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..

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..

Better than a Subscription to Vogue??

Dahlings, one of the utter joys I derive from being a parent is the weekly school newsletter; taking into account the school fees, this is probably the most expensive magazine subscription ever, but well worth it for the sheer entertainment value.  So I thought I would reproduce a newsletter here for you, with a tiny bit of artistic whatnot, and of course name changing to protect the not so innocent...

Daphnes4Boyz “Getting On Down wiv a Traditional Educashun”

Weekly Newsletter – Spring Term 2011-01-26 
SPONSORED BY CLEARITALL NIT LOTION : "Spray it on fast, Get them Back to Class!"

Week 2

Reminders and Changes to Arrangements

Friday’s Disco – please note, skateboards and younger siblings must not be brought into the disco.
Music Examinations – boys involved are reminded to bring their instruments. No chewing gum for wind instrumentalists.
School Pick Up Times – parents are reminded that the pick up time for Year 5 is 4.15pm unless they have a younger brother in the school, in which case pick up is 4.13pm, unless there are matches in which case the boys should proceed to match tea, having moved their sports bags back to the changing room together with their school bags, provided they do not need to get Matron to sign any medication forms first; however, if they have clubs or prep that day they should move their school bags before match tea to their classrooms, unless there is no match in which case they should wait on the front step until collected by their class teacher, unless they have a younger brother in the school who is going to Late Boys in the library, in which case they must wait in the foyer and parents should park in the front car park. Please ensure younger siblings not involved in matches do not eat the sandwiches provided for parents of away teams.

Letter from the Headmaster

It has been a pleasure to work through the first week of term. So my staff have told me, via email to the Headmasters’ Retreat I am attending with my wife Maureen in Mauritius. We have been looking at some very interesting topics including mezzanine financing for school catering expansion, securitisation of playing fields and the tax advantages of moving Years 3-5 offshore.


Work is progressing well on the new ice rink and we hope to host our first ice hockey match later this year. The helipad should be back in use next week. Parents are requested to ensure their children duck when being dropped off.

I wish the boys who are sitting entrance exams this term lots of luck. Top tip: always have a clean handkerchief.

Picture from Down with Skool by Geoffrey Willans and Ronald Searle, copyright of the authors, see also fantastic tribute website for Nigel Molesworth http://www.stcustards.free-online.co.uk/

Finally, all boys are reminded that the school dog, Tooting, is out of bounds and under no circumstances are boys to feed him.  The boys caught giving him baked beans last term have been dealt with in the appropriate manner.

Pinky Arbuthnot, Headmaster

Request from the Director of Sport

Picture as before, copyright Willans and Searle

It has come to my attention that some boys are indulging in exhibitionist and sometimes unseemly goal celebration displays during football matches. Boys are reminded that skidding across half the pitch on their knees, performing robot or sprinkler dances or grabbing their groin regions and jiggling about are NOT acceptable. Parents are also requested to refrain from such behaviour.

Mr T Woods, Director of Sport

On-Line Poker Championships

Congratulations to George Osborne (Year 3) for winning the Under 8s On-Line Poker.

From Matron

There has been a case of nits reported in the School Staff room, please will all teachers check their hair, if applicable.

Please can Jeremy Plimsoll’s mother bring in lots of pairs of spare underpants, to avoid Jeremy being embarrassed by having wet pants. We are keen to handle his continued incontinence in a sensitive and confidential manner.

Lost Property

Ferguson, A. – mouthguard, braces, chewing gum, hairdryer
Allen, W. – 3 pairs of glasses, lost last term, saxophone
Smeagol S. - small gold ring
Blighty Major – rugby shorts, rugby top, towel, tracksuit bottoms, blazer, trousers, rugby socks, underpants, football boots, judo suit, Mexican hat, stick on moustache, recorder, tennis racket, hockey stick, house keys, mobile phone, hamster, tie, gloves, sunhat
Blighty Minor – Panasonic flatscreen TV, packet of Ready Salted Crisps, hankerchief (green)
Attenborough Minor – small chimpanzee answering to the name of Ernest
Wells, O. - sledge

Mrs Colpal, Matron

Picture as before, copyright Willans and Searle

Parents Society

Forthcoming Events:

Cake Sale (minimum contribution – 150 cupcakes/£500)
Disco ( skateboards and younger siblings welcome)
Rock and Roll Dancing Evening (in partnership with St John’s Ambulance)
Staff v Fathers Arm Wrestling
N Lawson and O Winfrey

Drama Department

Parents of Y5 boys are advised there is no need to order ready-made Tudor costumes for the forthcoming production of “Off with Her Head”; a simple homemade doublet and hose in gold brocade is sufficient. Mothers proficient at knitting are asked to volunteer to knit replicas of Hampton Court Palace and The Tower of London.

K Winslet, Head of Drama

Match Results

Tues vs St Alcatraz Football

U8A – lost 3-1
U8B1 – lost 5-1
U8D1 – lost 12 - 1
U8D2 – lost 24-23

Stallions A – lost 6-2

Pixies A – lost 15-10

Wed vs Cheltenham Ladies Hockey

U10As – lost 23-1 (match abandoned due to injuries)

Picture as before, copyright Willans and Searle

In Which Mrs B meets Faux Fuchsia in Real Life!!

Faux Fuchsia at Malene Birger, London

Yesterday was beyond exciting! I met up with the divine Faux Fuchsia in London. She is on a world tour, generally cheering up the troops and boosting the morale of people everywhere.

I was Nervous! The boys calmed my nerves by a soothing chorus of " Mummy's going to get murdered! " Nice.

I looked out my best Mummy cardigan, one with not too much dried mashed potato on it.

I did my nails in OPI Dulce di Leche which is good as does not show up if chips!!

I was so excited I took the boys to school in my slippers! Luckily they do not look too much like slippers but really!

FF is, to steal a phrase from her Hungarian friend, Luffly! She looks gorgeous, so glamorous, heads were turning, I jest not (or maybe they were impressed by my clean-ish cardigan?) And all on only a couple of hours sleep (due to jet lag, and her young nephew wanting to party at 4 am in the morning!) And she looks very young, don't be taken in by all that talk she does on her blog about collapsing face!

And she so nice and soooo funny!

We had a fab time. Trouble is, I was so excited and talking so hard I kept forgetting to take photos. But don't worry, FF has got it covered.

We did ceremonial exchanging of gifts. FF gave me this scrummy Hermes perfume, all orangey and citrussy, lovely! And a super pashmina. I felt very spoilt!

I gave her some Chanel lipstick, the girl in the shop told me it was the shade Vanessa Paradis wore in the ad. Watch out for Johnnie Depp, FF!

We "actioned" a trip to Malene Birger in Marylebone High Street. ( I kept doing this really cool thing of saying, it's this way, I know my way around town, and then going off in the wrong direction, and FF would find the way..)

The we tripped the light fantastic in Harvey Nicks, where we were ladies who lunched! Over lunch we workshopped (copyright FF phrase) lots of important issues like Chanel lipstick, nail polish and hair!

<

Puddings were involved.


I thought this PVC number would be practical for me as a Mummy as could be sponged down but FF advised against, something about being too much for poor old Mr B!

We examined Halston for bargains, and pretended we were Bianca Jagger in Studio 54.

And then, because one top drawer department store was not enough, we whizzed off to Libertys!

And then all too soon I had to go back to Blightyland and collect da Boys. Talk about back to earth with a bump!

So thank you for a lovely day out FF, it was a pleasure to meet you.

P.S. Buy the dress!

P.P.S After spending a few hours together I swear I was doing the upward inflection at the end of sentences Aussi Style? And FF was doing the English downwards thing at the end of phrases - or maybe I just wore her out?!!

Time Management Blighty Style

Now the boyz are back at school I have from about 8.30am to 4pm each weekday to Achieve Stuff and perform Housewifely Duties. ( Still no news yet on my Nobel Prize for Housework, some Peruvian chap got one for literature and he had only written about 35 books and plays, I have definitely vaccuum-cleaned more times than that, well, if you count next year's Spring cleaning).

Today I knew I had to be back at the school earlier though to watch Boy 2 play rugby. Last night we were treated to a mini-drama of performance anxiety along the lines of "no, no, I don't want to play rugby, please Mummy, no, no, no." That Peruvian chap should write a play about that. By this morning the mini-drama had resolved itself into "Mum, am I captain?"

So I thought I would share with you my time management skills in a deadline type situation - or as Linda in Chile has told me these management types say" Delivering deliverables in a restricted bandwith scenario".

Step 1

Return from school drop off, make toast, switch on iron, put vaccuum cleaner ready in hall

Step 2

Switch on computer, check emails, then spend 30 mins searching for a nail polish blog you think you saw the other day; in doing so check out 19 other polish blogs; spend 30 mins looking at Miss Kitty Cat's lovely bloggie which you have only just discovered and which is fab - shoes, dresses, more shoes, hotels, shoes, handbags, and did I mention the shoes, to die for?! Post lots of comments on her blog in manner of creepy stalker

http://misskitty-catgoestotown.blogspot.com/

Step 3

Call from Mr Blighty - have you seen email about important parents evening? Er, no. Mentally chastise yourself for bad mothering etc, search for email, realise you have not seen it as email so cluttered up with junk; strangely spam folder full of stuff you actually want to get like lovely picture from Louise ( a very nice, funny lady who faithfully comments on my blog - hi ya Louise!)

Spend 45 mins deleting, un-junking, junking and generally techno faffing

Step 4

Realise with horror that it is now 11 am and toast uneaten; scurry off to kitchen, falling over vaccuum cleaner on the way (who the bl**dy hell left that there!!%$$***)

Step 5

Consume cold toast, put tea in microwave for reheating

Step 6

Realise with horror that have left iron on upstairs; start ironing frantically

Step 7

Return to computer where for reasons not clear to yourself spend time looking at day spa treatments in swish upmarket health/golf club and wondering whether you should book in for the pre-wedding package (had no idea I was getting married, life is full of surprises)

Step 8

Return to earth, realise with horror that kitchen bin is less than fragrant, frantically action bin renewal operation (=empty the bin), fall over vaccuum cleaner again.

Step 9

Decide to Go Out as nice weather and need to return library books and take recycling mountain to recycling centre; place books and recycling in hallway

Step 10

Pick up car keys, then find yourself upstairs vaccuuming madly, dusting, humming etc

Step 11

Bring vaccuum cleaner downstairs, fall over recycling

Step 12

Now 1pm; must Push On; arrive at library and have nice relaxed chat with librarian about her nail polish ( "Nail polish bringing people together"); then spend 25 mins wondering whether you need to see important film about Afghan goatherders or whether a romcom might be more fun

Step 14 ( there is no step 13 as I don't hold with silly superstitions)

Arrive back at home about 1.35pm. Realise need to leave for rugby match at 2.15pm. Decide now a good time to make cup cakes, eat lunch and paint fingernails (green to match cardigan).

Step 15

2.20pm - bl**dy hell what moron decided to paint their nails, there is green polish everywhere but on actual nails

2.25pm - bl**dy hell what moron put these cakes in the oven, they are not cooked but need to go to rugby; cannot put on oven gloves due to nail polish not being dry

Step 16

2.35pm Arrive at rugby, note that at least 5 matches are going on, cannot tell which one Boy 2 is in. Find team, start cheering enthusiastically, realise that this is not Boy 2's team.

Find Boy 2's team, just in time to see Boy 2 leave pitch as he has been substituted off..

Step 17

Return home with Boys 1 and 2; find cold cup of tea in microwave

Of course, you can't all expect to achieve this level of time management immediately, it has taken me years to perfect this technique..

My Mother, Joan Crawford and coathangers

I have been musing on how to increase the traffic to my blog. It would be quite wrong of course randomly to mention the sort of brands people might put into Google searches. Quite wrong.

CHANEL PARTICULIERE

CHANEL PARADOXAL (apparently this is the new "must have" colour, a sort of purple)

AVAILABLE TO BUY

Yes, quite wrong, cynical and a cheap trick.

BALENCIAGA

LOUBOUTIN

WRIGLEYS SPEARMINT GUM, er, no, I give up, can't think of any more..

Meanwhile my mother appears to have gone mad and has asked me twice now over the phone to buy her Woolite delicates wash, apparently it's not available in any of the 94 supermarkets where she lives. Quite what has brought on this sudden need for Woolite I do not know. Dear Lord, what if she's drinking the stuff?? Is this the new designer drug for the over 70s? Will she be featured on some gritty documentary? Will she start blowing bubbles? And from where? The whole thing is a worry.

Grandma's Favourite Tipple?

I've not mentioned my mother before because She Would Not Approve. There is much which meets with her disapproval, for example:

uncertainty about when the next meal will be served

vegetables that have not been boiled for at least 2 hours

shoes which are not sensible

small boys who shout "Oh no, it's Grandma Whacker" and appear at the dinner table wearing their bike helmets
untrimmed hedges

untrimmed hair

Spending Money

Getting Overtired

Staying up too Late

Rushing about

Gudgey cakes

The latter are my speciality. Mother does make me laugh about these though. "This cake is very gudgey and too sweet" she says, as she chews disapprovingly. " Would you like another piece?" I ask her. "Yes please", she replies, without a hint of irony. It reminds me of the joke about the people complaining about their hotel - "The food was terrible, and the portions so small..."

In other exciting news I have been hunting down coathangers. I hate nasty coathangers, particularly the wire variety. I have been carrying out a hanger renewal programme, trying to weed out the horrid ones. But now I have cornered them, what should I do with them?

(No, Miss Crawford, that's not a helpful succession, but thanks anyway).

How can I store them neatly? Why do MrB's cupboards magically breed wire hangers? I tell you, it's a jungle out there, in Blighty's airing cupboard.

Finally my quote for the day. This was not a success. Boys not impressed. "Don't get it!" was the response. Will have to fall back on the classics, like quotes from Power Rangers or Scooby-Do. Yes, great idea. "Those pesky kids!" I like that!

Intrepid adventures of B and Blighty Part 2

WARNING: THIS POST HAS A HIGH CALORIE CONTENT


Dear Ladies, still more to tell you of what B and I got up to!


These pictures record a little trip we made to Wendover, a small market town in the Chilterns. There are woods high on the hills above the town which form a lovely backdrop to the town. With all this picturesque-ness happening, instead of scenery, I ended up taking pictures of cakes and more cakes!

After our arduous drive (all of 11 miles) we needed refreshments. A friend had tipped me off that Rumseys, a cafe/chocolaterie was THE place to go. So we partook of cappuccinos, lemon polenta cake with vanilla ice cream, and carrot cake with pistachio ice cream. Yum.

Below, they had an old-fashioned cash register, but only for show. Modern banking has reached these parts.

More cakes, we saw the chef dipping the strawberries in choc and putting the finishing touches to this cake.

Did I mention they also make their own chocolates on the premises?

Well sugared up and happily replete, we sallied bravely forth to see what Wendover had to offer. What we found was more cakes.

These pictures are of the window of a little shop which sells everything a cake maker could want. They had gone for a beach theme- sandcastles above and flipflops below.

And ice lollies.

Superior cupcakes.

They had an amazing array of cake decorations. I was tempted by a little football figure for Boy 2's next birthday cake, then I remembered his emotional collapse during the England v Germany match and thought better not....

They had very fancy flowers too.

All made out of icing. But the lady in the shop warned me that they should not really be eaten as they have lots of wire in them. She obviously knew I was the sort of person who would try eating them.

And look, a cake stand like the organised mothers had at Sports Day. I too could be organised!

But not £30 worth of organised!

We had such a caketastic time!

Finally, we did a little walk through the meadow and by the canal/river.

All very pretty. I kept expecting to see Heidi. Lovely B gagged me when I broke into "The hills are alive with the sound of.."

The river looked pretty in the hot sun. Lovely B and I worried about the houses nearby and the risk of flooding and the effect on their insurance. We tend to get carried away by the romance of the moment.

Lovely B and I admired this lawn. Stripes. Very superior indeed. A lot of work has gone into that lawn. My lawn is mainly moss, even the moss has moss growing in it. And there are lots of brown patches now.

After that we went home. For a snack. Hungry work, all this sightseeing.

Iron Willpower

Mrs B styling her hair, languidly

As a domestic goddess and top housewife, I always action household tasks without delay.

Sorry, just climbed back on my chair, I think I may have pulled a muscle laughing.

So imagine my dismay at this unhappy scene.

(The giveaway as to how long this lot has been lingering is the summery clothes; it’s been at least 2 weeks now since summer ended here in Blightyland).

It was IMPERATIVE that I dealt with this immediately.


Which is why I went straight to the kitchen to make cupcakes. We have no obvious need for cupcakes but I genuinely felt we could not go on without any. To extend the cupcake process further, I debuted an icing bag thingie I had bought from the Lakeland catalogue about 3 years ago (when I was in the full throes of a nasty case of catalogitis freeshippingtons with a side order of kitchen gadget fever). Actually I have used the kit just once before, I had the brilliant idea of using it to pump Bolognese sauce into cannelloni; the results were spectacular, but not in a good way.

I need a lot more practice with the icing bag, more shot out the top than the bottom. I also overdid the food colouring – I am hoping the boys will come down off the ceiling soon.

To my total surprise I then found myself not at the ironing board but in the nearby town, pootling round the shops. How did that happen? I was astounded. Possible explanations:

• I was abducted against my will by aliens, who, later realising I was no good to experiment on, instead dropped me off at the Weeping Willows Shoppe Centre;
• I was just on my way to fill the iron up with water when I fell into a trance-like state and drove to the shops;
• Faced with the prospect of ironing I realised that life as we know it would end unless I got Boy 1 a Reader Windball ™and, for myself, some Seche Vite topcoat for my nails.*
*Both highly specialised items of equipment, both smell strange but only one used by cricketers; actually I wouldn’t be too sure about that.

Mr B will of course be told that the first or possibly the second are the only credible explanations but I am prepared to admit here entre nous that it was the last. Mrs Trefusis, whose blog I enjoy, referred a while ago to the term “Bunburying” which comes from Oscar Wilde’s “The Importance of Being Earnest”. Algernon, one of the characters in the play, has invented an sick friend called Bunbury whom he always needs to visit, when he wants to get himself out of onerous social commitments. The need to visit the shops when faced with unappealing domestic tasks would seem to be my version of Bunburying.

Fortunately for Western civilisation I was able to purchase the cricket ball. I then proceeded to Sallys, a jolly chain of shops which sells beauty supplies to trade and consumers. I had a most enjoyable time there: They had OPI polish. They had Seche Vite. They even had Pervo Gloves.


OPI on sale!! But did not buy. Why??

Moroccan oil