Late Night Caching In Vegas

 

Back in March 2012 I was visiting Las Vegas with some girlfriends and we certainly saw plenty of sights.  However there was sight that I did not see: the Bellagio Fountains from the top of the Eiffel Tower.

"So what?" I hear you ask.
Well, the thing was, I needed to photograph the fountains from the top of the Eiffel Tower in order to claim another of the virtual geocaches in the city.   Jacqui agreed to keep me company after our visit to see Penn & Teller (awesome show ... truly magical, highly recommended), while the rest of our group took a separate taxi back to the hotel.

Late night traffic was heavy and it was a slow drive to the Paris Hotel but there was no queue at the ticket desk to ascend the tower lift.  A cheesy souvenir photographer delayed our arrival at the base of the tower where there was a short wait for the tiny lift, guarded by a wonderfully knowledgeable pensioner in red jacket with gold epaulettes.  Only she would not let us into the lift!  No!  Some "priority" guests came up a private stair-case and were allowed to go first!  Right in front of us!

We Brits know how to queue; we delight in queueing; we don't like queue jumpers! However we Brits aren't that great at complaining, so we just stood there and rolled our eyes.  That'll teach 'em!!

We finally squashed into the lift and made our way towards the top.  We caught glimpses of the illuminated  fountains through the girders when suddenly we heard loud bangs ... gunshots? ... cannons? ... fireworks?  Our lift operator cheerfully informed us that this signalled the last fountain show of the evening, it now being midnight!  What?  How could that be?  Midnight isn't late?

We had a wonderful view of the fountains, duly photographed to claim the geocache, but they weren't actually spraying any water!!!

My page is based on this month's sketch over at Sketchbook365 and the remnants of my November Counterfeit Kit match the colours from UKScrappers' Simple Recipes challenge this month.

Coming Home To Something Yummy

Just over a week ago I blogged about something yummy to come home to as part of Jennifer's Frosty Festivities weekend event:  mini mincemeat muffins with a link to the Debbie Nicholas' recipe on Country Heart & Home.

Well Debbie has been in touch and is offering me a signed copy of her book "Gifts From Your Kitchen" (containing her "Christmas Muffins" and many other kitchen treats) to give away on my blog.
If you would like a chance to win, please let me know in the comments below before midnight on Saturday 8th.  I'm happy to post worldwide :o) Giveaway now closed.


While you're here you might like to see something else that my kids came home to ... back in 2004.  We were holidaying in Florida at Easter time and had a fortnight filled with theme parks, swimming and sight-seeing (with a little bit of craft shopping too).  On Easter Sunday we got up early to visit Typhoon Lagoon as we hoped a water park would be quieter than the theme parks were likely to be.  We had a lovely few hours there but eventually the crowds and the heat got too much and we decided to go back to our villa to cool off.  The children were amazed to find that the Easter Bunny had been to visit while we were out, hiding our plastic eggs (secretly brought with us from the UK) all over the house and keeping the treats inside the eggs nice and cool thanks to the air-conditioning!

The third challenge over at the Counterfeit Kit Challenge Blog was to scrap a  tradition and these plastic eggs have been making an appearance chez nous every Easter for ... about 15 years!

The children have two egg colours each to hunt for ... pink and purple for Child No.3 obviously ... and sometimes the eggs contain clues to something yummy that is just too big to fit inside!  All good fun :o)

I've used more of my November Counterfeit Kit along with one of the sketches supplied for the UKScrappers weekly challenge.  The grey chevrons have been cut from a border made with my MS Garden Trellis punch.

This month's Sunday Story theme over at High In The Sky is "Coming Home" ... pop over to see how others have interpreted it and share a story of your own on that or, indeed, any topic.

I Was A Mummy ...

As children we don't always think about our parents as real people - they provide & protect, comfort & cajole. Their lives surely revolve around us: we are the centre of their world :o)

Eventually as we get older, realisation dawns that our parents were alive. Just like us, they studied, travelled and partied; they were not always so staid, so stay-at-home; they might even have a tale or two to tell.

Those two paragraphs are written on one side of a tag on this page in my Book Of Me - an 11.5"x8" album that contains pages about me and my past.  On the other side of the tag is one such tale, about my fancy dress exploits in Sweden, prompted by the photos which recently surfaced on Facebook!

Drinking in Swedish pubs was shockingly expensive so it was perfectly normal to have a few liquor-store-bought drinks at home with friends before hitting the town. The prices encouraged us to host and attend parties most weekends and these were often themed to spice them up. Here we are, a mix of Brits and Swedes in the lads' house in Bjurhovda in 1982. I can remember thinking that Karin's carrot outfit (an orange sheet and a plastic fern) was simply inspired, whereas my bandages kept slipping and gradually revealed more and more as the night progressed!
Fun times :o)

The photos and story were committed to paper (made with the remains of my October Counterfeit Kit) thanks to inspiration from the UKScrappers Cybercrop - just about finished now - though there are some "use your left-overs" classes to come today.  And this post is part of  Siân's Storytelling Sundays - there will be lots more Sunday stories here (all comers welcome)!

Blue, I Love You #2

If you're looking for my Counterfeit Kit for October you need to go to the next post here - or you could stay a while and read my story for the first Sunday of October - part of Siân's Storytelling Sundays - why not join in yourself?  Everyone is welcome to tell a tale.

Now I was going to tell a tale of dressing up as per Siân's prompt ... but then I was working on my counterfeiting and a song started playing in my head.  A song that I've listened to again and again during the last 14,978 days.  A song that was the title track of the very first album I owned.  On cassette.  For my brand new tape player.  A song that I made into a layout last year.

Lots of Tagxedo use with the lyrics!

Thank you, big brother, for giving me such enduring listening pleasure for my birthday all that time ago.

And here it is for YOU to listen to - enjoy!

P.S. Come back next month to see me in Fancy Dress!!!
P.P.S.  Now go over to Siân's for some proper Fancy Storytelling

Signs Of Sixth Form

A very short Sunday Story (on a Tuesday) from me - as Child No.3 starts Sixth Form.  She's stayed put at her (all girls) school where they treat the Sixth Formers as a separate "college" and there may even be boys from the equivalent boys' school college in some lessons.  Although the boys still have to wear uniforms, the girls do not.  The girls are allowed other liberties too; for example they no longer have to keep to "natural" hair colours and then there are their nails:

I might have known Child No.3 would get out her nail art pens and do something creative for her first day!

Want more school-related stories?  Or school-un-related stories? Check out the rest at From High In The Sky

Mastering Chemistry

Welcome to my latest Sunday Story.  This one had a beginning back in October 2008, a middle in between and its finale just a few weeks ago - on Friday 13th.  Unlucky for some.  Not, however for No.1 Son (though he will deny that there was any luck involved and insist that it was all down to his hard work)

It all started somewhat inauspiciously when his A-level grades meant that he did not get into his first choice of university.  Thankfully he was accepted by his second choice and he started partying studying hard, learning his way around the bars of Newcastle Chemistry labs and making loads of new friends.
In order to maximise his future job prospects, No.1 Son had chosen a course with an extra year in industry and had to start applying for a work placement at the beginning of his 2nd year.  Trouble was, Britain's industries were struggling ... our economic downturn meant that companies were offering fewer placements and only the very top students managed to get fixed up.  So, along with all but six of his cohort, No.1 Son had to convert his course back to a standard degree.
He loved student life studying in Newcastle and didn't relish leaving yet, so he missed a few parties upped his grades to allow him to add a research year to his degree.  That final year was oh so hard ... No.1 Son even postponed his 21st birthday celebrations because it fell during the run up to some exams.  His missed parties hard work paid off though and on Friday 13th we watched our clever, clever boy receive his Masters in Chemistry

The rain held off long enough for us to take lots of photos before and after the ceremony.  It was wonderful to see No.1 Son with such a lovely bunch of friends from his course, some of whom were house-mates, lab partners, study buddies and one, who is, currently, significantly more :o)

This page was made with my July Counterfeit Kit and utilises a lot of machine stitching ... I love stitching on my pages ... and I'm playing along with Clair's stitchery class here.  It's FREE!  Why not join me?

You can also join in with Sunday Storytelling, either by reading more stories here or telling one yourself and linking it over at High In The Sky.

Chelonian Chit-Chat

Welcome to the second half of 2012 - the first Sunday in the seventh month - which means it must be time for a story of sorts.

A story without a proper photograph; from long before I scrapbooked and took careful photos to illustrate our memories; from a time when snaps were just that - snapped fragments of a summer afternoon, with too much physical background, sometimes blurring, even obscuring, the point of the photograph!

I went to my monthly crop yesterday and enjoyed myself immensely: good company, "me" time, yummy cakes, free stash ... my friend Ally had had a clear out and was offloading unwanted papers ... some of which were just perfect for a cute little photo (heavily cropped to get rid of that excess of physical background) of two toddlers chatting together by the garden fence.

{This page was actually done with a challenge in mind: ATDML asked us to scraplift their DT,
I chose Karen's page here, but life has got in the way and I missed the uploading deadline *sigh*}

These two little tots were actually chatting about "Timmy" the tortoise just the other side of the fence.  You can't see him though - but I know he was there.  Furthermore we don't have any photos of him - he was a pet at their grandfather's for over 30 years - just part of the (garden) furniture!  Timmy had travelled from Spain to the UK with my father's young family.  He was available for feeding with lettuce, cucumber and dog food (!) every  summer visit; somethingone to hunt for whenever he escaped; an exciting box to unpack from the attic during mild Easter holidays ... both for my (half-)siblings and I and latterly our own children.  But of course, this story is being told in the past tense: a couple of years ago Timmy did not come out of his attic box as usual.  It wasn't too cold for him.  It was simply time. Although Timmy never seemed to make it to centre stage in any of my photos, we'll miss him.

Have you got a tale to tell?  Why not pop over to High In The Sky and share it so that the rest of the Sunday Storytellers can come and read.

Sunday Jubilations

Welcome to another Sunday Story (part of Siân's Storytelling Sundays).  This weekend the UK is celebrating 60 years on the throne for Queen Elizabeth which got me thinking about our celebrations ten years ago.  We closed off the centre of our housing estate, bought balloons and bunting, borrowed tables and chairs, hired a bouncy castle, baked cakes, organised games and dressed in patriotic colours and had a simply brilliant time ... until the hail storm!!!

No.2 Son under our table - more waterproof than the parasol!

We Brits rely on our weather being unreliable, so we  found shelter where we could and waited for the clouds to pass.

Child No.3 had a ball!

I've scrapped a selection of our Golden Jubilee photos over at Julie's blog as part of her continuing exploration of the alphabet - I did "J" for Jubilee & Union Jack.  Unfortunately there won't be an equivalent Diamond Jubilee page; nobody made the first move to put together a local street party committee; perhaps it's because the majority of children on our estate are all 10 years older and no longer interested in flag waving and sack races; perhaps those of us that helped last time felt someone else should take a turn?  We'll have to make do with the general village celebrations ... let's hope the weather is kinder this time!

Are you celebrating? Do you have a story to tell?  Why not share it with Siân?

Piggy Tales

I really enjoyed last every month's Sunday Storytelling over at High In The Sky - some of the tales are sad, others funny - but I really love the ones that spark my own memories. When that happens I immediately start preparing a tale of my own to share later in the year. Siân had a story about two beloved teddies at the beginning of March which got me thinking about No.1 Son's favourite toy: a pink pig called, appropriately enough, "Piggy".

Now this Piggy was little, perfect for chubby hands, with a curly tail and soft pink fur. Piggy went everywhere with No.1 Son and kept him safe at night; he was so well loved that he was soon rather more grey than pink. After about a year, Piggy came with us on our first family holiday - to Majorca, one of the Balearic Islands off the coast of Spain. Piggy stayed in our apartment when we went to the pool or the beach, but listened closely to the bedtime stories at nap time and at night. One day we hired a car to do a little tour of the island and Piggy was invited along too so that he wouldn't feel lonely at nap time! We had a lovely drive around the west coastal roads and stopped for photos of poppy fields and olive groves and lemon trees on the way home.

The freshest lemons I've ever seen!

Finally we returned to the apartment and struggled up several flights of stairs with a sleepy toddler, the picnic basket, the blankets ... but ... no Piggy!
Piggy was gone!!
Not in the car, not on the stairs, not in any of the bags ... nowhere!!! Tiredness soon turned to tears and No.1 Son was inconsolable.

Being relatively new parents with nothing better to do than indulge our 15 month old, Hubby got right back in that car and retraced our journey half-way round the island, reaching the poppy field and the lemon grove before realising it was too dark to carry on searching! On his empty handed return we were desperate to find a substitute and searched the apartment for a cuddly item for No.1 Son to hug. We eventually managing to get him off to sleep clutching the slightly damp ball-shaped sponge from the bathroom!!!!

The sponge was a bedtime fixture for the rest of the holiday but was supplanted by something furrier on our return to Holland. Piggy made a miraculous re-appearance a few months later, complete with a very clean coat, a straight tail and the ability to squeak when squeezed!
No.1 Son was SO pleased to see him that the differences weren't a problem ;o)


Do you have your own soft toy memories? Why not share them via Storytelling Sunday - we'd love to hear them!

Storytelling in Vegas

It's Sunday again, the first Sunday in the month which means it's Storytelling Sunday (hosted over at High in the Sky) - not a story like last year's post for April 1st - but this one is equally amazing.

I'm just back from a brilliant girly holiday in Las Vegas and I'm now wading through the 500+ photos I took, deciding what to scrap and what to print and scrap!  All six of us had cameras and we often took turns to take photos of the group with each other's cameras so I know that I'll have an even bigger choice of photos once we share them.  One day four of us we were enjoying a lunch-time rest and a refreshing (alcoholic) slushy cocktail, taking a few different combination shots of ourselves, when a kind passer-by offered to take a photo of the whole group.  What's more she was happy to take group shots with each of the four available cameras!  I noticed that her convention badge had the word "scraporchard" printed on it and asked what she was doing in Vegas: it turned out that she was a digi-scrapper attending "Digiscrapapalooza"!!!  No wonder she'd understood the need to take photos and offered to help!  We just had to grab another passer-by and get a shot of all five of us (on each of our cameras of course)!

Me, Jacqui, Balinda (our newest scrapping buddy), Nic & Jeanette

If you want to read more stories, or have a story of your own to share, please pop over to Siân's place and follow the links.

Spot The Difference

Today, the first Sunday in March, is a time for tales ... told in words or pictures or both.  I was browsing my photos to prompt a story and found these two ...

One baby is a girl, the other a boy; they were both photographed in a foreign country where Dutch was/is spoken.  Both were pudgy babies who grew into stick thin children.  One is still skinny and trying to gain weight, the other ...

I had never noticed before how very similar they were as babies ... no wonder they clash occasionally now that they are both adults!
{ And no wonder No.2 Son reckons No.1 Son is turning into his Mother Mark II }

Pop over to Siân's place for more Sunday stories.

Carry On Camping

Having joined in with each and every month's Sunday Storytelling during 2011, I was a little miffed with myself for missing the very first one in 2012.  Hey ho - never mind - here I am with some tent tales for February.

In my quest to make pages for my BOM I was looking through old photos and found yet another photo of me stood by the apple tree in our front garden.  It seemed to be the place to stand - I have a variety of photos of me with every length of hair, wearing new school uniforms, trouser suits, emerald green hotpants, yellow T-shirt and matching knee length socks (nope never going to share that one!) and also me in my Guide gear:

I loved being a guide and worked towards several badges for baking, local history, path-finding, sewing etc.  I remember one of the most exciting things about our weekly meetings was being in the school building in the evenings! It had such a different atmosphere at night: all those echoing corridors and tempting cupboards!  The really brave amongst us even peeped into the boys' toilets!

Guiding also gave me the opportunity to go camping.  My family had long ago decided that they preferred proper beds, rain-proof roofs and indoor flushing toilets so I had never been camping before.  I went away with them for a weekend camp first to make sure that I could cope with life in the wild and happily signed up for a week long camp near East Grinstead (my friend Claire may well be revisiting the very same site this year with her Guide troop).  Back in the day there were fewer rules and regulations about health and safety and so some of us were transported, along with tents, cooking equipment, food and bags in the back of a furniture removal van!  We all thought it was very exciting but my present day self is aghast at the thought of it!

The high spot of the week for me was falling asleep under the stars when it was our patrol's turn to sleep outside the tent.  I also enjoyed tying sticks together to build "tables" and "shelves" for inside the tent - they generally collapsed if you walked too close to them or lashed out an arm in the middle of the night but it was something to rebuild during the enforced post-lunch rest hour: we didn't have to sleep but were to stay in our tents off our feet!  The latrines were at the other end of the field and, while not off-limits during this time, crawling across the field was a bit of a nightmare as the cows had only recently vacated, leaving surprise packages here and there!  Wellington boots were required footwear as they didn't let the ooze anywhere near your skin and were quickly rinsed clean if you missed a step.

Less happy memories include the rain coming into our tent on the first night - nobody had told us NOT to touch the inside surface and we thought it was strange that the more we touched the bigger the drips of water ... until it was practically raining inside the tent and we had to decamp (literally) into the First Aid tent for the rest of the week.  The weather improved, allowing us to sleep out, get stung by wasps that crawled inside our wellies and dried off the top of the cow pats making them less gooey to tread on.  Unfortunately that also meant that they could be picked up (exposing the still oozy, smelly under-surface) and flung at other people, sometimes rather too accurately - I never have quite forgiven a certain "friend" for aiming at my head instead of my boots!  YUK!
 
Want a less filthy tale?  Have something smutty sunny to share yourself?  Pop over to Siân's place for more memories.

P.S. The page prompted by the photo is already done, but has to wait a while as it's using the only-just-announced-outside-the-Master-Forgers February Counterfeit Kit!

P.P.S, It's now up on my blog here!

I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date!

Welcome readers to the final Sunday Storytelling for 2011.  I've managed to join in each month with a variety of stories from my childhood, my children's childhood and the present day and each month I have enjoyed reading a whole host of interesting tales from other joiner-inners!  So I couldn't miss out this month - I'm a finisher-offer :-)

My story begins early one Friday in late November.  I was making my final preparations before setting off for a weekend away with several fellow bloggers.  Not one of whom I'd met beforehand.  Scary stuff.  Although I'd followed several of their blogs for a while, and exchanged e-mails with a few, it wasn't as if I really, really knew anyone and yet here I was about to scrap with them, eat with them and even (thanks to the budget bunk-bed accommodation) sleep with some of them!

The Telford Ten (not really that scary in real life):
Lesley, Alexa, Lizzie, Julie, K, Clair, Mel, Ruth, Jo & Me

Not to worry though, I told myself - you have mobile numbers, directions, supplies (both of the paper, scissors, glue variety and edible) and you've got your big girl pants on.  I had offered to collect Ruth from the station as it was more or less on my route - which had the added advantage that we'd both have met one person before arriving officially!  So I programmed my satnav and set off with plenty of time to spare - I did not want to keep her waiting!

Now, I am frequently 5-10 minutes late because things crop (pardon the pun) up at the last minute and today was no exception: I remembered I had to get some cash and buy milk to leave at home for my family, but I had factored in plenty of leeway - no problem!  Off I set and made good progress southwards.  The train was arriving at 13:50 or thereabouts and after half an hour or so I decided to check my predicted arrival time on the satnav ... OH NO ... I must have miscalculated (bad show for someone with a degree in mathematics) as it was saying that I was due at the station at 14:10!

Oh dear, oh dear - what a terrible first impression I was about to make.  Poor Ruth - left waiting at a strange station!  I put my foot down and drove as fast as I safely could - shaving a minute off the arrival time here, another one there ... getting closer and closer to the dreaded 13:50.  Maybe her train would be late!  That would be good (sorry Ruth).  Luckily the traffic was fine and, despite going slightly wrong on one of the final roundabouts, I pulled into the car park at exactly 2pm.  Phew - just 10 minutes late. Not bad considering!

I immediately phoned Ruth to tell her I'd arrived ... and she said she was still on the train.  Thank goodness I thought - her train is late!  (deeply sorry Ruth)

Yup - it's leaving in 5 minutes she continued.  Leaving?  I thought. Where??
I'll be there in about 50 minutes.  What?
OK I said, nonchalantly, I'll see you soon.  Strange.  Maybe I'd got the train time wrong?!

It took me a moment or two of glancing back and forth between my watch, the arrival time on the satnav and the car clock before the penny dropped ... my satnav was still on British Summer Time and I wasn't 10 minutes late ... I was 50 minutes early!

It might have been budget accommodation but it was very beautiful

I didn't let on to Ruth or anyone else as incompetence wasn't quite the vibe I wanted to put across for the weekend. The cat is well and truly out of the bag - but I'm hoping it will now just add to my charm for the rest of the Telford Ten!

Want to read the final 2011 exploits of other bloggers?  Pop over to Siân where there will be plenty to choose from.

P.S. If anyone knows how to reset the clock on a TomTom Go 520 please let me know because it's still stuck on BST!

11.11.11

Source

Today is special - it's Remembrance Day here in the UK - we hold a two minute silence at 11:00 to remember the men and women who have died in the service of their country.
In the last couple of weeks many people have been wearing poppies sold by the Royal British Legion - they are celebrating their 90th year of helping with the welfare and support of injured troops and their dependants.
Many other Commonwealth countries will be remembering their fallen today.
I'll be at work at 11:00 and hope that we'll be able to ignore the phones and observe the silence there and to reflect on the bravery shown and the sacrifices made by so very many people.

Today I have also been invited by Beverly to take part in another sort of celebration of the date (a palindromic occurrence that hasn't happened for 100 years (the date not the invitation!)).  She asked us to share 11 photos, 11 things to do before the end of the year and 11 things that we've read/seen/experienced during 2011.

11 Photos from 2011 - more or less one a month
Ranging from a Mother's day text to a  rooftop sculpture in Italy,
from 100 years of theatre  to our first home-grown peas!

As for good intentions ... they mostly revolve around Christmas: make more than two Christmas cards, post our Christmas cards in plenty of time, make some frozen Christmas pudding, make an early start on Christmas shopping (please stop feeling smug if you've already done all of yours - I call Christmas shopping in November very early!), clean the oven in advance (I don't want guests to see the state it's normally in) and invite family to spend some festive days with us.  The non-Christmassy ones are as follows ... plant some more peas and onions for next spring, tidy up the rest of the garden, de-clutter the downstairs rooms, finish off the year's bookkeeping and get myself organised for a Blogger's retreat at the end of the month!

The 11 things that have happened during 2011 ... well I blogged about quite a lot of stuff:

• I helped start a local crop which is going from strength to strength (we hoped for 8 members and have 20 on the books)
• I found out about the Counterfeit Kit Challenge Blog and became a Master Forger
• I took a Shimelle class called Blogging For Scrapbookers and "met" lots of new blogging buddies
• I was selected as a contestant in the UKScrappers Scrap Factor contest and made lots of "hybrid" pages including these
• Our Silver Wedding Anniversary was celebrated in Barcelona with the family
• I started regular work at the local theatre
• No.1 Son gave us a few extra grey hairs but we could see the funny side!
• I made him a Smash book and what's more he used it!
• A year of blogging was marked by my first giveaway
• We had a few days away in York 
• We started growing some fruit and veg and have actually harvested some crops (including the peas above)!

Pop over to Beverly's at BE Glorious to see what other "elevens" have been shared and perhaps share your own too!

Dental Drama

Do you hate going to the dentist?
Most of us don't like it much do we?
We have twice yearly check-ups plus the occasional visit for emergency treatment thanks to a lost filling, a chipped tooth or an abscess.  Luckily neither I nor any of my family are afraid to go - it's just a chore that has to be done!

However I can remember one occasion, many, many, many years ago, when I was extremely reluctant to attend my 6-monthly check-up, despite the fact that I'd be missing some school.
It was the missing school bit that was upsetting me.  Now don't get me wrong - I was a good student during the week but I was even better at relaxing at the weekends.  It's just that the Primary School that I was at had got an attendance reward scheme.  So it was worth being there. As long as it was every day! 

At the end of each term there was a final assembly when, if you had been there every single day of the term, your name was read out and you were presented with a selection box of sweets.  This was a really big deal!  Sweets were special!!  And if you attended every single morning and afternoon of the whole year you were given a GIANT selection box of sweets!

Now I had already managed to claim both the Autumn and Spring prizes ... and this dental appointment was putting the ultimate prize at risk!  Naturally enough, this cut no mustard with my mother and I was collected one afternoon around an hour before the end of school.

By the time the end of year assembly arrived I had come to terms with the fact that an hour off school had saved my teeth twice over.  So you can imagine my surprise and glee to hear my name read out as one of the pupils who had been marked present in the register at the beginning of each summer morning and afternoon ... and then imagine my utter, utter joy at hearing my name read out again to take delivery of that GIANT selection box ... as well!!!  More sweets than I had ever had in my possession in one go in my life!

Source (as I have not one photo of either a selection box or me in this school's uniform)

I can't imagine today's schoolchildren caring enough about a selection box of sweets to ensure that they attend every day of school.  It can't have been an incentive because as soon as you'd had one day off with a cold - you might as well stay off for a week afterwards!  It wasn't that great for your teeth either really was it?!

Today's post was brought to you as part of Sian's Storytelling Sundays - pop over there to share your own and read lots more.

P.S. If you've dropped by to see more details of my Counterfeit Kit for November it isn't here yet (sorry) ... but will be up on the blog tomorrow. I was busy cutting it all up yesterday and have already made a page with it by way of compensation ;o)

Storytelling Sunday Ten - Great Expectations

Last year we had a lovely week in Northumberland - I've already made some pages about our exploits at Alnwick Gardens, Go Ape (plus this one) and Hadrian's Wall.  During the planning stages, Child No.3 was taking a rather more active interest than normal - because she was allowed to bring along a friend!  This was a first for us, as three kids are normally quite enough to have on holiday, but as No.1 Son would only be with us for part of the week and Child No.3's friend would shortly be emigrating, it seemed like the right thing to do.  No.2 Son declined the opportunity to be embarrassed by his parents in front of a buddy and would happily have stayed home alone if we'd let him!  So that left us with a search for self-catering accommodation to sleep 6 people in 3, preferably 4, bedrooms.

We discussed everyone's likes and dislikes, where they wanted to go and what they wanted to see; we researched tourist attractions, pored over the map and Googled places to stay. One cottage I had up on the computer screen was just yards from the beach and both Child No.3 & I rather liked it - we had visions of being able to spend lazy afternoons eating ice-creams on the beach, after mornings spent exploring Roman ruins and castle battlements.

However I later discovered that it wasn't available to rent when we were able to go ... and instead booked a super place near Hexham which was well placed for Northumberland's attractions and it had a hot tub!  Trouble was that Child No.3 didn't really take in that it was a different cottage and was busy assuring her friend that the beach was in walking distance of the back door!  Ooops!  The nearest beach was 30 miles away on the other side of Newcastle-upon-Tyne and therefore a good hour's drive each way.  Ooops indeed!  We didn't let Child No.3 down completely though; towards the end of our week we managed a picnic at a beautiful, if windswept, beach.  The two girls were happy to be in their swimming costumes with sand beneath their toes, but not quite brave enough to go swimming in the ice-cold sea.

However, there were other members of our group who don't particularly like a beach ... or sunbathing ... or picking sand out of sandwiches!  It just goes to show: you can only please some of the people some of the time!

This story has been posted in conjunction with Siân's Storytelling Sundays.  Pop here for more tales!

September's Storytelling Sunday

Well it's that time of the month again .... Siân's Storytelling Sunday and I have taken added inspiration from Siân - from the book that she passed out last September ("Still Missing" by Beth Gutcheon) which I reviewed here.

It was back in the summer of 2000 and we had just arrived at our campsite near Grosseto, Italy after a week in a central Tuscany.  I say campsite, but we haven't stayed in a tent since one very wet fortnight in Brittany, when the tent leaked from both above and below!  No, we were staying in a two bedroomed mobile home and looking forward to mornings on the beach, afternoons in the pool and nights in proper (bunk) beds.  We always found holiday catering for ourselves was fun - fresh bread, salads, barbecued meats, some fries from the campsite take-away, followed by ice-creams from the bar - what's not to like?  (Especially with three fussy kids in tow)  Trouble was, we'd only just arrived and the campsite shop had already closed and both the cook and the pot washer were tired.  So we decided to treat ourselves to an evening meal in the open air restaurant and leave the supply shopping until the next morning.  While we relaxed afterwards with the remains of the carafe of vino rosso, the small people began to get restless and wanted to do something - the playground was right next to the restaurant, within sight of our table and all three went to swing or slide or climb.  After 5 minutes or so, while Hubby was settling the bill I went to fetch them to choose ice-creams before bed.

But the play area was now deserted.  No children at all, neither ours nor anyone else's!  And it was no longer dusk - it was really quite dark.

Retracing my steps I found that No.1 & No.2 Sons had established themselves by the arcade games opposite the play area (in fairness they had already been without computers & TV for a week which is a long time when you're 8 & 10), but that left Child No.3 ... they'd left her happily messing in the sand pit apparently.  This was when the doubts began to creep in, hearts began to race, stomachs began to churn ... it was dark everywhere except the bar/restaurant/arcade area where it was brightly lit and she was neither back at our table, nor ogling the ice-creams, nor watching the boys.  For a moment I wondered if I was looking for her in the wrong coloured clothes - was she wearing blue not pink? Was that why I hadn't spotted her?  No - she simply wasn't there!

It was a complicated walk to our mobile home but Hubby checked it in case she'd somehow wandered back there.  Meanwhile I had started asking at nearby tables if people had seen her, checked and re-checked the playground half a dozen times and was really beginning to worry.  Was she lost?  How could she ask for help in a foreign country?  Had she been taken? There were too many places to hide a small child on a campsite this big!  How would we find her? Hubby and I took turns to walk dash in increasingly large circles around the restaurant area to see if we could spot her but without success - we decided it was time to report her loss officially.

Of course this story does have a happy ending - on Hubby's way to the reception building he spotted her ahead of him - slightly teary, hand-in-hand with a kind soul who had found her wandering about between the nearby tents.  She'd taken a roundabout route back from the play area to our table to find it empty and then gone off into the dark to find us!  She was probably missing for about ten minutes, but they were, without a doubt, some of the worst minutes of my life.  I get goosebumps just thinking about it.

Now as you can imagine, we do NOT have photos of this unhappy event.  In fact the holiday photos are all pretty poor, coming from a pre-digital time, but the story needed scrapping and so I picked a photo of Child No.3 from earlier that very day to use with this story.

August Counterfeit Kit, used plus the UKS August Week 5 Challenge criteria

For more, hopefully happier, stories please pop over to Siân's and why not share one of your own - everyone is welcome.

August Stories

Did I ever tell you that I once sat down for a chat with Mickey Mouse?
"That's nothing special!" I hear you cry, after all, so many children have now seen Mickey and friends in Florida, California, Tokyo, Paris, Hong Kong and Shanghai.
But I'm talking about way back in 1963 ... in Bognor Regis!  Mickey & I had a fine old time as you can see:

Despite the fact that the slide is dated July 1963, I suspect that both Mickey & I had very cold knees and the picture was more likely taken much earlier in the year.

Later I popped over to Miss Muffet's tuffet for a while, but she wasn't there ... I wonder why?

Finally I went aboard for a short cruise with the Butcher and the Baker.

Such were the attractions on offer for children back in the 60s.  No animatronics, no white-knuckle rides (the railway around Hotham Park was fun but it didn't exactly set your pulse racing); just a few fancy chickens, a couple of goats, some guinea pigs and most exotic of all: a llama or two!  I don't actually remember the animals of Pets Corner, but I do remember the excitement of meeting the characters from my bedtime nursery rhymes, including poor Humpty Dumpty, though sadly I do not have any photographic evidence of our encounter.

I visited Bognor Regis a lot as a child as it was there that my paternal grandparents ran a boarding house: plenty of spare rooms for my father, my brother & I when he came home to the UK on leave.  We children were indulged by the paying guests and occasionally given a few pennies (old ones mind) to take to the arcades on the pier.  I'm rather ashamed to recall that I often mentioned the local attractions to the residents in anticipation of their generosity!

I was fascinated by the little balls of butter and tiny pots of marmalade that my grandmother would prepare during the afternoons, ready for the next day's breakfast trays. There were service bells in each room too - my brother & I would delight in ringing them and then dash down to see the panel in the kitchen indicating which room we'd just been in.  It must have driven my grandfather mad and was utterly pointless as we knew perfectly well which bell we'd just rung.  Happy days though!

I've only just scanned these slides, and so there's no layout to share, but I did make a page a while back of  me outside the boarding house with my first proper bike: as you can see, I (or more likely my mother) really liked me dressed in red!

These innocently happy memories were brought to you in conjunction with Siân's Storytelling Sundays - pop here for more.

P.S. There's still time to hop around my Blogiversary friends and find the missing number to be in with a chance of a give-away .... I'll be back with the winner on Monday 9th!

Storytelling Sunday Seven

Gosh don't the months roll around quickly?!  Time for another instalment of Siân's Storytelling Sundays - check it out here (after reading mine of course :-P)

At work this week, I was wondering what to write about  ... and then realised that work itself would be something to talk about.   Namely my first jobs ... and possibly Hubby's first jobs!  They have no bearing on where we ended up working at all - but they have influenced us!

My first job was working in Woolworths on Saturdays - guarding the fur coats!  THE most boring job in the world: hanging around the rack containing half a dozen, not hugely expensive (we are talking Woollies after all!), rabbit fur coats: to make sure that nobody tried them on and walked out of the store! Do I have a fur coat now? No!!

My second Saturday job was in British Home Stores (BHS) working in the homewares department, where I learnt to use a till that didn't add up very well ... if someone came to me wanting to buy 15 items at 99p, I was supposed to enter 99p fifteen times!   Luckily my co-worker showed me the quick way to do this and honed my mental arithmetic skills to boot - £15 less 15p i.e. £14.85 is a LOT quicker and more accurate to key in than 99p, 99p, 99p, 99p, ...  My colleague also taught me how to fold (tea-)towels for display on the shelves so that there were no visible edges.  Do I still fold towels this way?  YES!

I then worked as a shelf-filler, and eventually on the tills, at Waitrose - their tills did a much better job of adding up than the BHS ones ... do I still shop there?  Sometimes :D

Now Hubby had various jobs before he started down his final career path, but the job that has left him with a legacy is the one in the dairy - producing yoghurt.  He won't eat it!  Not because he dislikes it.  Not because he's allergic to it.  But because "Phil" used to flick his bogies into the mix!!! I somehow don't think I'll be doing a page about that, do you?!

More stories here - enjoy!

Summer Time

It looks like the summer weather is back at last here in the North West of England.  Not that I've been able to enjoy it in the last couple of days.  Friday was spent in a very hot car, with broken air-conditioning, driving to Bangor and back to move No.2 Son home after his first year of university.  And yesterday I was happily cropping with friends while the sun was shining outside; by the time I was back at home and ready to chill with a glass of wine in the garden, it was spitting with rain.

Maybe today I will get a chance to plant my hanging baskets and then relax in our lovely garden hammock.

The hammock that started life as a trampoline.

At least that was what No.3 Child wanted us to buy back in 2007 - a trampoline.  All her friends had one.  She was the only child in the whole universe that didn't have one.  However, we were reluctant to buy one as we felt  a) that she was getting a bit too old for a trampoline and would soon lose interest, b) that a decent sized one would take up too much room in the garden, killing off the grass if it wasn't moved regularly (how?!!) and c) that they're no good for drinking wine on!

Ever one to compromise, she suggested a hammock as an alternative which was much more acceptable, if less bouncy.  We found the on-line store Hammock Heaven and invested in a "double" hammock that would take several children at once knowing full well what would happen when the children's friends visited!  Of course it arrived during a typically wet week and there was no prospect of it being constructed in the garden for days!  So like good parents, who have already disappointed their daughter once, we built it indoors in the living room!!

Sorry, this page may not be new to UKS readers - made in 2009!

Child No.3 does still occasionally ask for a trampoline for the garden - but of course now that we have a hammock there's no room!!

This story was brought to you in conjunction with Siân's Storytelling Sundays - find more June tales here.  Thanks for stopping by :D

P.S. the Counterfeit Kit for June went live today over on the CKCB - come back tomorrow to see the details of what I shopped my stash for :D