If it’s ok with you I’d rather go without the crap in my slippers, thanks.

Imagine, if you will, a small kitten sitting at the feet of its owner, largely going without any sort of attention. It’s small, cute, warm and furry. And it knows it ( cos cats are smarter than they let on. See a “working cat” on a regular basis? No ? I rest my case. ) And yet, despite the fact that the owner *chose* the kitten, they’re not spending 24 hours a day in adoration and they’re way behind on their daily quota of stroking, ear scrunching and sly nuzzling when nobody is looking.

Kitty isn’t happy.

Don’t get me wrong, kitty knows it’s loved. Kitty knows it will be fed, but dammit… what’s a kitten to do to get a little attention around here?
I’ll tell you what.
Kitty shits in your slippers, that’s what.
Kitty will get away with it, cos you love them. But from that moment on you’ll be keeping one eye on the cat and your slippers in the wardrobe.
The moral of this gripping tale?
Sometimes you have to crap where you shouldn’t to get the response that you should.

On an entirely related note, this is today’s prompt :
“An out of control train is about to run over a pile of happy puppies, do you…”

It made me chuckle. I can recognise kitten poop when I smell it and having had cats for a long time I keep anything I don’t want used as a latrine off the floor.

Sure as little brown nuggets usually aren’t raisins this post is going to have the following responses :
1) Outraged bloggers are going to post their outrage to the perilous position of the puppies that don’t exist being potentially massacred by a train that isn’t there. There will be indignant blogging or a pointed lack thereof.
2) Bloggers with a conscience tempered with a sense of humour will show their displeasure at the thought of implied peril, but will blog about it nonetheless with a view to tingeing it with a touch of silliness.
3) Bloggers who like to entertain will turn it into a comedy.
4) Bloggers who take things literally will attempt a reasonable reply to make the best of the situation and thereby the least possible casualties. And will feel warm and fuzzy inside as a result.
5) Tech bloggers will invent a device that manages to save all the puppies, and the global fuel crisis as an encore.
6) Surrealist bloggers will view the scenario from the standpoint of an aubergine.
7) The PostADay team will be smug about the sudden peak in blogging caused by deliberately posting a provocative topic where some cute little puppies are going to end up pate no matter whatever way you cut it.
8 ) Bloggers who like to whip people up into a frenzy will relish the opportunity and blatantly post something outrageous just cos it’ll make them giggle.

My answer to the topic then?

“An out of control train is about to run over a pile of happy puppies. You are standing at the control switch and can pull the level to direct the train onto a different track, saving their lives. But that other track has a smaller pile of equally happy puppies on it.”

Mash those suckers, scoop them up and serve them for dinner. That way you end up with lots and lots of very happy reprieved chickens 🙂


Expecting a post , were you?

Well, there isn’t one.

The truth is, I’m off to bed in a minute. I’m just exhausted and I feel as if I have a dead weight upon my shoulders. And by “dead weight” I mean “Two 4 year olds who didn’t sleep well last night and were off school today just so they could huddle together in a corner and decide which of Mama’s buttons to push and in which order… followed by a fistfight with random outbreaks of biting and pinching”.

It’s been delightful. I could just feel my ovaries shriveling every time I was in their presence , and I was so desperate to get away I even did some housework. If they keep this up I may have to dust too 😦

So instead of some fascinating insight into aardvarks or something, this post is going to hurl some links at you of fellow bloggers. Some are old hands and will act as inspiration, some are newbies with barely a few posts under their belt who might appreciate a few visitors. Some blogs are strange, some are beautiful. Some are just snapshots of their lives, some are just quirky fiction, but I encourage you to at least look at a couple, ‘cos you never know… you might just like them 🙂

In no particular order :


Right, sorted. I’m off to bed now. If you’re staying up please put the cats out before you go, or they’ll end up practicing their elite ninja skills on my face at 3am again.

Don’t scratch it, it just makes it worse.

“What are you looking forward to this year?” was today’s prompt.

This year is going to be my year of achievement, I’ve decided. Not the usual achievement I’m rather prone to – the achievement that occurs entirely by sheer luck. Or that other one where I mentally change all the rules half way through just to make it easier. Nope, this is going to be genuine 24 carat self-earned achievement that I shall be so overwhelmed by achieving that I casually slip it into conversation over the dinner table every night. Oh, the joy on their little faces as I bring it up for the 157th time. I can hardly wait!

So here, in no particular order, is my hastily thrown together list. It’s small, but it’s best to start off easy :

a) Blog every day for a year. I’m doing ok so far, but traditionally my crumbling point tends to be somewhere around mid-March. I think I must have 7 or 8 blogs chronicling the appalling weather in winter and not much else. To save me falling into that trap again I shall be mostly avoiding the topic. Just assume at any given point that it will be piddling down here and chances are you’d be spot on.

b)Learn Dutch to a standard whereby I can actually contribute to conversations. I’m rather fed up with standing there, grinning like a loon for 5 mins, before having to say ,”I’m sorry, what was that again?” after the usual uncomfortable pause. It’s not like I haven’t had the opportunity to learn. Hubby is Dutch, my two youngest are Dutch, my eldest can speak it pretty much fluently, and I own no less than 3 full Dutch language courses. I’ve also had plenty of incentive.

When I was pregnant with my daughter I got a rather.. intimate… infection. Had I been back in the UK I’d have popped down the Chemist, bought a pill, slapped on some cream ( though obviously I’d wait until I got home for that one ) and in no time at all I’d be able to stand at the bus stop without having to inconspicuously mince on the spot. However, I wasn’t in the UK. And if having to mime “I have vaginal thrush, could you show me where I can get cream for the itching, please?” isn’t an incentive to learn the language pretty damn quick then nothing is.

c) Do more things that I love instead of habitually putting it on the metaphorical back-burner and metaphorically forgetting about it until the smoke detector goes off ‘cos I’ve burnt a hole through the bottom and I’m metaphorically buggered. That means more film watching, more crafts, more embracing my inner child, more cat stroking, more long walks in the park,more fun!Frankly, I could pop my clogs tomorrow through something entirely unforseen like spontaneous human combustion and all I’d leave Hubby by way of remembrance would be 3 wardrobes full of fabric, buttons, wool, watercolour pencils and needle-nosed pliers. No cash, obviously, I spent that all on random craft crap off eBay.

It’s a short but do-able list. Should failure occur I shall be looking forward to spending the rest of the year attempting to deny this post ever happened… so let’s just leave it between you and me, yeah?


I’m not feeling terribly well. I think travelling in the freezing cold for 6 hours wearing nothing but leggings, a sweatshirt top and a grimace wasn’t the best of ideas. Despite being home for 3 hours now I’m still shivering, so I’m going to be Mrs Sensible and get an early night.

That means no 3664855 word epic for you tonight, my lovely reader persons. Rest assured I shall be in bed thinking of new and improved ways to waffle at you tomorrow. In the meantime here’s one of my favourite photos I took ( I’ve taken ? Damn, all correct usage of grammar appears to be stored in my cold blue fingers ). I know, it’s a bit of a cop-out for a post unless you’re doing a photoblog, but in my defense I think it’s rather a good one and I would have probably have posted it anyway 😉


Stuff & nonsense. But mostly nonsense.

“Share something that makes you smile”

I’ve actually re-written this post 5 times with personally smile-worthy somethings such as:

“Despite having 3 children I can still run for the bus without having to change my underwear at my destination. My final destination that is, not the bus. Even in The Netherlands they frown on that sort of behaviour.”

or the slightly more succinct :

“I have nearly all my own teeth.”

Then there’s :

Stationery ( oh sweet Lord, how I do love you pens, pencils, notebooks & glue )
Furry handbags
UK teabags
Chocolate covered nuts
Pretending to be asleep and getting away with it
Snails & frogs
DVD box sets
Music aimed at kids half my age played through headphones at a high enough volume to rupture my eardrums

… but I could go on forever, you know how I do so love to ramble. So I narrowed it down to the single thing most likely to get a smile out of me when the rest of the world is getting the “I have chopsticks in the kitchen. You have a pair of eyes. Go on, just keep pushing…” look. And it’s this :

Nicky and Mina

Yes, we do love you. But we *will* crap in your slippers on a whim if it amuses us.

My cats, Nicky and Mina. They’re only 6 months old but they’ve had me wrapped around their little claws since they the first moment I caught sight of them in all their small , warm & purry glory. I’m totally smitten. I can forgive Mina for tipping the bin over. I can let the fact Nicky wakes me up in the morning by sinking her teeth into the end of my nose slide. ‘Cos that’s what true love is.. not minding that you’ve got a stiff neck because the cats are stretched out in the middle of the bed and you’ve spent the night gripping the bed frame for dear life rather than disturb them.

“Stupidity..” you say?? Pah, you’re just jealous because you don’t get to tread in stray poop nuggets at 6.30am when you’re half asleep and groping for the light switch.
Which reminds me… I’d best go change their tray. Again.