As I sit here, waiting for those lovely chaps from John Lewis to deliver a new tumble drier, I realise a theme is emerging. I am also waiting for a Tesco delivery, which was supposed to come between 9 and 11.
The time is inching up to 10.47, and Tesco is playing with fire. I am very fickle with my supermarkets these days. I discovered that, if you get a couple of internet deliveries, from any of the big supermarkets, and then stop abruptly, they will start sending you money-off vouchers.
Ocado, being middle-class and, therefore, insecure and needy, begins almost immediately, pelting my inbox with desperate little love tokens (free model of an Ocado van? That is soooo not going to do it, guys. Try chocolate. Lots of it!). If you don't take pity and give in too soon, it will soon be waving quite healthy reductions at you. Tesco, being big and brash, is less bothered about one-order stands and takes months to realise you've even defected. When it finally clocks that you've been getting your trolley filled elsewhere, though, it will try and sweep you off your feet with an impressively large voucher. Sainsbury's I've found harder to fathom. I don't think I've ever actually managed to accomplish an order with Sainsbury's. I certainly did try, a couple of years ago, but I think it either crashed much too soon or simply went on and on forever with the checkout proceedure - both techniques sure to disappoint a girl.
Ah, if Lidl only delivered, then I'm sure I would be a one-store woman. Until then, I'm left to play the field. And wait. And wait!
Tuesday, 7 July 2009
Friday, 3 July 2009
What a to-do
I don't know about you, but things are beginning to get on top of me. School seems to have turned into a blur of summer fairs, recitals, sports day T-shirts needing finding, then ironing, concerts, very contentious prize-givings (why hasn't my lubly Child Two got one, may I just ask? Grrrrr!). Meanwhile, holiday plans with Mr X are completely on the blink, the garden hasn't been done in an age (thank God all the weeds have died in the heatwave), my trusty Dyson has barely seen the light of day all week (and that's a long, long time for me) and, though I painted my front door in a fit of manic enthusiasm on Monday, I can't really ignore the fact that it is extremely lumpy and I shall probably now have to pay someone to do it properly. Mind you, it did serve its purpose at the time of keeping my windmilling mind off the dire fates which would befall Child Two's bete noire, if I ever got my hands on her, that is.
Added to all that, I also have a whole list of things I really ought to blog about. While this is lovely, in a way - though I have never yet suffered blog-block, I live in fear of the fear, which is just ridiculously typical. So a queue of possible posts is, in one way, a godsend. In another, it's just one more nagging to-do list.
Today, I hardly have time to type even this as I've got to go and listen to Child Two singing in the choir and restrain myself from machine-gunning the teaching staff, which will be no mean feat. So I'll just quickly mention those darling folk at HP, who are the proud producers of my printer. This would be printing away merrily as we speak, if I hadn't ordered the wrong ink cartridges. Doh! It even says the right number on the Front of the Instructions, it couldn't really make things any easier. But of course I ordered something totally different and now face the boredom of sending it back and getting the right one. Sigh.
Printing our mugs was better. You have to go to a separate website to do this, called Snapfish, where you can download all manner of photo albums, cards and bitty bobs. HP gave me credits to get two mugs, and I also got two for TL's littlies. They are all Disney - my specialist subject these days - and I was treated to a good half-hour of my girls bickering over which princesses to put on their mugs. How it took me back to the arguments of yore! Once they had decided (one Ariel, one Cinderella) we had to select photos and crop them into the space, which took about an hour and was a bit painful. A day later, the mugs arrived, and have been much loved ever since. We are also supposed to be doing a photo album but I shall have to lie down for a bit to recover before broaching the website again.
That's all for now. Keep watching the news - if a Dulwich woman is arrested for a string of teacher murders, you'll know who it was!
Added to all that, I also have a whole list of things I really ought to blog about. While this is lovely, in a way - though I have never yet suffered blog-block, I live in fear of the fear, which is just ridiculously typical. So a queue of possible posts is, in one way, a godsend. In another, it's just one more nagging to-do list.
Today, I hardly have time to type even this as I've got to go and listen to Child Two singing in the choir and restrain myself from machine-gunning the teaching staff, which will be no mean feat. So I'll just quickly mention those darling folk at HP, who are the proud producers of my printer. This would be printing away merrily as we speak, if I hadn't ordered the wrong ink cartridges. Doh! It even says the right number on the Front of the Instructions, it couldn't really make things any easier. But of course I ordered something totally different and now face the boredom of sending it back and getting the right one. Sigh.
Printing our mugs was better. You have to go to a separate website to do this, called Snapfish, where you can download all manner of photo albums, cards and bitty bobs. HP gave me credits to get two mugs, and I also got two for TL's littlies. They are all Disney - my specialist subject these days - and I was treated to a good half-hour of my girls bickering over which princesses to put on their mugs. How it took me back to the arguments of yore! Once they had decided (one Ariel, one Cinderella) we had to select photos and crop them into the space, which took about an hour and was a bit painful. A day later, the mugs arrived, and have been much loved ever since. We are also supposed to be doing a photo album but I shall have to lie down for a bit to recover before broaching the website again.
That's all for now. Keep watching the news - if a Dulwich woman is arrested for a string of teacher murders, you'll know who it was!
Friday, 26 June 2009
London mourns MJ
Check out London commuters mourning Michael Jackson in their own special way: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X6EDAZ3crdY&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Flondon%2Dunderground%2Eblogspot%2Ecom%2F2009%2F06%2Fmichael%2Djackson%2Dtube%2Dthriller%2Ehtml&feature=player_embedded
In fact, this was shot to celebrate the 25th anniversary of Thriller, but it seems appropriate today. I lifted the link from fellow tweeter @jackschofield, thank you! I love the fact that no-one, but no-one stares as the dancers get wilder and wilder. What would make a London commuter stare, I wonder? Could anything? And the polite smattering of applause at the end is wonderful, absolutely typical London.
The radio stations, of course, are playing wall to wall Michael. The girls and I always listen to Capital in the mornings. Believe it or not, I actually missed Capital when I lived Abroad, although now, through the magic of the Internet, you can listen to it on your computer. It was the radio station of my teenage years and I still love it. I once won a T shirt in a phone-in competition, I wonder where it is now?
Capital is on a roll at the moment, with its breakfast show presenters Johnny Vaughn (could be irritating but just about gets away with smartarse comments) and Lisa Snowdon (runner up in the last series of Strictly and used to go out with George Clooney! Yes, really!). Johnny's previous sidekick laydee was Denise Van Outen, who was also lovely but somehow Lisa manages to be that little bit warmer. My ravishing friend Lulu at www.familyaffairsandothermatters.blogspot.com has written about the station recently. I must say it does bring a dash of joy to our mornings. There have been two things in particular which have struck me:
1. A tip from a caller to use hair conditioner when shaving your legs. She recommended Pantene, which I use anyway. Try it - slap it on, shave the leg. I think it really works brilliantly, leaving your legs smooth and soft, and no doubt tremendously manageable as well.
2. A story from a caller who owned a snake. This lady said she'd worried because her snake had stopped eating. She took it to the vet, who gave her some pills. A month later, the snake still wasn't eating, so she popped back to the vet. Was there any difference in its behaviour, the vet asked? The owner thought hard, and said not really, but she was very touched because the snake had taken to lying down next to her in bed. The vet immediately turned pale and told her to get rid of the snake as soon as she got home. Why, the lady asked? "It's been preparing its stomach and then it's been measuring you. It's planning to eat you!" said the vet.
That story makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up!
Now Capital has come up with a third highlight - its current Wimbledon Grunting competition. Every morning, Lisa or Johnny take on a member of the public in a display of simulated tennis grunting. I admit I am not a Wimbledon fan, and there is something more than a little suggestive about all the noises they come out with, but this competition is absolutely hilarious. I had to stop the car yesterday because I was laughing so much. Thank you, Capital!
In fact, this was shot to celebrate the 25th anniversary of Thriller, but it seems appropriate today. I lifted the link from fellow tweeter @jackschofield, thank you! I love the fact that no-one, but no-one stares as the dancers get wilder and wilder. What would make a London commuter stare, I wonder? Could anything? And the polite smattering of applause at the end is wonderful, absolutely typical London.
The radio stations, of course, are playing wall to wall Michael. The girls and I always listen to Capital in the mornings. Believe it or not, I actually missed Capital when I lived Abroad, although now, through the magic of the Internet, you can listen to it on your computer. It was the radio station of my teenage years and I still love it. I once won a T shirt in a phone-in competition, I wonder where it is now?
Capital is on a roll at the moment, with its breakfast show presenters Johnny Vaughn (could be irritating but just about gets away with smartarse comments) and Lisa Snowdon (runner up in the last series of Strictly and used to go out with George Clooney! Yes, really!). Johnny's previous sidekick laydee was Denise Van Outen, who was also lovely but somehow Lisa manages to be that little bit warmer. My ravishing friend Lulu at www.familyaffairsandothermatters.blogspot.com has written about the station recently. I must say it does bring a dash of joy to our mornings. There have been two things in particular which have struck me:
1. A tip from a caller to use hair conditioner when shaving your legs. She recommended Pantene, which I use anyway. Try it - slap it on, shave the leg. I think it really works brilliantly, leaving your legs smooth and soft, and no doubt tremendously manageable as well.
2. A story from a caller who owned a snake. This lady said she'd worried because her snake had stopped eating. She took it to the vet, who gave her some pills. A month later, the snake still wasn't eating, so she popped back to the vet. Was there any difference in its behaviour, the vet asked? The owner thought hard, and said not really, but she was very touched because the snake had taken to lying down next to her in bed. The vet immediately turned pale and told her to get rid of the snake as soon as she got home. Why, the lady asked? "It's been preparing its stomach and then it's been measuring you. It's planning to eat you!" said the vet.
That story makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up!
Now Capital has come up with a third highlight - its current Wimbledon Grunting competition. Every morning, Lisa or Johnny take on a member of the public in a display of simulated tennis grunting. I admit I am not a Wimbledon fan, and there is something more than a little suggestive about all the noises they come out with, but this competition is absolutely hilarious. I had to stop the car yesterday because I was laughing so much. Thank you, Capital!
Monday, 15 June 2009
Cheering up
Feeling a little better, due to three factors:
1. This amazing Jackson Pollock widget (see righthand side of blog, underneath 'subscribe to DD'). All you do is let your cursor lead you a merry dance. Every time you click, the colour of the trail will change. And all the colours co-ordinate with each other! It's heaven. I copied this from clever Suburbia's lovely blog, Moments from Suburbia. Thank you, it's really cheered me up!
2. Cadbury's chocolate peanuts. These, as I have already reported, are a little disappointing - very small in size, a bit similar in appearance, I'm afraid, to bunny droppings. They don't taste particularly chocolatey, either. Frankly, I prefer unknown brand Jamesons. BUT during my last few snarfing sessions on the sofa, I have chortled not inconsiderably over the back of the packet. Yes, laborious instructions on how to reseal the bag, to keep the contents fresh, when you put them away in the cupboard in between snacking sessions. Ahahahaha! As if!
3. Lovely friends. Thanks!
1. This amazing Jackson Pollock widget (see righthand side of blog, underneath 'subscribe to DD'). All you do is let your cursor lead you a merry dance. Every time you click, the colour of the trail will change. And all the colours co-ordinate with each other! It's heaven. I copied this from clever Suburbia's lovely blog, Moments from Suburbia. Thank you, it's really cheered me up!
2. Cadbury's chocolate peanuts. These, as I have already reported, are a little disappointing - very small in size, a bit similar in appearance, I'm afraid, to bunny droppings. They don't taste particularly chocolatey, either. Frankly, I prefer unknown brand Jamesons. BUT during my last few snarfing sessions on the sofa, I have chortled not inconsiderably over the back of the packet. Yes, laborious instructions on how to reseal the bag, to keep the contents fresh, when you put them away in the cupboard in between snacking sessions. Ahahahaha! As if!
3. Lovely friends. Thanks!
Friday, 12 June 2009
Slipping through my fingers
I have the loveliest Fridays in the world. I drop the cherubs at school, walk round the park with a friend, have an art lesson, then go on to Pilates. Today I also had a mummy's lunch with three friends.
So why did I wake up in tears?
It was partly that, in a dream, I conjured up a little dress that Child Two used to wear when she was about 2 and a half (my favourite age). It was a beautiful little pinafore dress, in soft corduroy, in a shade of celestial blue so gorgeous I've never found before or since. On the front it had 'In the Garden' embroidered in navy with two little flowers. She looked adorable in it.
Seeing that dress again in a dream chimed with a beautiful recent post by Rosiero about her daughter, Kay, having her last day at school, which she tied in with the song Slipping Through My Fingers from Mamma Mia. I deliberately didn't watch the clip, knowing I would end up in tears, but the mood of melancholy seeped into me anyway. My little girl in the blue dress is lost forever, now a different person and on the brink of adolescence. That would always have been the case, no matter what happened between X and me, but I have ripped up so much of my own volition that now, I cannot share my memories of that little girl in the blue dress with anyone.
Another part of my dream featured a single friend, who often joins me and the girls on outings, who this time went into the most spectacular strop at having to watch their ballroom dancing lesson. Another friend, who has Way Too Much therapy, says that in a dream, all the characters are, in fact, representations of yourself. Was I projecting my own boredom at watching the children's lessons? Actually, I really enjoy going to all their dancing classes as I chat relentlessly with other mummy friends, but it made me wonder.
All week, I have had ridiculous, unfounded nagging worries about leaving the iron on/front door open/side gate unlatched. At Pilates, the teacher asked me if I was stressed as my shoulders were up by my ears. Another friend brought up the question of Scarlet Women and I spent a long time berating myself for my actions three years ago - though I do tell myself there were mitigating circumstances. Then I discovered today I had made a really stupid mistake in an article (sorry, Linda!!). Not something I would normally do.
What is going on? Am I sliding down into depression again (I am usually the last to know)? Or is it just the guilt? I think I need a holiday. And not, I suspect, the nine-week, school-free stretch looming ahead. Or, maybe, just maybe, I should stop being so self-indulgent, pull myself together and count my many, many blessings more thoroughly this time
So why did I wake up in tears?
It was partly that, in a dream, I conjured up a little dress that Child Two used to wear when she was about 2 and a half (my favourite age). It was a beautiful little pinafore dress, in soft corduroy, in a shade of celestial blue so gorgeous I've never found before or since. On the front it had 'In the Garden' embroidered in navy with two little flowers. She looked adorable in it.
Seeing that dress again in a dream chimed with a beautiful recent post by Rosiero about her daughter, Kay, having her last day at school, which she tied in with the song Slipping Through My Fingers from Mamma Mia. I deliberately didn't watch the clip, knowing I would end up in tears, but the mood of melancholy seeped into me anyway. My little girl in the blue dress is lost forever, now a different person and on the brink of adolescence. That would always have been the case, no matter what happened between X and me, but I have ripped up so much of my own volition that now, I cannot share my memories of that little girl in the blue dress with anyone.
Another part of my dream featured a single friend, who often joins me and the girls on outings, who this time went into the most spectacular strop at having to watch their ballroom dancing lesson. Another friend, who has Way Too Much therapy, says that in a dream, all the characters are, in fact, representations of yourself. Was I projecting my own boredom at watching the children's lessons? Actually, I really enjoy going to all their dancing classes as I chat relentlessly with other mummy friends, but it made me wonder.
All week, I have had ridiculous, unfounded nagging worries about leaving the iron on/front door open/side gate unlatched. At Pilates, the teacher asked me if I was stressed as my shoulders were up by my ears. Another friend brought up the question of Scarlet Women and I spent a long time berating myself for my actions three years ago - though I do tell myself there were mitigating circumstances. Then I discovered today I had made a really stupid mistake in an article (sorry, Linda!!). Not something I would normally do.
What is going on? Am I sliding down into depression again (I am usually the last to know)? Or is it just the guilt? I think I need a holiday. And not, I suspect, the nine-week, school-free stretch looming ahead. Or, maybe, just maybe, I should stop being so self-indulgent, pull myself together and count my many, many blessings more thoroughly this time
Tuesday, 9 June 2009
Why men don't write advice columns
Ouf! That was all a bit heavy yesterday, wasn't it, with the Mummy Wars? Here's a joke from my lovely friend C to cheer us all up:
Dear Roger,
I hope you can help me. The other day, I set off for work leaving my husband in the house watching the TV. I hadn't driven more than a mile down the road when the engine conked out and the car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home to get my husband's help.
When I got home I couldn't believe my eyes. He was in our bedroom with the neighbour's daughter.
I am 32, my husband is 34, and the neighbour's daughter is 22. We have been married for ten years.When I confronted him, he broke down and admitted that they had been having an affair for the past six months. I told him to stop or I would leave him. He was made redundant six months ago and he says he has been feeling increasingly depressed and worthless.
I love him very much, but ever since I gave him the ultimatum he has become more and more distant. He won't go to counselling and I'm afraid I can't get through to him anymore.
Can you please help?
Sincerely, Sheila
Dear Sheila,
A car stalling after being driven a short distance can be caused by a variety of faults with the engine. Start by checking that there is no debris in the fuel line. If it is clear, check the vacuum pipes and hoses on the intake manifold and also check all grounding wires. If none of these approaches solves the problem, it could be that the fuel pump itself is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the injectors.
I hope this helps,
Roger
Dear Roger,
I hope you can help me. The other day, I set off for work leaving my husband in the house watching the TV. I hadn't driven more than a mile down the road when the engine conked out and the car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home to get my husband's help.
When I got home I couldn't believe my eyes. He was in our bedroom with the neighbour's daughter.
I am 32, my husband is 34, and the neighbour's daughter is 22. We have been married for ten years.When I confronted him, he broke down and admitted that they had been having an affair for the past six months. I told him to stop or I would leave him. He was made redundant six months ago and he says he has been feeling increasingly depressed and worthless.
I love him very much, but ever since I gave him the ultimatum he has become more and more distant. He won't go to counselling and I'm afraid I can't get through to him anymore.
Can you please help?
Sincerely, Sheila
Dear Sheila,
A car stalling after being driven a short distance can be caused by a variety of faults with the engine. Start by checking that there is no debris in the fuel line. If it is clear, check the vacuum pipes and hoses on the intake manifold and also check all grounding wires. If none of these approaches solves the problem, it could be that the fuel pump itself is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the injectors.
I hope this helps,
Roger
Monday, 8 June 2009
Guilt tripping
Huge hoo-ha about working and non-working mothers over at Alphamummy, with the slightly peculiar notion that those of us who aren't in the office 24/7 are living lives of gin-soaked misery. Potty Mummy and English Mum have written excellently on the whole issue, so I won't rehash it all, except to say I think it's woman's old enemy, guilt, at work again. Ever since we were fitted up by Adam and his naughty old snake back in the garden of Eden, we women have been taking the blame for everything.
I've noticed that Child One, at 13, has suddenly got guilt - she frequently says, 'you're trying to make me feel guilty/I feel so guilty' when I ask her to do simple things like clean up her room. This wouldn't have happened a year ago and Child Two, two years younger, is still immune.
Once girls and women start feeling guilty and responsible, they are very easy to manipulate. They will do almost anything if you tell them they 'ought' to - that it's their responsibility or duty. I know this, because Child One will now tidy up if I approach her this way - I did it once, but ironically I then felt so guilty that I won't do it again.
Women are programmed to try to make everything work, to help their employers, to do their best for their children. When they feel defensive and guilty about the sacrifices they are making, though, they will attack - not employers or children but, most likely, other women. This is my theory about the Alphamummy piece and I'm sticking to it. The author feels guilty because she is not at home for her children, so she has a go at stay-at-home mothers instead. Does it make her feel better? Probably it just gives her something new to feel guilty about!
I've tried various options myself and find it's impossible to get the balance - either I work and see that my children feel, and are, neglected, or I stay at home (economic circumstances permitting) and feel resentful that I am denied an outlet in the wider world. There is absolutely no easy way, and too much choice just seems to equal more guilt.
Two things sum it up for me - the first comment left on the Alphamummy article, which reads something like, 'if you leave work, your colleagues won't miss you - but your children do.' The second was a line from Decca Aitkenhead, in her recent profile of Clive James in the Guardian, saying that on their deathbeds, not many men wish they had spent more time at the office.
A lot of women have no choice, however, and have to work, and work very hard, to support their families. We shouldn't attack them - and they shouldn't attack us. Ladies, let's call a truce!
* On another note, I feel very guilty - of course - that I didn't make it clear that the printer I was raving about last time was actually loaned to me by HP, so that I could review it. I think it costs something like £2,000 so there is no way I could ever actually own one myself unless (please, pretty, pretty please) the HP people take pity on me and let me keep it. It is lovely, though.
* And read about my staycation in Margate and Ramsgate on http://www.havealovelytime.com/2009/06/a-staycation-in-ramsgate-by-alice-castle.html. The site is a wonderful resource if you're thinking about summer holidays, and is run by the fabulous Linda of http://www.gotyourhandsful.com/
I've noticed that Child One, at 13, has suddenly got guilt - she frequently says, 'you're trying to make me feel guilty/I feel so guilty' when I ask her to do simple things like clean up her room. This wouldn't have happened a year ago and Child Two, two years younger, is still immune.
Once girls and women start feeling guilty and responsible, they are very easy to manipulate. They will do almost anything if you tell them they 'ought' to - that it's their responsibility or duty. I know this, because Child One will now tidy up if I approach her this way - I did it once, but ironically I then felt so guilty that I won't do it again.
Women are programmed to try to make everything work, to help their employers, to do their best for their children. When they feel defensive and guilty about the sacrifices they are making, though, they will attack - not employers or children but, most likely, other women. This is my theory about the Alphamummy piece and I'm sticking to it. The author feels guilty because she is not at home for her children, so she has a go at stay-at-home mothers instead. Does it make her feel better? Probably it just gives her something new to feel guilty about!
I've tried various options myself and find it's impossible to get the balance - either I work and see that my children feel, and are, neglected, or I stay at home (economic circumstances permitting) and feel resentful that I am denied an outlet in the wider world. There is absolutely no easy way, and too much choice just seems to equal more guilt.
Two things sum it up for me - the first comment left on the Alphamummy article, which reads something like, 'if you leave work, your colleagues won't miss you - but your children do.' The second was a line from Decca Aitkenhead, in her recent profile of Clive James in the Guardian, saying that on their deathbeds, not many men wish they had spent more time at the office.
A lot of women have no choice, however, and have to work, and work very hard, to support their families. We shouldn't attack them - and they shouldn't attack us. Ladies, let's call a truce!
* On another note, I feel very guilty - of course - that I didn't make it clear that the printer I was raving about last time was actually loaned to me by HP, so that I could review it. I think it costs something like £2,000 so there is no way I could ever actually own one myself unless (please, pretty, pretty please) the HP people take pity on me and let me keep it. It is lovely, though.
* And read about my staycation in Margate and Ramsgate on http://www.havealovelytime.com/2009/06/a-staycation-in-ramsgate-by-alice-castle.html. The site is a wonderful resource if you're thinking about summer holidays, and is run by the fabulous Linda of http://www.gotyourhandsful.com/
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