The Valerie Palmer Cup

At the end of every school year, the schools here in England have Speech Day. Year 2 is the first year that students attend so this was our first Speech Day. It is held the Sunday before the last week of school in the awe inspiring architecture of St George's Chapel in Windsor Castle.

Awards are given to the Year 8 Leavers and special awards are given to each class year for most improved and kindness. The are also special awards for achievement in dance, science, sports, etc.

I had spoken to Marc about this and evidence of some fairly deep childhood trauma emerged as my husband was refusing to attend what he considered to be the most boring event of the year. I did point out to Marc that it was always possible that Sebastian could receive an award and he wouldn't want to miss that. Marc said that if Sebastian was going to receive an award he would know it. I interrogated our son and he assured me he wasn't going to win an award.

I gave Marc a pass, took up the gauntlet and duly performed my parental duty of representing our family at the ceremony.

The Canon of St George's Chapel gave a sweet introduction and the headmaster of St George's, Roger Jones, gave a wonderful speech about the school's achievements in the past year as well as a reminder of the school's philosophy for the educational and social commitment to our children. It was reassuring to find those still roughly aligned with ours.

Then the long list of awards began and I applauded for those I didn't know and those I did. And then the most astonishing thing happened. My son's name was called.

Sebastian Clare-Panton is the proud recipient of the Valerie Palmer Cup. This is an award given to a student of St George's Pre-Prep department who has attended all 4 years of pre-prep and has made a positive contribution to the classroom ethos. They display a positive attitude and just get on with it no matter what comes their way.

I am so proud of him. I wanted to hoot and hollar. I had to remind myself that I was in a most sacred Chapel. And Marc missed the whole thing!

The Outcast by Sadie Jones

After struggling through every word, every page, and every paragraph of The Sound and The Fury, I was initially relieved to have a book which was easy to read. I flew this book and was able to read without having to think. But the novelty wore off rather quickly.

This is Jone's debut novel and despite what the critics say, you can tell. It feels rushed. And sophmoric.

Lewis is an odd boy to begin with. He is smothered with love by his eccentric mother and thrown completely off bablance when his father returns home after fighting in the second World War. He was only 2 when his father left and he doesn't know this man who has suddenly commandeered all of his mother's attention. During a picnic with his mother, she drowns.

This was only the first plot device that seems contrived. She was a good swimmer and whilst his mother was tipsy from far too much wine in the afternoon it is never clear to me how she drowned or why he couldn't save her. It is amazing how sobering a dip in very cold water can be. Trust me, I know. Just don't ask how!

Lewis is surrounded by broken people, far too many broken people. Not a single adult steps in to help or offer comfort. Now maybe that is the time and the place but it didn't ring true to me.

This could be a good book and maybe the author's talent will mature. The characters are only superficially developed with the exception of Lewis. And his oddness seems false and manufactured, the way a teenager dramatises their difference when trying to establish their own identity separate from their parents. I'd give this one a miss. There is just too little time to waste on mediocre literature.

Book Group Verdict: Everyone loved it but me. Maybe I need a new book group. I should have published this post ages ago but I forgot!

Seb Learns to Ride a Bike.......

......finally. the stabilizers (training wheels) have come off at my insistence and over the last couple of evenings we have taken Sebastian out to master the art of riding a bicycle, an important life skill that you never forget (or so I'm told).

And he's done it!

Dancing with Matt

Not entirely sure who this guy is or what he is doing dancing around the wolrd but I love the videos! Even the outakes are good!

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

This book caught me completely off guard. A few months back one of the mums at school had said to me she was reading a book which she thought I would love. It was set in Germany during the second World War (at which point my attention waned) and it is told from the perspective of death (at which point I wondered what this woman thought of me if she thought I would love this book).

But then I kept hearing snippets about it and the premise intrigued me.

It is indeed set in Molching, Germany just outside of Munich and not far from Dachau and the concentration camps and extermination ovens. It is indeed narrated by death but death is not something to fear. It is rather a compassionate and extraordinarily compassionate task master who needs to take each of us off to the inevitable end regardless of how we lived our life.

The story centres on Liesel Meminger, a young girl who lives her young life in these tumultuous times whilst her father brings home a Jew to hide in the basement and her blond haired blue eyed neighbour boy develops a crash on her. She loves to read and steals books to read to herself, to the Jew, to the people hiding in the bomb shelter as the adults around her wreck havoc.

In the end she is all that is left. The Fuhrer is dead, her parents have been killed by the Allied bombing, the neighbour boy is dead. The Jew returns to her and gives her the strength to carry on. She marries and has children, grand children and death comes to take her away.

This is a beautiful and sublime book. I love the characters, each and everyone of them are elegantly depicted. The weaving of the story in and out of inhumane and humour is exquisite.

I highly recommend this book. Pick this up just as soon as you can.

Editor's Note: pages 550

Olympic Gold

After sports day and the swimming galas I can now confirm that it is extraordinarily doubtful that either of my children will be winning any Olympic gold on behalf of either the UK or USA. Abigail ran every race with her tongue out. Seb waved at every one as he sauntered past oblivious to the fact that this was a race.

At the swimming gala Abigail was having fun playing whilst Sebastian had to use a float for every stroke other than the normal stroke where he finished after several minutes.....he climbed out of the water exhausted. Luckily, all of his classmates were chanting his name so I am hoping that he won't be permanently emotionally scarred as a result of his lack of physical prowess.

Click on the photo below to get a complete photo montage of the swimming galas.

Once Upon a Time

St George's School presented a series of traditional children's stories for the PrePrep Entertainment. Sebastian starred as the Gingerbread Man in a costume designed and made by Auntie Mary. He was a star! Click on the photo to see a slideshow of the entire photo collection.

StG Sports Day Extravanganza 2008

Click on the Photo below for a photographic montage of the glorious Sports Day 2008!

Hat

My hat for Ascot this year was extra special. My dress was far too big so I told the shop I needed a hat which would ensure no one noticed how big the dress was. I think they succeeded. I loved it!

Immensely Interesting

Read This!

Sponsor Me

I'm running in the Running4Women 8k in September and raising money for breast cancer research. Please be generous and support this worthy and relevant cause. Just click below.

Break Down

We had an off the scale busy weekend.

Friday evening was the Old Windsor Donkey Derby.

Saturday I dropped Abigail off at Football Camp. Marc went to help build the Beaver Scout float (theme Lapland - don't ask!). I sewed Sebastian's elf shoes and hat. I picked Abigail up at Fottball Camp. Marc dropped me off at the Scout Burger stall at the Old Windsor Carnival where I served up hamburgers, cheeseburgers, hot dogs, and chips ( US= french fries) for 2 hours despite it being the last day of my diet. He then dropped Sebastian (aka Elf) at the float before the start of the parade. When my shift was over we ran across the village green to catch the end of the parade and saw my little elf.

On Sunday morning I went to my last diet group meeting and came home to pick up the family to take a quick trip into London. We had thousands of things to do as we headed home when the car stalled at a busy intersection in Central London. We waited for nearly 5 hours for the recovery truck to show up to tow our car and transport us home by which time it was far too late to do even 1 of the thousand things.

Boy was I glad just to be home!

PS: See the sick car behind us on the tow!!

Happy 7th Birthday, Sebastian!

Sick Angel

My little princess was on her way to her ballet lesson this afternoon when she vomited all over her little ballet skirt. She vomited all the way home in Daddy's car into her dance bag (glad it wasn't my car). She had a nice warm bath and has been having the dry heaves on and off all evening and is feeling pretty sorry for herself. Poor little girl.

Strictly Come Dancing

Sebastian had a themed birthday party on Saturday: Strictly Come Dancing.

He had been excited from the moment he got the invitation. He designed his own costume and practiced his dance moves. I messed up with the costume because I couldn't find a red satin shirt. We settled for a white satin shirt after the fourth dance shop let us down.

But he came up trumps with his dance moves and even won a prize at the party.

The girls are still talking about what an amazing dancer he is! Guess those ballet lessons are paying off.

Check him out!

Mac Convert

For Christmas last year, my husband gave me a mini Mac. I loved the idea of it. I loved the look of it. I hated using it.

I complained here on my blog. I complained to colleagues who were Mac converts and I persisted.

I've spent quite a bit of time using it and therein is the secret to using the Mac. I've figured out shortcuts and the text editor offers far richer features. The machine is far more stable than my other pc. Firefox actually remembers my passwords when I tell it to. The predictive text consistently works.

I haven't by any stretch of the imagination used the Mac as much as I should but that is due to demands on my time to do other things. we still keep all of our photos on the pc and with our photos are our videos. this means it is a bit of a fiddle to get the videos over to the Mac and edit them. I'm still trying to find the time to edit the video from Sebastian's performance of The Sound of Music. But first I have to figure out how to get it over to the Mac.

This would all be solved if we had a file server but again, Marc has been unable to carve out some time to set it up. My verdict is a definite thumbs up!

Crime Statistics

If you are in the USA, depending on where you live, SpotCrime can be either incredibly frightening or a soothing reassurance. Could come in handy when considering where to buy a home or send your children to school. Word of warning, I've heard the data can be a bit unrealiable. But interesting nonetheless.

If you are in the UK, tough. This data is not released to the public. Do you smell a conspiracy?

Economic Hardship

I've waited a long time to write this post. I wanted to wait until my blood stopped boiling from another post I read written by someone else some place else. You know who you are.


I waited because I didn't want to be overly emotional but I reckon that even after waiting this long that is going to be hard to do.


Sure there are people out there who live beyond their financial means and use their credit cards when they should be using cash. They buy houses they can't afford and Starbucks every morning instead of their utilities every month. They overindulge their children with expensive toys never teaching those children the value of money. These people are irresponsible and should suffer the consequences of their bad decisions.


These are not the vast majority of people suffering from the current economic landscape.

The people suffering are those who have managed their money carefully making sure to put away a little bit each month into their emergency fund for a rainy day and a little bit more towards their retirement fund. But the fact that wholesale gas prices have risen from $25/barrel to over $120 in just 5 years has meant that you have to make a decision to pay either the gas or the electricity because you simply can't afford both. The same price increase has meant that people can't afford to fill up their cars with fuel to get to work. and don't give me that nonsense about go buy a car that gets better gas mileage. If they had the money to buy a new car they'd pay their gas and electricity. and the increase of food prices at the grocery store have risen by over 7% in 6 months have meant that their food bill has gone up so dramatically they no longer have money for retirement or rainy days. They struggle to pay a mortgage on a home they've paid for 10 years due to the misguided attempt to control inflation with interest rate manipulation.

You can live in your big cushy house with your big salary smiling that smug smile whilst you look down on those who have less than you warm with the feeling that you currently reside at the top of the economic pyramid. I hope that you never lose your job particularly as you get older and the younger generation proves your ideas old fashioned, skills obsolete and your experience irrelevant. I hope your family is blessed with good health and no one close to you is critically injured or diagnosed with a terminal illness not covered by your medical insurance or for which there is no cure. Heaven forbid you even find yourself in the middle of the pyramid because the path from the middle to the bottom appears to be getting shorter every day.

In the meantime I am looking for pennies in the sofa.

Wealth

A fabulous article for those of you who want to be millionaires (and who doesn't?).

Editors Note: Thanks Clare Bear!

Giving

Before buying another present for someone who doesn't need or want it, visit Kiva.

And give. Generously.

The Last Juror by John Grisham

I got bored with John Grisham years ago. His plots were the same he just changed the names and the genders of his main characters. My favourite Grisham novel was actually his first novel, A Time to Kill, which was re-released after the runaway bestseller, The Firm, which was later made into a film starring Tom Cruise.


So I've skipped the last 10 or so Grisham cookie cutter novels, particularly after his cookie cutter novels became cookie cutter films.


The Last Juror was given to me by Gill after she had powered through it and thought I might enjoy the quick read. And I did indeed!


Willie Traynor is a 23 year old, who just happens to have a rich aunt and be perhaps the luckiest fictional characer I've read about in the last 10 years. He also happens to be the bravest when he takes over the local small town paper to starts telling the stories no one else is telling, eg local corruption, racism, school integration. The story really takes off when a young widow with 2 small children is murdered. It's an open and shut case against a young man who just happens to be a member of a renowned family of hoodlums. But then he vows revenge on those who sentenced him.


The novel is filled with wonderful caracaitures of southern eccentrics, my favourite being Callie Ruffin. Like all of Grisham's novels, it is set in the south and the story starts its telling in the 1970s which must have been an incredibly interesting time to be in the south (of the USA, people!). The ending is sweet although I saw the twist coming a mile away.


This is one of those page turning, read in a couple of hours, entertaining books. Not gonna change your world but a whole lot of fun!

The Rug

I've been meaning to post a photograph of my rug. If you don't know what I'm talking about read this.

The beautiful purchase arrived as promised right on time and has had pride of place in the lounge. It is soooo soft both the children and I love taking our shoes and socks off and walking around on it. the only challenge we have is keeping Bailey (the dog) off of it!

Gorgeous, isn't it?

Shopping Fun

My shopping trip did not end in tears. For once I had more in my dressing room that fit than I could afford (or wanted to afford) to buy.

I had to carefully restrain myself to not buy more than I needed to get me through the next couple weeks. I bought just what was on my list (another top tip from the stylist). I bought things in sizes much smaller than I thought I was although I have to confess I was massively annoyed at the inconsistency in sizes even within the same store. I had one pair of size 10 (US 8) that fit but a size 14 (US 12) that didn't both in the Gap. What's up with that? It sure doesn't make shopping very easy!

I went to my diet group meeting feeling like I was looking gooooood. First time in a long time I went anywhere feeling proud of my appearance.

I can hardly wait to do some more shopping! Boy, never thought I'd hear myself say that again.

Clothing Crisis

My wardrobe has dwindled to next to nothing, which is a good thing but also a bad thing. It means all my fat clothes have gone to new homes. It also means I've got nothing to wear. And I mean nothing.

I've still got 26 pounds to go so I know that in a few months I will need to replace anything I buy but equally I've got to buy because everything is falling off me.

I've been able to nick a few things from the fat club (diet group) hand me down bags but I am in serious trouble.

I rewarded myself with the advice of a professional stylist this week. She did my colours (which instinctually I knew) and advised that every woman must have great fitting bras (which I also knew - see bra post). But she did give me some great advice that I have haphazardly and at my peril ignored for the last 44 years of my life.

1. Wear your trousers long, especially if you are short. Your ankle bone (that round sticky outy thing on the side of your ankle) should never see the light of day if you are wearing trousers. So I guess that is the end of my cropped trousers which are the only trousers I have in my wardrobe. Doesn't break my heart so much as they are hanging off me anyway but they are the only trousers in my wardrobe right now.

2. If you find trousers that fit really well and you really like them buy 2 pairs of them at the same time. Have one pair altered to fit when wearing heels and the other for flats to ensure adherence to rule number 1.

3. Buy jackets in bold colours to jazz up anything. Make sure the jacket fits and if it doesn't get it altered.

4. Find a good seamstress for all these alterations and keep her.

5. Don't wear black up against your face without breaking it up with a scarf or a bold necklace.

6. Skirts should stop either at the slimmest part of your leg (for me this is much longer than I usually wear) or just above the knee (but only in the summer).

7. Get a pedicure once a summer (at the least).

Then stylist then went through my wardrobe. I knew this wasn't going to take long. There isn't anything there! It was nice to know I wasn't doing so badly on my own but a little heart breaking to know that a few of my favourite pieces needed to go to new homes. I've got a list of essential items she made for me to get me through the next few months and we are off today to procure those items.

I've got high hopes of this not ending in tears like so many previous shopping trips of late. I refused to go shopping when I was fat(ter) unless I absolutely had to (eg underwear). I have now purchased some rather flash (and a wee bit sexy) knickers which are meeting with Marc's approval. The last time I went into the shops was just before my trip to India and I wasn't as small as I was hoping I was but I've lost 11 pounds since then so I should not be disappointed.

I've made 3 piles of clothing: 1) Favourites that can be altered for the seamstress 2) Donations to the fat club 3) Suitable to be sold on eBay to fund my new wardrobe

All of those will be delivered to their rightful places by Tuesday next week.

Oh and I got my haircut. Really cut. So cut that even the men in my office noticed.

The future is so bright, I gotta wear shades!

Bras

Men might want to skip this post and red the one about baseball instead. Or if you want to be particularly enlightened to the trials of tribulations of being a woman feel free to read on. I’m not proud.

With all this weight loss going on, my bra situation had reached critical mass (no pun intended). My puppies were hanging down to my navel. I have lost nearly 5 inches around my back and my cup size had significantly decreased. The back was riding up to my neck and the straps were generally falling down around my elbows. The cups were so big I could have stuffed a small animal in them to keep my puppies company.

I was trying to be thrifty and make due with the bras I had. Knowing that I still have at least 27 pounds to go, I have no doubt that I will have to make a further investment if I buy now.

And bras are an investment at my size. It’s not like I can just pop out to WalMart and purchase a 34H….yes, you read that right – H.

I decided I just couldn’t make do any longer. I made an appointment with Rigby & Peller, the famed London store for all things bra related. This store is noted for their personalised and accurate no nonsense fitting service. Oh, and they have a royal warrant. If the bras are good enough for the Queen, they are good enough for me.

Marc & the children dropped me off at the curb and I went in. In no time I was in front of the mirror with a woman man handling my puppies into an appropriate bra and I was out of the store within 30 minutes.

My puppies are now fully contained and maintaining their position rather well. The bra is comfortable (well, as comfy as bras get) and I haven’t had to pull the straps up or the back down once today. I know a return trip will be required in 4-5 weeks but right now it is worth it.

The B-Word

Can you believe we are more than halfway through May and I haven't even mentioned the B-word on my blog? Not even once since spring training started in March. But I can't hold back any longer.

The Red Sox and Cubbies are both in first place in their division but the Rockies are struggling down in third. the critics are having a field day saying it proves the fluke of their World Series appearance lat year. Well, fluke or no fluke I was proud of them to just get there. I get to watch 2 games/week over here and am seriously considering subscribing to mlb live over the internet. problem with this is I am asleep for most games.....so it doesn't really work for me.

We are going to be in the states for nearly 3 weeks this summer. In the schedule, we've got plans to catch 1 game in Colorado. I wonder if my family would be cross if I sit in front of the television watching baseball all day/all night every day. Yeah, that probably won't go down so well.

Sebastian has started batting practice in the back garden. He's good. Do scouting agents come over here?

Oh, how I love the boys of summer!

Motivation

Everyone keeps asking me how I did this and telling me they could never do it.

Well, let me tell you something, the answer to both questions is the same: It all depends on how much you want it. Until you want it so bad it hurts, it probably won't happen.

Marc and I will be going to the St George's School Summer Ball in June and I didn't want to the be largest woman in the room again. Maybe that is a slight exaggeration but it is how it felt to me. I didn't want to cry in the dressing room whilst I tried on dress after dress after dress and be massively horrified that I could find nothing that helped cover my bumps and bulges without exposing other bumps and bulges. In recent years, this has been one of the most mortifying experiences.

The other big motivational factors was when I was sitting amongst a group of women who started discussing fat people and how disgusting they were (I'm paraphrasing) among other critical statements about the sex life of fat people. All of these women are slim and trim and they had either completely forgotten I was fat or I had put on my invisibility cloak and they didn't realise I was in the room. I cried all the way home thinking these women, some who I have known for nearly 8 years and who I thought were my friends, think I'm disgusting.

That was it. It was the next day that I made the commitment to do something about it. Now I'm doing this for me. I feel great. I am looking better. A man from the office that I barely know (except in passing) walked up to me in the corridor the other day and told me he kept thinking to himself something had changed. Then he said he realised I had dropped a massive amount of weight and looked great. What a sweet thing for him to say.

I read a few months back that fat people are less successful at their careers. I decided to put that to the test. I looked at all the people who are above me in the corporate food chain and you know what? Not a single one of them is overweight. Not even a little bit.

Working mums have a tougher go at this weight management issue. I would love to spend my mornings at the gym and my afternoons at the tennis court and my evenings taking a run. OK, maybe not all on the same day but this isn't even an option for me. Carving out even 30 minutes for exercise presents some challenges for me since I rarely have 10 minutes to myself before 9 pm (not exactly prime exercise time).

I know once I hit my goal weight the journey is not over. I've registered for the Running4Women Windsor 8K on 20 September and my training starts today! If anyone wants to be a running buddy, please let me know! I could use the encouragement (and pressure to train). I did this run 2 years ago and am hopeful I can better my time especially since when I ran it then I was 12 pounds heavier than I am now! I was just happy to finish it without dying. This year I have loftier goals.

I'm on currently on day 77, only 23 more days to go. I've got a fair amount of anxiety around going back to normal food. Carbohydrates in particular scare the living daylights out of me. I've started my weekly meal planning for post program success. I will undoubtedly still have about 15 or so pounds to go so managing this without the assistance of my shakes and bars will prove a challenge.

I have started taking this into consideration with my weekly meal planning. For the last 12 weeks I've written the meal plans for Marc and the children with the sole intention of minimising the effort Marc would have to put into the cooking since he had to do this on his own. I didn't want him to have to work too hard. But now the meal plans beyond week 14 have to consider my dietary requirements as well as maintaining something that my children and husband will eat and still doesn't take 4 hours to prepare. This hasn't been easy. My kids aren't so keen on salads.

I'm having a major wardrobe crisis. I have 4 pairs of trousers that sort of fit. In fact they are too big but I can manage to keep them up with a drawstring waist. None of my jeans fit me any more. I've got 4 skirts which are great for work (but not so good for mummy duty). I've got a dozen long sleeve shirts and about the same number of short sleeve shirts. None of it really goes together very well. Even all my pajamas are way too big. I really don't want to go spend money on wardrobe items when I know I still have 28 pounds to go but recognise that at some point I will have buy some interim items. I just hate wasting the money.

But I tell you I am soooooo looking forward to the Summer Ball. I haven't bought my dress yet. I haven't even started looking. I've enlisted the help of a stylist and she is excited to help me navigate this anxiety ridden journey. What should be amusing is that I intend to have a glass of wine (or two) on the evening. This will be the first alcohol I will have had in over 100 days. I suspect this should be fairly entertaining for those around me. Top tip (from a concerned bystander) was to mix the wine with some soda water. Now, who would do this to a great glass of wine? Some friends have offered to ensure I stay standing upright. Now with friends like that, what else do you need? (Besides a killer dress!)

Freakonomics by Levitt & Dubner

I gave this book to my husband for Christmas last year. He read it in just a few days which if you know my husband is a pretty strong endorsement for a book. Or maybe not since he reads Jeremy Clarkson books with the same enthusiasm. (Americans won't get that reference - don't worry about it).

I managed to read this in just a few days as well and found it fascinating. It wasn't quite what I expected....actually it was nothing like I expected but it did put forth a couple of thought provoking ideas.

Levitt is a well respected economics prodigy and Dubner is a journalistic friend who thought he could help Levitt tell his story and explain his theories to the masses.

The theory that legalised abortion caused the remarkable reduction in crime rates in the early 90s is perhaps one of the most controversial. The discussion of corruption amongst sumo wrestlers is a somewhat amusing but how this technique was used to eliminate cheating teachers from the Chicago school system was inspirational. It is a shame that the theory about how the KKK was brought down proved later to be based on an urban myth but hey, when your data set is flawed, what's an economist to do?

One of the authors' objectives in writing this book was not so much to prove or disprove various correlations between data sets but more to get people questioning conventional wisdom and asking the right questions.

This is was most certainly a fascinating read. And it only takes a few short hours to get all the way through it. I recommend it if you are willing to look at the world from a different perspective.

The Sound and The Fury by William Faulkner

WARNING: This book is not for the faint hearted or the literary challenged.

I struggled through that first chapter like I've never struggled before. I wanted to curl up under a rug and I hide knowing that this was my choice for book group this month and the ladies in my group were going to hate it and/or refuse to finish it.

Both were true (ish).

I found the first chapter completely baffling and thought maybe I had lost the ability to read. I quickly sought solace in the internet and found some reading guides (like Cliff Notes) online. Ah, then it started to make a bit of sense.

I found everyone struggles through that first chapter.

The story is about the Compson family in 1920s and each chapter is told by a different member of the family (although technically the last chapter is the narrated by the author). The first chapter is told by Benjy, the mentally handicapped brother of Quentine, Caddie and Jason. Their father has died and their mother is either a hypochondriac or the laziest woman ever as she spends their entire life in bed. The children are cared for by their black housekeeper, Dilsey, and the various members of her family.

The first chapter is told by Benjy which is why it is such a complete random stream of consciousness.

The second chapter, told by Quentin, was easier although similarly baffling but now that I understood that Faulkner is playing with time and memory, I relaxed a bit and just let the words pour over me like a hot shower on a cold morning. This chapter thrilled me because it is where I found Faulkner's most beautiful writing. the pages of the second chapter are littered with me highlighting as I read page after page of beautiful words. You don't realise until well into the third chapter that Quentin commits suicide at the end of the second chapter at which point you gotta go reread what he's written.

The third chapter is told by Jason, a bitter, sick, and twisted man. Although this chapter is well ordered and time and place make sense, this was my least favourite chapter but only because I hated Jason.

The book takes place over 4 days and ends. It just ends. There's no finding of the missing Caddie or Quentin (her daughter, not her brother). There's no morality tale. You don't know the whys or wherefores. It just ends.

Faulkner writes the first two chapters largely in stream of consciousness which I find so incredibly difficult to read. He also moves through time the way you recall memories (not in any particular order). He also gives the same name to multiple characters. i don't think Faulkner wrote this novel to be read. I think he wrote it for his own pleasure. And if we all happened to like it well all the better.

I am glad I read this. I am more glad that I invested the considerable amount of time and effort to understand it a bit better. I have a feeling this is one of those books that gets better with multiple readings. I feel that I have had to reread so many parts of the book to help me get what was going on that I have already read it at least 3 times but I suspect it will be one of those works that I pick up again in a few years and give another go.

Some critics have called this one of Faulkner's greatest works. He is considered by some the greatest American novelist of all time. I haven't read anything else he has written so I can't offer up an opinion here. But I can recommend that you give it a go. It's not a long book. But a word of warning. Get a reading guide from the internet and read it first. Don't worry, you won't spoil the ending but you will increase your chances of actually finishing the novel and maybe even increase your understanding of this baffling piece of literature.

Book Group Verdict: Only 2 people finished it (I didn't even finish it). One loved it. One didn't understand it. The others gave up 20 pages or so into the first chapter. Next month will be a much easier endeavour: The Outcast by Sadie Jones.

Halfway and Then Some

I've now lost half the weight towards my goal. I reach this milestone with a mixture of joy and frustration.

I am on day 70 which means that I've not eaten proper food for 70 days. Phew! There are been some genuine white knuckle moments but I am pleased that I have stuck with it and know I can manage the next 30 days without too many challenges. I mean, if I've made it this far why would I give up now, right?

On the other hand, I am frustrated to the core that having not eaten for 70 days my weight loss has been significantly below the expected weight loss for the program. I should be losing .5 pound/day or 3.5/week. I haven't. I lost far less.

My mind gets in my way and I start thinking I could lose this without the starvation element. I start thinking I could eat sensibly and exercise and lose even more.

But then I convince myself that I've got to stick to my commitment to myself to finish the 100 days and this morning I find myself going to yet another meeting of my "group".

I know that at the end of the 100 days I'll still have at least 20 pounds to go to my goal weight and realise that I will have to keep working beyond 8 June to lose those final pounds.

Oh, give me strength!

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Finish every day and be done with it.


You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities crept in; forget them as soon as you can.


Tomorrow is a new day; You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.

The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett

Over 1000 pages......are you kidding me? Despite Oprah's urgings I had resisted reading this book simply because of its heft. I couldn't bear the thought of either carrying the book around or trying to hold it up as I read it in bed. But the enthusiastic urgings of various friends and other book reviews encouraged me to forget my misgivings and give it a go. I've carried this weight to Toronto and back and now all over my epic Indian Safari.

And I am glad I did. This was a history lesson and provided fascinating insight into the life of the resident of 12th century England (with a little bit of France thrown in for good measure).

I've heard that many of Ken Follett's previous books are filled with a cast of thousands and can be difficult to manage as a result. This book is no different. There is a cast of thousands; thousands of monks and landed gentry, and peasants, and royalty. The drama takes you from the rolling hills and forests of southern England to the religious pilgrimages to Spain and beyond and then back to the building of Notre Dame. And yet the subtle weaving of the stories of these lives is captivating. The lives of this cast of thousands cross paths time and time again making small and big differences to the outcomes of their lives.

Each character is lovingly developed with attention to the individuals. No shallow characters here. And no gross generalisations either. The characters never become parodies even the evil William and the alleged witch Ellen.

I wish I knew more about architecture before I started reading it but I certainly know more about architecture having read it. The purpose behind flying buttresses is now abundantly clear. I feel I understand better the purpose behind building those epic cathedrals.

Civil war, famine, bad weather, and greed/corruption of church officials and barons had a direct impact on the lifestyle of everyone and it appears to have been extremely difficult to escape the varying degrees of destruction and strife each one left.

My favourite character was Aliena, a member of a royal family, appearing initially as spoilt rotten, who loses her royal status, nearly starves and is brutally raped but finds deep inside her a survivor spirit and fights back year after year through hard work and brute determination to establish herself as a self sufficient woman making a fundamental contribution to society. Eventually she finds within herself the capability to love which had long been suppressed. She was such a strong character I loved and admired her.

The only disappointment is the very last chapter. Thomas Beckett appears out of nowhere and the story ends with a neat and tidy moral lesson. It took away from the rest of the book which seemed to be more about the fact that life isn't always fair.

Despite that one minor complaint, I highly recommend this book, especially if you are into historical fiction. Like The Other Boleyn Girl, this story has its roots in history although, I have no doubt, considerable literary license has been taken. Many of the characters a directly from our history books, eg King Stephen and Thomas Beckett, but others, eg Tom Builder and Prior Phillip, are purely from the author's imagination. My complaint is how do I know what is real and what is imagined. But this only causes me to read more.

City Comparison

Each of the cities I have visited in India have been fundamentally different. It has almost felt like I have been visiting different countries. Oh sure, there are some things which have been the same (everyone communicating on the streets with the excessive use of the horn and the overwhelming traffic) but each and every city has made a very different impression on me.

Chennai: The infrastructure of this city has got some serious problems. Everywhere you looked was a construction projects, not just buildings but pipes, roads, homes. The tsunami seriously damaged the area and the rapid growth of the IT industry has meant this city has got to work hard. This was the only city where the power seemed to give out several times during each day, not for long but for a few minutes. There appears to be very few Westerners here. I think I can count the number of white people I saw on my ten fingers. Hands down though, this wins for best hotel and location. Fisherman's Cove and the beach are a wonderful place to relax after a long day although it is far removed from the daily life of your average Indian. I struggled to envision what life is like for the Indian residents of this crumbled city. About 3 out of 5 people wear motorcycle helmets when traveling by motorbike. It is hot and humid, the most humid by far.

Bangalore: I had but one brief opportunity to see this city on one trip into the city centre when I met colleagues for dinner. The centre is very modern and urban. Lots of lights and shopping centres. There are lots of Westerners both in the airport and at the restaurant we ate in. In fact, if I recall correctly every table had a Westerners at it. Maybe that's the restaurant for taking all Westerners. The traffic was the worst here. About 4 out of 5 people wear motorcycle helmets when traveling by motorbike. It was much cooler especially at night than Chennai.

Pune: This city is green and mountainous. More so than any other city I visited. It seems to have a combined urban/rural feel to it. No one wears motorcycle helmets. It was hottest here but no humidity. There were loads of Westerners. The hotel air conditioning had 2 speeds: off and deep freeze. At one point in the night I awoke shivering and turned it off. I woke a few hours later being viciously biten by mozies. The deet came out in force. One of the most disconcerting moments was when waiting for my flight to Mumbai in the Pune airport the electricity went out for more than 5 minutes. OK, that's not really reassuring. Every city (except Mumbai had power outages whilst I was there but at least it didn't happen whilst I was waiting to catch a flight. Eeeeke!

Mumbai: This city clearly has the best infrastructure and the most Westerners, mostly business men appearing to do the same type of work I do. I sat between 2 white men on my flight here and it was nearly all white people in business class on the way home. We encountered very little traffic on the way to the airport although granted I spent the least amount of time here. Oddly, the domestic terminal of the airport is nicer than the international terminal. There are very few motorcycles and it wasn't all that hot. They seem to generally obey the traffic signals here which is a first.

I have numerous mosquito bites, mostly on my feet (think I missed those with the deet spray) and will continue to take my anti-malaria pills for a week. I only had a couple diarrhea incidents (not bad for 1 week, I reckon). I was not involved in any road traffic accidents (the greatest miracle of all). I was not mugged.

I was deeply annoyed by the tipping culture, ie everyone (sometimes up to 3 people at a time) wanted to help me with opening doors, moving my luggage, etc and each and everyone of them expected a tip including employees of the airport/airlines. The greatest expense easily was tipping all these people when in fact I didn't need or want any help. I get the poverty but let's put these people to work on the infrastructure and stop the corruption.

I have expanded my horizons somewhat although to say I saw India would be a mistake. I saw what corporate India wanted me to see: nice hotels, nice taxi cabs, nice offices, nice restaurants. Everywhere I went was clean and air conditioned.

The middle age in me is relieved to be home safely but the adventurer in me yearns to go back and pull off the covers to experience the real India. I want to take my children. I want them to see the world as it is beyond their private school, big home and nintendo/Wii.

I slept like a log in my bed last night. My own sheets, my own pillows, no mosquitoes. It's great to see the world but it is greater to be home with the ones I love and who love me.

The Unexpected

I arrived in Mumbai expecting the worst leg of my journey to be my last one. I'd heard the horror stories of Bombay travel and was not looking forward to the last night before my return journey home.

Boy, was I in for a surprise.

1. The domestic arrivals terminal of the airport is modern. And clean. And huge. The toilet even had toilet paper which no other airport has had. I didn't get hassled to help with my bags (which comes with the requisite expectation of a tip for pushing a trolley which I am quite capable of myself, thank you very much.

2. There was no or very little traffic. I arrived at my hotel within 20 minutes with no traffic jams and no scary driving. My driver only used his horn once.

3. I am staying at the InterContinental which is a humongous hotel. It is beautiful and everyone I have spoken to in the hotel has been very friendly. When my luggage was brought up and I gave the bell boy his tip, it was the first time anyone has ever said thank you or didn't ask for more.

4. The spa managed to get me a massage appointment for 9:30 pm which was divine and set me up perfectly for my return trip home. These massages are such a great bargain. I've paid less than £20 for a 60 minute massage!

5. I have just walked through the largest and most enticing food buffet I have ever laid eyes upon. I resisted the temptation and didn't touch the food but it was definitely a white knuckle moment!

My Indian Safari is drawing to a close and I will be home within the next 24 hours with any luck at all!

Time Zones

Explaining that I am in a country nearly half way around the world is a difficult concept for a child. Add to that the notion of time zones. Well, that's just nearly impossible.

Any ideas on how to explain time zones to children (age 4 & almost 7)?

Airport Security for Women

The whole concept of airport security is done quite differently here in India. They don't care so much about liquids, ie no one has asked to see my little baggy of 100 ml liquids but lighters and matches are still banned unlike in the UK where it is exactly the opposite.

When you enter the airport you checkin luggage is taken from you and scanned. Then given back to you with either a tie around it or a sticker across the zip. You then go to the ticketing counter and hand over the bags.

Then you go through gate security and here in India there is a separate line for airport security for women. I keep forgetting and getting in the wrong line. But the men stare at me and point towards the correct line, so eventually I figure it out. Duh!

The difference is that the queue is shorter. Few women seem to travel. Your carry on luggage must be tagged and once it is screen the tags get stamped. Then there is a curtained off booth which you enter after the metal detector where female security personnel do the body search. And then they stamp your boarding ticket.

Once you are fully stamped up, you are free once again to mingle with the men.

PS The airports are surprisingly small. Only 5-7 gates for departure. They make announcements over the PA when your flight is boarding which is slightly nerve racking because I really have to work hard to understand the accent. Only 2 more airports to go!

Near Catastrophe

I have no photos of Bangalore. At all. The place where I was staying was in the supplier campus and prevents all photography. So I can't prove that I was there except the plane ticket. Since I took an internal flight I can't even show you a stamp in my passport. I could be sitting on the beach in Brighton. But I'm not. It is Thursday so this must be Pune and it is 100 degrees F (40 c).

I am shattered. Yesterday my meetings started at 8:30 and went straight through dinner until 11:00 in the evening. In fact in the taxi drive home I had to announce that I was tired of working and could we please talk about something else, anything else.

I was relieved to get back to the hotel but not looking forward to packing, checking out and the airport tango consisting of queues, loads of people jostling for position, baggage tags, and the crushing fear of someone stealing one of your bags when you’ve turned your back for just a second. The whole rushing to the front of the queue is something I just don't get. I mean we all have to get on the plane so it doesn't really matter if you are at the front of the queue or the back of the queue, plane leaves when we are all seated (with our seat belts securely fastened).

I didn’t sleep well. I rarely do the night before I have to catch an early morning flight. I’m always afraid I am going to oversleep. I woke up every hour and had to turn on the light to check that the alarm clock was still working.

When the alarm went off and I drug myself out of bed and got down to the front desk.

I patiently waited until it was 10 minutes past the expected arrival time of my taxi. I then asked the man at the front desk to ring the taxi and see when it was expected to arrive. He did and then panic set in.

They had no booking for me. I was on the company campus and there was no way to hail a cab. My supplier had taken an earlier morning flight to Hyderabad and besides he’s British so he couldn’t help me. I asked the front desk to ring one of the people I had dinner with last night he was trying to find out what had happened but he was running out of time.

A man (I assume an employee of the supplier) comes out of the hotel and says he is going to the airport and will share a car. There is a wee little car waiting for him. My big suitcase takes up the entire boot. All the other luggage is piled into the back seat which I position myself around. There is no air conditioning so the front windows are open and my hair is flying away whilst I sit in the back seat and try to contain my complete and utter anxiety attack. The roads we take are the back roads and they are dirt. Dust is all over my clothes. At one point I text my husband. He sends through alternative flight times to Pune (he’s a saint and if I ever complain about it remind me of this moment). I text him that I am not entirely sure I am headed to the airport. My mobile then stopped sending texts. I realise I haven't been receiving email since the day before and I am beginning to worry that perhaps I’ve been kidnapped and this was all a sinister plot to keep me from visiting other suppliers.

OK, not really but I am angry. Very angry. I trusted them to make reliable travel arrangements for me. Easy. Simple. Straightforward. If they can’t do that how can they take care of the big things I need them to take care of.

I quite simply don’t deal well with that level of stress particularly when I am working on average of 4 hours sleep/night and have been working non-stop for 3 days. I am travelling to see another supplier. I look like I’ve been camping or sleeping rough. I've got meetings here today and tomorrow then tomorrow evening I'm off to Mumbai for less than 24 hours just to catch a flight home to London.

I am missing home.

I have now arrived in Pune and my two supplier colleagues met me at the airport (seems they were on the same flight which they had caught at its origination point in Chennai. They helped me with my luggage, got my driver who got my car which has air conditioning and is clean!

I am feeling better and am now headed into yet another office for a day of meet and greet. It is going to be an early night.

I Bought a Rug

I never intended on buying a rug. In fact, the thought never even occurred to me.


Between the end of my session and dinner, my driver offered to take me to a shop which he had been going on and on and on about. I thought maybe it was owned by his brother-in-law or something.


The people I am visiting felt it would be a shame if I didn't visit at least one shop to procure a souvenir of my visit to Chennai. And they offered to send someone with me.

So I went shopping. I'm not the biggest shopper in the best of times and the thought of shopping in an Indian market was just a bit intimidating. But hey, what's a little intimidation for motivation?

The shop wasn't a market place at all but a relaxing environment full of beautiful handicrafts and a delicious cinnamon and cardamon tea which shocked and surprised me. After spending quite a long time browsing and registering in the back of my mind those items which would make good gifts for my children, the shop keeper offered me a seat and a cup of tea and started bringing out the most beautiful rugs you have ever seen.

And it was all down hill from there. The rugs are woven hung vertically (didn't know it mattered til then), hand dyed, hand woven, hand tied and certified to be free from the use of child labour (oh go, I hope so!). This is a seriously manual process which results in the most glorious rug you have ever felt under your feet.

And it changes colour. As you move in relationship to the rug the colour of it changes....you gotta see it to believe. It's a magic carpet! My very own magic carpet. I haggled with a little help from my escort. I haggled hard. I surprised myself a bit. I got a good deal, a very good deal!

Right, I've landed in Bangalore, very different from Chennai. Many more Westerners, more urban, although it was 10:30 pm when we were driving through the city, and no beach. Had a most unpleasant experience at the security gate of the complex last night that I must sort out. More details to follow!

Bump in the Night

The jet lag here is quite the opposite I'm used to. I was up reading until well past midnight and didn't feel remotely sleepy. Of course, this could be due to more than just jet lag.

The village down the beach is having a festival. This means loud music so everyone can hear. Until 1 am. And fireworks until 1 am, which sort of drowned out the music.

When I finally did feel my eyelids start to droop I turned off the light and cuddled down into the duvet. Then I heard the closet doors rattle. I was afraid someone had sneaked into my room and was hiding in the closet. I lay paralyzed with fear until I decided that was ridiculous.

I turned on the lights to find the biggest creepy crawly ascending the wall opposite the doors. Remember this thing was big enough to make the closet doors rattle. Panic set in. I called for Marc. He wasn't here.

I picked up the phone book, walked over to the wall (checking my foot placement to avoid other creepy crawlies), and nailed it with the phone book.

Bug now well and truly dead lying on its back on the floor. I couldn't get to sleep for fear of more bugs. Reminds of the time I found a large iguana in my hotel room in Cancun, Mexico. But that's another story!

Guest is God

I spent the morning trying to catch up on my sleep and then moved into my Garden Suite which also has a sea view as you can see. I couldn’t wait to get myself down to the beach and spent several hours sitting on the chair, listening to the waves and the birds sing the songs of rest and relaxation. At least that’s what it sounded like to me.

One of the first things I did this morning was book an hour massage in the Spa. I have a serious spa addiction. It is difficult to travel and a nice spa treatment can fix all the knots caused by carrying luggage and endless queuing, not to mention less than flat beds on the airplane.

I don’t need perfume. I have a garland of fresh jasmine around my neck and it is undoubtedly the most intoxicating smell. And this garland was just the icing on the cake.

I was greeted with a divine cup of lemony honey mint tea which strictly speaking is not on my diet. I choose to overlook that minor point and drank it like a good girl.

I started with 5 minutes in the steam room. Coming in from the sweltering heat and humidity of April in Chennai I didn’t think I could get any hotter or sweatier. I was wrong. I nearly bolted before the 5 minutes was up but I stuck it out like a trooper telling myself that if I could give up food for 50 days I could sit here. As long as I didn’t pass out. I breathed a sigh of relief when she came for me.

She pointed me to the showers and gave me a lovely robe and those gorgeous disposable panties. You men won’t have a clue what I’m talking about but I have to ask who do they think those fit? Even with my recent weight loss I could barely get them on.

The massage started with the massage therapist (is that what you call them here?) telling me that here at Fisherman’s Cove the “Guest is God” and we wash the feet of God. Sounds good to me. My feet soaked in warm water filled with floating flower petals as she massaged and then dried them. Near as I could tell that was enough for my money’s worth.

But it was only the beginning of heaven. She had numerous clay bowls filled with various unrecognizable powders and potions which during the next 60 minutes she mixed and rubbed on my back, neck and shoulders. She gave me a massage like I’ve never had including my head.

I reluctantly got my feet back on the ground and returned to reception looking a bit dozey. She marked my forehead with a brown dot of something or other and put 2 grains of rice in the middle of it and placed my fragrant garland over my head.

The last thing I wanted to do was leave this sanctuary of bliss. This was worth the airport hassle and the 10 hour flight anyday!

India First Impressions

• Holy crap, everyone drives like crazy maniacs. Some roads have lines. Some don't. Doesn't matter. They don't pay any attention to the lines. Even when the traffic is coming at you from the opposite direction. And red lights at traffic signals appear to be merely decoration.


• These people never sleep. I arrived at the airport at 4 am on Sunday morning and the airport was packed by western standards anyway. And on the way to the hotel there were loads of people walking. The driver said they were going to church. At that hour of the morning? I'm not sure God is awake. And they don't walk on the sidewalks. Even when there are sidewalks they walk in the street.


• The humidity is stifling.


• The smells are equally intoxicating and revolting. One minute you'd get this amazing whiff of what I am sure was delicious food and the next minute the smell of raw sewage was causing me to gag.


• Shoes appear to be optional.


• The diet is going to be difficult to stick to. I am so tempted by the dining menu!


• The effects of the 26 December 2004 tsunami are still evident. Refugees are still in residence in numerous camps and the landscape has been permanently damaged. Over 691,000 people were affected and nearly 8,000 people died in this area. Nearly 5,500 cattle were also lost. Many are still living in what appears to be horrific conditions.


• Boy these people can talk. I don't think the taxi driver stopped talking for the entire 30 minute journey. I could understand only about every 10th word but that didn't seem to put him off.


• There really are cows in the middle of the road. Lots of cows.
• This is going to be an adventure. I am headed to the beach!

Flying British Airways

There was no small amount of panic when I realised I had little option but to fly with British Airways to India. Unless you have living in a cave you will have heard about the recent traumatic opening of Terminal 5. I was relieved to learn I did not have to brave the chaos of T5 but BA is a challenge in itself.


I got my boarding pass online so check in was a breeze but then the trouble started. The lounge at Gate 10 was closed so I would need to use the lounge at Gate 1. Not too bad you might think, at least there is a lounge. that would be true except my flight was scheduled to depart from Gate 22 which is at least a 30 minute walk from Gate 1. With no moving sidewalks, well, none that work anyway!


I waited in the lounge waiting for my boarding call which I had been told would could about 12:40 for a 13:30 flight. At 12:55 they still hadn't called the flight so I decided not to take any chances and head down there. After walking for ages past non-functioning electric sidewalks I arrived at the gate with all the other passengers (100s of them). I found a seat and waited. Finally at 13:25 they announced that there was a slight (?) delay and they would start boarding in 10 minutes.

And they planned to leave just 10 minutes late. OK, so I knew that was never going to happen. Why can't BA treat their passengers like adults and give us the cold harsh reality? Well, no sense worrying about it. I can't change it. And at least I wasn't in T5!

Air Canada gets my vote for the superior First Class cabin (at least on the flight to Toronto). BA advertises their first class seats as flat beds. Let me tell you if those are flat beds then the world is flat as well.

I didn't sleep well. Some of that is due to the extreme anxiety in the pit of my belly. I wonder what awaits me.

Admin

OK, so I'm off into the big bad world again but just before I go a couple of notices:

1. Patrick Gale is signing copies of Notes from an Exhibition at the Windsor Waterstone's on 23 April at 7 pm. Tickets are £3 and can be booked on 01753 856456. We read this in my book group and loved it. If you are local head down there!
2. Toasters Don't Roast Chickens is a book by a local mum, Melanie Gow. her children attend the same school as my children. She has written an inspiring book about treating her sons numerous illnesses with everything she could find. I haven't read it yet but I have spoken to others who have and they say it is fabulous. She is having a book signing at Waterstone's Windsor on 26 April at 11:30-1:30. No tickets are required for this one. Even if you can' make the book singing I think you should get a copy of the book!

I'm off to India this morning: 4 cities, 3 suppliers, 7 days and countless opportunities for it all to go horribly wrong! Everyone is expressing concerns about my well being. How come before I was a wife and mother no one cared this much? I'll be fine! And I hope to keep you all posted right here.

Stay tuned!

Great Britain is Repossessing the USA

To: The citizens of the United States of America:

In light of your failure to nominate competent candidates for President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective immediately.

Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths, and territories (except Kansas which she does not fancy).

Our new prime minister, Gordon Brown, will appoint a governor for America without the need for further elections.

Congress and the Senate will be disbanded.

A questionnaire may be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed.

To aid in the transition to a British Crown Dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect:

You should look up "revocation" in the Oxford English Dictionary.

1. Then look up aluminium, and check the pronunciation guide. You will be amazed at just how wrongly you have been pronouncing it.

2. The letter 'U' will be reinstated in words such as 'favour' and 'neighbour.' Likewise, you will learn to spell 'doughnut' without skipping half the letters and the suffix -ize will be replaced by the suffix -ise.

Generally, you will be expected to raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. (Look up 'vocabulary').

3. Using the same twenty-seven words interspersed with filler noises such as "like" and "you know" is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication.

There is no such thing as US English. We will let Microsoft know on your behalf. The Microsoft spell- checker will be adjusted to take account of the reinstated letter 'u' and the elimination of -ize. You will relearn your original national anthem, God Save the Queen.

4. July 4th will no longer be celebrated as a holiday.

5. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers, or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you're not adult enough to be independent.

Guns should only be handled by adults. If you're not adult enough to sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist then you're not grown up enough to handle a gun.

6. Therefore, you will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous than a vegetable peeler. A permit will be required if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.

7. All American cars are hereby banned. They are crap and this is for your own good. When we show you German cars, you will understand what we mean. Holden Monaros are also approved.

8. All intersections will be replaced with roundabouts, and you will start driving on the left with immediate effect. At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables.

Both roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.

9. The Former USA will adopt UK prices on petrol (which you have been calling gasoline)-roughly $8/US gallon. Get used to it.

10. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French fries are not real chips, and those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called crisps. Real chips are thick cut, fried in animal fat, and dressed not with ktechup but with vinegar.

11. The cold tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all. Henceforth, only proper British Bitter will be referred to as beer, and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as Lager.

South African beer is also acceptable as they are pound for pound the greatest sporting Nation on earth and it can only be due to the beer. They are also part of British Commonwealth - see what it did for them.

American brands will be referred to as Near-Frozen Gnat's Urine, so that all can be sold without risk of further confusion.

12. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as good guys. Hollywood will also be required to cast English actors to play English characters. Watching Andie Macdowell attempt English dialogue in Four Weddings and a Funeral was an experience akin to having one's ears removed with a cheese grater.

13. You will cease playing American football. There is only one kind of proper football; you call it soccer. Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which has some similarities to American football, but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full Kevlar body armour like a bunch of nancies). Don't try Rugby - the South Africans and Kiwis will thrash you, like they regularly thrash us.

14. Further, you will stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called the World Series for a game which is not played outside of America . Since only 2.1% of you are aware that there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable. You will learn cricket, and we will let you face the South Africans first to take the sting out of their deliveries.

15. You must tell us who killed JFK. It's been driving us mad.

16. An internal revenue agent (i.e. tax collector) from Her Majesty's Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all monies due (backdated to 1776).

17. Daily Tea Time begins promptly at 4 pm with proper cups, never mugs, with high quality biscuits (cookies) and cakes; strawberries in season.

*God Save the Queen.*

Only He can.

John Cleese

Editors Note: I am working to get the baseball thing reversed. And thanks to Clare Bear for sending this to me. I am still laughing!

Vaccinations

I am fairly well travelled. Well, I used to be before I had children as they sometimes cramp your style (and make the carefree life of travel to exotic locations very very very stressful). I've spent Carnival in Bahia, Northern Brazil and the millennium celebrations in Port Elizabeth, South Africa. I've been mugged in Seoul, South Korea (3 times) and got lost in Brussels (very very very drunk) with my sister.

OK, that last one didn't require vaccinations but the others did. Alas, it has been 8 years since my last course of vaccinations and some vaccinations I've never had, eg rabies. I needed some boosters.

In preparation for my trip to India I had to journey into the centre of London yesterday afternoon and spend an inordinate amount of time being poked and prodded. My aim was to obtain my Fit to Travel Certificate which would mean that I was covered under the company insurance scheme but I got far more than I bargained for(besides a very sore arm).

I watched as the nurse unloaded a bag full of goodies:

• One Tummy Kit: full of stuff to treat diarrhea and all those symptoms associated with eating dodgy food and unclean water
• One Medicine Kit: full of pills to treat most aches, pains, burns, scraps, cuts, including paracetamol, bacterial cream, hydro cortisone, travel sickness pills, antibiotics and even codeine. Cool!
• One Minor Operation Kit: I'm not kidding! In addition to band aids and gauze and burn covers and bandages and tape there is a pair of scissors, a suture kit, needles (of various sizes, of course) and syringes, a venflo just in case I need to give myself an IV, oh and I mustn't forget the scalpel.

I feel like a mobile Medicins San Frontieres.

Now, could someone please explain to me why I have never had to have any of this before? Even when I travelled for business? OK, so I had a bodyguard in Korea for a while but I certainly never had a scalpel.

There is an upside to this. I also have an International SOS card and a Blood card. The blood card means that if anything happens to me they will fly in blood especially for me all the way from Geneva. I wonder what is wrong with the blood from India. The International SOS card means that if something happens I call the emergency number and they send a helicopter for me. Now I'm thinking this could come in handy if I'm running short of time for shopping. I don't suppose that would classify as an emergency for some but others could give a pretty persuasive argument.

Finally, Niagara Photos

After some mild (ok, not that mild at all) panic, I have recovered my photos from the Niagara trip and share them with you here. We are lucky to have them!

Lounge Review

The executive lounge at Toronto Pearson Airport for Air Canada (aka Maple Lounge) wins my vote for the best airport lounge. Ever.

The chairs are comfortable. And I tried out a couple of them. Just thought I would walk around and give them all a go.

There is free WiFi and desks with telephones and desk lamps and rubbish bins.

There are showers although I did check them out personally but lots of others seem to.

The food buffet is a selection of fresh vegetables and fruit with some gorgeous breads, cheese, spreads and dips. Usually you get some stale donuts and individually wrapped carb rubbish. Alas, I looked and smelled but did not touch except to wrap up a couple of the homemade cookies to take home to my children.

There is a vast array of drinks to choose from including over 7 different teas, 5 different coffees, 12 different fruit juices, waters, sodas, and even alcoholic beverages. I've had 2 cups of tea which will probably be just about enough caffeine for me as I appear to be typing at the speed of light.

My only complaint would be the other passengers. There is a man on my right who is eating with his mouth open. Every bite he takes greets me with some lip smacking to end all lip smacking. On my left is a man who appears to be older than god and he has been sniffing his nose for at least 20 minutes straight. I want to tell him to either blow it or get over it because if he ain't dislodged it by now it ain't going anywhere!

It's now time to board the plane and head home. I missed home and will be happy to be back!

The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory

Everyone was doing it. So I decided I would do it. No, not that. Everyone was reading or had read The Other Boleyn Girl. Plus there was a movie coming out with 2 of my favourite actresses and I never want to see a movie before I've read the book.

I initially resisted because I've often thought that Philippa Gregory is a bit of bodice ripping, heavy breathing romance type novelist. And I don't generally go for that type of novel. Plus it was long (529 pages) with really tiny print. Hmmmm, I thought, that's a bit odd for that genre. Maybe I got this wrong. It has happened before. not often but once or twice.


I love historical fiction. Now if somebody had told me that was what this was all about I would have read it ages ago. I thoroughly enjoyed this novel set in the court of King Henry VIII as he is becoming dissatisfied by Katherine of Aragon's failure of produce a male heir to his throne, which, let's face it, used to be the only thing a queen was good for.

King Henry VIII apparently took a fancy to a young lady in the Queen's court, Mary, who was Anne's sister. The fact that Mary was only 14 and already married did not appear to bother the king in the slightest. Mary went on to bear 2 children and it was during her second pregnancy that King Henry decided he fancied Anne Boleyn. And the rest is history, as we say.

I did some research after I finished the book in an attempt to separate the fact from the fiction. It appears that they know very little for fact and much of what is contained in the book has actually been confirmed as historically accurate.

Which is a good thing because I found the book to be absolutely fascinating. The detail about life in the court and how you got there and how you stayed there and how you were disgraced and banished (or beheaded) is incredible. I loved the way these distant yet historical figures were brought to life not in the context of history but as human beings with dreams and disappointments. The women had numerous miscarriages and there is quite an interesting approach to cleanliness. I could imagine the dresses they wore based on the exquisite descriptions and I could even taste the food and wine.

The portrait painted of Katherine of Aragon is very complimentary and I am afraid that Anne is not portrayed in such a manner. She is shown to be power hungry and selfish slowly losing her grip on reality as she looses her grip on the king. Whilst everyone at court is manipulative, Anne is shown to be more than her fair share. The fact that Anne was the mother of Queen Elizabeth I, arguably one of the finest monarch in British history is an astonishing fact, especially when you consider she had to unseat Mary, Queen of Scots, daughter of Katherine of Aragon. The argument must have been thin considering Henry used the same argument to sentence her to death that he used to divorce Katherine.

Ultimately, Anne is beheaded. And Henry marries again. And again. And again. And again. But we knew that. What we didn't know was that Mary, Anne's sister went on to marry a man (after the one she was married to dies) she loved and died in relative obscurity and inheriting all the families wealth when her parents died quite early, finding true happiness at last.

Maybe we need to rewrite the fairy tales to show that marrying Prince Charming isn't all it might be cracked up to be. But I do highly recommend this book especially if you enjoy reading about Kings and Queens and the such.

Pages: LOTS! I don't have the book in front of me so I'm not exactly sure but I think it is about 800 or so.

Caring with Food

Most cultures around the world use food to show they care. This is probably somehow related to Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. The most fundamental of these needs is the physiological needs which includes food.

I show my children, husband, friends, and family that I care for them by making nutritious and delicious meals for them. My children show me they love me by giving me chocolate (except when I'm on a diet). I make dinner for friends which shows them I care enough to make an effort.

Whilst here in Toronto we have been entertained and taken out for dinner every night by our Canadian colleagues. We are building working relationships and we are doing this by eating together.

I think they are finding it very odd that I go out to a restaurant with them and sit with them and talk to them but eat nothing and drink only water and green tea. Or sit on my hands as they devour scrumptious sandwiches and salads for lunch. Heck, I'm finding it very hard.

Last night I sat and watched the group around me eat mushroom risotto, rib eye steak, and caribou. Don't even get me started on the desserts.

Everyone seems fairly convinced that I can't live on water and green tea and yet I persists. I hope I haven't insulted anyone and no one is offended by my lack of participation in the metaphorical breaking of the bread. I was there in spirit. I hope that counts.

Besides I've invited them all to the UK after June 8 and promised them some gastronomic delights and more than a few bottles of wine.

Things Tourists Do

Can you believe I've never ever seen Niagara Falls? How can you travel as much as I have and not have seen one of the Wonders of the World when it is in your own country? OK, so it is a big country but I consider this to be a major oversight.


One would assume that given I was coming to Toronto, I would think gee, maybe I oughta pop over and see Niagara. But no. It takes some cleaver colleague to come up with the bright idea. At which point I slap my forehead and think doh, why didn't I think of that.

So yesterday at the crack of dawn, (which isn't really a problem since when consumed with jet lag in this direction I'm up before the crack of dawn) we head off in one rental car, a map (and I use that term loosely), and a rough idea which direction we might find the falls. I just didn't think we would miss it. I mean, it's gonna be sign posted right?

So a little over an hour and 1/2 later (after a couple wee breaks given my water consumption) we know we are close. We are following the signs looking for parking (like obedient tourists). I'm wondering how far of a walk from the parking we will need to take since it is freezing cold. I'm thinking a couple miles and I'm really glad I brought my scarf and glove but I'm thinking the last minute decision to leave behind my hat was a bad one.

We can hear the water but can't see the water. We round a bend in the road and I nearly drive the car off the road as I let go of the steering wheel and turn my body 45 degrees. My mouth drops open wide enough to drive a bus into.

There in front of us is the biggest, most beautiful waterfalls I have ever seen in my life. The trees and walkway railings are covered in ice which has frozen from the mist.

It is early on a Sunday morning and there are very few tourists around. We've got the place to ourselves nearly.

We got soaked from the mist as we walk from the Horseshoe Falls and down past the falls that are on the USA side. It is cold but I have to say, you get a much better view from the Canadian side. When I return home I'll get those photos loaded up pronto!

After spending a few hours gawking at the beauty we took a scenic route back to Toronto and I stopped off at a food court so my colleagues could grab a bite to eat. As they sat devouring their Wendy's burgers and fried, I drank water and lusted after a Taco Bell bean burrito. Yeah, I know, if you're going to break the diet do it big but don't do it with Taco Bell! But my willpower kept me going and I resisted the temptation. Today is Day 30. Only 70 more to go. that sounded good in my head but it now seems a long way off! I don't have a scale in my room so I can't weigh myself every day religiously like I had been doing which some say might be a good thing.

After getting freshened up after we returned to the hotel, a couple colleagues went to the basketball game but I am sure I made a better decision. We checked out The Second City Comedy Club last night. I've always wanted to go there. It is the famous haunt of John Candy, John Belushi and Gilda Radner (to name just a few comedic greats). We saw an amazing troupe put on an hilarious show. I laughed so hard tears were running down my cheeks and my sides ached from laughing for about 2.5 hours solid. I won't even attempt to describe it here. Somehow I feel the humour will have all gone out of it.

TOP TIP: If you ever come to Toronto make the comedy club a must see!

Airport Aerobics

I swear someone (or group of someones) are sitting in a small room somewhere laughing their asses off each time they watch travellers go trough the crazy stuff they keep thinking up for us to do at airports. We are like circus animals.

We used to be able to carry on two bags. Then it became 1 bag which was nothing short of disaster for women who have to carry a handbag and a laptop. Now we are back to two bags. Thank goodness that nonsense is over.

It has also been decided by these buggy eyed someones that we no longer need to unpack our laptops to send them through the xray machines. Not sure what that was all about.

We still have to put all of our liquids into little tiny bottles and then into a separate plastic bag.

And today a new exercise has been introduced. After sending your carry ons through xray and going through the metal detector yourself we went through yet ANOTHER blommin' passport control and then we had to take off our shoes (whilst walking) and put them on yet another xray machine. Then put our shoes back on whilst continuing to walk. Just in case we didn't keep walking there was a woman behind a rope yelling at us to keep walking. Some poor older lady nearly fell over.

I am, however, very impressed with the advance of technology. I sit here in the airport terminal with my fancy spancy new wee ditty laptop using the airport WiFi bringing all the latest news to you as it happens. How cool it that? OK, I know I am a techy geek by some standards but not according to others.

If you have heard the recent news of the debacle that is the Grand Opening of Heathrow's Terminal 5, you will be relieved to know that I am not flying on British Airways. If you haven't heard, read the latest here.

I flying out Air Canada which I've never ever flown before so look for a review tomorrow. Won't be able to tell you much about the food since I'm not eating but I hope that since I'm in the Executive First Class it should be good. Those seats go flat and you get a duvet and pillow so whilst I can't eat, I can sleep!

Airports are the best people watching place. Well, Heathrow airport is anyway. The diversity of the travellers is always shocking. Every size, shape, age, class, colour, hue can be found struggling with their luggage and searching out their departure gate. Someone people read, someone people visit, some people drink, other people just watch other people watching other people.

Gotta run or the plane might leave without me.....ha, not a chance! Speak to you from the other side.

Travel Advisory

With my recent irregular posting, you would be forgiven if you didn't notice but just in case you wonder where I am over the next few days I thought I would let you know.

I'll be in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, that large frozen mass of land to the north of the USA. I've been to Canada on a couple of previous occasions, eg Vancouver, Quebec, Banff. I've even been to Toronto before. Can't say I found it all that interesting. In fact, it would be safe to say I found it downright dull.

Am hoping to be impressed this time round. It's all in the name of work and I suspect I'll be a bit too busy to do anything which offers up much opportunity for changing my views but I go into this with an open mind.

I fly out Saturday afternoon and back late Wednesday night arriving mid morning on Thursday. Give Marc your moral support. He's gonna need it.

McDonald's

We are not a prepared, processed food household. Very nearly every night I prepare our family meals from whole foods using in season vegetables although I do keep a stash of frozen veg in the freezer. And I must confess to using tinned (aka canned) sweet corn and green beans.

We do not have dessert (pudding) unless we have guests round for dinner.

We are not a fast food household. We may once/month indulge in McDonald's or pop into Pizza Hut for a treat after a trip to the cinema every six months or so.

My diet has upset the normal rhythm of the house though. Marc, like many men I know, is wholly incapable of preparing a meal consisting of more than one dish in under 1 hour and will never ever get it all on the table at the same time piping hot. He has tried on numerous occasions and failed just as many.

Marc doesn't really get the whole 5/day rule. It is not unusual for him to prepare a meal with absolutely not a single vegetable on offer.

Marc wholeheartedly believes that a quart of ice cream is dessert. Every night.

Because my loving, supportive (albeit culinary challenged) husband has agreed to prepare every meal for our children during my weight loss challenge, I have decided to let it go and just put it up to the universe. If I can eat nothing for 100 days then my children will certainly survive the gastro adventure that is their father's meal preparation philosophy.

I have taken it upon myself to prepare weekly menus for the next 10 weeks. I have taken extra care to ensure that nothing is especially challenging. All meals are fairly well balanced and should take under 40 minutes to prepare - start to finish. He can choose to use these menus or feel free to veer off course.

I have also prepared corresponding grocery lists. They contain all the items he will need to purchase before the week begins in order to prepare the food for that week's menu. It takes into consideration the contents of the cupboards, freezer, etc. This works unless he veers off course.

Which has led me to my white knuckle moment. Tonight Marc decide to veer off course and get the children and himself dinner from McDonald's. Have you ever smelled a hamburger and french fries right under your own roof and not been able to partake in the debauchery?

My knees buckled and I was salivating. I wanted to rip my children's greasy messes right out of their hands and gobble the calorific mountains in 2 second flat. Heck, I reckon I could eaten it all in under a second.

Sheer torture. I am now contemplating enforcing the meal plan. Not sure how I would manage that but I am plotting my revenge.