The Chatterboxes!

Caitlin has discovered imaginative play. It’s great! Over the weekend, Tom and I enjoyed a very relaxed cup of tea whilst Caitie announced, "I'm a farmer today" and disappeared to undertake various tasks around the farm.

We put our feet up and chilled on the sofa, whilst the industrious little farmer would pop in every couple of minutes to let us know what was next on her busy agenda:
"I'm rounding up the sheep now", she'd announce before trotting into the kitchen with a sense of purpose.
"I'm just feeding the pigs!" she called, a minute or so later.
"Don't forget the cows!" we shouted back, encouragingly, before falling back into our chat.

It was all very relaxing. There was, admittedly, a sudden and almighty CRASH at one point which worried Tom but I am wise to the sound of clothes pegs and didn't panic.

WORK WORRIES
Actually, I've been very grateful for Caitlin this week as it's been a bit of a facer at work recently which is why I haven't updated the blog until now.

Cara unexpectedly threw her notice in a me just over a week ago which threw me more than I expected. She'd done a placement year with us between her 2nd and final year of a business degree at University. She first joined us when I was very fat and pregnant and left us just before Caitlin turned one.

Cara was brilliant on her placement year and I also tried to give her a lot of support, coaching and encouragement all through my maternity leave and when I came back too. She seemed a natural at websites, marketing and ideas and very self motivated. I offered her a job when she graduated and she took some time to decide whether to accept or not.

In the end she did, but made it clear she didn't want to be treated as just a young undergraduate next time. She wanted to be taken seriously and given a meaty role that would challenge and expand her.

Well, I obviously took that bit far too seriously as when she gave her notice in, she said marketing wasn't for her, and she'd been lonely. I thought I'd given her all these terrific projects (which I'd have LOVED to have worked on myself but being part time, can't) and her dream job but it turns out I completely misjudged it.

It's all common place in business and goodness knows, I was a nightmare when I just graduated. I also took a job on the back of a placement and really, I shouldn't have accepted it as I hadn't enjoyed the placement at all! But when you are staring unemployment in the face, just out of Uni, you tend to grab the first offer. I expect that is what Cara did.

But even though the grown up side of me accepts it, the childish bit of me is very sad. Still, lessons to be learnt and you can always improve as a manager. Having a part time manager who spends the rest of the time splashing in puddles, making toys talk and riding around on tricycles must be a bit of challenge ...

I LOVE TO RIDE MY TRICYCLE
Talking about tricycles, have I told you about mine? Firstly, a confession.

I can't ride a bike.

Isn't that appalling?

But I've given up being ashamed now so I think I shall just announce it, loud and proud. Give me a horse anytime. It can see where it's going.

Tom, meanwhile, is a very keen cyclist. But I was a bit jealous when he was taking Caitlin out on his bike so . . . he has bought me my very own, grown up trike with 2 child seats behind (2?? Well, you never know) from eBay. It is a Pashley model straight out of the 1970s with a basket for my shopping on the back. I love it!

So does Caitlin.

She sings to me all the way and insists on honouring different toys by letting them ride on the spare kiddie seat. Mind you, last time we cycled to the supermarket, a cauliflower was in pride of place seat belted into the spare seat as I couldn't fit it in the basket!

I'll have to get a photo up for you of the intrepid trikers!

NEW COVER PROJECTS (you heard it here first)

I've had a couple of very exciting projects come my way at work this week. Sarah spotted that it is the 50th Anniversary of Ivor the Engine ... look, there he is! ... next year.

I've spoken to Peter Firmin who created Ivor along with Oliver Postgate and he's agreed to let us produce the official Ivor 50th anniversary cover and stamp sheet! I'm hugely excited and think it is only right that we get Ivor on DVD as a company expense ... do you think??

The project will be raising funds for Peter's charity, Society for the Protection of Animals Abroad, which I hadn't heard of before but now am very excited about. This charity works through West Africa and the Middle East treating sick working animals and educating people about how to look after them better. In communities where people's livelihoods depend on their animals, this is incredibly important. By helping the animals, they also help the families.

The other project is celebrating 100 years since Louis Blériot’s remarkable achievement on 25 July 1909. He flew the very first cross channel flight in a Blériot XI aeroplane powered only by a 25HP engine.

It's a fabulous piece of aviation history to commemorate and even more exciting when you live a stone's through from where it happened. Dover is buzzing with it and there will be big celebrations next year, including a historic recreation of Blériot's flight across the English Channel (hopefully with our covers on board!).

CHATTERBOXES!
Finally, give Tom your sympathy. There will be no peace for him ever since it is becoming increasingly clear that Caitlin is going to be as much of a chatterbox as me!

When I went to pick her up from nursery yesterday, it turned out they had been doing "free play" with large cardboard boxes. They could do anything they wanted with their box. There were pirate ships, racing cars, houses, jack in the boxes ... but Caitlin and her little best friend, Fabi, hadn't done anything with theirs. They were just sitting in it, chatting!

"They've been there all afternoon", one of the ladies told me, "Talking to each other!"

Intrigued, I crept closer to eavesdrop before Caitlin noticed me and listened to their conversation. It went something like this:

Caitlin: I go with my Mummy and my Daddy sometimes to the park.
Fabi: I have a dog and he goes woof sometimes.
Caitlin: And we jump sometimes and sometimes we splash in puddles.
Fabi: My baby doll is called baby.

And so it went. Neither seemed at all bothered that the other wasn't listening and they both seemed delighted with their conversation, which had apparently gone on for hours!

When I interrupted them to take Caitlin home, they had a big hug.
"Claitlin is my best friend", said Fabi.

Thank goodness for toddlers, they do cheer you up (even if they also cause half your insecurities and all your exhaustion).

I did promise in my email last week to tell the tale of Denny the Pumpkin in more depth but I think I may have exhausted your patience enough for one time! So I'll end here,

Ellie x

P.S. Denny has a friend! Caitlin was given a pink rubber duck, which she has named Claire, in her party bag at Isaac's party, which made up for the loss of the Boat.

Claire, it turns out, can't use the potty like Denny as her hole is in her beak but she is fabulous at rinsing and spitting when it's tooth cleaning time . . .

Beal Beal! Beal Beal!

This week, I took Caitlin out to lunch with one of her friends from nursery and the friend's Mum. It was carnage!

Caitlin and I go to this coffee shop quite often, just the 2 of us, and she is usually angelic. I bask in the approving glow of the old ladies who lunch there. They usually coo over my daughter and tell me what I great Mum I am (such ego boosts are always welcome).

Taking her with her friend was a whole new story.

The first thing that happened was that both of them sprinted in before we could catch up with them, grabbed the homemade greetings cards for sale and brandished them around, to the disapproving glares of everyone else.

“Caitlin!” I hissed, “Is that your thing?”
“No…..” she says, slightly shamefacedly.
“Do we touch OTHER PEOPLE’S THINGS?”
“No”, she replies sadly.
“Then PUT IT BACK!”

I put Caitlin in her booster seat as usual at the table. I like booster seats as I can strap her in (control freak). But! Her friend, Fabi, sits in a grown up seat.

“Why’s Caitlin in a baby’s chair” asks Fabi.
Caitlin looks dismayed.
“Because Caitlin isn’t as tall as you and that way she can reach the table”, replies Fabi's Mum, faster than the speed of light.

Next I put on Caitlin’s bib.
Fabi doesn’t have a bib anymore (oh dear, am I babying her too much? Mum insecurity mode ON).

“Why’s Caitlin wearing a baby’s bib?” asks Fabi.
Caitlin looks dismayed and tries to take the bib off.
“Because Caitlin is wearing a prettier dress than you!” says Fabi’s quick thinking Mum.

The worst part of the lunch was the NOISE. They were tearaways! Caitlin and Fabi were so noisy that I got ticked off by one of the old ladies who lunch (opps! very upsetting for me who can't bear disapproval, especially of my Caitlin!).

When Caitie and I went to the loo, I thought I'd grab the chance to get my Caitie back in line and whispered to her, “You and Fabi are being very noisy. Do you think you can be a bit quieter for Mummy as we’re disturbing the other people?”

Mistake.

Caitlin was too excited for reason.
And mentioning noise was a Very Bad Idea.
She has a game with Pig (one of her soft toys), involving Pig (who has a voice much like Dot from Eastenders) declaring “I don’t like noise” to which Caitlin replies with a large number of high pitched shrieks.

Yes, you've guessed right. As soon as I mentioned noise, the high pitched shrieks happened. Along with a lot of silent screaming in my head.....

But the rowdiest moment was probably when the 2 hoodlums both held their cheese sandwiches to the sky and declared: "Beal, beal! Beal, beal!" like a war cry.

"BEAL BEAL! BEAL BEAL, Mummy!" they chorused.

(At least, it sounded like "beal, beal". I hope it wasn't "kill, kill").

It turns out Fabi, Caitlin's friend, has been chanting "beal, beal" for sometime at home. So has Caitlin. Both Fabi's Mum and I are completely bemused as to what it is. Any ideas?

Oh by the way, since I last wrote, I came up with a Brainwave about The Boat.

I promised Caitlin she would get a sticker every time she used the potty and when she had enough stickers to fill up a large chart, she could have a boat like Isaac's. She was inspired enough to take potty training very seriously and has earned the boat already.

Oh, Denny has been forgiven. But he is rather outshined by The Boat at bathtime now.

Best wishes

Ellie x

The Battle of the Boat

I have been warned that Caitlin will hit the "terrible twos" and I'm starting to get an inkling what they mean . . .

Just before her bedtime last night, she spotted a toy boat on the side of the kitchen. I'd bought it for my friend's son's first birthday next week.

Caitlin's eyes lit up.

"Is that mine?" she asked excitedly.

"No, darling, it's a present for Isaac's birthday", I replied.

She is undaunted. "Can I have it?" she asked.

"No, darling", I reply, "It's a present for Isaac."

"Can we share it?" she asked, with the air of a lawyer about to pounce.

"No, darling", say I, "because it is for Isaac".

"That's not fair!"

"Well, firstly, life isn't fair", I say calmly, giving her the wisdom always imparted to me by my Dad, "and secondly, I think in this case it is pretty fair because Isaac gave you a watering can for your birthday and now you are giving him a boat for his".

"I WANT IT!!!!!!!" roared Caitlin, logic escaping her.

"I NEED IT!!!!" she added for good measure.

She then proceeded to weep bitterly all the way to bed. I say "weep" because it was more tragic than your usual cry. The tears rolled silently down her cheeks. She shook a little. Her lip trembled. Every now and then, she would whisper, as if the pain was almost too much to bear, "I need that boat!"

My word, it was hard. I had to bite my lip to stop myself exclaiming, "My precious girl, my darling one, have the boat! It's yours!" or "Don't cry, my sweet, we will get you a boat! Tomorrow, we will go and buy a boat just for you!".

But, I'm proud to say, I didn't. I manage to harden my heart to the pathetic, weeping mite and put her to bed, still snivelling and muttering about boats. She cried herself to sleep and I forced myself to go downstairs and leave her to it.

"She's just overtired" I told myself, "No one dies of a broken heart because they didn't get a small, plastic boat. She'll be herself again in the morning."

The next morning, Caitlin called me, as she does and I jumped out of bed (obedient Mum that I am but unlike an alarm clock, she doesn't have a snooze option).

"Good morning!" I said cheerfully.
"Good morning!" she replied, "Can I have that boat now?"

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(I stayed strong. It is now the Great Unspoken. But wish me luck when we give Isaac the boat next week!)

SPECIAL BLOG OFFER!

I promised I'd hide some offers in my blogs so here is the latest. I couldn't really find an offer for a cover featuring a plastic boat or a raging toddler, funnily enough, so I did some lateral thinking and here is a submarine cover instead!

It's an amazing submarine cover at that.
A classic from 2001, we officially produced it for the Royal Navy Submarine Museum. This edition has a British Forces Post Office postmark and I believe just 11 were personally signed by Victoria Cross winner, Ian Fraser VC. He won his VC at sea.

The full price is £45. We only have a few left in stock (well, he only signed 11 so you can imagine we don't have many!)

And for readers of my blog, if you move fast, you can own one for just £40.
That is a whole £5 off. But only while stocks last.
Click here to find out more & buy.

You might wonder that we have ANY left considering how good a cover it is and the answer, as usual, is that we forgot to advertise it! I think he signed much later, after the cover was issued, when we sent him a batch of other covers and slipped these 11 in to make up the numbers. We are always doing things like that and then forgetting to tell our collectors! Still, good news for you though . . .

Until next time,

Ellie x

Welcome

Welcome to my first blog. For those of you who get my regular emails with special offers (if you don't, why not?!), this is really an extension of the Weekly Caitlin Story. With an added dose of life at Buckingham Covers!

It's been a really hectic couple of weeks for me. Josh the Shetland was rehomed on Sunday. :-(

The story of Josh the Shetland
For those of you who don't follow my ramblings, Josh the Shetland pony was one of my more stupid impulse buys. As one of my friends said, "Most of us stick to handbags" [well, covers in our case!] but you have to take it one step further!"

I am completely horse mad and this gorgeous Shetland had pretty much been abandoned at the stables where I keep my horse, Cassie so I sort of offered to take him on. This was followed by a full scale reality check of panic when I remembered that I could barely afford my horse (the only way I can keep her is by allowing the riding school to share her and also sharing her with another girl).

And it occurred to me, belatedly, the my daughter, Caitlin, is only 2 years old and what looks like the the cutest of little ponies to me (Josh is 35 inches high - smaller than a big dog!) is the size of an elephant to her. And just because she names all her toys "Josh" doesn't mean she wants to ride yet . . .

I struck gold finding him a home though. He is off to a racing yard in Newmarket for a year! Watch for him coming up on the track any time soon . . .

The trainer there has 3 small sons, 5 years, 4 years and 2 and a half years old who are completely in love with Josh and already riding him without a saddle. Josh is on loan there for a year and hopefully will come back home to me after that when Caitlin is older (still haven't worked out how I'll afford him, mind but perhaps I'll ask The Boss for a pay rise!!! ho ho ... ).

So, Sunday was the Big Day when I took Josh to Newmarket - about 3 hours drive from Folkestone with horse trailer. My friend, Gemma, very kindly drove us up there since she has a trailer.

It all went well until the way back. Thank goodness, Josh was delivered!

All Gemma's warning lights came on in her car.

This is where she and I proved our girliness forever (you know me, Paddington Bear, The Snowman).

I looked up the lights in her handbook.
"Breaks, fluid and battery" I say naively, "They can't all go at once, can they?"
"Surely not!" she replied, "Must be an electrical fault. Let's carry on to the services".

WHY? I hear all you males (and sensible females) cry?
You Don't Ignore Warning Lights.

Well, don't worry, I've learnt. And if I hadn't, Gemma's partner, Ben and my husband, Tom - and my Dad - have all impressed this upon us. Promise.

Shortly after our foolish decision, smoke began puffing from the bonnet, the breaks cut out and the engine died. We managed to freewheel into the hard shoulder of the M11. Oh dear.

Now, am I allowed to be rude about another business on my blog? I'm not sure of the etiquette. But hey, what the hell, let's go for it.

I called Green Flag. We are a member of Green Flag as Tom and I were cost cutting. Before we were with the AA and believe me, after this we will be again.

My call went something like this (but please imagine loud motorway background noise plus the noise of the trailer shaking each time a lorry goes by)

Green Flag (from now on GF, in a tetchy female voice): Can I take your vehicle number please?
Me: Actually, I'm in a friend's vehicle but I have personal cover, I believe.
GF: I need the vehicle number.
Me: (gives the number)
GF [sounding cross]: I don't have a match for that.
Me: [thinking, "surprise, surprise, listen next time"]: No, you won't have. I'm a personal member.
GF [making a tutting noise]: May I take your postcode then please?
Me: (gives it)
GF [sounding distinctly smug]: You don't have personal cover, you have vehicle cover. So basically, you are not covered right now. And you are on the motorway.
Me [deep breath]: How much to get cover?
GF [with the air of pulling a trump card]: £89. And that only gets you to a garage within 10 miles.

It hurt but I went with the £89 option. I thought that shopping around for the best deal while the cars and lorrys zoomed past wasn't very appealing. I just wanted to be RESCUED.

The charming Green Flag lady put me on hold for what felt like an eternity whilst I had to listen to their recording of "Rescue Me, I want you in my arms". I discovered a severe sense of humour failure about this jolly touch.

Eventually, I was told that, as 2 women alone on the motorway, we were priority. Someone would be with us in an hour.

2 hours later, he arrived.
Gemma told him what happened.

"Well, you've ruined your engine for good then, haven't you?" he said in a sarcastic manner, filling our hearts with cheer, "You should have stopped when the lights came on".
[thanks, we might have worked that one out ourselves]

"What garage do you want to go to?" he then asks, grumpily.
"We're not from here", we reply, "We don't know any garages!"
"Well, I don't," says our knight in shining armour, "So you best get on your phone!"

He adds, "What's your priority then?"
"To get home!" we reply.
"No!" he grins in a patronizing way, "To upgrade your Green Flag membership!"

[funnily enough, my priority on that front is to rejoin AA]

30 minutes or so later and we are in a deserted business park outside a closed garage (it is Sunday). We have to post the car keys through with a note. We ask the helpful Green Flag man if he would give us a lift 2 miles down the motorway to the Service Station so it will be easier to find for whoever comes to collect us.

"I'm not a taxi" he replied.

Luckily, Gemma's lovely partner, Ben, proved to be a true knight in shining armour and drove up to fetch up. My lovely Tom was somewhere in Wiltshire on a boat on a stag weekend. The less said the better! He's just about standing again now!!

So my best advice is: don't cost cut when getting rescue cover!
But you knew that anyway.
Oh, and don't ignore warning lights
(but it seems Gemma and I are the only ones who are that silly. Not again though!).

By the way, we did a tribute cover to the AA once and now I've experienced their competition, I feel they truly deserve it!

We only did a limited edition of 75 with a lovely set of car stamps from 1982. They were never widely advertised so you might still be in with a chance of owning one.

Have a look at:
www.buckinghamcovers.com/shop/productdisplay.lasso?product_id=569

Until next time, very best wishes,

Ellie :-)

P.S. My offer this week is for a really unusual first day football World Cup photograph signed by Sir Geoff Hurst. Check it out!
http://www.buckinghamcovers.com/spotlight/index.lasso

P.P.S. If you'd like to get my regular emails about offers and what Caitlin's up to, join the family!
http://www.buckinghamcovers.com/family