Beetroot chutney anyone?

It's Tuesday and I've decided to make beetroot chutney!! Think I need to go see the special head doctor as it has been a busy day, but I might give some out as teachers presents for E's helpers at school. They do a wonderful job, although I guess beetroot is a bit of an acquired taste. Here is the link to the recipe:

http://www.allotment.org.uk/recipes/chutneys/beetroot-chutney

Almost ready for Xmas and have actually managed to stay quite sensible in terms of my spendages.

Sick

Phew... we have gas! No I'm not referring to the sprouts, but the fact that Southern Gas Networks have fixed the water-logged gas pipes near our road, and we can now stop huddling around the fan heater, interrupted only by running between two rooms.

Sinuses still blocked. I spent new years eve with needles in my face and vacuumed cups on my back, trying to remedy this with the natural approach. Hasn't really worked yet. C, our middle one, has also been very poorly and my elder sister returned to Wales from our house with germs she'd never had before.

The good news is that all this has allowed me to sit guilt-free in front of any amount of rubbish TV over the holiday period, stuffing in whole cans of Pringles and Quality Street, (thanks nan!) and remaining in my pj's all day long. Admittedly, I quite enjoy the lack of responsibility which goes with mild illness; too ill to do the washing, but well enough to look at Asos. Perfect.

Happy new year to you.

Hass?

Here is a poem which I have made, inspired by one of my favourite ingredients' to eat and use on skin, (I obviously have too much time on my hands!!)

Hass?

Avocado

I don't know you;

You barely know yourself.

You lose all sense of shape and form

When I squeeze you from your shell.

If I didn't fetch the lemon juice,

You'd turn to brown from green

How you alter when set free

From your tough, black scaly skin.

"And all for love, and nothing in return."

I have been researching English quotes which will compliment my skincare products and the one I've used as my title for this post is my favorite so far, uttered by a man from Elizabethan England. There are some really very beautiful words out there, modern and classic. Literature is something in our heritage that we should be more actively proud about. Maybe we should be concentrating more on passing this sort of stuff onto our kids, than arguing with them about how long they've been on Minecraft. But that takes a lot of effort, right?

I have banned computer games (pretty much!) from the boys' weekday activities and come 3.30 on a Friday I would literally eat my own shoe if they asked me just once for some reading time or even a new book in place of the inevitable argument about how long they will each get on the ipad. Myself and E, my eldest son, (when pushed a bit), are the only ones who really enjoy reading in our house and like most others, I find myself having to think of ever more imaginative scenarios to get them to do their weekly reading quota, usually at about 7.30pm when we are all edgy and I am close to turning myself into a ball and rolling down the hallway into bed. The school teachers say that lacking enthusiasm for literature is a 'boy thing.' I really believe this is just a logical, adult brain's way of letting kids off the hook, and there are lots of boys in all my childrens' classes who really love to read and write stories, (their mums talk about it loudly in the playground). The fact is that they will all undoubtedly spend most of their adult lives staring open-mouthed at screens whether they are reading a book or not, which I find quite scary and sad. Save our libraries I say!

Anyway, where did I put the emergency sweet bribes.....?

A poem: One for the Mums

I write lots of poems and hope this one makes you :)))

She comes in the night

To fold & hang clothes,

And pair up your discarded shoes.

Sleeves rolled back tight

On solid knees bent,

She scrubs off the skids when you've pooed.

And When you've been sick,

There's beads on your brow

And your tongue's the hue of old spinach,

It's she who will rub,

Hug, kiss and soothe - 

She don't mind that your breath smells of cabbage.

Even when you're grown

The fairy's still there,

You wonder who bothered to launder.

But you'll know she's been round

'cos your cups will be clean

And your books alphabetically ordered.

Water

The state of the weather also sums up a big theme of my week.

Can't imagine what it must be like to have your home and / or business flooded. Aside the obvious damage, I've heard it smells quite a bit, is this true? My elder sister lives in South Wales but she is in a valley so is saved by the big hills.

C - the middle one - has been getting bullied at school. He tends to hold onto things, I sensed something was up and then it all tidal waved out at bed time. He has asthma and certain boys omit him from football at playtimes. They've also been name- calling; fairly typical really. I immediately spoke to his teacher ( at least 15 years my junior) and the head master. Was shocked to hear that the latter has suggested C needs counselling, and he couldn't really specifically state why this was, other than just saying " he gets angry....he gets a look about him." he then spoke openly about another boy who has benefited from the school's counselling service. I know this boy and his family and was certain their mum would be over the moon that I had been given this information. Later that day, I received a text from the mum of this boy, saying we should meet up to talk about the 'potential counselling.' Do they not teach heads about confidentiality? He needs to quiet his mind; cease the running water. I have arranged another meeting to give him a lesson.

Business-wise things have been choppy. I have had to take ( another) serious look at my finances because some of my packaging needs redesigning. This also means re-designing and printing labels, always costly. I am also desperate to launch two new products which I have a lot of faith in. Let's hope I can improve the flow of my cash ( sorry!)

Haven't been able to write this week as I have been working in another role as nurse for 3 days.
Yes, I have donned my old navy sack which billows in the wind and could possibly propel from house to house for my nursey visits. (Who needs a car??) It has been eventful.

Yesterday I visited what could possibly be the most unhygienic flat ever. If I said balls of fag ash everywhere, coupled with the nostril-shattering smell of rotting flesh, you may get an idea of this man's abode. He is  wheelchair-bound with ulcers to the base of both feet which I was directed to re-dress by the nurses at the base. I used to work as a practice nurse a few years ago, so am quite au fait with wounds - in fact, I actually have quite a strong affection for a big old oozer. This guy has a penchant for online gambling, (his words, not mine), and has clearly not looked after himself for many years. I felt genuine compassion for him, until he tried to hit on me whilst I was still dressing his feet. The next (much older) gentleman I visited did the same, asking me if he should "remove the crown jewels from his pants," a completely unnecessary manoeuvre for an upper arm vaccine. In both cases, like Ross Kemp, I got the hell out of there!

The funniest incident happened today, when I visited a bed-ridden lady, who proceeded to reprimand me every time I said the words "OK." I obviously say this a lot, because my 15 minutes with her was spent ricocheting reprimands from her corner for daring to utter the phrase. At one point I even replied 'OK' when she asked me to stop, (unconsciously accidentally on purpose?), causing her to punch the eiderdown. I asked her what she hated so much about the word - she replied that although it does appear in the English dictionary, it is not Proper Vocab! Hmm. I assume she's never texted anyone.

This has all been in aid of christmas gifts, the time of year when I part with hundreds. My youngest was born 2 days before the 25th December, making it sightly more dear, (why did I not time this better? - oh yes, he wasn't timed at all), than it used to be. My family members keep on nicking my present ideas too, which is infuriating. My mum texted me the other day, explaining that she'd bought the younger two their scooters. These were planned to be our main presents to the boys which I made the mistake of mentioning. I replied with thanks, not wanting to seem ungrateful, but I'm on a tight budget this year - there's only so much available for £60. Maybe someone should invent a 'gritted teeth' icon for texting. (The bed-ridden one would just love that).

'A' has been obsessing (and I mean obsessing) about a new car for us. He sold his old M3 and pride and joy last week, and has had to take the bus several times since, which he hates. He wants to get us a white Kia, which is fine except for the colour. White no. I've never liked it, especially now that it seems to have become a status / fashion symbol. Don't get it. He will probably get his way though, because I simply can't be bothered to have another row about it.

I'v actually enjoyed the nursing though; nice to give something and use my skills again. Lots of these people live alone and have no relatives nearby, if at all. Often the district nurses are their only daily contact with another human being and we are always rushing out. It doesn't take much to give them a little lift with a few kind words though - even if they are trying to flash their willy at you!