On the road again.

The Boy and I are on the road again. We've said au revoir to Leeds and are embarking on our next journey, destination unknown.

Saying goodbye to our little piece of Sydney (Sydney St not Sydney Australia) was really hard, harder than I thought. It seems that I had grown quite attached in those six months. I'd gotten very used to the fact that our washing machine was in our bathroom, that we had a small damp problem, that we didn't have a shower for a month and could only use the bath, and that our little piece of heaven would always have a strange Chinese cuisine kind of smell.

I'd like to sum up our time there in a simple and concise way. I could just ramble and ramble, but I'm going to rein it in for once. Here goes:

1 Curry
5 Sleepovers
1 Party
1 Flood
10 ish inches of snow
2 Spiders
100's of Fireworks
30 Flowers
12 Candles
3 Accidents

I hope that gives you a little bit of an idea of what happened in Sydney.

If you would like me to give you any further information on any of the 10 points listed above I'd be more than happy to oblige.

Love

Laura

xxx

Hand me the hammer!

It was 9am on Saturday morning and I was holding a hammer tightly in my hand. I looked at my target and swung with all my might. I heard a loud ‘smash’, and felt extremely satisfied.

I’ll bring you up to speed as to why the hell I was wielding a hammer at 9am on Saturday morning. The Boys Brother and Sister in law have recently moved house and are embarking on a renovation project. There was an old brick outhouse standing in the way of where their extension would be built and it had to go, so that was why we were there.

 - Brick outhouse on the right -

We (The Demolition Squad) being the people listed below:

There was me – Over excited novice builder.

The Boy – Who didn’t really share my excitement, but loved playing with the sledgehammer just as much as I did.

The Boys sister – Who provided a much needed hug on the second day when the going got tough, she also has pretty amazing brick laying skills.

The Boys Brother aka ‘Project Manager’ – Who adopted dare devil status after attempting to knock down the wall he was standing on with a sledge hammer!

The Boys Sister in law aka ‘Wee boys Mum’– Who snapped pictures of our efforts, cooked our meals and kept the little ones out of the danger zone.

‘Wee boys Mums’ Mother – Who made much needed cups of coffee (Clearly not a proper builder otherwise I’d be drinking tea) and made yummy cake.

‘Wee boys Mums’ Dad – Who created the vegetable patch, and had a fantastic pair of yellow pointy slippers.

Back to the demolition and what better way to start the day than with a sausage butty and a strong cup of coffee (in a Cath Kidston mug no less), all of this courtesy of ‘Wee boys Mums’ Mother. Breakfast over and it was time to tackle the brick outhouse.

Before getting to work I had to put on my ‘Workies Attire’, high vis pants and steel toe caps. I think I was looking pretty darn cool.

- Demolition had begun -

After The Boys Sister and I smashed the two windows in, the men in the squad took the roof off. Then it was time to let rip on the bricks.

I’d never used a sledge hammer before, but from taking one look at it I knew it had my name written all over it. I held the hammer over my shoulder and swung it at the bricks, I wacked the wall as hard as I could, feeling quite proud every time a brick fell out.

My Dad's a builder and I always toy with the idea of having a more masculine career. I like the idea of being a mechanic, a builder, a plumber or even an electrician. I opted for electronics over cookery in school. As soon as I pulled up my rather fetching bright yellow pants I felt my manly instinct kick in. I embraced the builder in me. Although after lunch I couldn’t help but re touch my make up and fix my hair before going back outside.

Back outside and it was all systems go, the bricks that came from the outhouse where being used to create a vegetable patch for the ‘Wee boys Mum’. The Boys Sister and the ‘Wee boys Mums’ Dad were busy building it, The Boy and I were busy bashing the hell out of the outhouse, the little ones kept an eye on the proceedings with their noses pressed up against the windows, ‘Wee boys Mum’ and ‘Wee boys Mums’ Mother were on hand to provide refreshments and Project Manager was... project managing?  By ‘Project managing’ I mean getting a rather nasty looking war wound on his leg after a brick hit him and somehow getting a perfect rectangle shape cut out of his trousers with no explanation as to how it happened.

- Almost there -

By the end of day one we were all exhausted, sore and extremely tired. It was hard work to even lift our pizza to our mouths. The Boy looked at me wild eyed when I said we’d be coming back on Sunday to finish off. I would have felt like a failure if I didn’t, there were still walls to knock down and walls to be built.

- Tired and sore -

Sunday morning came and I have to say the excitement I had the previous day had definitely vanished. I had pulled a muscle in my left bum cheek, but I wasn't going to let that stop me.

I was on ‘Brickie’ duty, and was given the task to finish off the vegetable patch. I’ve never lay a brick in my life, and I don’t think I did a very good job. The vegetable patch is a little wonky. It was alright when I was knocking the wall down, but to do work that actually has to stay there and be looked at every day is a little daunting. Now every time I visit I’ll see my not so handy handy-work.

- Look! No outhouse! -

Finally after what seemed like hours of hard labour we were done. The outhouse was gone and the vegetable patch was finished. It was time to tuck in to some steak and chips. ‘Bootiful!’

The biggest achievement of the weekend was not the amount of work that we did, but that none of us ended up in A&E. :)

For another version of the weekends events why not take a look at ‘Wee boys Mums’ blog, it’s all about how the renovation’s going.

http://familyrenovationproject.blogspot.com/

Love from a rather bruised and battered

Laura – Who never wants to see another brick in her life.

xxx

Oh how I love Cath Kidston!

I love love love love Cath Kidston!!!!

I’d like to say that I liked, sorry loved her, before she got Mega popular again, but I can’t say that that’s true. I’d like to think I liked her before she got Mega Mega popular again J

The love affair all started with a phone I bought in December 2006. A nokia 6111 Cath Kidston Limited Edition ‘Bird’ Design. When I traded this little baby for a new model I got more than what I paid for it!

 My next meeting with Cath was to be a delightfully dainty china tea cup, limited edition nonetheless. A very well received Christmas present from one of my Sisters.

Now I am a real coffee lover, a cup of tea in the afternoon is nice, but first thing in the morning I need a big mug of coffee. So obviously I needed a date with Miss Kidston to get me a mug:

Birthday time! I was so happy to receive my Cath Kidston toiletry bag from my other Sister. It's plastic coated so it can be wiped down, which means as long as I look after it, it's mine for life :) Unless I see a nicer one ;) It's the same pattern that my phone was, the 'Bird' design.

On a routine trip to the opticians I was informed that I needed glasses for reading and the television. What better way to celebrate than to buy one of her beautiful spectacles cases.

Birthday time! Again! I have THE bestest friends:

 A beautiful note book to jot down all my random thoughts.

And super cute pumps, ideal for summer sunshine. Mine are the ones on the left.

Well this is the evidence of my affair to date. I hope there will be many more meetings with Miss Kidston, I am totally besotted.

Love

Laura

xxx

Valentines Day

Beautiful flowers delivered to my door

Enough said.






Ooo looks like The Boy's been reading my blog, check out the label :)








All you need is love la la la la la

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Hot Jelly Flights!

I live away from home, so when I get a chance to go home and meet up with my family and friends I am a very happy person. This weekend I had the joy of meeting up with my Mummy and Daddy :D

                

                  The story starts on Friday night, me and The Boy were up alllll night. Up all night baking caramel squares. Now the box said 30-35 minutes, easy peasy lemon squeazy! Not quite so simple, it seems. After reading the small print we discovered it would take about three hours.

                

                  Baking done and we were tucked up in bed by three am. Not too shabby for two twenty something’s on a Friday night.

                

                  You may be wondering why the hell we were baking caramel squares at such an hour. You may not be wondering this, but I am going to tell you why anyway. See the thing is, whenever my Parents visit my Sister she always bakes things. Cookies, cakes, biscuits, you name it she’s baked it. So now that I have my own abode I felt it only right to bake something for my Parents as well. I was out to impress.

                

                 Bright and early on Saturday morning we were on the road to Manchester. My Dad had suggested that we go the Museum of Science and Industry, a place full of trains and planes, The Boy couldn’t be happier.

                

                 On arrival my Dad quickly took The Boy under his wing, and proceeded to talk engines and propellers, whilst my Mum and I lagged behind, eager to have a good natter.

               

                 There are three moments of this day that I just have to tell you all about:

1.       Daddy flying high.

2.       Caramel jelly squares.

3.       Hot/cold Cheesecake.

               No 1. My Dad had never been on a plane, until Saturday that was.  At the ripe old age of 62 my Daddy was going to fly! In a simulator! And not wanting to limit his experience to that of a commercial flight, we made him get in a Euro fighter typhoon simulator.

                       We didn’t make him go it alone; we all clambered into the contraption too. Now I’d never been on one of these things so I didn’t really know what to expect. The flight only lasted about five minutes, but it was certainly enough to leave an impression. The take off felt so real, apart from my ears remaining un-popped, it felt like I was actually in a plane. The simulator bumped us along, and there was a screen in front that showed where we were going on our flight. All was well and we were giggling away until the plane went upside down! At the same time we all grabbed for the hand rail in front of us, as the screen showed us turning round and round. The flight got quite bumpy and as the plane changed direction we were thrown from side to side. Climbing high and then plummeting to the ground we were all squished together and were laughing very loudly. I took a moment to look around at my Mum and Dad, my Mum was laughing away squished up against The Boy, my Dad was laughing so loud, probably the loudest I’ve ever heard him laugh, but there was definitely a little fear in his eyes. Our white knuckle ride came to an end, and when we got out of the simulator I turned to my Dad and said ‘You can tell people you’ve been in a plane now Dad’. He looked at me with a big smile on his face.

              No 2. Our caramel squares didn’t turn out as planned. The caramel turned in to some kind of a Jelly. I don’t think it’s meant to be like a jelly. The caramel squares where still edible, but I’m definitely not winning on the cookery front. 1 – 0 to my Sister I think.

              No 3. Mmm this is a strange one. We went for something to eat after we’d seen all there was to see at the museum. For desert I ordered a Cheesecake. I love cheesecake, but I have to say I was extremely disappointed. The first bite burnt the roof of my mouth! The second bite was frozen! The third bite was cold! The fourth bite was warm mush! Need I go on? Clearly the cheesecake was frozen, so they micro waved it! Eugh!

                

                  A disappointing end to a wonderful day! But I’ll remember that flight forever, It was brilliant!

          I hope you've enjoyed reading about my weekend, why not tell me about yours? 

Love

Laura

xxx

Lovey Dovey

With Valentines Day being less than a week away my thoughts have turned all ‘Lovey Dovey’. I class myself as a true romantic and hearing the word love turns my legs to jelly. I love nothing more than to hear all about my friends adventures in the land of love, and love creating some of my own. 

It may not be Friday but I am head over heels in love.

                

            All this talk of love got me thinking about ‘Labels’, and no I’m not talking about Prada or Gucci (although that gives me a great Valentines present idea for myself.) I’m talking about the labels we put on one another when we’re in relationships. Boyfriend, Girlfriend, Partner, Bit of stuff, The other half...

                

            When I was younger there where certain rules when it came to matters of love. If you were kissing somebody then that was called ‘Meeting’. If you were happy enough to hold hands under the school desks and do some more kissing, then that was classed as ‘Seeing’ someone. Basically ‘Seeing’ someone is the same as being Boyfriend and Girlfriend, but at that age that wasn’t a ‘cool’ thing to admit.

               

             So then you label yourselves as ‘Boyfriend and Girlfriend’ when everything gets ‘serious’, and that’s lovely. It’s simple, easy, Bf, Gf, a couple.

            And then out comes another label when you’re in a more professional situation, and you’re asked about the person you’re in a relationship with. I don’t know if it’s just me but sometimes in said situations I feel a little childish saying ‘Boyfriend’, and so out slips the label ‘Partner’. Then everybody looks at you a little bit funny because you’ve said partner and not boyfriend.

                

           Great, so now they think I’m a lesbian and they’re all too ‘PC’ to ask if I am or not.

           Perhaps I’ll go back to my childhood roots and just say ‘Oh this guy I’m ‘Seeing’ he’s wonderful!’ 

                

    Love

                

    Laura

                

   xxx

Thank you!!!

I am very happy to report that my little blog about life has reached 500 views!

A big massive thank you to everyone that has taken the time to look 'In This Box Of Goodies' :)

It means an awful lot.

Thank you

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Broody-ness

brood·y Adjective /ˈbro͞odē/

Synonyms:

• adjective: pensive, meditative
• noun: sitter

• broodier comparative; broodiest superlative

• (of a hen) Wishing or inclined to incubate eggs
• (of a woman) Having a strong desire to have a baby
• Thoughtful and unhappy
  • his broody concern for the future
    
    

I have been feeling a little broody lately. If you are looking at the list above I am referring to broody number two. I spent the weekend in the company of a two and a three year old. Now normally when faced with spending any amount of time with children I break out in a cold sweat. It's not that I don't like children I'm just not very good with them.

With my baby sitting head on I played the part. Adopt crouched over position suitable for picking up the tiny people when they fall over, use the friendliest non patronising baby voice I can find, and I was good to go.

First off I was forced on to a trampoline with the three year old, fun fun fun. But actually surprisingly it was quite fun. Who wouldn't want to spend an afternoon on a trampoline? I felt like a little kid again, except that my hand that was holding his was considerably larger.

I pushed a buggy for the first time too. The little one was fast asleep, probably best seeing as the ride was quite bumpy. I was surprised by the weight of the buggy and didn't realise how difficult the steering would be. I ended up going round in circles and getting the wheels stuck in the mud.

Back in the house, buggy away and trampoline out of sight, we played with little toy cars. Chasing the little ones around the room with a police car was really good fun. I wasn't too fond of them driving the cars up and down my face, but that was nothing a little tickling couldn't stop.

Speaking of tickling, I read the 'Mr Men' book 'Mr Tickle' to the boys. They really enjoyed it and I had their full attention for the whole story. They liked the parts where I tickled them and giggled lots.

There where lots of cuddles over the weekend. The one yr old liked to sit on my knee and drink chocolate milk. I love the feeling of cuddling babies, god I never thought I'd say that, but it just feels really warm and well, cuddly.

This was the point that I was feeling broody. The little one rocking gently on my knee, drinking chocolate milk. The toddler playing cars on the floor, all angelic and sweet looking. That was when I thought to myself, yes I would really like to have a baby. I would like nothing more than to go forth and pro create!

Then the little one pulled a rather strange face, a look of pain and then sudden relief. I felt a warm heat on my knees, and then I smelt it. I may have pushed a buggy for the first time, but today was definitely not the day to learn how to change a nappy.

Then the toddler pulled the biggest bogey that I have ever seen out of his nose! Eek!!!

Too much! Too much! Too much!

And pass the children back, go home to my lovely child free zone, straighten back out, put on normal voice and relax.

Feeling broody?

No.

Love

Laura

xxx