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?"

In Which I am Almost Elizabeth Hurley

Dahlings, me and Miss Elizabeth Hurley have long led parallel lives....we are practically indistinguishable...(climbs back onto chair after mad fit of laughing at own joke as usual...)

As I may have mentioned in passing  a propos of nothing at all to a few people Everybody I Know (plus a terrified stranger in the frozen foods section of Tesco), Boy 1 went to the same posho pre-prep school in London attended by Miss Hurley's son....in fact, I did say hello to her once: she was waiting to put money in the parking meter and I was trying to get Boy 2 to relinquish his death grip on said parking meter after I made the mistake of letting him feed in the coins...as I wrestled with the octopus like Boy 2 who clung on like a demented limpet while turning puce, I feel me and Miss Hurley really bonded... (note to self: need to calm down on the marine imagery/Jacques Cousteau dvds).


Here's Boy 1 back in the day:

And here is further visual evidence that we were batting way out of our league by signing up for that school: *

From CBBC News website

From Famecrawler website - yes really

Later my life and that of Miss Hurley again interconnected: the very week news of Miss Hurley's relationship to Shane Warne became public, highly compromising photos of me surfaced on the internet** and I was forced to deny rumours of an involvement with cricketer Wayne Shorn.

 And now we have another convergence.  You may recall Miss Hurley's elaborate wedding complete with Indian costume and dancing.

From Hello magazine

Well, only the other night I attended Greggs Grammar's very own Bollywood evening.

Here's my outfit.

Mr Blighty came too and I knew we were in for a good night when he mentioned he was going to leave his vest off as he might get too hot.  Phwoarrrr Mr Blighty, you animal you!

Mr Blighty followed the dance demonstration by Mr Jay Kumar very carefully - he particularly liked the move known as "change the light bulb" (though he did express concerns about whether Mr Kumar was properly certified as an electrician).  Tremendous fun! Here's a clip Mr Kumar in action.

Better go now dahlings, I'm expecting a call from Estee Lauder's people...

T, thanks for the bindi, sets off my eyes a treat

 *But worth every penny in terms of the anecdotes I have wrung out of it...

** ok, I admit I put the photos on the internet myself and on my own blog, but it's not easy being a D list sleb you know..



Why I should never help with homework

Dahlings, long time no blog!

So Boy 1 has started Really Big School, no more Daphnes4Boyz, country club with lessons. Now he is at the local state* grammar school for boys, let's call it Greggs Grammar.



After a carefree summer my big boy put away his shorts and T-shirts and went back to the daily grind; also Boy 1 went  to his new school

 Keen that Boy 1 makes a good impression, I am helping with homework as required.

Today he had to design some sort of heraldic shield for Religious Instruction.

He got a bit stuck on thinking up a motto.

"MUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAMMMMM!" he requested softly, in his usual dulcet tones, "THINK OF A MOTTO. NOW. COME ON!"

I came up with a few suggestions:
Just Do It.
Work, Rest and Play.
Go to work on an egg.
Mind the gap.

No good.

I studied the design carefully. I concluded the key elements were:
fear of heights;
keen on footie and ping pong.

"I've got it", I announced triumphantly:

"Keep Your Feet On the Ground and Your Balls in the Air."

Really I'm wasted here.



In the end Boy 1 opted for the more succint "Believe in my sport." He looked at me with pity: "When you say something you think is funny, you laugh, and then you keep on laughing, long after it isn't funny..." Harsh but fair.

* This means it's FREE. No more school fees. It takes extreme willpower to refrain from throwing myself at the staff, sobbing "I can't believe all this is free, thank you, thank you...."

Blighty in Paris

Dahlings, I've just had a mini break  in Paris with Mr B and the boys.

Here's a list of things our trip did not involve:
Hermes
Chanel
Cartier
Louis Vuitton
Rue Cambon
Place Vendome

Here are some of the things it did offer us:
cranes
grumpy waiters
graveyards
strictly regulated grass
some famous painting or other
cakes
architecture

Cimetiere de Montparnasse

Louvre with cranes

Spot of rain in Montmartre

Jardins de Luxembourg - pelouse interdite

Jardins de Luxembourg - pelouse autorisee

Pompy Poo Centre (as referred to by Boys 1 and 2)

Mrs B carries out impromptu nit check at top of L'Arc de Triomphe

Mr B goes all arty with the camera

It was great fun, we had a lot of laughs - some at my expense after I dragged everyone to the Telegraphe metro station as I had read on the internet there were great views from there.  We arrive - yes, we are high up, views no, as we are surrounded by buildings.  I imagine some geeks from MIT caught us on their net cam  - "yay, Eric, we got some more losers who fell for the old Telegraph Metro joke.."

And the whole trip was not in vain either from an educational point of view - once we got home, Boy 2 modestly ventured that he could actually speak some French - and rattled off,
"Peux-je aller aux toilettes, s'il vous plait Madame?"
My bosom swelleth, as they say.

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?

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

Creating Problems

Dahlings, this is just a little experiment to see if I can compose posts on the old iPad as I continue to have technical issues with the computer - small boys attached to the mouse permanently, removal even by Taser proving unsuccessful (some nonsense about their Yuman Rights..)

Just the other day Boy 2 raised an interesting yet tricky question following a Religious Education lesson at Daphnes4Boyz: if God created only Adam and Eve, and they had children (Cain and Abel or is that just a novel by Jeffrey Archer?), then who did they er have sex procreate with?? Of course being an open and liberal type of parent I simply shrieked "TIME FOR BED!" before the discussion took a turn I did not fancy..."But Mummy, it's only 5pm!" But the question does trouble me. However, I think I have found a very clear and child friendly explanation.

WARNING: THIS IS HIGHLY OFFENSIVE AND ACTUALLY NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN AND APOLOGIES IF THIS OFFENDS YOU. IT IS SOUTHPARK AFTER ALL.

On second thoughts, perhaps not.

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.

Costume Drama

Boy 2 - are you sure penguins are endangered?

 Dahlings, you know how I like to give useful parenting advice from time to time?  Well here I go again.

Once you have a child
If you are expecting a baby
If you are thinking about having a baby
If there is any possibility of contact with a member of the opposite sex, then
 you need to hire a small warehouse NOW and stock it with the following items:

N.B. this is not going to be a list  of baby paraphenalia, no, that's easy, you can pick that up anywhere, what I am talking about is hardcore preparation for the horror that is School Costumes. Because from the minute your offspring hits nursery, it will be required to dress up in clothes which are not its own;  I estimate that in any given month during school term, Boys 1 and 2 spend 8 days at least not in their own clothes. I sometimes wonder if our children are being prepared for a life in pantomine. And, very important this bit, you will often get 0 days notice that a costume is required because your child will have lost the letter/you won't have got the email and you will find out by chance at the eleventh hour when your child's friend phones up to ask what national monument your child is going as, as his Mummy has just knitted him a Taj Mahal outfit but he is not sure if that is ok, and she only has the Eiffel Tower which she made out of meringues last year for his sister as back up.....

i know it does not look anything like a polar bear but it was the best I could do ok?

1. Polar bear,  brown bear, sheep, cow, mouse, dog, cat, elephant, hippo, giraffe, any other animal you can think of,  outfit
2. Bunch of grapes outfit - including purple balloons but be careful to check your child's weight against number of balloons otherwise you will have to contact Air Traffic Control
3. Mexican outfit including large fake moustache which will get lost at school and later be found under glass in the Year 8 Biology Lab
4. Greek outfit (but not soldier as schools do not like weaponry and war-like stuff as creates wrong atmosphere at playtime)
5. Celtic outfit - something mud coloured with a bit of tartan thrown in; they will go to an outdoor Celtic camp and build fires and make clay pots and return wearing something tartan with a lot of mud thrown over
6. Roman outfit (same as Greek outfit, explain to your child Romans were big thrift shoppers)
7. Tudor outfit (note, most boys do not like going as Anne Boleyn)
8. Endangered animal outfit*
9. Amusing polka dot outfit
10. Amusing pyjama outfit (need special nice pjs, cannot let the world see the normal scrotty pants and old vest, both with embarassing holes in, actually used for sleeping)
11. Footballer outfit (must be current home or away strip of team of choice)
12. Outfits in colours of all national flags worldwide (worth contacting the UN or an international affairs think tank for list of countries most likely to be fighting for democracy over next few years so you can really focus in on these)
13. There is no number 13 as I am in no way superstitious
14. Assorted Halloween outfits - they will start out as cute little ghosts before graduating to Dr Death and Freddie Kruger and having to be told they can't borrow Dad's chainsaw for the evening
15. Assorted Easter bonnets - if you can manage one with real butterflies, baby chicks and lambs on, that would be good
16. Assorted Christmas hats - start with a cute snowman and then later they get max kudos from their friends with an  "I'm with Stupid" hat
17. Nativity play outfits - Wise Man, shepherd, angel, Mary, Joseph, health visitor, camel
18. World War II evacuee outfit (and look out for the kid who has a real gas mask in its leather case left over from the war)
19. Coins of various denominations as your child will be required to pay for the privilege of dressing as a squirrel etc and the school will specify the precise coins required as they will be used to make an amusing collage before being sent to the relevant charity...it is helpful to invest a modest amount (£5000) not later than your child's first birthday to cover these costume related tariffs.

Yikes, too Hitchcock The Birds!

The above is just the bare minimum, but if you at least have these items handy, this should cut down on some costume related stress.

Boy 1 will be endangered if I catch him playing football in the kitchen again

Next week: how to make a 3 D model of a plant cell using mashed potatoe and olives.

* Endangered animal was our most recent costume drama; it may help to relieve one's feelings by stumping around the house shouting "Endangered species, endangered species, I'll show you an endangered species: a mother who is still sane and solvent after putting together all these flipping costumes...."