We never really get snow here in Northern Ireland, and around 1/2 cm is likely to bring the whole country to a skidding (literally) halt. We’ve had a bit of snow here in the past few days. Not enough for a snow man, but enough for me not to drive anywhere because the roads are too dangerous. Northern Ireland’s mighty army of approximately one gritting lorry has been constantly on the go for days, but let’s face it, he’s only one man!! He’s doing his wee best. Only kidding, but not too much- we just aren’t equipped to deal. Why would they bother spending money on more resources for snow, when we get maybe 3-5 days of snow every year?
The snow has coincided with Ricky’s school holidays and I am home with both kids for the holidays for the first time. Snow’s obviously great with small kids, but mine are still a little too small to really get much benefit from it- they just freeze too quickly no matter how much you layer them up.
Also, Ballygowan is a small village with few local resources and, despite them installing a new playground which is surprisingly brilliant, there’s only so long you can spend there, and from my point of view, it’s mind numbing. I prefer to go for a walk and do something that will stimulate me as well as them, but what you gonna do!
There’s been a lot of lounging around in jammies in our house these past few days. Ricky’s obsession with playing Lego StarWars on the Wii is getting totally out of hand. We’re going to have to introduce an egg timer of some kind, I think.
Worst of all, Ricky has now got a dodgy stomach and can not be trusted any further than 10 feet from the toilet, so our ability to leave the house is now fully compromised.
So, I guess we should just baton down the hatches and do nothing!
That said, there’s only so much children’s television I can take. One more episode of “Big Cook, Little Cook”, possibly the campest tv show ever invented, and it might just tip me over the edge of reason.
Thank goodness for adult intervention in the form of a dinner invitation to my dear friend Heather’s house tonight. Her sister Emer is in town, and ever time she’s home it is customary for us to treat her like visiting Royalty, mainly by meeting up and (me) getting paralytically drunk. I’ll take some pics, but they’ll be early in the evening before my eye make up has spread itself too far down my face and I am still capable of clicking the “take photo” button instead of the “on/off” button. Tomorrow, with luck, you may laugh at my increasingly dodgy hair do, which without the aid of hair straightners looks like some kind of Granny ‘Fro, and even with straightners, looks awful. Part of the process I guess…