Sprouts of Joy

It's Christmas Eve and we have finally managed to shoehorn Boys 1 and 2 into bed.  Boy 2 actually asked to go to bed at about 5pm, so keen was he to make Christmas come sooner but Boy 1 can always be relied upon to uphold the honour of Boykind and perform the Dance of the Seven Bedtimes.

Now the coast is clear I'm going to tiptoe upstairs and leave this outside their doors....I really am the most horrid mother (cue evil laughter).

Happy Christmas Dahlings!  Have a good one!

Blogger's Headache

Dahlings, again long time no blog! Unforgivable!
So how are you all?  Really?  Dropped off completely? Frightful.
Right, back to me.

A little while ago  Sister Wolf,  whose blog sometimes shocks and unsettles but is never ever boring, as she is ferociously clever and possessed of  a mordant wit, asked which two words her readers hated most. Sister Wolf  listed "fiscal cliff" and commenters came up with equally excellent ones such as  "now trending" and "gangnam style".  At the time I could only think of "ironing board" which I felt was not quite up to scratch.

But now I feel able to contribute:

DRUM KIT

 Yes, Boy 2 has taken up the drums.
Quelle joie!
Ooh, another two annoying words - I'm on fire!

Isn't Negligee French for Neglect?

Dahlings, how are you all?


Right that's enough about you, back to me.

Went to a Daphne4Boyz Mother's Power Lunch yesterday.
Discussion of vital issues including the horror of rugby (Swollen Parts and How to Deal With Them), what happens when you pack your 10 year old's boxer pants by mistake in husband's case for business trip (Swollen Parts and How to Deal With Them) (husband uncomplainingly goes commando) and Most Important of All:

Do we need to Raise our Game in terms of Nightwear in view of our Advancing Years?

To be honest, my heart sank.  I thought bed was one place were I could let it all go and happily crawl into my tatty pjs and washed out sweatshirts. And as Mr B is usually at work till all hours "trying to get something out" (always thought he was referring to a new draft of legislation but now wonder if I should check he has right underpants on) he never actually sees me in daylight anyway, let alone notice what night garb I am wearing.

On the other hand, only the day before I had been checking out the Marks and Spencer nightwear as I am in the market for some news pjs, having reluctantly parted company with one pair which had mysteriously developed holes after only 15 years..so this topic was of  great interest.

Instead of comfy Mummy pjs, should I get myself an elegant La Perla type night dress with matching gown? 

La Perla; "Your dinner is in the dog Mr B"

 But feel I do not have the lifestyle to go with it - when would I actually put on the gown?  These days I am either comatose or up wrangling Boys 1 and 2, there is no in between lounging around dipping strawberries in champagne ...And I can't have any drapey silk getting underfoot as I chase the boys around the house (Elf and Safety issues). I suppose Cruella de Ville managed ok, but then she had help.

Also if Mr B did come home early enough to catch sight of me decked up like this, he would probably think he was in the wrong house and go next door looking for his supper...

La Perla; "Darling be a dear and take the bins out would you?"...(hey, I am starting to get the point of this fancy sleepwear idea, just need to hire a body double and some antique furniture)

Vita e Passioni d'Emira silk-georgette and lace robe

Rosamosario £520  from net a porter

 Rosamosario Venetian Love lace-trimmed silk-crepe kimono

£695 from net a porter

       

Us Daphne4Boyz Mothers also discussed the fashion for All in Ones- I mentioned how unsettled I was to see these on offer at M&S for Grown Ups.

From M&S on-line

 Apparently lots of young girls wear these at boarding school to keep warm while doing their prep.  Best left to the young I feel - also the likelihood of my toppling over and knocking myself out when trying to extricate myself from said garment in middle of the night to have a wee is too high....do not want to be found unconscious with babygro round my ankles.... (What's that Mr B?  Wouldn't be the first time? Ha ha Mr B, ha ha).


The only good look I've seen involving a onesie recently (apart from babies who of course look adorable in them) is this:

found this on pinterest, not sure who took the pic in first place, happy to attribute if anyone knows

 Who knew that the whole issue of night clothes is so fraught?

And why are those coat thingies called negligees?  When they are so obviously the exact opposite of Letting Oneself Go?   Answers please ready for next Daphnes Mothers Power Lunch. No pressure. A full Powerpoint presentation and Excel spreadsheet of different sleepwear option price points is also required.

Sweet Jesus!

It's my birthday today and my friend Special K just dropped this round for me:

And now I have completely lost focus...

Birthday? What birthday?

Mrs Blighty Pin Up Girl

Gratuitous pic of satsumas; does not count as one of your 5 a day

Yes dahlings it's true!  I have been busy with my pin up work.

But not page 3.  Don't worry, I haven't got my satsumas out - they only come out at Christmas (as long as the central heating is on).

No, my latest obsession is Pinterest. 

It's basically sticking pics in an on-line scrapbook and the way I do it, an utterly mindless activity, so of course I love it, sooooo relaxing.

I sit "pinning" fashion pics like a demented zombie, happy as a clam, while all around me things go horribly wrong - the other night, for example, Boy 1 decided to venture upon his maiden voyage around a tin of peaches with the can opener.  Result: sudden tsunami of peach syrup due to unfortunate pressure on lid....Grandma Whacker who came into the kitchen to investigate is then stuck to the floor; strangely, the spilt juice  had the opposite effect on Boy 2 who managed to skid into the fridge door.... and as the bodies piled up, I carried on regardless, with a happy smile, pinning and writing earth shattering captions like "brown and black"*.  Vogue really need me, they so do....

Apart from an escape from the endless domestic drudgery that is my life  actually doing anything useful around the house, the Pinpinthing has introduced me to yet more fashion blogs, including Seersucker and Saddles    and Happily Grey



Seersuckers and Saddles - isn't she just the cutest?

Happily Grey  - those jeans are polka dot AND velvet, adorables dahlings!

You can check out my Pinterest here, it might help if you are having trouble sleeping!!

However, I have noticed a few unwelcome developments due to my Pinterest phase:

First, though I started well, behaving myself and writing perky little captions as to why I liked a particular outfit or notes to remind me to try certain combinations,  soon the REAL ME started creeping in and being a bit sarky - about  an all cream outfit I found myself writing, "Keep away from boys encrusted in Nutella"; to a doubled up shirt combo I appended: "2 shirts to increase the ironing."  It is only a matter of time before I start up with "knickers a good idea with micro mini" or " avoid bobble hat with stripey top unless you want to channel "Where's Wally"."

From the Where's Wally books

From popcornnews.ru; not a good outfit for jam making

Secondly,  all these images have completely scrambled my brain and any personal style I ever had is shot;  I am currently wearing 2 shirts (one gingham, one denim), 3 pearl necklaces, spotty trousers, a stripey sailor top, a denim waistcoat, a combat jacket, one brown boot, one Converse All Star and a woolly leopard hat....I am scaring not only my children but myself (when I pass a mirror) and with Guy Fawkes night coming up...

Third, I couldn't resist putting all the crazed bushbaby outfits on my Pinpinthing, so removing any remaining doubt as to my sanity.

And worst of all, I have come to the totally predictable and deeply depressing conclusion that if you are young and beautiful, with amazing hair and glowing skin and endless legs,  you will look fab in most things, whereas, if you are Mrs Blighty, almost 50, no matter what sartorial trickery you pull, you will still look 50,  tired and worn and a bit frayed round the edges.....and adding polka dots and leopard print will just make you look tired, worn etc and slightly deranged...  but what the heck, I'm doing it anyway!


So watch out for my next Pinterest caption which will probably read, " Yeah, whatever, you're beautiful and blonde, with great skin, you look fab in dirty denim with tattered jeans and a baseball hat,  I would just look like a homeless person.."   At which point I will probably be barred from Pinterest on the grounds that bitter and twisted has no place there...

See what I mean? Young and beautiful...
From The Sartorialist

*actually, in one caption  I went with "black with brown" which of course is completely different.

In Which I am Almost Elizabeth Hurley

Dahlings, me and Miss Elizabeth Hurley have long led parallel lives....we are practically indistinguishable...(climbs back onto chair after mad fit of laughing at own joke as usual...)

As I may have mentioned in passing  a propos of nothing at all to a few people Everybody I Know (plus a terrified stranger in the frozen foods section of Tesco), Boy 1 went to the same posho pre-prep school in London attended by Miss Hurley's son....in fact, I did say hello to her once: she was waiting to put money in the parking meter and I was trying to get Boy 2 to relinquish his death grip on said parking meter after I made the mistake of letting him feed in the coins...as I wrestled with the octopus like Boy 2 who clung on like a demented limpet while turning puce, I feel me and Miss Hurley really bonded... (note to self: need to calm down on the marine imagery/Jacques Cousteau dvds).


Here's Boy 1 back in the day:

And here is further visual evidence that we were batting way out of our league by signing up for that school: *

From CBBC News website

From Famecrawler website - yes really

Later my life and that of Miss Hurley again interconnected: the very week news of Miss Hurley's relationship to Shane Warne became public, highly compromising photos of me surfaced on the internet** and I was forced to deny rumours of an involvement with cricketer Wayne Shorn.

 And now we have another convergence.  You may recall Miss Hurley's elaborate wedding complete with Indian costume and dancing.

From Hello magazine

Well, only the other night I attended Greggs Grammar's very own Bollywood evening.

Here's my outfit.

Mr Blighty came too and I knew we were in for a good night when he mentioned he was going to leave his vest off as he might get too hot.  Phwoarrrr Mr Blighty, you animal you!

Mr Blighty followed the dance demonstration by Mr Jay Kumar very carefully - he particularly liked the move known as "change the light bulb" (though he did express concerns about whether Mr Kumar was properly certified as an electrician).  Tremendous fun! Here's a clip Mr Kumar in action.

Better go now dahlings, I'm expecting a call from Estee Lauder's people...

T, thanks for the bindi, sets off my eyes a treat

 *But worth every penny in terms of the anecdotes I have wrung out of it...

** ok, I admit I put the photos on the internet myself and on my own blog, but it's not easy being a D list sleb you know..



Unexpected Flare Up

What's wrong with this picture?

Miss Victoria Beckham, photo from the Daily Mail on-line

And this?

From Wendys' LookBook

And this? EEEEEK!!!!


Miss Katie Holmes, from Broke and Chic blog

Love this look, from Stardust and Sequins

Dahlings, I am staring in the face of a Total Fashion Trauma: it appears that flares are back.

In the Great Decluttering of 2011, out went most of my flares - I mean, they were soooo 2002!

If you need me, I'll be sulking in the corner, or possibly scouring the charity shops for my old trousers...

If all else fails, I shall embark on an anti-fashion protest and wear these....






From Stardust and Sequins

Why I should never help with homework

Dahlings, long time no blog!

So Boy 1 has started Really Big School, no more Daphnes4Boyz, country club with lessons. Now he is at the local state* grammar school for boys, let's call it Greggs Grammar.



After a carefree summer my big boy put away his shorts and T-shirts and went back to the daily grind; also Boy 1 went  to his new school

 Keen that Boy 1 makes a good impression, I am helping with homework as required.

Today he had to design some sort of heraldic shield for Religious Instruction.

He got a bit stuck on thinking up a motto.

"MUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAMMMMM!" he requested softly, in his usual dulcet tones, "THINK OF A MOTTO. NOW. COME ON!"

I came up with a few suggestions:
Just Do It.
Work, Rest and Play.
Go to work on an egg.
Mind the gap.

No good.

I studied the design carefully. I concluded the key elements were:
fear of heights;
keen on footie and ping pong.

"I've got it", I announced triumphantly:

"Keep Your Feet On the Ground and Your Balls in the Air."

Really I'm wasted here.



In the end Boy 1 opted for the more succint "Believe in my sport." He looked at me with pity: "When you say something you think is funny, you laugh, and then you keep on laughing, long after it isn't funny..." Harsh but fair.

* This means it's FREE. No more school fees. It takes extreme willpower to refrain from throwing myself at the staff, sobbing "I can't believe all this is free, thank you, thank you...."

Fifty Socks of Grey by E L Blighty

"Holy Crap!" gasped Anastasia, "That's just enormous....huge...!!!"
"And all for you Anastasia, " growled Christian Blighty, charismatic, damaged and dangerous - the sort of Top Executive parliamentary draftsman that knew his way round semi-colons...a guy who put syncopation in his punctuation.

Anastasia's Inner Goddess did an exotic pole dance, before putting her back out and having to be helped to her seat.

Yes, it was truly the biggest pile of unsorted socks Anastasia had ever seen.

"And now", said Christian Blighty, "I am going to take you to the White Room of  Pain..."
"Oh no, not the utility room," groaned AnagoshthisnameislongcanIjustcallherNasty?, her Inner Goddess breaking wind gently and lighting up a fag.

"Yes," was Christian's masterful reply.  "And there you will do something you have never done before..  you will sort the socks into pairs and put them away in your drawers... yes, there you have it, it's my tremendous Sox Appeal.."

Yep, dahlings, almost everyone I know has read or is reading Those Books*.  Except me.  I am resisting, out of sheer contrariness...I just enjoy reading reviews of them and listening to other mothers discussing them:

"I was up to 3am reading it."
"Some of those things are just not physically possible."
"I told my husband I was off to bed to read it - when he joined me ever hopeful, I was fast asleep with my reading glasses on."
"Mrs Blighty, sorry but you can't stand here with us, you have to go stand over there with the other people who have not read it; yes, Mr Pinkerton, the retired headmaster, oh, wait a minute, he's read it now too.."

 A friend even updated her Facebook page with"It's all coming to an end with Mr Grey."

And when I looked at Grain de Musc the perfume blog of Denyse Beaulieu, I found that she is currently working on the French translation of 50 Shades ....it's everywhere I turn!

I suspect my refusal to join the Greyfest is largely motivated by jealousy - I wish I had penned a bestseller like this.  Although any mommy porn I author is going to be less erotic and more idiotic. ...

"I want you now, here, in the escalator," demanded Christian urgently.
"Are you sure? "
"Yes, there is just something about escalators."
"No, I mean, don't you mean "elevator" not "escalator"?" queried Anaethesia, breathlessly; "We don't want to get anything caught in the moving parts and the other shoppers might not like it.."
"You damn bourgeois fool you," blazed Christian, as they arrived at Home Furnishings.



* 50 Socks Of Grey
Paddington Bear At Large
Grey Underpants In My Sink

New species spotted at Blighty HQ?

Email to: WildlifeTrustIdentifyThatCritter@beetle.com
From: BledwinaBlighty@wheretheheckaremyreadingglasses.com

Dear Wildlife Trust,

I would like your help in identifying a strange new creature which I spotted emerging from our bathroom this morning. I  am pretty sure it is a mammal, though it does has some reptilian features, in particular its ability not to blink when asked if it has cleaned its teeth.

It may be a member of the porcupine family, or possibly hedgehog.  It seems to have some sort of spikes.

It has been making a couple of interesting noises: yesterday it emitted sounds along the lines of "muuuuuuumcannaIhavsomehairgel" a strange, unnerving refrain.  Today when approached it let out a harsh cry:"DONTOUCHDAHAIR!"

The creature also seems to be leaving a sticky trail ....which can be traced back to a pot labelled "Beachy Surf  Dude".

I attach a visual.

I eagerly await your reply, as do not know whether to feed this creature as it lies on the sofa or chase it outside for a good run around the garden.

Regards
Mrs Blighty



Email to:  BledwinaBlighty@wheretheheckaremyreadingglasses.com
From: WildlifeTrustIdentifyThatCritter@beetle.com

Dear Mrs Blighty,

From your description and the photo it seems what you are dealing with is homo sapiens pre teenagius : Pre Teen Boy.  This subspecies is fairly common in the British Isles.  Eventually a fully fledged teenager will take its place, turn day into night and leave half eaten bowls of cereal under its bed.

In the meantime, to ensure your PTB thrives, try to limit the amount of commerical TV it watches - these complex creatures are highly susceptible to ads for hairgel, bodyspray and other grrooming products.  Make sure its drainpipe jeans do not cut off its circulation.  Never under any circumstances ask if it needs a wee.

Finally, if the hairgel situation gets out of control, warn your PTB that he looks like he is evolving into a dangerous mutation: the justinus bieberus.  That usually does the trick.

Regards
Bill Bored

Watching With Mother

Dahlings,  just dropped by as a kind of insurance policy....I can't say too much* but I am sure one of the Dahpne4Boyz mothers works for the FBI or the CIA (she is American and very clever and used to work for NASA, this is true)....so if I suddenly disappear, please contact Mr B - code word RENDITION PROTOCCOL 5 - FAILURE TO PAY SCHOOL SWIMCLUB SUBSCRIPTION - he will understand what you mean and swing into action on the Thai brides website to get me back....

You see, the mother in question has been regularly updating us on our son's movements during the epic Cornwall school trip - by cleverly locating and linking us into public webcams where ever they are. Her surveillance skills are outstanding.....

NOTE TO BOY 1 - NEVER EVER SWIPE SURVEILLANCE MOM'S BOY'S BLAZER UNLESS YOU WANT TO WEAR ORANGE .  Which to be honest is a very tricky colour for you to pull off with your skintone. And well done on watching all those Jason Bourne films in pre-trip training.


One other thing is worrying me.  Apparently the boys have been romping around in Lusty Glaze and Hydra Waterworld.  I really, really hope these are local attractions of the beach/swimming pool variety...as I can't help thinking, they would make great names for porn stars. I may have shared this thought already with a few of the mothers.  Funny how we can never get playdates these days.

Right, I'm off and if a man in black with an earpiece  and a minivan comes looking for me, I was never here, ok?






*That would be a first.  Ha ha, Mr B, ha ha.

Under The Weather

Dahlings - anyone? Is here anyone out there?  Jiggle your mice* around if you are!

I have been Under The Weather:  not ill, but tired and lethargic due to all the rain and gloom.  Mr Blighty says that is nonsense but I argued back (masterfully I thought) that "under the weather" must mean precisely that, otherwise why say it?

I have also been involved in a period of intense boy activity  - the usual stuff - tennis, cricket, school exam angst,  jean styling issues - whether to go drainpipe or stay with relaxed fit - and general failure on the part of both Boy 1 and Boy 2 to come to terms with the fact they are not an only child....)

And this morning at 5.30am I dropped Boy 1 off at the school for his epic coach trip to Cornwall for the week.  I think he will enjoy it - he has prepared mentally by watching all the Bourne Identity films so will be able to think on his feet and evade any CIA operatives that might want to "give the asset the green light.." (no, I don't know what that means either).

As a mother I felt rather bereft once the coach left... my friend's son is also on this trip - as soon as she got home, her daughter, with the impeccable timing of a 7 year old, put on the CD of the Titanic music... and explained it was to "calm people who were about to die."  Bless.




Meanwhile, I am seriously thinking I should rename this blog "Duck News" - or maybe "What The Duck!"   During a weekend garden inspection  - I was showing Mr B my droopy peonies - I discovered....
yes, a duck nesting again in the undergrowth. 

Mr B: Is it the same duck?
Mrs B: How the heck am I supposed to know that?
Mr B: Well, you seemed to get on really well together
Mrs B: ??****??%$*?


Has the caddish drake installed a new female in the love nest?  Has word gone out in the duck world that Blighty HQ is the maternity hospital de choix - like the Portland for ducks?

Tune in next time for further Duck News!


Finally you remember my confusion about that pop singer chappy Goatie?  (several  of you kindly explained it is actually Gotye, pronouned Gautier...)

Well Boys 1 and 2 found what I think is a really funny take off of That Song...
(not at all suitable for young boys, I blame the parents I really do).

* Computer mice, not mice mice; this blog in no way advocates the jiggling of mice or other small rodents, this is a cruelty free blog, otherwise Janet would hunt me down and make me drink soy milk...

Summer Washout

After tantalising us with one week of tropical goodness (sunburnt shoulders from coffee date at garden centre, I live on the edge) the weather here has gone completely to pot - cold, rainy, windy....blaaaaah.

The pond has returned to the road, but this time I have to report that Mrs Mallard , single mother, is no longer in residence.  She valiantly sat on her eggs day and night for about 4 weeks, only leaving occasionally to eat out (she spurned my offerings of water and lettuce which is apparently what you should give ducks - I had a lovely chat with the Protection of Birds lady).  I had cardboard boxes ready to transport Mama Duck and chicks to local pond.   A bit like having your bag ready for the hospital.

Then one morning Ma and the eggs were gone - they appeared to have hatched - so I guess she marched them off in the early hours herself.  I really hope they got there safely.  Mama Duck had plenty of time to observe my skills at getting Boys 1 and 2 out of the door, so probably decided she had better get on with it herself, without letting an amateur in troop movements intervene. Wise old bird.

I do miss her, I got used to peeking at her every time I left and returned to the house.  Should I be worried that my most important emotional attachment recently was to a duck? Don't answer that.

Here's video of a duck rescue.

In other news, before I went to Paris (did I mention I went to Paris?) I had a little scoot round the old Happy Valleys Shoppe Centre .

Silk dress by  French Connection, made me feel cold just looking at it

French Connection

Brrrrr, not warm enough for these

Loved the navy sequined jumper - Whistles

Whistles

Hobbs - loved this on the mannequin

NW3 - younger sister brand of Hobbs

NW3

 Snuck into changing rooms to play dress up. Noooo,  I look like a deckchair

Hobbs

NW3

NW3

All about NW3 here.  I liked these dresses but with the navy one priced at £99 I resisted temptation, back in the day you could get that sort of look at TopShop for a lot less, of course now Toppers has gone all micro mini and frilly...
Anyway, enough of dresses, the only sensible attire right now is raincoat and wellies..and possibly waders for visiting ducks..

Keeping The Dream Alive

Dahlings, did I mention I have just been to Paris?  Oh well, Paris now seems like a distant memory but I am trying to keep the romance alive...

Brain-washed by over-consumption of beauty blogs, I brought back some French pharmacy items (Me and Gwyneth, soulmates).

Avene skin cream, La Roche Posay sun lotions and the Bioderma make up remover that everyone raves about, except Mr B who had to lug the suitcase with it in

However, it is hard to keep the romance alive when you discover from the English section of the product literature  that the Avene Cilcalfate, lotion assechante, reparatrice (how lovely does that sound?) is meant for "Oozing skin irritations" - how typically Anglo-Saxon! So now apparently I have weeping sores. Nice.

Nuxe lip stuff, sets off my weeping sores a treat

I have also started reading this book.

 I got very excited when it mentioned the flagship store of  L'Artisan Parfumeur across the street from the Louvre - I clocked this the other day when in Paris - dahlings, did I mention I have just been to Paris? -  and Mr B had to keep a close eye on me otherwise I would have bunked off the cultural programme and hotfooted in there.

I put the book aside for a moment to gloat over my own Artisan P perfume - Rose des Indes...
But the smug glow of ownership did not last long - at that moment I noticed (after 2 years of liberal application to my person) that in fact it is "Parfum d'Ambiance" - Room Spray.

People like me really shouldn't be allowed out on their own.

Other members of the Blighty family have also been doing their utmost to keep the whole Paris experience alive: imagine my joy when I discover that while in Paris (did I mention I have just been to Paris?)Boy 2 has been wearing the same pair of socks for at least a day, a night (in bed)  and another day...... mmmmm, Eau de Trainers Chauds  And possibly "oozing".  Where's my room spray?


P.S. Grandma Whacker emailed to point out I had got my French wrong in my last post - it should be "puis-je" not "peux-je".  I tried blaming this on Boy 2 but he wearily explained that he said " Est-ce que je peux aller aux toilettes Madame s'sil vous plait?" - it's chanted as a singsong rhyme at breakneck speed by the boys as they leg it to the loos mid-lesson - their get out of jail card, so the only bit of French they take note of!!!! So thank you Grandma, now you have Mrs Merkel on Line 2, something about the Euro...needs your advice...