'I'm always looking for the Hows and the Whys and the Whats,' said Muskrat, 'That is why I speak as I do. You've heard of Muskrat's Much-in-Little, of course?'
'No,' said the child. 'What is it?'
- The Mouse and his Child. Russell Hoban.

Go here to find out more.

Sunday, 22 June 2008

The Big Weekend

It was my daughter's school ball, plus youngest son's farewell/birthday party.  Both on Saturday night.  Whew.

My Saturday went something like this:

8.00-10.30.  Finish sewing ball gown (hem by hand, make and sew on shoestring straps)

10.50-12.00.  Clean the house, chop wood and kindling, lay fire, make all beds up for sleepover friends of son.

1.00-3.00.  Make pizzas and baked dish for party.

10.00-5.00.  Comfort daughter, get cross, calm down and cycle through this sequence three times as daughter's friends and two replacements pull out of special ride * arrangements throughout day.

3.30 - 4.30.  Bake and ice the carrot cake for the firefighters.*

4.30 - 5.00.  Curl daughter's hair with curling tongs that I have never used in my life before.

5.00 - 6.30.  Greet youngest son's guests while applying makeup to daughter's face, stopping dog barking at arriving guests, and trying to give oldest son (not seen for a month) quality conversation. 

6.30 - 6.40.  Bucketing down - rain that reduces driving speed to a crawl despite wipers on double time - drive out into country with daughter to pick up her friend.

6.40 - 6.50.  Wait for daughter's friend while she looks for ball ticket.

6.50 - 7.00.  Drive home through pouring rain for daughter to look for her ball ticket.

7.00 - 7.05.  Wait in car while daughter finds her ball ticket.

7.05 - 7.20.  Drive in more torrential rain to fire station.

7.20-7.25.  Drive around looking for fire station's new premises.  Luckily daughter's friend spots it through the rain down a side street.

7.25 - 7.35.  Give carrot cake to fire fighters, take photos of fire fighters with girls, girls in front of fire truck, girls getting into fire truck, girls in fire truck etc.

7.35 - 7.40.  Drive with two fire fighters behind fire truck in more torrential rain to ball venue.  Girls rush into venue, firefighters get into truck and go back to the station.

7.40 - 8.00.  Drive home through torrential rain.

9.00 - 11.00.  Relax at friend's house.  Watch the All Blacks thrash the Lions.

11.00 - 11.15.  Drive back through torrential rain to ball venue.  

11.15 - 11.30.  Wait for the doors to open and the 500 young people to be released from the steamy confines.

11.30 - 11.50.  Drive daughter home through torrential rain.  

11.50 -12.10.  Wait while daughter changes out of ball gown, picks up overnight back, sleeping bag, sleeping pad etc.  Smile at son's guests and try not to look directly at strobe lighting.  Yawn repeatedly.

12.10 - 12 20.   Drive daughter out through torrential rain back into the country for 'after ball party' and overnight stay at friend's house.

12.20 - 12.45.  Drive to my friend's house in torrential rain.

12.50.  Fall into bed.

Post Script:  Kids each had fantastic evenings and N won  the 'Best Ride to the Ball' prize.  I cooked up a huge feed of bacon, mushrooms and eggs for the people I found lying around my house next morning, and used up the cream and chocolate failed fondue mixture to make hot chocolates.  (Note - son has learnt that you should warm the cream to the same temperature as the melted chocolate).


  1. Wow, what a day! I would think you collapsed in a heap in bed. Outside of the rain did everything go well for everyone? I do hope so. You know what, I was on birth control and took it how I was suppose to, so we were both a bit shocked. Now to try to get back in the same place...which means me going to France.
    Thanks, I do look forward to being a mom and see this as a blessing... and a never ending adventure of excitement and craziness.

  2. Katherine - I think you would win the NZ Supermum competition if there were such a thing. By the way, how come you "fell" into bed? Did you trip over some old junk lying on your bedroom floor? Supermums always keep their own bedrooms nice and tidy so that's a minus point I'm afraid.

  3. Ah, thank you for the compliment YP.

    Now, re falling, if you read my post again, you'd notice it was not actually my bed. Heh.

    Anyway, it's a metaphor, albeit a hackneyed one. As you well know.

  4. Hugs, Pam. Save hard, y'hear?


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