Overheard in Barking

Two women blocking the path outside the Tesco Express. One has a toddler in a puschair.

"I said to 'er, I ain't 'aving my throat slit in front of my girl".


So, you would if your daughter weren't present?

Pink Stinks

My mum and sister were excitedly showing me a pink wooden pram advertised in a woman's magazine. "Divine," they cooed.

I raised my eyebrows, wrinkled my nose and turned my mouth up at the corners.

"You're going to have a funny kind of girl," declared the little sis.

When pregnant the only thing putting me off having a girl was indeed the colour pink. It was the visit to Mothercare that did it. (About two weeks before I was due; I believe in leaving everything to the last minute). I felt physically sick. I stood in the middle of Oxford Street on the phone to C. hysterically voicing my concerns should we have a girl; I would not be able to cope with all things pink.

With the exception of a couple of far-flung great aunts the message, shouted loud and clear at every opportunity, seems to have filtered through. No-one who has been in actual contact with me since Isabella's birth has bought us anything pink. My brother went so far as to use a lack of choice as his excuse for visiting empty-handed and a friend kindly wrapped her present in blue paper.

"Pink stinks," giggled my my mum. "I said to your father 'I bet Emma's got something to do with this'". I had to admit I didn't know what she was talking about.

A quick look on the internet had me rejoicing (and only slightly sad that I wasn't behind it): Pink officially stinks here.

Discoveries

Since I had my beautiful little red headed pumpkin I've discovered another world - from my hatred of people who park on pavements and expect me to walk in the road, the virtual inaccessibility of the London Underground system to all the new shop assistant friends we've made in (the much maligned) Barking. There are many more but Isabella is stirring so I shall leave you with this thought: she is definitely in control.

Variations on a Theme

The postman brought a bundle of cards made by some of my pupils today. They're all aged thirteen and fall into the disaffected/disruptive label dished out by schools and I until I left I taught them along the primary model - all of us in the room together with me doing my best with every subject under the sun. And a great time we had. I thought their basic literacy had improved but their spelling needs some work:

Essebella
Iserbell
Issebella
Issabell

My favourite comments are Yes, you was pregnant and you did it! You had a nice girl! and You must love her very much because you love us and we're not yours.

Autumn in Barking

One of the (very few) benefits of the garage having had your car for three weeks (yes, that does read three weeks) is walking through the church and abbey ruins to the supermarket.

Whilst this fella is a little shy about helping himself to the nuts, his mate has no such qualms.

Smelly Pear Core

I wish it did do what it said on the tin

Whether or not you've ever used Ronseal, I'm guessing most people haven't, you're probably familiar with their slogan, and like me, try to apply it to everything. Including Mothercare maternity bras like this one:

The tin declares it to be a "fashion support bra".

Please do believe me when I point out it is neither fashionable nor supportive.

I'm back...and 35 weeks pregnant

(Yes, I did scan it a little on the wonky side).

I decided I wanted to create page borders.

I've been reading Nigel Slater's latest offering Tender which is full of vegetables.

I can draw leeks (just).

I put the two together.