Legal Highs

How about a nice mug of cocoa?

So-called 'Legal Highs' have been in the news a lot recently, with deaths associated with taking these substances soaring. I have to confess to being very boring/sensible, depending on your perspective, when it comes to drugs, and little has passed my lips other than the odd Marlborough Light in my teens/twenties and rather more than the odd glass of Chardonnay in my thirties/forties.

As a teacher, pupils often ask if you've ever done drugs, and I am rather relieved to be able to answer honestly that I haven't. They do know about my Haribo habit though! I remember one girl commenting how young I looked for my age - it was my 40th birthday and I'd taken some cake in for my favourite group of delinquents. Another pupil butted in "Yeah, that's because all she does at the weekend is stay at home and drink water". Sad, but oh so very true!

The whole Legal High thing got me thinking about what I have in my life to give me a much needed lift from time to time. I know I am opening myself up to derision from those younger than me, but I may raise a wry smile of recognition in some of my middle-aged readers out there?

1. Getting into bed with freshly laundered sheets and pillow cases, with a cup of tea and a good book, especially if you know you haven't got to get up early the next day.

2. Watching the hedgehogs in the garden on a summer evening - glass of wine optional (or in my case obligatory)

3. Snuggling up with a sleeping baby - preferably someone else's so you can hand it back when it wakes up.

4. Looking back at old photos and laughing at how awful you looked in 70s/80s fashions.

5. Having a good sing. Usually Thine be the Glory! For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about see http://normalfornnorfolk.blogspot.co.uk/2013/07/thine-be-glory.html

6. Watching The Inbetweeners and laughing until you cry.

7. Learning to be content with what you have. I'm still working on this but the very old system of 'counting your blessings' works oh so well.

8. Listening to an amazing piece of music on your own in the dark.

9. Looking at the moon. (I said looking, not howling)

10. Being kind to someone you really don't like much. If nothing else it will make them paranoid!

I'm sure these will not be everyone's cup of tea but I hope you've found one or two you can identify with. Do leave your own comments below if you'd like to share your own Legal Highs.

Happy Birthday Ronnie!

I have just found myself singing Happy Birthday to our cat Ronnie who is a year old today. This was at Bryn's insistence, you understand, and not something I would have freely engaged in otherwise.

Ronnie as a cute kitten

So, what has our little feline friend managed to accomplish in his first year of life? Here are a few of the highlights for you.

• He is pretty good at playing the piano and is often heard tinkling on the ivories late at night. Whilst this can be disconcerting it is not as alarming as his sister Coco who has learnt to turn the TV on and is apparently partial to a bit of late night viewing.

• He has managed to clock up 8 visits to the vet's including two anaesthetics, an operation, an endoscopy, several shots of steroids and two courses of antibiotics. Sounds like a normal night out in North Walsham to me.

• He has eaten approximately 30 kg of dried food and 600 pouches of meat but still prefers to chomp on rotting sparrow entrails and flies or to steal leftovers from the hedgehog.

• He is very helpful when it comes to wrapping presents, as I found out at Christmas. Even though it is August we are also still finding stray baubles which he knocked off the tree and rolled under sofas or behind furniture. They are currently sitting on the mantelpiece and will probably stay there until we decorate again in December.

• His best trick to date was jumping in a bowl of pea and ham soup and then proceeding to re-decorate the lounge with it.

• He is a handsome, affectionate, funny little chap and I hope he will be with us for many years to come just with fewer visits to the vet's.

Having Workmen In

I mentioned the other day that we are currently having our bathroom done. Apart from small things like having a new carpet laid or getting the fence fixed this is the first time I have had lots of workmen in over a longish period of time. At last count we had had five different tradesmen here, all fantastic at their jobs and really pleasant to have around. I was a little disappointed though, that none of them has any form of sweetener in their hot drinks. There is very little comic mileage in "I'll 'ave a cup of Earl Grey love, no sugar".
I have also been pleasantly surprised at how little mess there is though it has been very noisy. Ronnie the cat has pretty much been living in the garden the past week, coming into the house only to grab a mouthful of food and take a quick glance at what the strange men are doing to his home. Rocket the hedgehog is also looking a bit shaky and is quite possibly now deaf as well as blind, bless him.
...and so, we are enjoying a quiet, workman free weekend. No drilling, no hammering and above all no having to listen to the tiler singing along with great enthusiasm but little musical skill to Kiss FM.

Stupid things you say.

I am fed up with our 'pet' hedgehog Rocket making a massive mess in his cage by overturning his food and drink bowls. Earlier today I was in the supermarket with Bryn when I saw a great pet bowl which was quite inexpensive yet fairly heavy, meaning that my prickly friend would find it harder to trash the joint. The bowl was clearly designed with a feline theme and Bryn said "You can't get that for Rocket, it's meant for a cat."
"It's ok", I replied, "He won't know, he's blind."
Mmm, yes; if he could see then it might offend his sensitivities, being a hedgehog and all that, but as it is, we're OK!

Rocket the Hedgehog

I have just been cleaning out and feeding our rescue hedgehog Rocket, who lives in a big cage in the hall. This is a horrible job as he makes the most awful mess and I find myself scooping up a heady combination of food, water, poo and soggy newspaper. Rocket is definitely a teenage boy. He eats masses, grunts in reply to any attempt at conversation or physical contact and spends many hours in his bedroom making dubious noises and an unspeakable mess. A good friend recently commented that this was all good training for when Bryn reaches adolescence. I pointed out that I very much hoped that Bryn, at least, would not crap on his bedroom floor. Who knows?!
Rocket is a fairly intelligent little man, and I am currently teaching him to do his business either on George Osborne or Michael Gove. All copies of The Telegraph gratefully received; these may be used for training purposes.