So its nearly damn Halloween folks! And do you know what that means? Only 8 fricken weekends till bloody Christmas. You don’t have to check. A Christmas-nut friend (we all have one) posted it on FB. I read the post and got both smiley happy and heart palpitations at the same time. Fuck. I have done nothing about Christmas yet – well, bar ordering shit I don’t even know if my children will like from a store in NZ to help fund my sister’s daughter’s kindergarten….
My sister is sending it over and I will then re-assess the situation and decide if Ryu or hub would be better suited to the flat drumming sound kit. . .
Today was my first of SEVEN Halloween parties I am obliged to single handedly hold for my English students over the next week. Well, I don’t have to do it. I do it out of love and the fact that I’m an over-achiever and like to make people happy. Last year I turned a single room in our house into a Halloween-inspired room. This year I have an office about three times the size. Not wanting to disappoint the kids I told them all how fuckin fabulous I’d make it for Halloween.
And so I did.
But it took me two days, a roll of industrial farmers black plastic sheet (about 100m long), 200 drawing pins (push pins) and approximately 4 bottles of wine, although this could be up for debate.
But meh, the room looks bloody fabulous and the first party today was a success. I even got a few screams when the girls entered the black room, with a lit-up pumpkin, scary music and a teacher waiting in the shadows to run out and scream at them looking like this ….
The class today was 11 year olds. Tomorrow I have three classes, the first of which is 6-year olds, so I guess I’ll be an age appropriate witch!!!
But back to the pumpkin. I got it for a bargain $5 in the town three towns over. Big pumpkins are extremely rare in this neck of the woods so finding one was super exciting – despite the stupid bitch of a vestling women who kept commenting on how wonderful Marina’s Japanese was and how I MUST ask a male-staff worker to lift the pumpkin for me. Fuck, she went on for ever, so much so that her vestling friends started giving me sympathy looks.
I jack-o-lanterned it on Saturday. Spent two hours cutting and scooping and gradually losing feeling in my right arm. At one point I questioned whether I was actually left-handed, as my left arm was completely winning at the scooping shit (after an hour). When I bought it the pumpkin had a handwritten note on it saying ‘not for eating – only for decoration’ – so I threw the sweet smelling flesh and seeds into the vacant rice paddie next door. Much to Granny K’s dismay. No doubt the wild pigs would come stampeding through her neglected veggie patch in search of the sweet smelling honey of nectar pumpkin flesh. . .
But it was an argument on the way to the eye doctor that we didn’t need to have!! Especially as I am just the driver ferrying her around everywhere. Seriously woman, don’t pick a fight with your free taxi.
AND, Marina turns 9 tomorrow!! Has anyone been reading this since she was a baby? Wow. How time flies.
She has been turning the house up-side-down looking for her presents . . .
Which are right beside me in a box underneath a case of unopened Slimfast!
Hmmmm, Maybe I’ll put a bottle under my pillow tonight and hope that shit works via osmosis ( ?) I want to write this word but I’m not sure. Mum used to tell us to put our school books under our pillow the night before an exam – so that the information might filter into our brains through ?? osmosis?? Is there another word I’m thinking of? Hmmm.
No harm in trying I guess.
Nighty night campers,