Dunno what I've been up to all this time. Seems like about a year since I've switched on the damned 'puter. Don't know what I've got to show for all my busy-ness. But I'll think of something. When the kids haven't just put 'The Middle' on telly. Maybe I'll just have a peek at my diary, except that my pen ran out the other night and... oh yeah I think I kind of got stuck on last Sunday. Or maybe it was the Sunday before that. Either way..... But I had cyber-scribbled a little list of 'things' that must have meant something. It went kind of like... plums, spiders, toes, sewing box, mooncup, Match Attax, Essex and it rounded off with a question: Why are all my favourite songs about murdering your lover?
These little insights into my own brain are not enlightening.
I'm off again. Got to put tealights into horrifically mutilated pumpkins. Oh yeah - we did pumpkins! I remembered something! I also made pumpkin soup. It was OK. Not as good as my friend's pumpkin soup that she even brought on our last nature walk thing of the year (god was that only yesterday?) - in a big pot, with lots of cups for everyone, carefully wheeled about in a pushchair all day til we found a suitable lunch log. That's pumpkin soup dedication. And the chap who does all the knowledgeable talky stuff's dog did all the washing up too. I have to do my own washing up. And fish out slimy seeds to put in pots to grow our own next year (yeah.... I'll SO do that). (Really ought to fish out slimy fish from a totally opaque bowl. Yeah.... ) 4-way pumpkin scraping and scooping and souping and slurping is enough slime for one day. And 4 mini ones to make into lanterns for garden sweetie hunting tomorrow night too. What am I like? I swallow all this 'traditional' stuff whole. We never did pumpkins when I was a kid. I never tasted a pumpkin til I was prob in my 30s. I did make a spider out of pipe cleaners and a cotton reel once 'cos I saw it on Play School. I scampered into the lounge that afternoon with boinging it on a bit of elastic shouting 'Bouncy bouncy weeee!' to find a priest standing there with his arms raised blessing the house. Something to do with the then fashion of having a mass said in the warmth of the parishioners' houses. Thankfully this phase didn't last long. I know my mum was probably bullied into it somehow - really not her cup of tea that sort of thing. Way too sociable. But she did have a soft spot for this old boy (the priest man). Thinking back I reckon he was the only one of That Lot Up The Road who remained sober for very long. There always seemed to be a trail of staggering men in black. Very often from our house. What was I talking about? Plums, spiders..... Don't recall anything about drunk god botherers. Oh - Halloween memories it was. Think it's time to go. I'll try to have a think about something more coherent while I'm extinguishing the fire I'm about to start over on Mantlepiece No 2.
Coming darling.... Oh actually I think we've got the same problem as Birthday Season. I wonder if Minx has started smoking yet.
Got any matches?
Why not? You're 11 already!