Hmm plenty of tumbleweed on this here blog. Again I have been nudged into action. This time by the lovely Womb for Improvement.
Well it is Persian Now Ruz so new year, new blogging vim and verve. I was discussing new year with my mother yesterday. Between us we have managed most of the 7 things beginning with s you are supposed to have to mark the new year. Kind of. They are supposed to be displayed on a beautiful cloth on an attractive table. Apple (seeb) in fruit bowl, bottle of vinegar (serkeh) under the sink, elderly garlic bulb (seer) by the cooker etc is not exactly doing it as it should be. But what the hell if the 100% Persian can't do it I dont feel too bad having managed over 50% being only half of the real thing. And no I didn't manage the painted eggs supposedly lovingly made by the kids, or the goldfish or the home grown sprouting wheat to be symbolically thrown in a river in a week or so time. Nor did we do the huge spring clean and buying of gifts either. So shoot me. I am about as good at Now Ruz as I am at blogging.
What else? OK kids, work, house. A quick canter through those.
Boy 2 is would you believe it now 1. Where did that time go? He remains adorable. He has all the Persian genes and has gone gorgeously brown by being in the sun for a whole 5 mins at the weekend. He has a suitable no of teeth and is almost walking. No reliable words. Otherwise generally as you would expect for his age. Boy 1 is ludicrously tall (no really, off the charts tall) and gangly and dances like a loon. Still not at school yet but taller than some 7 year olds. At some point this is going to be a serious disadvantage as people assume maturity he certainly does not have but at the moment he cares not a jot. Girl is 7 going on 17. She was let loose in Primark with her father and given a tenner. She returned with a "leather" jacket lined in leopard, pixie boots with straps and a frilly black vest top all of which she wants to wear constantly. She flounces and storms off like the best of them.
I have been back at work since October. It is ghastly in parts. People we have been killing ourselves for have decided they hate us. They decide that the best way to tell us about this is to have a great long list of perceived faults that they dont tell us about until the end of the financial year. This is when we send out stupid surveys asking people whether they love us at which point we get a torrent of bile. This needless to say comes as a bit of a shock. Interestingly a bunch of these people's colleagues think we are splendid and totally marvellous - not sure how we can be both that and totally crap. This doesn't make for a happy working environment as too much time is spent sitting in rooms and swearing at the injustice of it all. Add to that the fact that we aren't allowed to recruit to fill yawning gaps and that we have resorted to buying our own bloody pens thanks to the cuts the workforce is a tad disillusioned. Doesn't help that they will get no pay rise for the foreseeable. Shame that only bankers are considered worthy of being motivated by money.
Anyway to get over the grimness and ghastliness of the Coalition we are spending every last penny supporting some builders from Essex who are currently tearing our house apart and rebuilding it. We have decamped a portion of our belongings and ourselves to a flat around the corner and watch with slight horror as walls are removed and the house is apparently supported on thin air. A mini excavator has taken up residence in the back garden and the eldest boy is dreaming of Bob the Builder moments. It had better be the thing of beauty the architect has promised when they finish as this whole thing is somewhat stressful. Of course there is one good lesson from all this which it is entirely possible to live totally satisfactorily with only a quarter of your stuff. Makes me wonder what the containers in Chelmsford actually contain that we really need. Oh and it is also possible to live without tv too much to my surprise.
Despite my despair at my new overlords I have been doing a bit of Big Socie.ty type stuff with maternity services locally and making a right nuisance of myself by showing up on committees etc. I think I provide a useful counterpoint to the usual lay involvement which is from doulas and NCT evangelicals - look over here for cheerleading on highly medicalised conception and gestation.
So there you are. A blog. No pictures I'm afraid as a) we still after over 2 weeks here have no bloody broadband so are using a super expensive mobile gongley thingy and 2) my Mac is in storage with all my pics on it and 3) the husband is in the States for the week and I can't work out where the pics are on his. Next time.