Bitch on the Blog

October 31, 2016

Compliments

Filed under: Amusement,Children,Fairy Tales,hope,Style — bitchontheblog @ 16:30
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Sweethearts, the time has come to come clean. I am not who and what you think I am.

What I am is a Witch. Before you mutter to yourself “I knew it” – you are not alone. About two hours ago I passed two little boys (say about four years old), in a nearby park,  when one of them asked me, in that most trusting way only children are capable of: “Are you a witch?” As career options go I might consider it. Mind you. I’ll need to go crowd funding first to source that most indispensible of all accessories. Namely, a broom.

Being caught on the hob – or is it hop, I smiled: “No, I am not”. On a nano second’s reflection, and not being the kind to dash other people’s hope (within reason). “Do I look like one?” Apparently, I do. “Witch, Witch, Witch”, they chanted.

By the time I came back from town, having forgotten all about my elevated status, they caught up with me again. “Look, the witch is back”. It’s nice to be delighted in. Unless you are the devil.

U

August 15, 2016

Divisions

Filed under: Children,Communication,Family — bitchontheblog @ 17:10
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It’s been long in the making. Now it has dawned on me.

Parents of more than one child please do take note: Just because one or two of your children give you grief, demand your constant attention, doesn’t mean that the rest of your brood is immune to life’s vicissitudes.

U

July 16, 2016

No goal

Filed under: Children,Future,Health — bitchontheblog @ 17:48
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Sweethearts, if anything in both the blogging world and comment sections on newspapers has taught me: DON’T. Say a word. So I won’t. It’s tough. Good exercise in self restraint.

Which is why I am throwing myself at your shoulders rather than facing prospect of being butchered in the wake of an article on miscarriage. The article itself is self indulgent to the point of nausea. The comments? My god. Pass me a bucket.

Bull. Bull and bull. Kylie, I expect you to weigh in here heavily.

Maybe I was brought up at a time when a bull was a bull and a spade was a spade. Shit happened. It was normal. I watched my mother, aunts, neighbours, you know … females. They miscarried. And then they carried on with life.

U

 

June 8, 2016

Limitations

Filed under: Amusement,Children — bitchontheblog @ 15:28
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Last night Hillary Clinton said that Trump is “temperamentally unfit to be president”.

Leaving aside that I agree with her it set me thinking on what any of us are or not temperamentally suited to. My mother maintains to this day that I’d make a marvellous teacher. “You have the patience I don’t”, she used to say when it came to, say, my siblings. It’s true. I have the patience of a saint twinned. Give me a needle and a thread and I will do that camel thing the Bible mentions.

However, there is patience and there is patience. Some years ago, in one of my many madder moments, I thought it might be financially prudent to retrain as a plumber (their hourly charges eyewatering – daylight robbery; supply and demand and all that). So – as one does – I dipped my toe into a test drive. Dear dog in heaven. Patience doesn’t come into those diagrams. Spatial thinking does. And whilst I am a mean parker of cars in unlikely spaces I just couldn’t fathom my future life going round the bend. So that was that. I still come cheap.

Sweethearts, do tell me, what are you “temperamentally unfit” to do?

U

May 11, 2016

Cost benefit analysis

Filed under: Amusement,Children,death,Human condition,The Reaper — bitchontheblog @ 09:04
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In response to the question of someone contemplating motherhood one commentator left the following:

“Don’t bother, it’s a waste of time. All that effort and then one day they will just die anyway. Pointless.”

Seriously, not even Sartre can beat this for a laugh.

Take it from this mother: The joy outweighs the certainty.

U

July 15, 2014

Round and round the garden

Filed under: Amusement,Children — bitchontheblog @ 13:03
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No idea why this just popped into my head:

Playing hide and seek with my siblings. It’s one of the more annoying bits of being older by a long shot. You are clever. You could hide anywhere. No one would find you. Bliss. However, you don’t want to disappoint the little blighters. So you make it easy for them. Not too easy. Give them the joy of the chase. But easy nevertheless.

And then my youngest sister broke my heart. Can’t remember how old she was. Maybe two or three. It was her turn to hide. Don’t ask. To this day I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Or both. I was counting, very very very slowly to give her time, down to ten. Then the three of us turned round … She stood in the middle of the lawn in full view, her eyes closed and had put – for good measure – her tiny hands over her eyes.  Invisible to herself. We did a very good job pretending that it was truly hard to find her. Till we “found” her. Before she ran out of patience with us.

I am sure there is a lesson in there somewhere. If so I don’t know what it is.

U

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