02 January, 2016

I'm bored

I know!!!!! For years we've had to entertain the kids, especially when the weather is as brutal as it is now, but now ... little or no entertaining needed.  No. 1 is off to play poker, No. 2 is playing with No. 3 and ... I'm bored.
Of course, I could tidy the house or some such shite but I really don't want to.  I mean, it just gets undone again so quickly.  Mind you, if I don't tidy on an hourly basis I get stressed and become convinced I am going to end up on Channel 4 on one of those 'manky hoarder house' specials.
I joined a site called Unfuck your Habitat and it sends you reminders to do things e.g. 'clean the counter' (which I clean by moving stuff to the table) and 'clear the table' etc.  It get's me nowhere fast.  The only way I really get into cleaning is if everyone leaves the house and I can mutter about what bastards they are by leaving me home alone to clean, even though that is what I asked them to do.  Or, someone rings to say they are calling around.  I can clean the house in 10 minutes tops in that instance.
Nah, don't want to clean.  Don't want to upload photos or do cake stuff or anything.  
Properly bored.  Do hope this boredom doesn't inspire me to clean out presses and stuff, that always ends up with empty presses and me rocking backwards and forwards in a corner somewhere.  
I could ..... what?  What can I do today?  Afraid to fall back into the telly, watched three seasons of Scandal in two days, and, sad sigh, my eyesight is so shagged I am struggling to read my new book.  Eeeek.  
It's too muddy and filthy to go for a walk in the mountains so what's a girl to do? 
Okay, c'mon Niamh.  Up and .... hello Twitter!


The middle chap has been asking me, nay, hounding me for weeks to work out how to get all his photos off the camera and onto the computer.  That bit was easy btw.  Then it was all "How do I make a stop motion movie???"
Yeah, not so easy.  
Long story short, here's no. 2's first stop motion video.  I, why me?, have to work out how to add audio but I'm alright with that.  It'll be worth the hours of googling just so you can hear the script he put together with no. 3.
Oh, and I got the stand here!


23 December, 2015

Norad make Christmas magical for me ... every year xxx

    Photo source here

I didn't intend to blog today, it's Christmas Day after all but last night . . . well, something really magical happened.  We had everyone over for our annual Christmas Eve dinner and it was a bit sad because it's Eoin and Za's last one here with us for a while and it was also a bit sad because during the year my mam's big serving plates got smashed - not normally a big deal but it was a way of including them.  This year though we invited Himself's family and boosted the numbers up to a whopping 12 adults and 3 kids (my Turkish Delight doesn't count yet as she doesn't need a chair).  It was a great night, kids were delighted with themselves, the gravy was out of this world and the company was second to none.  But the 'magic'?  Well, Himself handed me his phone and said 'you're onto Norad - Santa Tracker'.  There was a lovely man at the end of the phone and I told him who I was and were I was ringing from and then I asked the big question 'When will Santa be here?'  He said 'M'am, he'll be in Dublin, Ireland, between nine and midnight but ONLY if the children are asleep.  He'll call back later if they're not.  He's making good time because of the winds, Happy Christmas Ma'am.  Goodnight.'  To say I nearly peed with excitement.  I love that there are men and women (I rang FOUR times) who are at bases and doing this for all of us.  
I pulled the following article from ABC News. Promise me you'll ring them next year, you can check the whereabouts of the Big Man on 001 719 556 5211.  It's the most wonderful thing ever.

On Christmas Eve, children all around the world will lie awake  wondering if, at any moment, Santa Claus will slide down their chimneys and leave the presents of their dreams. But all they really have to do is call in or go online to find out where Santa and his team of reindeers are at any given moment.
Every year, the North American Aerospace Defense Command tracks Santa’s journey around the world, using radar, satellite, fighter aircraft and, of course, a “Santa Cam.”
The tradition began as so many do – by accident. In 1955, a little girl who saw a Sears and Roebuck ad called in to what she thought was a Talk-to-Santa hotline. But she did not hear Santa Claus on the other end of the line.
Instead, she heard Col. Harry Shoup. He was working in the CONAD ops center (NORAD’s predecessor) and was shocked to hear a child’s voice. According to a NORAD spokesperson, John Cornelio, only two people had the number for that line – the president and the four-star  commander.
As it turned out, the department store had printed the wrong number in the ad and alas, a  tradition was born.
“It’s the innocence of the story that makes it so special,” Cornelio said. And Harry Shoup was given a new title- he is known as  Santa Colonel.
Since that innocent phone call more than 50 years ago, NORAD tracks Santa’s progress around the globe, year after year.
To track his journey this Christmas Eve, you can visit the NORAD website, or call in to 877-HI-NORAD.
The NORAD Santa Tracker also uses social media to connect with Santa enthusiasts. NORAD has Facebook and Twitter pages, and a YouTube channel. And this year, for the first time, NORAD has a smart phone application for Andriod and iPhone users.
NORAD expects more than 80,000 phone calls and 20 million people using its website to track Santa this year.
So come Christmas Eve, when not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse, break the silence and see just how close Santa is to bringing joy to your area.

02 November, 2015

Chicken Soup .... the spicy noodle one!

I felt pants and went searching for a chicken soup recipe.  Something that would work on making my post migraine head feel better and, you know, taste great.  This is a combination of several recipes.  I use leftover chicken, as always have left over chicken in the house.  
So, instead of doing the spice thing with raw chicken I put my shredded chicken into a Tupperware tub thing, measure the spices in on top of it and then give it a good shake.

This is what it looks like .....

This is what you need to make it....

All the left over chicken  you can spare, about 400g.  Alternatively you can use 400g of raw chicken thighs (best flavour) or breast.
2 tbsp rapeseed oil, or whatever oil you prefer.
1 tsp ground cumin.
0.5 tsp chili powder.
0.5 tsp cayenne pepper.
0.5 tsp dried oregano.
0.75 tsp oregano, dried.
05 tsp salt.
0.75 tsp ground black pepper.

All of the above is for your chicken.  If using left overs, place the chicken in a lunchbox or tub and chuck the spices on top and give it a good shake.  Omit the olive oil though, you don't need it for left over chicken.
If using raw chicken, Preheat oven to 190c.  Put the chicken on a large baking tray lined with parchment paper. Drizzle with 2 tablespoons of oil and sprinkle with spices. Place in the oven and bake for 25 minutes.  Turn the chicken halfway through the cooking time.  Once cooked, pull into small chunks using two forks

For your soup you need:

2 tbsp oil.  
3/5 carrots, peeled and sliced.
3 stalks of celery, diced.  I NEVER use celery, 'tis an evil vegetable.
1 large onion, diced.
10 cloves of garlic, crushed/minced?!
Pinch of salt.
1 litre of chicken stock, i.e. water and two stockpots.
1 pint of water .... for good measure.
1 bay leaf.
Juice of one lemon.
Noodles or pasta 

Heat the oil in a large pot over a medium flame. Add carrots, celery (nope), and onion, and cook, stirring occasionally, for about five minutes, until onion is soft.  Add garlic and salt and cook for another minute before adding the bay leaf, water and chicken stock. Increase the heat to high, bring soup to a boil, then reduce heat to low and simmer for 10 to 15 minutes, or until the vegetables are just how you like them (i.e. a bit of bite).  Stir in cooked chicken and lemon juice. Taste soup to adjust seasonings, then serve at once.

As for the noodles/pasta I cook them separately, according to packet instructions, and dish out into bowls before adding the soup. That way people can have what they want and the noodles//pasta don't get disgustingly soft.  


p.s. you can add whatever veggie you fancy and it really is gorgeous. 

16 June, 2015

Wouldn't you love to just . . . ..

..... be honest?  I sent a very polite email to someone recently telling them I was disappointed in how they had wasted my time in asking for several quotes but then ditching me at the 11th hour.
What I really wanted to say was 'Fuck you, you fucking fuck' but that, it would seem, is not professional.
I price around but would never let anyone go so far as to start working for me and then say 'er, no, you're grand'.  Have this overwhelming urge to send her an invoice for time spent to date on working out how her bloody mickey mouse head should be made etc.  Plus the logistics of making a cake that no one will eat but instead will smash.  Grrrrrr.


12 June, 2015

No. 3 turned 10!!!

The baby is, I guess, not a baby anymore.  Which, I guess, means I had better stop calling that extra weight baby fat.  
Yes, the boy and joy turned ten on Wednesday.  The 10th of Summer as he used to call his birthday date when he was little.  Most years, he has been ill for his birthday, I don't know how it happens but he always is.  The most memorable ill birthday was this one, the one with the suppository.  
This year, he has a broken collar bone.  No. 2 pushed him and he fell landing on his shoulder and ... snap.  Three hours in hospital and then . . . well, at this moment in time, I think I've been awake since Monday.  It's now Friday! He is grand during the day but at night, that's where the fun starts.  He moves, a lot, in his sleep.  Everything he moves, the bone wriggles, he screams and I age another few hours.  I'm more grey now than ever.  Well, I was, I coloured my hair yesterday as I was a show.

Yeah, no. 2 pushed no. 3 and then convinced no. 3 to lie about how it all happened.  Apparently the, not very, christian Christian had shoved no. 3 and legged it.  This is the story we were told in the kitchen.  I was all set to leg it after him and rip his arms off when I thought it might be better to get an xray first.  I had just reversed the car and driven around the corner when no. 3, through the snot and tears, told me that it was actually no. 2 that had pushed him and he had gone along with the lie as no. 2 told him, no. 3, that I would give out to all and sundry if it was an in house shoving incident.
You should have seen me reverse back around the corner.  Smooooth. Fit exactly into the space I had left three minutes earlier  No. 2 was playing on the street and, as I came down the road, backwards, you could see him just think 'fuck'.  I got out of the car, pointed to him and simply said 'IN.  NOW'.  Told Himself that the unchristian Christian hadn't pushed no. 3 but no. 2 had.  Gave the shover a bollocking about lying and gave the shovee a bollocking about lying and headed in to Temple Street.

So, his birthday.  He got a videogame (why are they still called that?) and a book I can't pronounce that you read from back to front and right to left?!  He also got to have his birthday tea in the garden.  Billy has a hatred of balloons and Stella is terrified of them.  Also, sad face, this is the last birthday that Fiona and Dilan will be here for.  This time next month they'll be living in Turkey and I'll be an sibling-less in Dublin.  That really is a crock of shite you know.  Smaller world, easier travel, blah, blah just means that everyone lives further away.

Anyway, his birthday, he had cake (bought lol), balloons, pizza and all of us.  Oh, and sunshine.  Gorgeous sunshine.  Perfect, huh?

I am a bad blogger

I really am.  Funny things have been happening, tedious things too . . . I just haven't told you any of it.  
I bought a new laptop though so, touch wood, I shall be blogging away merrily from the sofa in the near future.  I'm blaming the 'held together with sellotape and spit' laptop that you couldn't move from the table for fear of it falling apart on my lack of blogging.  Something very bleagh about being made sit at the table to write.  I feel like I'm being punished or made do my homework.

Right, going to have a hoosh through photos and see what's what, shall tell you about the new dog (who has been living with us for 7 months now) and how we can no longer watch the telly or dvds as the wagon has eaten all the remote controls.

Oh, about the whack a mole rat, how no. 2 pushed no. 3 and blamed the not very christian Christian and how BOB rang to say she was lost! 

24 April, 2015

My Port Tunnel Nightmare

Nothing like being a minute into the port tunnel only to realise there has been an incident and the instructions are 'slow down'.
It would be so much better if they could fit "don't panic, the tunnel isn't collapsing, there is no fire, flood or exploding petrol tank, forget that movie you saw years ago with Sylvester Stallone in it, you'll be grand" on the little signs
Even if they could just post up "a car had a bump but's it's fine, honestly, barely a scratch", yes, that would be so much better.
I read 'incident' and thought all of the above and ... threw up in my lap.
Off for a lie down.

Going for a lie down.

21 April, 2015

....if you keep fighting you are all up for adoption!

Today, whilst trying to remember what time I had to be relaxing having coffee with friends, I got so wound up trying to email, talk on the phone and make a TARDIS that the noise from the playroom was doing my head in.
Shrieking and fighting and bashing off things, ffs, do they not know there is more to my every day life than them?
So, in I went.  I stood in the doorway, hands on hips whilst all three faces turned to me....

"Stop fucking fighting", I roared.  "Get your shit together or I'm putting you up for adoption!!"

Little fuckers just flicked their tails and went into their box and snickered darkly about how loopy their human is.  Sodding rats, you either love them or hate them.

13 April, 2015


Dear No. 2,

You know I love you with all my heart but . . .  if you continue to leave that lego image, cataglogue number and directions to nearest toy shop (never mind the fricking notes) all over the house for me to find I may have to skin you.


Mam xx

p.s. Even if we had the money,  €200 is waaaay too much to be spending on a birthday present that isn't a bike.