Cheetahs In My Shoes

living with the imaginary menagerie and all that it entails

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Friday Photos – Babbacombe Model Village

I wrote a little about our trip to Babbacombe Model Village for See It Snap It Love It on Tuesday.   One of the signs of a really good model village is that they plant the surroundings almost to scale – so lots and lots of little plants, generally flowering, that don’t overshadow the skill of the model makers.  I admit, I may have spent slightly more time photographing the plants and flowers (perfect height, perfect colours, I couldn’t help myself – honest) than looking at the models but I enjoyed it!

Here’s my gallery of pictures from our trip – click on any image to make it larger.



Raindrops on Bluebells

I’m sorry if I bored you with our Blog It For Babies efforts this week – however, for such a good cause, and with the goddess of Blogging that is Mammasaurus visiting… well, I hope you understand…

Now I’ll bring you back to a bit more bloggy me, with some photos.  I haven’t really enjoyed the rain, the joys of the school run in the deluge that is scheduled now (as it was, and ever shall be) for 3.15 (adjust as appropriate for your school), the feeling that essentially my joints are just going rusty and the water thrashing at the office window don’t fill me with the joys of spring.  The children have been, post birthday, like caged, over-tired animals with ridiculously short fuses and the inability to be entertained by anything.

So, what did I do?  Sneak out in the garden with my camera.  Mature, responsible parenting?  Possibly not.  Sanity saving – hell yeah.  And some (I think) pretty good pictures.  What do you reckon?

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I wrote about making pizza with our gorgeous next door neighbours last week.  As well as being some of the nicest people you could ever, in your wildest dreams, hope to live next door to, the also have a kitchen that causes me to have bad attacks of kitchen envy.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my little kitchen, my blue glass tiles and the fact that I helped build and paint it – but 10 years on, it’s showing the signs that I did help to build it and the bits that were a little bit wonky are now struggling under the weight of my newer, heavier pots and pans.

Anyway, back to the kitchen envy.  Just sitting there in a very plain white jug on her windowsill were these lovely anemones.   Picnik may have gone but Picassa has adopted many of the features so with a bit of technological jiggery pokery (although not that much), I bring you these:

I love how anemones have such beautifully defined petals but look so solid at the same time

and despite the fact you look at them as a solid colour, in the middle there’s a little blast of colour just waiting to be spotted

and that the stems may look a bit straggly but actually they’re just doing their own thing, getting ready to bring some more beautiful blooms to us.

Kitchen envy – yes, flowers in kitchen looking amazing envy – yes.  Envy is not a good thing – maybe I should go and buy some new flowers for my windowsill.  What do you think?




As I sat with my GP on Monday afternoon and talked through (ok, wobbled through) the emotional rollercoaster that the last 6 months has been, we finished with the plan to reduce my meds (slowly, carefully and being aware that it’s going to make me feel pretty rotten while I do it) and to look forward to Spring.  Some more light, some more fresh air and the time to let the events of the past few month process themselves into a place where they won’t come up and overwhelm me when I’m least expecting it.

Crumpled, teary and apparently clearly shaken when I went to retrieve the children, I wasn’t planning on needing a day to recover from the appointment, nor was I planning on making so many ridiculous mistakes in my work.  I felt like a fog had descended and had enveloped me into a fuzzy world of wobbly lines, lack of appetite and tiredness that wouldn’t allow sleep.

I also wasn’t planning on the Cheetah Keeper’s sister’s tonsils getting so infected that she couldn’t swallow and was sobbing in pain.  She’s a stoic little girl normally so to complain that things are hurting usually mean that something is properly wrong – but as she dragged herself to school on Thursday (dosed up with Calpol and refusing the offered day off) she was clearly unwell.  We then managed an hour long appointment at Great Ormond Street (more of that at a later date) and were sent home with instructions to be at the GP on Friday morning (and a list…)

This GP was lovely, she listened.  She’s already done what she said she was going to do.  The diagnosis: tonsillitis, strep throat or a virus.  She’s being treated for the strep throat as we can’t risk her getting Scarlet Fever again.  10 days of antibiotics, 4 doses a day is unpleasant but definitely better than ending up in GOSH for a fortnight, again.  I’ve watched her muscle strength decrease in front of me and whilst she’s back springing around again (and then flopping in a heap) we’re now having to factor back her physio into our routine.

I’ve slept this weekend but I still feel tired.  I’m hungry but I don’t know what I want to eat.  Jobs have been done and after the last few weeks of ‘interesting’ meal combinations we finally have a full fridge and freezer.  I’m also not entirely sure how I’ve done it – why the frozen peas were in the fridge, how I’ve managed to lose full syringes of medicine and why on earth I thought I’d find them in the microwave.  I’ve abandoned the idea of trying to catch up on my paid work and am blogging – which my GP and I both agreed was good for me – getting my thoughts in enough of an order to write them down is far healthier than having them spin around in my head in wild directions.

I did manage to get out into the garden on Friday to take some photos of ‘Spring’.  Pretty good job considering it snowed this afternoon and the temperature reached a mahoosive 2C.  Hopefully the cold won’t kill off the new growth that is beginning to spring from the ground and those little insects who have ventured out have had the sense to think ‘sod this’ and return to their winter hiding holes.  If the returning cold weather means we miss out on a ‘proper’ Spring, I’ve got these pictures to remind me…

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