Tattie Holidays Week 1

After kicking off to a good start (!), the rest of the first week of the Tattie Holidays followed a very similar pattern: get up early, get Maxi and Midi fed and dressed and driven to gymnastics, then kill 2 hours with Mini. Every. Single. Day.

On Day 2 of the holidays we spent the 2 hours walking up and down the hill a few times. Well, I didn’t think to bring a snack and drink for Maxi and Midi (oops. Kids get hungry and thirsty when they’re running around doing handstands for 2 hours. Who knew…?) so had to go find a shop, buy some food and water, and fetch them back. Then I treated myself Mini to a milkshake and a cake at a local cafe at the end of another walk back up the hill. Well, my excuse was that the weather was still too minging to go to the playground or do anything properly fun. Honest.

On Day 3 of the holidays the library was open, so I spent 90 minutes reading Mini stories. The librarian interrupted a few times to try to strike up a chat, but I found that incredibly rude (was Mini invisible or something? Was my ‘conversation’ with my little girl so unimportant that it didn’t count?), so kept on with my story-telling. Maybe she couldn’t handle any more of the way I tell stories…?

leaf crunchingOn Day 4 the sun shone for a whole 45 minutes, so I dragged Mini along the sea shore. She really wasn’t interested in enjoying the sunshine or looking at the seagulls or spotting possible forage-worthy fruits. I did manage to tempt her with leaf-crunching and mud-puddle-squelching, though.

Our entire haul. Might make a molecule of jam.

Our entire haul. Might make a molecule of jam.

On Day 5 I dressed Mini in waterproofs and let her run riot in the playground next to the sports centre. I even managed to catch a little bit of Maxi and Midi’s gymnastics. Watching Maxi doing a kind of cheerleading routine on the beam was quite something – my baby… able to balance… and do things that I can’t! I’m glad I didn’t see her do a supported handstand on the beam or I’d probably have cried.

We got up to stuff in the afternoons as well: thanks to saving up every single one of my Tesco clubcard vouchers since the Year Dot, we’d stashed away enough virtual money to pay for half a tv. So on Wednesday (Day 3) I picked up a new-fangled flat tv – apparently no-one sells cathode-ray box type tvs any more. Wow! This thing picks up iPlayer and 4OD! In’t technology brilliant?!

So while the minxes rested for an hour post-lunch in front of the on-demand TV (we can’t get live TV, and I’ve no interest in getting it), I got on with my almost-maniacal chopping and resewing of fleece throws into clothing for the kids. I’ll do a separate post of the things made so you can have a good laugh too, but in the spirit of a tricky school holiday, here’s a Facebook status update from that week:

I’m using fabric paint to draw patterns on fleece to form a non-slip surface for the slipper-socks I’m sewing my 3 daughters. The nozzle got clogged. I poked it with a safety pin. That didn’t clear the blockage. I shaked it. That didn’t work. I used brute force and squeezed the nozzle as hard as I could. That worked! Oh boy, that worked… It exploded! So I now have neon pink, glow in the dark, permanent, wash-proof paint over the fleece bits, over the table, over my sewing machine, over my hair, over my posh cashmere sweater, over the carpet…

<sob>
 <also seeing the funny side>

I was discovering pink blobs for days afterwards. At least it scraped off the windows; can’t say the same for my lovely posh jumper…

The offending paint, and the mess it made on just one of the fleece scraps. PS my hair isn't pale yellow anymore: it's blue

The offending paint, and the mess it made on just one of the fleece scraps. PS my hair isn’t pale yellow anymore: it’s blue

So after a frenzied clean-up, I was really impressed (!) when Killer Cat tried to escape outside via the chimney for the 4th time. Yep, sooty clouds of muck everywhere. Will she ever be even grey again, never mind her natural pure-white?! On the bright side, I didn’t need to get the chimney swept before I lit a fire. I don’t know what the attraction is with the chimney, especially because she gets out whenever she wants, now – we relented a wee while ago because neither Killer nor Foster Cat were adapting well to becoming indoor felines, so we let them out regardless of the 70mph dual carriageway at the bottom of the garden. Was a mouse hiding up there? I wonder, because one of the cats is leaving dead rodents at the back door every single day (brown and black and grey mice and a vole or 2. And one small bird) and the mouse trap in the kitchen caught a mouse. Pity I didn’t know about it until the smell pervaded the room, days later…

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