I'm accused of being a mother quite often these days. I say accused, because I don't have any children of my own.

Most times when I'm mistaken for a mother it's because I'm taking advantage of the opportunity to carry my snugly goddaughter around.

Over the weekend, I got temporarily assigned as mother to the new bairn.

clanmorrissey, otherwise known as A&C, met up with me at the Bon Accord centre for a cup of coffee in the early afternoon of Sunday. We dropped off the two girls at the creche (nothing like a ball pool to get toddlers excited!) and went down to Costa.

After a much needed infusion of caffiene, C went to look at prices for a new raincoat and A and I went into John Lewis. I needed one last bit of tartan ribbon to finish off the girls' flowergirl dresses.

The new baby had slept through the coffee and most of the way through John Lewis. I bought the ribbon and then caught up to A. He'd gone to look at some new buggy that does everything but make tea and hoover the front room.

When I got there, a couple with a toddler were admiring the baby.
As I arrived, the women said something similar to 'oh, I can see the lack of sleep in your eyes'.

'Sorry, I'm not the mother', I said.

I suppose I could be offended (since I don't think I look that tired), but I can't be bothered.

As I said above, most times, I'm mistaken for being the mother of my goddaughter.
I can tell you right now why people think such. C is thin as a rail with a perfect figure.
It looks impossible that she could have given birth to three children.

Whereas, I look like I probably could have, apparently. :)

I was going to make this great travelogue post, but I don't think I'll have time to get to it this month.

So, photos are here. Have fun.

My darling goddaughter is two years old today. Hurrah!



In completely other news, ybunny and I traveled back and forth to Edinburgh in the last two days. Mostly to take the familia to the airport for their return flight, but also to spend a bit of time in the capitol.

We returned to Bar Roma to let drjoan experience gluten-free pasta in a restaurant for the first time in 7 years as well as a return to David Bann's, again with percible.

Today, after some shopping for a new evening shirt for ybunny to wear with his kilt, we ate a Wannaburger. A new taste treat, the Aussie burger, was sampled. I'm not sure that any Aussie would claim it...but whatever.
The burger consisted of a bean patty with a fried egg, a slice of pineapple, and beetroot. ybunny said, 'It sounds horrible, but I have to try it'.
It was actually pretty good. And I don't like pineapple on savoury things usually.



In yet other news, and this time with a bizarre twist, there are bison grazing just north of Stonehaven.
Bison, as in, buffalo. As in, the ones ones from North America.
Maybe you're not surprised, but I was.

We're going to clean tomorrow and sort out the last of (hopefully) the wedding details.

This week has been an absolute rush! I thought that things would calm down after the theology conference colloquium last week. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

I did get back on schedule with one thing: I spent the afternoon with C and the girls.

It was a lovely day out in Balmedie.

Points of interest
- the sister learned to say 'recalcitrant', 'variegated', 'tintinnabulation', and 'harmonica' today.
- the goddaughter can now say 'Tom'. Well, actually, she say 'Thom'. You can definitely hear the 'h'.
- I mowed the lawn. Can't let C do it in her condition and A is gone to the rig unexpectedly.
- I must learn to make cauliflower cheese. Delightful.

Tomorrow I will see Pirates 3, pack for Cornwall, and install a cat flap.

...but it's really not. There's just little nagging irritations.

The good has been really good. I got a 'thumbs up' from my advisor on the conference paper I present next week, I've got my wedding invitations in the mail from drjoan, and I've gotten to spend time with my goddaughter and her family.

But, that doesn't stop the irritating bits. Besides, the irritating bits are always more interesting, aren't they?

1. Don't give the hymns to the organist/pianist the day before church. You wouldn't do that to the preacher. Or, if you did, you'd not be surprised when they preached something they've done previously. You don't give them a new topic and say 'you must use this one!' (I've always kindof wondered what you do in that sort of circumstance, vicarchori?)
Stop trying to make me play campfire songs at church. It makes me sad to have to be a big bitch and tell you I won't play drivel.

2. If you're going to argue with me about the language of the Bible, New Testament or Tanakh, please...I beg of you...try to have a small idea of what you're getting into. I don't care what translation you use, IT'S STILL A TRANSLATION. *ahem* Also, if we're not good friends, I'm not going to argue with you on a spiritual level, only an academic one.
I don't feel comfortable making faith statements about my spirituality with strangers. And if that makes me a left wing crazy for engaging with the historical critical method academically, than fine.

3. I still beat myself up about not going to medical school. I don't need anyone to tell me I'm better suited for what I'm doing currently. I know that. But sometimes, academia seems futile compared to jobs that make an immediate difference in the world.
kthxbai.

That's all for now, folks.

One of my favorite movies is The English Patient
By a happy coincidence, it also contains one of my favorite quotes.
Katherine: I'm impressed you can sew.
Almásy: Good.
Katherine: You sew very badly.
Almásy: Well, you don't sew at all.
Katherine: A woman should never learn to sew, and if she can she shouldn't admit to it.

I however, do admit to it...at least on occasion.



One of the flower girl dresses for the wedding, in progress.
(The light makes the bit of tartan over the sewing machine look odd...)

I'm a big ball of nerves at the moment.

Oh, yes...I had my essay for my second PhD meeting done ahead of time. However, the ghost of previous failures has raised its head.

I am currently going through edit number seven. I'd just go to bed, but I've already tried that. So, we'll hope that my brain takes seven as its lucky number and stops this insanity.

I think it's getting worse the more I edit it. It's certainly getting longer. The bleeding thing is only meant to be three pages. I second guess myself so much at this point, it's a wonder anything stays on the page at all. *sigh*

Maybe I'll take my German edition of Faust through to the bedroom and see if that bores me to sleep.

Tomorrow will be saved by going to see C and the two girls. Hooray for my adorable and snuggly goddaughter.

Well, it's been a long holiday season, but a good one.

I went for Hogmanay to A & C's, A and I stayed up until the bells, but C turned in early.

Over the three days that I spent, I got to hear my goddaughter's first word, 'Juice'.

I was holding a glass of soda and she pointed and said 'Juice' quite clearly (thus ending my irritation with the word juice being applied to soda inexplicably and non-differentially in this country).

She's a cutie and she knows she has all of us in the hollow of her little hand.

I thought about it a little later and realized, that while I can remember things from very early on in my childhood, I can't remember my first words. (A bit understandable, but I do remember things from 18 months, so it wouldn't be far off...)

The first thing I consciously remember saying was actually singing. I used to sing a song about coming when Mommy calls (which I can only remember the last line of for certain) and thought about how some of the words were repeated. Bizarre.

Any one remember their first words? If you don't what were you told that you said first?

I couldn't sleep last night. It was my own fault. Oh, well.

Armed with no sleep and Goldfish crackers, I spent the day with my goddaughter, her sister and her mother. We had a fantastic day and I didn't even begin to feel my exhaustion until the chilluns went to bed. There was much singing and playing and I even got to teach the sister a little German. Goldfish crackers are magic.

I came home to discover that I have indeed not been provided with hymn numbers for tomorrow's church service. I am, to put it mildly, irritated. It's bad enough to have to play the hymns sight unseen, but worse to do so when I know I'll be tired. As my sister says, I'm mad now, but tomorrow when they give me a bogus excuse, I'll buckle...like a belt. *headdesk*

I'll really be looking forward to Skalloween by the time evening rolls around.

PS to anyone who doesn't previously know me and who will be at Skalloween: I'll be one of the Blues Brothers. I'm stoked. Yes, that's right, that's what gets me going these days.

I was re-united with my vintage really old sewing machine while home. Seriously. 1952 model. I don't think I'd even begin to know how to use a newer one. My paternal grandmother gave me the machine and I've used it tons.

So, my goddaughter doesn't use a dummy/pacifier. She has a thing for the corner of her polarfleece blanket. Unfortunately, hauling a 3' x 4' blanket around is either too big or too hot to be useful.

I bought a yard of polarfleece while home and made up mini-blankets for her to use as comforters. In the inimitable way of babies, she'll probably have nothing to do with them, but at least they were fun to make. :)

Well, neepheid and I have a godchild. And the weirdness of having a child together hit us both.

Other than a small amount of nose picking (the baby, not me...) it went smoothly and was beautiful. I'm always struck by how good both of the children are. It was also nice to meet all the grandparents.

The christening cake was lovely and Erin thoroughly enjoyed it. She enjoyed it by rubbing it all over her hands, face, and head and then adding some of it to my hair.


In the evening, for a change of pace, we met up for supper with percible, Jayne, and Cambell/Cameron/I couldn't ask him again without seeming crazy. Nice to meet another of the Aberdeen bloggers since I missed the last get together.

Then to put a bizarre spin on things, I fell asleep on the couch after talking to drjoan and woke up disoriented about 8 am.

For those of you who were christened, what were you given as christening gifts from your godparents?

(If you know...I realize that you probably won't remember the getting of the gifts...a bit young for that. :) )

EDIT: I found the same bank I had when I was little! Awww...so cute! I don't know if I'll get it, but still...cool.