The Planned Post Is Now Toast

Dahlings, I had such a lovely post planned for today.  It was going to be so elegant, so stylish, so sophisticated, so so so...er...

It was going to involve a delicious discussion of eye shadow.  Should I embrace the new eye shadow shape or will I just look like a demented panda let loose on a paintbox?

Very mauve eye shadow look from Harpers

Gwyneth on cover of March's Harpers with
lots of blue eye shadow

Also from Harpers, some complicated stuff with eyeliner  going on here

I was also going to touch on scarves and discuss the fun I have been having trying to learn to tie them a la MaiTai.  MaiTai is the Goddess of Scarves, actually she is quite simply a Goddess, and she has these great how to videos on her blog. http://www.maitaispicturebook.com/  I have decided that remembering to arrange your scarf into the basic bias fold is Key.  It makes all scarves look better, even non-Hermes ones (sigh - note to Mr B: I have been terribly good recently in all sorts of saintly ways I can't quite recall at the moment, surely a Hermes scarflet would be deserved??  NO  - I DON'T CARE WE JUST HAD THE RADIATOR HOUSING THERMOSTAT MCWHATSIT ON THE CAR FIXED FOR THE PRICE OF A HERMES SCARF, IT'S NOT THE SAME..) 

I was going to show you recent scarf purchases. (Note to Mr B: sourced at my spiritual home, Bicester Retail Village and thus heavily discounted (FF 2011) and so begging to be bought, crime not to etc etc)

Fendi scarf from Bicester Village

Dior scarf also from Bicester Village

Lots to look at on scarf

Even a bit of leopard print

I was also planning on a little light discussion of brooches, with which I have become ever so slightly obsessed, ever since I first clapped eyes on Faux Fuchsia's bee and Chanel numbers.  And then a new blogger I have discovered, Mrs Exeter, posted a picture of her recently acquired Chanel brooch. http://dressingmrsexeter.blogspot.com/

I have sourced a few brooches but must admit to having technical difficulties re secure attachment and so things drop off me now and again, at my age I am just thankful it's only a brooch and not teeth or  support garments.

Bee brooch from Butler and Wilson, £28

BUT NO, ALAS, the whole elegant swellegant post has been DERAILED.
Instead of glamour, I bring you:

MRS BLIGHTY JUMPING UP AND DOWN ON A LOAF OF BREAD

 It's all the fault of the bl**dy bread.

I bought Kingsmill Secretly Seeded, seduced by its stealth health claims and the jolly little arrow proclaiming "no bits".

Ha! No way was Boy 1 falling for this: there was much muttering along  the lines of " most disgusting  ....killing me....poison.....toxic....bits...revolting"

This morning for breakfast he requested cheese on toast, which I lovingly made.  Since I had an entire loaf to get rid of, I gambled on him not noticing the Health Bread under 1kg of melted cheese. Big mistake:  howls of anguish from Boy 1. All this with minus 5 minutes to school run.

Suddenly I found myself picking up the whole loaf in its plastic bag and throwing it at him, while ranting about spoilt children; Boy1 deftly parried the incoming loaf missile and burst into tears.  I then grabbed the bread and proceeded to jump up and down on it, at the same time shouting incoherently about starving children in Africa, aware even as I did so this was not very logical behaviour.

Reenactment

Boy 2 then burst into tears.

 Suddenly I was overcome with Maternal Guilt.  I had reduced both boys to tears, even innocent bystander Boy 2,who was no doubt traumatised by sight of mother losing the plot; I had damaged his delicate little psyche. Forever. He would never recover. He was Scarred for Life.

"Sorry darlings, sorry, Mummy is soooooo sorry" I grovelled as I cuddled Boy 2.

Boy 2 sobbed a bit more and then explained that he was NOT crying  because of his mother's nutsy behaviour.  Oh no, our sensitive little soul was wailing for another reason altogether: the biscuit accompaniment to his Muller Crunch Corner was soggy and thus not providing him with the comestible enjoyment to which he has become accustomed..in other words if his brother was going to throw a hissy fit about the breakfast offering, he was sure as hell not going to be left out..

Balls indeed

If you need me, I'll be in the bread aisle of our local supermarket, testing the texture of the bread.  With my feet.

Craving Normalcy

Christmas is well and truly over : tree out, fairy lights hopelessly tangled up and put away ready for next year's annual Swearfest, tinsel more or less hoovered off the carpet, elderly relatives woken up and posted back home.


But we are still not back to normalcy at Blighty HQ. ( Love the word "normalcy", so much more important sounding and transatlantic than "normal" and "normality". It's even got into the Oxford English Dictionary, albeit in brackets with "N. Amer" next to it, I suspect the original draft written by some fusty old codger read "N.Amer oh how ghastly, first hamburgers and now this, whatever next ..." until the editor very wisely took that bit out....)



We have yet to achieve Normalcy chez Blights as Boys 1 and 2 are STILL not back at school. Unbelievable. Their Christmas hols seemed to have lasted about 2 years. It seems a long time since Boxing Day when we did this.



Since playing on the Wii nonstop for 3 weeks, the boys now have to be dragged everywhere



Now all the snow has gone, and so has Mr Blighty - back to his office, including weekends. He is still busy trying to Get Something Out because someone important Needs to See It. Apparently. In my darker moments I wonder if he is just avoiding leftover turkey recipe 51 (rissoles a la Dettol). In exciting news Mr B's boss has been made a "Sir" in the New Years Honours. How I long for Mr B to be knighted, then I could be Lady Blighty which would look really good on my Tesco loyalty card..sadly no chance of that, I am afraid, but a deluded middle aged woman can always dream...



Well, the hols have been very nice, quality time and all that, but please could Boys 1 and 2 go back to school. Now. I need to get on with important motherly activities like reading detective novels, drinking tea and ordering nail polish over the internet - sorry, I mean, making nutritious food for the freezer, ironing and er, stuff like that.


The boys need to go back to school and become reacquainted with Real Life and their lower limbs - they have been doing far to much of this.







Grandma has been doing sterling work entertaining them: reenacting William Tell was perhaps not the best idea but the poker has gone down a treat; every night I just have to make the boys give Grandma back the title deeds to her house and her car keys, and all is well.

But the end is in sight - school beckons this Wed. In preparation I have begun the Shoe Ritual. Boy 2 is putting up a spirited fight against getting hand me down football boots - the latest argument, most forcefully put by Mr Shouty himself, is that he is shrinking, so all these boots are too big and he needs swish new boots from the fancy pants sports shop. Good Effort Boy 2, have you considered a career in politics (but you may wish to turn the volume down first)?

More bl**dy shoes, where do they all come from, do I have 6 children rather than 2?

And now a mystery: where is Louise from Townsville? Yoohoo Louise - are you out there? Louise is due to be in London any day now and I am hoping to meet her. Louise - email me if you read this!!

Finally, I continue to be interested in baby things due to you know who's exciting news (no, I am not talking about Mrs Beckham). Look at this Baby Dior clobber, isn't it all divine? I wonder if they do that pink furry coat in my size? Because there's no chance that I'm shrinking! Not after Christmas!

Just had a thought: if Boy 2 persists with this shrinking malarkey, I shall threaten to buy him this pink coat. That'll put a stop to it.