Back in a Week!

So we're nearly off and away. I'm very excited of course but am literally running around trying to get everything sorted and organised so I can pack the kids off to mum's and not worry more than lots and lots!! The weather is so terrible here at the moment that I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a bit of good weather. Where did Spring go?

I've got a pile of new books to read when we're away, including Hilary Mantel's new book, 'Wolf Hall', and I might try to get my hands on 'The Girl who Kicked The Hornet's Nest', which apparently is out in paperback TOMORROW! The problem is that if I start to read that, I won't be able to put it down. What great company I'll be.

I feel as if I need this break almost more than any other I've had - the aches and pains are still there, and I haven't had them checked out, but I'm ok with that. We'll see how things are when I come home.

That's it then for a week or so. I'm not taking my netbook with me. I was going to but instead I've decided to have a real break from everything including my writing. So I'll post when I get back. But I'm sure you'll all survive somehow without me. Ha ha.

Monday Morning City

The sooty streets are shiny with rain. Driving over the Tyne Bridge - watching the people hanging off ropes, dangling over the river repainting meticulously the bones and body of the bridge - the traffic slows to a stop.

In the centre of the city, the shoppers unconcerned with the rain clog the pedestrian avenue. It's Easter and people scurry in and out of the shops. Old women carry mountains of chocolate eggs for their grandchildren, choosing carefully for each beloved treasure. Younger women manoeuvre buggies laden like shopping trolleys, the child hidden among the wrapping, patient and resigned.

Outside the overheated shops the homeless Big Isssue seller competes for attention with the busking saxophonist and the Polish accordion player who's always in the same place.

Containing all these existences and many many more, the city heaves and swells around the dramatic river which travels onwards to the sea, gulls calling and squawking in the salty air.

Seven Days and Counting

This time next week, I'll have dropped the kids with my mother and will be packing for our flight early Friday morning.

I CAN'T WAIT!

But I will miss Hattie especially. It's not favouritism, it's just that she's so small (nearly but not quite two). I hope she'll be ok - she'll wonder where I've gone whereas the others know. Should we take her with us? Surely not!

Still.

And as for the back ache - I'm still deliberating and kind of ignoring it until I decide. But, thanks for all your comments.....

Worry is a Good Friend of Mine

I'm writing this post having just picked the kids up from school. It's not the best time - arguments about changing out of school uniform, clamouring for biscuits and general shouting is ringing through the house.

But I'm worried. The ache in my back which I wrote about a while ago still hasn't gone. It seems to come and go a bit, which the pain used to do when I was harbouring an enormous tumour! I don't know whether to go and get checked out. As usual it's so difficult trying to decide whether to open that particular can of worms or not. I think to others it always seems quite simple - go and get checked out! But to me it isn't that clear. I expend a huge amount of desperate energy while the tests are happening, and I suppose in a way I'm beginning to think that I'll know soon enough for definite if it has come back just by the way I'm feeling. But that's scary too. I'm so tired (as usual) and I caught sight of my reflection today accidentally and was quite shocked how pale and generally grotty I look. That could be cancer-grotty or getting over some crap sinus-y thing-grotty. Who bloody knows.

Rog and I are off to sunny Majorca next Friday, without the kids! I'm looking forward to it more than I could possibly say. I don't want to spoil the run up to the trip by rushing hysterically in and out of hospital having tests, but neither do I want to spoil the holiday by worrying. However, if it has come back and I find out now I won't have the holiday at all. And I'm determined to have the holiday. Do I sound mad? Probably.

It's exhausting this worry it really is. And of course now I have to make tea and do all the other never-ending stuff which the kids expect and need. People are always telling me how lucky I am to have the kids and how they must help me to get through all of this. Yes... I'm lucky. But there have been many moments back when I was having my treatment, and subsequently too when I would dearly appreciate some space to sit down with a cup of tea, rest and worry in peace.

My Blog Award!

Thanks Nic at Diary of a Domestically Challenged Housewife for my lovely award.

But, Oh no - now apparently I have to tell you 10 random but true things about myself. That's kind of hard. The pressure! They may not be very interesting, I feel I must warn you. But here they are anyhow. Glass of wine to hand??

1. I wish I could play jazz clarinet in smoky bars, looking and sounding unbelievably amazing. This is as opposed to wondering if I should pick up the clarinet I haven't properly played since I was a teenager, and make some strange and not very groovy sounds.

2. I have always wanted to travel on the Trans-Siberian Railway. I have not given up on this dream despite the three small children which hold me down (or should that be anchor me ) in sunny Newcastle-upon Tyne.

3. I used to ride horses and I want to ride horses again.

4. I love to read in bed in the morning with many many cups of coffee. This doesn't happen very often.

5. I am a huge, huge, huge Bob Dylan fan.

6. I want a campervan.

7. I am going to the Green Man music festival this summer in the Brecon Beacons, Wales. We are camping... with all the kids!

8. I have a quick and fiery temper. Patience is a virtue which unfortunately I largely lack. I'm waiting for motherhood to mellow me!

9. I like cooking and love eating good food. Alas the waif-ish look is not for me. I used to be more waif-like though. Three pregnancies, life-threatening illness and severe and unwavering exhaustion plus an enforced, very severe and very early menopause don't help. Excuses, excuses!

10. I want to write a novel and see it published. I want this very, very much.

So, there you are. Fascinating, I'm sure you'll agree.

I'm passing this award onto:

My old friends,

Diney at Older Mums are Fun

Tracey at Uno, Dos, Tracey

Rebecca at Letters to the World

Anita at Beyond the Diapers and the Spills

and a new find of mine: Karen at Brighton Mum - Teenage Angst, whose blog I really enjoy reading as well.

I'm Not Seventeen

I really can't believe that I am 40. Nearly 41 actually.

I had one of those moments today sitting in the car waiting for school to finish. Do you know what I mean? When you feel as if you have just been jolted from a dream into reality and you are shocked by what that reality is! I think it was the song which was playing on the radio - I was transported back to being 17, and when Hattie suddenly made a noise in the seat behind me and I came to, I just could not believe that all those years had passed. I could not believe it. I felt like examining the stranger's face in the mirror.

And then I went to get the kids and took them swimming.

But the strangeness has stayed with me. I'm sure there's a lesson there - to appreciate what I have right now. I've had quite a lot of those lessons recently. Otherwise I can see that I'll be 80 (I bloody hope!) and not be able to believe that I'm not 40. But human nature being what it is - or maybe it's just my nature - it seems a tough lesson to learn.

It was such fun being seventeen though.

Playing on the Beach This Weekend

Here we are playing on the beach. Hattie is wearing her new blue coat which is way too big for her, but she doesn't mind.