I certainly know what it's like to have that feeling that you've somehow fallen down a rabbit hole into a weird new life where nothing is quite as you expect .... and now you can all join in, getting your very own Alice in Wonderland vibe, thanks to those little darlings at Disney. Here's a sneak preview of their extraordinary new version of the Lewis Carroll classic:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1VHRz1S_kYI
With many thanks to the wonderful Englishmum and Disney.
Now then, I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date ....with a wet weekend in Wales. See you Monday! x
Friday, 31 July 2009
Wednesday, 29 July 2009
Just Divorced
According to the Sunday Times, getting divorced these days is something to celebrate. Women everywhere, apparently, are organising 'anti-hen' parties, icing Divorced At Last on large white cakes, watching their wedding videos in reverse and whooping with joy when the groom removes the wedding ring and the pair separate, driving off into their individual, lonely sunsets.
Am I the only one who finds all this a little sad? And not just, I would add, because I haven't had a Happy Divorce party all of my own. It's not that, really it isn't. I'm not yearning to live it up. I'm not a big party girl and haven't been for years. Even my hen do, long ago, was curiously sedate - I went to the Sanctuary with my two best friends and we sat in fluffy robes drinking green tea. The wildest thing we did was to swim in the nude (which does feel curiously decadent - it's amazing what a difference taking off a teensy bit of lycra makes). In retrospect, I wonder if all this restraint meant that my heart wasn't in the whole thing even then - I was 26, for God's sake, and really should have been out getting hammered wearing a fake bridal veil and L plates from Claire's Accessories, like any normal girl.
I think it just disturbs me that anyone can see divorce as a result to be celebrated. It is not, surely, what either party went into a marriage for. I can understand the wild sense of liberation as the shackles of an unhappy marriage fall with a great clank to the floor. But that moment - remember Nicole Kidman punching the sky after her divorce from Tom Cruise - doesn't last all that long. Divorce, just like marriage, is for life.
There seem to be many stages to divorce. After that euphoria comes moments of sadness, attacking as random happy memories which are rendered suddenly painful. If you have children, the unexpected moment when they look, or sound, or even walk, like the former spouse, can be exquisitely difficult.
I'm trying to picture myself at a place in this divorce business when I can, like the model illustrating the Sunday Times article, wear 'Just Divorced' knickers with pride. I think it's going to take many years. And a crash diet, liposuction and lashings of Vaseline on the lens, of course.
And nor will I be taking up their other suggestion, of getting my engagement, wedding and eternity rings remodelled into merry divorcee gee-gaws. Yes, things went pear-shaped with the actual husband. But the jewellry I'm still attached to, thank you.
Am I the only one who finds all this a little sad? And not just, I would add, because I haven't had a Happy Divorce party all of my own. It's not that, really it isn't. I'm not yearning to live it up. I'm not a big party girl and haven't been for years. Even my hen do, long ago, was curiously sedate - I went to the Sanctuary with my two best friends and we sat in fluffy robes drinking green tea. The wildest thing we did was to swim in the nude (which does feel curiously decadent - it's amazing what a difference taking off a teensy bit of lycra makes). In retrospect, I wonder if all this restraint meant that my heart wasn't in the whole thing even then - I was 26, for God's sake, and really should have been out getting hammered wearing a fake bridal veil and L plates from Claire's Accessories, like any normal girl.
I think it just disturbs me that anyone can see divorce as a result to be celebrated. It is not, surely, what either party went into a marriage for. I can understand the wild sense of liberation as the shackles of an unhappy marriage fall with a great clank to the floor. But that moment - remember Nicole Kidman punching the sky after her divorce from Tom Cruise - doesn't last all that long. Divorce, just like marriage, is for life.
There seem to be many stages to divorce. After that euphoria comes moments of sadness, attacking as random happy memories which are rendered suddenly painful. If you have children, the unexpected moment when they look, or sound, or even walk, like the former spouse, can be exquisitely difficult.
I'm trying to picture myself at a place in this divorce business when I can, like the model illustrating the Sunday Times article, wear 'Just Divorced' knickers with pride. I think it's going to take many years. And a crash diet, liposuction and lashings of Vaseline on the lens, of course.
And nor will I be taking up their other suggestion, of getting my engagement, wedding and eternity rings remodelled into merry divorcee gee-gaws. Yes, things went pear-shaped with the actual husband. But the jewellry I'm still attached to, thank you.
Tuesday, 21 July 2009
Words women use
As you know, I am an old hand at the Battle of the Sexes. If they were giving out medals for those who have entered this particular field of combat and emerged, bloodied but unbowed, I would have the Distinguished Service Order several times by now. Sometimes, as part of my continued effort to understand the enemy, ahem, work with the other side, I sneak behind their lines and bring back anything that might be useful to the rest of us ladies fighting the good fight. On my last mission, I came across this dog-eared scrap of paper, handed to me by my dear friend E, who risked her life finding it. It turns out our menfolk have actually been listening to us and trying to develop a rough translation guide! Aren't they adorable? Now read on:
NINE WORDS WOMEN USE
(1) Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.
(2) Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.
(3) Nothing: This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with 'nothing' usually end in 'fine'.
(4) Go Ahead: This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It!
(5) Loud Sigh: This is not actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to # 3 for the meaning of 'nothing'.)
(6) That's Okay: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That's Okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.
(7) Thanks: A woman is thanking you! Do not question, or faint. Just say 'you're welcome'. (I want to add in a clause here - This is true, unless she says 'Thanks a lot' - that is PURE sarcasm and she is not thanking you at all. DO NOT say 'you're welcome' . that will bring on a 'whatever').
NINE WORDS WOMEN USE
(1) Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.
(2) Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.
(3) Nothing: This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with 'nothing' usually end in 'fine'.
(4) Go Ahead: This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It!
(5) Loud Sigh: This is not actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to # 3 for the meaning of 'nothing'.)
(6) That's Okay: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That's Okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.
(7) Thanks: A woman is thanking you! Do not question, or faint. Just say 'you're welcome'. (I want to add in a clause here - This is true, unless she says 'Thanks a lot' - that is PURE sarcasm and she is not thanking you at all. DO NOT say 'you're welcome' . that will bring on a 'whatever').
(8) Whatever: Is a woman's way of saying F-- YOU!
(9) Don't worry about it, I got it: Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking 'What's wrong?' For the woman's response refer to #3.
Aren't they just so sweet, the dears? I would just like to add, for any man who hasn't quite got it yet, that if you provoke a woman into saying 'fine' often enough, she will probably divorce you. I mean, der!
The Snowman
The girls were taken off camping this weekend by a dear friend who recognised that this was the only way the little angels would ever get a taste of life under canvas. I could just about manage a camper van, if there were enough Cath Kidston accessories thrown in, but I could certainly never cope with erecting a tent or sleeping on the ground. For me, the whole point of the past 2,000 years of evolution has been to leave sleeping outside in close proximity to plastic way, way behind.
In the absence of the cherubs, phase two of the revamping of the back garden was effortlessly accomplished (mainly by my wonderful chum Landscaping Mum - naturally I spent the time in Homebase, with one finger on my chin, faffing about between different colours of gravel while she dug, hoed, planted, watered, shifted great bags of manure around with a flick of her wrist and generally got the whole thing done).
I've looked through all my pictures to see if I can stun you with before and after shots, like they do in all the best decorating shows, but unfortunately the garden was such a wasteland before that there isn't a single proper snap of it, just the odd one of the offspring bouncing on the trampoline with a bit of mangled shrub in the background. Never mind, just imagine an unloved wilderness suddenly turning into this:
Isn't it pretty? I am so thrilled, even though another friend who has recently been landscaped says it's the equivalent of taking on a small dog, in terms of maintenance, grooming and general training.
Everything in the garden would truly be rosy if I could just get the little dears under control. They came back from camping very full of beans (literally) and disappeared outside. How lovely, I thought, they're appreciating it already. But no. I may see the new garden as a little bower of bliss outside my kitchen windows. They see it, after a bit of judicious rearranging of my newly-bought allegedly Cornish cobble stones, like this:
A snowman indeed! Harrumph!
In the absence of the cherubs, phase two of the revamping of the back garden was effortlessly accomplished (mainly by my wonderful chum Landscaping Mum - naturally I spent the time in Homebase, with one finger on my chin, faffing about between different colours of gravel while she dug, hoed, planted, watered, shifted great bags of manure around with a flick of her wrist and generally got the whole thing done).
I've looked through all my pictures to see if I can stun you with before and after shots, like they do in all the best decorating shows, but unfortunately the garden was such a wasteland before that there isn't a single proper snap of it, just the odd one of the offspring bouncing on the trampoline with a bit of mangled shrub in the background. Never mind, just imagine an unloved wilderness suddenly turning into this:
Isn't it pretty? I am so thrilled, even though another friend who has recently been landscaped says it's the equivalent of taking on a small dog, in terms of maintenance, grooming and general training.
Everything in the garden would truly be rosy if I could just get the little dears under control. They came back from camping very full of beans (literally) and disappeared outside. How lovely, I thought, they're appreciating it already. But no. I may see the new garden as a little bower of bliss outside my kitchen windows. They see it, after a bit of judicious rearranging of my newly-bought allegedly Cornish cobble stones, like this:
A snowman indeed! Harrumph!
Sunday, 19 July 2009
Dishy
Thanks to Joanne at Parentdish for including me in the Friday round-up. I'm a bit slow off the mark with the link (well, it's the summer holidays .....I can hardly get up before 11 these days) but here it is: http://www.parentdish.co.uk/2009/07/17/mummy-bloggers-friday-roundup/
Wednesday, 15 July 2009
Sexy ladies
I got the shock of my life when I popped in to tend my blog last night. There, just under my last post, was a large advert with a banner headline saying: 'Sexy Arab Ladies.' I must admit I did a double-take. How on earth had that got there? I am used to seeing the little Google ads running above the most recent post, a lot of which advertise moth killer or duvet cleaning services, which I find quite quaint and funny. Advertising sexy Arab ladies is quite another matter. Apart from anything else, it seems really racist.
I immediately removed the ad, but not before noticing that it had made $0.17 in one day. For me, this is a total fortune - I think in the whole of last year, I probably made $6 with my moth and duvet act. Nevertheless, I think I'll stay poor but happy - and honest.
I must admit I am baffled by the whole thing. No doubt I did click some button somewhere which enabled ads within the blog itself instead of just the small lines of type at the top. But I am sure I would have asked for content appropriate to the blog. Could those chaps at GoogleAds somehow have misunderstood my references to 'my girls' or to my own eternal search for True Love? Do they imagine I am running some sort of brothel in the leafy confines of Dulwich? Are my tales of angst at the school gates being looked on as some sort of extremely bizarre kinky foreplay?
Even if I were the madam of the world's least successful house of ill fame, I can't imagine who would come to my blog to replenish their stock of sexy ladies, of whatever racial background. The vast majority of my readers are women, mostly with children in tow. Occasionally, very, very occasionally, a man does reveal himself by leaving a comment, but I usually scare him away in double-quick time with my effortless natural talent at man-repelling. I don't think many of them hang around long enough to start feeling that they are in the mood for, ahem, lurrrve. If, though, the ad was for Sexy Women who can do the gardening or take the rubbish out, then maybe some of us ladies would be interested in a helping hand. No double entendres intended! Otherwise, forget it, Google ads.
Now, who's going to own up to clicking on that ad?
Right, I'm off to Argos to get a spade. Yes, it's non-stop sexy glamour escort girls here, I tell you. Just got to switch that red light off on the way out ....
I immediately removed the ad, but not before noticing that it had made $0.17 in one day. For me, this is a total fortune - I think in the whole of last year, I probably made $6 with my moth and duvet act. Nevertheless, I think I'll stay poor but happy - and honest.
I must admit I am baffled by the whole thing. No doubt I did click some button somewhere which enabled ads within the blog itself instead of just the small lines of type at the top. But I am sure I would have asked for content appropriate to the blog. Could those chaps at GoogleAds somehow have misunderstood my references to 'my girls' or to my own eternal search for True Love? Do they imagine I am running some sort of brothel in the leafy confines of Dulwich? Are my tales of angst at the school gates being looked on as some sort of extremely bizarre kinky foreplay?
Even if I were the madam of the world's least successful house of ill fame, I can't imagine who would come to my blog to replenish their stock of sexy ladies, of whatever racial background. The vast majority of my readers are women, mostly with children in tow. Occasionally, very, very occasionally, a man does reveal himself by leaving a comment, but I usually scare him away in double-quick time with my effortless natural talent at man-repelling. I don't think many of them hang around long enough to start feeling that they are in the mood for, ahem, lurrrve. If, though, the ad was for Sexy Women who can do the gardening or take the rubbish out, then maybe some of us ladies would be interested in a helping hand. No double entendres intended! Otherwise, forget it, Google ads.
Now, who's going to own up to clicking on that ad?
Right, I'm off to Argos to get a spade. Yes, it's non-stop sexy glamour escort girls here, I tell you. Just got to switch that red light off on the way out ....
Prize giving
Right, now those school prize givings are over, I'm elbowing the headmistress out of the way and having my very own private prize giving ceremony. I swish up to the podium in my finest fishtail taffeta - in emerald green, since you ask. Around my neck is a simple choker of precious stones, given to me by TL. I clear my throat. I begin.
Some of my adorable friends have seen fit to honour little me (tiny, modest cough, and the merest fetching hint of a blush - not a menopausal tide of puce, definitely not) with some of the finest blogging awards known to, er, bloggers. First of all, thank you so much to dearest Coding Mama Tasha and to the lovely Mum-E for the Honest Scrap award, which I shall display with tremendous pride on my virtual mantlepiece.
With this award, I must choose 7 other blogs to pass the coveted gong onto, and list 10 facts about myself as well. I rustle with the traditional golden envelope. Unbearable tension in the audience. Someone coughs nervously. I frown at them, (though obviously not in a way which would cause what l'Oreal calls 'deep wrinkles') then rip the envelope open.
My seven other bloggers are:
MelRoxx Maternal Tales Half Mum Half Biscuit It's a Small World Rosiero Dancinfairy Perfectly Happy Mum
Ten facts about me
I lived Abroad for eight years.
I was put up a class in infants' school but no-one explained the sums to me and I've been a bit confused ever since.
I speak fluent French.
I'm learning ballroom dancing and recently came 5th in a Merengue competition! Admittedly there were only 7 people involved.
I get very ratty when I am too hot. Or too cold. Or if it's windy/rainy/snowy or cloudy.
I have an honours degree in Modern History and adore Simon Schama, even after Dead Ringers made him look like a mincing ninny in a too-tight leather jacket.
I hate going on holiday and would almost always rather stay at home.
I am never happier than when clearing out a cupboard.
I could easily spend all day in bed eating chocolate.
I am very lucky.
Now I turn to the gorgeous Maternal Tales, who has given me a lovely award for Words like Roses - very poetic! I am not entirely sure I am worthy. I ought, really, to make up an ode at least to grace my acceptance speech. But, after careful consideration, I've decided to spare you this time. My only task, therefore, is to pass the baton on to five others.
And the five are (rustle, rustle, as I drop envelope, pick it up, rifle through it and finally drag out the winning names): Diaries of a desperate exmoor woman Have a lovely time Are we nearly there yet mummy? Crystal Jigsaw Potty Mummy.
And, without further ado, I come to the end of the prize giving ceremony for this summer, with a tag from both Mum's the Word and It's a Small World.
8 Things I’m looking forward to The school holidays - lovely, lovely lie-ins
Our holiday in Sweden - though I don't really like leaving home, the cottage we're going to in Sweden looks gorgeous.
Visiting my great friend in Wales with my girls and another old friend. High jinks!
Re-reading The Leopard for my book group. An excellent choice, though I do say so myself! Seeing my younger brother and his family in early August
Watching the garden being landscaped, starting on Thursday!
Going ahead with some fitted cupboards - yes, my life really is this exciting!
A large glass of cold Chardonnay this evening
8 Things I did yesterday Took girls to Bluewater
Bought icing piping set - why oh why?
Bought enormous plastic lemon-shaped box to store .... bits of lemon in. Losing plot completely. Let the girls try on EVERYTHING in H&M - they were so happy
Found a T-shirt that Child Two looks lovely in - for £1!
Dragged everyone round Sainsbury's even though we were exhausted.
Found bottle of rosewater and the saffron.
Used Ottolenghi cookbook for the first time to make butternut squash couscous. Delicious!
8 Things I wish I could do
The splits
Leave things untidy
Finish novel number 2 - or at least edit the first draft
Lose a stone with no effort involved (and certainly no diminution in my chocolate peanut intake) Persuade the girls that it is possible to use public transport.
Travel light
Carry a tune
Take things less seriously
8 Favourite fruits ( I seriously can't believe anyone cares what fruit I prefer but it's part of the tag so ....)
Italian peaches
English strawberries
Scottish raspberries
Mangoes
Pineapple
Clementines
Cherries
8 Places I’d like to travel (I’m not mad keen on travelling so this is a stretch - most of these I've been to before and wouldn't mind going back if I was forced and someone did the packing for me) Sienna Sicily Paris Vienna Warsaw Sweden New York Lake District
8 Places I’ve lived
Birmingham!
Blackheath
St Andrews
Stockwell
Borough
Kentish Town
Clapham
Dulwich
8 Lovely people I’m tagging. Littlemummy Lulu er .... do you know what, I'm simply exhausted. If there's anyone out there who hasn't done this and would like to, then please feel very free. Likewise, if any of my nominees have already had their tags/awards, then please don't feel obliged. I think we could all do with a little lie down. So without further ado, I shall just thank everyone who knows me and I shall sashay off in my fishtail frock. And I most definitely will not fall over.
Some of my adorable friends have seen fit to honour little me (tiny, modest cough, and the merest fetching hint of a blush - not a menopausal tide of puce, definitely not) with some of the finest blogging awards known to, er, bloggers. First of all, thank you so much to dearest Coding Mama Tasha and to the lovely Mum-E for the Honest Scrap award, which I shall display with tremendous pride on my virtual mantlepiece.
With this award, I must choose 7 other blogs to pass the coveted gong onto, and list 10 facts about myself as well. I rustle with the traditional golden envelope. Unbearable tension in the audience. Someone coughs nervously. I frown at them, (though obviously not in a way which would cause what l'Oreal calls 'deep wrinkles') then rip the envelope open.
My seven other bloggers are:
MelRoxx Maternal Tales Half Mum Half Biscuit It's a Small World Rosiero Dancinfairy Perfectly Happy Mum
Ten facts about me
I lived Abroad for eight years.
I was put up a class in infants' school but no-one explained the sums to me and I've been a bit confused ever since.
I speak fluent French.
I'm learning ballroom dancing and recently came 5th in a Merengue competition! Admittedly there were only 7 people involved.
I get very ratty when I am too hot. Or too cold. Or if it's windy/rainy/snowy or cloudy.
I have an honours degree in Modern History and adore Simon Schama, even after Dead Ringers made him look like a mincing ninny in a too-tight leather jacket.
I hate going on holiday and would almost always rather stay at home.
I am never happier than when clearing out a cupboard.
I could easily spend all day in bed eating chocolate.
I am very lucky.
Now I turn to the gorgeous Maternal Tales, who has given me a lovely award for Words like Roses - very poetic! I am not entirely sure I am worthy. I ought, really, to make up an ode at least to grace my acceptance speech. But, after careful consideration, I've decided to spare you this time. My only task, therefore, is to pass the baton on to five others.
And the five are (rustle, rustle, as I drop envelope, pick it up, rifle through it and finally drag out the winning names): Diaries of a desperate exmoor woman Have a lovely time Are we nearly there yet mummy? Crystal Jigsaw Potty Mummy.
And, without further ado, I come to the end of the prize giving ceremony for this summer, with a tag from both Mum's the Word and It's a Small World.
8 Things I’m looking forward to The school holidays - lovely, lovely lie-ins
Our holiday in Sweden - though I don't really like leaving home, the cottage we're going to in Sweden looks gorgeous.
Visiting my great friend in Wales with my girls and another old friend. High jinks!
Re-reading The Leopard for my book group. An excellent choice, though I do say so myself! Seeing my younger brother and his family in early August
Watching the garden being landscaped, starting on Thursday!
Going ahead with some fitted cupboards - yes, my life really is this exciting!
A large glass of cold Chardonnay this evening
8 Things I did yesterday Took girls to Bluewater
Bought icing piping set - why oh why?
Bought enormous plastic lemon-shaped box to store .... bits of lemon in. Losing plot completely. Let the girls try on EVERYTHING in H&M - they were so happy
Found a T-shirt that Child Two looks lovely in - for £1!
Dragged everyone round Sainsbury's even though we were exhausted.
Found bottle of rosewater and the saffron.
Used Ottolenghi cookbook for the first time to make butternut squash couscous. Delicious!
8 Things I wish I could do
The splits
Leave things untidy
Finish novel number 2 - or at least edit the first draft
Lose a stone with no effort involved (and certainly no diminution in my chocolate peanut intake) Persuade the girls that it is possible to use public transport.
Travel light
Carry a tune
Take things less seriously
8 Favourite fruits ( I seriously can't believe anyone cares what fruit I prefer but it's part of the tag so ....)
Italian peaches
English strawberries
Scottish raspberries
Mangoes
Pineapple
Clementines
Cherries
8 Places I’d like to travel (I’m not mad keen on travelling so this is a stretch - most of these I've been to before and wouldn't mind going back if I was forced and someone did the packing for me) Sienna Sicily Paris Vienna Warsaw Sweden New York Lake District
8 Places I’ve lived
Birmingham!
Blackheath
St Andrews
Stockwell
Borough
Kentish Town
Clapham
Dulwich
8 Lovely people I’m tagging. Littlemummy Lulu er .... do you know what, I'm simply exhausted. If there's anyone out there who hasn't done this and would like to, then please feel very free. Likewise, if any of my nominees have already had their tags/awards, then please don't feel obliged. I think we could all do with a little lie down. So without further ado, I shall just thank everyone who knows me and I shall sashay off in my fishtail frock. And I most definitely will not fall over.
Tuesday, 14 July 2009
Now read this ...
Something very odd is happening. It is Day Two of the summer holidays, a moment when, for many years past, I have been an exhausted wreck already doodling '3rd September' on the telephone pad and looking yearningly at the Back To School pencil case displays in the supermarkets.
But today, here I am in front of the computer, with my little dears upstairs. Reading! OMG!! Yes, I know, it's tempting to assume they have been sucked up into an alien spaceship overnight, where they are rapidly putting the would-be new rulers of our planet off the idea of invasion far more effectively than any nuclear deterrent ever could, leaving two little dopplegangers pretending to turn the pages chez moi. But no, I checked them thoroughly for signs of strange flourescent glow when I saw them briefly at breakfast hours ago, and both looked pretty normal. They both felt like doing a bit of reading, they said.
Of course, this is wonderful, and gives me a tremendous glow of parently pride. There they are, the darlings, expanding their minds, widening their horizons and vocabulary simultaneously, and all I had to do was to drag them through Jolly Phonics, the Oxford Reading Tree, the interminable Rainbow Fairies series, by way of Horrid Henry, Harry Potter and Twilight, to get to this peaceful spot. It just couldn't be better.
Except for one pretty crucial matter. You see, if they're off entertaining themselves, where does that leave me? Er, utterly denuded of my usual excuse for accomplishing so little, that's where.
Usually, you see, it goes like this. My new novel? Obviously I can't correct the first draft of the opening chapters (which have gone horribly wrong and need major surgery) as I am Too Busy With The Children. Washing? It'll just have to pile up until it reaches the ceiling. Returning phone calls? Organising barbecues? Please! With two children on my hands all day long, how can I possibly get any of this stuff done? Well? Well???
Well, actually, all too easily, if they stay in their rooms reading tidily. I could have zipped through the draft this morning, I could have made those calls, I could have organised 50 barbecues before 11 o'clock. So, what have I done instead?
Er, well, I've been reading too, if you must know. Zoe Heller's The Believers, actually. Fantastic book. You should definitely read it. If you get the chance, that is.....
But today, here I am in front of the computer, with my little dears upstairs. Reading! OMG!! Yes, I know, it's tempting to assume they have been sucked up into an alien spaceship overnight, where they are rapidly putting the would-be new rulers of our planet off the idea of invasion far more effectively than any nuclear deterrent ever could, leaving two little dopplegangers pretending to turn the pages chez moi. But no, I checked them thoroughly for signs of strange flourescent glow when I saw them briefly at breakfast hours ago, and both looked pretty normal. They both felt like doing a bit of reading, they said.
Of course, this is wonderful, and gives me a tremendous glow of parently pride. There they are, the darlings, expanding their minds, widening their horizons and vocabulary simultaneously, and all I had to do was to drag them through Jolly Phonics, the Oxford Reading Tree, the interminable Rainbow Fairies series, by way of Horrid Henry, Harry Potter and Twilight, to get to this peaceful spot. It just couldn't be better.
Except for one pretty crucial matter. You see, if they're off entertaining themselves, where does that leave me? Er, utterly denuded of my usual excuse for accomplishing so little, that's where.
Usually, you see, it goes like this. My new novel? Obviously I can't correct the first draft of the opening chapters (which have gone horribly wrong and need major surgery) as I am Too Busy With The Children. Washing? It'll just have to pile up until it reaches the ceiling. Returning phone calls? Organising barbecues? Please! With two children on my hands all day long, how can I possibly get any of this stuff done? Well? Well???
Well, actually, all too easily, if they stay in their rooms reading tidily. I could have zipped through the draft this morning, I could have made those calls, I could have organised 50 barbecues before 11 o'clock. So, what have I done instead?
Er, well, I've been reading too, if you must know. Zoe Heller's The Believers, actually. Fantastic book. You should definitely read it. If you get the chance, that is.....
Tuesday, 7 July 2009
Prize Giving
Right, now those school prize givings are over, I'm elbowing the headmistress out of the way and having my very own private prize giving ceremony.
I swish up to the podium in my finest fishtail taffeta - in emerald green, since you ask. Around my neck is a simple choker of precious stones, given to me by TL. I clear my throat. I begin.
Some of my adorable friends have seen fit to honour little me (tiny, modest cough, and the merest fetching hint of a blush - not a menopausal tide of puce, definitely not) with some of the finest blogging awards known to, er, bloggers. First of all, thank you so much to dearest Coding Mama Tasha and to the lovely Mum-E for the Honest Scrap award, which I shall display with tremendous pride on my virtual mantlepiece. With this award, I must choose 7 other blogs to pass the coveted gong onto, and list 10 facts about myself as well.
I rustle with the traditional golden envelope. Unbearable tension in the audience. Someone coughs nervously. I frown at them, (though obviously not in a way which would cause what l'Oreal calls 'deep wrinkles') then rip the envelope open.
My seven other bloggers:
MelRoxx
Maternal Tales
Half Mum Half Biscuit
It's a Small World
Rosiero
Dancinfairy
Perfectly Happy Mum
Ten facts about me
I lived Abroad for eight years.
I was put up a class in infants' school but no-one explained the sums to me and I've been a bit confused ever since.
I speak fluent French.
I'm learning ballroom dancing and recently came 5th in a Merengue competition! Admittedly there were only 7 people involved.
I get very ratty when I am too hot. Or too cold. Or if it's windy/rainy/snowy or cloudy.
I have an honours degree in Modern History and adore Simon Schama, even after Dead Ringers made him look like a mincing ninny in a too-tight leather jacket.
I hate going on holiday and would almost always rather stay at home.
I am never happier than when clearing out a cupboard.
I could easily spend all day in bed eating chocolate.
I am very lucky.
Now I turn to the gorgeous Maternal Tales, who has given me a lovely award for Words like Roses - very poetic! I am not entirely sure I am worthy. I ought, really, to make up an ode at least to grace my acceptance speech. But, after careful consideration, I've decided to spare you this time. My only task, therefore, is to pass the baton on to five others.
And the five are (rustle, rustle, as I drop envelope, pick it up, rifle through it and finally drag out the winning names):
Diaries of a desperate exmoor woman
Have a lovely time
Are we nearly there yet mummy?
Crystal Jigsaw
Potty Mummy.
And, without further ado, I come to the end of the prize giving ceremony for this summer, with a tag from both Mum's the Word and It's a Small World.
8 Things I’m looking forward to
The school holidays - lovely, lovely lie-ins
Our holiday in Sweden - though I don't really like leaving home, the cottage we're going to in Sweden looks gorgeous.
Visiting my great friend in Wales with my girls and another old friend. High jinks!
Re-reading The Leopard for my book group. An excellent choice, though I do say so myself!
Seeing my younger brother and his family in early August
Watching the garden being landscaped, starting on Thursday!
Going ahead with some fitted cupboards - yes, my life really is this exciting!
A large glass of cold Chardonnay this evening
8 Things I did yesterday
Took girls to Bluewater
Bought icing piping set - why oh why?
Bought enormous plastic lemon-shaped box to store .... bits of lemon in. Losing plot completely.
Let the girls try on EVERYTHING in H&M - they were so happy
Found a T-shirt that Child Two looks lovely in - for £1!
Dragged everyone round Sainsbury's even though we were exhausted.
Found bottle of rosewater and the saffron.
Used Ottolenghi cookbook for the first time to make butternut squash couscous. Delicious!
8 Things I wish I could do
The splits
Leave things untidy
Finish novel number 2 - or at least edit the first draft
Lose a stone with no effort involved (and certainly no diminution in my chocolate peanut intake)
Persuade the girls that it is possible to use public transport.
Travel light
Carry a tune
Take things less seriously
8 Favourite fruits ( I seriously can't believe anyone cares what fruit I prefer but it's part of the tag so ....)
Italian peaches
English strawberries
Scottish raspberries
Mangoes
Pineapple
Clementines
Cherries
8 Places I’d like to travel (I’m not mad keen on travelling so this is a stretch - most of these I've been to before and wouldn't mind going back if I was forced and someone did the packing for me)
Sienna
Sicily
Paris
Vienna
Warsaw
Sweden
New York
Lake District
8 Places I’ve lived
Birmingham!
Blackheath
St Andrews
Stockwell
Borough
Kentish Town
Clapham
Dulwich
8 Lovely people I’m tagging.
Littlemummy
Lulu
er .... do you know what, I'm simply exhausted. If there's anyone out there who hasn't done this and would like to, then please feel very free. Likewise, if any of my nominees have already had their tags/awards, then please don't feel obliged. I think we could all do with a little lie down.
So without further ado, I shall just thank everyone who knows me and I shall sashay off in my fishtail frock. And I most definitely will not fall over.
I swish up to the podium in my finest fishtail taffeta - in emerald green, since you ask. Around my neck is a simple choker of precious stones, given to me by TL. I clear my throat. I begin.
Some of my adorable friends have seen fit to honour little me (tiny, modest cough, and the merest fetching hint of a blush - not a menopausal tide of puce, definitely not) with some of the finest blogging awards known to, er, bloggers. First of all, thank you so much to dearest Coding Mama Tasha and to the lovely Mum-E for the Honest Scrap award, which I shall display with tremendous pride on my virtual mantlepiece. With this award, I must choose 7 other blogs to pass the coveted gong onto, and list 10 facts about myself as well.
I rustle with the traditional golden envelope. Unbearable tension in the audience. Someone coughs nervously. I frown at them, (though obviously not in a way which would cause what l'Oreal calls 'deep wrinkles') then rip the envelope open.
My seven other bloggers:
MelRoxx
Maternal Tales
Half Mum Half Biscuit
It's a Small World
Rosiero
Dancinfairy
Perfectly Happy Mum
Ten facts about me
I lived Abroad for eight years.
I was put up a class in infants' school but no-one explained the sums to me and I've been a bit confused ever since.
I speak fluent French.
I'm learning ballroom dancing and recently came 5th in a Merengue competition! Admittedly there were only 7 people involved.
I get very ratty when I am too hot. Or too cold. Or if it's windy/rainy/snowy or cloudy.
I have an honours degree in Modern History and adore Simon Schama, even after Dead Ringers made him look like a mincing ninny in a too-tight leather jacket.
I hate going on holiday and would almost always rather stay at home.
I am never happier than when clearing out a cupboard.
I could easily spend all day in bed eating chocolate.
I am very lucky.
Now I turn to the gorgeous Maternal Tales, who has given me a lovely award for Words like Roses - very poetic! I am not entirely sure I am worthy. I ought, really, to make up an ode at least to grace my acceptance speech. But, after careful consideration, I've decided to spare you this time. My only task, therefore, is to pass the baton on to five others.
And the five are (rustle, rustle, as I drop envelope, pick it up, rifle through it and finally drag out the winning names):
Diaries of a desperate exmoor woman
Have a lovely time
Are we nearly there yet mummy?
Crystal Jigsaw
Potty Mummy.
And, without further ado, I come to the end of the prize giving ceremony for this summer, with a tag from both Mum's the Word and It's a Small World.
8 Things I’m looking forward to
The school holidays - lovely, lovely lie-ins
Our holiday in Sweden - though I don't really like leaving home, the cottage we're going to in Sweden looks gorgeous.
Visiting my great friend in Wales with my girls and another old friend. High jinks!
Re-reading The Leopard for my book group. An excellent choice, though I do say so myself!
Seeing my younger brother and his family in early August
Watching the garden being landscaped, starting on Thursday!
Going ahead with some fitted cupboards - yes, my life really is this exciting!
A large glass of cold Chardonnay this evening
8 Things I did yesterday
Took girls to Bluewater
Bought icing piping set - why oh why?
Bought enormous plastic lemon-shaped box to store .... bits of lemon in. Losing plot completely.
Let the girls try on EVERYTHING in H&M - they were so happy
Found a T-shirt that Child Two looks lovely in - for £1!
Dragged everyone round Sainsbury's even though we were exhausted.
Found bottle of rosewater and the saffron.
Used Ottolenghi cookbook for the first time to make butternut squash couscous. Delicious!
8 Things I wish I could do
The splits
Leave things untidy
Finish novel number 2 - or at least edit the first draft
Lose a stone with no effort involved (and certainly no diminution in my chocolate peanut intake)
Persuade the girls that it is possible to use public transport.
Travel light
Carry a tune
Take things less seriously
8 Favourite fruits ( I seriously can't believe anyone cares what fruit I prefer but it's part of the tag so ....)
Italian peaches
English strawberries
Scottish raspberries
Mangoes
Pineapple
Clementines
Cherries
8 Places I’d like to travel (I’m not mad keen on travelling so this is a stretch - most of these I've been to before and wouldn't mind going back if I was forced and someone did the packing for me)
Sienna
Sicily
Paris
Vienna
Warsaw
Sweden
New York
Lake District
8 Places I’ve lived
Birmingham!
Blackheath
St Andrews
Stockwell
Borough
Kentish Town
Clapham
Dulwich
8 Lovely people I’m tagging.
Littlemummy
Lulu
er .... do you know what, I'm simply exhausted. If there's anyone out there who hasn't done this and would like to, then please feel very free. Likewise, if any of my nominees have already had their tags/awards, then please don't feel obliged. I think we could all do with a little lie down.
So without further ado, I shall just thank everyone who knows me and I shall sashay off in my fishtail frock. And I most definitely will not fall over.
Lady in waiting
As I sit here, waiting for those lovely chaps from John Lewis to deliver a new tumble drier, I realise a theme is emerging. I am also waiting for a Tesco delivery, which was supposed to come between 9 and 11.
The time is inching up to 10.47, and Tesco is playing with fire. I am very fickle with my supermarkets these days. I discovered that, if you get a couple of internet deliveries, from any of the big supermarkets, and then stop abruptly, they will start sending you money-off vouchers.
Ocado, being middle-class and, therefore, insecure and needy, begins almost immediately, pelting my inbox with desperate little love tokens (free model of an Ocado van? That is soooo not going to do it, guys. Try chocolate. Lots of it!). If you don't take pity and give in too soon, it will soon be waving quite healthy reductions at you. Tesco, being big and brash, is less bothered about one-order stands and takes months to realise you've even defected. When it finally clocks that you've been getting your trolley filled elsewhere, though, it will try and sweep you off your feet with an impressively large voucher. Sainsbury's I've found harder to fathom. I don't think I've ever actually managed to accomplish an order with Sainsbury's. I certainly did try, a couple of years ago, but I think it either crashed much too soon or simply went on and on forever with the checkout proceedure - both techniques sure to disappoint a girl.
Ah, if Lidl only delivered, then I'm sure I would be a one-store woman. Until then, I'm left to play the field. And wait. And wait!
The time is inching up to 10.47, and Tesco is playing with fire. I am very fickle with my supermarkets these days. I discovered that, if you get a couple of internet deliveries, from any of the big supermarkets, and then stop abruptly, they will start sending you money-off vouchers.
Ocado, being middle-class and, therefore, insecure and needy, begins almost immediately, pelting my inbox with desperate little love tokens (free model of an Ocado van? That is soooo not going to do it, guys. Try chocolate. Lots of it!). If you don't take pity and give in too soon, it will soon be waving quite healthy reductions at you. Tesco, being big and brash, is less bothered about one-order stands and takes months to realise you've even defected. When it finally clocks that you've been getting your trolley filled elsewhere, though, it will try and sweep you off your feet with an impressively large voucher. Sainsbury's I've found harder to fathom. I don't think I've ever actually managed to accomplish an order with Sainsbury's. I certainly did try, a couple of years ago, but I think it either crashed much too soon or simply went on and on forever with the checkout proceedure - both techniques sure to disappoint a girl.
Ah, if Lidl only delivered, then I'm sure I would be a one-store woman. Until then, I'm left to play the field. And wait. And wait!
Friday, 3 July 2009
What a to-do
I don't know about you, but things are beginning to get on top of me. School seems to have turned into a blur of summer fairs, recitals, sports day T-shirts needing finding, then ironing, concerts, very contentious prize-givings (why hasn't my lubly Child Two got one, may I just ask? Grrrrr!). Meanwhile, holiday plans with Mr X are completely on the blink, the garden hasn't been done in an age (thank God all the weeds have died in the heatwave), my trusty Dyson has barely seen the light of day all week (and that's a long, long time for me) and, though I painted my front door in a fit of manic enthusiasm on Monday, I can't really ignore the fact that it is extremely lumpy and I shall probably now have to pay someone to do it properly. Mind you, it did serve its purpose at the time of keeping my windmilling mind off the dire fates which would befall Child Two's bete noire, if I ever got my hands on her, that is.
Added to all that, I also have a whole list of things I really ought to blog about. While this is lovely, in a way - though I have never yet suffered blog-block, I live in fear of the fear, which is just ridiculously typical. So a queue of possible posts is, in one way, a godsend. In another, it's just one more nagging to-do list.
Today, I hardly have time to type even this as I've got to go and listen to Child Two singing in the choir and restrain myself from machine-gunning the teaching staff, which will be no mean feat. So I'll just quickly mention those darling folk at HP, who are the proud producers of my printer. This would be printing away merrily as we speak, if I hadn't ordered the wrong ink cartridges. Doh! It even says the right number on the Front of the Instructions, it couldn't really make things any easier. But of course I ordered something totally different and now face the boredom of sending it back and getting the right one. Sigh.
Printing our mugs was better. You have to go to a separate website to do this, called Snapfish, where you can download all manner of photo albums, cards and bitty bobs. HP gave me credits to get two mugs, and I also got two for TL's littlies. They are all Disney - my specialist subject these days - and I was treated to a good half-hour of my girls bickering over which princesses to put on their mugs. How it took me back to the arguments of yore! Once they had decided (one Ariel, one Cinderella) we had to select photos and crop them into the space, which took about an hour and was a bit painful. A day later, the mugs arrived, and have been much loved ever since. We are also supposed to be doing a photo album but I shall have to lie down for a bit to recover before broaching the website again.
That's all for now. Keep watching the news - if a Dulwich woman is arrested for a string of teacher murders, you'll know who it was!
Added to all that, I also have a whole list of things I really ought to blog about. While this is lovely, in a way - though I have never yet suffered blog-block, I live in fear of the fear, which is just ridiculously typical. So a queue of possible posts is, in one way, a godsend. In another, it's just one more nagging to-do list.
Today, I hardly have time to type even this as I've got to go and listen to Child Two singing in the choir and restrain myself from machine-gunning the teaching staff, which will be no mean feat. So I'll just quickly mention those darling folk at HP, who are the proud producers of my printer. This would be printing away merrily as we speak, if I hadn't ordered the wrong ink cartridges. Doh! It even says the right number on the Front of the Instructions, it couldn't really make things any easier. But of course I ordered something totally different and now face the boredom of sending it back and getting the right one. Sigh.
Printing our mugs was better. You have to go to a separate website to do this, called Snapfish, where you can download all manner of photo albums, cards and bitty bobs. HP gave me credits to get two mugs, and I also got two for TL's littlies. They are all Disney - my specialist subject these days - and I was treated to a good half-hour of my girls bickering over which princesses to put on their mugs. How it took me back to the arguments of yore! Once they had decided (one Ariel, one Cinderella) we had to select photos and crop them into the space, which took about an hour and was a bit painful. A day later, the mugs arrived, and have been much loved ever since. We are also supposed to be doing a photo album but I shall have to lie down for a bit to recover before broaching the website again.
That's all for now. Keep watching the news - if a Dulwich woman is arrested for a string of teacher murders, you'll know who it was!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
