How to be a millipede.

I have not abandoned this, I have not forgotten this, and like so many other things, this is now another source of guilt. Guilt for not finishing, for not keeping up, for not being able to devote enough time and loving care to it.

Beloved (is he beloved??) and I are going through a very rough patch... It's been almost all-consuming. It's not working well at all, between us just now. I'll leave that story for another time though...

On top of that there is my little business. It desperately needs a boost in these times of downturn and despair, so I've decided to give it another outlet, namely through an Internet shop. Now, THAT... That is not as easy as it seems! In effect it means that I'll be running 2 retail outlets, one virtual one and one actual physical shop. Both will be drawing from the same stock, and so my usually messy book-keeping will now need to be brought up to scratch. I will need to allocate an individual identification code plus description to each article, and that is just the stuff that is working in the background... not a spot of designing has been done to present my online shop in a nice way yet!

It has suddenly made me realise how much is actually already involved in my shop here. When I signed up for the web hosting, I was asked if I wanted the basic package, which allows you to list up to 2000 products on your site, or if I wanted the more extensive package, which supports 10000 items. I laughed, 2000 items?? Haha! Of course that would be more than sufficient!
And then I looked at how everything needs its own identification number, and realised that I probably have around 300 different kinds of ribbon alone!! I don't dare to think of how many different buttons I have.... And those are just little things. Anyway, I've decided to start simple, and the ribbons and buttons might just have to wait for a space on my e-shelves.

And then... on top of that I've been sewing dresses, dresses and more dresses. Most of them not to order, just as one-offs, they are currently gracing the walls, shelves and rails in my little shop, and that, thankfully, has led to an order for 9 dresses! ..... Only snag? They have to be ready in 4 weeks! YIKES!!!

Well, I'll figure out one day how to be a millipede... all those hands would really be what I need.

And then there is one more thing.... I am missing my little Belgium, so so so so very very badly. It has been tearing me into pieces lately, and keep wondering what on earth I'm doing here in this cold country so far away from everything that is part of me...

Well, I'll keep you posted. And you will all be invited to the official opening of my Internet shop... once it is ready to go live. Hope you'll stick with me for now, I promise I'll post more once things calm down, in every possible way.

Love,

POC x

The WHAT??? (Mantyhose)

http://o.aolcdn.com/art/gat/asylum/3/1/mantyhose.html

Just visualise this: Beloved-6ft2, 16stone, hairy teddy bear-, in his morning routine struggle to get into his newly acquired "Mantyhose"!

It just doesn't bear thinking about. Mornings are bad enough when it comes to try and persuade him to actually "match" a tie to his shirt and trousers. It begs the question of how he would manage to add in to the equation a pair of patterned tights? The word "clown" springs to mind.

The next question is: What happens to all that lovely man-hair?
Is it acceptable to wear a very furry version of the Mantyhose?
Or do we submit our poor other halves to yet another chore of shaving, namely their legs?
(please please please say NO... I've shared my bed with a cyclist, and I can tell you, feeling a stubbly leg brushing against yours is neither pleasant, nor sexy!)

I'm sure Robin Hood looked very fetching in his tights, but something tells me that he would have baulked at these.

Somehow I just can't see it happening in this household, not any day soon anyway, unless they invent steel re-enforced toe-ends. The current situation is that Beloved manages to get something ladder-like (i.e. a great big hole around the toe area that tends to run upwards in a thin ladder-like shape) in his THICK SOCKS on a 2 daily basis, so how on earth he would cope with man-tights, God only knows.

And all the practicalities aside... Could you see your kids being taught the very serious subject of maths by a man strutting the latest fashionably patterned "Mantyhose"?

My beloved, the prison warden.

Beloved has done it..(again.... sigh!)

He's a desperate scatterbrain at the best of times, with the scattering of brain generally peaking in the mornings. The thing is, he needs looking after. When left unsupervised, things inevitably go wrong.

My function, apart from being the loving other half, is that of P.A.

In the mornings he has an early start, the alarm goes off at 6, but often he's up and about before that. I, myself, have, with a bit of luck, just about fallen asleep by that time. I do generally wake up, but find myself just too dazed, confused and bleary-eyed to get up. So, beloved tends to get up on his own, have some breakfast, after which he sets off on a one hour and fifteen minute journey to work.

When I get up, around 7.30, to get the Little Haggis ready for school, I am no longer surprised to find a range of forgotten items. They vary from his packed lunch to his mobile phone and on occasions I will find a range of "well done" and "great work" stamps or a lost and lonely looking protractor.

Beloved is a Maths teacher, and so my house is littered with a cornucopia of all things mathematical.

This morning was no exception. The first thing I noticed as I put the kettle on for my morning rescue coffee, was his packed lunch. Lunch moved into fridge, I went about the normal business of getting L'Haggis' breakfast, last minute ironing of a school top and generally letting the coffee do its work of waking me up.

L'Haggis has started to walk to school by herself recently, so in the mornings, I see her off at the front door with hugs and kisses and the compulsory motherly "be careful!".

As she was ready to set off this morning, I went to get the keys to unlock the door.

...


That is, I tried, but could not find them anywhere.

I knew there could only be one culprit: Beloved!

And so - thankfully he had actually managed to take his mobile, unlike the day before, when that was the item of the day to be forgotten - I called him up and asked if he knew where my keys were...


Him:"mmmm...no idea...., why?"


Me: "could you have picked them up by mistake and have them in your pocket?"


Him:"Don't think so, why would I do that?"


Me:"Could you just have a look, so that I know if there is any point in turning the household on its head in order to find those keys?"


Him: "I'm doing that now.......... pause-rustling of objects-pause...... No.. Don't have them..... pause.... Oh, ah, ermmmm... well, ermm, I've just found them in my pocket, erm, must have picked them up, not sure why I did that.... sorry"


Me: "Do you realise that that means you've locked us in?"


Him: "Oh......"



We are now locked up in the house for the day. It's not a disaster, in fact L'Haggis thinks it's great, just like a bit of an adventure. Thankfully, I don't need to go out for any reason, and my shop is currently closed for a couple of weeks anyway. Had that not been the case though, I would have been unable to open up, and that is NOT GOOD! We can still get out into the garden, but that's where it ends, the garden is completely walled in. Oh, we do have ladders of course, and we could use them to get over the wall into the neighbours garden, but somehow I just didn't think that was a suitable route for L'Haggis to take to school this morning. There's time enough to brave the 8 foot wall if a fire broke out...



Currently Little Haggis is happily playing with the two cats, while I write this. Last night she made a drawing. Paper and pencils in hand, she sat and observed me, whilst drawing away. Of course I wasn't allowed to have a look. It was very near her bedtime, and we were all ready and showered, dressed in our jammies and dressing gowns. I did not get the permission to look at her drawing last night. Instead, she decided to make an envelope and told me I was allowed to open it in the morning.

She's captured me really well. It's me alright, complete with the big boobs, wrapped up in my spotty dressing gown, laptop on my lap. She has even made a great job of the setting too, detailing the objects around me.

Like mother, like daughter... Drawing is in our blood, and this little one has definitely inherited the artistic gene.

Btw... The picture on top of my site is the last painting I've completed. Those who are familiar with the Berwick-upon-Tweed lighthouse might feel a hint of recognition. I did apply a healthy dose of artistic license though. I don't like concrete, so grass it had to be instead.

Hoping to get my paint brushes out this afternoon, God I wish this little break could go on forever.