Mother of two held for attempted murder

Buckinghamshire housewife Mrs Bledwina Blighty has been arrested in the Peak District on suspicion of the attempted murder of her husband.

According to our sources, Mrs Blighty had been acting strangely, recently increasing her husband's life insurance cover.  It is also reported that relations between the couple had been strained in past weeks due to what Mrs B described as "that bl**dy motorbike film".

Witnesses told police that Mrs Blighty insisted her husband accompany her on what she described as "a lovely, peaceful hike".

In a bizarre twist, it appears Mr Blighty is standing by his wife and will help her to clear her name.

Speaking to reporters outside Chesterfield police station he said, " I am confident this misunderstanding will be cleared up soon.  Bledwina only insisted that I wear a tweed deerstalker decorated with a number of feathers is so that I would fit in in the countryside; I was a little taken aback when she opted for a flak jacket and a tin hat but I respect her sartorial choices."

Dropping by Debo's

Dahlings, this post is dedicated to my first and favourite Blog Crush, the lovely Faux Fuchsia. 

In her honour I attempting it in the style of the FF blog.  But remember, at best this is Faux Fuchsia Lite, do not settle for imitations, get the genuine designer article here.

So when ole FF came over to these here parts last year she and I took a little road trip to Swinbrook in the Cotswolds.  We checked out where the Mitford sisters grew up, the churchyard where Nancy Mitford is buried and the pub that Debo (the youngest and only surviving Mitford sister) owns.

Here's a visual of Nancy's gravestone.

Ole FF wanted also to hotfoot it up to the Peak District for the day, to see Chatsworth, the estate of which ole Debo became chatelaine, when she married the Duke of Devonshire.

But I had to explain it was too far.  I know. I was disappointed too.

But during my recent trip Up North, the Universe directed me to Live on the Edge and go to Chatsworth.  I do what I am told.

Here's Debo when young.

Here's Debo painted by ole Lucien Freud.  'Spensive.

Here's Debo photographed more recently. She now lives in the old vicarage on the Chatsworth Estate and is over 90 and quite frail. The house itself is now run by her son the Duke of Devonshire and his wife. They have an appartment on the first floor.

Here is a Singer Sargent portrait of an earlier Duchess of Devonshire, think she was called Eveyln.

Modern portrait of the Duke's daughter in law, Laura, Lady Burlington - reminds me of FF's pic on her blog

This wallpaper was handmade in China, based on measurements for the room and then sent back in huge rolls; it is apparently the Devil's Work to fit as it is a continuous, not a repeat, pattern

You can walk up these steps if you want; like most stately homes these days there were lots of modern sculptures scattered about the traps

This is the Imperial Fountain, one of the Dukes wanted a fountain higher than that of his friend, the Russian Tsar.  His friend refused to come see it.

The house was sumptuous.

This is what the outside looks like. Don't look at the scaffolding people, imagine it's not there.  That's what I did.

They have lots of bits.  I was ready to question their comittment to De-Cluttering, what with Clutter being the Devil's Work.  But I got talking to the waitress in our hotel and she told me they had had teams from Sotheby's worldwide staying with them for months, preparing a sale - the ole Duke and Duchess had decided to clear out one of their 5 attics.  The sale was a Big Deal.  Jerry Hall and Madonna came.  Exciting.  So glad they action de-cluttering too.

I was shocked, shocked I tell you at the Undercushioning on this bed.

Look! Ginger jars, just like FF has in the Fuchsiadome!

There you are People - Chatsworth.  

Run, don't Walk!

Important Parenting Advice from Mrs B

Dahlings, I need to share with you all a Parenting Top Tip.*


Here it is:
When you take small(ish, now getting bigger and even more bumptious) boys on hols, you MUST do your research thoroughly beforehand.

You MUST vet all names of local sights.

You may think a visit to Speedwell Cavern in the Peak District is a safe bet.  What you have overlooked is the existence of a combo ticket covering another cavern...with an unfortunate name.

Mmmmm, queueing for about 35 minutes with Boys 1 and 2 jubilantly shouting "ARSE!" every couple of seconds.

Pure class.

It's a good job they had hard hats on; it wasn't low overhanging rocks they needed protecting from, after their exuberant display of parenting failure..

Eventually the ArseFest stopped and we went down the cavern, a former lead mine.

I cheered up at tales of the child miners (a 4 year old worked the bellows providing the miners with air and other children dug for lead with candles clamped in their mouths; candles made with tallow that rotted their teeth and eventually their stomachs.  The average life expectancy of a miner was 27).

But it wasn't all doom and gloom.

There was something in the tour for everyone, even Mrs B.

* This Parenting Top Tip will rank alongside my other PTT which you can find here

Dates, Sticky and Otherwise

Morning Dahlings!

Before I forget, the lovely Annie from Queensland has started her own blog, it is fab, very inspiring, check it out!  http://redrosesandcrystal.blogspot.com/

I am attempting a new approach to bloggitisation*!   Little and a bit more often.  We'll see how long this lasts!


A couple of weeks ago at Blighty HQ we were all about dates.

First Grandma Whacker was en residence to celebrate her Birthday.

You might think this is a pic of the Birthday Cake but in fact it's a life sized model of Grandma Whacker herself. 

I dare not tell you how old she is now.  372.  Remarkable.

Then it was our Wedding Anniversary, with the usual gloomy comments from Mr B about serving less time for murder.

The card read: "Happy Wedding Anniversary Mrs B, can I have my passport back now?"

And then very excitingly, Mr B took me on a surprise date.  I did not know where he was taking me.  I was All Agog and Stuff.

He drove me to Berkhamsted, to an old Art Deco cinema called The Rex.

The seats are big and plush, or if you sit lower down, you can eat and drink at tables while watching the film.

I knew they were showing a French film "Potiche" - with old Gerard Depardieu and Catherine Deneuve.

I don't know quite how to break this to you all.  Here goes.

Mr B had selected a film about motorbike racing on the Isle of Man.

I am NOT making this up.

It is the first time I have been speechless for years.
(Maybe that's why he did it).

Happy Wedding Anniversary Mr B.  Hope you sleep well in the spare room...

*ok, I made that word up, I just enjoy winding up the spellcheck gismo. In the same way I enjoy deliberately going the wrong way in the car and listening to Tim the Sat Nag going bonkers - "Turn around when possible. Turn around when possible. I SAID TURN AROUND NOW, YOU HAVE RUINED EVERYTHING!!!!!" What can I say, I am a natural rebel and Tim is such an uptight little fusspot).

Shock horror skool hols rampage parents beg UN to intervene

Dahlings!  Boys 1 and 2 are STILL on holiday but I am bearing up well though I can't wait for the little blighters to go back to school and every moment spent with them is precious especially when one of them (or if I am lucky, both) shout "BOGEY" at the top of their voices in the middle of the street.

This is what I look like now, thanks to the whole skool hols experience.

Angry Gorilla Mummys says: "No, I do NOT bl**dy well have PMT, now clear up your toys !"

But there is hope.  We have been Oop North to Newcastle to visit Lovely B.  Every one should have a Lovely B in their lives, thank you B, we had a smashing time.  Also thank you to Lovely B's Daughter and her hubs whom the Boys both adore.

It seems they are very enlightened Oop North re the whole childcare issue.

And yes, I have thought about adoption.  But only about 25 times.  A day.

With Knobs On

George Constantinosopoulososos
Manager
Hotel Bunion Beach Resort
Greece

Dear George
First thank you for the most enjoyable holiday experienced by the Blighty family.  We really did have the most super time. 

We are sorry about the small plumbing issue we caused; as I explained at the time, we did make Boys 1 and 2 aware that they were not to throw toilet paper down the loo as per the notice in the bathroom*; unfortunately we did not expressly ban the flushing of other foreign objects, so Boy 1 was convinced that it was ok to try to flush Boy 2 away.  Hopefully the repairs to the U-bend will not prove too costly.  And please apologise again to the lady in room 128, I can only imagine her shock at the sudden appearance of Boy 2.  Boy 2 is recovering well, he is now able to approach the bathroom without screaming.

Now, I thought I would just raise one small issue with you, as I do believe feedback is important in helping you to provide your excellent service.  Many service providers have thanked me for my tireless devotion to pointing out any deficiencies in their service, for example, they write back to me using words like "harassment"  "tiresome"  "legal department" and, on one memorable occasion, " old bat."

What I should like to raise with you is knobs.  This is an issue which needs a firm hand, it needs grappling with. (note to self: please stop this now, this is awful..)

I attach below 3 pictures of knobs.

Exhibit 1 - the knob of our room, room 127

 Exhibit 2 - knob of Room 128

 Exhibit 3 - knob of Room 126

As you cannot have failed to notice, the size of the knob on our door was considerably smaller than that of the knobs on the adjacent rooms.  This is not acceptable - it caused my dear husband Mr Blighty to feel he was deficient in the knob area, thus reducing his full enjoyment of the whole door opening and closing process.  In fact, he became so ashamed of the diminutive size of his knob, he would only use it when no one was looking, which made the whole business of getting into and out of our room very tiresome.

I therefore urge you to upgrade and harmonise your knobs, so no one else will have to suffer this indignity.

Yours sincerely, 

Bledwina Blighty**

* I remain mystified as to why you can't put the loo paper down the loo in Greece even in modern hotels, I am sad enough to want to know and will no doubt Google it shortly

** I was inspired to write this when I heard that the manager of our hotel in Greece reads out customer comments every week to his staff, and sometimes there are some really silly ones, like the chap who claimed the engine of the waterski boat was too small to pull him out of the water....

Greece is the Word

Dahlings, I am back from the beach and keen to share with you my latest deranged ramblings my recipe for a successful holiday.

First, it's worth travelling a little bit out of London to ensure better weather,

 Somewhere with blue skies and sand is good.

But you have to take sun protection seriously.  Take enough to sink a small battleship, to be on the safe side.  You can always hide behind it if you don't want to be photo'd in your swimcossie.

A hat is important, and also serves to underline the fact that you are a mad old trout.

There is no point these days in loading yourself down with piles of books.  Go hi-tech and get yourself a Kindle.

 Be sure just to eat salad, veg and fruit, to avoid tummy bloat and swimsuit over-stretch...

Keep your exercise regime going.

And avoid puddings with dubious names. (And next time try not to fall about laughing in v childish way...)

Get to know the area by taking a stroll.

Keep your brain ticking over by being ritually humiliated at chess by an 8 year old.

Failure to follow hotel rules could be painful.

Try not to cry upon reentry into Real Life (and English Weather).

This was a Public Service Announcement brought to you by the Elf and Safety Directorate of Blighty Inc.