This week has been rather turbulent, yet the outcome has left us quite relieved and unusually happy.
DH was made redundant. Quite a shock really, and with second baby arriving in less than 10 weeks, you would think we would be in a bit more of a flap than we are.
Truthfully though, this will be the change in our lives that we have been looking for for so long.
DH will become self-employed, with a variety of ideas and tricks popping up at every conversation - he is mucho resourceful, hardworking and have-a-go, that I am positive this will be his 'thing' and that he will thrive from it. Also, the phone has not stopped ringing with people thinking of him, offering him jobs/help etc.
This redundancy lark also fits in better with our home-education/downshifting philosophy, and increasing family time together. We're not materialistic so possessions that many people crave, don't bother us at all. As long as we can pay the mortgage, it's all good baby.
I also managed to get to the WI this week - the talk was on Retailing in a Recession, by a store manager from Sainsbury's. Quite enlightening, although I think he felt a bit pressured when the Q and A session began. Talking to a bunch of mostly-farmers and keen green recyclers, throw in a few concerned animal welfare hecklers and a lost-for-words man you will find.
Questions like: Do you inject water into your chicken fillets?; What are your recycling policies if we decided to unload all of the ridiculous packaging after purchase at the tills?; Why don't you support local farmers more? generated a lovely reaction from the flustered manager, who will be sure never to give a talk to a WI ever again. Most amusing.
I do rather detest supermarket ethos, but unfortunately, due to the crap-all local shopping ethos (large farming community = import vegetables from Egypt) we do use them. We went today, and I spent the entire shopping expedition waddling behind the trolley, contracting constantly and feeling like baby was about to fall out of my pelvis.
Supper at the WI was an interesting time too; each person had a plate of sandwiches - ham, beef, salmon, tuna, egg and cheese, with a sausage roll and half a sausage. "Looks lovely!", I exclaimed, "but where is the vegetarian option please?"
A look of horror from the three-foot lady behind the tea bar. "Vege what? Well 'ere you go - have a salmon butty."
ME: "Ok, but salmon is fish. I don't eat meat or fish."
YODA: "Oh. Well yer can 'ave a sausage roll then."
ME: "Right. But again, sausage is meat and I don't eat meat."
ANOTHER HELPFUL LADY: "Ooooh give her an egg one then."
YODA: "Naw, she doesn't eat owt wi' animals in it so she can't eat egg or cheese."
Ok, now I am tired, 30 weeks pregnant and getting a little pissed that nobody seems to comprehend what the chuff a vegetarian actually is. Oh, and I'm a tad hormonal too.
ME: "Look, I eat cheese and eggs - I'm not a bloody vegan, so can you just give me a cheese sandwich and a cake and I'll be fine."
A deathly silence crept across the kitchen. People just don't mess with pregnant ladies who look like they may burst at any point.
Then I realised that I was in the middle of a small country village, where most of the inhabitants are raging carnivores, very countrified and perhaps didn't really know what a vegetarian was.
Off now to plant some more veg now I have finished my mini rant...