The Best Pet

Childhood, Parenting, Random poetry 3 Comments »

Hey ūüôā

I am going out tonight so, of course, my delightful offspring have decided to enlighten me as to why I shouldn’t leave them before bedtime…! I even got my hair cut and coloured earlier (!), so Eldest rudely told me before I left (in a taxi, as our car had already chosen to have a flat battery this morning) that I wouldn’t be part of the family any more if I got it shaved too short!!Randomlists screen shot for 14th October 2017

RandomLists‚Äô words also seemed to add to the feeling that there was something inherently wrong with me going out with my friends on a Saturday night, while the kids are still young (because a list of words is not a subjective tool, or anything¬†ūüėȬ† ).

I will still venture forth into this night, however.  There is chat to be had and dancing to do!

I’ll be allowed home again, too, cos apparently having blonde/grey and purple hair is cool enough to dodge Eldest’s threat.  Phew.

 

Milky  Tender  Tearful  Pet  Scared  Murder  Dime  Measly  Rough

 

Our milky cuddles,

Tender touch at the beginning of life;

Each of us fearful

That the other may leave.

 

Little fingers and toes curling,

Wee squashed face

Peeking over my nightgown

Like a handbag pet.

 Written page for 14th October 2017

Partly scared,

Immensely proud:

I turn from the world

To the comfort of connection.

(The only murder entertained

Is that of endless cups of tea)

 

My whole life turned on a dime:

A sudden meaning,

Pieces slipping easily together

In the depths of newborn eyes.

Former aspirations

Appearing measly scraps

Against this gifted life.

 

It was a rough few months,

But all is forgiven

In the cocoon of beautiful praise.

 

 

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Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

The Paradox in Puddle City

Childhood, Parenting, Random poetry 3 Comments »

Hiya!

 

It was Eldest‚Äôs turn to hit the ‚Äėhalf birthday‚Äô mark today!¬† I am so glad to be able to report that he has been in good health for the last six months, after him having to miss his seventh birthday for that yucky bug ūüôā

As usual, it has been a fast first term back at school, and we are now embarking on our October holiday week.  Today has been relatively calm, with the kids enjoying the fact that they get to lounge about the house and play with super heroes and cars whenever they like.  No set homework for Eldest to think about for at least two weekends!!  It’s fab!

Eldest has been bringing home a few Horrid Henry books to read to us, and he and his brother have been giggling over them.¬† The boys also loved revisiting T.S. Eliot‚Äôs cat poems for National Poetry Day on the 28th.¬† Eldest could remember that Growltiger had an ear missing, from parent readings over supper when Youngest was still in his high chair ūüėȬ† it‚Äôs lovely to think that the boys can recall snippets of what we spent time doing with them!

Since primary three started, Eldest has been doing some Yoga in his gym lessons with the help of the lady from¬† Cosmic Kids.¬† He was very eager to share the experience with his brother, so requested that I put the YouTube channel on the tablet, and the alphabet mats out¬†in the playroom. I must say that is it quite surreal to watch our lively boys sitting cross-legged on the floor, their hands together, repeating ‚Äúnaaa-maaast-eeeeh‚ÄĚ!¬† Seven and four year olds are ridiculously flexible, and they really enjoy the stories that go with each episode.¬† Hubby and I have snapped a crazy amount of photos ūüėČ

Eldest has been enjoying the football he gets in his P.E lessons, too, and also requests to be allowed to go and climb a tree with his friends, at the back of his school playground, when I come to pick him up.  I don’t always let him (it’s a long walk home, after all!) but when I do, he comes down the hill again full of all the moments he narrowly cheated death by twisting a certain way in the nick of time…with the dirt splatters to prove it.

I have felt a lot calmer, over the years, when he’s tested his balancing skills on the Trim Trail instead! (You can see the small wooded part of the playground behind Eldest, in of some of the photos).

 

Eldest loves writing and drawing, and his desk is often a mass of stray papers (interspersed with plastic knights, and maybe the large castle he has probably played with every day he’s been at home, for several years now).  Since he was first able to communicate with me, he has spun the stories behind his creations.  I get a real kick out of him now being able to write down all the scenarios that are in his head. 

As I think I have said before, it fascinates him that Enid Blyton was able to be so prolific, and he keeps referring back to that and wondering how many books he could manage if he started when he was, say, ten ūüėČ in his head, Enid‚Äôs name is ‚ÄėIan‚Äô, however.¬† I do correct him, but I think he has¬†invented an image¬†he can relate to easily.¬† I am trying not to be too feminist about it‚Ķ

*grumbles to self*

In class this year, Eldest and his peers have been thinking about village life.¬† They have had to draw maps and characters from ‚ÄúThistle Mountain‚ÄĚ as part of their homework.¬† Eldest‚Äôs character is the janitor of the high school.¬† I love this representation of him:

‚ÄúThis is the janitor‚Ķhe is angry because people were throwing mud at his face ‚Äď that‚Äôs why it is so red!‚ÄĚ

 

I am always having to think hard with these sparky fellows under my care.  Eldest is perpetually  fascinated by how things work, and why people are motivated to do the things they do.  Our walks to and from our local school (that incorporates the nursery) have been peppered with interesting theories, misunderstandings, musings and plots for over four years now.  Eldest never got on with a buggy board, so has hoofed up and down those pavements countless times; scanned the changing skies with me; marked each turn of season; thought about the placement of every sign/railing/wall/tree/lamppost/drain cover etc…and marvelled at shadows whenever the sun appears.

It doesn‚Äôt matter how I look at it, I was sent the best little vehicles for creativity I could ever have asked for.¬† I wish I could video every revelation they stumble upon, every thought they tease out so that I could learn from them again and again ‚Äď and maybe write all the works that flood into my brain…which I invariably forget by the time I get home ūüėČ

I chuckled when I saw what words came up today: they are very apt for a poem about our irrepressible seven year old scamp!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fox  Player  Inside  Mud  Paradox  Pluck  City  Ladder  Drama

 

I’ve seen him run

When the fox appears,

But then seem to root

For his dastardly schemes;

Before cheering as the good guys win the day.

He is a dedicated player

Of games I can’t fathom

Where skill and/or speed

Are hard earned ‚Äď

Persistence a huge feature

Of his ‚Äėinside‚Äô pursuits.

 

But this child is also happy

In a bath of mud:

Many’s the time

Our beautiful paradox

Has had me pluck

His soaking self from puddle city!

 

He is a prickly questioner:

Ripping my metaphorical tights

And using the ladder

To climb on my last nerve.

 

He ramps up my drama,

But is also the planner

Of exciting things to do.

A magical mystery tour

With our Eldest at the helm

Will never end in boredom.

 

(And his sense of direction

Is always much keener than mine)

 

There is a video of a three year old Eldest in the puddles here.¬† For some reason it refused to embed in this post, but it plays on (my public) Facebook.¬† Enjoy!¬† ūüėČ

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Daredevil

Childhood, Random poetry No Comments »

Hi ūüôā

I like what Textfixer gave me, and the character I then ‚Äėgenerated‚Äô ūüôā

 

 

Thick  Crisp  Daredevil  Bit  Alphabetical  Daughter  Rich  Fool  Blur

 

It was a thick lip

(And some crisp snow

Wrapped in an errant freezer bag)

For her daredevil act.

 

She didn’t mind a bit,

Regaling anyone who’d listen

With her adventurous tale.

 

Later, her spaghetti laid out

In order (as alphabetical

As could be managed)

My daughter said again

How she would make me rich

With her ‚Äúfool‚Äôs exploits‚ÄĚ.

 

She would get so good

At stunt-skating

She’d be a professional blur

Across any ice she chose;

Sponsors clamouring in her wake,

Book deals falling in her lap.

 

I loved the way her eyes shone

At the thought.

 

I got the idea for the skating boot drawing from this video, and I just made up the little skater (can you tell?!)

 

 

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Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

The Daily Grind

Parenting, Random poetry, Relationships No Comments »

Hello!

It was Textfixer in control today:

 

 

Teeth  Powder  Massive  Ruby  Noble  Application  Bent  Grind  Minipill

 

She could swear there were little teeth

Poking through those cute gums already,

As the powder cloud cleared

And he smiled –

That massive gape

He always did.

Those impossibly ruby lips

And noble brow ‚Äď

Oh!  He was just

So endearingly beautiful!

 

(Some people said she should

Reign in her application of that word

For a boy;

But beauty was what she saw

So what she would express)

 

As she bent to cuddle bubs again,

She heard the grind

Of her husband’s well-established enamel

Behind her.

 

Whereas he could not forgive

Their ‚Äėpenance‚Äô for a failed minipill ‚Äď

She was just delighted

With this boy she could watch grow.

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

My Preschooler Peer

Childhood, Parenting, Random poetry 2 Comments »

Hiya ūüôā

Youngest turned a whole four and a half years old today! 

He has now become a ‚Äėbig four‚Äô and we are upping the ante on talk about things like¬†finally ditching the pull-up nappy pants‚Ķ

He has been doing exceptionally well with walking to and from nursery this last month or so; and sometimes he can manage the collection of his big brother without the use of the pushchair, too (which can mean walking over 5 miles in a day, excluding all his running about at nursery…)

He loves walking home with me for lunch down a certain path that has no fewer than 42 steps to count and navigate, and where he is quite sure we will encounter a lion one day.

We‚Äôve already found a giant ‚Äėporcupine‚Äô so it is only a matter of time‚Ķ

“How did that spikey cweacha get there?!”

Remember I showed you in¬†this post that he went through an extended phase of drawing himself (and occasionally Eldest) inside my tum?¬† Well, the last few days have seen¬†Youngest drawing me a picture every night that is a bit more diverse, and always with his signature kind reason for drawing it.¬† [He has been swapping his nursery drawings with his friend, you see, but he didn‚Äôt want me missing out on original works from my¬†boy as a result ūüėČ ]

“This is you, mummy, watching someone’s garden. I dwawed it because you work hard for us all the time” I like that he’s given me cool hair ūüėČ

I love spending time with Youngest, listening to his thoughts on a range of subjects, and how he processes any information he gains throughout the day.  He makes me think a lot!

I am convinced my boys were sent for a reason: they can slice through all the bull in my brain and make the¬†important stuff¬†overwhelmingly obvious at times.¬† I love that ūüôā

 

Buzzard  Some  Teammate  Needy  Omniscient  Peer  Savour  Amazing  Stow

 

He watched the Buzzard soar

And, like some wise philosopher,

He shed momentarily

The mantle of my little teammate.

I can place him, through his needy phases:

A pretty normal pre-schooler

Struggling with the usual stuff

(Like tricky buttons)

 

But once that look comes down

He becomes omniscient ‚Äď

Seems to peer into the universe

Plucking life lessons to savour.

 

I always find it amazing

That such a little frame

Can stow away more knowledge

Than this one (aged forty years)

 

For those who like reading such things, the RSPB site gives a quick overview of the Buzzard; and I read about legends relating to Buzzards (and other birds) here and here.

Youngest can still sleep in the craziest places, for all his wordly wisdom.  Here he is, sound-o in our porch yesterday:

 

I love the way he propped himself up ūüėČ

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Pies For Lil Guys

Childhood, Random poetry No Comments »

Hello!

Please excuse the grainy screenshot and notebook page today! Creativity on the hoof is sometimes like that ūüėČ

I was in a doctor’s waiting room earlier, with too much time on my hands, so I thought I would generate a RandomLists set of 9 words and get creative!¬†

When I saw the selection, my mind immediately went back to illustrations in Enid Blyton books, and I also thought about the many occasions Hubby and I ate apple pie together in our child-free days, snuggled up on our (sadly demised now) Futon in front of the TV. 

Good times ūüôā

 

 

 

Pies  Gleaming  Children  Addicted  Rich  Gate  Stone  Stream  Romantic

 

We could see the pies:

Like treasure, gleaming.

 

Us children, addicted to sweetness,

Would feel so rich

If we could just reach in

And grab them through the gate…

 

Cooling, cooling ‚Äď

We knew they were best warm,

Best fresh off the stone windowsill;

A stream of steam

Misting as we ate ‚Äď

Us blowing on it frantically

Eager for that first bite!

 

Pies would always surpass

Our most romantic expectations

When Granny made them!

 

 

I drew the pie for my page today with the help of this video ūüôā

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Phoebe

Childhood, Parenting, Random poetry No Comments »

Hello!

A roll of the Jimpix generator broke my wee run of unhappy poetry, and gave me a young character I‚Äôd like to meet in real life ūüôā

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Phoebe  Coronet  Manners  Haxwell  Gillcambon  Fish  Thompson  Tawny  Stragglers

 

Phoebe thinks of herself

As worthy of a coronet.

She’s all about manners

And even expects Haxwell

To give her a polite paw.

 

We rambled through Gillcambon Beck

Looking for fish

In our Thompson way;

Hooking our tawny hair

Behind Thompson ears.

 

(Phoebe dislikes being tickled,

So has a surfeit of clips

In her neat little pockets:

Spends a silly amount of time

Smoothing stragglers and tangles)

 

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Not Functional

Childhood, Random poetry 2 Comments »

Hello!

 

It would appear that my speaker from yesterday still wants to unburden his or her soul to us. 

I also had The P!nk song Family Portrait start up in my head when I read ‚Äėphotograph‚Äô followed by ‚Äėdiplomat‚Äô.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Willpower  Point  Functional  Photograph  Block  Muscle  Cream  Diplomat  Embarrassment

 

It took great willpower

Not to point out

That, although we looked

A functional unit

In our forced-smile photograph,

We were each an island ‚Äď

A lonely block of land

Battered by the seas of change.

 

And never sheltered

By our father’s arms:

He used his muscle to intimidate,

Not protect.

 

He told us we could never rise

To be the cream of any industry,

Or excel at anything we did.

He let us know

Where we belonged ‚Äď

That ‚Äėfolks like us‚Äô

Were born to fail.

 

And our mother,

Ever the scurrying diplomat,

Escorted us out of rooms;

Proffering ice packs

(And make-up)

To eschew embarrassment.

 

I am so thankful that this is not my truth.  My heart aches for those who have this in their lives and/or history.

 

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Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

A Ray Of Danger

Childhood, Random poetry, Relationships No Comments »

Hi ūüôā

Some straightforward offerings from Textfixer today.  The poem was kinda destined to be dark after reading the last two words, however…

 

Patient  Danger  Plantation  Rage  Divine  Ray  Amuse  Bloodsucker  Hunchback

 

He was never patient.

I always felt in danger,

Like his slave:

Forced to bend,

The world his vast plantation,

His rage knowing no bounds.

 

He had divine right over me –

His x-ray vision

Penetrating my very thoughts.

The way his hand-marks

Rose upon my face

Seemed only to amuse him.

 

This monster hid in plain sight,

Squatting over our lives,

And no one tried to vanquish him.

 

Sometimes evil is no Hollywood bloodsucker

And has no hunchback henchman:

Sometimes it just nods to you

At your little village shop…

 

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

The Greenhouse Effect

Childhood, Parenting, Random poetry No Comments »

Howdy!

I went onto the internet as usual to generate my Jimpix words, and recoiled in horror: there was an error message informing me that the page may have been moved…or deleted!

The numerous times I had groaned and grumbled about the words it had given me, glared anxiously at the page and fumbled for connecting dots, while wondering why I do this to myself…it all flashed before my mournful inner eye…Jimpix was to be no more??!  Had I cursed it too much?  Did the generator not know I loved it the best (don’t tell Textfixer, Randomlists and RandomWordGenerator I said that though.  I don’t want all my buds leaving me!)??

I wrote a little wail to Jimpix on the contact page, then tapped around the site in desperation, hoping one of the other generators there might help me out a bit.¬† Thankfully one did, so I still got a selection to keep me on my toes a bit, but oooh.¬† I am very sad that the era of my proper Jimpix wranglings may be over!! ūüôĀ

 

I‚Äôve read that Virgos are supposed to like conventional things, knew roughly who Galileo was (and tried not to sing that excerpt from Queen‚Äôs Bohemian Rhapsody‚Ķ) but I hadn‚Äôt to my knowledge heard of a Ptarmigan before.¬† When I found out that it was a bird that could be found in mountainous regions, I smiled – because I then knew just how to tie it in with ‚Äėsledge‚Äô‚Ķ

 

 

 

Striped   Sledge   Virgo   Greenhouse   Abrasive   Galilean  Ptarmigan  Matter   Aspiring

 

Our striped sledge

Hurtled from the shed,

Propelled by wild abandon;

Sent to rock my Virgo soul.

The crazed descent

Was thwarted by our greenhouse,

Poor little cheeks marred

By our abrasive planter, there.

 

With his Galilean interests sated,

Jordan straightened and declared

The snow ‚Äúmuch faster than last year‚Äôs‚ÄĚ;

While (seeming part-Ptarmigan)

Waddling towards me.

 

Poor little Marcus

Was still nursing his face,

‚ÄúA plaster!!‚ÄĚ the only matter

He was aspiring to address.

 

I didn‚Äôt consciously link another meaning of ‚ÄėGalilean‚Äô to calling the older boy Jordan when writing the poem but, upon typing it out, I suddenly realised the connection!! ūüėÄ

 

**UPDATE!!**

I was emailed back!¬† The Jimpix website owner apologised for deleting his generator, and told me he had reinstated it!¬† I am so happy (while also feeling a leeeetle bit like a bully…) go and check out his ecards and generators, there are poetry¬†cards to choose from as well as funny ones. He is obviously one of the good guys and deserves your custom ūüėČ

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!