Unfortunate Publications and Mrs B back in da Village

So last week when all the turmoil in Egypt first hit the news, this publication flumped throught the letterbox.  It is Mr Blighty's Civil Service Motoring Association magazine.  I can tell you are impressed.  It's a right racy read. Well no, it's not.  And this time poor old CSMA Club have been tripped up by international events messing with their content.  How very inconsiderate of those Egyptian chappies.  Trip of a lifetime anyone?

Not the best timing and I keep thinking that chap in white is Orlando Bloom, but maybe that's just me

For a while now, I have been struggling to get Boy 2 to embrace reading. Boy 1 was bitten by the reading bug a couple of years ago and now happily lies on his bed not doing his homework but engrossed in Artemis Fowl books which are all about a boy criminal mastermind. So important for boys to have good strong male role models.

I am actually quite happy with Artemis as previously there was a most trying flirtation with a series of books about Warrior Cats - yes, tribes of puddies with annoying names like Cinderpaw. It was beyond tragic, I had to bite my tongue when reading this tosh not to blurt out " The Black Metal Snake is a ROAD with CARS on it you stoooopid moggies and in the next chapter Fluffyplumpkins the Overlord is going to get flattened by a truck, so get over it!"




But Boy 2 has steadfastly remained aloof from this reading malarkey. He reads only on a "need to know" basis: instructions on computer games, cake wrappers and explosives manuals. But the other day we had a breakthrough. He came out of school clutching this and read it all the way home. I'll knock the lamppost back into shape later.




I announced this development triumphantly to Mr B over the phone. "What is the book called?" asked Mr B.

"Bone"
"Do hope that is not being used as a verb!" comments Mr B.   Not helpful Mr B. Back to the spare room.



Now below we have a little book I borrowed from our local library to help the boys with their French.  (I do wonder why those 2 are being let loose on another language when they have more than enough scope for atrocities against language with their mother tongue... "random" as the only adjective for example).

The story is in English at the top and French at the bottom.

Poignantly, the goldfish checks out early on in the book.

But do not be fooled by the English text.  Georges the goldfish is not being placed in a box for ceremonial burial in the old jardin.  Oh no.  This is the French we are dealing with!  Georges has been placed on a bed of lettuce, and dressed with a lemony vinaigrette, ready for the dinner table.  That lot would eat anything! There is no way they would waste a tasty morsel like Georges.  (Note to French Ambassador: no point writing to me to complain, try that Clarkson chap).

In other news,  yesterday I went back to Bicester Village, high end designer outlet and my Spiritual Home.

I did some thorough investigations in Gerard Darel. (The shop Mr B, don't start with all that again!)  I sinned and bought this lacy blouse.  At a huge discount of course. Yes Mr B, I do have other white tops.  But no, they are not exactly the same. And yes, I did need this one. 

 The dress below was in silk and with side pockets and made me think of FF.

 I sinned again and bought this polka dot dress.  Mr B can I just speed things up?  a)yes b) no c) yes.

 Below, this is in Joseph, these are samples and were a very good price.  I sinned again with the floaty tie front blouse.  A bargain and the ties will keep me busy all day working out how to tie them..a)yes b)no c) yes

One of the shop assistant ladies told me Kate Middleton comes to the Village and that she likesTemperley.  Also Liz Hurley drops by.  No sightings of Warnie yet, they don't sell beds in the Village.

Must go, got a goldfish to marinate.