Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Once again, this is not Pseudo Supermum's day.

You know I mentioned Super-Spouse's really sore leg, the other day? Well, today he rang me at work to inform me that it is now really very sore. He went to the doctor. I took him to Casualty.

Yes, it really is very sore - it may be a thrombosis. He's rather disappointed that he won't be going all the way to Dornoch to visit an old friend tomorrow - but he's going back to the hospital for a vein test to see what's going on. He got an injection this evening and was told to go home and act normally.

What did he do? Spent the night on the phone. That's normal.

Watch this space for further updates.

Oh, yes - on a different subject - I've discovered my StatCounter tells me all sorts of interesting things about how folk find Pseudo-Supermum's website. The fascinating thing is that there's someone out there in Belfast who visits me quite often. Could I find out more than that, though? Nah! Your anonymity is still guaranteed. Thank you for visiting, all the same - I appreciate that.

The image is "Anxiety", by Munch - courtesy of

Monday, February 26, 2007

This is not PseudoSupermum's day
February 26

Did you read the small print? Too true it wasn't my day. In the morning, I merely had a stiff neck and a headache. Simple - drink coffee, take painkillers, chill out at lunchtime.

I went back to work after half an hour - thinking I would have gained myself time to take off later. What happened?

Cello-Kid dropped his cello.

Not that he told me himself - oh no! - for his phone had run out of top-up. So SuperSpouse phoned and left a message.

"Have you heard about the disaster with the cello? He's had an accident with it." (Visions of a smashed cello, and me trying to claim on the musical instrument cover ...) He's been told you'll know this man who mends violins ...

Could I contact C-K? No. The school? Yes. The music department? No. Their phone was out of order.

Ah well, move straight on to strategy B - finding the man who mends violins (and violas and cellos). He and I know plenty of people in common, but until this evening we didn't know each other. His name wasn't what SuperSpouse had told me. He no longer owned the shop my friend told me about. And his business, differently-named to what I'd been told, was now in a different place.

No problem! I tracked him down, and left work that half-an-hour early, to give myself just a little bit of spare time before starting the evening commitments.

After Viola-Kid's lesson, we went to collect the casualty from Cello-Kid and transport it by Xantia-mbulance to the nice gentleman who mends string instruments. Fifteen minutes later, it was fixed. The cello wasn't smashed. The bridge wasn't broken - it had merely collapsed when C-K dropped the cello face-down, and when the bridge collapses, so does the soundpost...

Back home again, with Viola-Kid plus viola plus convalescent cello. Had a coffee, and now SuperSpouse has taken it back to the Careless Kid. Who will, I hope, have learned a salutory lesson.

So have I. Never completely believe voicemail messages.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

I'm on my knees - it must be Sunday afternoon!

Super-Spouse has been conspicuously absent this weekend. He worked yesterday morning, and went to Model-Rail yesterday afternoon. Went BACK to Model-Rail this morning, and is out with his choir this afternoon. Cello-Kid has been equally conspicuously absent, away on an orchestral course. So that left me and C-K's younger brothers.

We're not so much taxi-drivers as roadies to our youngsters. Yesterday, I ferried Viola-Kid to his various engagements. Super-Spouse transported C-K to his music course.

Today, it's my turn - I've had three church services to play for. Viola-Kid and Ocarina-Kid weren't too chuffed to find themselves back at church after a cheese toastie lunch. At least they don't have to turn out a third time. Super-Spouse is, even as I write, collecting C-K back from his course.

Meanwhile, I've cooked Sunday dinner - you can't call it lunch, at 5 pm. Viola-Kid appeared beside me, and engagingly asked, "NOW can we go to Toys'R'Us?"

"But it's dinner in half an hour ...!"

"It's alright - we can get there and back in twenty minutes."

Watch my lips. NO! I'm tired, my shoulder and arm are sore, I have to keep an eye on the vegetables, and I ain't goin' nowhere in the next hour!

Friday, February 23, 2007

Now he's really gone and done it! To add to the sore hand (last week, and continuing) and the sore heel (since Monday) - Viola Kid fell downstairs last night. So whatever was sore before, pales into insignificance compared to the pain of a bruised shoulder and back. Out comes the arnica cream, the Calpol, the hot water bottle ...

We don't know how it happened - but somersaulting downstairs, even accidentally, is really not recommended. As he would readily agree!

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Men! (a rant)

Where do I begin? Yesterday, I gave a research paper, which had taken me hours to prepare.

"Good luck, dear!", he yelled, as I left the house.

"How did you get on?", as I came back from work.

I jest, of course. So, you might reasonably ask - when did my dear spouse remember that, actually, his wife had been doing something significant during her working day?

1.15 am, after he had watched some late-night TV whilst I slumbered beside him on the settee. I was knackered. So, when we finally staggered upstairs, I fell into bed, reached for the alarm-clock, and commented that at least I didn't need to set the alarm for 6.30 am this time.

It was as though a light had come on. "Your paper! How did it go?"

"Who cares? You don't!", as my head hit the pillow and I went straight back to the land of Nod ...

I suppose 5.5 hours sleep isn't bad going, but I still wasn't in the best of moods when the alarm clock woke me this morning.

"Mum? My foot's still sore ..." There was no swelling, no redness, but Viola-Kid had been grumbling about it since Monday. There was nothing for it - he'd have to go to the doctor. He was only at the surgery last week with a sore hand. Anyone would think he was accident-prone!

Could Super-Spouse take him to the surgery? He wasn't (we thought) due at work until 11.30 am. No. A colleague had misinformed him, and he had to be at work earlier. Better not risk it. (And, I thought privately, if we ended up going for an X-ray, then it was better for me to be late at the library than for Super-Spouse to be late at the crematorium where he plays the organ. Books can wait more readily than grieving families.)

The doctor was sympathetic. No swelling, no redness, no need for bandages or tubigrip, no need to miss PE at school, and he didn't recommend amputation as he thought it too messy. I don't think Viola-Kid realised his leg was being pulled ...

Back to the house to take Calpol before rejoining his classmates. Super-Spouse was equally sympathetic, but still didn't want to take him to school. Because now - wait for it - HIS whole leg was sore. Men! Don't you just love 'em?

(Image from - it's a website about family health.)
Nora, the piano-playing cat (U-tube video)

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Life with an enthusiast:

A plague on people who empty the contents of their attic into someone else's house (namely, our house) ...

How can I keep the place tidy when THIS happens:-

And I wouldn't be complaining so much, if THIS hadn't happened earlier in the week:-

I have just become a Great Aunty (I'm too young!!!) - so, let me introduce you to Kieran, born 8 February 2007.

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

How to get PseudoSupermum from Glasgow to Leicester and back, CHEAPLY, for a meeting beginning at 10 am on Tuesday 13th February?

Here's a challenge! (I might as well tell you now - I failed.)

  1. It is not on to have to make two overnight coach-journeys, each lasting almost 12 hours, even if it did work out at £52.

  2. I tried various combinations of rail travel - even travelling from Edinburgh, or going to various other destinations. No cheap tickets to be had.

  3. Flying? No flights!
  4. I consider myself too old to hitch lifts. (The charming picture is from, but I don't think they would transport an ageing librarian anywhere, do you?)

It's all very frustrating, when I really would have liked to have attended that meeting!

Having wasted an inordinate amount of time trying to sort out the conundrum, I turned to the weekly online shopping order. Done! But how much time have I got left for research reading? Not nearly enough.

Sunday, February 04, 2007

Cello-Kid is not just a talented musician ...

This link takes you to the video that he made yesterday. He performs the trick, devised the video, etc, etc, etc ....

Saturday, February 03, 2007

I was sent this by a friend the other day. I suspected it might be an urban myth, but it's very funny all the same:-

.. we offer the following ad which recently ran in a Utah publication. It's even funny without the inevitable Utah and marriage humor implications.

$10,000 06' Suzuki GSXR 1000 Farmington, UT 84025 - Aug 7, 2006 2006 Suzuki 1000. This bike is perfect! It has 1000 miles and has had its 500 mile dealer service. (Expensive) It's been adult ridden, all wheels have always been on the ground. I use it as a cruiser/commuter. I'm selling it because it was purchased without proper consent of a loving wife. Apparently "do whatever the f*** you want" doesn't mean what I thought. Call me, Steve. (801)867-8292

Now, other people have thought this was an urban myth, too. It has been widely reported. Many people have suggested selling the wife and keeping the bike - that's a bit of a misognistic cliche, though, isn't it?


One reporter went so far as to dial the number. Steve's recorded message said, "I've sold the Suzuki. Don't leave any more messages!" He sounded desperate.
Sex change between lunch and tea-time!

We're going to Spain for our summer holidays, and SuperSpouse decided it was time to book the flights. I got back from Cello-Boy's lunchtime recital yesterday, to find the print-outs of all our travel arrrangements lying neatly on our bed.

I blinked. Hard. There we all were - Mr Super Spouse, Mr Pseudo SuperMum, and three Super Boys. Funny ... I could have sworn he knew I was female!

Fearing we'd have to pay EasyJet vast sums of money to correct the mistakes, I phoned the number that I found on the website. That was the 65p a minute line. The recorded message gave another number for general customer enquiries, so I tried that one next - only 10p a minute.

The woman customer adviser laughed. "What WAS he thinking of?!"

"Probably congratulating himself on being a clever boy and getting the flights all sorted?", I suggested. It had been quite complicated, getting all the flights coordinated, so he was entitled to be pleased with himself.

As a courtesy, that dear lady changed my sex back from male to female, free of charge! It was quite a relief, I can tell you. And I didn't feel a thing!