I’ll clean him and drive him and call him George

• By Alison
• 30 August, 2010
• 1 Comment

Meet George, he’s been part of our family since 1998, the year before we got married. He took us around Europe on our honeymoon, and has been a staple part of camping holidays ever since. He’s also been quietly rusting away and falling apart over the years which is a travesty brought on by lack of a secret money stash to throw at him.

Recently Mr Boxer Shorts did something we’ve never done before. He loaned George to a friend of his to go away on holiday in. It was a friend from a long time ago, reaquainted through the miracle that is facebook.

Try and wrap your head around the enormity of this. Would you lend your children to someone you didn’t know?

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What goes on on holiday, stays on holiday.

• By Alison
• 29 July, 2010
• 1 Comment

We’ve just spent a glorious week on holiday in Crete, nestled in a tiny village near the sea, in a house that was built by pirates, and rebuilt by honest men. It was like stepping into another world, with another set of values entirely, as I discovered when I inquired about the security facilities before we left.

The house was going to be home to not just us, but another couple upstairs, and two young girls downstairs. As I was taking my laptop, I wanted to ensure that the bedroom was lockable to keep it secure. As it turns out – the room could have been locked if we’d had a key, but we didn’t. And didn’t actually care either…

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Bravery and bribery, a winning combination

• By Alison
• 11 April, 2010
• 4 Comments

My oldest daughter is no spawn of my loins when it comes to fun parks. She can’t be – there is just no way I can have given birth to … Continue Reading →

Mamma’s on speed, baby

• By Alison
• 17 March, 2010
• 1 Comment

I was riding in to work today on the scooter. It’s a fantastic little machine, despite the fact that its seat is now gaffa taped back together, and makes some … Continue Reading →

I’m dreaming of a white christmas. Frickit.

• By Alison
• 19 December, 2009
• 8 Comments

I’m dreaming of a white christmas, just like the ones I’ve never known. Where rubbish bins glisten,  and children listen to pet cats buried in the snow. I grew up … Continue Reading →