Bad Magician

Saturday morning belonged to me with an early start and a Parkrun. Sunday belonged to my husband with an even earlier start and a cycle challenge that involved a deliberately vague map route, some 50km and optional cafe stops. He completed it in about three hours without injury and only getting lost once. My involvement was to give him a lift to the starting point. I was slightly confused because he had told me it was in Kidderminster. The sat nav directed me in completely the opposite direction because it was in fact in Kidsgrove. Close enough!!

Charis, my ever helpful daughter, was not available to look after the little ones as she was occupied with her regular Sunday morning piano playing for the local church. Normally, taking Addy and Dylan  on a little adventure, especially with a dad and a bicycle, poses no problem. This time it was a bit different because it was a special day. Addy had been invited to a friend from school's birthday party.

The birthday party was not until 2pm but as soon as Addy woke up she was fussing about what to wear and what to take and whether there would be a bouncy castle or dancing..... Driving back in the car after dropping lycra clad dad off, she convinced herself we were lost and would never get home in time for the party. This level of anxiety never really subsided.

Eventually, the hour rolled close enough to 2pm to consider leaving. The present was wrapped, the card was written and Addy looked fabulous in a little blue party dress and her long blonde hair loose and slightly crimped from her ever present plait. We arrived at the party venue which happened to be at the same pub where big sister Ivy works. The combination of seeing her big sister AND going to a party proved too much.

My plan had been to drop her off at the party, which was in a separate little room away from the main bar, go and say hello to my barmaid daughter and have a coffee. Charis had accepted my invitation to come along, have a lemonade and then possibly take Dylan along to the park for a runaround whilst Addy enjoyed the company of her friends. Enjoying the company of her friends was maybe the last thing on Addy's mind.

I felt Addy's little body tense as we entered the party room. I was grateful that Charis was there to look after Dylan whilst I tried my best to settle Addy down and point out the fun she could be having. She was not easily convinced but I did eventually manage to edge my way out of the room and into the main bar. Coffee and lemonade were ordered, seats were occupied, Dylan was happily occupied with an electronic game and I started to relax.

Then the party entertainer arrived.

I have to admit that as a little girl I was deeply suspicious of adults dressed in strange clothing. I always hated the Santas that made appearances at the family Christmas parties held by the company my dad worked for. I can imagine now how mortified my parents must have been when I refused to play nice because that is exactly how I felt when Addy ran screaming from the man in loud floral suit and spotty hat.

I tired to calm her down (again!) and explain that he was a magician and was there to show some magic tricks to all the children. She screamed surprisingly eloquent but horribly rude reaons why he was a rubbish magician and she hated magicians. Her face was getting redder and redder with anger, as was mine with embarrassment.

Calm and reassuring assistance came in the shape of my wonderful daughter Charis. She totally earned her lemonade when she gently cajoled Addy back into the room, tiny step by tiny step, until Addy was joining in and shouting Abracadabra at the appropriate moment.

Why, oh why did the entertainer have to pick Charis to be his assistant for a trick.

I think Charis asked herself the same question as she was fitted with a strange rubber tubing device that enabled the flower suit man to create the illusion of water passing straight through her middle. As he poured the water into a large funnel attached to the tubing, it looked like some sort of strange home colonic irrigation ritual. The only question Addy was asking herself - and everyone in the pub and possibly neighbouring houses such was the volume and urgency of her voice - was WHY IS THAT MAN TRYING TO KILL MY SISTER!!!

By this time the birthday girl's mum had asked me to come back into the room to sort a hysterical Addy out so I was there to witness (and photograph!) Charis' humiliation.

Addy never really integrated properly back with the party. She sat with me to eat her plate of party food.

I was so disappointed that she had not allowed herself to join in, especially given how much she had been looking forward to it. However, as she left with her party bag, she was as happy as can be. Back home, she shared the treats inside the bag with her brother and talked excitedly about parties. Just don't mention the entertainer - it provokes an instant tirade about a bad magician that tried to kill my lovely big sister...

More ParkRunning

This morning I completed my second Parkrun.

It was one of those mornings when both little ones were still fast asleep so there was the promise of a luxurious (and rare) lie in. I cannot believe that the idea of getting up and running 5K was an alluring enough prospect for me to forgo said lie in - but such is the grip that the running bug has on me, it was.

The weather was a beautiful. The sort of weather that completely restores your faith in the possibility of spring. It was a bit fraught getting the little ones ready and out of the door but they had the promise of playing in one of the well equipped playgrounds that form part of Telford Town Park where we were headed.

My husband has an injury from falling off his bike (an absolutely stupid accident that would have been comedic had it not hurt him) so he was opting out of the run. My daughter's boyfriend was busy piling tons of rubble from a demolished wall into a skip. That left just me and my daughter to join the other participants - each driven to run for their own personal reasons and coming together to take part in this wonderfully friendly and relaxed event.

We ran.

I'm not going to say it was easy - it never is - but it was less of a struggle than the previous time when I was still recovering from a nasty cough and finding breathing a lot more difficult that it should have been. I was much more aware of the surroundings this time now that all my attention wasn't focused on gasping at  much needed oxygen. It really is a lovely place to run, especially in the sunshine. I enjoyed the moment so much more. A quick glance at my watch showed me that we were making good time (for us!) which was very motivating. A final push at the end gave me a finish I was proud of in contrast to staggering over the line last time.

As you cross the line, you are handed a token which you have scanned with your own personal barcode a little further on. By some magic, this enables the Parkrun people to put your results up on the website. I was absolutely delighted to have knocked a whole 2 minutes off my time.

To put our achievement into perspective, I should probably share a slightly embarrassing story. My daughter and I were intrigued by a Walker who had joined the Parkrun. I'm not talking about a casual stroller, this was a man in sporty shorts with the strange hip rolling action of speed walkers. He was ahead of us at the start but  it didn't seem too onerous a task to catch up and overtake him - after all, he was walking and we were running. This did not happen. For a while he was a steady distance ahead, tantalisingly close, but the distance started to open up. We were giving it all we had and he was charging away from us. Eventually, he disappeared from view. I'd like to think that this could be attributed to his athletic prowess and fantastic technique but I have to hold our plodding pace at least partly responsible!

My husband and two rosy cheeked children were there to greet and congratulate us at the finish. I loved that my little ones had got to play in the fresh air while we were running. There were no complaints from them when they were offered some additional playtime while my daughter and I went off to do a bit of shopping (seems a shame to be so close to a shopping centre and not take advantage!)

We bought ourselves a pair of running trousers each - slinky tight fitting ones instead of our tired old joggers. We are hoping that by dressing the part, we'll knock even more minutes off our Personal Bests!

St David's Day

I was a bit slow to realise that today was St David's Day. Living as I do close to the Welsh border, I did not want the day to pass without being commemorated in some small way. I had visions of doing arts and crafts with my little ones - painting egg boxes yellow to make daffodils - but I hadn't factored in how tired (and grumpy) Addy would be at the end of her first week back at school after half term.

I decided to abandon the daffodil project and concentrate instead on a welsh themed dinner. I found some good ideas on the BBC Good Food website but was somewhat limited by the ingredients I had available. I was unwilling to blow my weekly food budget by going out to buy extra groceries so I decided to make do with what I had.

My original meal plan for this evening was a lentil curry. I went ahead with that and also made a side dish of Welsh Onion Cake to create a Welsh/Indian fusion dining experience.

Welsh Onion Cake comprised of onions softened in butter sandwiched between layers of thinly sliced potato in a frying pan and baked in an oven. I'd never put my frying pan in the oven before but it was an all metal one and worked fine. The dish was supposed to be turned out onto a plate. Despite using a lining of greaseproof paper, a whole layer of potato (and the lining) stuck to the bottom of the pan. It all looked a bit of a sorry mess but it tasted great and went surprisingly well with the spicy lentils and rice.

The presentation of my Welsh Onion Cake was actually the least of my worries. I sliced the potatoes using a food processor and as I was removing the slicing attachment to wash up, I caught my thumb on the sharp blade. I didn't even realise I'd cut it at first, but the blood dripping from the end of my digit was difficult to ignore. My 16 year old daughter did her best to cover the wound with a combination of waterproof plaster oddments she found in the medicine cabinet but the blood just kept seeping out. My solution was to wear a latex glove to stop my bodily fluids from dripping in the dinner. It worked but it wasn't pretty.

Once the cooking was all done, I could have my cut dressed with a non-waterproof but much more effective covering

Even with the sore thumb, I really enjoyed my Welsh/Indian fusion experiment - and a bonus of my injury and non-waterproof dressing is that I can't possibly do the washing up!