Wednesday, November 18, 2009

The more you watch, the more you learn?

When I was a child, there was no such thing as TV in the morning. I still remember the test card. I have vague memories of BBC2 not even broadcasting until the afternoon.

By the time I was teenager, Channel 4 (4, I tell you - how many channels does a person need, I thought) had been invented and breakfast TV had arrived. Not that I ever watched it. My parents didn't believe that anything could be better than the Today programme on Radio 4 (Radio Bore according to Recaro).

Times. How they change.

Now I let Peaches watch Cbeebies and I've even been converted to Channel 5's Milkshake.

I wouldn't have done this except that I read a Zoe William's article in The Guardian where she declared it the market leader in toddler telly. I'm easily led.

So this morning, Peaches was watching the Little Princess. I'm fond of this programme. We read the Little Princess book about potty training to Peaches for a month before getting the potty out. And what do you know, she grasped the basics of potty training by the age of 2. Give or take a few accidents.

This morning's episode didn't seem to have much in it that was educational, except for a plot element where it was explained to Little Princess that it was okay for her to 'change her mind'. 'Everybody does it' apparently.

As I tried to dress Peaches for the day ahead, she objected to her black leggings. Or liquorice legs as I like to call them. Peaches said 'No, I want the pink flower leggings'.

Since such leggings DO NOT EXIST it was easy to no. I put everything else on her and said that's okay she could go to the childminder's in her knickers. I thought I'd at least postpone the battle till I was a little more awake.

By the time I'd finished tidying up the kitchen I returned to the living room (or LOUNGE as Peaches likes to call it - oooooooh posh - the things she learns at the minder's...), Peaches was wearing her liquorice legs.

She smiled up at me. 'I changed my mind.'

The telly is staying.
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In other news, here's some pics of our weekend in Norfolk with Grandad and GrannyD, plus a couple of their mates. We stayed at the Victoria in Holkham.

Holkham beach has mahoosive sand dunes just made for hide and seek.


There was the strangest sense of being on a set, but honestly we were on a real beach.

Of course, despite the sunshine and laughter, things did end in tears. Peaches was far too tired to walk back across this huge beach and I wouldn't carry her. But while she lay on the ground, rolling about in the world of cross, I saw an opportunity to show you how big the sky is.

And then I put her on my shoulders and carried her back to the hotel for tea.

After all, everyone changes their mind sometimes.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Gunpowder, treason and plot

'Remember, remember, the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot'

For the uninitiated, non-British readers among you, 5 November is the day when the British light bonfires, burn Guy Fawkes effigies and set off fireworks.

This is all to celebrate the 17th Century capture and burning of a man called Guy Fawkes who was found in the cellars of the Palace of Westminster (Parliament) with barrels of gunpowder. He was scapegoated as the ringleader of a Catholic plot, which is why some towns go a step further and burn effigies of the Pope. I think that's gruesome and nasty and it's a relief not to live among people who feel happy doing that.

Some people take the opportunity to burn political effigies. I believe more than a few Margaret Thatchers and President Bushs have gone up in flames over the years.

But here in Whitstable? We just love a party on the beach.

Friends of the Fountain (not a secret society) get together under the direction of Tony H to light a bonfire and enjoy a huge firework display.

That's me sitting behind Peaches. I had just made it home from London which is why I'm wearing such a fab coat and a pair of boots instead of my usual scruffy stuff.

By the way, I had hoped for a winsome picture of Peaches looking up at the sky, but I couldn't wrestle the camera off of Recaro.

At least I can show you one of his rather strange photos of the fireworks though.

And a couple of lusher ones.

Thanks for stopping by.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

The hardest button to button

Can you help me?

I've knitted a scarflette (a neck warmer) as a present for a very chic friend. She's a tidy sort of woman - small and neat - and I think she'll like the idea of a neck warmer instead of a long scarf.

Plus it's quick to knit so it's a winning present idea.

I've raided the button box and found some options, but I can't decide which buttons to give up. I don't want to make a mistake in giving away our lushest buttons (the button box actually belongs to Recaro - but what's his is mine, right?).

First up - flat, slightly pearlised dark buttons with two holes.

Pale tortoiseshell four hole buttons.

Or leathery-looking rounded buttons with a cross.
Leave a comment to help me decide. Thanks for the help.