Not suitable for people with irony deficiency and
cannot guarantee nut-free

Tuesday, 17 August 2010

Colour Me Beautiful and Other Things I find Worrying about my Wife

Good evening, Mr Blighty here. I have been entrusted with the drafting of this post under the Bloggers Spousal Delegation Act 2010. I trust you will find this post clear and easy to follow. I can assure you that it is compatible with the European Convention on Human Rights (I have been taking extra care in that respect following the controversial Clamping of People Walking Too Slowly in Urban City Centres Act).

Very occasionally (when she has been reading one of those women's magazines at the hairdressers) Mrs Blighty will ask me if after 11 years of marriage the mystery has gone from our relationship. I can quite confidently say that on the contrary, the mystery only deepens. Particularly the mystery of what on earth is going on in Mrs B's head.

As I am currently on holiday from my highly demanding and important job of keeping my semi-colons under control, I have been able to observe Mrs B's activities from close quarter. I have come to the following conclusions:

a) she is as nutty as a fruit cake with a side order of extra nuts;
b) she spends a lot of time talking about ironing but never actually doing it; and
c) she still has no real understanding of the best way to load the dishwasher.
When I pointed out her shortcomings on this latter point, her response further revealed her lack of expertise in this area - even if I could get it up there, it would not lead to cleaner dishes and would definitely breach Elf and Safety legislation.
Let me illustrate further the mystery that is Mrs B.
The other day I was sitting at the computer checking developments on my latest exciting piece of drafting, The Recycling of Dentures for Old Age Pensioners Act, when Mrs B rushed in from the library waving a book at me and shouting, "Come on Blighty, help me do my colours, I can't work out whether I'm light and warm or soft and clear!"

At that precise moment she looked quite pink and over-excited but I felt it would not be in my best interests to point that out.

Mrs B explained it was all to do with skin tone and she needed to decide what her's was. There were pictures of various celebrities illustrating the different types. "But don't you dare say I am like Judy B***dy Dench!" warned Mrs B. ( Mrs B always refers to the ubiquitous Miss Dench in these terms, on the grounds that Miss Dench is in every single film ever made and is always the same; personally I think Mrs B is jealous that Judy gets to play M in the Bond films and so meet that Craig bloke Mrs B seems to find so personable).

After prancing around with different coloured scarves and demanding whether they lit up her face and brought out her eyes (on stalks??), to which I answered "I suppose so" each time, she stumped off upstairs "to do the ironing". After about 10 mins she reappeared, waving her paws at me and trilling: "Look, I've painted my nails and they match my necklace and this vase". I dutifully took a picture before pointing out she was going to find it a real pain carrying the vase round all day. Mrs B then announced that I did not know anything about fashion and swept off further to contemplate the ironing. Another thing which mystifies me about Mrs B is her approach to gardening; her lack of enthusiasm ("But I did gardening last year, surely it's not time to do it again?") is matched only by her lack of success. She was disgusted to find something had been eating the leaves of her hosta. There were dark mutterings about "those damn deer". Any deer better steer clear of Mrs B for a while. Unless it wants to end up in one of her "nourishing" stews.

Meanwhile anything Mrs B hasn't planted or "nurtured" (I use "nurture" in the loosest possible sense) flourishes with amazing, unstoppable vigour.

Mrs B got very very cross when this Miracle Gro thingie would not work. I found her in the most dreadful pickle trying to attach it to the hosepipe. I tried to calm her down by pointing out that the blue matched her nail varnish. She gave me a withering look. I thought about suggesting she tried spraying it on her chest, but she had the secateurs in her hand at the time.

I suggested a look at the trees at the bottom of the garden might calm her down. The beauty and majesty of nature and whatnot.

But what really did the trick was a little drink of this very fine wine. Mrs B and I drink only the best.

During her latest library visit Mrs B also sourced a couple of relaxation tapes for Boy 1. For some time now he has been doing the Dance of the Seven Bedtimes, coming downstairs to complain he can't get to sleep as he has been lying there for all of 3 mins/ it's too light/dark/the thread count in his sheets is not high enough, he needs silk pjs/his pillow needs spraying with lavender water etc.

"Rest and Sleep" is particularly hilarious. Each evening the house now echoes with a hypnotherapist lady saying in a monotone " Do you know how many muscles there are in your eyelids?" Sometimes you can catch Boy 1's abrupt reply of "Who cares!". The tape is doing the trick, however: he apparently lies in bed constructing unhealthy fantasies about how she is a serial killer before falling peacefully asleep.

Finally can someone please explain why Mrs B keeps leaving this brochure where ever I look? I have promised to buy her a leaf blower, what more could she want? Ah, the mystery that is Mrs B!

Note from the real Mr Blighty, this post was in fact drafted by Mrs Blighty masquerading as me. Further proof that she is nuts.
Further note - the above note was in fact drafted by Mrs B masquerading as......oh shut up


  1. OMG you are HILARIOUS Blighty. You had me sucked in at first.
    I reckon Mr B is as funny as you are - is he?
    Maybe we could put our heads together and invent a wonder pill for enlarging our breasts.
    As for determining colours, I've tried to and only ever feel stupid because I get horribly confused whether I'm actually cool, warm, summer winter hot or cold blah blah blah.
    Sending empathy re Boy 1's sleep habits. Every family has to have one child that is allergic to sleep otherwise you haven't lived!

  2. I never would have guessed you wrote that post yourself Blighty. ;)

  3. Love the guest post under the 'Bloggers Spousal Delegation Act 2010' Mr B. I am particularly jealous of your Sainsbury's Basic Rose- what very expensive taste you have!

  4. Loved your post Mr B, I hope it was a nice departure from your usual Very Important Work.

    I hope I won't be breaking any copyright legislation if I decide to incorporate the phrase "as nutty as a fruit cake with a side order of extra nuts" - it describes a few people I know perfectly!!

    xx Polly

    Oh, and I'm surprised Mrs B didn't also have a blue book to match with her vase, necklace and polish - this is her visionary fashion trend, don't you know?

  5. Enough already!Hilarious post- when are you going to write a book Mrs B?
    (Good luck with the heavy - handed hint dropping re watches)

  6. Hello Blighty, not actually able to make a coherent comment as am too busy rolling around the floor laughing!!!

  7. DeEr MiSTa BliteE,
    YoO ar a VeRRy FUnnEe. I ThinK yoO musT be Verry CleVa: BecOs, YoO MareeD MIssUs B; anD AlsO, YoO noW hOw tO yooS SeMi CollOns; YoO Tak GrAte FotOs of MiSSus B to.
    IS TheRe An OXfOrD SeMi-ColLon aS weLL aS The OXFord CoMMa?
    CHeErs MiStA B,
    FrOm ARNiE In TOWnSVIlLe. (BiG Eye GaZe To Yoo, I doN'T BarK)

    PEeE S. (MiSSuS B NeEds A HErMs ScaRf To KEeP WArm.

  8. Oh Blighty this post had me roaring, my approach to ironing is much the same as yours, it's so easy to get distracted! Love are truly unique!

  9. Mrs b you are a scream! That has brightened my whole day if not week! xx

  10. Helllloooo

    I LOVE the blue polish and the acquamarine ring- jealous! So nice with the vase.

    Can't believe some critter ate your hosta! Possums are always eating my blooms I loathe them, so selfish. Bare earth still there. No mulch. Disappointing...

    Your lovely card, article and my Valentino dvd arrived today- am a veritable Pig in Mud. Hooray and thankyou.

    Love the whole Colour Me Beautiful book esp those 2 crazy snaps of Liz Taylor. Tres amusing.

    Good Luck with the rolex. I had to wait 6 years and Whinge for the Country...

    Have become a veritable nana- I'm eating at 5.30 and tucking in early. Is the New Me. x

  11. thank you for the "Rest and Sleep" look behind the scenes! And for the idea of today's posting. Good entertainment I find here!

  12. Dear Mrs Blighty, This marvelous post had Mr LiC chortling for some time. I think he identifies heavily with Mr B - however Mr LiC's passion is Remaining Within Budget at work and at home. It is as well that we remain deep mysteries to our husbands as it keeps them on their toes. Yesterday, Mr LiC demonstrated that he too has unfathomable depths and presented me a propos of nothing with flowers for the first time in the 21 years we have been together. Whatever next?

  13. Just a quick comment from 'im indoors'. The dog is whining downstairs out of a deep sense of loss and loneliness as I am upstairs at the screen and keyboard on a sunny afternoon having discovered the Blighty blog lurking on my desktop. It lies in a forgotten corner of the screen along with the remains of a sticky boiled sweet, some fluff and a coloured paperclip. Rosemary recommended it to me but she has gone out shopping with her pals so I am flying solo. It's lovely to see such underlying gravitas as there's such a surfeit of frivolity around in these austere days. How heartening! I have a query about Mr B's lavish photo of the two glasses and bottle of Rose wine. Was the wine as opaque and smeary as it appears to be, or do I need to check my eyes for cataracts?
    from Himself.

  14. Dear 'Im Indoors, welcome and thank you for your comments. Don't worry about your eyes, the wine really does look like that, but on the plus side you can run the lawnmower on it.

  15. Dear Mrs B.
    Re: my query about the 'smeary' wine (2 September). Thankyou for your prompt reply, I'm so relieved that my cataracts are not playing up and I have now cancelled my opticians appointment. Until now MrsB. I have used the internet for knowledge, enlightenment and guidance in helping me to deal with the vicissitudes and trials of daily life but today I have to own up to having had something of a setback whilst cutting the lawn. I was intrigued to hear that you ran your mower on the very same wine. it was almost a recommendation, so I had to test it this afternoon, after all this supermarket special promises to be so much cheaper than petrol. Well i filled up with the full 70cl for i have a largish lawn to cut. All went well at first Mrs.B., the first few cuts were good if a little slow, then it gradually speeded up alarmingly producing a deafening noise that scared the hell out of our charming dog and several elderly neighbours. I almost lost control but somehow managed to hang on as it charged erratically up and down the lawn and then began to slow down and come to a halt, chuntering to itself pathetically in a self absorbed sort of way leaving odd little wet patches on the lawn. Well Mrs B. the job was done but I can tell you it was a most disturbing experience. I was quite put out. Fortunately R. was out shopping with her pals again,she must never know about this assault on her precious lawn. I'm left wondering about the reasons for the machines strange behaviour, could it be some allergic reaction to your favourite Spanish wine or global warming, or perhaps my being near the lay line from Stonehenge to Glastonbury has something to do with it. I mention the above just in case you or Mr B. have noticed any similar effects. Regards and best wishes from 'Im Indoors.


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