Ah, English Summer Fetes. What a beautifully eclectic variety of weekend entertainment. From the gently frustrating Hook-a-Duck, the aggression venting Splat-the-Rat, the pocket fleecing raffle (none of the prizes you actually want to win but you still buy a mass of tickets anyway) and the Teddy Bear Rocket Launcher. All the old favourites. But, wait, what was that? Teddy Bear Rocket launcher??? Yes. Yes, my friends, you read that correctly. There is a new stall in the village (well the neighbouring one to be precise) where your child’s teddy gets the opportunity of a lifetime – to become an astronaut. Yes. I know. Continue reading “Little Bear’s Space Adventures”
Not so much the Tiger Who Came to Tea as the Wolf!
Do you know how much a copy of The Beano is these days?
£2.50!!!!
Yes, I know.
That’s £2.50! AND it’s still issued weekly! Continue reading “The Beano and the Great Pocket Money Renumeration Challenge”
A child’s active creativity begins at a very early age. Practically from birth we encourage them to connect with the human beings who surround them. We convince ourselves that their poo face is actually an expression of delight. We marvel at how clever they are when they chew on the corner of the rug, or when they manage to pull themselves to standing.
Continue reading “Build ’em up. Knock ’em down. Brick Live!”
T made fabulous muffins and pink lemonade, then couldn’t resist sneaking one whilst I took the photo! Naughty little minx.
Last year, when high on the emotion of our prodigal return to the UK, I agreed to go on a week’s holiday with my brother, and his family, and my parents. Self Catering. In Devon. All together. One big happy family!
We have just returned from this ‘holiday’ happily in one piece and even more remarkably we are all still speaking to each other. How did we manage this amazing feat? Well, let me tell you…
Continue reading “How to Survive an Extended Family Holiday”
My children have become really anti-social. They don’t talk to me, apart from the odd grunt, and they barely even look at me. They aren’t teenagers and I don’t actually mind. Why?
They are reading. On their own. ALL the time.
As a parent, in fact as a human being, we get to wear a lot of different hats in our lives. I don’t mean actual hats of course but, oh crappit, the latest hat that I find myself wearing is one that I never, ever, in my wildest nightmares thought that I would ever, EVER wear.
I appear to have volunteered (yes I have brought it on myself people) to be the Chair of the school PTA. Shit (sorry but these desperate times demand the use of an expletive, apologies). Continue reading “Not a PTA Mum?”
Sheets, a clothes airer and a load of cushions. It doesn’t take much to convert a pile of soft furnishings into a castle, or a cave, or a spaceship or a fairy glade.
What is it about sitting cocooned between a cushion and a pillow in a blanket cave that makes this the ultimate place to read a book or share a secret or two? The majority of dens we have built in the Life of Ryrie have been in the most public of places of our home; the sitting room or the hall where eavesdroppers are abound. Yet the children remain convinced that what goes on in the den, what’s said in the den, stays in the den.
Life of Ryrie 