Cooking & Kissing

Am I in bed yet? Today I have, in more or less this order:

Cooked porridge

Made 2 packed lunches

Kissed Rowan

Kissed Jake

Walked to playschool and back

Kissed Arlo

Cooked something very earnest for me involving bulgar wheat (it needs eating up) and greens

Cooked something very earnest for Arlo involving lentils (he’s no fan of bulgar wheat)

Kissed Arlo

Cleaned the bath and basin, taking care to ignore toilet

Walked to playschool and back

Kissed Jake

Kissed Arlo

Built the Hotwheels Swampbeast track from memory (Rowan – take note!)

Played cars/Hide and Seek/Playdough/acted as human trampoline (nB – under 5’s are heavier than they look)

Cooked mashed potato and fashioned baked bean veneer over 3 types of veg for kids’ tea

Bathed the children

Cooked something very earnest for Row and I involving black-eye beans (they need eating up too) and brown rice

I am now going to read Heat magazine and finish off Arlo’s Easter eggs – a mother’s work….

Night night

Hairy Stairs

Have had a lovely day in the garden with the boys. Arlo has been waddling about, shouting at trees. Jake, who has a creative rather than dynamic sprinting style, has been furthering his conviction that he is the fastest runner ever ever ever. He looked to me today for confirmation thereby presenting me with a dilemma: go along with it and let him be cruelly crushed with the truth from someone else at a later, and potentially more embarrassing, date. Or. Cruelly crush him with the truth myself. Obviously opted for the former, which had the added bonus of not having to put too much effort into racing him. Everyone’s a winner! Also noticed how hirsute our stairs have become. Truly remarkably hairy. It would appear that all the hairs from the emerging pink scalps of our neighbourhood have receded onto our staircase to find solace and companionship. Nearly got as far as vacuuming them but thought a) could be stopping some of the draughts that are whistling up between our floorboards (surely Spring is not allowed to be colder than Winter?!) and b) that I urgently needed to, well, do absolutely anything else…So I shouted at trees for a bit with Arlo then inched a few more races with Jake. Like I said, a lovely day, and the house is no colder.


Still no word from La Winterson.

Hello Cyberspace

Am positively giddy with the success of having a (particularly pithy, I thought) letter published in the Weekend Guardian. Jeanette Winterson will probably now think very hard before dissing any more Northern seaside towns, I’m sure…Actually, in response to her deciding Scarborough is not for her without even visiting it, I have invited her to come and see for herself. I imagine it’s not the most enticing offer she’s had all week. However, everyone, needs a change from the London high life occasionally, if only to be able to regale others over canapés at Shoreditch House with tales of bleak landscapes, lives unfulfilled and recipes involving lard.

Am awaiting a response.

Elsewhere, Jake has taken to the sofa after announcing he’s having the worst day of his life, despite the fact it’s actually been quite nice. The melodramatic streak must be from Rowan’s side. Arlo has put most things, rubbish or not, in the bin. He is showing signs of being a compulsive tidy-er. Sadly, not from my side either…

Rowan is cooking dinner and I know for a fact we are both thinking about the bottle of wine that’s singing its siren’s song from the worktop, despite the fact “we only drink on Friday and Saturday night”…Hmmm…Cheers!