If you want to create a wide smile on your husband’s/dad’s/brother’s face this Christmas, I can only recommend giving them tickets for a car related event. The smell of petrol and the sound of roaring engines will no doubt make their day, but leave you with either a headache or another day spent apart.
If you want to do yourself a favour, get them tickets for Goodwood Revival. Not only is the sheer number of classic cars that populate parking lots, racetracks and motor shows breathtaking; also the fashion interested female visitor’s eyes are likely to be pleased. The best bit about it: you get to play dressing up yourself.
The main advantage of a lacking relationship with your parents is the freedom that comes with it. When you are receiving nothing, nothing can be taken from you. And as soon as you break the vicious circle of copying the patterns that formed the dysfunctional relationship you used to have with your genitors (in my case that meant reaching for the non-available), you have all the freedom in the world to build your own family, patch it together with friends, siblings, grandparents and finally the love of your life and your own offspring.
SMACK. I remember the tingling sensation on my cheek and how astonished I was about the loudness a flat hand landing on my face could cause. Smacking wasn’t one of my mother’s preferred educational measures, but in this particular case she made an exception and put in all her fears and anger and frustration.
Having renovated a house recently, I can honestly say that watching paint dry is more exciting than attempting to diet. The last diet (remember Fat Smash: peas and lentils and lentils and peas) was ditched after four days. Four days! Instead we went to New York and tucked into pancakes (sky-high pancake piles soaked in maple syrup, accompanied by fried eggs and bacon), pizza and gigantic chocolate chip cookies. Only to be followed by the New England diet, i.e. lobsters and melted butter, corn on the cob and pumpkin pie. I know this is going to surprise you, but I STILL haven’t lost those last three pounds.
My feet are once again walking on British soil. I am still feeling a bit seasick from the jet leg, and little L not wanting to settle back in doesn’t help. On top of it, I brought home a nasty could, thanks to the Americans’ OTT love for air conditioning. Yes, it’s hot out there, but do you have to cool down every room to minus 10 degrees Celsius?
Hotsling baby carrier to give away. Attention: only for the seasoned user
When I was pregnant with little L, I envisioned myself as one of those boho style mummies: long hair floating in the wind, wrapped in a poncho, baby L snugly propped into her baby pouch carrier.
New York, New York. I completely forgot how hot New York can be in August.
Last Sunday was seeing little L and me attending the Christening of L’s babyfriend T. On our way to the reception, one of the guests asked me, if I was going to have little L baptised. Answering the question herself, she said ‘Well, I guess it’s better to have them baptised at an early age.’ Is it? I am not quite so sure.
To encourage further shrinkage, I have recently replaced my beloved Pain au Chocolat with muesli for breakfast. So when I absent-mindedly read the text on the muesli box, the scales fell from my eyes. (!) My diet was missing an essential ingredient. And these folks even have the nerves to boast about not having it in their product. At all.