Doctor Who did What?????

What a rubbish way to end a Wednesday. It was bad enough watching the National TV awards. Then, redemption, the ray of light of light-entertainment - David Tennant is up for an award, here he is, standing outside the theatre where he is playing Hamlet. Hang on, my panic gland goes into overdrive - he has an announcement to make....NO!!!!

Oh boy, I hate to admit it but I nearly cried. It won't be the same, no Julie, no Russell, no David. Little Fink summed it up perfectly, "I don't know if I want to watch it with out him in it?"

Anyway, I've been through the whole range of emotions. betrayal, anger, sorrow, denial, disbelief, then I just felt a bit sick and fed up about it. This morning I had an epiphany. I had a dream that David Tennant was filming Doctor Who and I was nearby. I wanted to see him and tell him I thought he shouldn't step down. I waited ages and ages for him to finish filming and in the end I went back to my apartment that overlooked the studio. As i looked down through the window, about 10-12 floors up, his car arrived and he left the studio, he got into the car, looked up and right at me and smiled. I knew then (in real life) I had forgiven him. Then the dream got all weird, as they do, with him sitting in the car upside down as a child might watch the TV, then I was outside his tatty rented home with allocated parking, he lived at number 39. OK I'll stop there.

The upshot is. I don't think Doctor Who will ever be as good as it has been. I think it stood a chance with a new writer (Steven Moffat) if David Tennant were to stay for a series, but I think, new showrunner, new lead and new producer might be too much for the series (and I bet that is why David has jumped ship - he doesn't think the show will be better or the same as it was).

I invented 'Uniform Rage' this week

How cool is that picture?

This week was the worst week in the calendar. Time to get the school uniform. Occasionally in busy supermarkets I freak out a little and have to leave. Historically this trip is the worst. Last year I left all the clothes at the checkout, ran out of the shop (with Little Fink) and had to phone Mr Fink to calm me down!

Little Fink and I girded our loins and set out to our local hypermarket with M&S attached and headed for the uniform aisle. I had my list, Little Fink was in a good mood, we picked out all the stuff she needed, tried it on, picked the correct sizes, tried that all on again. After about 40 minutes we had everything we needed and got to the checkout. I'm starting to feel a little hemmed in by this time, losing my patience too. Little Fink was doing the "Isle of Sheppey - I need the toilet dance" but I couldn't take her to the loo as it was upstairs. I was second in the queue with 2 assistants serving, the outlook was bright.

Then, the female customer at the till said, "Do you have any of those nice red t-shirts, they wash so well." The assistant abandoned her post and went off with the customer to find the t-shirts.

That did me.

In the middle of M&S, I threw my head back, pointed my chin to the ceiling and groaned, "OH MY GOD!" I looked round at the other people in the queue who were looking at me as if I had grown 2 heads or something and I said, "Don't look at me like that, It's what you are all thinking too." The assistant arrived back, the queue moved along and all was calm.

I thought i was quite good not to go on the rampage with a coat hangar or two!

A Bit of a Do.

This weekend, Mr Fink, Little Fink and I travelled to Hastings for a gathering of the clans. Mr Fink's brother was getting married. This brought about another addition to the number of women in the country with the same name as me. There are now 5 Mrs *****'s! 3 of whom stayed in the same Travelodge for the wedding, hence the following confusing phone call from GWTBO - father of the groom. As we were travelling past Battle en route to Hastings, Mr Fink's phone rang, it was Grandad With The Beard On,

"Where are you staying?"

Me (as Mr Fink was driving)"Travelodge, Hastings."

"What name have you booked the room under?"

Me.............................."?", "I'll give you three guesses, and the first two don't count!"

Anyway, it turns out he was only aware of 3 rooms booked under the family name, his room, Woogie & Nancypants' room and Doner (Woogie's brother - he has been given the 'nom de guerre' Doner as they both look rough on a Sunday morning) &AB's room.

"I booked the family room for us." I said.

"Oh, I'm standing in the family room, drinking the coffee!"

Anyway, the rooms were sorted, I asked for some bed linen for Little Fink and a duvet cover and pillow cases for our bed, as they only had white cotton 'protector's on, when the lady arrived she only had linen for Little Fink.

"I was hoping for a duvet cover and pillowcases for the bed."

"You've already got them, we only have the cheap ones here!" Ho hum.

We went off to the wedding, the groom was nervous and the bride stunning. I was fine until the Bride started to say her vows, her voice wobbled with emotion and that was it, all the women in the room were toast! The reception was lovely with children enjoying themselves, lovely food and good company.

I jitterbugged the night away with my father-in-law, GWTBO and a good night was had by all.

The next day we had breakfast and arranged to take the Silver Surfer (Mr Fink's step dad) and Astral (Mr Fink's mum) home with us, so we quickly had a walk along the sea front at Hastings before setting off. We decided to stop off for lunch and went to the Airfield Pub in Hatfield.

The meal was well received and the bill duly arrived. Now I don't know about you gentle reader, but us Finks are plagued (in a good way) with friends who won't take no for an answer! Mr Fink was going to pay for this meal as a parting gift to Astral and SS before they returned to Spain.

SS offered to pay but Mr Fink said,

"It's ok, I'll pay, it's not very expensive." he might as well have said...

"Next time we go out you can pay and we'll go somewhere NICE!" good ole Mr Fink always got at least one of his feet in his mouth!

A wonderful weekend, spent with wonderful family and friends. The stuff of life. Bring it on.

For he's a jolly good fellow...

After a couple of months of upheaval, dirt, dust, plaster and sawdust. Mr Fink has finished the major works to the house. We have ditched (for ditched read 'sold on EBay') the blond Ikea look and gone for grown up Yew furniture - amazingly it is cheaper to buy solid yew furniture second hand than to buy 'cheap new stuff from Argos! Anywho, The furniture is in, the skirting is on and the new carpet is down. It looks amazing - thank you Mr Fink for all your hard work.

My question is this - what is the required 'cooling-off' period for a new carpet? What is the maximum length of time a mum can claim, "No you can't, I've got a new carpet and I don't want it getting dirty/stained/trodden on." I would estimate about 2 or 3 years but Mr and Little Fink are looking more at a week.

For instance, Little Fink currently has a friend round for tea (to join us in eating tea, you understand, we are not eating the friend!) and they have been playing at the table, I went in to see what they were doing and it was...

STICKING, GLUEING and... G L I T T E R...

the carpet has only been down 72 hours!

I didn't go mad but went and had a little cry under the stairs instead. (The children tell me their teacher (approx 14 years of age by the look of her) sometimes goes into her stationery cupboard for a cry if she has an argument with her boyfriend. ??????? I kid you not. What is the world coming to?

LIVE 07, Festival of Scouting

On Saturday I took Little Fink, Master and Miss Glum and J to the Dome for the Festival of Scouting, the culmination of the Centenary of Scouting. It was a 3 hour exhibition of the innovation and myriad skills of the young people that make up the Scouting community.

On a lighter note - it was 15,000 people involved in Scouting, enjoying a whole evening's entertainment. Brilliant.

The children were well behaved (and a joy to be with) and just as well, I was terrified of loosing them. As we approached the Dome on foot and stood marvelling at the Dome and it's surrounding sculptures, Little Fink piped up, "We've lost J, he's gone"

Argh, we hadn't even gone inside yet. I looked round in the low key panic mode us mum's go into. After 30 agonising seconds Little Fink said, "Ha ha got you, he's here really". he had been hiding behind me the whole time.

I calmly (I thought - considering) asked them to look at my face and tell me if I looked like I thought it was a good joke. We all agreed not to play that little joke again!

The place was packed solid, we moved along in a hand holding chain and checked out the ground floor, after a while we needed to find a toilet before the show.

There is only one set of toilets on the main ground floor of the Dome! The queue was back out onto the main corridor. Again the feelings of minor panic were setting in. The kids have to sit for 3 hours, they need to go to the loo before we go in. The worst case scenario was we would have to take them outside and go al fresco but the fight to get through the crowds made this idea seems almost impossible too. Mrs Coulthard said, "I just heard someone say there are toilets in the cinema". We rounded up the troops (3 women and 6 children) and legged it up the stairs. We asked the man on the door, could the children go to the loo. "No, we had hundreds of people in here this morning trying to use the toilets, I'm not starting it this afternoon".

I begged and pleaded with him just to let the children through and when that didn't work I asked if the manager could come down. When he arrived I stated my case again. I couldn't see a was of getting this problem sorted out and my voice started to crack with emotion/panic.

The manager must have thought I was going to cry or something so he let us through, on the proviso that we didn't tell anyone we had been allowed through! The things we do for our children?

Rememberance Day

Not including weddings, christenings and funerals, I only go to church once a year. Today was that day. I have an over riding need to show my gratitude to those that gave their lives so that I might live mine in relative peace.

Is it just me? Ever since I had Little Fink I have become overly emotional at certain stimuli.

Rousing music (Albert Hall New Year Concert - the timpani drum started playing the theme from 2001 a Space Oddysey and I was toast - blubbing), Rugby players singing the National Anthem (the recent World Cup had me in tears every time), ordinary people talking about emotive subjects, I hear that barely audible 'wobble' in the voice and I'm history.

The thing that set me off today was, an old soldier laid a wreath on the memorial, took a step back, bowed gently, then as he straightened up, he threw his elderly shoulders back with pride, stood to attention and saluted all his comrades, known and unknown. The way he held himself infront of that memorial, the pride and strength in that simple gesture made me cry, it's making me cry just thinking of it now. Later in the service he read out the names of all the local people who died in WWI, WWII and the Falklands, this again made the tears fall.

On a happier note, earlier on in the day when Little Fink had gone to meet up with the Cubs to parade into the church, I met up with 2 of my best friends, one of which came to Scout Camp this year (where she made her name as an expert biscuit-procurer, remind me to show you the video of her Biscuit Stealing Dance sometime) She and I were sitting together in church which is a dangerous place to be because I only have to look at her and I collapse in fits of giggles. I blame my other friend for not supervising us properly. Anyway, as the vicar got to the bit about, "Blessed are the meek, blessed are the peacemakers" I started to shake with suppressed laughter and dare not look round at Mrs Biscuit for fear she would launch into a Monty Python tribute and get us both thrown out.

The other highlight was Little Fink, she recited the Lord's Prayer beautifully (she knows the 'old' version from her time in a Catholic Scout group - they don't teach it at her school - terrible) and at the end, she dutifully crossed herself in the Catholic fashion, bless her, she was the only one, we were in a C of E church!