1. Things Fit in a RAV-4

This morning we took the Mad Whip to “The Park without the Playground” (as opposed to “George Bush”, “George Bush with the Playground” and “Daddy’s Park” which are all totally different experiences). We were worried about the RAV-4 being smaller than the Explorer as we tried to cram in the customary 3 kids bikes, two scooters and a Wave Board. They all fit. They never fit like that in the Explorer.

2. Cheapest Mid-Life Crisis Vehicle Ever

No, not the RAV-4. The Wave . It was the T-Bot’s birthday present, but it is The Daddy who has become the Wave-Master. He likes to wiggle his way past us shouting in a mock California-Surf-Dude voice “THE WAVE!“. As he did this at the almost-deserted park this morning I yelled back “I don’t think you are quite at the stage where 19 year old girls are going to be throwing themselves at you!”.

We turned the corner and guess who was standing there, open-mouthed.

Yes.

A gaggle of 19 year old girls.

3. Un-co? Try Ice Skating!

I have been promising Baby Sister ice-skating for such a long time. This weekend we finally made it to the rink. After all, she is about to turn 6.

Baby Sister is one of the most uncoordinated people I know. She trips over her own feet, knocks over anything in her path and only has to turn the handlebars on her bike to fall off it.

A little harsh maybe But once at the rink she did what we like to call an “Aunty Natty“.

(Sorry, Aunty Natty, but I promise you it is a compliment!)

She listened to the instructions, got up on those skates, and in 30 minutes was skating like a pro.

4. Fish and Chips

Yesterday we were at the supermarket and The Daddy left us by the donuts to go get some fish for dinner.

He returned brandishing cod wrapped up in white paper.

“Look!” he said, “Cod! And look at the price! We are going to eat fish and chips tonight!!”

Next, he put potatoes in the cart.

And then he tossed a deep fat fryer in there. Not kidding.

And before I knew it, we were at the checkout and he was trying to Google a recipe on his iphone, to be sure we had not missed any ingredients:

“BBC Recipe Fish and Chips“, he murmured urgently into the phone.

“Ah, not again! ” he sighed, as Google brought up “fishing trips”.

We never did get all the ingredients, and had to improvise. But the fish and chips were yummy. Yummy, if not good for the waistline.

Also,  I had to burn scented candles for hours afterwards.

He is talking about frying home made donuts next.

I think if I sat and wrote for a million years, I would never finish recounting the events of the past ten days.

But I can always make a start: this past weekend I donated my SUV to the Salvation Army.

Here it is, being led away by a tow truck.

After almost two years of urging by The Daddy, I had to give it up. Because, although I was sentimentally attached to it, housed it, hand washed it and bought it anything it wanted (new battery and cables! new cooling system! sticky tires! new rear end! - and by that I mean a double hip replacement, not some sort of cheap fancy plastic surgery…) , it did not repay my love.

The sad and sudden end to our relationship began Tuesday afternoon outside Walgreens, when the T-Bot, The Wictor and I got back into the car only for it not to start.

Again.

My first thought? “This is a sign that I must stop visiting drugstores”. Because last time the car wouldn’t start it was parked outside CVS. And my mind works like that. I can make the connection between an emergency 9-pack of toilet tissue and $879 worth of repairs in the time it takes to click your fingers.

And clicking his fingers was no doubt what the Ford service advisor was doing as he processed my car. Clicking his fingers as he sang gaily “We’re in the money! We’re in the money! We gotta lotta whaddit takes to get along!” Although it took him precisely 30 hours to get to the point of gay abandon, at least over my particular car. Due to the fact that they had work “backed up” like nobody’s business.  Or like a clogged toilet. Choose the metaphor you prefer. Personally I choose the latter where my local Ford dealership is concerned, and yes I do consider it everybody’s business that you have sh*tty service, Ford. Actually I do.

(I would like to stop here to mention specifically the day I took my car in to Ford for an oil change appointment at 9am, informed the service advisor that I needed it back for the school run, was told it was no problem, heaved my 1 year old in his car seat into the courtesy bus, sat at home car less all morning, started calling at noon to be told each time that my car had “just gone into the shop” , requested the courtesy bus at 1.30, got into it at 2, and arrived to see my car parked out front. And then they told me there was nothing to pay - because they had not gotten around to doing the oil change yet.

I am not even going to go into the rear window hinge repair they did under a recall, during which they broke the hydraulic seal on the hinge and then refused to repair it because it was not covered under the recall. OK. I just went into it. Because I am mad.)

So, putting all rancor aside, before I could actually get my car to the service advisor I had to call some people I am very very familiar with. The AAA. I get on well with the AAA. We have been seeing each other quite regularly for over a year now. We are friends. They tow me. They don’t charge me (well, apart from my yearly membership fee) and we part company on good terms.

Then I went to see some other good friends of mine, Entreprise Rent a Car. Their office is on the Ford compound, you see. Which makes it very very convenient to rent a substitute car, at vast expense, every time my main ride refuses to start.

Only, not any more! This is how desperate I was to get rid of Ford, in fact, to never set foot on their premises again:

I took my family on vacation!

We spent two whole evenings at Disneyland! the Toyota Salesroom!

And we emerged with this:

(A stock photo! Because I am such an awesome Mom that I forgot to take a photo of my kids with the new car - until 10 minutes ago. At which point I discovered it was dark. And snowing.)

And yes, it may possibly take us hurtling down the highway with the throttle jammed open, who knows. I don’t take the hype all that seriously, considering the fact that for almost 5 years, until about 6 weeks ago actually, I was unknowingly driving a car which could have spontaneously combusted at any moment.

Or just randomly broken down.

So, here we are all happy happy happy, the car is quiet, just the right size and the seats are clean. I got free this and free that and even free oil changes. And it doesn’t guzzle gas.

It feels good - apart  from that big bruise on my shin where I keep kicking myself for not doing this earlier.

Can you say “Good Riddance to Bad Rubbish” here? Or does that sound like Hugh Grant should be mumbling it through his fringe?

Maybe, this being the USA, I have to say “Good Riddance to Bad Trash”?

Many many bloggers are taking part in Project 365 right now, taking lovely daily photos of their surroundings to impress the world.

I love getting a viewpoint of their daily life, whether it be their walk to work, or their kids.

Unfortunately you won’t see any daily photos from me anytime soon, but last night, after a stressful day which began by spilling a whole packet of couscous grains onto the kitchen floor, I felt relaxed enough to document a typical evening.

After seeing the results,

I think you will agree,

that Project 365 is not for me.

So, here goes:

Dinner Prep. The Fates are trying to tell me something. Probably that I am not meant to have a clean floor.

Moving on. Pre-dinner drinks to take away the stress of the endless sweeping:

First thought? I wish the beer companies would stop trying to be witty. That is not the slightest bit funny.

Oh…

I don’t think it says “p*ss off”. They actually want me to pry off the top.

I may need glasses.

The Daddy idly browses a magazine. Wonders if this homely looking specimen would agree to be our "au pair".

If you don’t get this, check out the photos on Great Au Pair, and count the number of applicants you would trust with your husband.

I promise, you have that many fingers.

It would be lovely to have an au pair though, because of this:

In the meantime there has been a lot of noise going on. No panic, it was just the kids trashing the upstairs lounge. So that's OK then.

Next, I try to distract myself from the mess by focusing on the cat. Or mostly, not focusing on the cat. To be fair, he is not a willing participant.

Smile, Fiji! I said smile, not sniff...

OK. Keep still animal, we’ll try one more time, OK?

Gee, thanks. Very attractive.

Whew. Dinner’s over, the kids are in bed, time for some peace and quiet.

Except, there’s a strange noise coming from the lounge.

It looks like we have an escapee…

...and he found himself a new toy.

Perfect end to a perfect evening.

Don’t you think?

Tomorrow is the 100th day of school and Baby Sister is supposed to go in dressed as a 100 year old lady.

Luckily we still have some silver hairspray left over from Halloween and she is going to wear her ballet tights ‘cos they go baggy.

“Hmm… ” I said, “…and I’ll see if I have something to paint some lines on you, to look like wrinkles”.

“Why?”,  she asked seriously.

“Because old people have wrinkles on their faces”

“Oh!” (studying me closely) “You mean like the ones on your face?”

“Yes. Like the (sigh)… ones on my face.”

“So you are going to draw wrinkles all over, all around my mouth and eyes -  just like yours?”

***

Talking of wrinkles, I have done something absurd. I just bought my first ever dryer.

To be fair, it is really only half a dryer - I bought the Euro model which as well as being half the price is a teeny tiny little number. I was hoping its small stature would encourage me to (cough) only use it when really needed or for emergencies, as my lack of dryer has, until now, been more or less my only contribution towards saving the environment.

But now I fear it will just have me swearing on a daily basis as I try to cram all the contents of my XXL Texas-Sized washer into it in one go.

And I bet all that cramming will negate the whole reason for the dryer, which was to eliminate wrinkles.

I mean, wrinkles in my clothes.