Son said his first day at school was 'fantastic' and twins are in love with Miss Susan, so nobody is missing the summer holidays at all - least of all me; I spent a lovely morning in a cafe planning a novel (although because I've got lots of time, the plot is rapidly becoming more tangled and dense than Gary-the-dog's fur), and after lunch I went out for a spot of reflexology. I'm shattered now! 

Two pink fairy bags and one blue Scooby Doo bag are ready to go in the hallway. Yes it's the end of the summer hols for us (they run from end of June here), and kids are going to school in the morning. Have mixed feelings about it, as we have had a pretty good time (although spent far too much money in cafes buying fizzy pop and chips), and despite the odd lurgy - finally succumbed to Kathmandu tummy last week and am fast approaching a size 10 again, hurrah - I have been an alright mum, way less shouty than in the UK. Still, I have plenty of ideas for what to do with my three hours spare time every morning, and they don't involve either shopping or going to coffee mornings, much to Hubby's relief. I did, however, make it to one coffee morning on Friday as it was one to welcome newcomers, which was nice, if a bit too formal for me (I'm not big on standing up in the middle of a circle of around thirty women and having my photo taken). The kids came too, and were little angels, far too busy eating the free cake and crisps on offer to bother even getting out of their seats or showing any interest in my inaugauration (not sure how to spell that one?) into the 'partners' club'. Managed to cut loose before the bingo started, using the kids getting bored as a pretext (although I think they would happily have sat there scoffing carbs for another hour or so). Friday was one big social whirl actually, with the welcome coffee morning and then a do in the mess in the evening. I have never been to an evening quite like this one before (although from what I'm told, I certainly will again - probably every month): the night kicked off with bingo (again! seems a bit of an obsession...), followed by some pretty tasty curry, although I made a bit of a cultural faux pas by joining the mens' queue for the food, when I should have eaten first with the ladies - although Hubby and I were too busy asking the Chief of Staff about being a buddhist (never really got an answer about how someone who believes so strongly in the sanctity of all life that he won't even squash a mosquito can happily spend his career as a colonel in the British army. A pretty big big contradiction, huh?) so I missed the call for the ladies' scoff. Afterwards there were some speeches where there was an inverse relationship between interesting content and length of monologue. And then, there was some really quite exciting Nepali dancing, where the dancers lip synched to some tinkly changly (yes i made that word up but if you'd heard it you'd know what i mean) folk tunes. The gist of the dancing seemed to suggest luscious young girls trying not to fall in love with grinning young lads. It was an interesting cultural experience for me, at least for the first half hour, but then I started to think that maybe if you've heard one tinkly changly tune with a gorgeous snake-hipped Nepali mouthing the words, then perhaps you'd heard them all. So Hubby and I did a tactical withdrawal. By this stage Hubby had quaffed a full three pints (fifty per cent more than on a usual night out!) and embarked on a long discourse with my Health Visitor, who also happened to be there, during which he remarked on our sex life at least five times. I will not be able to look her in the eye next time I pop in to discuss the children's vaccinations.

On Saturday he had a hangover, although he claimed to be grumpy merely because he had a cricked neck from sleeping oddly...

Today we escaped Kathmandu and drove up to a viewpoint resort in the hills. It was a beautiful view, but a really scary old precipitous Landrover drive to get there. I got attacked by a leech (and I had an attack of truly girly squeamishness whilst I poked it off with a stick and Dinesh gallantly trod on it) when we arrived, and there was some blood, so it had already started its lunch, the bugger. The view was a bit cloudy, but Hubby checked his super-dooper watch, which is also a barometer (and has several other very important functions, which I forget), and confidently predicted sunshine as the pressure was apparently going up. Shortly after this it started to rain in earnest, so we had lunch indoors with a great view of grey wetness. Oh, and my flip flops broke ( I only had them made a couple of weeks ago, so that was pretty pants), so I gingerly tip toed back to the Landrover afterwards in mortal fear of another leech attack. And then we had the journey back down the perilously slippy mountainside in the rain. 

But apart from that it was a pretty good day out - would do it again...maybe. Actually maybe not.

I know, it's been a while...power cuts are partly to blame (even though we have lap top and our own generator, the internet gets cut off at the same time) also Hubby seems to have been hogging the computer a bit. But anyway, here I am, fresh from surfing ebay for silver watches - I am hoping to get a cheap one that I can take to a jeweller here and get customised. I have really got sucked into the whole shopping thing, although luckily as kids still on holiday, there are limits to how much I can do. However, I did manage to order a leather skirt today and get some fabulous green satin for making a new evening dress, despite three-way handbrake. As a thank you to the kids for traipsing across town to the leather shop with me (the traffic was so bad that even our fab new car game 'pink umbrella'* got a bit boring) I decided to take them all out for cake and pop at a lush place called Barbarmahal (who I always thought was a cartoon elephant from a kids book, but it turns out is a tourist trap in Kathmandu) Revisited (I'm not sure why it's called Barbarmahal Revisited... revisiting what? Like Brideshead Revisited? never read it, but I do know it has a teddy called Sebastian Flyte in it - my facility for hoovering up trivia is pretty good - think if we ever settle anywhere I should organise pub quizzes in my local, with lots of questions on eighties indie bands and toys from literature). Anyway, it's a lush place with shops and cafes built in the courtyards of an old palace, with some yummy cakes on the menu of one particular place, which I was sure the children would love. So I forked out what in Nepali terms is probably the equivalent of about one weeks wages on a snack for my well-fed and overprivileged offspring, who pushed it round their plates and asked to go home. It was hard not to get irritated (and in fact I did), when there are people here who are genuinely hungry, and the food we eat is wildly extravagant in comparison to the usual local dish of dahl and rice. Next time kids can just have a banana in the car and be grateful!

Oh yes, one of the reasons I haven't written for so long is that we spent one evening preparing our 'go bags' in case there is an earthquake. We now have two rucksacks, which we keep in the hallway at home or they come out in the car with us, just in case. Apparently Nepal has not had a major eathquake since 1934, and as they usually come round every sixty years or so, we are way overdue. So, if we're out on yet another shopping trip  - not to Barbarmahal as I'm not going there again with kids - and the worst happens (massive earthquake, roads and Bagmati Bridge destroyed), we can at least camp in the Landrover until help arrives. Dinesh, our driver, thinks it's hilarious that I insist the bags are in the car whenever we go out, but we'll be the ones laughing (actually, we probably won't, we'll by crying hysterically along with the rest of the citizens of kathmandu) if it actually happens. We have a torch and spare clothes and shoes and a sleeping bag. We have enough food for around two days. It's only baked beans and boiled sweets, but kids will probably love it, beanz and sweetz and no cleaning teeth, hurrah. I'm trying not to think about the whole major earthquake thing too much because it is a big scary old thing, which frankly scares the beejesus out of me. 

* pink umbrella game is: five points for spotting a dog, ten for a cow, fifteen for a goat, twenty for a monkey and five for a pink umbrella. On a trip to a temple last weekend, we split into two teams, and the girls and boys teams both scored one hundred and fifteen points by the time we arrived. Which gives a fairly accurate idea of what the streets in kathmandu are like.   

Pool on camp still closed, so yet another sunny day, and yet another million pounds spent going to hotel pool (the wholemeal ladies had gone, and the pool attendant was back). Son tried very hard to swim, but didn't quite manage it, despite me rather rashly promising an aquarium in his bedroom if he did. Twin 2 wobbled about courting head injuries and giving me a cardiac as usual. 

Later, after lunch and two DVDs, I decided it was time I put the effort into being a good mum and turned the telly off, promising a game of hide-and-seek. I hid, they sought. I took my book with me (The Crow Road by Iain Banks; it's v.good so far) and managed to get through around seventy pages over the course of the afternoon - I'm not that good at hiding (I spent most of the time either behind the sofa or in my own bed), but they are truly pants at seeking. Son eventually gave up and went off to play frisbee over the fence with the kids next door. 

Meena the cook is slightly less lugubrious today, as I have promised her a bread-maker. She even made a joke about me getting fat on her choc chip cookies, which made Hubby laugh rather too heartily for my liking (also this comment is a bit rich coming from her, as she is pretty much a cottage loaf with Tibetan colouring - not sure how she puts any weight on, as she seems to be permanently on a religious fast, which I don't think is a particularly good sign, having a cook who doesn't actually eat). However, she did roll her eyes when I asked her to make us a cup of tea after supper, but reluctantly agreed to do it because it was what 'Saheb' (aka Hubby) wanted. She's taken a shine to 'Saheb' as he's constantly telling her how lovely her cooking is and how rubbish mine is, and laughing at her oh-so-amusing quips about the size of my thighs. The traitor. Nothing is too much trouble for Saheb, but if Memsaheb (me*) wants a cup of tea, or her cook to make bread it's all suddenly a little bit difficult. Anyway, I've just ordered a massive amount of bread-mix, and someone is lending me their bread-maker (ironically it's the family Meena's husband cooks for - he refuses to use a bread maker as he prides himself in making his own bread, pasta, and choux pastry. Oh yes. Shame he can't give his wife a few cooking tips...), so hopefully there'll be a bit less of the eye-rolling pathos soon.

*Yes, I am a memsaheb. Yes it is a colonial hangover. No, I don't feel especially guilty about it, but not sure whether I should?

found my mojo!

Found my mojo! There it was, in a reflexology and shiatsu place next to a trendy Japanese cafe. I also found a jolly nice green and blue glass necklace thingy in the shop above the cafe. So gin and brownies no longer required. 

The pool has been closed for the last three days, which means the weather has been fabulous. The pool opens again tomorrow, so I am confidently expecting a good old monsoon downpour all day. 

We've had to drive to a nearby hotel for the last three days and pay pots of cash to swim there. It's the same hotel where I had the grumpy beauty treatments the other week, so I've been half-expecting the toad woman to be lurking poolside, but luckily haven't caught sight of her so far. 

They had an organic food fair next to the pool today, so the place was surrounded by wholemeal looking women munching earnestly on gritty buns. And it was the lifeguard's day off. I mentioned to the receptionist that I was going to the pool with three non-swimmers, but nobody seemed too concerned. I suppose if we got into trouble someone could just toss in an organic muffin for us to use an improvised buoyancy aid. Or alternatively the toad woman could whip out of the beauty parlour and flick out her fly-catching tongue to rescue my drowning offspring. Luckily we were all ok, so neither cake nor tongue had to be employed on this occasion.

Went into camp this afternoon so kids could be suitably impressed when Hubby showed them the concrete pour on part of 'his' new water treatment works. They managed to look interested for at least thirty seconds, and then we all went to the canteen to get crisps and pop and then went to watch the some other soldiers playing basketball (the latter was entirely their idea and had nothing whatsoever to do with me wanting to brighten up my day by watching fit men in shorts).

I am better now, although seem to have temporarily mislaid my mojo...perhaps I left it in the ladies at Kilroy's restaurant on Friday night. There was a plaque in the loo dedicating the toilet to a Mrs Susan McGraw. It was very much like the plaques you see on wooden benches at sights of scenic interest, you know, "For Grandad, who so liked to sit here on summer evenings," etc. Except that it was in a toilet in Kathmandu. The sign didn't elaborate much, it just said it was for Susan. Personally, I would have liked a bit more detail, eg "For Susan, who used to come here to escape tedious chit chat of her husband's boring work mates", or maybe "For Susan, who so suffered from irritable bowel syndrome" or perhaps "For dear Susan, who enjoyed our curries a little too much.". Did she donate money so that the restaurant could provide customers with a proper sit-down lavvie, rather than the local squat down ones? Bless her heart if she did. But could it be that it is really more of a memorial, and that she passed away whilst passing wind. I hope not. It's a big mystery. As much of a mystery as my missing mojo. I have just looked for it in a chocolate brownie (which was a bit soggy and undercooked, but I don't have the heart to mention it to Meena, as my demands of homemade bread are apparently playing havoc with her arthritis, and I don't want to tip her over the edge) but it wasn't there, so I think I may try looking at the bottom of a glass of gin and tonic. Will let you know if I have any luck xxx

Have got the lurgy. Luckily not the same one as the girls. Hubby thought I was being a wimp yesterday when I elected not to go to circuits (have done no exercise for more than two months now and given Meena a recipe for chocolate brownies, so whole thing is beginning to take its toll on my considerably-more-than-ample thighs) as I was feeling a bit dizzy. But today I have been utterly spaced out and useless, well, more so than usual. Even hoovering up four chocolate brownies hasn't made me feel much better. Hope this doesn't last as it is seriously interfering with shopping/swimming/finding nice cafes etc. Have to go and lie down now as room is swimming (and not though gin consumption)...