Monday, 10 September 2007


Phew, here we are another Monday almost over and boy did I need to get back to work for a rest.

Husband and number 1 son departed 7am Friday for a cricket tour encompassing Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire.

So faced with the prospect of a weekend of housework and keeping the remaining 4 offspring occupied, I decided we would have an adventure of our own. So Saturday we took ourselves North to see some friends and family. Even managed to fit in some retail therapy at one of those outlet villages. Now I know why husband chooses to remain in Norfolk - its to keep me a healthy distance away from such sources of temptation.

Late Sunday afternoon we travelled to the lovely Bakewell to meet up with the intrepid cricketers, who were, by now looking decidedly tired and emotional. Husband is a postie so needed to be at work at 5am so I drove him home, leaving my biggest boy to roll in at gone 2am....

So with all this travelling and a potty training 2 year old, I am shattered.

Daughter decided on Thursday that she'd had enough of nappies and that she was using her potty now. Consequently I find myself saying "do you want your pot" in my sleep, at work to unsuspecting temps and whilst walking down the street to complete strangers. Well, I am sure you will get my drift. Its hard not to become a little obsessed. Totally biased I may be but the daughter is an endearing little thing and when she leaps off her pot, so proud of doing a wee that she gives herself a round of applause, it does make you smile somewhat. I guess its a hazzard of having 4 adoring big brothers that she is used to unquestioning approvable....... Oh dear, I pity the fellow who, in years to come, decides to take her on..........................

Too tired to talk more. Talk soon....................

Sunday, 2 September 2007


Am sitting here on a Sunday evening after another manic weekend devoted entirely to cricket.

Friday evening was Presentation Night - a few games for the kids, a few beers for the grown ups. All very convivial. Number 4 son got a player of the year award for his age group. Have to admit husband and I looked at each other in shear amazement. We know he's keen but in all honesty with work, other commitments and coaching the older lads, we haven't seen him play. Was chuffed to bits for him.

Saturday morning was more games for the kids, lunch was laid on by all the parents so copious amounts of eggy sandwiches had to be provided. The afternoon was a Presidents eleven against the home side. Wasn't the most competitive of games and when husband shouted "drinks" to me, I don't think the reply of "southern comfort" was the one he expected! Again a pleasant time was had by all.

The evening brought Race Night. Now horse racing leaves me cold, just don't get it. Perhaps it is further proof of my pleb background that the sport of kings just isn't my bag. However, having bet 50p on some random nag my competitive streak emerged with avengence. Lost every bloody race - even my 13 year old son was more successful. (Note to self, ensure all online gambling sites are blocked!)

So to Sunday morning and an under 9's soft ball competion between some local sides. Our first opportunity to witness number 4 son displaying his prowess..... Well the boy done good. Bowling is a bit dodgy (lollipops was the verdict of those in the know), fielding was definitely enthusiastic (lots of green stains to be "Ace'd") but it was the batting that really caught the eye. My little chunk really looks the part. Has that childish desire to hit every ball into the middle of next week, or rather the cow field next to the ground but hey, the bare bones are there. Was so proud.

Onto the afternoon when the side that number one son plays in were in the under 17's final. Now even with my maternal rose tinted glasses on I know that he's no Freddie Flintoff but, having had a "stroke" at the age of 18 months, to see him play any sport at any level is enough to reduce me to a sobbing wreck so today was fairly momentous. Of course, they lost...... As a team they played pretty well apart from one brainless oik who decided to run three of his team mates out and destroy any chance of chasing a total that, thanks to the batsmen higher up the order, was imminently achievable. Bitter me, no!!!! Did I forget to mention that number 1 son was one of the oik's victims. Cricket is a bloody silly game and I can never see it catching on!!