A Man in the Kitchen

Guess what? Even as I write, a man is in my kitchen, cleaning my oven. Don't worry, I haven't kidnapped him (I promised Mr Blighty I'd stop doing that). He is from Oventeam, he has a van and a matching T-shirt and he assures me that my oven will be gleaming by the end. Wonder if they have MummyRefit, too (waxing, polishing, tightening, replacement of worn out parts, corkscrew maintenance)?


This stems from my slavish devotion to Faux Fuchsia's lovely blog - she recently got her oven cleaned, so I had to copy her! ( I do try to emulate her where ever possible, and the oven cleaning seemed more achievable than the Pucci and Marlene Birger... ) Isn't it just amazing, the power of the blogosphere and the reach of FF's blog: Faux Fuchsia, the blog that reaches parts other blogs cannot reach, even your oven!

On a more serious note, today I have made a Bad Fashion Choice. I am wearing this top from H&M. At the time of purchase it seemed cool and sophisticated. In that annoying thing known as Real Life, it has turned out to be a complete liability. Things keep getting caught in the open weave - big things like passing fishing trawlers, light aircraft and the handles of my kitchen cupboards; I got hooked up on the latter about 5 times just at breakfast. Boys 1 and 2 found it most amusing. And they could shout rude things at me with no fear of retribution as I was firmly hooked up, powerless!



Meanwhile the weather has gone to pot: after autumnal sunshine early in the week we now have grey rain. This type of weather makes me want to give up, unhook myself from my kitchen units and watch escapist films. I do not want to see important films about single mothers in sink estates being terrorised by loan sharks; I want nice clothes, scintillating dialogue, full make up (possibly not on the leading men).
I "curated" this recently from the charity shop. I hope it might point the way to some classic films.
Below, Joan Crawford in "Mildred Pierce". I saw this ages ago and must re-visit it.

Below, still of the party scene from "All About Eve" with Bette Davis in full swing and a young Marilyn Monroe. I watched this one rainy afternoon not so long ago with Grandma Whacker and loved the witty lines and the elegant clothes.

I want more films of this ilk. Recommendations please ladies.

Grandma Whacker is on her way to visit. She is bringing her new laptop so that she and Mr Blighty can do some technical tuning and trouble shooting. It seems that BT is no match for Grandma W, they are undone by the novelty of providing her with email. On the plus side I am now being called daily by Harold from the Chairman's office (you can get email addresses for CEOs, how handy, opens up a whole new hobby for me). He is from the High Level Service team. Wonder if he is any good at cleaning ovens?

Must go ensure boys have not left crisps/water bombs/socks/school friends in guest room.

Have a great weekend everyone. I leave you with another essential public service announcement.

Mrs Blighty's Nooks and Crannies

YooHoo, we are back from Grandma's!

Went as well as could be expected. Small hiccup when Boy 1, incensed by Grandma eating his chips in a restaurant, flumps about so much he ends up toppling onto the floor face first with his chair on top of him. Cue desperate maternal flutterings, application of ice to bruised face, wailing, tears, runny nose, the works. Meanwhile Boy 2, ever the opportunist, quietly polishes off the disputed chips.

Grandma also had a problem with her drains. (Glamour as always with Blighty, eat your heart out Ivana Trump!) One day we came home to find Grandma (aged 80) and her Polish neighbour Mr UnSpellableski (at least 85) with the covers off the manholes, happily poking around with sticks. Such a lot to look forward to in later life, ladies, can't wait! I should have got a picture for you but without AromaVision you wouldn't get the full experience anyway.

Look at this little chap we met while at Grandma's.

One day the boys got it into their heads they wanted a dog. I suggested we start with a guinea pig. We went to look at them. Boy 2 was particularly desperate to get one there and then. This one was too young to leave his mum. Of course by the next day all had been forgotten. Phew. Mr B said no way, he was NOT having a guinea pig in the house. Maybe a dog one day. A small dog with strong nerves.

Before I went to Grandma's I carried out Operation Hanger. I found Hanger Heaven in TKMaxxxxxx (my spiritual home).

I also swung by Crooks and Grannies (I have re-named it Grannies to reflect its normal clientele). Look, a Faux Fuchsia temple dog, all by himself. A small dog with strong nerves. Perfect.

I liked these ones too.

I have also embraced false roses (foses??).

The silhouette thingie is supposed to be me, it was done years ago, can't think where, Grandma found it at her house. There is a lot of artistic licence going on. My hair never looked like that, long and wavy. It is as straight as , er, better not write that, don't want to be sued...

These are real flowers, Mr B gave them to me this week for our wedding anniversary. 12 years. 12 long years. 12 long, hard years - ok Mr B, that's enough.

Meanwhile I push on with the educational quotes. I have finished Double Drink Story, the book by Caitlin Thomas about her life with Dylan. To summarise, they went to the pub a lot, got drunk and fell over. I admire her stamina. She must have had the constitution of an ox. She had 3 children with Dylan, and after his death, went to live in Italy where she got together with an Italian chap. In her late forties she noticed she was putting on weight around her middle, a doctor diagnosed swollen something or other, she did lots of frantic exercise like riding to lose the weight, yes, you guessed, she was pregnant and had a son.

I liked the inspirational message above, on display at the cricket pitch where Boy 2 played cricket this weekend. "Unacceptable" - that's telling them, now I'm scared! Boy 2 didn't want to go to cricket and put up quite a fight, but shot himself in the foot a bit by shouting " I don't want to go to tennis!"

Boys 1 and 2 have been working on their own motivational material. They got the Nintendo Wii back (which has spent more time confiscated than being played on, due to anger management and florid language issues ). Boy 1 penned this helpful aide memoire - they have been warned that it's 3 strikes and then the thing gets sold on Ebay. Remember, if the red mist descends, say "Machete" 5 times. Why "machete"? Should I be worried?

My Mother, Joan Crawford and coathangers

I have been musing on how to increase the traffic to my blog. It would be quite wrong of course randomly to mention the sort of brands people might put into Google searches. Quite wrong.

CHANEL PARTICULIERE

CHANEL PARADOXAL (apparently this is the new "must have" colour, a sort of purple)

AVAILABLE TO BUY

Yes, quite wrong, cynical and a cheap trick.

BALENCIAGA

LOUBOUTIN

WRIGLEYS SPEARMINT GUM, er, no, I give up, can't think of any more..

Meanwhile my mother appears to have gone mad and has asked me twice now over the phone to buy her Woolite delicates wash, apparently it's not available in any of the 94 supermarkets where she lives. Quite what has brought on this sudden need for Woolite I do not know. Dear Lord, what if she's drinking the stuff?? Is this the new designer drug for the over 70s? Will she be featured on some gritty documentary? Will she start blowing bubbles? And from where? The whole thing is a worry.

Grandma's Favourite Tipple?

I've not mentioned my mother before because She Would Not Approve. There is much which meets with her disapproval, for example:

uncertainty about when the next meal will be served

vegetables that have not been boiled for at least 2 hours

shoes which are not sensible

small boys who shout "Oh no, it's Grandma Whacker" and appear at the dinner table wearing their bike helmets
untrimmed hedges

untrimmed hair

Spending Money

Getting Overtired

Staying up too Late

Rushing about

Gudgey cakes

The latter are my speciality. Mother does make me laugh about these though. "This cake is very gudgey and too sweet" she says, as she chews disapprovingly. " Would you like another piece?" I ask her. "Yes please", she replies, without a hint of irony. It reminds me of the joke about the people complaining about their hotel - "The food was terrible, and the portions so small..."

In other exciting news I have been hunting down coathangers. I hate nasty coathangers, particularly the wire variety. I have been carrying out a hanger renewal programme, trying to weed out the horrid ones. But now I have cornered them, what should I do with them?

(No, Miss Crawford, that's not a helpful succession, but thanks anyway).

How can I store them neatly? Why do MrB's cupboards magically breed wire hangers? I tell you, it's a jungle out there, in Blighty's airing cupboard.

Finally my quote for the day. This was not a success. Boys not impressed. "Don't get it!" was the response. Will have to fall back on the classics, like quotes from Power Rangers or Scooby-Do. Yes, great idea. "Those pesky kids!" I like that!

Shameless name dropping, scary bras and Quote of the Day

Hello there! Have just cleaned out the inside of the Blightymobile, so am feeling virtuous and entitled to a reward in the form of a nice sit down in front of the 'puter. (Have been putting off said cleaning for a while, justifying it on the grounds that if we were ever trapped anywhere in the car, we could survive for days on the biscuit and crisps fragments which coat the inside. But when even Boys "We don't need to wash our hands we did it yesterday" 1 and 2 are commenting on the unsavoury state of the backseats...)

Below August editions of mags scored from our local library. Hurrah for the library, hurrah for local government funding my magazine reading! If ever we get a written constitution I will be campaigning for the right to read Vogue to be enshrined as one of my basic human rights.

I looked through hoping to spot some nonsensical fashion words, as I feel it is unfair that Faux Fuchsia should shoulder the burden of doing so unaided, it is such an onerous responsibility. Unfortunately I am not sufficiently skilled to spot them, my fashion radar is faulty! I did however learn that for autumn there are New Trousers which fit at the small of the back and make your legs Go On For Ever. Hurrah for that, much better than trousers where half your bum falls out and your legs look like stumps! Tatler carries an article on Elle McWhatsit looking unfeasibly young and lithe. Her sons attended the posh school Boy 1 went to in London. Had we stayed in London, Boy 2 would have been in the same class as Claudia Schiffer's son...and then there was Liz Hurley's son ... Elle, Claudia, Liz; not who you want to see at 8am when wearing your pjs under your anorak, although it did encourage fathers to do the school run! The Tatler also has a pic of one of the mums from the posh school rigged out in tiara and ballgown at some Caledonian ball thing. How come I never get in Tatler - "Mrs B doing weekly shop at Tescos" or "Mrs B wrestling Boy 1 to ground to apply suntan lotion" ?

Below, photo taken some time ago during my Barbara Pym phase. Her books are deceptive, not much appears to be happening but they are quietly funny. I think I also wanted to show that OPI Tropical Punch matches the cover of Jane and Prudence. Useful to know that.

Below, I am still trundling on with Elizabeth Bowen and "Love's Civil War". The problem is that it is very lopsided - her letters to her lover Charles survived but not her diaries; his letters to her did not survive but his diary entries did. Her letters are of the "Darling you are my whole life" variety, without his replies it all seems a bit obsessive....

Here are some more books I am planning to read. Bedford had an interesting life, and her life intersects a bit with that of Gerald and Sara Murphy, a gilded American couple who lived on the French Riviera and knew Hemingway, Scott Fitzgerald, Picasso, among others. They are supposed to be the couple on whom Fitzgerald based the Divers, of "Tender is the Night". Gerald Murphy had a sister who had an affair with Bedford. According to the Murphy book, the sister was a serious bedwetter. Gerald's wife had to put a rubber sheet on the bed when she came to stay. Useful to know that too.

You can see I get almost all my books from the library, it started in our tiny London flat as a space saving ruse and also as an austerity measure. I usually write down what I have read so I can look back and remember, and I have also discovered Library Thing where you can build a virtual library, another fun way to waste time! http://www.librarything.com/

Enough with the books, on with the bras. Look at these beauties, the photo really does not do justice to the hugeness of the one on the far left. I was looking for a junior training bra for my under developed chest and took a wrong turn and found myself in the DD department.

A while ago I also saw these strange creations in H&M, on sale for £1. I briefly considered whether Mr B would like to play the coach and the cheerleader but felt this might frighten the poor man to death.

Here are some pics of perfumes I saw in the shops recently.
This looked like a shrine to Chanel, I resisted the urge to light a candle.

At the same shop I went into action with my handy dandy polish colour chart. Although I didn't need a chart to tell me that I hadn't got the blue already. I thought it might be a Tiffany's blue. Or more likely a horrible mistake.

Next, the lovely Janet of http://thegardenerscottage.blogspot.com/ posted a picture of her blackboard where she writes her menus each day. This inspired me to rub off the "Don't forget your sandwiches" reminder which has been on my blackboard for almost a year. Instead I have decided to do a different quote every day or so, in an attempt to be amusing yet educational, and see if anyone notices. So far only Boy 2 noticed and thought the "so" was "50". Note to self - watch handwriting!


Finally, there are signs that my intensive schedule of summer holiday activities for Boy 1 is paying off.