Monday, May 30, 2011

The proof of the pudding


My parents are coming to lunch. Of course I have completely overdone it and it looks as though a tribe of starving people are coming to lunch.  I have so massively overcatered and now I must redecorate the house.  Well, I might cast around a hoover and decontaminate the downstairs loo. I cleaned the silver last week.

I made an amazing pudding during which every conceivable thing went wrong.  It is now in the fridge being prayed for.  It is a strawberry charlotte and I took the recipe off someone's blog who had had an equally awful time making it - she was actually marginally worse than me.  I only wasted half a pint of cream, she got through a whole heap of stuff and I truly admire her tenacity .  I have picked almost every strawberry in the garden but I still need loads more for the top as this thing is seriously massive.  I wonder if some more could grow by lunch?  Maybe I will sneak out to a shop and waste more money on this stupid pudding.  Mr Smith already had to do an extra cream run as I had run out and I tried to use some frozen cream but I was a bit impatient and microwaved it whereupon it curdled into scrambled egg.  I then dropped the new cream all over side and onto the floor catching most of it inside my oven gloves.  I emptied them out and scooped up what I could off the floor and side and whipped it up - nobody will know. I also had some terrible sponge finger moments and a mousse deficit.  I bet everyone is on a diet - like me - and will pass on pudding.

What am I going to do with the massive amount of leftovers?  I have a brilliant idea.  I will serve only the outside saving the whole central section for another occasion.  No, it will collapse and, as it's really a big strawberry mousse cake you need to have a whole slice.  I would have made it in a smaller tin but the raised game pie is in that and, actually, that's looking lunatically huge too.

Time to make a salad out of what I can find under the frames in my garden (ah slugs) and 10 tons of everything else.  I do seem to be having a quantity issue here.  It's as though I am a Lilliputian chef expecting Gulliver and his wife for lunch.  And I can't stop.

Oooooh so exciting next door has just caught fire and a fire engine full of delicious firemen has just turned up - must dash.  They might be hungry.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Two Hundred Quid

Yesterday whilst I was pottering in my potager, as one does, the Student returned from his University and sneaked up on me giving me quite a turn.  "What's for lunch?"  and it's nice to see you too.

"Got any money?"  Yes, thank you student son, dear.  Why were you going to give me some?
"I've got a project and I need money."  So have I, it's called my life.

After several Have you gots?  As in  "Have you got a lens carrier?" - No because you already took it. "A key chain, a poster tube, a tripod and a generator?",  I gave him all my money.  Why? To make him go away.  I went back to pottering.  Later there was a desperate telephone call "Mum, you know that money you gave me?"  Intimately, I had become fond of it and was going to spend it something special.  "Well, I've lost it.  I must have left it on the train."

It's in your pocket.  "No it isn't I looked, honestly."  It's in the left pocket of your hoodie. (Student uniform).
No, it isn't cos I had it on the journey,  I took it out of my backback and counted it then I must have left it on the train."  Look in your pocket you stupid little oik.  "Oh, yeah, how did it get here?  Mum, you're brilliant."  I know, I'm your mother.  Now put that money in a safe place.  Where is it now?  "Oh I dunno, I've put it down somewhere in my room and I can't find it."  It's on your bed.  "Oh yeah, how did you know that?" It's probably the only bit of your room not covered in dirty plates.  Now put it in your bedside drawer ... NOW.... and leave me alone.

I love him really, or I wouldn't have given him the money and it's quite nice that he thinks I'm psychic.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Maternal instinct

Well done Mr Smith, the new internet is absolutely superb and I was able to watch a rerun of Britain's Got No Talent on my laptop all the way through dinner.  Mr Smith looked vexed so I turned it off - three Xs for me.

The new diet is working a treat and I am now a mere sylph, a shadow of my former self.  Can I have a Cadbury's cream egg and a glass of wine now?

Rain - oh lovely delicious yummy rain.  I love you.  By the way, my new mac isn't very waterproof as the dog and I discovered during walkies but I pretended not to notice despite being soaked to the skin.  I had to have a nice warm bath and put on my big fluffy bathrobe when I got home.  So did the dog.

I got trapped by my horrible mother on the telephone who wants to come to lunch on Monday.  She detected my slight reticence though I was careful not to sigh or groan or wail loudly whilst curling into a foetal position on the floor, hugging myself  until Mr Smith assured me it would be fine.  But it won't - it never is.  He promises to be here.  "I'll bring a picnic" she says.  And what, eat it at the end of the garden whilst we entertain my father?  Oh please.  Well, that's my bank holiday ruined.  Maybe her broomstick will break down or something. Now who's the nasty one?  Must be hereditary.

 

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Making the diet informations

I woke at a very early hour as I was all excited - our new faster, better internet is coming today.  I will be whizzing blogs off to you in a jiffy.  I also wanted to know if I had lost weight on my new diet as it promises les miracles;  it's french.  The Dukan Diet. I am wading through bad translations trying to "excess my personal informations" and get thinner.  So as the sun came up I popped myself on the scales - I can't remember how I've done as I was horrified to see my neighbour pegging out the washing at 5.45am - that is KEEN.  I hope birds poo on it.  I tend to wait til Mr Smith is safely at work then chuck it all in the tumble drier.  He always knows.  He must have detectors on his antennae that tell him I've been tumbling again.  It's probably the guilty look and miraculous empty washing line that give me away.

I'm reading a brilliant book about a Nigerian refugee in Britain.  So far she has been in a detention centre in Chelmsford for two years but I am only at the start so we'll see what happens.

Mr Smith and I are enjoying a heavenly week with no boys.  Oh it's lovely.  The Apprentice is in France and his brother, the Student, is at his University.  I fear this is only temporary and makes us what I believe are called "empty nesters".  We are so happy we can row and throw things at each other in peace and quiet.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Motivated Mrs Smith

It's another lovely day ... oh how I wish it would rain on my garden.  I am off for a swim, probably outside, then a hop, skip and a jump to the supermarket.  (Not IN the supermarket or that would make me look mad and all the other shoppers would stare at me.)  I am off to stock up on frightfully healthy foods for my new diet, or rather "regime" as it's French.  It will probably be the usual scenario of Mr Smith becoming all thin and healthy whilst I sit around thinking about Cadbury's cream oeufs.

I have been on a quest for the perfect chocolate cupcake recipe.  Every now again I try one or another but they either tend to be too heavy and don't rise properly or are a bit dry.  Yesterday I made chocolate muffins - fabulous but very hefty indeed and a bit too bitter though the ones with strawberries in them were the biz.  But they weren't what I was aiming for.  Mr Smith came home with "What's for dinner other than stupid cupcakes."  That secured arsenic in his stir fry.

Time for synchronised swimming for fat people.  (Aqua aerobics). Yes it is hilarious unless you are trying to do it; please laugh elsewhere or I will have to drown you and I am feeling particularly motivated today, so be warned.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Speedy dieting

I had a masterplan all worked out for the time the Apprentice was away in France.  I thought I would remake and finish my pebble mosaic instead of which I have recovered from a hangover and started a new diet.  Well, actually I haven't started a new diet yet but I am getting a bit porky so it's time to replace biscuits with swimming - you know the sort of thing.

Mr Smith is getting us a faster internet connection.   I can't think why as he never uses the internet; he doesn't know how; (maybe he's learnt and is taking up internet dating - Oh no.)   However, I welcome faster internet as one currently has to crank the handle to make it work in this house.  I am so fed up with it just going at the speed of a paraplegic snail with flu.  No more buffetting on You Tube?  Bet there is.  Anyway, I'll be far too busy in the gym to even think about using the computer.... except looking up a new diet.

My friend Pru has children and husband with ADHD - Attention deficiency and behavioural problems despite them being very bright.  (Think mad professors with unmatching socks.)  They take pills to make them better.  To be honest after having her to stay I felt as if I had every symptom with acute fatigue to boot. My boys both have the attention span of goldfish, especially the Student, but I am not terribly keen on labelling.  I probably always knew the Student was dyslexic but didn't want him to use the label like a prop to ballast his laziness.  Once he was diagnosed that immediately gave him an excuse to never get any assignment in on time or even strive to.  Mr Smith refers to his dissertation as The Hesitation.  I just think he should try a bit harder especially now that the University have given him a state-of-the-art computer.... for free.  The way I see it is his diagnosed dyslexia has given him gifts and an excuse to be even lazier.  Maybe I'm wrong.  Maybe he does need every aid, along with a kick up the backside from his fearsome mother.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

The worst boss you ever had

Once in a while I am honoured to be able to share the planet with certain fellow human beings and this weekend I met up with two of them.  Not necessarily in the right order they are Richard Biggins, an architect now at Fred Gibberd and Antonia Rolls. You all know about Rolls (if you don't, read past blogs), but Biggins is a chap I don't really know that well but totally adore.  Let me explain.

My firend Pru is staying.  Pru is a blast from the past.  We both used to work in the God's worst architectural firm in the World for the most terrifying woman architect who we not only hated but who absolutely terrified us and in response we carried on like badly behaved school children the moment she went out.  She was the scariest witch in the whole West End.  She was mean and nasty and a crashing snob and she had a very deep voice and looked like a man in drag.  She could chill your bones from a mile away and make you want to shrink to a teeny weeny little ball of insignifigance.  We really detested her. We would do THE most dreadful things you could imagine egged on by each other to be slightly more daringly awful than the day before.  We thought we had probably pushed it to the limits until Biggins arrived moving it all up several notches, and I am not just talking Corian samples in the briefcase or jamming the lift with the boss in it so we could finish our backgammon game and crossword before she came in.  Oh we were bad... truly.

Unfortunately it was the underdog who often fell victim of our pranks.  If it was nowadays the poor side kick/office manager could happily do us for bullying in the workplace but we were happily preserved from any form of PCness in the ignorant seventies.  Gosh, the poor man must have had a nervous breakdown or at least dreaded work every day.  We put elastic bands in his sandwiches, perforations in his umbrella and unscrewed the handle on his briefcase (full of marble slabs) so it fell apart at the station ... if he ever got there due to lift failure ... again.  He never once grassed  us up to our vile female boss and I still wonder why not.  He probably hated her a bit more than he hated us. He was probably on our team but we would just come up with madder more horrible mean tricks every day.  And what is so awful we not only thought they were funny but we still do.

Oh my, those were the days.  But one thing we will carry to our graves was our serious fear of our terrifying monster boss who must be long since pushing up stinging nettles or aged 113 in an old people's home giving some poor carer hell..  When we felt her coming we would freeze on the spot.  The place would suddenly transform from Speakeasy back into office. Today we had a reunion.  But as we met outside the office building on Beak Street we all felt a slight shudder down our spines ... it was her!  We had to go to a pub and get happily pissed and laugh til our sides hurt all afternoon.

Pru and I are both besotted by Biggins.  His sexuality is definitely a bit pink but whoa what a really super bloke.  We both love you.  And Rolls, we love you too.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Mrs Smith on the rocks

I went to the seaside to pick up some more pebbles for a better pebble mosaic.  My spade & fork effort was so poor I thought it would be better off dead so I redistributed it to the wheelbarrow and other receptacles.  I decided to have a more scientific approach to this pebble collecting so I took a scale thingy and measured each pebble on the beach.  After about ten pebbles both the Apprentice and I gave up and joined Banjo Tony and his sidekick, Young Rob, in the pub.  We then went to the garden centre and were so horrified at the price of bags of pebbles we went back to the beach and stole a few more.

Mr Smith rang "Baddies have broken into our garden and completely messed up your pebble mosaic."  Oh, that's a shame.  I hardly dared confess it was me considering how long it took me to make the stupid thing.

I selfishly made Tony drive the Apprentice to Portsmouth to catch his ferry.  I prepared coq au vin in the slow cooker followed by a strawberry cheesecake.  I was suddenly someone else's wife and mother ... OH NO.  We had been out for a curry the night before along with a few friends and he had very kindly paid.  Afterwards, the weirdest thing happened:  A man in the pub wanted to buy everyone a drink.  The pub was empty except us. He had wodges of cash and wanted to share his good fortune with us by buying us all drinks.  But we didn't want any drinks.  We had been drinking all afternoon and all evening and wanted to go home.  He wouldn't tell us how he came by the money; of course we are all bursting to know.  Perhaps he stole it?  I'll find out next week and let you know.

At the Shore Inn I have a drink that is my very own and has my name.  It's catching on as people say "Oh, I want one of those."  Copy cats. It's a pink wine spritzer with lots of ice in a lovely big glass and it looks so pretty.  I have a bit of a hangover as too many of these delicious elixirs don't entirely agree with me.  I now need to have a little nap so I am fresh as a daisy when Mr Smith returns from golf.  He notes that I find all that sea air rather tiring.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Have I got a bruise for you

One reason for Monday's complete inertia was not entire idleness; it was more forced rest as I am injured and have a hurt bit of leg.  A very heavy chopping board fell over onto the back of my calf last week and it was very painful.  I did much wailing of bad words and hopping and ow-ow-owing.  The Apprentice was kind.  Mr Smith was his usual sympathetic self  "They shoot horses".  The pain didn't really go away and it isn't until now that the bruising has appeared it feels at all better.  It still hurts.  Mr Smith's concern stretched to  "How  careless",  When I was moving that painted dresser I moved the board temporarily against a chair and it toppled over onto the back of my leg.  Silly me.  I want to show you my bruise, sorry if some of you are of sensitive natures; I can't find an open-only if-you're-brave option ... so here it is:-

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Yes, I know my calves are fat, they grew into cows many years ago and it was very tempting to stretch the picture so you would think I have elegant trim little ankles - dream on.  In this instance I was probably saved by my fatness because if I had skinny little matchstick legs like everyone else I'm sure I would have broken a bone.

It's not a very good picture.  You try taking a photo of the back of your leg; unless you're Darcy Bussell it's mighty tricky.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Having your cake and eating it

Nothing happened yesterday ... at all .... all day.  It was bliss.  It was one of those once in a very long while days.  I was almost bored but not quite as I am never bored.  I just relished every moment of nothingness until I became quite catatonic.  I probably should have done the ironing but instead I watched a heavenly film "An Education", which I recommend, and finished my book about anorexia that I wish had been fatter (ha ha) but I was disappointed when I got to the end.  I wanted to know more.  I think I wanted her to die, which wasn't very nice of me, or get really really fat or something.  Books that are so inconclusive make me a bit cheesed off.... make up an ending, you stupid woman.

Off to Asda for cake ingredients then a morning of baking followed by some swimming and maybe a long dog walk depending on how energetic I and the dog are feeling.  I absolutely love making cakes - it's right up there with .... eating them.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Wiggly forks and spades

What is it?  Well, its supposed to be a pebble mosaic of garden tools but it went a bit wrong.  When it was dry it was ok but when I added water to set the cement the stones all changed colour and the spade and trowel handle disappeared.  Oh well, it's only the bit where we park the wheelbarrow.  I had such great ambitions for this project but I rather rushed at it . I found that you need to grade the pebbles first and you also need to do your prep work a bit better.

What ridiculously overambitious project shall I attempt today?  Maybe I will try anorexia as I am reading a brilliant book "brave girl eating" by Harriet Brown that I truly recommend.  My God it's terrifying; her daughter was so normal before she stopped eating.  I feel so lucky I only got dealt two dyslexic boys - something that seems to be even harder to cope with now they're older than when they were at school where we got quite used to failing spelling tests.  The Student struggles so hard at university to complete any written assignment and it's not all complete idleness.... He simply can't do it.

I did boring things yesterday like cleaning the silver and sulking about my pebbles not being very good whilst Mr Smith spent the whole day playing stupid golf.  Oh, by the way, the cupcakes were a great success.  I will make some more as I think they're one of those things you need to have in the freezer for those ghastly "Mother have you got ....?." moments.  I am quite good at that - ever resourceful. Somewhere I still have tiny outfits  for small shepherds and a sheep, I think.  Supermum, that's me.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Coming up Roses

On my return from the cake decorating supplies shop the Apprentice greeted me with "Mum, can you make a dozen cupcakes really quickly for Georgie's birthday tonight?" Oh I suppose so. I like Georgie. She was a bit enfant terrible at school but, now she is working, is far more sensible than any of his other old school friends. So I spent the next two hours covering my kitchen in pink icing and sparkle (yes, my cakes sparkle) and dashed off 12 pretty little pink cakes with roses on top. "Oh, I can't take the cakes because we are going to a club." I'll club you ... to death. In the end I dropped him off in Putney with the cakes in the rain and I haven't seen him since. Maybe he got duffed over by hungry muggers; maybe other clubbers ate the cakes. Anyway, I hope Georgie liked them and actually managed to save one for herself.


I always know when Mr Smith is up to something as he volunteers to go to the tip with all our rubbish. He is zealous in his purging of all things superfluous and you have to screw things down to stop him throwing them away. I sent him off with a few bags (big ones) full of weeds and choppings. He then volunteered to take me pebble shopping as I had run out of stones for my pebble mosaic and the sea is a bit far away. I then discovered he had planned a whole three weekends of non-stop golf. Oh well, I'll just have to amuse myself with pebble mosaicing the entire garden.

Well done Azerbaijan, bad luck Stoke. I couldn't actually pinpoint either of you on the map.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Boosting Rolls

On my last foray to Costco I bought the Student a box of 48 Cadbury's Boosts which I delivered to him today; well, what's left of them. He says they work well as currency and he's a bit behind on an essay. I am quite pleased to see them go as it was getting hard to ration oneself to a mere one Boost and they were becoming my "five a day".

I went to the cake decorating supply shop in Farnham and spent a rather silly amount of money on devices and colours and bits for cup cake making. This is with some purpose as Arty Antonia is having a fund raiser - for herself - next weekend and I promised to donate a cake or two (24 actually). It's not really for herself; it's for her brilliant art that portrays her incredible first hand insight into death. No she's not dead. I'm not explaining this very well but the fundraiser is so that you too will be able to see her work in a venue somewhere near you in the future or, failing that, a film about it. Anyway, look on her website: Antonia Rolls. Just Google her, you can't miss her, and her art is fabulous and she is also jolly nice and she is probably reading this so please just go to www.antoniarolls.co.uk. Consider yourself plugged, Rolls, to both my readers, one of which is you!

Here is a picture of me by Antonia - no I'm not dead either.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Hairy bits

Phew, we are back on line. The bloggy thing went all wrong and I couldn't post a blog. I discovered just how addicted to blogging I am. Hello, my name is Mrs Smith and I am a blog addict. So now you know.

Tarantara the dresser is finished. It sports blemishes, snags, snots, drags, brush hairs, dog hairs, chips, drips and runs; I am not a great decorator. You've missed a bit says Mr Smith. The main bit I've missed is the top as I can't find the tin of polish I have had lurking about waiting for just such a project. Where have I put it? Not in the dresser. I have searched high and low. My great search has turned up all sorts of other things I've been missing for ages. Our house is now quite tidy - it won't last. Our dresser is immaculate. I won't let Mr Smith put anything on it. He said if he couldn't put corkscrews on it he was leaving home. I held open the door and waved him off.

Oh goody, it's the Eurovision Song Contest tomorrow night. Mr Smith really will leave home. Jedward, will move in. Oh, they already have in the form of the Apprentice and Student.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Crumbling marriage

Didn't make it to Zumba as I had to prepare Vegetarian Tuesday's offering. A vegetable risottoish thing emerged followed by rhubarb crumble. Mr Smith had a rhubarb tantrum when he got home as I hadn't prepared his rhubarb, as instructed earlier in the day. He threw it in the bin. I took it out again and made him cut it up. "How?" Well, you take a knife and chop it. "The knife doesn't work." I bet it does if I plunge it into your thigh, thinks I. Oh marital bliss. But it was a jolly good crumble served with lashings of cream and ice cream and we all ate too much as we congratulated each other on our brilliant culinary efforts "Well chopped", "Well crumbled". Mr & Mrs Smith make a great team.

I had a totally exhausting brainwave in the afternoon; moving the vegetable garden around. I am not sure my lettuces will ever forgive me - they look rather pissed off. Anyway, I got the Apprentice to help me and we heaved earth and laid (home made) paving and it now looks rather splendid. There is the odd design fault but we are getting there. Lettuces, please perk up a bit.

The Lovely Claudia is coming to play today so I will not be working quite so hard. Time for a bit of R&R. I must dash and finish painting that sodding dresser. Mr Smith liked it better before. I think I might have done too.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

A brilliant idea or a bonkers one?


Got the first coat of paint on the dresser. "Oh yuk what a horrible colour" declare Mr Smith and the Apprentice. But they chose it. Oh no, I'm not changing it now. Oh maybe I will. I don't know. I am just sick of the whole thing and just want to get it finished. It is green but what you see here is the undercoat - altogether a much nicer colour.

Had an amazing dream about garden furniture or rather a whatnot in the garden. Firstly, I had to remove my school uniform from the drawers then I had to fill it with earth and flowers and herbs then I was in so much trouble from matron for losing my uniform and abusing school property I was sent to the headmistress. I had to persuade them it was going to be the next BIG thing. But what a fantastic use of hideous old bits of chunky brown furniture that nobody wants. Paint them in Weathershield, plonk some tiles along the flat bits and cover in pots and planters. You could also remove bits, put holes in it and have attachments. Will attach design later. Watch this space. Mr Smith despairs.

I excelled in the inedible meals department last night. I cooked, or started to cook, some duck legs that were definitely "off". I was going to throw them away but they looked so plump if a little pongy. Anyway lots of things smell vile before they're cooked. "We're not eating those" they said as they sprayed Oust around the kitchen. OK. We had prawns instead. Vegetarian Tuesday tonight - shouldn't mess that up too badly. I think a hemlock salad to match the green of the dresser should do it, with a strychnine dressing. I'm off to dancing class.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Garden furniture


Undercoating the dining room dresser is going well despite the paintshop losing my paint and me running out of undercoat. I bet it wasn't all straight sailing for Michaelangelo either. Painting the dresser in the garden has made me think how great it would be to have odd bits of furniture in the flower beds with flowers growing out of all the drawers. I will keep my eyes open for an unwanted monstrosity on Freecycle. Is this really really mad?

Now, I am having a serious think about our pebble mosaic and I am going to Wandsworth to collect some pebbles from Hattie on Freecycle. She wanted me to go yesterday then announced they are mixed with lots of mud - I am rapidly going off the idea but I have to go that way for rose spray and farmyard manure so I may as well pick up some muddy free pebbles. Gosh my life is fun!

However, when my garden is looking spectacular and my paths are pebbly and my furniture is painted you can all come round and admire and I will feel so satisfied. In the meantime it's repositioning some of the raised beds, laying the paving slabs and crying of exhaustion for me whilst Mr Smith gazes on admiringly from the comfort of his garden lounger that I have just teak oiled. Must dash and do the ironing, cooking, cleaning, shopping, gardening and painting.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

They will survive

Mr Smith did digging - my back hardly aches at all. I suspect this is a one off so I will have to speak severely to the weeds to ensure they don't grow back. I am now going to watch "How to get your husband and son to lay a path" on YouTube. The first one I looked at involved diggers on a housing estate not a small vegetable garden with the raised beds in the wrong places. I also need to move the husband along a bit to the next weed.

These really weird packs of live slug killer have arrived. You have to store them in the fridge then water them into your flower beds and little creatures come alive and kill the slugs. I imagine them like micro sized ninja warriors. I bet they don't work. They'll have some sort of ceasefire and the slugs will burst into Gloria Gaynor song.

Dilemma du jour: I have grown tired of barbequed food. This is a shame as it means the onus of producing inedible meals falls on me. I did a pork/garlic roasty thing on Saturday and I can still taste the garlic. It was pretty horrible but has great potential. I could make it without the garlic and add something else; not marshmallows or candied peel but maybe parsley, thyme and mushrooms. Meanwhile we will return to our normal diet of burnt sausages. I'll sprinkle them with a bit of live slug killer from the fridge.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Splish splosh crunch

We went out for a fabulous dinner and I ate far too much and felt quite ill in the night with ghastly indigestion, serves me right. I went to swim it off this morning where there was a very overenthusiastic man doing annoying splashy swimming. I had to change lanes to avoid his fallout then discuss his antisocial sploshiness with Judith Big Bra in the changing room. JBB swims every day - she must be as fit as a flea but still dead fat.

Walked home in the drenching rain but was so so happy to see it I was positively Gene Kelly up Roehampton Lane until I got splashed by a bus; probably driven by that man in the pool.

Gardening, ironing, cooking, cleaning or building? Mmmmm? I should be stripping the last bits of varnish off the dresser but I think a cup of tea with a few biscuits from the industrial pack I bought in Costco and the crossword would be infinitely preferable. Our 'not smelly at all but a bit lopsided' dog agrees with me. Perhaps I will do the other things later in the day after another biscuit. I think I will even up the dog's awful haircut first.

Mr Smith will be back from "wet" golf soon. "I see you haven't done the ironing, cooking, cleaning, building or stripping?" Well, I've been busy with some biscuits.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Internet Date

Mr Smith sent me an e-mail yesterday inviting me out to dinner tonight. Gosh - what shall I wear? It's probably MacDonalds so I won't get my hair done.

We have electricity in the shed. Weyhey. The Apprentice son is after all an apprentice electrician, which is why we now don't have any electricity in our house.

I ache. However, our garden is looking better - well dug, and all my vegetables are looking perfect until something comes and digs them up or eats them. The dresser is almost completely stripped. Having sanded away for hours and hours I resorted to stripper and scraper. There is now a colour dispute. The Apprentice wants dark red called Eating Room Red - apt but too difficult to paint. I want Card Room Green - a bit too dark. Mr Smith chose two perfect shades with an either/or approach that seemed just the thing.

Mrs Smith's good deed of the day: On Freecycle there was a request for mugs from a bride to be who found the church hall where they are having their do has no mugs or cups. Oh dear. I have just replaced ours so am able to give away all our old ones. If I root around in the attic I'll probably find a load more. I wonder if they'd like some biscuits too - my overbuy at Costco was serious.

And so to plant. Geraniums in hay thingies and up the wall, busylizzies everywhere else. Time for a bit of colour in my garden other than a couple of blue sheds.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Pitter patter

It's raining! Alleluia! My garden is so pleased. It's not exactly bucketting down but it may yet. I am so excited I am giving you a bonus blogread.

I took the dog to the vet yesterday re missing tail and nose. "Don't you ever bath this dog? He smells, That'll be £75 please." Now I have not only bathed him but given him a bit of a trim too. The only problem with this is he got a bit cheesed off after side one and wandered off. So now I have a half short haired, half long haired dog. But he smells better.

And now I will stare out of the window watching my garden soaking up the rain ... along with the dining room dresser. Oh God no, I forgot I left it outside and it's much too heavy for me to move. I will do something half hearted with an inadequate bit of plastic sheeting. I would call upon Mr Smith or the Apprentice to do this for me but they're busy "bonding" at golf. Mr Smith feels guilty for telling him we don't want him and his brother living with us into our dotage. I don't.

Order of the day

Costco was like waking up in retail heaven. My good buys were things like many a Fairy Liquid and ketchups. My bad buys: almost everything else I crammed into my trolley including most of a pig, all its ribs and bacon forever. I also seem to have overdone the biscuits. When we opened the box there were layers and layers of assorted biccies including those lovely ones with the jam and stuff that looks like sawdust and butter - divine. I got the Apprentice to hide them from Mr Smith.

I started painting the dining room dresser white. I sanded it and primed a couple of drawers. "No, we don't like white. Can we choose a different colour?" Oh well, back to the drawing board, or rather the paint shop, for me.

The Shed progression is always held up by the order of things. The Apprentice can't put anything much in there until the ceiling is up; the ceiling can't go up until the plasterboard is painted - so I painted it - but it can't go up before the lights go in. The lights can't go in until the electricity is in. The electricity can't go in because he needs a different bit and he can't get it because his car is in the garage and anyway he has to wait in for the lights to arrive. Meanwhile I have to fall over all his clobber in the playroom where I want to paint the dresser. I am beginning to hate this damned shed. And it all costs so much money.

Why doesn't it rain? Ever? It is pretty handy for doing outside jobs and I painted ten large pieces of plasterboard outside yesterday. I did a good job as a zillion greenfly came to tell me. I adopted a sort of Buddhist approach to removing them as I discovered they have green blood that marks the plasterboard. I was being a bit perfect about it all forgetting it is for the Shed not the Sistine chapel ceiling. I bet Michaelangelo didn't have to put up with greenfly.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

There's no place like home

Before I start on this rant let me assure you I love my children above all else and would lay my life down for either of them if the need arose. However, Mr & Mrs Smith are agreed on one thing: We do not want to live every day with both our sons. Mind you we felt that when they were 2 and 5 but now they are 21 and 24 we feel quite ill at the prospect of sharing our house with them for the rest of our lives. The Apprentice is now really upset, especially as he has invested so much time and so much of our money in building a shed at the end of the garden. Our timing could have been better but we have only just received the threat of the Student son moving back in.

The Student will soon graduate, with a miracle from the God of Degrees. His plans: "I thought I'd get a job then follow a career in ... I dunno ... I'll move back home and think about it." And the sentence started so well.

I am moving to the seaside.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Dental delights

Horrible happening of the day: I have to go to the dentist. However, I no longer have to go via loads of furniture emporiums looking for a dresser replacement for our dining room. I have to go to the paint shop and consult Messrs Farrow & Ball who I see do a special paint suitable for people modernising their 1980s dressers. I am really excited by this project and can't wait to get started. The Apprentice has to finish insulating the shed first as it looks like a load of dead hamsters have been stuck to the ceiling at the moment. He has to cover this up so I don't get fibreglass/hamster particles on my skin or dresser.

I have to take the dog to the vet to cancel his appointment as I will be at the dentist. Diary keeping never was quite my forte. He has an itchy nose which has lost all its fur - the poor animal looks like a overloved teddy bear.

Tomorrow is the excitement of my Spring. As a post dentist treat I am going to Costco with the Lovely Claudia (as long as she can make it). I love Costco. It's just massive and full of billions of things you never knew you wanted til you see them. And it's all in bulk. 24 camemberts suddenly vie for trolly space with my 18 fairy liquids, 36 toothpastes, 12 jams and 25 packs of frozen prawns, not forgetting 64 Cadbury's Boosts (requested by my sons). Mustn't forget dogfood and deodorants. Mr Smith despairs but is so pleased I don't take him to Costco he just sighs at the sight of me trying to ram all my purchases into cupboards still brimming with my previous purchases; we still haven't got through the five enormous boxes of Crunchy Nut Cornflakes I bought last year. Perhaps we could finish insulating the shed with them.

On a serious note, Nurse Jackie has been found out. That just has to be the best medical tv series ever ever made. If you don't know what I'm on about join Mr Smith who goes to bed the moment it's on. I sit there willing Jackie to take more drugs and tell more lies and she always does. More please.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Dressing down

I hate our pine dresser. It screams 1980 something at me and should be in a twee cottage somewhere rather than in our smart London house. However, on second thoughts I have decided to keep our dreadful pine dresser but give it a facelift. This will be the first project carried out in our new shed. Mr Smith is sighing deeply as if I had made this decision yesterday he wouldn't have had to waste so many hours being dragged around antique shops today. I thought they were valuable hours spent together disagreeing about what horrible things not to have in our house. In the Kingston Antiques Market we met a friend, Penny. She is a fellow golf widow and was delighted to see us. She was also very impressed as well as slightly jealous of Mr and Mrs Smith shopping together. I tried to assure her this was a rare occurrence as usually Mr Smith would be playing golf with her husband and very seldom goes anywhere with his wife unless she looks like spending money on unsuitable pieces of furniture. She looked at us as though we were something sweet so we held hands and looked obligingly soppy. No we didn't.

There was a fabulously good deal on Cadbury's cream eggs in Sainsbury's so Mr Smith bought twelve and I ate them. Well, not all of them ... exactly. The boys helped .... a bit. How many Cadbury's cream eggs is too many? I'll have another one and let you know.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Bag Lady

The Student appeared for about 5 minutes between parties interrupting my viewing of Ben Hur. Do you know .... nobody actually died in the making of 1959 Ben Hur chariot race? However, in the epic 1926 silent version they dropped like flies; an expected hazard of a stuntman's job back in them days.

I watched Britain's got Talent and to my amazement someone I know was on. I have to admit he is a friend of a friend, a brilliant Irish guitarist and singer who now owns a pub in Sussex. He was favourably received and is through to the next round. Phew.

Today's task is to overhaul the contents of my handbag. My beautiful Louis Vuitton has grown rather heavy of late so time for a cull.
Here's what I found:

Two purses containing no money,
A candle (well it's dark in there),
An oyster card and an old fashioned very tatty driving licence,
A torch in the shape of a cow (still dark),
A pair of knickers that I think are mine,
A glasses case bereft of glasses,
Toothpaste and toothbrush - I've been looking for those,
A brush and comb - but not together,
A tv licence reminder - oh actually, on closer inspection I see it's the actual licence,
A diary - I wondered where that was,
Nine pens and a broken hairslide - I'll mend it and do some writing,
2 Chequebooks containing no cheques;
Car keys - oh that's where they got to,
Alan Titchmarsh's guide: How to build a shed;
and How to plant a hanging basket - I might need one ... in my handbag.
An emergency fiver, A chocolate shop loyalty card,
5 lipsticks - 4 containing lipstick in vile unwearable shades, 1 empty,
Unopenable nail varnish - I've tried,
Camera instructions for camera I don't own nor ever have owned,
Nailfile & tweezers - oh how useful, if only I'd known,
Blackberry instructions but no blackberry,
46 receipts and 8 appointment cards;
A very big paperclip,
And lots of fluff, grit and coins and 3 loose keys for unidentified locks.

And now I will put it all back and look somewhere else for my mobile phone.