Welcome, friends, to the twelve dates of Christmas. Is this not an exceedingly nifty festive idea? (Thank you to Rockstar Diaries, from whence I thieved it.) And especially needed this year, as well: Henry commandeers so much of our attention - and rightly so, because he is delightful - that I find myself entering December and missing my other … Continue reading On the First Date of Christmas…
...I can't look at it without remembering the special edition of Medical Noticeboard Hangman we played while waiting for my last check-up. Sample guess words: postnatal . meningitis . depression . emergency . confidential . chlamydia Thankfully my name was called before either of us used the contraception clinic poster as inspiration. It was next on my list.
Today Tim's university told him he was first class, and let him wear a fancy robe at the same time. I thought that was pretty nice of them. I got to pull the pregnancy card twice on crowded buses and once when wangling a seat near the front of the hall. The elderly graduation marshal … Continue reading Afternoons: Always Better With Robes
Well, lookee what today brought: TWO gainfully employed Jeffcoats in the same house! I know: how can so much professionalism be contained in this tiny space? Other pertinent questions include 'how come his office gets a canteen and mine doesn't?' and 'is it really beyond the capabilities of high-end businesses to take a decent badge photo?' This … Continue reading On the Ladder
Did I mention I love this guy? This month he is in the middle of his final exams. Oh, I remember my finals with stingy clarity. The midnight hallucinations. The wearing of the same mouldy jumper for many days. The endless, plodding horror of exchanging one stack of notes for another, over and over again. … Continue reading How does he DO that?
Me: You know that bruise on my eye? Tim: Yep? Me: It's not a bruise. I think I'm getting a stye. Tim: Urgh! Me: I've never had one before. Have you? Tim: No, I just know they're really huge and ugly and painful and don't go away for weeks and weeks. Me: Oh. Do you … Continue reading Welcome to Cold Comfort Farm
A thought on marriage: this cleave-to-your-wife business is all very well, but trying to organise birthday surprises when you do everything together is a minefield. The present-buying, for starters. We have a joint bank account, which means any money I spend on presents will be recorded right next to our Tesco bills and council tax. … Continue reading Covert Operations
Some interesting news: this week I lost my house husband. Boo. On Monday Timothy started his new industrial placement year at IBM, with two days of training in lovely Portsmouth. This is the beginning of a strange new phase in our lives: though we gain a second wage, I lose my back-patting status as Sole … Continue reading The Family That Sprays Together, Stays Together (And Smells of Flash Bathroom, Which is an Added Bonus)
Last week I discovered how dreadful it feels to fall off the wagon. This month we are micro-budgeting. Being married for a year brings congratulations and anniversary cards and a great deal of smugness, but also annual bills: several insurance renewals later, our bank account is whimpering in panic. After a fairly depressing session with … Continue reading Money Matters…More Than Usual
Tim's continuing recovery from the horrid mystery illness I have dubbed 'Half Day Disease' necessitated yesterday evening a Lord of the Rings pajama party. Under the circumstances this involved neither partying nor matching Lord of the Rings pajamas (I wish), but rather a kind of film-related slump with copious amounts of magic vitamin juice. It's … Continue reading Real Men Do Their Crying On The Inside