15 Dec 2010

Hestia and ....The Cleaning of Nibbles

I took Christmassy pity on our little hamster, Nibbles, and moved him from the back sitting room (North facing, always Exorcist-chilly) and into our toasty-warm living room.

This proved to be a bit of a mistake because Nibbles likes to be a bit of a Diva as far as his woodshavings are concerned - scraping them up with great gusto and flinging them out of every gap in his cage.  Which means that my Best Room bears more than a passing resemblence to the Baby Jesus's Stable.  Only with tiny hamster poops.

10 Dec 2010

Hestia's first GIVEAWAY!!!! With Waldo Pancake

Waldo Pancake notebook!
Look - it's m'first GIVEAWAY on the blog and I couldn't be happier for it to be in conjunction with the whimsical boffins of stationery, Waldo Pancake!

If you're not already familiar with the Waldo Pancake range of goodies, please check out my own island connection with them for some images of their range.

Would you like to be in with a chance to win a goody bag of this witty kit?  Yes?!

You only need to do 2 things:


9 Dec 2010

Hestia & Sonshine - loggerheads

Hestia at 8.30am this morning
Things started off fine this morning.  He came through and snuggled in beside me in bed, wittering quietly about LEGO Universe (£10 per month and apparently excellent value - can he get it? etc) which I tuned out beautifully.

He was then dispatched downstairs to get his breakfast sorted and I asked him to put on his dressing gown and slippers - because this is a VERY cold house and we have mosaic tiled floors in the hall.  Lovely, but will suck the heat out of your very soul.

By the time I saw him again, after breakfast, his nose was running and his hands and feet were freezing (no slippers on) and I pointed out to him that if he came down with pleurisy, he would end up in hospital - off the island.  And that if he was in hospital on Christmas Day, I joked, he'd be on his own because we'd all be here opening his presents.

Hestia and....The Bleak Midwinter

I'd get those gutters fixed, frankly.
Scotland put up a big 'Closed Due To Bad Weather' sign at the border a few days ago when we got hit with more snow in a week than we've had since mammoths cruised up and down Sauchiehall Street.

And I'm not talking about that hardy breed of girl that staggers around after midnight wearing a two-sizes too small boob tube and denim mini skirt in sub-zero temperatures singing Don't You Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me into an emty lager bottle whilst eying up some shivering youth waiting at a bus stop.