Mrs Blighty is a Twit and Other Unsurprising Things

Hi Dahlings!  Hope you are all well.
Still sulking about not getting that Pope gig?
 Get a grip, just having a pair of red shoes and a working knowledge of The Da Vinci Code was never going to be enough!

Here it is cold. Snow is still lying on the ground and small boys are still being forced to wear vests..

Melusine has started a blog http://idbedarling.blogspot.co.uk/ and did a lovely post here -so appropriate for this weather.

pic blatantly stolen from her post - to whet your appetite and send you over there, her blog is visually sumptuous...

This polish is still available - a Classic! I have it. Inspired by Melusine's post, I applied it to my paws. It lasted 6 mins before it chipped while I was doing some light welding making an omelette.

pic from Amazon UK

( In urgent Nail Polish News, I have decided classic reds and pinks are the Way Forward for a woman of my age...tune in next week to Nail Polish News when I announce that ombre nails, lime green and gold and turquoise stripes are the Way Forward..)

In other news I have become Completely Obsessed with Twitter; not the real celeb accounts but the spoof ones.

Here are some more I really like (apologies if you know these already).

https://twitter.com/Queen_UK



https://twitter.com/HonestToddler




Dahlings, let me know if you have any favourite funny Tweeters.
Really important I waste even more of my time laughing at incredibly rude tweets by fake Bill Clinton.  WARNING VERY RUDE DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU
https://twitter.com/PimpBillClinton


Slight problem is that I have them all mixed in with Serious Tweets - updates from Boy 1 or Boy 2's schools, the real newspapers, the hockey club, book blogs, and it's sometimes hard to tell which are which... like this one

schools emergency classroom threat list



Finished this book.

 Mr B read it before me and really liked it.  Took me a while to get into it.  Realised Mr B liked it because there were a few references to winter tyres.   Mr B likes a winter tyre angle in his literature.  He is a hopeless dreamer is ole Mr B.  In the end I liked book as very unflashy and well put together with interesting characters and a twist in the plot; quite a bit on legal procedure which I like (yep, I am a hopeless dreamer too).

I leave you with some fantastic pictures of Paris in the snow, taken by my French friend Monsieur
OM.  Paris always looks better than anywhere else, whatever the weather, n'est-ce pas? By the way, still loving Spiral 4 and Juge Roban...wonder if he tweets?  Wonder if he wears a vest?

Seven Dials; Mrs Exeter; The Duke of Hazards

Dahlings, life has speeded up, we are yet again hurtling towards another school holiday. This means I am busy cramming in all the jaunts which the presence of boys would not permit.

Interior of the Miller Harris shop at Seven Dials

I took a little trip up to London and paid a visit to the Miller Harris perfume shop near Covent Garden. It's actually in a part of town called Seven Dials, which makes me think of the Agatha Christie novel of that name; it sounds very 1930s...

Cover of first UK edition, picture taken from Wikipedia

Miller Harris is sold in various department stores including Liberty's; but dare I say, I don't find the perfume section of Liberty's very friendly, the assistants seem a bit tecky to me (unlike the lovely girls on the cosmetics counters there); I swear a perfume maven inhaled sharply the other day when I dared to place my mitts on  a candle...and my mitts were clean, honest, I wasn't clutching a Crispy Creme at the time.

Gratuitous pic of spring fashions in Liberty's, just because..

Cire Trudon candles at Liberty - don't touch!

The Miller Harris shop by contrast was heaven, the assistant very friendly and very knowledgeable about the products.  I had the best time spraying and sniffing and babbling away to the lovely girl there - hi Natalia, I have not forgotten how kind and helpful you were!

The wallpaper is Miller Harris designed and can also be purchased

I could not choose there and then - really I felt spoilt for choice, I think the Miller Harris fragrances are ones which you cannot go wrong with, no matter what you choose, but I loved them all and just couldn't decide!  I came away with lots of samples, which I am really enjoying - Terre de Bois; La Pluie; Tangerine Vert; La Fumee.  Currently I am in love with Coeur de Fleur  - a divinely soft, clean smell, very spring like, I keep nuzzling my arm, I find myself so delicious! ( I am trying not to do this too much when other people are around as it must look ever so slightly pervy).  I also like the fact that Miller Harris is still an independent perfumer, unlike the Jo Malones and the L'Artisan Parfumeurs who are now owned by big cosmetic companies..) and the founder Lyn Harris is still very much hands on in the creation of the perfumes. Plus she trained as a perfumer in Grasse, France, and I once spent a summer there working as an au pair so you see Mr B it is really important I have a Miller Harris perfume to remind me of my distant youth (think he was called Pierre or maybe it was Bertrand???).....

Miller Harris perfume samples - divine!

Another big treat recently was to meet up with Mrs Exeter, whom many of you will know from her blog.  Mrs E also lives in Buckinghamshire, not far from me, so we met up for coffee in a very pretty market town. We talked and talked and had a lovely time and then Mrs E had to go riding, as you do - how cool!  In a  clever decluttering move, Mrs E gave me a book on decluttering.  Masterful!

Mrs E also gave me this nail polish.

It is called "Old Blighty".

How fitting!  Thank you so much Mrs E.

We have plans to meet again for a trip to my spiritual home, Bicester Village.

The boys have of course been busy with various boy type activities.  They certainly keep them busy at Daphnes4Boyz:  Maths tests, French tests, cake competitions, Sports Relief charity run, football matches,  Inter-House General Knowledge Quiz (won by Verruca but with Impetigo coming a close second), egg decorating competition, £5 challenge (otherwise known as extorting money out of your peers in return for bags of popcorn)...and then it's time for morning registration...

Mr B and I were very amused by Boy 2's recent trip to somewhere called Hazard Valley, some sort of interactive educational centre designed to teach children how to cope with various dangers.

Look at this picture.  Can you all see what the issues are ? *answers below

Mr B found the numerous leaflets from the Coastguards which Boy 2 came home clutching very funny, considering we are the furthest you can possibly get from the sea anywhere in the UK!  Possible case of print over-run in the Coastguard department? or do they know what bath time is like at Blighty HQ?

When I asked Boy 2 what had happened on the trip, his main feedback was that Justin A. Bucket had been sick on the coach on the way there and Max Chunder had thrown up on the coach on the way back, all over a teacher. 

Conclusion: the main hazard facing a 9 year old is being blurped on during a school trip, so important to
 a) identify; and
b) avoid sitting anywhere near;
 the pukey kids at all times....

These are vital life skills, which will serve Boy 2 very well in later life. 

Never underestimate the importance of school trips.



* the hazards are of course as follows:

• that girl is wearing dangerously out of fashion 80s style gear, including Reebok type trainers and a scrunchie;
• the baby's nappy looks worryingly full, real risk of seepage situation and hazardous fumes;
• baby needs to remove dummy before taking a drag on the ciggy**
• is that red wine properly aerated - should it not be decanted?

** this blog of course does not advocate smoking for the under two's, though an occasional pipe can help them unwind

GUB GUB GUB

Need your windows cleaned, love? Pic from Vogue on-line

WARNING: THIS IS ME WHINGEING ABOUT FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS FOR A LAUGH, I DO REALISE HOW LUCKY I AM TO BE ABLE TO DO SO!


Things are not going smoothly at Blighty HQ and I am officially Grumped Up Bigtime (GUB).  Details as follows:

Gary and his very pretty wife, from TNT magazine

  

1. My idyll with Gary Barlow is Over.  He has just announced he is expecting his 4th child with his very pretty, slim, blonde wife.  Wail - he told me he was sleeping in the spare room!  Linda in Chile - I need Daniel Craig back now, just dust him down and post him to me.  Note to Gary's lawyers:  I have never actually even met Gary, these are just the musings of a woman suffering from a midlife crisis, and I can produce a medical certificate to prove it (receipt from TopShop for leatherette leggings).  On the bright side, Gary is still working really well as punishment for Boys 1 and 2 - after a violent, sweary tussle over a hockey stick, I played Gary's very lovely rendition of "A Million Love Songs" in the car this morning and Boy 1 moaned piteously that his ears were bleeding.  By the way, why do Daphnes4Boyz think hockey is a good idea, surely arming them with wooden sticks is an incitement to riot?  Have we learnt nothing from the Peasants' Revolt?
2. Grandma Whacker is in residence again and has been continuing what can only be described as a vendetta against my window cleaners.  A few months ago during a previous Blighty HQ minibreak, Grandma Whacker sacked the cleaners while I was out.  This led to Domestic Tension: Mr B saying to me testily, " Will you please ask YOUR mother to stop sacking MY window cleaners. And you can tell her to get up on the roof herself and clean the skylight." (The last bit was really unfair as Grandma is over 80 and  not as agile as she was and so I would have to give her a leg up, which would strain my back..)  I managed to get the cleaners back by grovelling and having to hear for the 100th time that they clean Sophie Dahl's windows.  Well, history has repeated itself - a couple of days ago while I was out, the window guys came and the Big G "supervised" them. They have also put their prices up. They have not been back to get paid so I assume they have Got the Hump and I will no doubt have to grovel/hear about Sophie D.  But just yesterday Madame Whacker mentioned they did not have their hose attachment thingie...further enquiries have now revealved that these guys were not actually my window cleaners at all, which explains the unexpected price hike...it transpires that the Whacker has surpassed herself, she is now sacking window cleaners who aren't even my window cleaners.  Final score:  The Association of Fenestration Hygiene Technicians - 0; Grandma Whacker - 2.
3. Before Christmas, with guests coming, I went full speed into decluttering, re-purposing and minimalism - I read a lot of those blogs!!  Now every time anyone goes in the garage there is an almighty crash as they fall over all the stuff I have stashed away there, and in the house no one, including me, can find a darn thing.  Grandma has taken it as a personal affront, she suspects I am trying to pull off a Fanny By Gaslight number to make her think she is getting a bit vague with age...
4. Boy 2 was strongly advised not to take his brand new Warhammer figues to school as he would lose them. Boy 2 took his Warhammer figues to school.  Boy 2 has now lost his Warhammer figures.  Last night I found myself deep undercover SAS style dressed all in black including balaclava in the boys changing rooms searching for the missing Warhammer, without success.  Parents are strictly forbidden from entering the changing rooms for child protection reasons so now I will probably be on some sort of register. Super.  In my view, boys should be strictly forbidden from taking Warhammer to school for child protection reasons.
5. Boy 1 came home from Dahpnes4Boyz yesterday and informed me he has lost his trousers and his games shorts.  Is loss of garments from these regions a worrying sign? Don't worry, he still had his white PE shorts which he came home in.
6. Boys 1 and 2 have given me to understand in no uncertain terms (by wailing and shouting) that Daphnes4Boyz is putting them under unbearable academic pressure and that the homework demands are excessive.  They have also told me I do nothing at all all day except think about Gary Barlow and nail varnish and have loads of fun prancing about the supermarket. I find this a bit dismissive of my contribution to Blighty Inc, as there is lipstick to think about too.  But when I suggest that perhaps I might get a job OUTSIDE THE HOME Boy 2 bursts into floods of tears and has to be consoled by his (lazy, stay at home doing nothing) mother...
7. Boy 1's  Science homework is getting too biological for my liking.  I can cope with plant cells but his homework last night seemed to focus rather a lot on, ahem, sperm.  Boy 1 said he would love to see some sperm with their wiggly tails - I was sooo tempted to quip about "wait till you are fourteen and then ....
8. I just managed to delete this entire post and have just re-typed it...aaaaaaaaaaaaggggggh!

GUB GUB GUB!!!

From Wikipedia.  Government Health Warning: this sort of thing can cause excessive expenditure on Warhammer

I leave you with action replay of Grandma cleaning the windows.

Abolish the Polish?

Dahlings, something deeply traumatic happened to me recently, of which I hardly dare speak..

Oh ok, then...here goes..

I just couldn't get the interest up to paint my nails....(quivering voice, loud sobbing, hiccuppy noises, honking of nose etc.)

If this were a nail polish blog, I would caption this as: "OPI Flower to Flower from their 2009 Summer Collection, 2 coats, with topcoat",  but it's not a nail blog and I can't actually remember exactly, though it is OPI

It just seemed soooo unimportant, trivial, needlessly time consuming, pointless....

For a couple of days (WARNING: EXPLICIT DETAILS COMING UP) my nails were bare.  Unpolished.  Au naturel.

This is my lovely friend D totally rocking red nails in her elegant French way

Above Barry M (I know because it says so on the bottle) and below some OPI which I think is called Catch Me InYour Net or it could be Take Me To The Vet, you know how they love their weird names...

But then I realised something really cathartic.  And profound:
Painting your nails IS unimportant, trivial, needlessly time consuming and pointless.

Some Nails Inc bluey/purple which Lovely B gave me, and just look at how my paw is clamped onto the choccie box

And that is what makes it such an enjoyable, worthwhile and therapeutic activity.

Here I am showing how your polish can match random household objets ..or am I about to throw the vase at Mr B???

Also, I realised my OPI Conquistadorable Colour matched my new hot lips top....

Hot Lips top from H&M, not in any way suitable for a woman of my age which is of course why I had to buy it..

Mrs Blighty, philosopher extraordinaire.

Eat your heart out, Bernard-Henri Levy*.



* As I am sure you all know already BHL is a French philosopher, recently rumoured to have been dating Daphne Guinness; I just had a most interesting read of Wikipedia where I was most amused to see he had once used the works of one Botul to refute the arguments of Kant; it turns out Botul is a spoof, cooked up by some French wag; the giveway is that his philosophy is know as Botulism...

WOT I DONE IN ME HOLIDAYS AND OTHER NEWS

Dahlings, I can't believe how long it is since last I blogged. Disgraceful! I really would not want this blog to fall into desuetude.* Although (much to Mr Blighty's amusement) during my breaks in posting I always gain more followers.  Paradoxically*, frequent posting causes me to lose followers - what me, offend people? Shocking!

Well life seems to have been coming at me like a hyperactive toddler covered in melted chocolate when you are wearing a cream suit, and there has been the small event of Boys 1and 2's half term hols (now safely over, though Boy 1 did manage to wangle a day off "ill" last week - "ill" as in, I feel a bit tired and don't really much fancy it today). AND THEY HAVE ONLY 4 WEEKS LEFT NOW OF SCHOOL BEFORE THE LONG SUMMER HOLS NOT THAT I AM PANICKING OR ANYTHING WHERE IS MY PASSPORT STUFF IT I WILL LEAVE ALL MY CLOTHES BEHIND YES I WANT TO CLOSE THE ACCOUNTS AND TAKE THE WHOLE BALANCE IN CASH TAXIIIIIIIII! WHEN IS THE NEXT FLIGHT LEAVING? WHERE? NEVER HEARD OF IT GIVE ME A SINGLE TICKET CAN I PAY CASH? ETC ETC!..

So in this post I am just going randomly to paste pics from the last couple of weeks and make it up as I go along (so actually no change whatsoever to my usual modus operandi*)..

Above, 3D glasses -Mr B has just taken the boys off to watch Kung Fu Panda 2.  During the hols I took them to Pirates of the Caribbean 34  and would like to point out that the actual running time of that film is in fact 2 and a half days, never mind what they claim on the cinema website.  I can also confirm that the correct mathematical formula for popcorn consumption by Boy 2 is : bodyweight x 2 + total arm  reach x fist capacity - trouser coverage - time popcorn removed by Mummy who is no fun at all.  All rigorously scientifically tested. Another interesting statistic: number of times Mummy said loudly in a quiet bit "Does anyone need a wee?" = 7 ( Oh and I would just like to say well done to the man at the back who very obediently did as he was told..)


Cinema today is a good idea as it has been raining nonstop and cricket has been cancelled.  Mind you, cricket is not what is was, thanks to a teenage pyromaniac who did this to the cricket pavilion just a  couple of months ago.

Grandma Whacker came to stay to help me with the boys during half-term.  She brought these lovely roses from her garden.

 With my mother around I regressed to my teenage self, wore ripped jeans and painted my nails an alarming colour.  Grandma pronounced that "You bloggy girls have very frightening nails!"

 I tried to be a bit Faux Fuchsia so wore this purple rock arrangement (copyright FF 20110).

The colour is OPI Summer 2010 .   I am thinking that soon I will get my alter ego Sindy Lemon-Grass-Snoddy (beautician and research chemist) to do a guest post on nail polish.

I played chess with Boy 2 (aged 8).  He beat me. Easily.  I can't actually play chess and so Boy 2 has been teaching me, but he only tells me certain things, bit by bit.  The book is for me, not him. I'll show him!

 This thing below is Mr Snoodles.  Boy 2 has been going on about buying him for ages, he is a Moshi Monster character. Apparently.  I must admit to being somewhat underwhelmed when I finally came face to face with Mr Snoodles.  He is basically a yellow pig with green ears.  Boy 2 of course adores him and will do for at least the next 10 hours, before abandoning him on his bedroom floor forever. Poor Mr Snoodles.

This is, according to Mr Blighty, the most expensive property in the UK - One Hyde Park. The penthouse flat sold for about £140 million last year. Gulp!  We went past it on the way to a football birthday party in Hyde Park a few weeks ago.

They must get a nice view of the park.

 And at the bottom of the building is a handy convenience store, for those last minute essentials.

Once the boys went back to school Grandma and I hit up John Lewis, that purveyor of all household wares to middle England.  Look at the price of this baby!  Does it go buy the ingredients for you, load them in the car and unpack them when it gets home?  For this price it's the least it can do.

 I liked the colour of this Kitchen Aid.  But Grandma reminded me that I did not really cook plus there is the evidence of prior gadget abuse in the form of my breadmaker (last used in 2007), slow cooker, rice cooker...

 Loved the cheery colours of these gadgets.  I could wear matching nail polish (not now Sindy).

Grandma and I endured the Horror of Sports Day - from 9am to 5pm on a windswept sports field bordering the motorway, total time spent by Boy 1 and Boy 2 doing an event 4 mins.  I particularly enjoyed the hail stones at about 2.30pm, though the drizzle at 11am was good too.  And readers of Faux Fuchsia will know that just the other day she locked her keys in the car and had to get the emergency rescue man out.  Well, ever keen to emulate Faux I locked Grandma in the car at the start of Sports Day. For 20 minutes.  By accident. Honest.  Result: one Very Cross Grandma;  the RSPCA are never going to let me have a dog; and Grandma will never get in the car again without the keys and an emergency flare. 

Here is Boy 2 taking it all very seriously, keeping his pompoms dry. At least I think it is Boy 2 - as usual I was cheering on a boy with the same red trainers - who turned out not to be Boy 2.....And I can never remember the house names and colours - "no Mummy, green is Ringworm, Yellow is Impetigo, Red is ChickenPox, Blue is Verruca"  (Daphnes4Boy$ Sports Day, sponsored by Clapxx  Pharmaceuticals).

 Yesterday we went to a lovely party, and the boys did lots of this, having investigated the chocolate fountain and the ice cream van first.

Finally I found these in the cupboards, sweet little baby plates which a Swedish friend gave us when Boy 1 was tiny.  I am wondering whether a certain little Australian baby might like these.  I never really used them as I favoured bowls that could be stuck down by suction pads onto the high chair. 

 

Even so, this happened far too often...

*  I would like to dedicate these items of vocabulary to Louise InTownsville and Linda in Chile.

Cold

Even at midday the ground is frozen

Things have gone downhill since Faux Fuchsia left these shores, taking glamour, beauty, charm and the England cricket team with her (it's true, they are in Australialand as we speak).

It has become very cold. All glamour is gone. My favourite accessories are my thermal vest and a tissue for my drippy nose.

Even Boys 1 and 2 have given in and are wearing vests, jumpers, hats and gloves, though under protest and after an epic battle of wits, force, low cunning and gratuitous use of insults.

Small boy in normal attire

Thermal underwear mandated by Mummy

Snow is expected here soon. Oop North where Lovely B is, there has already been lots of snow. Lovely B does not approve but she is not letting it get in the way of her Christmas shopping. We have already received a Severe Warning about our failure to provide her with our Christmas list on time. Apparently it's on the 25th this year.

Mr Blighty has been enjoying the weather, sitting chuntering at the TV info pages, exclaiming happily: " Minus 17 last night in Powys, unheard of, unbelievable." Bless him, at least it gives him an interest in life other than the disastrous fortunes of Newcastle United: "17- 0, well could have been worse I suppose.."

I ventured down town today and everybody, but everybody, was wearing a hat of some sorts; Russian style fur hats seem to be very much in vogue. Indeed, what with the hats and the cold and the grey I felt I was in a pre-Gladnost Eastern bloc country. This impression was strengthened in the bank: the cashier, an Eastern European girl straight from Central Casting was having a remarkably unfruitful conversation with a customer:

Customer: I was given this account number and told the account would be open today

Cashier: Number not mean anything, there is no account, is nothing on computer

Customer: Oh

Cashier: is not there, is nothing

Customer: how about we start again, and open a new account now?

Cashier: is not possible, is internet account, is opening only on line, not in branch

Customer (weeping) : Right ho, thank you very much

Cashier: you go open on line, you go now

And when I exited the bank I saw this dog. I am definitely now living in Russia. Her name is Kim and she is a Siberian Huskey, apparently.

But I am not going to go to the dogs, sartorially (ooh, did you note what I just did there, what a slick link that was, I could be on TV!). Cold weather is an excellent excuse to wear daft hats and embarass your children at school pick up.

The Miss Marple Special

The lux leopard

The James Bond film Russian spy - so James, the microfilm is hidden down your trousers, yes?

Also the cold weather is a good reason to stay in and play with my new nail polish, a birthday present from Lovely B. What lusciousness! Note the small boys' paws all over - probably just checking no sweeties hidden in the parcels.

I was also given these books from Grandma W. Note the 3 for 2 sticker. Where's the other book? I asked (tact is my middle name). I'm reading it, replied Grandma, cheerfully.

Finally some important Puffle news. After my last post, a nice lady from Disney got in touch. Hello nice lady from Disney! She may have some goodies for Boy 2. I just know that any day now Hermes and Rolex are going to empty their warehouses in my direction. Yay!

Maybe the nice lady from Disney has some advice on controlling your Puffle in a restaurant?

It was last spotted riding around the carousel at Yo!Sushi, thankfully no one tried to eat him.