Two and a half days of migraine... without a break except when under the blissful effects of Immigran , Volterol , sleep and the waterbed .

the right job

There must be moments ( or whole days ) when many if us wonder if we are indeed in the right job .

I have just watched fifteen minutes of a wildlife programme hosted by Nigel , who appeared to be lying in a swamp somewhere in very close proximity to some very big brown guinea pigs . They had a name but it was so out of this world I couldn't quite catch it . I'm also high on migraine pills which explains my inadequacies , usually I would have been onto google to check their identity , but I simply stared in amazement and wished I was Nigel as he sounded so happy , so bouyant and so full of , yes joy . Something I feel most days I have a CatCall , but though I do really enjoy my other work , its just not quite the same . faced with someone I am assessing , or sitting staring at my laptop for inspiration as I try to hammer out a report I cannot quite summon the ecstatsy I was sensing was part of Nigels workaday experience , leastways when he was lying in that swamp .

In fact so inspired was I by Nigel that I texted my sister, but not being quite with it got myself in quite a tangle with predictive texting and suggested she take a look at the rodents on no 5 , her reply text came back slightly incredulous " what ? the hippos? " ( amazing how fast things move on channel five ) , my response was meant to say "no the pigsters in the water with Nigel " but pigster read " shirter" ...and water , yards ..... thus a completely incomprehensible text .

" Nigel was with some cute big shirter things in the yards a minute ago ." You've missed them now . ( I wanted to add grumpily , but desisted ) . Somehow my attempt to share Nigel's joy was threatening to take over and I put my phone down , vowing to live in the moment and just do what Nigel did and watch and learn and ... well ... just that .....nothing else .
And I did .
And for the remaining three minutes of the programme it was bliss .

Tom McLaughlin

For those regular followers of the blog who know that Nat's cousin Oliver Jeffers, artist and children's author--: Oliver Jeffers :-- has recently had a portrait accepted at the National Portrait Gallery , you may also be interested to know that her brother Tom has an exhibition of his poems and art in Exeter until May Tom McLaughlin and I have it on good authority that Paper Girl will be arriving at our house at the end of the exhibition .

Can you tell its a seal ?

We could even see its whiskers .

It was bobbing along beside us as we walked along the pier at Tynemouth , thick necked and chasing seagulls off as they swooped low to see if it had fish . Click on the photo to enlarge ? Or not , possibly !

St Mary's Island on a sunnier evening

Ms CatCalls demolishes part of a gatepost .. or thinks she does

I used to find my horoscopes spoke to me in some deep and meaningful way , so much so that I arranged to have one delivered to my e mail in box every morning . However increasingly , it seems out of kilter with my real life existence ....

Yesterday was the final day of my Day Job hols , a day for pottering and catching up on a few bits and pieces .
The horoscope read as follows :

"A desire to redecorate, remodel or otherwise beautify your home might tempt you to spend a little too much today. This is fine, as long as you make sure you overspend on what you really want or need. Don't get so carried away that you might have to take unwanted stuff back to the store! You might invite some people over tonight, but again, be careful you don't invite too many. "Excess" is the keyword for today, Ms CatCalls. Avoid it! "

Today I cast my mind back to yesterday's reality .

Alice sleeps in after the trip out yesterday .

I luxuriate in bed from 6 onwards listening for her bell and reading Sarah Challis and texting Nat who is allegedly travelling back from Plymouth though there are several false starts as they have set out at eight thirty sharp and got some way along the route only to find that the car is still fitted with the boys' baby seats . Matters are compounded by the fact that Nat's GHD s are still plugged in at her sister's , thus they must retrace their steps . Their ETA is therefore now 6 30 pm rather than 3 30 . She informs me that she will therefore arrive back and have to leave immediately to go to a party . We can therefore spend some time together on saturday by way of compensation , she proposes .

I am finally driven from bed by Kitty worming her way under my book and refusing to leave me to read . I make a batch of brownies then head out for a CatCall with swimming gear under my arm . It is pouring . Thoughts of remodelling my home are never further from my mind . Remodelling my life maybe , picking up sticks and moving somewhere less cold and wet maybe ?
Miserable day .

The cats are indoors , stretching and squeaking quietly when I go in , keen to see whether I am providing tuna or something they find less palatable . I fill bird feeders in the rain and am rewarded with a performance by Mr Blackbird who ( with his partner ) has a nest above the patio and sits on the wire watching me watching him . As I approach to throw food into the fish pond he dances unhappily and flies across and away to distract me from the nest .... I return to the house not wanting to upset him further . I leave a note for the family as it is my last day and return the key .

Having had to park the car in the drive unusually, due to a surfeit of cars in the road , I reverse out listening to a programme on Radio 4 about whether or not fathers should be permitted to stay on the ward after their babies have been born . I have mixed feelings about this . I would rather my partner had been permitted to stay before the baby was born , when I was admitted but before there was a space for me in the delivery room but that's a whole other story . I hated being in labour on my own throughout the night and then ..... oh hang on I'm going to go off on a massive rant here .... in fact a really massive rant . Probably why I found myself unable to get out of the drive properly , and having to take the sharp corner again and wondering as I drove off what that funny scraping noise on my first " take " was . By this time I am telling the radio presenter my birthing experiences . I can confirm she is not listening .

Suffice to say I went swimming and as I swam up and down thinking back decided it might be politic to take a look at the car . My swimming gets faster and faster .... twenty lengths flashes past in the twinkling of an eye . I have almost given birth again . Ha ! the car has a little scrape along the bumper and some on the paintwork . I then start wondering about the wall or gate or whatever in the driveway I had departed and drove back that way to take a look .

Horrors !

Could remodelling my home have involved demolishing the gatepost of one of my CatCalling customers ? All I could see as I drove up was the stone post , with the top piece of stone perched loosely on the top . I pull up and stare . It looks as if someone ( me ? ) has knocked it down and then picked it up and placed it back on top as if trying to conceal the fact that they knocked it down ( not me! ) . A car drives past , two men inside appearing to stare accusingly at me . I want to raise my hands at them in that universal " Who me ? What ? " gesture , so beloved of Nat whenever I ask her anything about anything . ( Paranoia setting in here )

I get out of the car and examine the scrape on the car and the gatepost and decide it is actually unlikely the two are connected . The height of the damages are different for one thing . There is a little stone dust on the path which corresponds with the damage I have caused , but I can't be sure , so I leave a note to explain and push it through the door , hoping the family will be able to understand my garbled explanation .

The rain goes on .. and on ... and on . Alice misses her morning walk as she is not keen on wet beaches when the wind is blowing a gale .
I can confirm that my sole purchase during the whole day is a seat cover for the car ( £4.99 from Aldi , an extremely cheap shop which I visit for the first time ) which will stop Alice slipping onto the floor with her cushions and bean bags when we fly round corners , in fact it stops her gaining access to the floor at all or the front seats , incredibly useful when she wishes to sit on my lap as I am driving . She is far too tall and skinny and her legs are far too pointy and sharp .

My evening entertainment involved a walk to st Mary's island . I didnt invite anyone home with me . It was so freezing there wasn't a soul else out there . Sad or what ? Maybe I just need a new horoscoper . Is that even a word ?


Footnote
Mr W phones later to explain I have not demolished the post . Such relief .

Day Trip to Holy Island

Yesterday was Day Trip to Holy Island day , complete with grehound slipping all over the back seat at we took the coastal route which is supposed to be enjoyed at a leisurely pace . Thanks however to a slightly tardy start and a CatCall en route , and said greyhound needing comfort breaks halfway there , the second part of the journey was somewhat faster than the first an d involved much sighing on her part as she gritted her teeth and tried to cling to her beanie seat , and much tutting on my part ( nerves and irritation at the thought of missing the tides ) . Last time for crossing the causeway to the island was flagged on the tide tables as 12 noon . At 12 noon we were still ( allegedly) half an hour's drive away , albeit hurtling round country lanes , with D telling me there was no issue and we would make it . I had visions of the car floating away on the tide and me and him clinging to Alice ( pained expression no doubt ) in the escape- box-on-a-stick .

However , as is often the case in such matters , he was quite right and we made it indeed with half an hour to spare ( pah! Tide tables ! ) and we had to wait to see the water lapping across the road behind us ( I like to frighten myself after the event ....... ) meaning we were truly trapped on an island for five whole hours . Or indeed , four whole hours given the tide tables were wrong .

And the sun shone for us and we found some crinoids on the beach

crinoids st cuthberts beads - Google Image Search and Alice met some little girls from Falkirk in Scotland who were very taken with her , and we met an American man who was staying for two nights and was very taken with our search for the crinoids ( fascinated by our sitting hunched over the sand sifting through patiently till we find a tiny fossilized shell ) and we walked by the lobster pots and the sheep and lambs and coffee shops and ate a picnic entirely composed of carbohydrates as someone forgot to pack the protein .

Leaving at the last minute we drove through the water splashing across the causeway ( argh ! ) heading for a final walk on the rocks at Bamburgh where we found a painting of a deer on the rocks and then Seahouses for fish and chips .

A plan which has been fermenting for some time bubbled along a little further . We have a week in July when Nat is away in France and rather than fly somwhere for a week ourselves which was the plan , we consider hiring a camper van and taking off with Alice for some kind of adventure . Having owned such a camper van in the past , when Nat was a tiny baby , I know many of the pitfalls . It is however long enough ago that I have forgotten most of them , and remember instead the delights of the freedom to go where you chose , to pack up on a whim , to have everything with you and within reach at all times . The picnics in the van , the little meals cooked on the stove , sliding the doors across and having a barbecue just at the back door , the hot sunshine always there ( what ? Am I deluded ? Most of my old photos show driving rain and me holding a baby in the front seat whilst reading a newspaper .....the baby is always smiling but she was that kind of baby ) ... I could go on ....the plan is evolving as I said .

Needless to say Alice slept in again this morning ....