Being nominated for a Travel Blog award feels, as I look out of my window onto damp, grey London – a little bit like being nominated for Parent Blogger award when you haven’t got any children.
I AM NOT TRAVELLING. I AM SITTING HERE IN MY LITTLE HOUSE WITH MY CHILDREN. My daughter is behind me doing maths revision. She’s listening to someone on her computer – I thought that someone said “Let’s Talk About Sex” which perked me up a little on this cold rainy day but actually she said “Let Talk About Sets“. Boring. I am reduced to talking about failed washing attempts with the woman in the school uniform shop where i had to go and spend a fortune this morning replacing all my son’s ruined stuff. Just to add to my general glow of happiness she said to me “well, don’t worry, at least you didn’t ruin anything valuable – imagine if you’d washed all your husband’s expensive white shirts at the same time!!” and I said “I haven’t got one of those” – “What? A white shirt?” she asked me……”no, a husband”. Then the poor thing didn’t know what to say even though I tried to look not too miserable.
I had my youngest son’s parents evening last night and lets just say it might be an idea to suggest that the honour of being a travel blog finalist should be passed on to somebody else more worthy because I am clearly never going to be able to go out again. I realise that only he can change his attitude to school and sort it all out and that it is not in my job description to go to school with him every day and make sure he presents himself in a highly impressive light on every level – but if I could, I would.
I need a magic wand. To transport my house and it’s contents – including my children obviously, but maybe not our old fat cat and annoying new kitten (who has come back from the vets sans bollocks looking alarmingly perky – he’s wearing a “bull collar” – cone like thing that makes them walk backwards, bump into things and generally go mad and has already broken two glasses – suspect loss of testosterone is going to make very little difference to him. Although my daughter tells me that it doesn’t just happen overnight as the hormones are still in his blood and it will happen over time) …..somewhere warm and lovely.
If you had a magic wand where would you transport yourself? Where, if you could move your house would you want to be? What would the view be like from your window? Or maybe you are blissfully happy and would stay right where you are? In which case send me your favourite view. Best room with a view??
I want to go back to when we were living in Hong Kong and sit on the balcony and look at the view. Here is a very bad photo taken from my parents album circa 1980 when there wasn’t much going on down in Aberdeen from our view on The Peak:-
My friend Sally replied today via Facebook and she has sent me several pictures of where she wishes she was – her pictures are so great that I’m putting them here as well as in the slideshow:-
Her first picture is of the Northern lights at Brookside Close in Oregon:-
Then she wishes she was still in Manchester, feeding her youngest child in a suitcase – aaaah:-
and here he is on set amusing himself and everyone else by wearing a wig:-
Click on the continued link to get all the upload details…..