Frozen Poo

This is the first our this month’s (semi-) Christmas-y (Frozen is a Christmas movie right?). Now you might think that Frozen poo is something of a biological impossiblity, but anyone who has ever eaten too many mints will know what it feels like to have it coming out cold.

Which Christmas movies have you guys got through yet?

Phil

Happy Halloween

So this probably won’t make sense to anyone who didn’t grow up in the UK in the 80s/90s. So let’s start with a frame of reference that more people will understand.

When The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe was released in 2005, many older viewers found themselves waiting in dread anticipation for a particular moment in the film. This moment followed Lucy’s discovery of the abduction of kind Mr Tumnus and it was supposed to be a moment of relief and comfort, but instead it was a moment of existential terror. It wasn’t the moment of meeting the White Witch for the first time, it wasn’t the prospect of being greeted by Maugrim the wolf, or the fear of not knowing whether it was the Witch or St Nic chasing the four young protagonists… the moment that had us grabbing cushions or leaping behind our sofas was the imminent arrival of Mr and Mrs Beaver.

Why, I hear you ask? Well in 1988, the BBC had released their own (TV) adaptation of the chronicles of Narnia. Before the days of CGI, the producers had navigated the problem of talking animals… with people in suits. Most of these were fine (though Maugrim looked like some weird were-rat). But the Beavers… oh the Beavers! They were truly horrifying to behold. The intended effect was supposed to be anxiousness at not knowing what was coming out from behind the trees, followed by relief at the appearance of friendly woodland creatures in the service of Aslan. But the Beavers… the costumes for these monstrosities made them look like some devil-spawned cross between the abominable snowman and a wombat. So terrifying were these that any normal children would have run a mile to escape them.

So in 2005, when those who had seen the 1988 adaptation released they were once again to be confronted by Mr and Mrs Beaver something clicked inside their heads. Years of supressed terror once again bubbled to the surface. And I’m sure some of them let out a little scream. Thank goodness the 2005 beavers were actually the cute furry animals they were supposed to be.

What better time of year to remember these horrors than this.

Happy Halloween.

Phil

31st October

My first exposure to the concept of Halloween was either watching E.T. or Hocus Pocus. It was an evening where kids, dressed as nightmarish monsters, went out onto streets bedecked with trivial horrors in search of sweets. Either way, (aside from the witches or the scary blokes in hazmat suits) it was an evening of frivolity, of laughing, of sweets, and of either crisp autumn sunshine or clear, fresh moonlit nights. Yeeeaaah… so that’s not how it was in the UK. (more…)

Hitting Rock Bottom

Eighteen months ago, we bought a trampoline. It’s been a great purchase and we’re really lucky to have a garden with plenty of space for one. Naturally, with COVID we’ve spent a great deal of time in the garden over the last 7 months and non-Ninja Anna, being the fab mum that she is, will often be found bouncing on the trampoline with the kids. One day, they noticed something special and a theory was born.

The observation: when Mum bounces and lands on her bum (bouncing up in that cool trick thing people can do, that if I try just ends up with me flat on my backside looking silly) the netting on the trampoline dipped further than normal.

The theory: Older = bigger. Bigger = heavier. Therefore, older = heavier. And the dip in a trampoline was directly proportional to the bouncer’s weight.

The hypothesis: When mum reaches the age of 30 (which she did in July) her size will have increased to such an extent that bouncing onto her bum will result in her bum touching the floor!

The kids communicated this logical theory, which they thought signalled their Mum out as the coolest Mum ever. I mean, they don’t know any other Mum’s who can make a trampoline touch the floor right? Little did they realise that what they were actually suggesting was: “Mum, when you’re 30 you’ll be fat and you’re life will be over.” This is what every 29 year old woman wants and needs to hear right?

They meant well at least.

Phil

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