There's a new movement going around. Going around at much the speed of cold custard, or proper tomato sauce (when you haven't hit the bottom of the bottle). Non-Newtonian Fluids, that's the bunny. Sorry. You didn't come here for science lessons, even if it is something I learned from Richard Hammond & that bloke from Big Brother on Brainiac.
New movement, yeah, that's where I was. That movement is Slow Blogging. What? Well, it does exactly what it says on the tin. Rather than broadcasting every thought that passes through my tiny little mind to an unsuspecting public, taking a bit more time over it. Quality rather than quantity. And a bit of reading more, posting less.
Now I'm all for this. I've got a job (with slightly less hours than last month, but hey). I've got a child. I've got a husband. I've got a house, and a garden. All of these take up my time, some more than others. I also have a blog. A nail polish habit. And somewhere along the line I have to sleep. I can't post new blog posts 3 times a day. I can't read other people's blog posts who do. Slow blogging is clearly the way to go, for me at least. If you have the time & energy to blog multiple times a day, and have that much to say, good luck to you. If I had the time, I still wouldn't have the content, and no-one really wants to read about my washing up, whether the bin men have turned up this week, or my theories on the location of my missing socks.
So, that's my new mantra. Quality Not Quantity.
However, as I haven't written anything more useful than a shopping list in the last fortnight & I've got the blogging equivalent of the DT's, here's a pictoral guide to our Easter Holiday adventures.
We took a trip to Ikea, where I was remarkably restrained and didn't buy any random household items I didn't really need (partly because they've discontinued my beloved mini roasting tin). We did, however, buy a large cuddly broccolli, and treated ourselves to hot dogs & lingonberry pop. Hot dogs are, apparently, the best food in the entire world. Closely followed by ice cream.
Owl Sanctuary at Ebbw Vale. An absolutely amazing place, that it seems very few people know about, despite the popularity of the neighbouring outlet village. They rehabilitate injured wild birds of prey, and provide a safe & secure home for birds who can't be released back to the wild.
Squeaky even got the chance to handle a Barn Owl, but as you can see, she was a little bit suspicious about the whole idea. Either that or plotting a way to use the owl to take over the whole world a la Dr Evil.
And finally, as if that wasn't enough adventure for ANYone, never mind a three year old with attitude, we went shopping. Shoe shopping. And I made the amateur mistake of letting her have some input herself. Admittedly, she hasn't had new shoes in ages, because she has surprisingly slow-growing feet. And there's a small (ok BIG) part of me that's really jealous & wanted these shoes for myself. But someone chose a pair of Hello Kitty hi-tops, and there was nothing I could say that was going to change her mind. Please note the expression of smug satisfaction on her face. I am beyond jealous, but I could only find them up to a size 1, and I'm a 5. And just to rub it in, she's refused to wear anything else all week, and one of my work colleagues has threatened to disown me if I find a pair in my size.
So, that was our Easter break. How was yours? I've even run out of Creme Eggs now. Must be back to normality.