the big chill

It's been bitterly cold here - absolutely freezing. Bone chillingly cold. I am wearing my snowboarding socks and my snowboarding thermals. If I walk into the back section of the house, where the heating ISN'T, my breath gets taken away. But surely I can cope with this after 5 years of London winters? Or 4 winter seasons in St Anton, Austria as a skibum? Apparently not. Admittedly this is NOT the coldest I've ever been. No. Positively balmy compared to the -26°C I experienced with Ben on Stuben, North Face (down the road from St. Anton) - not factoring in windchill either. My god that was cold. Snowboarding down was just amazing - it was fresh powder with no-one about (who would in such temperatures?)(us) - a rare occurence to have such a pristine slope to ourselves. Going up though, was a different story. The metal chair lifts were exposed, slow and in the shade...the lifties handed out blankets as we got on (I took two - legs and body) and I remember cursing and complaining: "This is not bloody HUMAN! What the hell are we doing?". Getting off at the top of each of the chairlifts - there were 3 to get where we were going - while always a bit of a test on a snowboard, with 2 blankets wrapped around me, was tricky. But I did it. And when I reached the bottom of the run, Ben would ask: "Again?" and I would reply, "Hell yeah!". We had great fun that day. We even managed to take some photographs, which was torturous since I had to take off my gloves! But it was well worth it and character building, of course. Going home was a long process - painful at times. The only part of my body that was exposed was the tip of my nose right under my goggles. I had a neck warmer pulled right up but try as I might, I could not cover that teeny weeny bit. At one point (we were just going as fast as we could to get home) we stopped to assess whether any damage had been done to my nose and Ben, (BLESS HIM!) sucked the tip of my nose back to life! Ha ha. I worked that night in the restaurant with a Rudolf red beacon of a nose. It was worth it for a day I'll never forget.

So no, not that cold. I guess central heating plays a large part in the equation too. We don't have it. Luckily, we have a heat pump, which is pretty fantastic - it does the trick quite fast. Less mess than a fire and not at all smoky. It's just that we don't have a heat pump in every room! Nevermind, I have an electric blanket now, which is something neither Ben, nor I, have ever aspired to buying. But hey, you gotta do what you gotta do!

queasy

It's been a long time since the master bedtime plan has worked...and at the risk of jynxing it, I'll continue writing. Ben is working tonight, so he's out of the equation from 5.30pm. Dinner was served between 5pm and 5.30pm (usually Ben's domain, but not ALWAYS). A bath was had between 5.30 and 6pm. The "can we play 'nudie bums'?" request was confirmed: yes. 'Nudie bums' proceeded in the usual naughty fashion with 2 nudie bums racing around the lounge dodging my attempts to put their pyjamas on. Once dressed and giggled out, Joshka had his milk while on my lap, on the couch, after which a few stories were read together on the couch. Then it was 'teeth time' where the (usual) battle of the stool takes place ie. both Mia and Joshka want to stand on the stool while they brush their teeth. A deal is struck whereby Josh can have his toothbrush loaded and then be put upon the toilet seat (closed) to begin his brushing and Mia can then step up for hers. It's important to let Josh put back his toothbrush at the end of this ritual - not to do it yourself. Surprisingly tonight Mia requested: "Can we go to bed now?" which caught me off guard...I nearly forgot the next step: a quick sneaky wee before you get into bed. All done, and into bed Mia climbed, followed, as usual by Joshka for a bit of a faux snuggle (a wriggle and a writhe, a twist and a turn) and out he slid. Goodnight kisses all round, say goodnight, pick Joshka up, let him flick off the light switch, and commence "songs". Joshka's routine request "ba BA" starts the ball rolling (Ba ba black sheep, have you any wool...etc...except at the end: and one for the little boy, Joshka is his name) followed by Mia's inevitable demand (Moo moo Jersey cow, have you any milk? yes sir yes sir, 3 pails full.....and one for the little girl, Mia is her name). A couple of rounds of that, followed by a few 'twinkle twinkle little star's" and then the coup de grâce: "Silent night". Lower Josh into the cot, cover with blankets, while humming "Silent night". Hum a few more versus with less enthusiasm and getting quieter and slowly move your way out of the room, still humming. Down the corridor, humming. Into the computer room, humming....MADE IT!
Done and dusted and it's 7.20pm.
Check out emails, facebook, dither about, and blog. Still to do: wash the dishes, let out the bath, watch 'House' and 'Boston Legal', shower, check on the kids and go to bed.
I just hope it's not a repeat of last night when, at 9.30pm, Joshka was very sick and vomited in his cot and all down his pyjamas and on every blanket. Luckily Ben was home so one of us could clean Josh up and the other could clean up the cot and remake it (hooray for the plastic protector). We sat with him for an hour (trying to watch the final episode of 'Heroes') and he was pretty happy, but luckily we had the bowl ready for round 2 and 3. We were far better prepared for his bout than we were for Mia's which came out of the blue on the weekend, when we were up in Auckland, staying at Ben's sister's place. It's never fun to clean up and deal with vomit - even less so when it's not in the comfort of your own home. And at the ungodly hour of 3.30am, it's not a barrel of laughs for anyone.

sorrow

I've been thinking a lot over the last 2 weeks, but finding it difficult to write anything down. Sadly, we are mourning the death of Ben's cousin, Kyla. She is being buried today, in the UK. Memories of her have been with me as I wake up, all through the day, and as I go to sleep. It is just too sad to bear. Looking at photographs of her, hearing her words, her laugh, seeing her smile...and thinking of the battles she fought. I take heart from the fact that her husband truly made her happy in what were to be her last years, and am gladdened that they never took a moment for granted.

It makes me think how fragile life is, and how precious my loved ones are. In death, there is a reminder of life, an almost imperceptible nudge to appreciate the here and now and all those I hold dear.