Thank You Letters Sorted

Since childhood I have been a fan of the unsavoury school boy above, Nigel Molesworth. He even has his own entry on Wikipedia!



Imagine my delight when I discovered that the book above contained this ready-made thank you letter, thoughtfully prepared by dear Nigel. This is exactly what Boys 1 and 2 need right now and it should make thank you letters this year relatively painless. I reckon I need only tie them to their chairs for 2 hours this time. Hurrah!!

The book above cost 20p in the UK and 0.65 dollars in Australia back in the Dark Ages. Feeling old. Going for lie down. Then I shall look for the rope. To tie boys to chair. Of course.

Images and excerpt from How to be Topp by Geoffrey Willans and Ronald Searle, copyright Geoffrey Willans and Ronald Searle, 1954

Do you like my satsumas?

Happy Christmas Dahlings!

More of that White Fluffy Stuff

So today it really snowed quite a lot. The Met Office predicted a bit of light snow. Hmmm. Drinks on the terrace are probably not on.

Mr Blighty insisted on going up to London to his office, despite the weather and the fact that it is Saturday. He has Something Important he has to Get Out before Christmas. My dire warnings of getting stranded somewhere in the wilds of Harrow on the Hill or Rickmansworth went unheeded. In fact the railway performed magnificiently. Well done Railway! It was the London Underground ( as in under the ground) that was upset by the snow. Strange.

Last night it went down to -18 in our area. Allegedly.

I like the snow as it covers up a multitude of sins, gardening-wise. And I can prance around in a fur hat pretending I am in Dr Zhivago. Mr B always says my moustache reminds him of Omar Sharif's. Haha, Mr B, haha.

I'm a bit nervous about putting our tree on the blog. I am frightened Faux Fuchsia will report me to the Christmas Police for insufficient coverage. But Mr Blighty's Expenses Committee gets very exercised about invoices for fripperies like tree decorations. He really has no idea about what constitutes household essentials in 2010.

Finally, I'd like to remind all you gals of the importance of Keeping Up to the Mark, in terms of personal care. I for one never neglect manicures, pedicures and depilation. I will not let myself go and would never have unkempt toenails and furry legs! Never !

Mrs Blighty Hurled into the Spotlight

Dahlings, due to recent press reports I felt I should inform you all of something my close family and friends have known for some time: I am not in fact Miss Elizabeth Hurley, although I admit it is easy to get us confused. What with us both being women of great glamour, beauty and class, and in Miss Hurley's case, a small stuffed animal with worrying delusions (are you sure this is the right way round??)

I did in fact come across Miss Hurley during the school run in my London days and I did try to take her under my wing and give her a few pointers on dressing stylishly as a mother. But poor dahling, she just couldn't get the hang of it. Day after day I'd see her in sunglasses, little fur jacket and jeans. "No, Elizabeth!" I'd shout, " You must remember to wear your PJs under your anorak for morning drop off, like I do! And for pick up, don't bother washing your hair, just plonk on a woolly hat, but only in summer!" Bless her, she hadn't clue. But she used to smile so sweetly as security dragged me away.


I would also like to explain the paparazzi shot below. Only my lawyer has told me not to. But I would like to make it clear that any rumours about me being in any way acquainted with Australian cricketer Wayne Shorn are completely unfounded.

I have never met the man. And I have certainly never spent hours in a hotel suite with him.

Whoops.

Oat So Disastrous

Dear Mr Quaker



I am writing to express in the strongest possible terms my dissatisfaction with your Oatso Simple instant porridge and the accompanying claims you make for this product.



You jauntily claim that it is "Now only 2 mins to Perfect Porridge". You then add, treachorously, in my view "Psst...measure milk using sachet."



What in God's name are you people thinking? Does the picture below in any way ressemble "Perfect Porridge"??? I think not. (Though I will admit that it did indeed only take me 2 mins to cover Blighty HQ in a light coating of semi-skimmed).



And your handy dandy measuring tip re use of sachet was quite frankly the worst piece of advice since that Marie-Antoinette girl opined on the eating of cake as the way forward for the masses..









And does this look like a Good Morning to you?? I think not.







Finally, I feel further insulted by the jolly little directive on the side of your packet, which I noticed after a couple of hours of manning the bilges, swabbing the decks and other nautical type references which I can't presently come up with.




It seemed completely unnecessary at this stage to point out that in fact I am a complete dosey cow. This has already been more than adequately demonstrated.






I will not be Actioning (TM FauxFuchsia) Oat So Simple for breakfast in future. I will stick with something simple like jugged hare or souffle.



P.S. Dear Quaker Oats, I have now succeeded in making the Oat So Simple under the careful supervision of a grown up i.e. Boy 2 aged 8, and it turns out to be quite delicious, so please ignore my earlier complaints. Any chance of a couple of free boxes? Right ho, thought not.

In Which the Nice Lady from Disney Makes A Young Boy and an Old Mummy Very Happy

On Friday while Boys 1 and 2 were at school, the postman rang the bell at Blighty HQ and handed me this package. Of course, I had no idea who it was from but it was addressed to Boy 2. Very exciting.


When he got home from school, Boy 2 examined the parcel carefully, looking for clues.




Here is an action shot of Boy 2 getting to grips with the package. Don't ask about the green hanky attached to his hand.






Wow! A Wii game. Brill! Apparently this game is much sought after by the Club Penguin cognoscenti.



And look, badges and iron on thingies!



And this is Sensei, he is the Business in Small Boy World. And the coin attached to him is, I am told, super fab, as you log it on the 'puter and this means you get 3 trillion million Club Penguin coins and can buy an IKEA style sofa for your igloo. ( I may have got this a bit wrong but that's the gist of thing, I think).



And a dinky little Club Penguin bag, essential for Puffle transportation.



And make your own Puffle Christmas tree decorations - Boys 1 and 2 set to work, leaving red felt tip pens uncapped on the bed (Standard Operating Procedure, obviously).





Boy 1 stuffed this one with paper to give it extra volume. Nice.




So thank you so much Nice Lady from Disney, that was super generous and kind of you, we are thrilled!


Now listen up Hermes and Rolex, you need seriously to raise your game!


NO BEDCOVERS WERE HARMED IN THE MAKING OF THIS POST, EVEN BY RED FELT TIP PENS. THERE IS A GOD.

Mrs Blighty's Words of Wisdom

Dahlings, I felt I should share with you an essential truth I have garnered from my years of Motherhood (almost, er, 10 years, 10 long years, 10 long hard years, etc).


But be warned: if you were hoping for some perky parenting ideas - "How to carve a selection of vegetables into a replica of the Taj Mahal to encourage your little ones to get their 5 a day" (and then come over all King Herod and murderous when they shout yuck and throw it all on the floor, before having a large gin, obviously it's you having the gin not the kids...) you have come to the wrong place.


The most important piece of parenting advice, and in fact the only piece of parenting advice I feel qualified to impart, is as follows: ( You may wish to prepare yourselves mentally for this, it is really quite profound and actually quite moving, I am tearing up a little even as I type...)



NEVER LET YOUR CHILDREN STICK STICKERS ON THE FURNITURE


Below, Boy 1's bedhead in the process of being de-stickered, broken fingernails de rigueur




But at least I learn from my parenting failures. Boy 2 has certainly not been allowed to run amok with the stickers:
Oh sh*t! When did that happen? And how come I didn't notice??

Now, dear readers, I know that you are all people of great wisdom and excellent experience in dealing with such diverse elements as chihuahuas, exotic birds (feathered or otherwise), snaks, cats, boats, cigar smoking barristers, high end luxury goods, and even that most scary manifestation of wildlife, small boys and girls. What advice can you give me?