radegund: (tiny-blue-flowers)
(Lord, but I picked the WRONG week to do this meme. Or possibly the right week, if we want to get Pollyanna about it. Didn't manage to post yesterday's Happy Thing last night, because Fiachra went to bed with a temperature, and I was up and down to him all evening.)

Yesterday's Happy Thing was [livejournal.com profile] gothwalk, [livejournal.com profile] inannajones and [livejournal.com profile] olethros's Yule party, which was warm and chilled and mellow and featured lovely hosts, lovely other guests, a particularly lovely five-month-old baby, mulled Ribena, gerbils, not one but TWO toy dragons, and a constant dance to keep Fiachra away from the catfood and gin.
radegund: (stone-sparkles)
On Saturday, I was downcast nigh unto despair. I could see no way out. All was bleak and hopeless. For lo, the outfit that I'd been planning for [livejournal.com profile] glitzfrau and [livejournal.com profile] biascut's civilisation was Not Working. Horror! Horror!

I had a skirt. It's a lovely skirt - plain, long, made of sea-blue raw silk (and gleaned silk, at that, for extra smug points). I had a pair of shoes - white patent flat Mary-Janes, which are not exactly dressy, but I thought would be just quirky enough (on the Mother-of-Two axis) to work. So I abandoned [livejournal.com profile] niallm to the raucous unmercies of our sons and went into town, hunting for Something Fabulous™ to complete the outfit. Constrained by the requirement for breastfeedability, I was still hopeful that the thing could be pulled off. A plainish vest top, I was thinking, and a jacket of purest peacock. More Lady Who Lunches than Rock Chick, but I reckoned I could handle that.

Two vile, sweaty, head-throbby hours later, I retreated home, tail very much between legs. I'd found - indeed, bought - a vest top that I thought might work, but jacket came there none. It appears that peacock is not this season's vibe. In the end, I seized a beaded shruggy object that didn't look terrible with the skirt, brought the vest top back for a refund, and bailed, inwardly wailing and resigning myself to another foray into the abyss.

Cut to this afternoon, as I contemplated said foray with dread. Could I alter something to allow breastfeeding, perhaps? A discreet pair of zips on the seam of an empire-line bodice might work. It was worth a look. So I went to the wardrobe and took out, for a start, my grey silk beaded dress, to which La Glitz herself had alluded when I was bellyaching to her a couple of weeks ago about my outfitlessness (that's terrible etiquette, I know, but she didn't seem to mind...). "Nay, nay, go to," I had said to her, or words to that effect. "That dress hath a halterneck, and verily, it will not party with a nursing bra."

O me of little faith. I should've remembered the uncanny extent to which Glitz is my fashion fairy. (Srsly. We go shopping together, and shops just ... bow to her will and bring forth fabulous garments for me to wear.)

For no sooner had I taken out the dress than the solution sprang fully formed from my head. It was the work of a moment to whip off my T-shirt and wriggle into the dress. The halterneck, as expected, leaves the bra-straps exposed - BUT! BUT! it allows surprisingly easy access for feeding. And with the addition of my new shruggy object [ETA: it calls itself a "cover-u"], the bra-strap visibility is a non-issue. So as long as I remain shrugged, and take care, when untying the halterneck for a feed, not to let the whole front of the dress drop indecorously to my waist, we're good to go. It's all a bit XTREEM BEADZ0RZ OMG ELEVENTY-BEADED, but that's OK.

I mean, let's face it, I'm hardly going to outdress the civilisees.

Home again

Oct. 13th, 2006 10:40 am
radegund: (blue-pansy)
The Oyster and I are back from Edinburgh, where we had an utterly wonderful time (apart from my limpness of sinew on Wednesday evening, which prevented me from going back into town to meet [livejournal.com profile] jinxremoving - next time, next time). I can definitively confirm that the Seaside Palace is aptly named on both counts, and the welcome extended to visitors by the household is second to none.

We arrived on Monday. [livejournal.com profile] cangetmad and the Girlie met us at the airport, and we spent most of the afternoon negotiating toddler interaction and most of the evening talking. On Tuesday there was yarn shopping and lunch with [livejournal.com profile] thereyougothen, [livejournal.com profile] hfnuala and Baby Aisling (what a magnificent child!), then in the evening a takeaway featuring [livejournal.com profile] blue_monday, [livejournal.com profile] agentz, and a reappearance by Nuala and her lovely progeny. On Wednesday we met [livejournal.com profile] pisica for sort-of-elevenses, then a wander around the National Gallery, then a leisurely lunch (with brief appearance by [livejournal.com profile] aitkendrum). On Wednesday evening (following an unfortunately epic bedtime struggle, occasioned by the Oyster having napped earlier in the day) the Girlie cooked a delicious dinner, and I then experienced the abovementioned flaccidity and failed to brave the drizzle to see Nine. Boo me. We spent Thursday morning pottering around the house while I packed, and then Gnome went to nursery and the rest of us went to the airport.

Some things I learnt:
* The average small business (in the UK) has a pregnant employee once in ten years.
* Dolphins' tails are horizontal relative to their bodies, whereas sharks' tails are vertical.
* In the UK, if you buy sex, you're excluded from donating blood for a set period. But if you sell sex, even once, you're excluded forever.
* Gnome is Jesus.

Gnome and the Oyster got on like a house on fire - you know, lots of running, screaming and panicked grabbing of possessions, ahahaha - but seriously, they coped exceptionally well with the sharing and the turn-taking, which is bloody hard work at their age. By Thursday, there were even stretches of co-operative and parallel play. Meanwhile, [livejournal.com profile] cangetmad and I also got on extremely well - although I should point out that I was not rummaging through her possessions, crying and/or assaulting her when she had something I wanted, or insistently sanding her floor using a small wheeled cow, so that could have had something to do with it.

All in all, a really lovely visit. Thank you, hosts!
radegund: (stone-sparkles)
Happy happy happy birthday to the wonderful [livejournal.com profile] kulfuldi, who turns 30 today! Which means that we have known each other for, oh, 30 years minus probably a couple of weeks - a long and fruitful friendship :-) Hope drinks in Abkhazia prove as glitzy as they promise.
radegund: (Default)
ONE [livejournal.com profile] glitzfrau is back in town! She is foxy and funny and fine, and her haircut and conversation are most excellent. Plus, I have now encountered the GOLD COWBOY BOOTS in the flesh (or rather, with the flesh in them). Mmmmmmmm. La Glitz, Oisín and I are going Down The Country this weekend, to a house of astonishing pinkness. Yay!

TWO As you may remember, I'm following The No-Cry Sleep Solution in an attempt to get Oisín to sleep for more than 4 hours at a stretch. We did another monitored night on Tuesday, and it went really well. He woke up only twice. (Admittedly, the second time he howled and fretted for most of an hour, but he had nappy rash, so I don't blame him ... and anyway, this is a list of GOOD things.) His longest sleep span was only 3 hours 44 minutes, but last night he slept from 19:30 to 0:55. Like, 5 hours 25 minutes! How cool is that?

THREE I've got choir practice this evening. I've been away from my beloved chamber choir for more than a year, and I've really missed it. We started back last week, and the rehearsal went really well. My sight-reading is a little rusty, but I'm still well able to hold my own. The programme for this term seems scrumptious. Happy dances.

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