or rather Im being plagued about rats. PLague or no plague - and they brought the plague didnt they - that's rats for you.I can quite see how it happened.
Archie has a friend who is selling two pet rats. I say - "there's no such thing as a pet rat". (They have nasty hairy whippy scaley tails and mean little eyes and are only one up from the bottom of the worst pet option from snakes.) Except that you can feed rats to snakes. But we are definately not going there either.
Every night I am subjected to the rat on-slaught when Im least expecting it (in the bath - whilst on the loo- when taking a splinter out of the game keepers leather like thumbs - talk about buffulo hide I had to use a screw driver and a monkey wrench and that was just to pierce the skin) However the rat story always begins with "Mum, you know Ive been good...or you know when I picked up my school clothes off the floor yesterday (after the 10th ask)so mum can I have Liam's rats? -rapidly followed by - "I'll pay for them myself, I'll buy them and clean them out, and pick up their poo, (this is sounding rather familiar to the pony story and all the poo that that entailed)However I am near certain their is no market for organic rat poop for the garden at £2/bag. and even if there is Im still not going there!
Anyway these rats (shudder) are tame (apperently) only Liam is selling them as one of them accidentally bit him.....(they sound really tame) well apperently he might have forgotten to feed them a few times....(oh my god - starved and untame and whippy and bity with mean little eyes) so like they make really great pets, Liam said so....and I'd keep them in my bedroom (which is next door to mine - so thats another reason that no is the answer)I said Archie rats are nocturnal -no there not - well not Liam's rats his dad puts them in the shed at night....Yes thats so you cant hear their infernal scratching and burrowing as they gnaw through ropes on the trap door - and so you dont notice when they go moonlighting in acting parts in scarey movies.....with their whippy tails. SO like please can I have them.No. Please.No.Please (cue a storming out and a door slam or two) then another please and several more no's -and the lecture about when does NO ever turn into a Yes - and
another warning for whining. Well if I dont whine can I get them??? Its not Get its Please may I have....well please may I have them. No. Why not. Because they are nasty...no their not - Yes they are they bit Liam - well he forgot to feed them....So that is plague number one. and Plague number two is apperently living in our shed. These rats too are as virtual as plague one but have been invented by Finlay so he dosent have to go and fill the coal bucket. They ammount of rat time that Archie has taken up over the last few days seem to add up to a whole herd of rats, which as a result of their current popularity have made the leap to reality and a very real excuse for Fin - who will happily fetch coal if you stand and watch - or go with him, or explain 1000times that just because it's dark it dosent mean a 6ft rat has suddenly materialised on top of the coal pile. A 6ft rat -imagine the size of his tail......

avoidance, a cure for distress............

January is blowing past - quite literally as we had super-mendous 90 mile an hour gales that had the glass positively rattling in the window panes last night. I've been avoiding blogging for various reasons - mostly hormonal, but not all my hormones. Also been reading a book by someone called Neil something titled "Enough" - which is food for thought and making me want to retreat further into a burrow and hole up for the duration - however the sun shone briefly yesterday, as I humoured customers at the Farmer's Market - the lady that asked why she couldn't buy pheasants all year round....."well because they are seasonal" I told her, "Which season?" she asked..... I hate it when people talk to you like your trying to rip them off or trick them into something dodgy - it's only meat for goodness sake, an organic, lean and healthy - with tiny "food miles" into the bargain.I pointed out to one couple that the venison which we produce has only 30 food miles - going from larder to Sheridan's in Ballater for butchering and back again, to which he asked if that included the extra 10miles from the farm shop to the Banchory Farmer's market, I was tempted to ask if him if he'd be having Kenyan green beans with his casserole..... I'm ranting aren't I.
Food miles is one thing, kid miles quite another. I expect Finlay will require to lie down in a darkened room this week after his weekend of excesses. Thursday night - laser quazer birthday party -Friday an evening on the wii with his favourite babysitter -Saturday a full days beating at his favourite other game keepers shoot - Sat night unexpected sleep over at best mate (who never does sleep over's, but due to another local child's birthday party and his elder brother out of the house - left his mother without 2 of her children - who - poor thing - felt the need to fill up the bed space) I on the other hand - whilst thinking that maybe Finny could do with a rest found the thought of NOT having to struggle to get him into bed yet again -too tempting and packed him and his toothbrush off quicker than you could say "early night" -and finally, he was swooped up at 9.30 for his first visit to Pittodrie stadium - with another friend's grandpa - including the corporation bus (half price for OAP's) and the promise of a half time pie. (The origin of THOSE pies I'd really rather not know - given that the contents are grey, then brown - if you put enough HP on - and the grounds and burger van are situated right next door to the cat and dog home.....dog burgers....gross - but still lower on food miles.)Anyway - expecting tantrums on his return so now doubt will be rewarded with amazing visionary powers once again - might try putting the clocks forward 10 weeks early.
Yesterday morning's epic struggle to kit out and get out 5 individuals of different shapes and sizes to various disciplines - where 4 of them seem incapable of starting a sentence with anything other than "has anyone seen my......." Fergus was working in the farm shop - "has anyone seen my superman t-shirt" Fin & Hedge were beating "has anyone seen my boots, coat, waterproofs, packed lunch, shooting stick, dog whistle, flask, balaclava, gloves, dog x 4, loo roll, father," (yes really, Finlay asked that question....) Archie was playing rugby and managed to find his shorts and shirt,but the dreaded "gum shield, water bottle, spare studs and worst of all "OTHER rugby boot". We could find only one. 5 other rugby boots made their appearances, with and without their partners, but the necessary size 5 little bastard remained elusive. I blame the dog, she likes to take them outside - especially when it snows. Having become near hysterical and I left asking no-one where my brain, gloves, warm boots, purse, check list, meat, honey, game, chiller, till and float were -to find that "someone else" had taken out the plastic bags - so had to ask the bacon man on the next stall if I could borrow some of his!! I left chaos and boys at 7.45am and came back to chaos but no boys at 3. I then required an hours kip and woke freezing and got into trouble from the keeper for letting the fire go out. having then remembered to buy birthday card and present for 2nd party of the week, fill the car with petrol, remove the after 8 from the back seat, take rugby boots out of the bath, load the washing machine twice, check my emails, and reply -write a press release for the Poot (Portrait of Our Time) AND walk the remaining dogs - one that rakes, one that is past beating but not beyond shagging anything with a pulse, and the cairn who is in season - so marks a path all the way round our circuit that leads the adjoining farmers bloody collie to haunt our back door.....Infact there was the most wonderful dust up last week when 2 labradors, a scottie, a spaniel, the cairn, and the cocker set to with the collie, in the fragrant space that is our back door - 8ft square and smelling of cat pee - with a leaky plastic roof. It was like one of those cartoons in Tom & Jerry when there's a cloud and all you see is a tail and a tooth and a blur of barking and snarling.The cats - positioned on the shoe rack above the cacophony remained aloof and aloft with their paws and tails tucked in. Ive lost my thread now - which is probably just as well as I feel like Im unravelling - and I was probably only complaining anyhow.
I heard the best cat story for ages this week -a friend with 2 hunting mogs - the type that bring home their catches were alerted to the fact that one of their moggies was home by a loud rattling of the cat flap - not just the normal quiet swish. On investigating they found the cat - complete with mouse - still attached in somebody else's mouse trap. I rather fancy the idea that the cat had brought it in with an indignant "How do you open this bloody new fangled packaging"......
My third load of washing for the day has just completed - that will be all the rugby kit (except the size 5 boot)(and never tell a boy to put his kit in the machine as I Have found 2 pairs of boots, a gum shield, a psp game and a bottle of ribena - all still in a kit bag -generally don't like a hot wash) but anyway ready for the whole thing to start all over again next week......worst of all my Blog means that I have spent more time avoiding my tax return.Bummer.....procrastinate I shall no more.

GAP disclaimer -it's a dog's life

Further to yesterdays rant I feel duty bound to inform the world that I actually refrained from swearing at the useless Louise/non super-visor -I decided on the spur of the moment to say not one word more (or it would have been an expletive squared) and that it would be simply so much more satisfying to do my best "flounce". It felt completely alien NOT to say thakyou even sarcastically, thankfully I also managed NOT to trip over anything as I left the shop - and made my way to the door despite the steam leaving my ears. As I perambulated up Union Street muttering only a little bit, I reminded myself of my Reiki principles and best intentions.....Good Karma, you get what you deserve - which surely means the size 5 boots were not meant for Archie's size 5.5 feet.....

F-R-U-S-T-ration

Today - another self fulfilling prophecy which just goes to show "be careful what you wish for". On the last day of the holidays we took the boys shopping at the sales. Archie fell in love with a pair of boots in Gap (which DOES NOT stand for "Gay and Proud" thank you Fergus) Despite thinking that the said boots were almost too small -I was fairly certain he was curling his toes up inside them as I probed around trying to feel how mashed they were -but he was PLEADING and he has been wearing snow boots come hail or snow almost entirely for the month of December (since I forbade him from wearing canary yellow crocs to school OR with socks) (how many fashion faux pas can one boy achieve).....anyway - they were perfect "boy boots" by which I mean could be kicked off and scuffed on -elasticated sides -brown - plain -chelsea boots - ten quid. Who could say no. So I took them and a pile of £2.99 t-shirts (trying not to think of my social conscience and the chillean children labouring in a sweat shop for that price) and handed them over to a sweet studently girl at the counter. We then had a pleasant enough conversation which started with her admiring my rather fine fingerless gloves and ending with the silly air headed student piece of fluff NOT putting the boots in the bag.....which I didnt discover until I had negotiated the crowds and the car park and got ALL the way home....cue one disappointed little face (mine) and a phonecall that surprisingly quickly got a bit out of hand. Now in my advancing years I have taken great pains to throw off my "hot head over reactionary reputation" So the conversation went something like "Hello, I bought a pair of brown boots in the childrens department today and when I got home I discovered that they had not been put in my bag, could you post them to me?" GAP "Oh,no we cant post them, but I have them right here you can collect them tomorrow" -Me "Well actually that is not very convenient as I live 30 miles out of town and was not planning on coming in for at least another week -Do you want the reference number for the boots off my receipt " GAP - "Oh - well I suppose I could keep them for you for one week" Me - "Well thank you for that, but in my experience this sort of thing is likely to go wrong -so what happens if they go missing as my son is desperately keen on the boots" GAP "they wont go missing" Me "But what if they do...." GAP "Look, Ive said I will keep them for you so I will" Me - "Yes, but the girl who I paid said she would put everything in a bag for me - and she didn't" GAP "Look, do you have a problem? Ive said I was sorry" Me "Did you?, I hadnt noticed, in my long experience with dealing with Gap - sometimes you screw up and I just want to know how we can make sure I get the boots, I know you are very busy and have lots of students working for you....." GAP (interrupting me and a voice loaded with vitriol)"Excuse me are you saying you have a problem with students now?" Me "well actually this is getting us no where and we are both getting a bit exasperated - can I speak to a supervisor please" (wait for it)GAP "I am the supervisor" ME " ok can I take your name and your personal assurance that nothing will go wrong and I can pick up the boots by the end of the day on Wednesday 7th January" GAP (not-so-Super-visor)"Yes". Me "Well can I have your name please?" GAP "It's Louise" ME "Louise what?" GAP "Louise the supervisor, now Ive given you my name Im not giving you anything else" (well clearly)And so it came to pass that I dragged my weary ass back in to Aberdeen, and the crowds and the car parking today and got to GAP and guess what......First (in the very faint hope that all might be well and I could avoid Louise with no second name)I asked an assistant if she knew anything about a pair of brown boots that were being reserved in the name of Shand (probably labelled "For a Bitch")she was all perky and said she thought they were in the office. Sadly this is not a tale of a happy ending as of course they were a pair of girls boots - and despite Archie's liberal leanings I didnt think he would have lent quite so far....so I asked for Louse and I said "Hello, I had been hoping to avoid this conversation, but do you remember I phoned about some brown boys boots and you said you would keep them for me and their would be no mistake, well their is....like I said there would be...." And do you know what she said? She said "OH,YOU never said they were BOYS boots, and we dont have any others" "and I said "no of course you dont you stupid fucking dimwit gap fucker....." or no words to that effect. GAP -Gargantuan Asshole Pisspots. Still no boots, but feel better for sharing.