Rambles from World's End

I had made a comment on my “Facebook” page about the Mauritian, saying something along the lines of his “compulsion” for perfection was bordering on “obsessive.” This sparked a “conversation” between me, my Angel and my new friend about “OCD.” I have always wondered at the Mauritian’s insistence that anything he cooks or builds must be absolutely perfect and the smallest, unnoticeable mistake will infuriate and annoy him to a point where he will not enjoy the food or whatever it is he has done. I think he goes a little overboard and when he rants and raves I just roll my eyes, mutter under my breath and walk away from him. I like how his food tastes I don’t care what it looks like and the woodwork or drawings he has done look brilliant as far as I’m concerned, he disagrees a lot of the time. My Angel and my new friend between them seem to have a rather long list of compulsions. According to them, there is only one way the toilet roll should go on to the dispenser. Towels, sheets and

The Butterfly’s third birthday has come and gone in a whirl of wrapping paper, balloons and smiles. Again the Mauritian and I were faced with the problem of what not to buy for her birthday. We were very proud of the fact that we only walked out the shop with two books, a cordless microphone, a small tub of “Play Dough” and of course the next addition to her collection of “In the Night Garden” toys. It seems almost unreal now that only three years ago, after a sleepless night the Mauritian and I were heading off to the hospital to finally welcome our daughter into this crazy messed up world. But three years ago it was that this stubborn, bright and beautiful bundle came into my life screaming, red faced and indignant. For the past three and a bit years now she has done or said something every day that has had some sort of effect on me. For the past three and a bit years I have been floating on a bubble of pride about this little miracle, who is a part of me. Every day I look at her

One of the blogs I follow is written by the enchanting wife of one of my many charming cousins, I enjoy reading them because they are so real and it does in some way keep me connected to a small part of my family. This morning as usual I followed my normal daily routine rounded off with a quick blog update. Her blog this morning spoke of those rare moments between a husband and wife when one simple comment from him makes her speechless with indecision. Should she laugh, scream or cry? Should she hit him or hug him? For just that split second of silence the world holds its breath waiting for the wife to realise that there was not only insightfulness and some truth in what the husband said but also humour and love. As I said, a rare moment! So it was one of those moments that my fellow “blogette” shared and while it made me laugh delightfully it reminded me of a moment this wife shared with her husband. To tell the story with any affect, however, I do need to give you some background!

I discovered a completed yet unposted blog in among my files this evening. I was rather bemused at how I had forgotten about it and put it down to a recurrence of “porridge brain” one of the last remaining afflictions left over from pregnancy. It is a few months out of date, but still worth sharing, I think. So grab yourselves a beverage and settle in for a ramble. This blog started on a Friday morning in mid May at around 2am with the Butterfly climbing over me elbow to rib cage, knee to breast bone so she could “sleep” between her favourite parent and her Mum. Two hours later I banished her back to her own bed and threatened her with a life time of no nakedness if she made the slightest sound for the next four hours. To my delight and surprise, it worked, and with the Mauritian on a day’s leave we were able to sleep in past the sunrise. Breakfast was an unrushed feast complimented with oodles of coffee and conversation, rounded off with a trip to the local “zoo” and a run about the