September

September's a funny ol' month, isn't it?  We always seem to have a holiday in September (not necessarily the smartest thing to do in the same month that you have to pay for your car tax, MOT and insurance, vast quantity of repairs notwithstanding).  Flora started Big Girl Nursery, which has not been as stress-free as any of us would've liked.  And it's got COLD.  

The holiday was a hoot.  A week in Center Parcs in Sherwood Forest in September may not be everyone's idea of a rare holiday but it suits us just fine.  Let's face it, in heat waves (anything above 20 deg C) I have been known to actually swoon, and my fair, Scottish skin practically screams itself hoarse objecting to unfamiliar UV rays.

Flora is at just the right age to go to Center Parcs; old enough to enjoy play parks and swimming, chasing squirrels, trying to find fairies and attempting to cycle and roller skate aka free shit, and still too young to understand there's a lot of VERY expensive activities on offer.  It's an extraordinarily (and prohibitively) pricey place to go if you wanted to actually do anything you have to pay for.  Thank goodness we are a bunch of lazy gits who don't.  Some cool trees in Sherwood Forest though, lots of scope for Robin Hood- based frivolity. 

Before we went away, Flora started Nursery, three afternoons a week.  Day one was fine, day two she freaked and didn't want to go in at all.  It's not my thing to make her do something she doesn't want to do, mainly because I am a lazy fecker and can't be doing with the screaming, tears and mentalness that is three year old in meltdown, but here's the thing.....she loves the damn place!  When I pick her up, she doesn't want to leave, she spends the rest of the day telling us how it's her favourite place in the whole world, how much she loves her old friends, her new friends, dressing up, making smiley faces, not eating snacks and, her absolute favourite, outside playtime.  Then the next day, all morning, 'I don't want to go to Nursery, I don't like it!'  Needless to say, it's been a little trying.  Getting better though.  Following her wee holiday she seems a little happier; I've only had a plimsoll in the face once this week.

And it's COLD.  We/I have an unwritten rule that the heating doesn't go on until Andy's birthday, which is in October.  We never last that long (have you ever been to Scotland?!) but we try, however the temperature seemed to plummet this week leaving our poor wee house shivering on its foundations.  Yet, despite these Arctic conditions, I appear to have developed itchy 'hayfever eye'.  Or maybe it was the plimsoll.

Roller skating's coming on a treat.  Averaging only half a fall per session now.  Last crash was a belter though.  Lanky fella in front of me came to an abrupt stop when his legs stopped going in the same direction, his skates caught mine and we both ended up in a tangled heap. Coulda been the start of something beautiful if it weren't for the momentum that kept my skate going, going, going until the toe-stopper near disappeared up his arse *wince*  It's amazing how quickly you can pull yourself up, stutter apologies and skate off, red-faced and brown-stoppered.  

Sorry about that.

Laters, dudes.

Luv, Egg on a Stick