Hope Springs
Tiny little rays of sunshine are beginning to break through the never-ending clouds, and it feels like there is hope on the horizon. I have been blessed by my very own little ray of sunshine, in the shape of my two year old great nephew, now back in the house every Thursday. My youngest daughter is back to school, and I now get the place to myself most days. It is a little soon for me to say it's too quiet, and probably always will be, but there is certainly more peace than there has been for a while. My son H has finally had his talents recognised, and started working as a Junior Executive in Digital Marketing on Monday. I am grateful to have had an unexpected year with him home. He came back from his student digs at the beginning of the pandemic, on 17th March, and received the good news and job offer on the same day, exactly one year later.
I am happy sad; delighted for him that he has a new job, and will be able to move in with his girlfriend very soon. But very sad for me and the dogs, as he is the only member of the household to ever walk any of us.
When we attempted to clear out his room, in readiness for its return to the original purpose, as Mr C's 'Toffice", I discovered what had happened to all the teaspoons, as well as Marigold's favourite bamboo cereal bowls, and the sad fate of one of my favourite tea plates, which had been involved in a collision with the wheels of an office chair. I found more coat hangers than there are clothes in the whole house, many of them with the metal hook bit snapped off, and quite a few empty Pringles tubes. The room has now been restored to its former glory, but on reflection, I preferred it when it was occupied. I cannot shake the ever-present feeling that someone is missing, no matter what I am doing. When he moved in, it was for only going to be for a couple of months, until he finished uni and found a job. Then it was until Christmas, and now it has been a whole year. I think this has been the way for so many people; plans put on hold, futures suspended. I wrote him a card, which said 'It will be shit here without you'. He smiled and I could tell he was thinking about how much he is going to miss the dogs. I am hoping that the pups, along with the lure of Sunday lunch will be enough to keep him coming back.
I made him a little cookery book for his new home, copying out family recipes (which are all written in my very scruffy Jamie Oliver cookery book. to which Marigold has laid claim after I die.) It includes all of his favourite recipes, so that he can cook them once he is installed in his new home. There are a few seasonal recipes- halloween biscuits, chocolate orange hot cross bun pudding, panforte, the giant double cookie cake everyone insists on for their birthdays, as well as my favourite coffee and walnut cake and the chilli jam I make at Christmas, (which always reminds me of my dear old friend Mary Poppins, who presents me with an empty jar just before Christmas every year, in the hope that it will be filled, and provide her with an excuse to eat crackers and cheese, washed down with lots of cider.) I have also included the best yorkie pud and roasties recipes in H's cookbook, but perhaps I should delete them in case it gives him less incentive to visit.
Celebrity News
Mr C and I were very excited to receive tickets to be in the online audience for QI last week. It wasn't quite as thrilling as we expected, in fact we were surprisingly disappointed by the whole experience. The celebrities were all very flat. Sandi Toksvig just seemed to want to get it over and done with, reading determinedly through a mountain of facts, as if she realised that they were all a little dull, but was contractually obliged to deliver them anyway. Jo Brand was funny but appeared to be very cross, as if she really didn't want to be there either. Alan Davies was older and duller than I imagined. Lee Mack was funny (which also came as a surprise to me), but they all presented as a bit snappy and neither warm nor dynamic. The spotlight shone firmly on a comedian called Maisie, who was not pushy exactly, but had a lot to say, none of it funny. On a good day, the others would have wiped the floor with her, but they appeared happy for her to take centre stage, as if hoping that then it would all be over much more quickly, and they could return home. I think everyone is just finding it hard to keep going. We are suffering from Covid fatigue, but this is the first time I have witnessed it over the airwaves, where typically everyone is overly upbeat and jolly, as if there is nothing to fear. With clever editing, the malaise we witnessed will no doubt disappear from view before the show is broadcast. I must admit to having been a little off kilter myself, probably due to being told off for talking during the filming, which Mr C absolutely loved as had I spent most of the afternoon tapping his knee, with my finger to my lip shushing him.
Garden Beautification News
As some of the Lockdown restrictions are gently eased, I have been trying to decide on some sort of outdoor erection (my absolute favourite kind!) so that we can have guests in our garden, whatever the weather. I have been considering whether to go for something permanent, or more of a gazebo arrangement. I have looked at pull out awnings, as well as wooden uprights with vines, but because our garden is rubbish, North facing with very little sunshine, I would rather that the little bit we do get in the mornings is not shaded by a permanent erection (nobody wants a permanent erection, no matter what they might say). I suggested to Mr C that it might be an idea to buy ahead of the rush, and after weeks of sending him links to suitable looking gazebos, and signposting him to Pinterest boards with pictures of every conceivable option, all of which he has completely ignored; he has disregarded every one of my carefully presented suggestions, and gone straight to Ebay and bought the first one he saw, which had a photo of 8 men hanging from the roofing structure, demonstrating its strength and resilience. Its name, equally appealing, is something manly like the Rhino Gazebo.
'This is the one,' he asserted - even though it costs five times what we had planned to spend, is only available in purple, and does not come with sides as standard.
'Yes dear, it sounds perfect.' (He had already bought it, no point in reasoning.)
When it arrived, it was actually white (which I like about as much as purple). Mr C has managed to buy a single side from another seller, which he hopes will be the right size, and should protect us from the elements. We did a trial run, and it went up OK, although the gazebo itself fitted quite snugly on the exactly three metre wide sunken patio. Almost as snugly as the canvas cover on the frame. The air was blue, but as long as it keeps the rain off, and provides enough shelter to enable us to have visitors into the garden, most importantly, baby Otto, (the newest member of the clan), then it will do.
Recommendations:
I have finished reading 'Troubled Blood' by Robert Galbraith, which I really enjoyed. Like all of JK Rowling's Cormoran Strike books, it is very dark at the end, which led me towards something a little lighter for dessert. Miss Benson's Beetle by Rachel Joyce is totally delightful and charming, and reminded me a little of 'Three things about Elsie' by Joanna Canon, and comes highly recommended.
I am loving the police dramas on TV -Unforgotten and Line of Duty (which I accidentally on purpose keep calling Call of Duty because it drives the kids up the pole ) I do find that they all merge into one and I require a little prompt if anyone wants to discuss the storylines. I have just started watching 'The Flight Attendant' on Sky Atlantic; 3 episodes in and I like it a lot. I still haven't finished watching Bridgerton, so I must go back to that. And I never even started the Crown, although I am very interested in it. I am what is commonly known as behind the curve.
I am getting into the Circle, I like the catfish, especially Syed and Nanna Dot, and we have taken to copying the way the contestants talk in our daily conversation, hands to god emoji, hashtag bitches win. I am also overjoyed to see the new series of TaskMaster on Channel 4, and I love Mike Wozniak, but am taking longer to warm to the other contestants. I googled him to see what else he has been in, as I don't think I have come across him before, and I found this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1P-UxnjWJQo which made me laugh a lot, and made me want to watch Man Down.
April Fool News
Yesterday was April 1st, a day which usually passes me by, due to having been scarred at a early age by an unsuccessful first foray into the world of jokes and trickery. At the age of 10, I went on the school canal trip (a disaster for so many reasons, which included not being able to go for a poo for 5 days because the girls' toilet (or bucket) was under a canvas at the front of the canal boat, which was also the favourite haunt of the boys.) I was packed off with a ten pound note in my purse, and was very excited at the prospect of being able to choose how it was spent. Not for me, the ice creams or bottles of Cresta Pop (it's frothy man.) Nope, I spent mine in the first shop we came to on our first stop of the trip; a joke shop under a railway bridge in Royal Leamington Spa. I bought, amongst other things, fake dog poo, trick chewing gum and a tub of slime with worms in it. I was so delighted with my purchases that I insisted on showing them to everyone, which lessened the impact when a dog poo was discovered on someone's bed or on the table at breakfast time, and nobody wanted chewing gum from me either. I watched longingly as the others ate their ice creams and drank their bottles of fizzy pop throughout the rest of the trip, and in desperation, I eventually tried to sell some of my jokey purchases, so I might be able to buy an ice cream too, but of course, nobody wanted to buy tricks that everyone already knew about, no matter how low the asking price.
April Fools' Day is largely ignored in our house. When Marigold got up yesterday morning, she went and found Polly, the black cockapoo, and carried her into the kitchen, saying
'Look at your beautiful girl, look, look, mum look'.
'MMMM,' I said, reluctant as always to join in with the adoration routine, where I am required to stop whatever I am doing and listen to her saying the same things over and over.
'I wonder how the dogs will cope when the kitten arrives.' I mused, the idea just popping into my head, having just read a jokey story about pet emus.
'Wait (always wait), we are getting a cat!'
'Do you know how long I waited before I realised that there were dogs I wouldn't be allergic to? And it's taken me this long again to realise that if they can do it with dogs, then why not cats.'
'Wait...'
'Yes, they have somehow managed to produce a cat with poodle hair, non allergenic. We have to wait for a couple of weeks until it's ready.'
'Wait. How?'
'Mr C bought it from Ebay last night after you'd gone to bed.'
'I'm calling him,' she shouted over her shoulder as she marched upstairs, furious that she would once more be bumped down the line to the throne, just like poor old Prince Michael of Kent.
Speed texting, and amazingly speed reading of texts resulted in Mr C giving the correct responses to the when and how and what questions she fired at him. He added a few embellishments of his own - the kitten was part koala and it would smell of eucalyptus; sometimes he just goes too far!! But she was so whipped up by the idea of a cat coming to live with us, that she didn't notice. I ran up the stairs to her, thinking she was going to realise before I got the chance to say it.
'We are going to call it April', I said 'because that is when she is going to arrive. Isn't that cool, a cat called April!'
Over her protestations, I asked her to check the calendar on her phone, so we could remember the date when we first found out we were getting a kitten.
'It's April the first, but we CANT get a cat.' she wailed.
'Sorry' I said loudly. 'What date is it, I didn't hear.'
'April the first.,' she snapped again, still not registering, until I said,
'what a special day' and then
'April fool'. Such a triumph!
Easter News
As a child, Easter was my least favourite festival - it always promised so much, and delivered so little. The pretty boxes full of brightly coloured shiny eggs looked so magical, but were all packaging with barely an ounce or two of chocolate inside. The pinnacle of the celebrations was a long drawn out Sunday dinner, a plate filled with greasy meat and dark green vegetables, and I knew I wouldn't be allowed to leave the table until I had eaten them all. For me, it was really quite a rubbish time, particularly as I was never the biggest fan of chocolate.
Those miserable memories have now more or less disappeared. In this respect, time is my kind friend, as it smooths over the sadness and pushes happy events to the fore. My childhood home, the scene of so many Easter disappointments, now springs to mind as a place where there were always flowers on a table filled with delicious home cooked grub. I hope that my kids when they look back on this time will also remember the best bits, when we were altogether; long dog walks through the fields on hot Summer days, the dancing and the cocktail parties rather than the pitched battles and rubbish internet connection.
I now feel as if Easter is a good time, the trees are full of blossom, the greenhouse is full of germinating seeds, everything is growing.
Let's just hope that Mr C's hair will also grow, and fast, after today's much needed but now lamented trip to Joanna's Garden Barbers Shop. Good job he didn't choose to go yesterday, or he might have thought I had done it on purpose, which I honestly didn't. This was the best I could do.
I wish you all a very
and hope the sun shines on you and yours. And that you get a ton of chocolate, if chocolate is what you like best.
