“We’re looking for a female drinks expert for our new TV show…” said the email. Would I be interested? First reaction was YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING. Closely followed by well, you know, I suppose I could. Nothing to lose. How hard can it be? Turns out, really f*cking hard. All I had to …
Last night, as I shoved unsolicited advice about sparkling wines down your throats, Tara tweeted asking for some still wine recommendations, especially reds, for Christmas. So, since she asked, here’s what I’ve got in for next week: Whites in the fridge: Tesco Finest Argentinian Chardonnay 2010, £5 on offer, Tesco I shipped in some NZ …
Last night we had our latest Book Club meeting. Yet again, I failed to finish the book so had to ask a fellow BC member to fill me in on the details. I do try, really I do but in the evenings, once the children are done, food is cooked, a bit of telly is …
Heroines, I’ve had a few: Nightingale (Florence & Annie), Nigella and any number of Jilly Cooper characters included (the ones who weren’t obviously pretty but then became ravishing once drenched in Diorissimo and tight on thunderous G&Ts). Another heroine is Jancis Robinson MW (Master of Wine), a walking wine authority. Jancis started Wine Relief in 1999 and has helped raise nearly …
I’ve always dismissed the Christmas round robin letter idea. Even worse, an e-Christmas card. But this evening I found myself replying via email to a group of old friends who are now placed all over the world and realised that summing up all the important news in one’s life is actually a very good exercise. Here’s mine: Eldest …
I’ve been watching Nigellaah cook on telly this evening. I love her. And, I. Want. Her. Kitchen. I have kitchen envy! How did it come to this? Surely I want the never-ending supply of jewel-coloured cashmere short-sleeved jumpers? Or, at least, the multi-millionaire husband and his art collection. Actually, no. I just want that kitchen. Although, must be said, the faux dinner …
I had to work last Saturday at a wine fair, leaving bearded husband with the three children from 8 in the morning until 8 at night. When I got home, the children were all in bed, the (ready made) fish pie was in the oven and the house surprisingly tidy. There was even a glass of wine with my name on it. I …
The Knackered Mother (knackeredus maternius) is most commonly seen in her natural habitat, the kitchen. Here, she slaves away putting food on the table for her children to flick all over the floor, occasionally falling silent to actually eat some of it. She exists on a diet of sandwich crusts, leftover fish fingers and mint kitkats with the …
Three brave fellow British Mummy Bloggers have just returned from a visit to Bangladesh with Save The Children to raise awareness for the Press For Change campaign, one that aims to help prevent the deaths of children. 9 million a year, to be precise. I’ve been following their trip here and whooping (to myself) when reading about …
A friend told me today that she is on a new regime, wine-free Monday to Friday (same friend who thought this site was called the Naked Mother’s Wine Club, told her to be careful when searching that one). Later, a Twitter humour-twin announced she was having a glass of Champagne tonight for no particular reason. In turn, I admire both the restraint and sybaritic …
Someone once said – probably Germaine – that beyond a certain age, women become invisible. I’d always assumed that referred to women my mother’s age* but a funny thing happened last week that made me think it might happen sooner than anticipated. As I walked out of Topshop on Oxford Street (see how I’m fighting it?) a young hipster stood with a microphone doing …
Someone once said – probably Germaine – that beyond a certain age, women become invisible. I’d always assumed that referred to women my mother’s age* but a funny thing happened last week that made me think it might happen sooner than anticipated. As I walked out of Topshop on Oxford Street (see how I’m fighting it?) a young hipster stood with a microphone doing …
I love putting pretty hairclips in my daughter’s hair, sweeping her long fringe to one side and sweeping the enforced-genderism-at-such-a-tender-age argument to the other. It’s a hairclip, FFS. Anyway, point is with two boys I’d only really considered childrens’ haircuts in terms of nit prevention. Not so with the baby girl: she has lovely hair, long enough to need aforementioned hairclips to keep it out of her eyes. At …
Wine is an excellent thing. Apologies for the inarticulate nature of this opening statement but with two out of three children currently running a temperature + a forgotten-about school closure day for the only one without a temperature + work day that culminated with middle boy wondering into the study half-way through a conference call dressed as a Power Ranger, I …
I was locked in a padded cell in a karaoke bar in Soho for two hours on Saturday night and learnt the following: 1. Girls Aloud is not as good karaoke material as you might think. 2. I Know Him So Well – with one playing Babs and the other Elaine – however, is very good indeed. 3. The end …
I’m not sure quite when it was that I turned into my mother, but I have spent the last hour making mince pies. I’ve been accompanied by a Christmas playlist – made by still-bearded husband – and a rather gorgeous glass of Chianti Classico. Nonetheless, no-one warned me middle-aged Christmas domesticity would come and slap me in the face in …
A pair of Clarks shoes to be precise. I didn’t realise quite how much of a landmark it was at the time. All I’d done was wander past the shoe shop in town pushing the littlest one in the buggy on the way to the post office when a pair of shoes on the sale …
My husband says I’m not to mention him in this blog unless it is in a positive light. So, unless my devastingly good-looking, intelligent, witty, so-hands-on-with-the-children-I-don’t-know-how-lucky-I-am husband does anything to upset me, he won’t be featuring. And so to the wines. A girlfriend turned up tonight to drop her son off for a sleepover and …
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