Monty Dog and the Prize Paw Draw

How the heck did I get up here?

Dahlings, sorry I had a bit of a hiatus there (but don't worry, I can get it seen to on the National Health).

Grandma Whacker has been to stay.
 

Everyone is impressed when I tell them she drives herself from the Cotswolds to our house (resolutely all the way in the middle lane of the motorway I suspect).  They say things like, " Wow, that's brilliant, at her age," and "Let me know when she is travelling so I can take a different route."  All joking aside, she really is an excellent driver.

Unlike her daughter - today Mr B was washing the car and took me on a trip down memory lane: "This is where you scraped against the scaffolding lorry" and "This is where you hit the skip. "  To be honest I could not remember half of the alleged bumps, but hey, good times, people, good times...   I had a lot to contend with back in our London days, what with the constant problem of finding a parking space, two wriggly toddlers yodelling in the back, in particular Boy 2 (aged 4) who liked to sing along to Johnny Cash "Ring of Fire"...with just a slight time delay so you thought you had a evil pixie echo..

Boy 2

Johnny Cash during his hell raisin' Ring of Fire days before he was tamed by the love of a good woman
taken home for a bath and bed

 

Some of us made slight adjustments to our routine during Grandma Whacker's visit:

Here's Boy 1.

Here's Mr B.  

I think he should market these to all men whose MILs come to stay.  

Now on to business - I finally did the prize paw draw for the book - the brilliant thriller wot my friend wrote.

  It got a great review the other day in the Daily Mail no less, so don't miss it! review here

You will be pleased to hear that the draw was carried out under the strictest conditions.

Protective goggles were worn (almost).

Names were written down on pieces of paper. .

 
 They were then placed into the hi-tech Dogatron (patent pending, the US government is interested in this technology for the next Presidential election).

 

 

 

 

 

 Then our top scrutineer carefully selected, on a totally anonymous basis, one of the pieces of paper.

  

 

.

After a quick lunge and grab operation, we were able to get the paper out of the scrutineer's mouth and the slighty soggy winner is:

 

LPC! 

Dear LPC, congratulations my dear and I shall be in touch! To everyone else, thank you for taking part and sorry you didn't win (but at least you are not covered in dog saliva..)

Right better go, it's Sunday evening here and while Boy 2 has of course broken up from school for a week already ("Daphnes4Boy, A Few Weeks At School, Long Summers by the Pool", registered trade mark) Boy 1 still has one more week to go ("Greggs Grammar, Keeping them off the streets since 1635").

Monty Dog goes on minibreak and so does Boy 2

Last week Monty Dog went on a Luxury Minibreak in the heart of the Chilterns, near Tring.  We are going on hols in the summer and Monty can't come with, so he is going to stay at this very upmarket dog hotel.  Last week was his try out. Look at how lovely the room is where the dogs sleep and relax. I am not joking, there are day care nurseries for kids which are not as nicely appointed; I should know, I put Boys 1 and 2 in them when they were evil toddlers...

 Each dog gets his own individual bay to sleep in, there is a hose down area to freshen up after muddy walks and even CCTV to check on them at night.

 The countryside is lovely, this is the view from the garden.

The lady is just starting up her dog boarding business.  She is lovely, has her own dog Harvey and is an expert in dog training and behaviour.

Here are the details in case anyone is interested. 

I was relieved that the try out went ok and Monty did not do this to the dog hotel sofa..

I had to laugh as I drove Monty home, only a mile or so from his luxury dog hotel we passed the gates of this place.  I do in fact wonder whether I didn't get a bit muddled and left him at Champneys by mistake...

 Meanwhile the intrepid Boy 2 was on his own minibreak, a 4 day sailing trip with Daphnes4Boyz at Weymouth and Swanage, in Dorset.

They had lovely weather.

 

 

 I am very excited to get him back later today, though I expect he will be very tired, very grumpy and possibly a bit smelly...

He may have grown a beard , started smoking a pipe and become a hardened sea dog. 

In other news, I have invested in a new pair of willies* wellies.  Remember my Hunters I bought from Selfridges BD (Before Dog)?

  Every dog walker you meet will tell you Hunters are Not What They Used to Be (dark mutterings about being Made in China and being a mere fashion accessory..) Apparently Aigle Parcours are now Where It is At. 

For me the clincher is the pic of the exhausted dog next to the Aigle clad owner...

Right I am off to collect the fragrant Boy 2.  Boy 1, who has been living the dream (Single Child) is not going to be happy, he hoped I'd forget...also I have to tell Boy 1 that Monty dog has chewed yet another set of X Box headphones....have a nice weekend everyone, mine could be a bit lively!







*Dammit Blogger, stop auto correcting! You will get us both in trouble.

Menopaws and the Scottish Play

Dahlings, hello! Thank you all for your nice comments after my whinge about follower decline....I think that's done the trick - no one has dared unfollow since! Welcome to Hotel California Blighty - you can check out but never ever leave (is it just me or is that song really creepy? )


It's all going really well so far today - I have completely traumatised Boy 2 (aged 10).  Last night I watched him and his classmates prance about in black T shirts and trousers doing highlights of Macbeth.   As usual I was stuck in the corner, behind the father who used to play rugby and the father videoing it all. I couldn't actually see Boy 2.  Jeez, what if I got the night wrong and went to the other class's performance??  I am pretty sure it was Daphnes4Boyz though, what with the state of the art mini-theatre complex, complete with hospitality suites, private boxes (for parents with over 4 boys at the school), crush bar, sur-titling facilities and the sponsorship of Kleinwort Bunsen ("Sponsoring education since 2001: our financial products are like your children - expensive and impossible to understand!").

This morning I got all YouTube-y and showed Boy 2 the Polanski Macbeth beheading scene.  I remembered it as very jolly, especially as Macbeth kept saying his lines as his head bounced down the steps.  Boy 2 however burst into tears and I had to go and confess to his teacher what I had done. Note to self: if any doubt remains about my suitability as mother/primary teacher/any situation where tact and sensitivity is involved, it has now finally been removed. At this rate I could be an MP or a tabloid journalist..

Shakespeare aside, here spring has sprung and naturally my thoughts have turned to getting a cat.  What?????!!!

pic from Cats of Australia!!

Yes, suddenly last week I was consumed with the idea of a cat and before I knew it I was in talks with a breeder, as I have fallen for British shorthairs. It turns out that the breeder  has a lovely, grown up cat she is looking to re-house, as she is giving up breeding.  He is a retired stud, which you can imagine has created great scope for jokes. She was explaining how proud he had been of his "pompoms" and it took me a minute to realise what she was talking about - the old chap has now been neutered.  Poor Mr B is in shock (and not just about the de-pompom-ing) and I am dragging him off to see The Old Stud Sans Pompoms this weekend.  I think it all may be my hormones - The Menopaws  -  to be honest, anyway we shall see! In the meantime I have been looking at Lovely Jublies blog, which is great fun of itself and now has the added attraction of her two beautiful cats.

In other news I read this which was beautifully written but very bittersweet, in fact sad.  Great review of it here

Pic from Booksnob blog

I am now reading this.

pic from Amazon

 I am rather sated with all my murder/detective novels and have been casting around for some more light hearted, soothing reading, with some decent prose and some light decapitation.  The Elizabeth Taylor book made me realise how most of what I read is very plot driven but often with quite ropey writing and very little in the way of serious beheading.

What do you chaps turn to, to cheer you up?  I mean BOOKS!! I do not want to hear your sordid tales of vodka, Mars Bars and Dennis Quaid in the Big Easy ! (oops, actually that's me).

Watch out for the gator baby!

I had a lovely look at the Persephone website. They specialise in 20th century writers who have fallen out of print. So the hope of some charming writing and plus, the covers and endpapers are lovely.  Tempting.  I just happen to notice they have a shop in Covent Garden, London....

Pics from Persephone website

Better go, Grandma Whacker is coming to stay.  Another reason to regret the Macbeth beheading upset.  Better go wipe my YouTube history and get Mr Quaid off pause..or should that be "paws?"

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.

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...

Problem Skincare

Dahlings, how do you like my title for this post?  Does it remind you of those signs on roundabouts advertising a "HUGE CARPET SALE"?  Mr B, ever the parliamentary draftsman, always points out the ambiguity of that phrase.  What can I say, Mr B and I have a very exciting relationship..

Right, enough of me being a smartarse. As if.

Anway, I felt the urgent need to share with you all my latest obsession: improvement of the Blighty skin.  Also I have been discussing this issue with another Daphne4Boyz mother, who is equally obsessed. (Skincare, bringing people together). The Other Mother is lovely, a very beautiful lady, tall, lovely figure; very bright, is a barrister, teaches trainee lawyers, and also speaks fluent Hindu and Gujarati as she grew up in India. In fact, I should hate her, she's so flipping great but she laughs at my jokes ...There is in fact nothing wrong with her skin, but like me she loves researching a project.  So we have been emailing each other furiously, throwing words like "glycolic" and "lactic acid" and "AHAs" around.

And this brings me to the first problem with skincare: the names of the stuff.  I can hardly remember them, some I can't pronounce, and some I can't spell either.

For example :

salycylic - sallycynic
glycolic - sounds as if you are being throttled
hyaluronic - this one gets me every time, cannot get this right - have been saying hydroponic but I think that's how they grow tomatoes?  Or hiya Lauren and Nic?  So I fall back on hyawhatsit and pretend I am too au fait with the whole thing to bother with the precise names but I'm fooling no one..
sebum - do not pronounce in pantomine French accent as "zeee bum" and point at your posterior while so doing, if you want to be taken seriously in the cosmoceutical world..


Sooooo, the other day Model Recommends mentioned a brand called Etat Pur.

This seemed like fate,  I took the plunge and yesterday these arrived for me*.

And this brings me to the second skincare problem: what the heck am I supposed to do with all this?  The research was fun, but now I have the stuff, all the enthusiasm is gone.  I found something on the internet which explains in great detail the order in which one should apply all this gloop; I vaguely recall  rules about which bits of law take precedence over the other - EU law over English law...  but those legal rules are laughably easy compared to the order of acids, serums, moisturisers and sunscreens; and within acids there is apparently another order of precedence...what if I put something on in the wrong order, will the aggrieved serum sue in the High Court?

And another thing....these acids from Etat Pur are named after roads. Is that a good sign?

A8 - the Edinburgh to Glasgow
A20 - London to Dover
A21 - Sevenoaks to Tunbridge Wells

One of the things these products are supposed to do is clear congestion - but have you seen the traffic on the A20?

I suppose I have to excuse the names on the basis that the company is French; but doesn't Etat Pur translate as "Complete State"?  Is that a good name for a skincare brand I ask?

Final problem: in the steamy bathroom first thing, my poor middle- aged, longsighted eyes cannot make out which potion is which...

I have cunningly tried grouping the green ones separately but to be honest, and without being overly dramatic, WE ARE ON A KNIFE EDGE HERE PEOPLE**

All joking aside though, I must say, first, Etat Pur were very efficient at delivering; secondly, the prices are very reasonable, thirdly ,and this may be a case of Emperor's New Clothes, my skin felt very smooth this morning after last night's application and some lumpy bumps have gone (no Mr B, not my chest, very funny).


So there you have it. Mrs B being silly about skincare.
But remember: skincare is no laughing matter.  Why?

Because if you laugh, you will get laughter lines ..





Stay tuned for more Blighty on skincare - there is a brand called Bravura which looks good;  also I have just discovered the horrors of sodium lauryl sulfate and other foaming agents  in face washes and shampoos so am on the hunt for SLS free products....oooh, goody, another project...


*What I got from Etat Pur-
Salicylic Acid 70 - A21
Salicylic Acid 300 - A22
Zinc Gluconate - A20
Apigenin - A08
Allantoin - A47
Citric Acid - AHA A60
ooh, should I get myself a white lab coat, I feel very scientific?


**phrase shamelessly stolen from Faux Fuchsia

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?

The Easter Bunny Hops Off and Other News

Dahlings! Phew!  The Easter hols are over - Boys 1 and 2 went back to school this Thursday..Daphnes4Boyz like to ease themselves gently back into the term, so no sooner have you loaded up the 3 tons of sports equipment into the car and deposited it and boys at the school, then you are back taking it all home again ...in fact in my case I was back at the school within 1 hour as it turned out Boy 2 had left behind his piano lesson* bag...

Here is a visual of our Easter decorations.

Now here is the real picture.

Robo Rat came courtesy of Louise in Townsville - gee, thanks Louise!! Louise sent a huge box of things for the boys, including Robo Tarantula and 2 huge life like rubber snakes.  The rubber snake had a not inconsiderable role in the school production of "Joseph and his Multi-Coloured Dreamcoat"** and now has its own Equity card.

We had fun over Easter - Lovely B and her daughter Lovely R and Lovely A came to stay for the Easter weekend.  We did a little trip to Windsor, it was biting cold, there was a huge queue all the way down  the street for the Castle.  The Queen was at home as the Royal Standard flag thing was flying but she did not ask us in for a cuppa.  One word: Republic.

Instead of taking a nice pic of the Castle for you all, I took a pic of a nearby clothes hire shop - it offers a free jacket with any kilt package.  Of course I found the phrase "kilt package" very amusing.  One thing about having the mental age of an 8 year old is one is rarely at a loss for a laugh..

The Easter hols continued long after the Easter weekend was over. 

To keep myself sane I fell back on my tried and tested remedy of gritty detective novels.

This quartet (known as the Red Riding quartet) is brilliant but not for the faint-hearted;  I don't want to be crude but it's battery and buggery all the way, and that's just the good guys....it's set in Yorkshire in the 70s and 80s and features police corruption and child murders, set against the background of the real life Yorkshire Ripper murders.  The four books  are linked, and I am hoping all will be resolved soon as I near the end of the last book, but somehow I am not expecting a happy ending.

Right, time for some more left over Easter egg.


*Dear Mrs Music Teacher, is it a good sign that after £300 of piano lessons (not that I am counting the cost or anything) Boy 2's only ambition is to play the Crazy Frog theme (what I know as the Beverly Hills cop music) as shown on YouTube?

** to make it more accessible to Daphne's parents it was re-titled "Joseph and his Missoni Knitware"