Parental Concerns

Dahlings, I must admit to being a tad concerned about old Boy 2.

A few little things, nothing major...

At supper the other night,  out of the blue Boy 2 asks "What does "shat" mean?"
I started well (once I had finished choking and had a soothing drink of Bucks finest tap water).
I told him it was a very bad word and he was not to use it.
But then my big mouth kicked in and I got all explain-y:
" "Shat" is actually the past participle of "shit" " says I.

Boy 2 considers this for a second and then says:
" So it's one that doesn't end in "ed";  in our English lessons Mrs Collyfleur is always asking us for examples of ones that don't end in "ed" ".

How long before I get a phone call from the school?


A few days later Boy 2 is sitting at breakfast.

He peers at this fruit loaf and I can see his lips move as he works out the lettering.

"IRISH BUMCRACK*!" pronounces Boy 2.

Excellent. Now he's going be writing in those "describe your Mummy" pieces at school that " My Mum likes bumcrack."  I suppose it makes a change from " My Mummy likes shopping and wine. My Daddy works hard."

Finally Boy 2 and I have been much preoccupied over the Easter hols by his history homework, which was to write a diary of a Roman.   Which as every mother kno', means I have been slaving away over a hot computer while Boy 2 skulks off and plays on his iPad in another room.

Unfortunately the homework coincided with my reading this rather racy poem/novel.

I heard it being discussed on old Radio 4 and thought I'd give it a go.  It's very good, very clever, about an African girl in Roman London being married off to a rich Roman.  Not suitable for a 9 year's Roman project though.

I managed to keep all orgies, whippings and vomiting at banquets out of Boy 2's Roman diary.  But even then, the diary developed a life of its own. The writer, a rich merchant living in Rome, goes for a spin in his friend Marcus's new chariot.  Then they go to the baths together where they engage in some weight-lifting and wrestling, before rubbing oil into their bodies...noooooo! The whole thing was looking slightly homo-erotic.  I tried to redress the balance by suddenly giving the writer a wife, who just turned up from the country - but that made it even worse.  Why was she at the villa while he was in Rome?  Why had he not mentioned her before?  Does she know about Marcus?


Actually, having just read all this, I think the person I should be worried about is me.

Grape anyone?

Cultured

Hello dahlings! Are you well?

Here at Blighty HQ we've all been busy with our various cultural activities..

The nice people at Club Penguin sent Boy 2 a copy of their brand new Club Penguin magazine.  I think they hoped he might do a review (they were perhaps labouring under the misconception that he was an influential literary figure, like Oscar Wilde but more butch and less likely to come out with witty little quips...)  Sadly Boy 2 sees reading as an unnecessary activity; it is rumoured that he once read the on-screen instructions for a  shoot 'em up computer game but he has threatened to punch anyone who dares repeat this.

So getting any sort of reaction out of Boy 2 was a challenge. 

"Did you like that magazine?"
 "Ugh?" 
"What did you like about it?" 
" Stuff." 
"What stuff?" 
"Stuff."

Eventually Boy 2 admitted that it was a really cool mag as not only did it have stuff in it but it came with a week's free membership of Club Penguin, the on-line penguin world he so loves. AND there was a code for a limited edition T-shirt for his on-line penguin persona to wear, and he was the first penguin to wear one and all the other penguins though he was cool and wanted to be his friend.  So there you have: Club Penguin magazine - makes you fashion forward and the envy of other penguins.


I have read this book.

To summarise, this chap is a vegan for 25 ish years and eats lots (5-6 times a day) of soy based meat substitutes and suffers terrible IBS and piles etc.  Eventually he gets fed up, ditches the soya, buys some meat and eats it - on the first day he has ox liver for lunch and then steak for supper.  His IBS  disappears and he feels marvellous.  It makes a good story. He has some interesting stuff to say about the food industry and how the government's "healthy eating" campaigns have coincided with an increase in obesity.  But really, I do think he might have twigged a bit earlier on, that the soya was the problem and that excessive consumption of one foodstuff is a bad idea - and now it looks as if he's heading the same way with the meat!  I would be really interested in what Janet of The Gardener's Cottage thinks about this book, as Janet is a committed vegan who appears the picture of health and  is also a trained chef and does not just reach for the Linda McCartney readymade soya sausages.

 

The other night Mr B and I watched this.

 

It was nice to see Mr Banderas speaking Spanish and not voicing a large ginger cat wearing thigh high boots.  This film was nicely creepy, hokey and as weird as you would expect from old Almodovar. If you have seen this, you will understand why Mr Blighty found it a bit unsettling.

 

Remember my minimalist phase?  Well some members of Blighty Inc have gone seriously off message.  This here mess is a game Boys 1 and 2 call "Teddy Resort Party"

It may just look like a random scattering of toys but in fact it's a very exclusive, all-inclusive, luxury beach resort for stuffed animals run by Boys 1 and 2.  A bit like Hugh Hefner's Playboy Mansion except the bunnies are stuffed   real don't have large nope, can't make this work!

This is the casino - note the chips.

The casino is run by tiger - here he is at his control desk, watching out for cheats and card counters...

I have been listening to this chap - Gotye - no idea how it's pronounced - Goaty??  I think he is Australian  - do you ladies know him already?

 

I was amused by this video for one of Gotye's songs.  I suggested to Mr Blighty that he circulate it round the office to build morale - I found the scenes at the typewriter very evocative of the parliamentary draughtsman's role.....

 

 

Mr B did not think his boss would appreciate this - some people are just not as cultured as others..

Last Week

Not Linda in Chile but Caroline of Brunswick, wife of a King George; she was so badly behaved romping around the Continent in a "bawdy manner" she got herself tried for adultery...note to self: probably NOT suitable role model but do have some Euros left over from last hols...

Dahlings, last week was both lovely and exciting, as Linda in Chile was in London town and I got to meet her in Real Life.  Linda is a loyal and eloquent commenter on Faux Fuchsia's blog, and when I started this blogging malarkey, Linda kindly followed my blog too.

Mr Blighty is also a big fan of Linda, as he approves of her erudite, balanced and beautifully written comments:

• these are the qualities for which Mr B as a parliamentary draftsman, looks in a woman; I am feeling a bit insecure right now:  
• can you:

guess  discern?

So I hotfooted up to town, met Linda at her hotel on the Strand and we toddled off to the cafe called The Crypt under the Church of St Martins in the Fields.   We had so much to talk about - all the big issues like nail polish, shoe buying, husbands v credit cards and how the Chileans speak Spanish without the lisping - the latter was a big shock to me, where's the fun if people around you don't need to pop on raincoats?  I was brought up on Nigel Molesworth who opines that "..you have to lisp when you speke Spanish which make it all very difficult.."

Nigel gives this helpful example:

thene: A hathienda. Enter don jereth de la frontera molesworth.
A thervant: who ith it?
Don Jereth: it ith only me ith ithabel ethpecting me?
A thervant: yeth.
Don J: O thuper!*

Linda and I then gambolled around the National Portrait Gallery, among the Tudors ( "You can say what you like about Henry VIII but in his younger days he had great legs") and then looked at Caroline of Brunswick and some Georges, which shamingly Linda knew much more about that I (I spent my entire secondary school career struggling with  "The Dissolution of the Monasteries: Was Henry just jealous that Cardinal Wolsey looked fab in red?")


We also saw this lady.

But the fun did not stop there!  Mr B and I had the pleasure of going out to dinner with Linda later in the week.  We went to Odin's, which I visited years ago and loved because they have lots of lovely pictures on the walls (though none of Henry VIII).  A good evening was had, (I particularly liked the figs in wine pudding) and we saluted Marylebone High Street and the Malene Birger shop (which is just opposite Odin's) in homage to Faux Fuchsia .

Taken from Odin's/Top Table website

Linda, it was so lovely to meet you.  And don't hold back with the lisping, you know you want to really!



*From How To Be Topp by Geoffrey Willans and Ronald Searle, quite possibly one of the most important books ever written.

Mrs Blighty Does A Spot of De-Cluttering

It seems de-cluttering is all the rage at the moment, and apparently it's not just a one off thing, it's a journey.  So I thought I'd take a trip.

Just look at what I found lurking in my cupboards.

Now I have to assess each article and ask myself some key questions:

Do I love it?
Will I wear it?
Does it suit me?
Why are there always at least 3 Christmas puddings in my cupboards at any given time?
How much bouillon does a girl really need?
How many years past a Use By date can you go?
What on earth is that white stuff in the plastic sachet?

I think the blue of the breadcrumb packet really brings out the blue in my eyes..

Please do NOT send in suggestions on what to do with the stuffing..

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.

All Normal Chez Blighty*

Boy 1 ready for some disco action

Dahlings! A quick post while I have the chance - Boy 1 is at yet another disco and Boy 2 has (illegally) reconnected the Wii and I am pretending I haven't noticed...

This time the disco is at the girls' school - St Britneys.  When Boy 1 learnt the venue, he nodded sagely and muttered, "Enemy territory."  Should I have asked Mr Cameron for a spare Apache, for air cover?  What if the mission goes wrong and Boy 1 goes native, and is found years later on the netball court, wild eyed and covered in hairclips, bangles and glitter?

Highlights of this week have been Boy 1's new cricket bat and cricket wheelie bag, and Boy 2's wounded foot - caused by an attempt to scale his wardrobe one night after lights out, for reasons known only to Boy 2 and assisted only by a rickety chair. Result - terrific thump, wailing, school attendance wearing one school shoe and one bright red Croc and mad hoppy-skippy walking (to emphasise the incredible pain and amazing braveness of the Afflicted One).

This is so totally rad and happening, Boy 2 like totally owns this look and rocks it like majorly

The combination of the new cricket bag and the foot incident really made me wonder about the Blighty gene pool. Picture the scene: I decant Cricket Boy and Hoppalong Cassidy from the car after school; Hoppalong gets to the door first but wobbles at the threshold; Cricket Boy, fresh from a cricket match where his team triumphed over the Weeny Tweenies under 5s, pushes past in a manly, sportsmanlike way, his new cricket bag slung over his shoulder; unfortunately he has not worked out that the bag is wider than the doorway.....so he wedges himself in the door and practically knocks himself out, and narrowly avoids bringing down old Hoppalong who is tottering behind him...
I didn't help by dissolving into mad laughter but really...what a pair! !
 Is there any hope for those two I wonder?**  Could they perhaps play Thompson and Thomson in a Tintin adaptation?

This is wider than the door apparently, it should have an Elf and Safety Notice on it and so should the door frame

My handydandy calendar which has funny quotes for each day (and quite frankly is getting on my nerves with its relentless jollity) featured this the other day:

I like a challenge so I whipped up a cake -  yes, Mrs Blighty, Having It All.  But I had a chocolate fudge icing malfunction - it was so runny, not only did it run off the cake but the top of the cake started to slide off the bottom, in sinister slo-mo.  You never see Nigella's top sliding off her bottom, as it were. (Although no doubt some tapes will surface at some point).

And of course,  the main news is that, having managed a few days at school, the Boys are now on holidays AGAIN.  You know how fashionistas do that "Cost per Wear" calculation - if you buy a dress which costs £800 and wear it 10 times it only costs you...er....(but why not buy a dress that costs £10 and wear that 10 times and it will work out even cheaper???)...well, I hate to think of the Cost per Wear on a Daphne4Boy$ uniform...but don't worry, I am doing my best to bring the cost down by forcing Boy 1 to wear a blazer whose sleeves now stop just below his elbows... I tried to do the same with the PE shorts until the music teacher took me to one side and explained that there wasn't a part for a falsetto in the school choir...



* I have to thank Debs for this title; Debs is a loyal and witty commenter, who made me laugh by commenting recently that everything seemed "normal as usual" in the Blighty household.
** Should Boy 1 take up the double bass?  I have to come clean and fess up to similar door width/turning in corridor/  misshaps with a cello in my yoof..

Barcelona offers hope for Moana, and some Important Advice

I underwent a bit of a style transformation while in Barcelona, I really wanted to catch that contemporary Spanish vibe

Dahlings, still quite not up to speed, what with the unpacking of suitcases and putting Boys 1 and 2 in the washing machine...

In the meantime, I have encouraging news for Moana.

Whaddya mean, who is Moana?  Come on people, stay with it! Moana is the latest alter ego of Louise of InTownsville, my blogosphere soulmate and partner in crime  really dodgy jokes.http://fromnorthqld.wordpress.com/

  I met Louise in Real Life a few months ago - you can read about the meeting of the Superpowers here.http://blightyworld.blogspot.com/2011/01/when-blighty-met-lousie.html

Thanks to the evil cyclone Yasi, Louise broke her back.  Since then, due to terrible pain, Lou sometimes transforms into Moana, very understandably. 

Lou and I have been joking about getting her a new back somehow....

So,  look what I found in a small restaurant/bar in Barcelona on our first day:

Item 3:  Back with Egg and Chips. 

Lou,  the Back is on its way to you, but I am afraid Boy 1 ate the egg and chips.

(I would like to apologise to Janet of Gardener's Cottage and any other vegetarians/vegans for the extremely carnivorous nature of this menu; I think perhaps the translation is a bit over-enthusiastic.... )

Now, you know how I like to perform a public service role in this blog (I guess I am just sooo pro-active and caring).  Well, I am able to pass on some Important Advice we received on arrival from our receptionist at Juan Towel Hotel.  The receptionist handed us a piece of paper warning us about the danger of pickpockets in Barcelona - the paper listed various scenarios such as:

• if someone tell you in street that you have stain on your clothes do not stop, they will steal   from you
• if someone tell you something is wrong with your car do not stop, they will steal from you
• if someone is playing a game of dice do not play, they will steal from you
• if someone approaches you in the street, run away screaming, it will be Boys 1 and  2 whining for more ice creams
• if you want to be robbed in broad daylight go to the Barcelona football team stadium Camp Nou and hand over your credit card plus remaining Euros in  the gift shop

Gift shop at Camp Nou, background noise is Mrs B weeping into her wallet

Camp Nou stadium

In Barcelona they speak Catalan which to me seems like a mix of French and Spanish...this is the Barcelona club motto: More Than A Club (damn right it is, it's also a brilliant vehicle for the sale of nylon T shirts at extortionate prices...the concentration of man made fibres in that gift shop surely contravenes Elf and Safety rules on fire hazards)

Having rendered us pleasantly neurotic, the receptionist then came out with her coup de grace:

"Is no good putting rucksack in your backside!"  Those fiendish pickpockets will stop at nothing ...

So there you have it, the most useful piece of advice I can pass on to other travellers.

 DON'T PUT YOUR RUCKSACK IN YOUR BACKSIDE

It will only make your eyes water anyway.

You can thank me later.

Mothers' Day Out

Last week me and some Mummy friends went up to London on the train to do lunch and a spot of shopping. We launched ourselves on an unsuspecting Marylebone High Street. Here are some snaps, taken in the brief moments when I was stopping to draw breath in between my chatting!

We went past the very attractive window of Designer's Guild.



Then we had a good browse and restorative tea in a foodie emporium called Natural Kitchen.

Some of this Pukka tea was purchased; I am a big fan of Tick Tock Rooibos tea

Next we checked out Agnes B.  Very French, very stylish but heart-stoppingly expensive for What It Is.

Agnes B laidback cool

I liked this Agnes B toile de Jouy dress

With this dress you get scarves attached - but too frightening to think of dishwasher related accident

Below, Daunt Books is one of the nicest bookshops in London - originally specialising in travel books but now does all sorts, worth going inside just for the building.

I insisted we went into Malene Birger, so I could pay hommage to one of Faux Fuchsia's favourite shoppes.  I last went here with Faux herself when I met up with her last year.

One of the Mummies - my friend K, isn't she cute?  And sooo tiny! A real doll! Can you believe she has 2 boys same ages as mine and a little girl too!

The decor in Malene was very fancy but it just wasn't the same without the supreme glamour of the Faux Fuchsia.



Malene seems to have gone all hippy-boho for summer, lots of maxi dresses, no good for shortie me.

I liked this, not least because it was 70% off but I saw nothing as nice as the dress Faux bought.

Next we went to Matches. Nice but full of super expensive designer kit.

Dummy with hand out is saying, "No, Mrs Blighty, do not come in here, you are not a high net worth individual and you shop at Tesco"

Chloe bag, did not bother looking at  price as shouting out "Good God, what a price!" not cool

Pretty cups at Matches - we did not get offered any beverages, you probably have to spend lots of money whereas I kept cracking jokes about how I would need a lottery win first...strangely the sales assistants did not find this funny...

Marc Jacobs dress at Matches, about £3 trillion

After Matches we staggered into Cologne and Cotton, a nice homeware, bed linen shop. 

And finally we perused Whistles where I liked this dress, not least because Grandma Whacker often accuses me of Doing Too Much and, an even more serious accusation, Galloping Around.

The time honoured response to a charge of Galloping Around is to neigh, shout "Clip Clop" and demand a nosebag for all meals

Grandma W has been following Louise of InTownsville's blog and is very concerned about Louise's poor broken back.  Recently G pronounced that Louise was Doing Too Much and Galloping Around.  So Louise - behave, otherwise I will send you this dress!!

And then we went home and the other Mummies reminded me that I needed to collect Boys 1 and  2 from school.  It's really important I go on trips with responsible adults.