Barking up the wrong tree?

We had a breakthrough last Thursday and it was all thanks to Miss. Madeline. I am talking,of course, about Meg's rather tentative initiation into the world of ice and the skating thereon. We were having many excited conversations in the countdown to each Thursday lesson about how great skating is and just how much fun it can be. then after the lesson there were delighted announcements to anyone who would listen that she had just been ice-skating, what a clever girl I am! But while actually out there on the ice? Hmmmmmmm. Excitement quickly dissolved into a lip-trembling, wooden legged panic with a complete refusal to do the actions to Heads, shoulders, knees and toes. Poor old Meg.

I tried being supportive from the gate, and being on the ice with her but nothing was quite right. I was just starting to wonder whether ice-skating lessons were a good idea for a 2 year old when Miss.Madeline had a burst of inspiration. "Get her to bring one of her toys with her next time." So I did. We spent a week deciding which particular toy should share the ice with Meg - she picked the elephant called Monkey (all Meg's toys are currently called Monkey) and packed him into the car with her gloves and snow pants. When it came to skate-lacing time Meg denied any knowledge of poor old Monkey and refused point blank to take him with her. I put him in my pocket. Meg was duly delivered into the capable hands of Miss.Madeline and stepped bravely out onto the ice. Five minutes later, as anticipated, the lower lip commenced its wobble and Miss.Madeline zoomed over to me with a question, "Did she bring....?" she started.
"Yes, here," I replied holding out the elephant, "she brought Monkey." Madeline cast me a sideways glance but being completely up to speed with the foibles of her younger students (and her older ones but that's for another day), she accepted what I said and skated off to join Meg. And then it happened. The lip tremble metamorphosed into a smile, the wooden legs relaxed and Meg started to enjoy herself. There was the Throw-elephant-along-the-ice-and-skate-to-catch-up-to-him game, and the Let-elephant-ride-around-on-your-skating-helmet game, and the Roll-on-the-ice-because-you're-happy game, and the Drawing-on-the-ice-with-markers game, and the Flying-like-a-butterfly game (harder than you'd think) and generally having fun. Awesome.

Who knew that such a difference could be made by an elephant called Monkey. (And clever, clever Miss Madeline, of course!)

Happy Halloween!

A first for everything.....

.........first time in ice-skates...........

..........first steps........





......first foray onto the ice......

......first taste of speed.......

........and a first ice skating lesson complete......still smiling! Well done Meg!

Finn's turn!

 

Why do you only make things for Meg, Mummy?
Well, up until now this has been the case but, to be fair, my dressmaking has only been going on for so long. I rustled up a couple of frocks for Meg for our hectic summer socializing, but a boy's shirt felt a little out of my league. But then I had a good idea.

I acquired, a little while ago, a bolt (yes, a whole bolt) of the most beautiful wind proof fleece you've ever seen. It looks warm and cozy and is just waiting for you to snuggle up under it. But blankets I thought, are easy, let's make things a little tricky. I know, I'll make it into a fleece jacket - for Finn! Yeah! I bought a pattern, laid out the pieces.........and spotted the problem. The fleece is, by its very nature, thick. And if you have to join two pieces together, it's twice as thick. And this pattern has pockets! I wasn't sure if me and my little machine were up to the task, but with a few minor detours from the instructions and a false start with a zip, I did it!

And then I did it again! I did mention that I have industrial quantities of this fabric?  Well, I thought that if my little boy likes his so much then another little boy that we know might like one too.
I'm giving it to him tomorrow as a surprise. I'll let you know what he says.

Oh my!

A little while ago, a friend of mine gave me a gift. A totally unexpected gift, which is the very best kind, and a thoughtful one to boot. A bottle of wine, yes, but hang on, before you yawn, take a look at the label. Then think about me. Then read the words on the back.

Oh my, indeed.

A medal, a glass and a bottle of bubbly

It was very nearly freezing on the morning of September 30th, and at 4.30am it was foggy as well. A bunch of us had decided back in February that we needed to "run long" again and a half marathon had been suggested. "The Wineglass Marathon now has a half and it's not 'til September........" We all agreed to start training straight away and to tip out in force to run the suggested race. So, as I set off BY MYSELF that morning, I felt very proud - cold and tired but proud.

Corning, NY is about 1 1/2 hours from Skaneateles and a beautiful drive (as I discovered on the way home.) I was nervous about finding the way by myself as I'm not known for my calm, sunny disposition before a race and combined with the enormous cup of coffee I took to keep me company on the drive, my demeanor looked set for implosion before the starter's pistol fired. As it turned out I needn't have worried - the organization was spectacular and the plan B for those of us arriving on race day morning worked like a charm, and there was no starter's pistol.

So, I parked the car, hopped on a bus down to the start, picked up my race number and chip and went to hang out in the local college gym to keep warm before kick-off. Everyone who was anyone was doing the same, eating pre-race snacks and trying to look like they know how to stretch properly.  The main topic of discussion was: short sleeves or long sleeves? It had the potential to reach 60 degrees during the race, which can be warm over 13.1 miles, but if it didn't, a good couple of hours is a long time to be chilly. Hmmmm, what to do? I had decided to go down the "op-shop" route i.e. buy a long sleeved top at the Salvos, wear it til too hot then discard by the roadside, where some kind soul would pick it up and take it back to said Salvos or similar. That way no-one loses, right? And I wouldn't have to run with anything tied around my waist which can be intensely irritating. A no-brainier for me then.

Eventually, I decided to brave the porta-potties, and have one last pee before heading down to the start. I was very glad not to have left it any longer as the queues were unbelievable, nerves getting the better of everybody it would seem. I dropped my bag off at the truck, praying that we would be reunited hassle-free and took my place behind the 2 hour pacer's flag. I had decided to start here and see how it went, leaving myself the option to fall back into the 2 hour 10 group if necessary. My training had not gone entirely to plan in the closing few weeks and I was worried about keeping up. The gun didn't go off and the pack surged forward, indicating that the race had started. The first mile was the usual kerfuffle of falling over the feet of the person in front of you and apologizing for elbowing ribs, but as the pack spread out I realized I was leaving the flag behind.

Now, usually this is where I tell myself to slow down as there's no way I can sustain a pace like that for the whole race etc, but this time I decided to stick with it and see what happened. I didn't check my watch for time, only pace when I thought I had slowed down, and I kept right on running. I hit a bit of a blip at 7 miles when I had done some crap maths and decided I only had 5 miles left to run, then heard one of the water volunteers shout, "Good work, only 6 miles left." Major downer. I allowed myself a 30 second walk at mile 10 to sort myself out and to gather my mental energies, then battled on through the last 3.1. 

I knew I could run sub 2 hours if I kept going but, oh boy, it's certainly easier to talk about it. I had paired up with a lady who was maintaining a similar pace to me and decided to stalk her for the rest of the race. It worked and we crossed the line in 1 hour 55 minutes and a debate-able number of seconds. It depends which site you read but I think the official number was 20. 1 hour (that's the important bit) 55 minutes and 20 seconds. A fine morning's work.

I was so ridiculously delighted with my time that I almost didn't mind not having anyone there to marvel at my brilliance! But being on my own meant that I was able to pick up the rest of my goodies, indulge in a PT stretch session, then head straight back to the car for the drive home, with the music on as loud as I wanted. Awesome.
And having sworn years ago that I don't have another marathon in me, after last Saturday, there is a little part of me that is tempted - after all, if I can run that far couldn't I run just a bit further next time.........

Bats and Turtles

"Mummy, are some people Bats?"
"How do you mean?"
"Well, do some people sleep all day?"
"Some people who work night shifts do."
"So they work all night and go to bed during the day?"
"Yes, that's right. It depends what kind of job you have."
"OK. So they're like Turtles."
"Turtles?"
"Yes, Turtles are awake all night."
"I thought that was Bats."
"Yes, Bats and Turtles."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes we learnt about it at school. Bats and Turtles - they sleep during the day and are awake at night."
"Hmmmm. I don't remember learning that Turtles are..........oh, I see. Did you learn about some animals being NOCTURNAL?!"

God love him!