life is a waltz

Quiz time: It is a very foggy night and you are walking home from the train station. You need to cross a road that you cannot even see the other side of do you a) check that you are wearing black from head to toe, b) cross at a normal slow pace, c) ignore the crossing only 5 metres away or d) all of the above ?

If you even considered answering a-d then you would be having to pay road idiot road tax and insurance under my new scheme.

I very nearly put to such idiots out of their misery a few days ago whilst driving home. I was a quivering wreck by the time I pulled up on the drive way. They rely on good drivers to keep them safe on the road so by my book they should be helping to foot the bill for road tax and insurance. If I had knocked one of them down both our lives would never have been the same again but it would be me quite literally paying for it – well and you as a humble tax payer.

So the only solution is to have a pedestrian license, tax and insurance scheme. i.e anyone that wants to use the roads should have to cough up, why do just car owners have to pay to drive safely on the roads. We have all proven that cars, bikes, pedestrians aren’t equal on the roads so lets level it out a bit and have us all on the things on the same basis, tested and adequately paid up for. Maybe then all the idiots that put everyone at risk might take a bit of responsibility and cross safely rather than blame us good motorist for not second guessing that they are going to step right out in front of us.

Quick, hurry do not delay. If you want to be clad out this summer rush to the highstreet and get those flip-flops NOW.

I am sure that when we were young mum went out and got what we needed as we needed it. We never had a stock pile of clothes ready and waiting for the weather to turn. How times have changed. The shops are completely out of season these days. In winter you have to stock up for summer and in the summer heat you have to shop for the woolly jumpers or else low and behold you will miss out on the chance to be suitably dressed.

Yesterday I was in panic mode yet again. All I needed was a new pair of water proof boots (my 6 year old pair had a half inch difference between the left side and right side on each heal)and was sent into a complete spin on seeing a highstreet full of summer clothes. Had I have wanted a nice summer sandle I would have been spoilt for choice. Up and down I went, 3 hours later I struggled to pick between the only 2 pairs the shops had on offer, they would have to make do until next year.

Then with my brain pumping out of my head I charged round purse open gathering up an array of clothes just in case we needed them in the summer. Swimming costumes, deck shoes, shorts,t-shirts - good gosh. Then just as I thought I was ahead of the game it occured that the girls would probably go up a size during the summer so off to get next sizes up aswell!

So great all ready for summer in february, lets just keep our fingers crossed that the weather is in line with the stock pile. I sigh of relief that at least that is it shopping wise until at least October - brilliant - execpt.....

According to the shops seasonal calander summer must be due to end in march so I can look forward to stock piling for next winter in 2 months time - oh sod it.

I thought I was going spontaneously combust when I arrived home to find a dumped cardboard box next to our wall. Now living on a corner plot brings with it many a problem, mainly of the doggy doos variety, but I would never have laid money on the dreaded R word bringing our house into horrors – Recycling – ARRGGGHHH.

The said box on closer inspection was full, not of litter and this is too good to have made up, it was full of council leaflets on ? You’ve guessed it recycling. They were to convince all us council tax payers to fork out X amount a year to have our garden refuse collected, encouraging us to use recycling banks (which are located in places only accessible by car ???) and so the bullying continues.

As I picked up my phone to dial the number which was conveniently at hand, I noticed from my kitchen window a van stopping to collect the contents (2 vans thus far for one box, very carbon neutral I don’t think) and to add insult the box was left behind for the street cleaners (yep another van) to get it the next day and of course they were probably cursing me for leaving it there.

Now we regular recycle thanks to brainwash TV otherwise known as cbeebies. They are constantly pressurising young minds to worry about the planet rather than whether they can get away with picking their noses. My three year old is more aware of what can and can’t go in the bin than me and I recycle purely on the basis that I might get put on the naughty spot for putting a yoghurt pot in the normal bin. Mind you all the TV experts say a minute on the naughty spot for each year of life so a 32 minute sit down could be worth it.

We don’t even really watch all that much TV and this is the situation we find our selves in. Again this is all hardly eco friendly they should be getting the kids to turn the TV off and play a board game by candle light to save the world instead.
Even the Christmas trees had us all in a tangle – “dispose ecofriendly” this year. 1) plant it in your garden – but I just paid some one £400 to have the garden cleared.
2) take it to the council recycling plant – great- wait, so in the car, then into an electric machine, then package and transport in a van the chips and I then hoover out the card for 2 hours. Is this all offset?

It is all complete madness, but hey I still do it.

Who would have thought that the humble sock could cause our household so much grief and pleasure. I am refering to the normal foot garmet not some new elborate masterpiece of the same name.

I can't say that I can pinpoint a starting point for all of this but over a period of time this small knitted thing has become a focal point of arguments and laughs. So lets deal with the more interesting arguements first.

The main reason for the sock argument is of course the husband. On his arrival home the shoes must come straight off to reveal the black smelly socks that even the girls run in fear of. Now I can handle a breif whiff but 20 minutes after being home the offending socks are still on the go. Thus the argument begins, my main arguement being where does the smell go, the socks in question go directly on the carpet which in this instant are pretty new. It also occurs (loudly) that I am the only one that actually smells the rotting cotton and thus why should I have to lump it all night. The socks eventually come off which should be the end but is actaully only just the beginning. The smell obviously transends the socks so we have the "wash your feet" debate, followed by the you dirty sod you put them in the shoe basket not the laundry basket or you left them on my pillow (as sort of revenge he uses should I say too much). The neighbours must be ready to have us both committed!

Next is the three year old. She frequently has colour days where she will only wear all clothes of one colour. On the whole they are pink days so I have a plently to cover, but the trouble starts on a purple day when the 1 pair of purple socks are dirty or on a blue day where there just aren't any - here world ends as my headache starts.

In on the act jumps the 9 month old as throughout the day we do the battle to keep them on. I put them on she pulls them off over and over and over and over again until bedtime. This must be a common game as I recently saw a advert for an over sock to help sort this little occurance out.

Now I am not totally innocent in all this (don't tell the husband)I moan about mine constantly. Trying to find a decent cotton sock is a battle these days even M&s do them thinner these days (paxo I get you). Then there is the problem of matching a pair of socks to shoes/trainers and just when I think i have it hey presto the girls have a group at which I must reveal a decent and of course matching pair - O hell!

And so on to the laughs - well all of the above - after the event naturally.