A little snip here, and a great big cut there...

Today…it was warm! Well alright, warm might be stretching it a bit, but it wasn’t cold! And I felt warm after trying to mow the lawn.

Our lawn is a bitch, and I’m really being polite here. Other people moan about having to cut theirs, but ours is truly a nightmare. The grass itself is nice enough, but the angle is a killer. Have I complained about it before? Well if I did, it must have been last summer, and if I can’t recall writing it, I’ll take the chance you can’t remember reading about it.

We bought the house from an old couple, and I KNOW I’ve complained about the house before. It’s horrid, a house from hell, and a money pit to boot. So I bet you’re wondering why we bought this place (I often do!) – would you believe, because of the garden…?! The trouble with buying a house because of the garden is, when the gardeners have gone, it doesn’t much stay the garden of your dreams.

We were so bowled over the first few times we saw this place. It was the start of summer and between the quaint pathways, boarders full of colour, and the mountain of green, we were smitten. We should have thought a little more about that mountain of green, should have realised it looked impressive because the mountain of time it takes to keep it, is impressive! And that little old man we bought the house from was such a liar. Reckoned half an hour a week was all it took. Bloody, bloody, bloody liar! No way on this earth would it take anyone just half an hour.

But it has become a benchmark. The first time I attempted to mow it (full of joyful enthusiasm I might add!), I had to stop three times before I finished, lest I pass out. It’s like that at the start of each season, the first few mows near kill you, then you get a couple of goes which you struggle to finish, then you’re down to an hour and a half sweaty labour with the added pleasure of knowing you’re getting fitter.

I’m not fit right now. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever been more pleased that a machine broke down, than I was today. The mower just stopped. Probably in protest as it didn’t get its annual service (yep, our mower is that fancy (and expensive), it demands an annual service). So now I have a half finished lawn. Darn silly looking too. But at least my lines were straight(ish), plus it doesn’t have personal vanity issues about looking half-cut.

Unlike my daughter, S, who’s also sporting a half cut design. Ah, the joy of the first haircut! Bet you’re imagining my littlest sweetheart throwing a fit whilst at the hairdressers, and us having to leaving half way through. Wish it was that amusing.

It was her first haircut, but she went one better. It was also the first ‘Wouldn’t it be cool to cut our hair…ourselves?!’ moment. J was the one playing hairdresser. She cropped herself first, but thankfully was determined to see what she was doing and didn’t have the brains to look in the mirror. As such, her clump is a good three inches long. Thank heavens.

But J still had the urge for snipping.

Most kids bald their dolls; plenty of scary barbies about. But why ruin a perfectly good doll, when you have you’re very own sister sitting in front of you?

But her hairdressing skills are on par with the BH’s early green-finger attempts (cut first, ask questions later).

I’m not even going to give you a laugh and show you a picture.

Thankfully the barber was able to even out the back, but there really isn’t anything you can do with 5mm clumps at the front. The barber reckoned we were lucky, reckoned S’s hair colour and curls helped to mask the worst, and the BH is confident this is a memory we shall laugh at.

I might. If the whole event wasn’t shadowed by the lies. They were absolutely unbelievable! Or maybe that should be too believable. Both of them.

They stood there blatantly telling me they hadn’t had the scissors and didn’t know what had happened to their hair! At the time I focussed on S, because…well, I didn’t think J would lie to me like that. Didn’t think she could. In all the years I have had kids, and even with the worst antics of the boys, I have never had a child stick to her story so well, looking so angelic and bewildered, when I could see the evidence in front of me! She almost had me wondering how it could possibly have happened.

She buckled when I said neither of them would go to the party (that afternoon) if someone didn’t tell me what had happened. Of course I had to let them go to the party – we’d accepted the invitation, and she did spill the truth.

So after many sighs from me and a mad dash into town for an un-scheduled haircut (that’s why we ended up at the barbers!), I attached bright clips into what was left of the front of S’s hair and sat through a princess party (and you know how I love those!)

As I chatted with the other moms, I was able to smile about it (except whenever S came into view) but then , yesterday morning, J lied to me again! This time it was just about empting my shampoo and conditioner into the bath, but still…this child is going to be the end of me!

After the first lie, we’d had a long chat about telling the truth and I thought J understood why I was so cross, but apparently not. So we had yet another chat, and now they’ve also lost the TV from their room.

I just cannot believe how an accomplished a liar she is, at five. If it’s like this now, what will things be like in another ten years?! This is harder than the things with P ever were, at least with boys ‘what you see is what you get’, but girls…

Anyway, enough of the children (I’ve certainly had enough of them), let’s talk about something sweet and fun…puppies!

Unfortunately we’re not moving forward very quickly. Waiting on airline quotes and trying to figure out how we’re going to get him here. The boring puppy stuff I suppose, but it can’t really be cute until the little darling arrives ;o)

Rdl asked if he was the big guy in the front (of the picture I posted) – I don’t think so. The picture is one from the breeder we’re using, but I think it’s a promotional one rather than the litter that's available now. But I have asked for pictures, so hopefully soon…

Dave asked if he could look after him for six weeks – unfortunately he can’t leave mom for another two weeks, and if we can, we’re hoping to find a private pilot to nip us over and pick him up asap. But if that isn’t possible, and if the breeder goes and charges me for the extra time – then maybe! (And maybe you should be careful what you wish for ;o))

Sam asked if there weren’t breeders locally – yes there are, but it works out not that much more expensive to do it this way, and it avoids the long waiting lists. But I have checked out the breeder very thoroughly, and spoken with others who have her dogs.

Doug asked if we thought his patients would object to him carrying a shivering Chihuahua in his pocket – over here they would! Not because you have a dog in you pocket (in fact that would probably make you incredibly popular) but because we don’t like to see dogs shiver. Shame on you, planning to chill a Chihuahua!

Ivy asked if we’ve thought of a name yet – yes! We have a front runner, but I’m suddenly afraid of jinxing things by telling too soon, but I won't be able to keep quiet for long and as soon as everything is definite, I'll spill!

Can’t wait!

(Umm, wonder how long it’ll take me to rue my hurry ;o))