Sunday, January 28

Oh, the drama

Not content with the heart drama story to dine out of for a couple of months, today has brought more high drama in the Meep household.

Blod and I went to the local park for a walk this morning. On the way home, we were turning a corner and Blod came nose-to-nose with a Husky-type dog. It had evil-looking black patches around its eyes, huge clumps of fur were missing and it was covered in nasty-looking scars.

The dog immediately went for Blod. I sped up and pulled Blod along with me, but the Husky wouldn't give up. It kept nipping and growling at Blod and wouldn't leave us alone. As we walked faster, Husky got nastier. At this point, Blod was squealing and yelping and running round and round me in circles trying to get away.

I tried pick Blod up, but the dog then started going for me. Luckily, I was wearing a very thick coat. I was terrified. We were at the bottom of my street at this point and all the yelping and growling brought people out in to the street. A nice man opened his front gate and said: "Come in here, love."

So Blod and I bundled into his lounge, while he shoo-ed the evil beast away. It was hanging around outside for ages, then loitering just a little way up the street - quite near my house, in fact. The mystery man didn't want me to walk home, so he put us in his car and drove us to the end of the road - even waited until we were safely inside our front gate. What a hero.

Have to say I'm a bit scared to go out alone with Blod now. But also, my cockles are warmed by the man who rescued us - what a gent.

Blod, as you can see, was over the whole thing in all of, ooo, five minutes. A couple of sausages and the incident was a mere memory. I don't think dogs suffer from post-traumatic stress.

Friday, January 26

The Dress Sense of a 3-Year Old

At the supermarket yesterday, Mr Meep and I were wandering past the baby clothes aisle. My eye was caught by all the cute things that I could get for the future baby Meep. I picked up a pink stripy jumper.

Me: "Aw, how cute is this?"
Mr Meep: "That's just like your pink stripy top that makes you look like a sweet."

A few seconds later...

Me (picking up little blue sparkly knitted jacket): "Oooo, that one is gorgeous."
Mr Meep: "It's just like your blue cardigan with the glittery bits."

And at the shoe aisle...

Me: "Eeek - these are like little versions of my new boots."
Mr Meep: "Um, have you ever considered the fact that maybe you dress like a toddler?"

Let's look at the evidence.

Multi-coloured stripy socks and sparkly slippers...

Little girl shoes...

Pink and pigtails...

Bright, flowery tops...

Oh, that's not me. But I think he might be right.

Thursday, January 25

Seven for 2007

I can not believe, as a list-obsessed wierdo, that I didn't get round to making any New Year Resolutions this year. Well, it's still January, so I've been thinking about them today.

1. Get our household expenses down to £200 per month - that's to feed us both, plus the pets, and pay for toiletries, cleaning-type stuff and alcohol. That might sound like a lot, but some months last year, it spiralled to over £400 (insert very shocked smiley here). And guess what? I've already done it for January - and that includes cooking two three-course meals for a total of 10 people this weekend - hurrah!

2. Grow the following in my garden: sunflowers, various salad leaves, tomatoes, leeks, basil, coriander, courgettes.

3. Do all the things that I didn't do from last year's list, which are:
  • Climb Pen-y-Fan
  • Go to the Lake District
  • Visit Totnes, my spirtiual home
  • Paint a picture
  • Make a collage/painting for my niece's bedroom
  • Go to a rugby match at the Millennium Stadium
  • Learn the names of trees
  • Read Vikram Seth's A Suitable Boy - which has now been on my shelf for, ooo, five years.

    Hmmm, maybe 31 things was a bit optimistic.

    4. Get into yoga. When I've been in the past, I've enjoyed it - but I've always felt that I should probably have spent the hour jumping about in Cardio Kickbox or Aeropump Frenzy or something instead. Nowadays, with my relaxed freelance, frugal lifestyle, I will hopefully be more zen about it all. Oh, and it might help with that whole giving birth/lemon-melon thing.

    5. Grow out my highlights. (Gulp.) I have been blonde for about 12 years, but it is so, so bad for my wallet and for Mother Earth. Out with the highlights, in with the henna. Just hope I don't end up looking like an ageing goth and wearing lots of plum-coloured crushed velvet too.

    6. Do some work experience in a school to see if teaching is for me.

    7. Take lots of beautiful photos (my camera is fixed - yay!).

    And obviously, get thinner/greener/fitter/richer etc. Oh, and have a baby.

    As I am writing this, I have some banana muffins baking in the oven and some vanilla oil in my oil burner - mmmmmmmmmmmm. However, beside me is the dog, who is making the smells from hell from her curly bottom. It's an interesting combo of aromas.
  • Tuesday, January 23

    The Big Smoke

    I've been down that London today, for a meeting. Here's my review of London, in the form of a sort-of poem-type thing.


    Good stuff
    Multi-cultural communities
    Loads of fantastic galleries
    The fact that you don't need a car
    And lots and lots of sushi bars
    (although, only for the veggie stuff - remember kids, fish are friends, not food!)

    Bad stuff
    The grime and the crime
    The tube and the suits
    The black snot

    There you go, no need for you to visit now.

    Monday, January 22

    Black Monday?

    According to boffins right here in Caerdydd, today is the officially the most depressing day of the year.

    I've had quite a nice day - lay in until 8, wombled down the road to work, had some nice green tea and caught up with the lovely lady I share an office with, listened to CDs while we worked, had a flapjack, came home, tickled the dog, stroked the cat, phoned my mam and my nan, made my Aunty a birthday card, made dahl for the first time ever (so cheap, so yummy - why have I not discovered it before?).

    If this is as bad as it gets, bring on the rest of 2007.

    Oh, and after this depressing post, I have landed a new client for my copywriting. Quite a big one too. Hurrah!

    Sunday, January 21

    I'm a sick sausage...

    Have spent 36 hours with head in the toilet bowl - had to cancel pizza night with friends and Sunday lunch at my Nan's. The poor baby has not had any food.

    Blee. Woe is me.

    Meanwhile, here are some nice cakes I made for my Dad's 60th birthday a few weeks ago.

    Friday, January 19

    My Lovely Lady Lump(s)

    Is a very small lady lump, I think, but I still like it. And hey, I haven't piled on the pounds so that's got to be a good thing, eh? I have, however, got a rather impressive pair of enormoboobs (sadly not that visible in this photo).

    I shouldn't be too smug though - there's still a whole four months in which to reach Feltzian proportions. And I generally am eating a cake a day.

    So the fear of turning into a a 'before' photo from Slimfast ad doesn't seem to be turning into a reality yet. But, of course, there's the other big fear - it coming out. Something the size of a melon out of something the size of a lemon... it is so going to hurt.

    I've progressed from not being able to even open Dr Miriam Stoppard's Guide to Pregnancy and Birth, to being able to actually open and read it. Still haven't quite managed to look at the 'real life' pictures of births though. Bleeee.

    I've asked people who've gone through it and they all say different things...

    Mother Meep: "It's not that bad - just like bad period pain."
    H: "It's fine, I really enjoyed it."
    J: "It was the best day of my life."

    But some have told the truth:
    L: "It's absolutely hideous. Have all the drugs that you can."

    Ho-hum. Suppose it's got to come out somehow.

    And the best news is, that Mini Meep is a Mini Miss Meep - a little girl. Hurrah. Here's to many years of Hello Kitty and pink glittery things.

    Yes, it is 4pm and, no, I haven't brushed my hair yet today. Hair is so... dull.

    Thursday, January 18

    Feeling Lost

    I'm having a career crisis. I've been having one for years - in fact, ever since I left uni. I thought I wanted to work in the media, and I did briefly, until I realised there is far too anti-mumpetness going on (my lovely friend The Jalepeno excluded). I did Marketing/PR-type work, which I enjoyed temporarily, until I got sooooooooo bored of working an office. Now I'm doing Comms/PR for a charity - great to be working for a good cause, but the office thing is still driving me absolutely mad. I just can't sit in one place all day long doing the same thing - and I'm only there for three days a week.

    The freelance thing is tough. I'm just not confident enough to 'sell' myself to people. After being turned down for lucrative writing contract before Christmas, I have been doubting my er... "talents" and don't know what to do next.

    I love my volunteering with the dyslexia class. After I finish work on a Wednesday feeling bored and like I haven't achieved a lot, I go there and really do something that makes a difference to someone.

    The other things that absorb me are drawing/painting/making, cooking, music and learning...

    By jove, why haven't I become a primary school teacher? This has been in the back of my mind for years, so I've just written to a couple of local schools to see if I can do some volunteering with the little 'uns. Watch this space.

    And meanwhile, as writing is the only thing I've ever done (so I can't really be THAT bad at it), I've got to get in gear and get myself hired. I've written a plan of action and will be ticking things off that list as of... ooo, as soon as I've posted this and finished my mug of Ovaltine (the pregnant woman's best friend - full of iron AND cures heartburn).

    And to keep in practice with the writing, I have set myself a challenge - blog every day for a month. Oh what treats I have in store.

    Thursday, January 11

    She Wags

    My little dog wags her tail a lot. In fact, when she's not sleeping, she's wagging. Wag, wag, wag, wag - all day long.

    Mr Meep and I tried to count the wags when she was especially excited the other day.

    We reckoned about 120 WPM (wags per minute).

    So that's make 7200 wags every hour.

    And she's awake and excitable for about five hours a day - 36,000 wags per day.

    And she's 18 months old, so in her little waggy lifetime, she's notched up over 19 million wags.

    That is a lot of wagging.

    I wonder if you can get a wagometer?

    Friday, January 5

    Christmas at the Meep-in-Laws

    Do you think it is possible to wear all your Christmas presents at once?

    Anyway, it's time to pack the baubles and gifts away- it's officially all over for another year.

    Happy 2007! Hope your season was festive and full of mince pies.

    NB That reindeer jumper was a pyjama top - I haven't started wearing themed sweaters.