Bear wears a vest

Bear has Views.  Last year I couldn't get him into a vest at gunpoint.  To be fair to bear, last year's winter was warm, their school is an exceptionally warm place, the house is never that icy and the distance between home and school is very short indeed.  I didn't bother buying vests this year.

Yesterday bear was very disappointed at my failure, as a mother, to provide vests.  You know, the things I couldn't force him in to last year.  The white things that he avoided like the plague.  The clothing equivalent of torture.  Today he went into school wearing the last vest that still fitted him and a martyred expression.

Fortunately, ebay is my friend.  Six vests are on their way.

To be honest, I can't say I blame him for wanting to wear comfort clothing.  It has been quite brisk here, even in our sheltered spot, and this morning was very damp indeed.  I would say that today is the worst school run for weather since bear started back in September.  It wasn't a bad school run, though, or a miserable one.  I saw a very stately heron in the beck this morning and I was struck by its elegance and poise - and its size!  The small brown bird that flew crossly over the path as I got home was very small indeed, smaller than the average sparrow.  I've googled images of wrens and it is plausible, and there are lots of dense bits of bramble and hawthorn around so I suppose it could be.  It was such a contrast - the large, stately, aristocratic heron and the small, irritated, ruffled brown bird with extra attitude.  I got absolutely drenched dropping bear off at school but I was smiling when I got in.

Bonfire Night

Father insisted we took money out and got fireworks, large quantities of them and extra rockets.  So I hid in the house and bear and DH had fun.  The remains are still scattered all over the garden.  Bear of course recorded the occasion.  I think it was too dark for the video to work properly but father will get to see all the photos on Saturday.

The people at the back were playing loud music at 2am this morning.  I was incredibly unimpressed.  As they don't make a habit of it, I am okayish, but if I had had a voodoo doll handy at 2am someone would be walking with a limp.  DH has had a few bad nights and it is incredibly unfair on him.

At some point I am going to have to sort out the freezer of doom.  I am going to throw away anything I consider a bit iffy.  If I am going to constantly be looking at stuff and pulling a face and putting it back all I have is small, frozen, ugly, useless ornaments.  I want the space.  As it is I have only a faint idea of what is in there, and I want to defrost and stock up for Christmas.

Off to find out if IKEA meatballs are gluten free.

Not throwing things out

I have been flinging things with abandon.  I've just got rid of so much.  The bin sacks and boxes are piling up in the garden and I have a few bits for the charity shop starting to mount up again after the last big push.

I was looking closer at two things today.  One was a large sack of embroidery floss.  Some of it was my grandmother's and she passed in 1987.  There are lots of bits, ends, discontinued numbers, odd shades and nameless lengths - the detritus from a hundred kits and projects.  It is a very large amount, but I never seem to dig in to it.  When I do pick up a cross stitch needle it is usually a kit with floss included.  I couldn't think of a reason to keep it.  I even checked on my friend ebay and there are plenty of inexpensive bundles of cross stitch floss should I ever want to get going again.  Besides, surely it was rotten after all this time.  However when I opened it the stuff seemed fine and a bit of stamped embroidery I started a while back fell out.  I remember how happy I was to start it, and how I got broken off and the bits I wanted to do - I got nostalgic.  I miss doing cross stitch, but my eyes get so tired.  I think I can hang on to these bits for a little longer, just to see if I can get back to it.  It is on borrowed time, though.

The other thing I was looking at was a set of folders.  I am a sucker for those 'collect' magazines.  I have collected all sorts of rubbish.  However I got this set and loved it.  I always used to really look forward to these coming at the newsagents.  One was a 'decorate your home' type and one was a 'decorative needlework' type - I can't remember their names.  Sigh.  I loved them, leafed through them, dreamed of the projects, never got anything done.  They are both incredibly dated.  I don't think I can part with them, though.  There are still some useful techniques and I plan to revisit and perhaps have another go.  They are a bit safer.

On the other hand, with practically everything else all bets are off!

Bear and School

I've been dreading this for a while.  I've known it was coming.  It is finally here.  Bear has come home with a letter saying that his year and the next are learning a musical instrument and it is the recorder.

The recorder - an instrument designed for torturing parents.  I've heard all the medieval stuff and baritone recorders and stuff.  That can be magical.  Bear is not getting a baritone recorder nor will he be playing Restoration tunes.  He will be having the standard issue job lot as issued by the school and no doubt massacring Greensleeves.  The basic plastic recorder is still a foul and dreadful thing.  I am going to be paying £2.70 for the privilege as well.

Bear is happy, though, as he now has a case for his 'new' phone.  He has been pacing around flashing the Doctor Who case and trying all the angles and details.  He will almost certainly need a replacement by Christmas, but I may delegate that gift to uncle.

Targets for last week were failed abysmally.  I am not sure what the best line of attack is now - whether to continue or to change tactic.  This week I will continue to aim to finish the blanket, and I will see how that goes.

Being Chugged

When I took bear into town last week I was approached a couple of times by the charity fundraisers.  Each time I politely said, 'No thank you,' and each time they persisted until they got the death stare.  I don't like being approached when I am with a young lad, it isn't right that they won't take 'no' for an answer.

I tried to explain it to bear.  These people are earning money depending on how many people they sign up. They may have families to feed, and bills to pay, and you can understand them being persistent.  It is okay to say, 'no' but it is fair to be polite.  However the charities often don't get so much of the money that they raise.  A certain amount is taken off from the donation to the charity, and I believe if the standing order is cancelled before the collector has got the full amount then the charity has to hand over that money.  I tried to explain to bear that if you wanted the charity to get the most of the money then it was  best to pay online or make a donation in a charity shop.  Bear found the whole thing a little odd.  I felt sad that part of the process of getting bear into a functional adult was explaining some of the ways you can be ripped off by someone apparently working for a good cause.

Bear isn't too bothered, however, as he continues to use the phone as a video camera.  I touched the subject of video editing software for Christmas with DH.  Apparently video editing software comes with Windows.  Sigh.  Evidence of my lack of housekeeping will be on YouTube before I can blink, I can tell.  Possibly with a soundtrack.  Yesterday we went on a walk and bear spent every muddy moment videoing.  When you play it back I am sure you will hear me in the background saying, 'Watch what your feet are doing!' again and again and again.  It was only a bit of scrubby grassland and he treated it like a route march.

I have a happy bear and that is what matters.

Mistaken phone

Bear has just wandered in.  He has enjoyed working with the noises app, the whip crack app (don't ask), the alarm, the stop watch, the timer, the music and I am working on the calendar.  He was a bit put out when he realised voice recognition didn't work unless there was a connection.

"You do know that I know how to turn on the wifi connection." He said calmly, and wandered off.

Tonight I am going to wait until he is in bed and delete every single bit of video evidence of my appalling housewifery.

Speaking of which, I have just frozen some soup but I am not entirely sure how successful it is.  I will wait and see.

The phone was a mistake

Bear is making videos with my elderly ex-phone.  I am slightly suspicious about the videos where bear calmly describes his drawings.  I am not keen on him getting anything loaded up on YouTube, so I foresee a battle of wills on that front.  However there are worse things.

The worse things are that bear is now making a video of our house.  It needs a clean.  He is in the kitchen and the dishwasher needs loading.  He is making a video of the pile of washing next to the washing machine.  This video is being uploaded nowhere.

Bear has wanted to make videos for YouTube for a long time.  Now he has a means to make videos.  I am going to regret this.