You’re an angel, Santa, and other random facts

I’ve only just noticed that my last post was my hundredth! So, that makes this post number … 101. (You see, I can do the maths!)

Amazing how much blogging about nothing can be achieved in such a short time! So, to all of you faithful readers, I would like to extend a heartfelt thanks for taking the time to read and comment. It’s much appreciated!

You deserve a big pat on the back – or a piece of chocolate cake!

And to celebrate the number 101 – how about some disconnected random facts?

- You all know that there were 101 Dalmatians, of course!

- According to Wikipedia (so this random fact may or may not be a fact, in fact!), this is the number you dial in India to call the Fire Brigade, and in Argentina, this number will get you the police.

- 101 is the 26th number and a pallindromic one to boot (same forwards and backwards just like the words ‘mum’ and ‘dad’, for example). This means that 101 is also a pallindromic prime number (couldn’t resist the alliteration here).

- And, of course, 101 is Neo’s number in that great film The Matrix. You can see it on a lot of significant doors throughout the film.

Armed with this knowledge, you will now go on to beat everyone at Trivial Pursuit this Christmas!

On a less random note, my seven-year-old daughter decided that she was going to go all arts and craftsy on me and make Angel Santas from the kit I bought her. I chose this kit with care – making sure that it did not require sewing of any kind. She can sew – but I can’t, so I thought it was safer that way.

We opened the kit to discover needle and thread. Gulp! I read the instructions once, I read them twice (I know which ones are naughty and nice…) There was no mention of sewing anywhere. We painted and dabbed on glitter glue. Then I read the back of the packet again only to discover some kind of warning about the paint and glitter being hard to remove… (Too late! I already know… Still, a table decorated with red paint and glitter is much under-appreciated these days.) But still no mention of what to do with that needle. “Use the glue!” I cried to whoever would listen.

That needle  pricked me, needled me, worried me. It taunted me to do something – anything! I can’t even thread a needle let alone push a hairy camel through it…

I decided to go for a walk. When I got back, I saw these gracing the kitchen table.

Six perfect Santa Angels – complete with Santa hats and angel wings – and not a needle in sight.

It’s amazing what a seven-year-old can achieve once her hysterical mother leaves the house!