Thursday 6 Sep 2012
Monday was Midi Minx’s first day full-time in school. Both me and Mini were missing her dreadfully, rattling about this quiet house on our own. So we decided to do Mini’s favourite thing: go on a picnic.
I’d been threatening to go out cycling with Mini for a while, so The Boss had checked my old bike over, pulled out helmets for us both, a neon-bright bag cover, waterproofs and extra packed-lunch boxes. Blimey, you’d think he didn’t trust me to find them myself! Then again, maybe he’s frightened of the mess of the garage if I’d gotten frustrated looking for something in vain?
(I wonder if it’s under here..? I’ll just put that carefully over there… Nope. What about under this? I’ll put it on the pile… Nope. Hell. What about under here? I’ll just chuck that over there… Nope. Bloody hell! Ok, let’s throw that stupid thing over here, and that pointless thing over there, then I might be able to see… Argh! Why is my life so cluttered?! I’ll just kick that pile over… Oh that feels better… I’ll go stamp on that… Grrrrr! I’m so ANGRY!! Why can’t I find a stupid bicycle pump?! NggggAAARGH! <crunch, rage=”” stomp,=””>)
Although I could chop up scabby dog, add a boiled egg, call it ‘picnic’ and the minxes would eat and enjoy it, I made a bit of an effort today: tuna sandwiches, little BabyBels, tiny bottles of water, cherries, “stobs” (strawberries). And boiled eggs. Add a change of clothes, a few nappy changes, a ton of tissues and we’re ready. And we’re not… back to get Mini dressed a bit more warmly – it may be the start of September, but that breeze is nippy!
We cycled the 2 miles to Roseisle with Mini complaining bitterly the whole way about how bumpy the ground was. Talk about Princess and the Pea! My bike is a Cadillac of a big old bike; I rode on the smoothest bits of the path; Mini was wearing thick trousers and a nappy. Hmph! She had some fun stomping around when we got to the beach, but the tide was in and I’d stupidly not put her in wellies – her little Doodles would be pointless in wet sand. My idea of walking about barefoot didn’t appeal to her, and I didn’t fancy her hanging around too long beside an area that a previous toddler’s lazy parent had left a used nappy at (there are hundreds of bins and a few skips not 50 yards away. If someone is too lazy to take a nappy to a bin, I wonder what else they’re too lazy to do?)
We checked out the playground just back from the shore, as there were a few new things. Predictably, Mini was only interested in climbing up the cargo net and whooshing down the slide. And again. And again…
After half an hour, it was time to go home. It was fine, until I realised that I’d missed my turn-off. My (crappy) navigational sense told me that I could nip off any of the tracks to the right to eventually hit the main 60mph road into the village, or I could go straight ahead to finally end up down by the caravan site. But would any of the tracks go over the old railway line at a bit I could cycle over? Or were they all tiny, rough, and for people on foot only? I decided to go on to the caravan site. And brave all the sand across the track that helped me do some alarming, crazy skids. Mini thought they were a lot of fun; I didn’t.
We popped out much later at the caravan site, squeezed through some posts either site of the path with barely an inch to spare, up past the school, which Mini waved wildly at, and home. Where she completed failed to have a nap
Tuesday was a write-off because I had to finish a knitting order, and with winds gusting over 50mph, I didn’t fancy dragging my littlest minx out in it, other than for a short half-hour caterpillar-cull in the brussels sprouts, cabbages and broccoli (I’m still squashing 40 – 50 every 2 or 3 days, in a piece of ground 4ft x 4ft).
On Wednesday, I decided that Mini’s cold was better enough for us to go swimming and start getting her used to the pool again. Well, after 15 minutes of her prancing around at the edge of the pool, I tried to get her more engaged. How about splashing Mummy? Nope. What about watering my blue swimming cap? Nope (I need to wear a cap at the pool because my hair is newly blue again and I don’t fancy leaving a river of blue semi-permanent dye everywhere I go…) What about the chute? The floats? Armbands? Your float vest? Watering can? Nothing. Until Aqua Aerobics started, and suddenly Mini decided it was a lot of fun to leopard crawl on her belly to surreptitiously spy on the old ladies, then slither back to the little pool to bounce up and down in the water in time to the music. Ah, well – it’s a start!