Saturday, 26 March 2011

White Horse Hill

A scenic 30 minute drive from Oxford and we arrived at the famous White Horse Hill.


Overflowing with child-like excitement, AC insisted our first stop be Uffington Castle; an iron age hillfort that sits on top of White Horse Hill, which also marks the highest point in Oxfordshire. Once I had given the children the health and safety talk (due to some seriously steep slopes) I cautiously allowed them out of the car so our walk could begin.

It wasn't as treacherous as I thought it was going to be. Shemily remained confined to the Baby Carrier. Missy pranced up the hillside like the fairy she thinks she is, gracefully dodging the copious amounts of sheep poo as she flew. Although quite capable of such a challenge The A-Bomb was still in recovery from his poorly spell and insisted on a carry. He's heavier than he looks so instead of prancing up the hill I plodded. But it was well worth it - the views were glorious.

The end of an exhausting plod

Walking in the moat

Next stop should have been the White Horse but the kids lost interest once they found out there was a Dragon Hill. This was fine by me - there was sure to be a greater chance of survival if they fell off Dragon Hill than The White Horse.

Dragon Hill
Located on the lower slopes of White Horse Hill

Legend has it that this is the site where St. George killed the dragon. The blood that gushed from the dying dragon was so poisonous that it has prevented grass from growing on the spot ever since.

"But Mum, I really wanted to see a dead dragon"

Slightly disappointed that the dragon's corpse was nowhere to be found we turned back. Although unwilling to climb the hill The A-Bomb was more than happy to fling himself down it. We made it back to the car in double quick time.

Friday, 18 March 2011

The Octonauts go Viral

A few weeks ago Missy started developing a spotty rash. It wasn't because I hadn't been washing her or that I'd been feeding her peanuts; she had chicken pox.
Kids are always getting strange and unusual rashes so it was with a degree of skepticism that we kept her and The A-Bomb home from nursery, after all it wouldn't have been the first time I'd made a misdiagnosis.

Missy did have chicken pox and returned to nursery the following week. But the wait for the others' spots to appear dragged on. When they eventually arrived it was with celebration– at least now we knew they really were the contagious disease carriers that we'd been treating them like.

The A-Bomb was especially pleased to be able to follow in the ways of his sister. The boy who makes everything into a competition wasn't about to make chicken pox the exception.

"I won"
(Actual Quote)

It turns out there's more to chicken pox than a few spots (unless your Missy). The poor chap had a sore tummy, threw up, and stopped eating for a couple of days. Thankfully his cheeks were substantial enough to sustain him through this hard time.

Tuesday, 8 March 2011

New Moon

It was 8 years ago in the Metro Centre’s Woolworths that I first laid eyes on AC and thought what a fox he was. And what a testament to my observational skills that initial observation was.

Whilst AC and I were courting it became apparent that although not a fox, his origins were indeed canine. He displayed many wolf like qualities; a rugged frame, immense strength, unstoppable speed, acute hearing, ravenous appetite and oh so intelligent eyes.

So I wasn't as surprised as you might think (though still quite a bit nauseous) when he revealed this litttle suprise...

The Claw

With it's own blood supply his claw has a rate of growth which exceeds that of his regular toe nails. When it reaches a certain length he sheds it to reveal a new one underneath.

Despite this little quirk I still gave AC my hand in marriage. Then one bright summers day the dark clouds gathered overhead our happily ever after. I was aghast to find that Missy was developing a thickened nail on her left little toe.

In training - Missy practicing her wolf gnarl

More shocking still was the thought that this genetic mutation was being propagated through my offspring. The quirk that I had been ignoring in my husband had reared it's face in my child.