Ever chased a butterfly with a sweeping brush?

Well I have.

An evil Cabbage White has been attempting to reproduce on my sprout plants. (This by the way, just in case you're wondering, isn't some peculiar double entendre.) So, I've been chasing it away. I don't think it has noticed. And really, I can't bring myself to kill it. I am so lame as the kids would say.

Also I found Slugzilla munching on one of my lettuces last night (yet again, this is not some code word for deviant practices) and what did I do? Dunk it in a nearby water filled pot? Stomp on it? No, I put it in the bin and wished it good luck.



That said I had no qualms spraying the courgette plants to kill the Whiteflies.

But that's okay cause everyone knows they're bastards.

Ever chased a butterfly with a sweeping brush?

Well I have.

An evil Cabbage White has been attempting to reproduce on my sprout plants. (This by the way, just in case you're wondering, isn't some peculiar double entendre.) So, I've been chasing it away. I don't think it has noticed. And really, I can't bring myself to kill it. I am so lame as the kids would say.

Also I found Slugzilla munching on one of my lettuces last night (yet again, this is not some code word for deviant practices) and what did I do? Dunk it in a nearby water filled pot? Stomp on it? No, I put it in the bin and wished it good luck.



That said I had no qualms spraying the courgette plants to kill the Whiteflies.

But that's okay cause everyone knows they're bastards.

Borders Closing...

Did you know that Borders book shop in Blanchardstown is closing down? And that they have 50% off EVERYTHING?

Apparently the world and her wife were aware of this, and queueing, arms laden with books, books, books, like desperate parents at Christmas?

We happened across this scene yesterday quite by accident while we were meant to be buying an air mattress and some other stuff that soon got forgotten as the lure of cheap books proved irresistible.

I went quite wild.

I dumped the Oubliette juniors next to the Secret Seven aisle and with a mutter of 'Be Good' I ran off to pile high my trolley. Here's what I bought...

Wendy Cope poetry collections by 2
'Frugal Food' - Delia Smith cook book
'Simple Scrapbooking' craft book
The Seasonal Kitchen Garden
Schotts Almanac

I then handed the pile over to Hubbie Oubliette and pottered off to Home Store and More to replace a denby saucer that son had broken last week (All Denby, half price this July!)

What struck me though, when looking through the pile of books as we headed home (after a magical mystery tour through rural Clonee looking for a man with free Leek seedlings. Don't ask.) was that these five books really rather summed me up.

Pretty much all of my conversations will touch on one of the subjects above. Writing. Food. Scrapbooking. Vegetable growing. Useless Trivia.

I'd rather not debate exactly how glamorous and exciting this list makes me sound, but here's a challenge - what five books would sum you up?

And by the way - Borders will be open until the 9th of August, so get your bargains while you can!



(oh yeah, and when I remember to mention to DublinDave that he's up for a guest posting, I'll be sure to bring it to you all asap :)

Borders Closing...

Did you know that Borders book shop in Blanchardstown is closing down? And that they have 50% off EVERYTHING?

Apparently the world and her wife were aware of this, and queueing, arms laden with books, books, books, like desperate parents at Christmas?

We happened across this scene yesterday quite by accident while we were meant to be buying an air mattress and some other stuff that soon got forgotten as the lure of cheap books proved irresistible.

I went quite wild.

I dumped the Oubliette juniors next to the Secret Seven aisle and with a mutter of 'Be Good' I ran off to pile high my trolley. Here's what I bought...

Wendy Cope poetry collections by 2
'Frugal Food' - Delia Smith cook book
'Simple Scrapbooking' craft book
The Seasonal Kitchen Garden
Schotts Almanac

I then handed the pile over to Hubbie Oubliette and pottered off to Home Store and More to replace a denby saucer that son had broken last week (All Denby, half price this July!)

What struck me though, when looking through the pile of books as we headed home (after a magical mystery tour through rural Clonee looking for a man with free Leek seedlings. Don't ask.) was that these five books really rather summed me up.

Pretty much all of my conversations will touch on one of the subjects above. Writing. Food. Scrapbooking. Vegetable growing. Useless Trivia.

I'd rather not debate exactly how glamorous and exciting this list makes me sound, but here's a challenge - what five books would sum you up?

And by the way - Borders will be open until the 9th of August, so get your bargains while you can!



(oh yeah, and when I remember to mention to DublinDave that he's up for a guest posting, I'll be sure to bring it to you all asap :)

So long and thanks for all the crazy

So, we're watching the Michael Jackson memorial last night. One of the one billion (apparently) world wide who did. I haven't been loosing too much sleep over the demise of the great wacko one, but felt, a bit like dear ol' Di, this would be a fun funeral/memorial to watch.

The Oubliette kids of course weren't happy to have me switch over from Nickelodeon, it is the summer after all, eight weeks of telly and only breaking to sleep. (Feel free to call social services.) I explained that it was a funeral type thingy for this guy who was a great musician. Senior child was all interested until I corrected him and said , 'No, musician, not magician.'

Younger son pottered off, I'm amazed he still had the use of his legs from all the sitting on the sofa, I'd begun to think they'd atrophied. Who knows where he went or what he was up to. He was quiet and that's generally enough for me.

Older son stayed.

The memorial began and was enjoyable in exactly the tacky ghoulish way I expected. But about fifteen minutes in I hear this sobbing. I look over at 8 year old son on the sofa and he's got a cushion to his face and is bawling. Being the sensitive type that I am, I asked him what the matter was.

"The telly, its soooooooooo sad!" he wailed.

This from the child who'd never heard of Michael Jackson twenty minutes earlier. I had also mentioned that Jackson may have done 'bad things to kids' while he was alive. This didn't seem to matter anymore.

But I shouldn't really have been surprised. This son of mine once had an emotional meltdown when he discovered a hole in his sock.

That said, he is a peculiar child, because other times you could tell him that 1) you'd ritually sacrificed his pet hamster in pursuit of a black magic ritual to wither the drawing arm of all the Ben 10 cartoonists and 2) you'd firebombed the entire Domino Pizzas chain - and he'd barely bat an eyelid.

Well, anyway, yesterday was obviously a 'the world is a cruel cruel place' sorta day.

Being a not entirely uncaring mother I gathered the weeping mess into my arms and tried to cheer him up. I thought telling him the silly names of the kids would do the trick. So, I told him about the two boys with the same name, Prince Michael and Prince Michael II. I threatened to rename his brother so they'd both have the same name. Didn't work. So, I thought hey, 'Blanket' is a really silly nickname, that's bound to jolly him out of his wailing and gnashing of teeth.

What did he say?

'Blanket?' SOB. 'That's so cute!!"

WAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL.

Sigh.

Then I got a bit annoyed at him.

Thankfully his father came home at this point and distracted him.

I can only thank the good Lord in his heaven above that we didn't keep watching till poor little Paris spoke. Even I was touched by that. What if son had seen it? We'd probably have had to take his shoe laces away.


(Coming Soon : Next blog posting will be a guest posting from The Talent Mr DublinDave)

So long and thanks for all the crazy

So, we're watching the Michael Jackson memorial last night. One of the one billion (apparently) world wide who did. I haven't been loosing too much sleep over the demise of the great wacko one, but felt, a bit like dear ol' Di, this would be a fun funeral/memorial to watch.

The Oubliette kids of course weren't happy to have me switch over from Nickelodeon, it is the summer after all, eight weeks of telly and only breaking to sleep. (Feel free to call social services.) I explained that it was a funeral type thingy for this guy who was a great musician. Senior child was all interested until I corrected him and said , 'No, musician, not magician.'

Younger son pottered off, I'm amazed he still had the use of his legs from all the sitting on the sofa, I'd begun to think they'd atrophied. Who knows where he went or what he was up to. He was quiet and that's generally enough for me.

Older son stayed.

The memorial began and was enjoyable in exactly the tacky ghoulish way I expected. But about fifteen minutes in I hear this sobbing. I look over at 8 year old son on the sofa and he's got a cushion to his face and is bawling. Being the sensitive type that I am, I asked him what the matter was.

"The telly, its soooooooooo sad!" he wailed.

This from the child who'd never heard of Michael Jackson twenty minutes earlier. I had also mentioned that Jackson may have done 'bad things to kids' while he was alive. This didn't seem to matter anymore.

But I shouldn't really have been surprised. This son of mine once had an emotional meltdown when he discovered a hole in his sock.

That said, he is a peculiar child, because other times you could tell him that 1) you'd ritually sacrificed his pet hamster in pursuit of a black magic ritual to wither the drawing arm of all the Ben 10 cartoonists and 2) you'd firebombed the entire Domino Pizzas chain - and he'd barely bat an eyelid.

Well, anyway, yesterday was obviously a 'the world is a cruel cruel place' sorta day.

Being a not entirely uncaring mother I gathered the weeping mess into my arms and tried to cheer him up. I thought telling him the silly names of the kids would do the trick. So, I told him about the two boys with the same name, Prince Michael and Prince Michael II. I threatened to rename his brother so they'd both have the same name. Didn't work. So, I thought hey, 'Blanket' is a really silly nickname, that's bound to jolly him out of his wailing and gnashing of teeth.

What did he say?

'Blanket?' SOB. 'That's so cute!!"

WAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL.

Sigh.

Then I got a bit annoyed at him.

Thankfully his father came home at this point and distracted him.

I can only thank the good Lord in his heaven above that we didn't keep watching till poor little Paris spoke. Even I was touched by that. What if son had seen it? We'd probably have had to take his shoe laces away.


(Coming Soon : Next blog posting will be a guest posting from The Talent Mr DublinDave)