That's entertainment

So here's a quiz question for you: what do you do if it's cold and wet and miserable outside?
Answer: if you're me, you do this:

If you're a small boy, you hunker down on the sofa in front of a film and do this:

And if you're a suitably-sized girl, you watch all the lovely warm clothes being unloaded from the tumble drier into the washing basket, and then you do this:

Ingenious! x

PS - I nearly forgot to say - I've just bought a bike!  Eeeek.  I like to think I'm being healthy and more green, and I have visions of me wafting dreamily down the road to my allotment and filling my wicker basket with homegrown goodness for my family; the cynical amongst you (and those that actually know me) might think it's so that I can escape to my plot on a summer's evening and drink wine sitting in the sun next to my shed, but that thought would never enter my head, honest...

Pants: the revenge

Apologies for the slight disappearing act - I've been hidden under a pile of 'big guwl pants'.  My very grown-up two-year-old has decided that she doesn't want to wear nappies any more, she wants to wear big girl's pants.  Fairenoughski, you might say, but the only drawback is that she doesn't actually have a clue about the whole 'wee in the potty, not your trousers' business and so, after five hundred changes of clothes, two miraculous wees on target and one poo that prompted the comment 'look mummy, it's like a snake!  I made a wiggly worm' we gave up on knickers and have reverted to good old nappies.  Much of the past couple of days has been spent in the following way: daughter strips completely (why??), sits on the potty, gets up after two nanoseconds, tells me she's done a wee, I look, tell her that no, she hasn't done a wee, she sits down again, gets up after two nanoseconds, tells me she's done a wee, I look, tell her that no, she hasn't done a wee, she sits down, gets up again after....  You get the idea.  When we actually ran out of clean trousers to put her in, we put a hold on baby-led potty training.
In between bouts of toilet-related fun, I've been trying (and mostly failing) to get some time in at the allotment between downpours.  Everything seems to be going berserk at the moment - everything needs planting/pricking out/staking/weeding (lordy, the weeds are sprouting like mad) all at once, and it's been rather tricksy to get anything actually done because it's been so blooming wet!  My assistant didn't mind the rain though:

All great fun, until she splashed a bit over-enthusiastically and got mud in her wellies.  Then we had to go home.
I've also been experiencing a bit of crochet-fest lately.  The squares for my all star blanket are piling up nicely:

I also felt the need to make some granny squares (or 'stash-busters' as I like to call them):

I've made twelve of these now and am currently joining them to make the front of a cushion.  I'm thinking of backing it in some lovely brushed cotton that I've got, but I'm a bit puzzled about how to join fabric and crochet - does anyone have any suggestions?
And finally, the boys wanted me to photograph this for you all to look at:

It's a good job I took this photo when I did - a split second after I took it middle aka 'Captain Clumsy' knocked the table and all the soldiers fell over, prompting the sort of heated discussion that only two brothers can have.  (Gaaaah - is it me, or do all brothers argue all the time?  Please say that it's normal, or I might have to take myself off to my bedroom for a weep).
And then, because I'd taken a picture of the boys' toys, baby (who I really feel needs to be re-christened.  I'm thinking Foghorn Lil might be a good name, but maybe I'll just call her 'small') wanted me to take a photo of what she was playing with:

So there you have it - life in my neck of the woods.
I just wanted to say thank you so much for your comments on my last post and to my new followers and I'm sorry I haven't had much of a chance to get round to replying or visiting you - I'm planning a bit of a blog-blitz tomorrow to rectify that, but in the meantime, thank you so much for visiting me - it's so brilliant to know that you're all out there! x

We ♥ Turkey

Ah, maaaaaan, we had the BEST time ever on our hols and we're all feeling a little bit glum and like we're drowning under a big mound of dirty clothes and mysteriously-appearing sand (how does it find its way into so many places?)
I've just come across this photo whilst looking through my holiday pics:

and the only thing I can think is: 'how can something that so closely resembles a bowl of sheep poo be so alluring to small children just because you call it breakfast?'
And look at these two little puddings - I tell you, forget cereal that looks like animal doppings, this is what I call irresistible:

Singing 'twinkle, twinkle' on the back balcony.

I love this photo of my boys, but it also makes me feel a bit sad because they look so big and grown up and I can just see from this what they will be like when they are adults.  Am I alone in wanting to pickle my children to keep them small forever?  Are they still as cute when they're thirty (I'm absolutely certain that they won't be as cute when they're teenagers, that's for sure.  I remember what I was like when I was a teenager and the thought of the shoe being on the other foot, fills me with cold dread.)

I'm not going to bore you by going on about how amazing the food was, how friendly and kind the people were, how stunning the scenery was or how gorgeous the weather was, but suffice to say if someone came up with a viable way that I could live in Turkey and earn enough to make a living, I'd be on that plane before you could blink.  I know there are people in Turkey who read my blog and I just want to say a big 'hello' and think of me sitting in the cold and damp as you're drinking your Turkish tea in the sun.  (Sob).

Ooooh, hark at me, getting all maudlin (now there's a word).  Mr N and I have spent much of the time since we returned fantasising about buying a five-berth camper van and spending the six week summer hols driving down through Europe to Turkey (there are perks to being married to a teacher...)  We recently inherited a bit of money from Mr N's grandma and, paralysed by indecision about what to do with it, we've just left it in the bank and not really done anything with it.  My sensible head says that we should do something about our compact living arrangements with it, but my wandering heart keeps reminding me how much I love to travel, and how we always swore we'd continue travelling after we had kids, and how really there is no better time than now, while the kids are small and I've got lovely, flexible working arrangements.  Watch this space...

A little, smiley thing for you before I go: the other day, baby n and I were having a chat (crikey, that girl can talk; sometimes I feel like lying my forehead on the table and sobbing, just for a moment's peace) and she looked at me very earnestly and said 'mummy.  Cats say meaow and hippos say hip, hip, hooray' x