This afternoon I spent 30 minutes round at the school, meeting with both teachers. It is an annual event, to catch up with what they think of my little darlings.

Things got off to a bad start when I stood in the wrong corridor for 10 minutes, having mixed the two meetings up in my head. Thankfully, P6 teachers have a bit of wit and Miss Bell came a-looking for me.

Well! I'll go to the foot of my stairs! It seems that David has moved from being in the top three of his class - to being the TOP! He scored 100% in things that were scored in percentages and then weird numbers like 44 on a scale of 26-44. Who am I to argue with Miss Bell about weird scoring systems when she is telling me the child is a genius?

She told me that she grew weary of giving him words to spell because he was never going to get 10 wrong - never mind 10 in a row. She had to have him up to the desk three times on his own as other children fell by the way-side, giving him more and more words. She called a halt to it all in the end and presented me with a report that tells me he has a spelling age of 15 years and 10 months. He is 10.

That's ma boy.

Although I reckon *I* have a spelling age of 15 years, 10 months!

There was nothing but praise from her about him - he is polite and industrious in class and a "joy to teach". We discussed the fact that next year there is a big test for him and should have be given any extra coaching or "test papers" for that. She cocked her eyebrow at me and asked me I was being serious? That is a big relief on my part as I really did not want to be putting extra pressure on him so early in his academic life.

I moved on to Jessica's teacher, bracing myself for the inevitable. Jessica kinda has an attitude to life along the lines of "I know I can do this so why should I jump through hoops for you?" Recently I have seen her writing wee notes to me with weird spelling in them - like "lurn" instead of "learn" (that being a real Northern Ireland accent thing) and one I saw yesterday: "wuarm" instead of "warm".

I am quietly confident that she will go on to bigger and better things but that perhaps learning wont be the most important thing in her life.

Well, Mrs Aiken would disagree with me there. Jessica is in the top reading class and got 50 out of 50 of her spellings correct. She says Jessica works very hard in school and the only thing she made a comment on was her handwriting. Funnily enough, Jessica's handwriting is the one thing I praise her for all the time! It is obviously a lot neater at home than in school.

So, I sat gob-smacked. My children are fantastic. Allow me a moment to beam with pride. When I came back to the house to tell Nanna, she actually punched the air with happiness!

Did I mention my son has a reading age of 15 years and 10 months? . . .

Threadless have printed my favourite t shirt Afternoon Delight as a hoody! This wasn't expected for some time. You never know - they might do Communist Party next week!

YAY!

In Navy Blue too - not in white for a change! How brilliant is that? *does dance*

They have a sale on again too.

I kinda fancy one of the new designs too as a hoody. You think that would be a good one for me?

I do love the idea that they are doing hoodies now - there are only so many t shirts you can go wear in a year.

Ya think?

Tonight was the first night of Top Gear and saw Richard Hammond back in his job of presenting the show.

I have to say I watched the whole show with tears never far from trickling. When he commentated through the footage of his crash I was practically balling my eyes out. His words as he climbed into the car and talked about being scared etc were just a little too close to the knuckle.

He is looking much thinner now but, Dude, he is alive!

Yay!

I have been very good not saying anything about Vista (No! I am NOT going to advertise it for them by providing a link - if you don't know what I am talking about google it!) so far. This sums it all up for me. Even just saying the name out loud to Iain bored the hell out of me. At least he got the joke. The first time I read this I laughed VERY loud.

Please go and check out the original site. They are too funny for words.

Oh no!!! Oh no!!! Oh no oh no oh no. . .

I have just watched You've Been Framed! with the children. And my favourite clip was on it. Think. What is my favourite YBF! clip? Remember? The one with the Granny who can' t hear.

Her grand daughter is talking to her and saying "Suuuusan."

The granny says "Who?"

GD: "Suuuuusan."

GM: "Who?? Steeeeeven?"

GD: "No. . .Suusssan." And so it goes on for ages with it finishing with the granny telling the grand daughter she ought to learn how to speak properly. It cracks me up every time I see it. I love it mainly because it has my name in it but also because it has the laugh at the end when she tells the girl off.

I quote it all the time. When I hear anyone saying my name like that I reply with "Steeeeven." (And wonder why they are looking at me strangely.) It is kinda a bit of a running joke now and I do talk about that clip quite a lot.

Tonight I shhhhed the children when I saw it coming on. "Wait wait wait - watch this" I said.

Then watched in total embarrassment as the Granny didn't say "Steeeeven?" at all. She says "Juuuuuuulie?"

What? What? What? How could she get that so wrong? She obviously has forgotten her words!

I am so disappointed now. And kinda embarrassed too . . . Shhh - don't tell anyone!

Some years ago now I was approached by a friend of a friend and asked to help out at a wedding. There was a whole story about how the couple weren't able to get married in America and had come here to tie the knot but as things were being arranged as quickly and as cheaply as possible they couldn't afford a real photographer.

I took on the job with three days notice, made a mate in the progress, gained loads of confidence and ended up with lots of material for the final piece of the course I was doing at the time.

It was because of that wedding that I am now doing what I am doing for a living.

There is a little bit of a (black humour) joke between myself and another photographer about how her clients die on her - she has had three clients die either before she manages to photograph them or shortly after. I am kinda waiting for my first.

Well, I think I win this one! The "First Person I Photographed To Be Deported" competition. . .

I read, with absolute horror, in the local paper today that "my first bride" is on the brink of being deported to America because the Home Office don't recognise the marriage. The couple have gone on to have a daughter and the wife is 8 months pregnant with their second child. I really feel for them.

There are so many people coming to this country now totally illegally and not contributing to society or living on benefits it seems such a shame to harass a couple who are trying their best to be upstanding citizens. At the moment the wife stands, at 8 months pregnant, to be deported and split up from her husband. And worse, he will be split from his wife and children.

All so unfair. I hope it works out for them soon.

It's a while since I chuckled at this sort of thing. Apologies if you have seen them all before - if you have just move along quietly.

All of these are legitimate companies that didn't spend quite enough time considering how their online names might appear ... and be misread. These are not made up. Check them out yourself!


1. Who Represents is where you can find the name of the agent that represents any celebrity. Their Web site is www.whorepresents.com.

2 . Experts Exchange is a knowledge base where programmers can exchange advice and views at www.expertsexchange.com.

3. Looking for a pen? Look no further than Pen Island at www.penisland.net.

4. Need a therapist? Try Therapist Finder at www.therapistfinder.com.

5. There's the Italian Power Generator company, www.powergenitalia.com

6. And don't forget the Mole Station Native Nursery in New South Wales , www.molestationnursery.com.

7. If you're looking for IP computer software, there's always; www.ipanywhere.com.

8. The First Cumming Methodist Church Web site is www.cummingfirst.com.

9. And the designers at Speed of Art await you at their wacky Web site, www.speedofart.com

Thanks to Jacqui for this and a big Happy Birthday to Suzanne!

David has been invited to a sleep over for one night. It will be his first, I suppose boys don't have sleep overs as much as girls. We have him all ready with three pairs of pants, four pairs of socks, jammie bottoms and one tooth brush. That is about all the clothes he packed. Saying that, he packed those himself. I was quite impressed. He also has his latest book, his Nintendo DS, two XBox controllers (they will be playing in a competition), his iPod Nano . . . he has more technology with him than they used to put men on the moon.

He has also taken his tub of Farty Putty that Jessica gave him for Christmas. He didn't want to show me that when we inspected his bag because he knows I don't like that word. Farty. Not Putty. Putty has its uses at times. I can say that ok. Fart is just not a word we use in this house. Hands up how many of you have ever heard me say it out loud? I am only typing it here because I can shut my eyes while I do it.

I played with the Farty Putty for quite a while - it is strangely compulsive stuff - thinking about how there is no way *I* would have had that as a child.

David came and sat beside me and we discussed some words. He asked why I don't like some words.

Is Fart a word you don't like?

Why don't you like it?

Is it a BAD word?

By this stage I was sitting with a big confused, embarrassed grin on my face. It is hard to explain the weirdness in my head at times.

Someone on tv said the word "sexy" and he gasped and said "Is SEXY a bad word? . . . . . . is SEX a bad word?"

I shook my head and said "No, it isn't a bad word but sometimes it depends on how it is said."

I am still blinking from the shock of his next "Have you ever had sex Mummy?" in his sweetest little boy voice, stroking my hand and sucking his thumb.

Seemingly he had overheard a story told at Nanna's the other day and he had worked out that sex was involved in making babies.

He then started to pretend to vomit. "Ew. Gross. I can't believe that you have had sex. That is gross. Ew. And so has Kim! Kim has had sex!"

I wondered if we were going to have to sit there while he mentally ticked off every single person in the world as he worked out that they had had sex.

This conversation has come one day after I thought that we would have at least another year before we needed to have this sort of conversation with him. This has come about ten years sooner than I WANTED to have this conversation and in fact - where is his Father in all of this?

I wonder what he knows. What kind of garbled thoughts does he have? Does he just have a few ideas so far. . .

Reminds me of the time I asked my grandmother to make me a sandwich with vagina ham rather than Virginia Ham. I wonder did she choke on her own spit too.

I don't think that is quite right. Sorry if you have received the same sort of treatment - I hate it when I repeat myself.

I hate it when I repeat myself.

(Although, three "Cock Ups" in one day just about sums my day up yesterday!)

This should all be sorted fairly soon. Hang in there with me huh? There is still a minor matter of the the feed icons not being in the correct place on the page but I have been told that is simple enough to fix. . . huh uh . . . and a couple of other little niggly things that I can't seem to fathom but I'll get there. It has been a while since I delved in to RapidWeaver so it is all taking a wee while.

In the meantime - anyone who has followed me over and is receiving this ok - could you let me know via email or comments?

Never mind PC problems - I have been jolting from one cock up to another today.

Here's my new theory: I want to change a few things here on the site. I want to move things around a little and to start all that off I want to turn the page a little on you and get you to read this somewhere else . . . on a different page all together - but my first attempt at that didn't end up so good - so with the benefit of hindsight - I am going to try that again.

This will mean that, those of you who read via RSS (there aren't all that many of you to be honest!) will have a new RSS feed to save. This will be the last post on the old RSS so please go now and save the new RSS feed.

Now! IF you got round to saving the one I gave you earlier - forget it! THIS is the one you want now.

http://feeds.feedburner.com/AnyDanger

Just for the next couple of days - please consider this site as UNDER CONSTRUCTION until I get everything ironed out.

I have my old household computer in work here, taking up space. I basically only ever use it about three times per annum now and have been thinking about donating it to David. Away before Christmas, I turned it on but it came up immediately with an error.

Today I finally got round to contacting our computer guy (after taking a mound of stuff off the keyboard to get at it) and telling him what the problem is. He says it will take a whole Windows re-install (which is Nigel's answer to everything basically) and "that'll be fifty squid thank you very much kerrrrrching". Plus a fifty mile round trip from home to take it to him, then another to collect it. He isn't particularly local to us any more.

The problem is. Do I need a pc enough to warrant £50? If it was £20 and just around the corner yea - but - bleh. . . Should I take that £50 and put it towards an iMac?

Answers on a postcard please.

Ok Ok Ok - only true Mac lovers need bother with this one.

Watch this and tell me you haven't been there. Watch this and tell me that you recognise the trips in to PCW / Apple to stroke and drool over your own particular model-of-preference.

See her absolute disgust when she realises "she will never be with you." See her total love when she KISSES the machine. . .

My Mac is brilliant. . .

12 inch Powerbook . . .

I went to the Apple Store . . .

Just to take a look . . .

She even manages to get her own You Tube page on the screen in the store.

Inspired. I have watched this four times now and each time I had tears in my eyes. Hope you enjoy too.

Last night I prodded Iain awake at 3am so he could listen to . . . no . . not the wind this time - but to a scraping, ripping, tearing sound. Yup. A mouse.

This wasn't a normal "I'm in out of the cold and just resting a while in this lovely dry attic" kind of mouse. This was a "I am a cheeky little bugger and if I have my way, not only will I make the wardrobe my new home but I will get in there beside you if you lie still long enough"

I thought it was tearing up the carpet under one of the drawers but when Iain got out of bed with my mobile phone as a torch he decided it was in the built-in wardrobe. He was so convinced of this that he had me open the window, presumably so he could scoop the beastie up and out when he came across it. He pulled out about six plastic bags in his search for it. Who would know you had so many empty plastic bags in there? What's that all about then? He pulled out boxes and shoes and then sat quiet for five minutes to listen for more scratching and when it happened he checked under the drawer like I had suggested . . . but nah - nothing there either.

We gave up after a while. When I say *we* I mean: I stopped pulling the duvet up to my ears in bed while Iain knelt stark bollock naked on the floor waiting for a rodent to run at him and boy, would I have wet myself laughing had it done so.

We have moved the sonic thingy in (which makes an annoying ticking noise all the time) and the traps shall have to be moved from the attic to the bedroom later. I shall have to wear whatever is already out because Dude there is no way I am going back in to that wardrobe until I hear a snap rather than scratching. . .

YES! I had totally forgotten how much I loved watching Dancing On Ice last year. It is back and I hadn't even realised it was on until we switched the tv on in the kitchen at tea time.

YAY!

That's my Saturday nights sorted for the next few weeks.

I have absolutely no idea why I like it so much - other than the love affair I had with Torvill and Dean in the 80s. Considering I can't even step on to ice myself, it is a mystery as to why I love watching these non-professionals bettering their skills week after week. . . .

Where is the Statue of Liberty?

Is there only one?

Is there only one in the world?

Or is there one on every planet?

Like in Mexico - is Mexico it's own planet?

The 19th January is my Dad's birthday. He is 66 this year. It is totally weird that I remember his birthday, considering I have neither seen him nor spoken to him in 21 years.

I kinda don't even remember why we stopped talking. There was a row. You know how it goes with families. Feelings are hurt, voices are raised, fists are slammed on kitchen tables, bags packed, back doors slammed, stubbornness set in stone and hey presto it is 21 years later and you are wondering "What happened there then, Ted?"

In that time I have seen him maybe twice, by accident. I walked past him in a shopping centre in the late 80s and once I slowed down to let him cross the road in front of me and he raised his hand in thanks to the driver - not realising it was me. Oh, yes, there was a third time - when I was still in my teens, where I was walking down the hill and he was walking up it and he crossed the road in front of me and that made me dig my heels in deeper that he crossed the road to avoid me.

As I get older and see more of the world, I understand more of what it was like to be my parents and how things played out the way they did with our family. That doesn't mean I forgive anything yet (or ever) or even want to be bothered getting in touch.

The £20 he sent with my brother to buy drinks at our wedding didn't go too far. . . For the first 8 years of my married life we were in the phone book and he knew how to contact me - he didn't, so I didn't either and I no problem going ex-directory when we moved.

I know where he lives, it wouldn't be hard to drop a letter through the door - but why? What good would it do? Sleeping dogs n all that.

Every now and then, when I have better things to do, something reminds me that I haven't googled myself for a while. I know it sounds a bit strange - but it is a good way to find out if anyone has been using your Flickr photos say in their blog or in an article.

This afternoon was one of those moments. I am up to my ears in work (was going to insert something witty here about my work book already being printed off for college but that would be salt in an open wound methinks) then realised I haven't googled myself for a while.

HeeEEeeeEEeeeee!

Have a lookeee here! That's my photo there so t'is.

Chuffed I am.

And what about here too?

I have absolutely NO idea what is going on in this one - but he used my photo of Stephanie so it must be a damn fine article. . .

Incidentally, the same guy who wrote the entry about the cinema also wrote one about my old school including a list of famous people who went there. I am not on it. Yet. But here is a You Tube video of a guy I used to know.

I am most happy to report that Duke Special went there too - how cool is that? I didn't know that.

My day just gets better and better!

I have a long running joke with Gill (my next door neighbour and child minder) when I pick up the kids at night. We try to make out that each of us was worse off as a child. She always wins because she is much funnier than I am and able to think considerably faster on her (much older) feet.

Last week David presented me with an upturned sole-of-a-shoe showing that the whole sole was flapping around like a [insert something witty and flap-like here - like other people can write that makes me think - wtf - how did you EVER think THAT combination of random words up - is there a web site of weird things to copy and paste from? - I will try to remember to point some out to you sometime but can't even think of someone else's example now - that is how lame *I* am]. I gave him the normal speech of "Weeelllll when *I* was YOUR age and my shoes fell apart, my Grandad mended them for me and when I out grew them he took the bread knife and cut the toes off them to let me get a few more weeks of use . . . "

To be honest, all I ever say is "Weeeeelllllll whennnnnn IIIIIIIII wasssssss yourrrr aggeeeeee" and David runs from the room with his hands over his ears shouting "Lalalalalalalalalalalalalala" It is possible he may have heard that story before.

As a matter of record, when I WAS his age my Grandad DID mend shoes to keep them going for another while - it was what was done in those days. He also DID cut the toes off my *sandshoes* as they were called in that region. As far as I remember he did this once for me but I kinda exaggerate the story so as to compete with Gill's "We didn't have shoes at all." You get the game plan?

This evening I picked them up and some comment was made about "saving pennies." When that phrase is used I always flash-back to Old Pennies of the Pre-Decimalisation Time (around 1971). I used to save the Old One Pennies on a shelf under the stairs in our house. I remember spending that type of money, although it was really on it's way out by then. There were quite a few years where the two types of coin mingled together in pockets.

In an attempt to be witty I told David that Gill would remember saving pennies "when it was Old Money" but she got a quip in about me having more opportunity to save . . . and back and forwards it went for a few moments with me feeling like a not-very-funny heckler. David raised an eyebrow and asked me what on earth we were talking about so I told him that I used to save Old Money to which he asked "What? Like Roman Money?"

Out numbered and out smarted, I left.

If you would like two children, you can pick them up next door for sixpence and thruppence a-piece.

It is my great pleasure to announce that my mate Nik has a new girl. I am particularly delighted to announce this because I know how much he has been drooling over her and for how long, too. I think he may be in love this time (although it is pretty probable that he was last time too. . . . . . )

I am just so happy for him - am sitting here squeeing over some photos he has uploaded of her. Would you please, if you care about me at all, go and look at the photos? I think you will agree she was worth the wait. I don't think that potato sack did her any favours at all and I am glad to see he managed to get a few strokes in before bedtime. . .

We were watching a program that had Katie Melua singing on it when Iain started to sing along. . .

"There are nine million bicycles in the gym . . . "

I swear he wasn't winding me up . . .

Summary: It is a cold winter day. Grace and her best friend Judith go for a ride with their horses, but a terrible accident changes her life forever. A truck hits them, Judith and her horse are killed, while Grace and her horse Pilgrim are seriously injured, both physically and mentally. In an attempt to bring Pilgrim back from his now savage condition, Grace's mother Annie takes them to Montana in search for Tom Booker. Tom is a "horse whisperer", a cowboy with the ability to "communicate" with horses. In the land of the Wild West Annie will change the way she sees life forever, as the wise cowboy slowly heals the souls of Pilgrim and Grace...

I finally managed to get round to watching The Horse Whisperer last night. This film seemed to be a big part of my life ten years ago when it first came out. My friend Christine, who has horses, was very much into the teachings of Monty Roberts and told me about his life, about how he applied his techniques of training horses to children too, he and his wife fostered 47 children beside their own 3 and I know that many of them were "hard-to-reach" children who benefitted from Monty's motto of "Leaving the world a better place than he found it, for horses and for people. . ." I never saw the film at that stage. It was always on my list.

It was my understanding that the film was loosely based on Monty but either I mis-remembered that or it was based on a couple of people.

I was utterly enchanted by it - I loved this film. I loved the ranch setting and the people and the horses and the lighting the whole way through and the romance aspect (as always) . . .

I am not a great fan of the later films by the (getting older looking) Robert Redford but found him to play Tom Booker as a genuine and sensitive man with a past in this one. I loved his theory that he fell in love with his first wife because "he loved her" not because it was right. He knew he was in with a chance with her when she started to look at him the same way she looked when she was playing her cello. Awww.

Kirsten Scott Thomas is an actress I usually like but in this film she blew me away. I thought she looked lovely and was totally drawn into her world and her relationship with her daughter, the young Scarlett Johansson and the blossoming friendship with Redford.

When she is *fired* from her job, presumably because she has spent too long away from it, everything seems so simple. She could leave her life behind and settle at the ranch with relative ease. I like the idea of giving everything up for a simple life. . . if you have everything you need do you still need a high powered job too?

The film did not finish the way I wanted it to. I was shocked by the end and really expected a different final scene, based on the knowledge I had of Monty Roberts and his family life. Of course, this makes it a better film but I did go to sleep upset.

SHOULD YOU?: Yes. Most definitely. If I am not the last person to see it! Yes, it is a love story but it is a beautifully filmed love story and I would recommend this one to you.

DID I?: Yes. I think the next time round this one might hold less mystique for me - there was a lot in the relationship stories that captivated me and I think I lose that the second time round in most films but I WILL be buying this dvd and I will be watching it again.

This one might be with me for a while.

For the past week Hallmark has been advertising a new series, supposedly better then Lost, called Jericho. This evening I managed to wrestle Sky off a very upset David and a pouting Jessica, who then refused to sit with me, and settled down to watch the first episode.

I can't say that I saw that much of it, what I DID see looked good, but it didn't grip me immediately the way Lost did in the first couple of episodes. It didn't help that Jessica fell UP the stairs with a glass of milk in her hands in the middle of it all then came in and out to offer me some of her Friday Sweets every few minutes. . .

THIS is why I need Sky+, to press a button and have it all recorded for me without the hysterics from the children. Will let you know if it gets watched again. . .

I finally have something on Deviantart - but I didn't put it there myself. I still think it is cool though.

O.M.G. that has got to be the worst night in the history of living in this house. The wind started up suddenly at about 2am and by 3am both Iain and I were so tired and grouchy we moved from our room to the guest room. The wind lifts the tiles (as I have told you all before) and scares the absolute crap out of me, in particular, as they lift, then ban g back down again with a thump. I worry about the whole roof being torn off and us having to live under a tarpaulin for months.

In the guest room you can hardly hear this going on at all because it isn't in the eaves, so the theory was we would get more sleep in there. We barely made it into the room with our pillows, discussing which side of the sofa bed we would sleep on (as if the side we chose would be different to the bed we had just left 2 seconds previously) before Jessica joined us. I had heard her door open and was worried what she would do when she found we weren't in our own bed. It didn't faze her at all - she just moved from one room to the next. Had that been David I am sure he would have shouted the house down - it wouldn't have occurred to him we were in another room.

She settled in beside me (never beside Iain!) and I scooped her up in my arms for cuddles. Little did she know she was my wee hot water bottle for the night! She had had a bad dream. She had dreamed a bad man with a list was collecting all the children and she was the only child left in the street. Strangely similar to my own nightmares - we must have the same fears. She said she woke up and wanted to cry but she hugged her dog Jess instead. Remember Jess? I had a fit of the giggles when she told me in all seriousness that Jess had had the exact same dream and that Jess was a psychic dreamer. Huh uh. I swear that dog is well worth the money spent on her - she has more of a personality than some people I have met!

We lay with pillows over our heads and tried to get back to sleep. As I was stuck in the middle of the other two I couldn't move without major complications. I lay singing "There were three in the bed" over and over in my head but it didn't help much. Finally after a couple of hours lying there awake I woke Jessica and told her to go back to her own bed. She got up and went without a word and I spread out in all the extra space.

I reckon I got about 4 minutes of sleep. I heard Iain getting up and going into David's room and telling him it was 8.30am - Iain normally wakes at 7.30am so looks like he slept right through!

There is an alarm clock in the guest room - I looked at it when I woke again - it was 10.14. That is a good compromise - no point in me going to work real tired huh? I got and glanced at the clock in the hall - it was exactly noon. Look - I know that Iain has a thing about keeping the clock at the wrong time - but almost two hours SLOW? wtf?

I am back in my own room now typing this and the wind has not died down any - the tiles are lifting just as frequently - somehow in the day time it isn't so bad - but still bad enough to need to get sorted and get into work for a while!

See you there.

I have had to buy and build a new set of shelves JUST for my Threadless T Shirts. There are just too many of them for my drawers or for the wardrobes - I needed some place to put them all where I can easily see which one I want to wear and, of course, take the odd photo of them!

We bought a set of plastic shelves the other day for a tenner and I assembled it tonight. The idea is that it will slip in to a small gap at the side of the wardrobe and hopefully we will be able to put some sort of wheels on it to slide the unit in and out. The theory is good - don't really know if it will work or not. The shelves are really light any way so if the wheels don't work - or if they are too dear - then it doesn't really matter.

I folded all the t shirts and colour coordinated them.

I counted them. There were 46 of them.

I took loads of photos of them then remembered there were a couple in the wash - I found four more. Somewhere at the back of my mind I knew there was one shirt that had gone a-missing and although I had searched my chest of drawers for it several times it had never resurfaced so I had one more rummage for it and HEY! FOUND IT! So I added that in too. .

And took more photos of the shirts. I put them on the computer and then realised D'OH - I was still wearing one!

I shall have to take more photos in a couple of days because there is another parcel on it's way to me soon with three more t shirts in it but this is them so far. Extra points for those of you who work out which one I was wearing today!

This means I have well over 50 t shirts now - They had a sale before Christmas and I went a little mad buying loads of ones I liked because they were so cheap - this may be it for a while now. . . . .

I have just read five six (thanks Lorna! Anyone else care to expand my count?) blogs in a row (out of about thirty) where the authors have started the entry with stating that today is Tuesday. Weirdness! I have never noticed people mentioning the day before like that, most certainly not so many in one sitting. . . What's that all about then Ted?

I can confirm. Today IS Tuesday - I know - for I was at college all day and the right people were there - had it not been Tuesday I would have seen different people!

This morning Jessica came in to use the en-suite half way through getting dressed. She had her tights and school shirt on. I pulled her into bed with me for cuddles. We love cuddles we do. She wriggled and giggled as I tickled her. Just as I got her all nice and warm she announced that she had to go because Daddy wanted her to get dressed. But she promised she would be back for more cuddles as soon as she was dressed.

I reckoned she had forgotten because a good while later she still wasn't back and I really needed to be getting up. Suddenly she burst in to the room and launched herself at me. We cuddled some more. Seemingly she hadn't been all that time getting dressed. She had been having her breakfast too. She said "I have had my breakfast, I didn't have very much so I could get back here quickly and spend more time cuddling."

Awww. . . . How sweet huh?

I reminded her that she *could* have cuddles EVERY morning. She disagreed with me.

"I couldn't have cuddles EVERY morning. I would be VERY hungry!"

Heeeee.

I have a thing about weapons. I have a thing about guns and knives and just weapons in general. I mean the pretend, toy kind. I don't like them. Never have. Don't want my children to play with them and the more I don't want them to play with them the more they want them.

I can't explain my aversion to these things - other than *ew - why would you want them?* I don't like *cap guns* for the obvious, repetitive-noise-getting-on-my-nerves reason but I particularly don't want guns of any sort in the house.

The funny thing is, I am in love with real guns, I love cowboy and western films and still drool over the yellow gloves the Cavalry wore - remember them - I still want a pair of yellow leather gloves like that . . . I spent many hours on gun ranges firing various weapons when I was younger and would LOVE to join a shooting range. My brother is in some sort of shooting team somewhere or other (yea - I paid a lot of attention there then didn't I?) and I would love it if he were to invite me to play along some day.

Guns in Shooting Clubs and Guns for Clay Pigeon Shooting - yea - that is ok. Guns in 5 year olds hands in MY FRONT GARDEN - not so keen on that sight.

When David started to go out to play with the boys in the development we quickly came to realise that Jack next door is Army mad. He has surplus weapons to hand out to his army should the troops arrive un-armed and I had to force a rule of *no guns on our property,* which, of course is totally un-enforcable so it became *no guns in our house.* That meant that any visitor to our house, when there were 5 or 6 wee lads upstairs playing XBox, would be greeted by a complete arsenal of weaponry on our doorstep because every child in the neighbourhood knew the rule and hated me for it. I know the other mummies think I am mad.

Iain thinks I am mad. I get no support in my "banning of items" and at every turn he goes behind my back and winks at David while buying him yet another plastic "Policeman Gun, Badge and Real Handcuffs with Two Keys and Walkie Talkie" set which at the grand price of £3.99 is going to last forever isn't it?

We have the rule now that if I see any lying about the place it must be because David doesn't want them any more and they need to be put in the bin. I don't see many these days.

On Christmas Day we arrived round at Nanna's to meet up with the rest of the family to find that Iain's 15 year old nephew had been given a BB gun as a present by his Dad. I was totally appalled. The thing you have to remember here is that this child has a mental age of around 9 or 10 - the gun is not to be used by anyone under the age of 18. I wasn't amused. How do you explain to David NO HE FECKING CANT GO INTO THE GARDEN WITH THE BB GUN WITH HIS WEE SISTER FOR TARGET PRACTICE. . . . NOW do you see my point??

So. There is the background to my story.

This afternoon I was in my en-suite, doing what you do in an en-suite. Well, actually, I was sorting through hundreds of photography magazines and putting into magazine holders as I use our shower as a bookcase. . . that is another story all together. Let me know if you want to hear it. (The Mac Mags aren't in this photo and there are the same number of photography ones on the floor still to be sorted out.)

David had just run outside to see if Jack was coming round to play XBox when the most almighty, screaming, terrifying, ear-piercing, heart-pounding sobbing started to bounce round the walls. David came running into the en-suite with blood pouring out of his mouth and down his chin and all over his fleece. I mean POURING! MY first thought was that he had tripped and knocked a tooth out but after cleaning it up and cuddling him (not too close - Dude - New Favourite Hoodie!!!) I realised that it was just a split lip. A very bad, sore looking, split lip.

I think he was a little alarmed by the amount of blood that was ebbing away and it took a minute of two to calm him down enough to get a story out of him.

He had been running round to Jack's with his Lightsaber in his hand. It was (I can't think of a better word) erect. As he ran he used one hand to push it to it's closed position but it didn't lock into place and immediately sprang fully again with a lot of force, making contact with his lower lip.

You know when you find something totally hilarious but you absolutely know that you can not betray that emotion, on pain of death? Well I tried not to snigger and I think I got away with it. Three times he told me that story in the bathroom.

Then when Daddy got home we had him reenact it with the would-be murder weapon, in slow motion, and I know that there were tears coming from Iain as he bit his lip not to laugh. My chest was heaving. As I snorted once. Or twice.

Ok, so it was funny,

Not as funny as when David turned round and said, "You know, this was very very painful and really children shouldn't be allowed weapons like this - people could get very badly hurt. I blame whoever bought this for me." He cast an accusatory eye around the room, focusing on me for a millisecond as I raised an eyebrow at him in a "Don't even THINK ABOUT IT BUSTER," way, then swivelled on round to look at Iain, pointing, "DADDY!"

See? SEE? Think of the damage a plastic knife could have done! Or the handcuffs?! OR, God forbid, THE BADGE!

So. There are two stories here.

One is the visit to Storm Cinema in the Oddysey in Belfast and one is the movie report itself. I have seen quite a few movies recently and just have been too busy to write them up. Keep watching for reviews of Night At The Museum, Happy Feet and have I done Casino Royale yet? Can't remember! If you are very lucky I will share with you my passion for the series Green Wing too. OMG I love that series!

This afternoon was the first time I have been to the Storm Cinema since the new booking system has been put in place. There is no longer a dedicated section of tills for buying your tickets - every till is multi-tasking as food and drink outlets AND tickets. It seems that this has been in place since the end of July at least - but I haven't seen it before. I didn't like it. There are no signs up to explain the new system and when I inquired about where to buy tickets I got a *any of those tills* and a shrug. I suppose theory is that, as a customer, you have only one queue to stand in rather than two, and I can see the logic in this but in practice it doesn't work well.

I wanted to buy my tickets at 3pm for the 5pm showing so I could go to a restaurant in the meantime. I had to queue for ages behind people wanting food. There really ought to be a *Ticket Only* queue. THEN I had to queue again for my popcorn later. Only about 3 or 4 tills were open and there was a considerable queue forming.

N'uh!

My advice would be to book ahead - there are machines on the left hand side as you enter (again - VERY poorly signposted) and I think I would go that way next time.

On the other hand - I do like Storm. They are a little more expensive than my local cinema but the seats and view of the screen are much better. I considered the VIP lounge this afternoon but decided against it on cost grounds - in the end there were less than 20 people in the whole cinema anyway. It is a good idea, bearing in mind my total inability to accept other people making noise in the same room as me while I am trying to concentrate then the VIP room makes total sense to me. At a tenner a head, though, it is a tad pricey if you are forking out for a meal as well which is the main reason you would go to the Odyssey - to double up on a meal and the cinema.

Maybe next time. . .

Jacqui and I went to see The Holiday. I have mixed thoughts about it. There are some logistical things that annoy me in movies and this had a couple of them in it.

Two totally unrelated girls are having a hard time in their romantic and personal lives and hey presto, without any kind of vetting of each other at all they arrange to swap houses, managing to pack and leave within 24 hours. Nope - I couldn't pack THAT quickly! Not even for a weekend away never mind two weeks!

It does have similarities to other films running through it - one that springs to mind is Bridget Jones - Kate Winslet's character is in love with her cad-of-an-ex and needs to get away from him. Cameron Diaz's character has just broken up with her man and needs to get away from her stressful life - they swap houses and fall in love with the men they find at their new residences. . .

I enjoyed Kate's acting and character much more than Cameron's - I just never believed her - she seemed to be acting over the top most of the time taking poor Jude Law with her, whereas Kate was much more steady. I suppose Cameron was portraying someone mentally burned out but it didn't work for me. My big surprise was that I really enjoyed Jack Black - I have never really seen enough of him before to form an opinion of him - but I did like him in this. His girlfriend here was also the girlfriend - Erica- in 40 Days and 40 Nights which I loved her in and which is one of the funniest films ever.

Where did they leave their keys? Both the girls approach the new houses and kinda just walk in. Didn't they know they were supposed to leave keys under the flower pots on the front door step?

How does the insurance work when you swap cars like that? Surely it takes a while to sort out insurance cover for someone else's car. . . in another country. . . it took us about a week to get a cover note for our own car when the registration number changed recently - how do they get cover overnight?

Jacqui pointed out something that had annoyed me too - although Jude Law was portrayed as being a fine upstanding citizen by sleeping over at his sister's house when he had a little too much to drink, Cameron is *allowed* to walk around the local shop swigging from a bottle of wine and then driving home. Jack Black also enjoyed an evening of drinking and then walked towards his car in the driveway in a "I am about to drive home" kinda way. . . Is this an American thing or am I nit-picking?

If the car driver couldn't drive down the lane at the beginning of the movie because he wouldn't be able to turn at the end - how come the next time we see him he has not only driven down the lane but was facing in the correct direction?

If Cameron couldn't walk down th