24 books: advent 2013

Those advent matchboxes were cool, but I've used them twice so this year I thought I'd do something a little different.
We've collected a number of Christmas themed books over the years, including many from my childhood, and quite liking the idea of having special books out for special times of the year, I'd packed them all away with the decorations last January.
I recently pulled them out and discovered we had 14.

A visit to The Rural Child, a trawl through my Mum's kiddie book collection, some rolls of brown paper, my washi stash, a basket by the bed and ...

A very booky advent countdown has begun.

So far the girls are loving it. I numbered them mindfully, mixing up the old favourites with the new, making sure we open the longer reads on weekend evenings, the shorter ones for these first few days while school is still on and we're all exhausted at bedtime.
Friday finds the right number (they're all mixed up) and they take turns to open the packages.

There are some classics in there ...

And some delightful modern ones ...

And why are there TWO numbers on this one you ask?

Because obviously late at night as I frantically wrapped the last books I discovered I was one short ... and quickly made this one valid for two nights as it's packed with fabulous Richard Scarry goodness and totally worth savouring. Genius!

I love a slow, anticipatory build-up to Christmas!

channeling Nancy Botwin

So then obviously something happened today which was totally blog-worthy, and all about me.

Just because I've decided not to share their humiliations on the internet doesn't mean I can't share mine right?

I've been working hard at gardening. And by hard I mean tending to a couple of herb/veggie plants in a motley assortment of pots, and culling small pieces of plants all over the place and sticking them in the earth at home in the vain hope they'll like it here.

Most of them have. Thereby boosting my garden and my self-confidence.

So when Friday's school sent home some seeds weeks ago with instructions to nurture a small plant to return in time for the annual fundraising Plant Sale, I was confident. I got this. I can grow a measly parsley plant right?

Wrong. 

Turns out the bursting new green buds I celebrated, the little shoots I protected and nurtured (Friday, btw, could not have been less interested), the small (but flourishing!) little plant I packaged up and carefully transported to school this morning is not parsley.

It is a weed.

At the school gates I spied a tiny fluffy purple flower on the plant and with a sinking feeling broke off and tasted a small leaf.

Not parsley.

I was nearly, nearly, that mother who tried to sell weed at the school fair. 

FEAT. socks

So ... I bought husband some socks for his birthday last month. Amongst other things okay? Sheez.

I bought him some fancy-pants socks from Feat. sock co. - a wee bamboo/cotton blend nod to hipsterville and all that he ain't.
His birthday was in mid-July, and last week I noticed one of the socks had a hole in the toe.

So I thought what the heck, and sent them a mail kindly inquiring whether they'd send someone round to darn it?
That was on Friday.
On Monday replacements were hand-delivered to our front door.

Considering he wears biker boots all day they gently suggested he try some from their more rugged cotton/nylon blend range. Probably not a bad plan.

I like this kind of service. I like supporting local brands who take this kind of pride in their reputation. I even like their little sock movie (how cute are those scallop-edged socks for girls?).

And I thought seeing as I have a modest public platform here, I'd thank them publicly. Thanks Feat!

in my shoes

Take kids to school. Dash to Checkers for some necessary groceries. Deliberate through aisles, make snap decisions, ring through checkout, reach into bag ... no wallet.

Abandon purchases. Drive home cursing. Find wallet. Rue the time lost and the lack of milk for that desperately needed second cup of tea.

Turn on computer. No internet. Inquiry reveals Telkom has suspended account due to missed payment. More cursing.

Embark on 45 minute forensic investigation of the last 6 months bills and payments with morose internet-less husband.

Did I mention husband is home with manflu?

Weep.

Do mountains of laundry.

Dash to pharmacy. Inadvertently bust virile looking young man buying Impotex. Am reminded that some have it worse off than me.

Realise not enough time remains to buy necessary groceries so proceed to collect small girl from school first.

Return to Checkers. Put child in trolley. Push trolley over unforeseen bump, child flies forward and splits lip on trolley. Screaming.

Cursing.

Child calms but refuses to be cleaned up. Proceed through shop with blood-smeared sobbing child.

Collect big girl. Return home.

To find this waiting.

And so, between that frustrating morning, and before an afternoon walk which continued in the same vein. A walk which included being rained on and dog getting small branch wedged in her throat (more cursing, sotto vocce this time).

Before that walk there was this ...

And inside, this ...

Thank you Converse for never failing to make me happy. Thank you Marimekko for collaborating with happy-making Converse. Thank you Heather for cluing me onto these in the first place. And thank you Citymob for a speedy and excellently-timed delivery.

Life can kick me in the head with these anytime.