Wishy-washy

I am beginning to think I have an obsession with laundry. Not only do I find myself debating the finer points of fabric conditioners while going round the supermarket, but M and I actually spent 5 minutes in Lakeland the other day looking at pegs. Not just any old pegs either - these ones were pastel colours, with special cushioned grips. Mine are currently the traditional wooden type, with a few aberrant plastic gripper ones thrown in (I think we inherited these with the house), housed in an old dishwasher tablet tub. What I really need is a peg bag...or a life.

Scary

M and I went on an outing today to a farm. Nothing spectacular, just lots of goats, rabbits, sheep and pigs etc to stroke, a few mini tractors to pedal around on, a bouncy castle (every farm should have one), that sort of thing. But it struck me that it was rather a milestone - it was the first place I'd been to that was specifically for kids. And I hated it. It's the whole dumbing down thing, even to the fact that the cafe served "children's meals" (essentially beans, chips and fishfingers) rather than just small portions of normal food. The interpretation boards were patronising and kiddified, and the whole place was packed with 4-year-olds which really didn't help. Shame, because the goats were lovely, and enjoyed sniffing M's trousers (to much leg-waving excitement).

Simply the best

I have discovered the ultimate website for neurotic, to-do-list-obsessed YMs (I include myself in this bracket of course). If you've ever wondered how to make deep-cleaning tasks easier, how you could be more photogenic, or how to use a matchbox as a travel sewing kit, then head on over to www.realsimple.com for endless ways to improve your life. There's even a magazine, to help you on your way. I've just spent a happy couple of hours with the mag and a cappuccino in Borders. Not only can I now tell you the best swimsuit designs for your figure (handy hint: black is quite forgiving), I know how to hang mirrors and will be able to make several mean dishes with lemons. My life is complete.

Housekeeping

Not content with writing posts, I've tidied everything up as well, and added some links in the proper places. If you hang on a bit longer I'll do the washing up, put some washing on and mop the floor. It'll be riveting.

Update

So, M's bigger, I'm wrinklier (and it's definitely not just the result of sitting in the bath for ages), and we have a house. Phew.

Funny, how time suddenly speeds up when you have a baby. I could have *sworn* that it was only a week since I last posted, but I've just checked and it's actually a month. Oh bugger. It's a direct contrast to being pregnant, let me tell you, which actually went on for what felt like years. Decades even. It was interminable.

Anyway, back to the daily grind. Which just gets weirder. Take bank holidays, for example. They used to be great, but now are very annoying. I never thought I'd say this, but they are (apart from the fact that R gets a free day off work). Everything is either (a) shut or (b) open but shuts dead early, and (c) is full of people who should be at work. Except, bizarrely, Fenwicks. To which emporium of delights we hoyed ourselves this afternoon because it was raining, we have a small child and we needed to get out of the house. Strangely the place was deserted, apart from the standard-issue ladies of later years who always staff every counter. I can't quite believe that all of Newcastle has renounced shopping and taken up knitting or visiting art galleries, but you never know.