Analytical Mind

My analytical mind wanted to solve the mystery of my unpredictable blog traffic. I may have just found a causal relationship between the number of posts I write and the traffic I experience in any given month.

I have realised that the number of posts per month is nearly directly related to higher traffic, ie the most posts, the more traffic. This doesn't make any sense to me.

I check out my blog roll (blogs I read) on a daily basis. So if there is more than 1 post on any given day I read them all on the one time I visit that day. I rarely, if ever, check a blog more than once/day.

There are only 2 blogs that I take an RSS feed from straight into my email box (soon to be just 1). Everything else goes into my pageflake. My pageflake takes forever to build so I only load it once and once I've caught up I shut it down.

So if I post more than once/day do you come back to read? If so, how do you know I posted more than once? How many of you subscribe to my blog using the RSS feed? How many of you don't know what an RSS feed is?

The Vikings

Sitting round the dinner table tonight we were asking the children what they learned at school.

Abigail was very pleased with her swimming lessons which started after half term. She thinks she could swim the English Channel given the opportunity. We don't disagree.

Sebastian announced he is learning about the Vikings. Marc asked him what has he learned. Sebastian proceeded to list off an amazing litany of Viking trivia. After 20 minutes of Viking facts we decided we had heard enough.

I wonder if that is just what he learned today or if that is what he has learned over several weeks. Either way it is an extraordinary achievement.

If he learned it all today, I can't believe he remembered it all.

if he learned it all over the last couple weeks, I can't believe he remembered it all.

I can't remember to take my mobile phone with me when I leave the house or pick up my children after school. And yet he can remember that the Vikings burned their ships.

How does he do that?

Sleeplessness

I don't sleep much to begin with so when I miss a night's snoozing I get extra grumpy.

Friday I went into the office expecting some colleagues to have sent me 2 pieces of finished work. One I never received and I couldn't reach him on the phone. The other sent me something but it wasn't what I wanted. Both items were needed for a meeting I have tomorrow.

Last night I sat up most of the night tossing and turning agonising over these 2 missing/inaccurate items. I would read to take my mind off of it and as soon as I got sleepy I would turn out the light and lay my head down. within 5 minutes I had to turn the lights back on and return to my reading because my head started spinning with all the things I needed to do on Monday morning.

I hate that!

This morning I was up at 5 am and out the door by 6:30. I was in the office before 7 am. I spoke to both colleagues this morning before 8:30 and we had completed both items by midday. I had absolutely no reason to stress out last night. But I didn't know that then.

I'll sleep like a log tonight. I hope.

Black Hole

Sorry, readers, for the lack of posting over the last couple days. I've been trapped in a black hole of business. I haven't checked email, Facebook or the blog!

I landed Thursday evening about 30 minutes later than scheduled. I was thrilled to breeze through immigration but horrified to discover that the baggage hall looked like a mob scene. A flight had just arrived from Tel Aviv so armed police were everywhere. There were numerous other European flights arriving as the last flights for the evening were descending on the airport.
One of the baggage carousels was not working properly so none of the carousels were working properly. This makes no sense to me but Heathrow makes no sense to me. The airport looks like it belongs to a third world country and is falling apart. This is supposed to be the busiest airport in the world. To me it looks like the shabbiest.

Once I got my luggage (over an hour wait), I had to ring for the taxi to come back to the airport. They were not happy.

I arrived home just before midnight. I unpacked a much as I could and dropped like a rock into bed.

Up early at 6 am and into the office for an action packed day of trying to get through email and answer all the questions people needed me to answer earlier in the week. I felt like everyone wanted a piece of me.

I raced home at 3 pm to meet up with Marc and Abigail where we packed our suitcases again and picked up Seb for school. We then joined all the other crazy people trying to get home for Friday evening. We groaned when the sat nav informed us that we would not reach our destination for 4.5 hours. By avoiding the motorway we saved 2 hours and arrived at the Millichamp home by 6:30 pm a good hour longer than originally planned.

The children were starving so I was pumping them full of cookies during the drive which of course meant they didn't eat a bite when dinner was finally served up. After some heavy duty playing the children were ready for bed, well, at least Sebastian was ready for bed.

He put himself to bed. Sam followed shortly thereafter. But the girls stayed up giggling and jumping in and out of bed. The babysitter arrived and we left for the local pub.

We had some fabulous steaks and wine at the most unexpected little hole in the wall pub in the local village of West Haddon. When we returned home the babysitter admitted that after a couple of hours she had to separate the girls and Abigail was sound asleep in our bed.

Helen and I stayed up until almost 2 in the morning having a girly chat. I do wonder where our daughters get it from!

The children helped themselves to the TV and dry breakfast cereal the next morning allowing the grownups to stay in bed until almost 9 am. Sheer bliss! It was great to see Abigail and Lottie have formed such a lovely friendship. Sam and Seb didn't have many arguments and seem to have started to out grow the power struggles of young boys.

The Daddy's took the children to a park and Helen whipped up a gorgeous minestrone soup. When the Dad's returned we had some lunch and planned our summer holidays.

The drive home was uneventful and we fell into bed after unloading the car. Today I am faced with loads of luggage needing unpacking and mountain ranges of laundry. I want to go back to bed!

Cannes Photo Album

Elvis Appreciation Day

I have a new found admiration/obsession with Elvis. Yes, I know he is dead but you would have thought differently if you had been out with me last night.

The Gartner IT Symposium always throws a big bash on the last night of the conference. The theme for last night's free food/booze bonanza was Groove Generation. They took over the Carlton InterContinental on La Croisette in Cannes. Every room and some temporarily constructed rooms were decorated with a different theme. The details included serving food and drinks typical of that era. And there were loads of celebrity singer/performer look alikes.

There was the 70s room with a disco ball and Barry White performing. OK, he didn't look or sound at all like Barry White. And disco music provided a prime opportunity for IT professionals to prove they can't dance either.

In the 90s room was a Kylie Minogue look alike but she never sang. This had the worst food. It seems we all just ate raw vegetables that decade.

Sir Paul McCartney look alike in the 60s room nor the Sir Elton John look alike (who wondered through all the rooms) did not perform but they were chatting with all the guests and I think there a photos of me and Sir Elton talking about his home up the road from mine!

We couldn't quite figure out what was going on in the 00s room. It was very quiet and the food consisted of sandwiches. What will history say about that era?

The best room by far was the 50s room. I know I wasn't born then. But I have always loved the music. They had candy floss (cotton candy) and milkshakes and popcorn. But the best thing about the room was the Elvis impersonator who sang, danced, moved and smiled just like Elvis. This man had the hips aswaying, the lip aquivering and the hair aflipping. He even sweat like Elvis.

I've got some photos and when I get back from my mobile connection here in Cannes I will upload them and you can make your own judgement.

My colleague, Jane*, and I swooned and screamed on queue. I felt like I wanted a poodle skirt and a pony tail.

Considering there weren't many females appreciating this man's talents, he really played up to us and I swear he sang Teddy Bear directly to me. My colleagues had to keep reminding me that the real Elvis was dead.

We missed his second act due the particularly addictive tunes in the 80s room which pretty much played the soundtrack of my life. Archie** amazed me when he proved he is almost as good with lyrics as I am! Elvis was disappointed when we saw him later and he told us we had missed him. Not nearly as disappointed as I was. And then I realised he was English and whilst he could do a wicked Nashville accent he was really from London. Disillusion sets in!

Back home tonight on the last flight out of Cannes to Heathrow. Can hardly wait to kiss my children in their beds as they sleep. Oh, and cuddle up to my husband! Maybe we can listen to Elvis. I want to learn how to jitterbug!

* Once again, as requested, names have been changed to protect the guilty. These people just don't live on the edge and out in the open. But I'll respect that!
** If only you knew his real name....

IT Professionals

I look around this conference which has roughly 6,000 attendees I reckon. And I'll tell you what I see:

• IT professionals are male. 90% of the session attendees are men. I've been doing a rough count of the female to male ratio when I enter session. Could be the women are elsewhere but I don't see them at lunch either. This is the only place where the queue is for the gents toilet and not the ladies.
• IT professionals are old. 85% appear to be over the age of 45 years. Grey and/or balding heads dominate the landscape. This flies in the face of everything I have been reading from US publications....
• IT professionals have bad dress sense, no individual style little outwardly apparent creativity or individuality. Dull blue suits, red ties, grey shirts that probably used to be white appears to be the dress code. I missed that memo.
• IT professionals have no sense of humour. Gartner presenters are for the most part some of the most talented and knowledgeable public speakers I have ever seen. And they are funny. They seamlessly weave humour into their presentations. None of the session attendees laugh. that means they have all either gone to sleep or don't get it. Both are equally possible.
• IT professionals lack some fairly basic social skills. A colleague of mine and I have sat at lunch tables with IT professionals from other organisations and whilst we attempted to engage with them, they failed to return the favour. With a notable exception last night when a helpful Gartner consultant (Thanks, Shannon!), I have failed to network with any interesting individuals. Could be my failure. I doubt it.
  

I feel sooooooo alone!

WARNING: This is not a scientific poll. And I am in Europe where I think the demographics for the industry are skewed from the rest of the world for reasons I cannot even bear to entertain.

Laugh til you Cry

I have found that the best stress relief is laughter. Not polite giggles. Not the mild haha chuckle you hear when they just don't get it. I mean laughing so hard tears are running down your face, snot is blowing out of your nose, your face turns red, and your belly begins to ache when you are doubled over.

You can keep your meditation. You can keep your kickboxing. You can keep your chanting.

I find that having a proper laugh can relieve all my stress.

Last week, I was in a meeting with the managers who work for me. Some of them attended the meeting via teleconference. The meeting ended and I needed to speak to a couple of colleagues about one of the subjects discussed.

Helen* grabbed Kate and we reconvened in the conference room. We were all women in the room and Helen asked if we had seen a programme on television the night before about how to "spice" up your marriage. We started chatting about the content of the programme. Then we heard a voice over the speaker phone from one of my male managers asking us if we needed them to stay on the line for this.

WE nearly died. We disconnected the teleconference immediately and burst into laughter so hard we all had mascara running down our faces from our tears. We still can't look each other in the eye without bursting into fits of giggles.

Last night, the group of colleagues at the conference sat down at a bar on the beach after dinner. Deb** recalled a story about a trip to Belfast for Christmas with her husband and small children that was a mere catalog of catastrophes. She was laughing so hard she struggled to speak. Everyone around the table could relate to the story and was laughing as hard if not harder than she was. Deb is very professional in the office and it was nice to see this side of her. It strengthened our working relationship and relieved some of the stress that comes with travelling with work colleagues.

Today, I am missing home. I miss my children. I miss my husband. But having a laugh last night made it a wee bit easier.

* Names have been changed to protect the identity of the jokers!
** Not her real name either!

Bon Jour

Am posting from France. Hate to say this but we are having a great time. The weather is beautiful. Even the food is great although it is buffet style.... Hotel room has view of sea!

Had quite a long day yesterday that started at 4 am and didn't end until after midnight.

Have colleagues standing behind me waiting for me so we can all go out for a drink and a bite or several of both.

Hope to find a bit more time to write. In the mean time visit my sister's blog and make her write something!

Cannes, France

I am off this morning (silly hour of 5 am) to catch a flight to Cannes, France. I know that might sound glamorous to some but it is for work. Oh, who am I kidding? I have been to lots of places for work conferences and I have to say this is probably one of the best places I go!

Every year, Gartner puts on an IT Symposium in Cannes, France. It's really the only investment (time & money) that I put into formal professional development. And it is actually my company's time & money although spending the night away from my children is a hardship.

OK, who am I kidding? It's nice to have a break!

Last year was the first year I had ever been. The project I had been working on had just been implemented and was wildly successful. It had been wildly stressful and all my holiday had been postponed. Once we were over the hump my boss knew I needed a break. So he gave me his ticket and sent me.

I didn't know what to expect and only knew one of the other employees of my company who was also going. And I didn't know him very well.

I got there on Sunday afternoon. The flight was a bit scary, not just for me but for the passenger sitting next to me. You see, I'm afraid to fly. I know how insane that sounds since I've been flying my entire adult life but I am. During the peak of my travelling days, the company I worked for sent me on a course to conquer the fear. I wouldn't say it conquered it but it did teach me how to cope with it.

But I don't fly as much as I did back then and for the last 8 years I've usually flown with my husband. This was my first trip on an airplane in 6 years without my husband. He usually sits next to me and wordlessly holds my hand as my fingernails dig into his hand and helps me count and breath - 2 coping mechanisms I learned in those classes. I panicked when I realised he wasn't next to me. By the time we got off the ground I needed a drink. So did the woman next to me. And first aid - her, not me.

Landing wasn't much better especially when I looked out the window and realised there was only water below me. I didn't know the Nice airport was out of over the water. Oh my god, I thought I was going to faint which is probably what my fellow passengers were hoping as the tears started to flow down my cheeks and I was hyperventilating. I couldn't get off that plane fast enough.

I was surprised at how beautiful the weather was. Of course it would be. I was thousands of miles south of grey, rainy England.

A bus took me from Nice to Cannes and dropped me off at my hotel which unfortunately was quite a ways from the conference centre. I got settled in and called home. Marc just giggled at the flying story.

I made my way to the conference centre to register and was handed the programme for the event. It was huge. I sat down and started going through the sessions on offer. It took me a good couple hours over lunch to do this and it didn't remotely resemble the agenda I had set for myself before leaving.

Sessions started that afternoon. Everyday, the first session of the morning was at 7:30 am and the last session of the evening started at 6:30 pm. They even had sessions over lunch. and the titles of them were so enticing. I wanted to see everything.

Then they had events nearly every night. One night one of my suppliers flew me by helicopter to Monaco for dinner and some gambling at the Casino Royal. I refer you back to my fear of flying above. I had confessed my fears to a colleague who had agreed to fly with me and lend me his arm, literally. But at the last minute a change in helicopter assignment meant I was on my own with complete strangers. In a professional capacity. As the helicopter took off I went pale as the blood drained from my face. I didn't say a word. The supplier still laughs at me.

Dinner was great and I played black jack at the casino. I went up 375 but then lost it all including my initial investment. Dang! I had vision of retiring.

We took a coach back to Cannes which whilst much longer than the helicopter ride was indeed far less frightening.

Another evening saw us entertained at one of the best restaurants in the Old Town of Cannes. The restaurant was packed and we had a great evening of laughter and wine consumption which didn't bode well for the early morning starts.

The last evening was a Cinema themed evening at the best hotel in Cannes. Every room in the hotel was decorated in a different movie theme. They had famous movie start look alikes wondering about. The best was the Keanu Reeves look a like who took to following me around the event.

My colleagues and I had been playing a swag game - that is whoever gets the best handouts from suppliers wins. I had done abysmally to date. On the last day one of the suppliers had given me VIP tickets to that evening's event. We weren't sure what it meant until we turned up.

We had tickets to a closed off area with the best food ever and free drinks all night. I definitely won the swag competition and got loads of street cred with my colleagues!

Quite a few more colleagues of mine are coming this year. I know them better than the ones from last year and I am sure we will have a great time. Please excuse me if I don't get a lot of blogging done although Gartner does a very good job of making sure that everyone is connected and even provides computers to do so.

Bon Voyage!

Girly Afternoon

Yesterday Abigail and I had so much fun!

The childminder had to see a doctor about her bum knee so I picked up Abigail and kept her all afternoon. We popped into Windsor to buy some birthday presents for some upcoming friends' parties.

Abigail was so much fun. She lifted clothes off the rack and presented them to me asking "How about this?", "This is cute." "Ooooh, I like this."

Then we decided to get lunch. We went to Agora's. There was only one other table with an older couple seated.

Abigail sat down like a big girl and ordered her own drink. She looked at the menu just like I was doing and announced after a suitable interval that she wanted a hamburger. She told the waitress herself when she came to take our order.

Whilst we waited for our food, Abigail told me about her day. We played patty cake. then a god song came on the muzak and she said she wanted to dance. So we got up and danced.

Our food came and we sat down. She chatted about everything under the sun as she nibbled away at her chips (french fries) and hamburger.

It was like being out with one of my friends. She's funny and interesting. She asks lots of questions and is interested in what I have to say. She's got loads of opinions and lots to say. She makes a great companion.

I paid for lunch and we returned to our car. She told the neighbours about her day with mummy and without daddy and Sebby. She said she had fun and wanted to do it again.

Me too!

School Bags

We are back to school again and I have decided that school bags are the bane of my existence.

Sebastian has a school bag for his judo kit, a school bag for his swimming kit, a school bag for his games kit, a school bag for his gym kit. He has to remember to bring his spelling and pianos in his book bag on Fridays. Plus he's got to remember his hat, his cap and his blazer.

The school encourages us as parents to let the child to the remembering themselves. I can barely remember my mobile phone when I walk out of the house in the mornings but I was wiling to give it a go.

First, some mothers recommended we send all the bags in on Monday and bring them all back home on Friday. Watching Sebastian try to carry all that was an exercise in the ridiculous. Besides, it made the laundry pile for the weekend nearly insurmountable. And I had to do all the laundry over the weekend to have all the bags ready again on Monday morning. Not going to happen in our house!

So I made up a little chart of what needs to go and when. This works most mornings.

Then the school encouraged us to let the children pack the bags themselves.

That's all a bit much and pushed me over the edge. My husband and I have trouble remembering that black shorts are required for ballet and red socks are required for games. Now I find myself making up charts for the contents of each bag.

My refrigerator is covered with charts of what happens when and what we need. My head is going to explode.

Thank goodness for big refrigerators!

Worst That Can Happen

Editor's Note: The original video I posted has been deleted from YouTube. This is the second version from the same guy talking about the same thing....only better.

Beaver Scouts

The other night was Sebastian's first Beaver Scout meeting. Sort of.

It was a Halloween party so everyone was supposed to come in costume. the problem is he doesn't know any of these boys. They don't go to his school. And meeting people for the first time is hard enough. It is even harder when they are dressed up in costumes.

I went with a plan to stay with him throughout the evening just to make sure he would be ok. He was very brave and told me before we got there that I didn't have to stay.

Once we arrived his story changed. I imagine that in his mind, making new friends isn't all that difficult. You find out each other's names and then you just start talking.

I also imagine that the reality of just how extremely difficult it is to connect with people, even children, set in once he walked into the room of complete strangers. As an adult I find making new friends extremely difficult. Adults have agendas. Adults lie. Adults have secrets. Adults don't make good friends.

Sebastian clung to my leg and I started to feel myself clinging to him as I feared for his self confidence. But I knew I had to let him go. More than that, this mother bird knew she had to give him a good firm push out of the nest.

Our ray of hope arrived when a boy who lives not far from us turned up. They play well together although they are not the best of friends but at least he knew someone. I took this as my opportunity to cut and run.

I said goodbye to Seb and told him he would have fun. He looked a bit dubious but trusted me enough to say ok.

When I returned an hour later, he ran up to me and told me that the time had gone really fast. He was excited to tell me everything they had done. He couldn't remember anyone's name and I doubt he was able to make any friends but he is willing to give it another go next week.

Stay tuned!

TO MY CHILD

Just for this morning, I am going to smile when I see your face and laugh when I feel like crying.

Just for this morning, I will let you choose what you want to wear, and smile and say how perfect it is.

Just for this morning, I am going to step over the laundry and pick you up and take you to the park to play. Just for this morning, I will leave the dishes in the sink, and let you teach me how to put that puzzle of yours together.

Just for this afternoon, I will unplug the telephone and keep the computer off, and sit with you in the backyard and blow bubbles.

Just for this afternoon, I will not yell once, not even a tiny grumble when you scream and whine for the ice cream truck, and I will buy you one if he comes by.

Just for this afternoon, I won't worry about what you are going to be when you grow up, or second guess every decision I have made where you are concerned.

Just for this afternoon, I will let you help me bake cookies, and I won't stand over you trying to fix them.

Just for this afternoon, I will take us to McDonald's and buy us both a Happy Meal so you can have both toys.

Just for this evening, I will hold you in my arms and tell you a story about how you were born and how much I love you.

Just for this evening, I will let you splash in the tub and not get angry.

Just for this evening, I will let you stay up late while we sit on the porch and count all the stars.

Just for this evening, I will snuggle beside you for hours, and miss my favourite TV shows.

Just for this evening when I run my finger through your hair as you pray, I will simply be
grateful that God has given me the greatest gift ever given. I will think about the mothers and fathers who are searching for their missing children, the mothers and fathers who are visiting their children's graves instead of their bedrooms. The mothers and fathers who are in hospital rooms watching their children suffer senselessly and screaming inside that little body

And when I kiss you goodnight I will hold you a little tighter, a little longer. It is then, that I will thank God for you, and ask him for nothing, except one more day.............

Editors Note: I do not know who wrote this. It was forwarded to me my a school mum - thanks, Nadia!

October Traffic

October saw my traffic go up from last month. Phew!

I reached once again the heady heights of June and July and managed to go over the 1,000 mark for the third time in the blog's history.

I'm still having a great time writing. It has changed the way I look at my life. It has changed the way I look at me.

Thanks for reading.

Happy Halloween

Meal Planning Obsession

As a mother, I think meal planning is one of the hardest things we do. Not hard in requires PhD brain power hard but hard as in tedious, requires limitless creativity and budget considerations as well as ensuring you serve something everyone will like and won't be too fiddly to make after a hard day at the office. This is not easy. My husband hates fish and eggs. My children struggle with many vegetables although carrots, green beans, broccoli and tomatoes are fast favourites.

Many of my cookbooks hark from the other side of the Atlantic (USA) and I sometimes struggle to find the required ingredients. I've been known to travel from supermarket to supermarket and come home with half the ingredients for 5 days worth of meals but not all the ingredients to make anything. Mostly, I've given up on any cookbook that doesn't hark from the UK - with the exception of the Carson Family Cookbook.

Family Fun is one of my favourite websites. I go there for inspiration and help all the time. I found this menu planner on their website and thought what a great idea! Not all the recipes look that easy and some don't look all that healthy but for the most part I think I'll give this a go!

Otherwise, I'm going to create my own blog with family recipes along the lines of Nelli's Redneck Restaurant which is inspiring me and my family is loving the results.

Chicken

Why is chicken called chicken even when we put it on our table?

Cow is called beef. Pig is called pork. Sheep is called uh....lamb, sort of!

I am a firm believer in children understanding where food comes from. We love to grow vegetables in the garden so they can dig up their own potatoes and pick their own tomatoes after they've watched them ripen on the vine.

But I've always struggled with explaining the whole "we eat animals" conversation. To my children, animals are pets.

Mostly I've gotten away with it due to the aforementioned naming conventions. OK, Seb is old enough now he's caught on to the game but plays along to humour me. Abigail, however, has remained blissfully unaware and that's the way I want to keep it for as long as possible.

Yesterday, the rug got pulled out from under me.

Marc roasted a chicken for dinner. It was beautiful. I put it on the table to rest before carving and when Abigail asked me what it was I told her it was a chicken.

She was horrified. She wanted to know where the feathers had gone. And where had the head gone? This looked all a bit too much like a chicken and too little like a chicken. She lost her appetite and wouldn't touch a bite. Of anything.

Now I'm not sure if I should rain on her parade and tell her about her beloved McNuggets. Thoughts?

Bio Diesel

My husband actually completed his first batch of bio diesel yesterday. And this morning he put a bit in his car.

He has been making the kit for doing this for ages. If you don't believe me go check out his blog.

My sister starting harassing him the other day wanting to know when he was actually going to put it all to work and actually make a batch. My husband confessed that he was a wee bit frightened of actually doing it. He conquered his fear and got busy.

We've had a wee bit of trouble from our neighbours. They were concerned about the safety aspects. So was I when he was doing it in the kitchen. But now we know a whole bunch more and when they saw us filling up Marc's car they did indicate they were interested in having some.

Hopefully over the next few days (if Marc's car doesn't explode), we'll start filling up my car as well.

The best part is I never have to go to a petrol (gas) station again. I never have to pay tax on my petrol purchases ever again. And we will save over £100/month!

Well Done, Marc! You are my hero......