The singularly most important thing that happened last week: Raffles successfully wore a hat. Show-off.
I’m writing this from the cafe downstairs because that’s what real writers do, isn’t it? Though I doubt many of Hemingway’s tours de force were penned to a soundtrack of insipid a cappella renderings of ‘What Makes You Beautiful,’ ‘Teenage Dream,’ and, somewhat incongruously, ‘Would I Lie To You?’ More’s the pity, eh. Anyway, let’s not beat about the bush. Here’s a list of seven things I learned in the past week:
1. I think I quite like this blogging malarkey, you know. I’d be very interested to hear other people’s reasons for starting their blogs. Mine was quite simply a way of impelling myself to write on an everyday basis. Even though I haven’t quite managed to fulfill my daily obligations (my irascible scamp of a daughter is determined that I won’t hold a pen, or any digital equivalents, until after she’s left home), I am writing more than I have in years and, do you know, it’s bloody enjoyable.
2. It’s THE BIGGEST BUZZ to receive positive feedback on something you’ve written. I think I can understand why fame goes to some people’s heads. I’m about five plauditory comments away from never making my own tea again; ten more and I’m hiring my own personal hair brusher (Dome Polisher, if this postpartum hair loss continues unabated). Fortunately, Her Upstairs is distinctly unimpressed by even the tiniest act of showy pomposity and will undoubtedly propel me earthwards if I exhibit the first sign of getting too big for my boots. Spoilsport.
3. I have a very unbecoming jealous streak. How do I know this? One word: Blogfest. I hadn’t even heard of it until a few weeks ago and yet I spent a not inconsiderable amount of Saturday bristling that I wasn’t there. Me, who only started blogging just over a month ago. I swear these boots are starting to pinch…(Shoutout to my #notatblogfest buddies – a fine time was had by all).
4. The Queen of Sheba (from hereon in, I’ll just call her Raffles, she’s confused enough as it is) has a beautifully hat-friendly head. I must admit I did breathe a sigh of relief when I saw that she looks just dandy with her head covered. You wouldn’t think it to look at me (at least I don’t think you would. Oh God, maybe you would. Could it be that everyone I’ve ever met has been so disinclined to stray outside the confines of basic common decency that they’ve neglected to mention my freakishly misshapen bonce?) but I have quite a generous-sized head. Hats that aren’t supposed to perch, perch. So unfair. Anyway, at least Raffles has been spared a similar fate. Small mercies.
5. It’s not as horrific as you’d imagine when someone dribbles clean into your mouth or projectile vomits all over your head. I say ‘someone’, clearly I only mean my daughter. If anyone else did either of these things, so convulsed with rage I’d be that I’d literally never recover my bearings. With Raffles, though, it’s somehow okay. Cute, even.
6. There are no depths of trashy television to which I won’t plummet. Ladies of London is the latest addition to this role of dishonour. If you’re looking for an inspirational portrayal of fabolous female friendship then, move along sister, you won’t find that here. If, on the other hand, catfights, bitchiness and depressingly savage competitiveness are more your bag then, pull up a pew. Though remember, I’m only watching it so you don’t have to. And because I’m ill.
7. I’ll mutter this last one under my breath in the hope it goes unnoticed: that penguin, you know the one, left me decidedly unmoved. This, however. An actual deluge.
Have a good week! x
Not Your Average Baby 