A Curious Girl's Guide to Life

Celebrities and dirty laundry on Twitter: why?

2012-01-04T15:53:00.000Z

My mum asked a question that stumped me. I was telling her about the spat that Christine Bleakley had with her footballer fiance's ex fiancee, and she said: "why do celebrities divulge so much in public on Twitter?"

Why indeed?

It may only have been a half-hearted argument, but Bleakley's response spoke volumes about how she and smug Frank Lampard regard Elen Rivas, the mother of his two daughters.

Apparently Elen had tweeted about her frustration when, on holiday in India over Christmas, she rang the Lampard abode to speak to her daughters, Frank and Christine having custody of them for the holiday period.

When she couldn't speak to them she then vented her frustration on Twitter, saying she would have expected "the girlfriend" to be a bit more understanding.

"The girlfriend" - former golden girl TV presenter Bleakley, who was recently sacked from Daybreak, responded with the ultimate in sanctimonious tweets - something about not debating in public "where children are involved."

But she then preceded to retweet several supportive and aghast messages from her friends. One of them said "is she up to her old tricks?" which suggested that Elen's behaviour has been a topic for discussion for Bleakley and her pals.

It the transpired, from the Bleakley camp, that Elen had rung in the middle of the night UK-time. The inference was she was too stupid to realise. Well, we can't all be members of Mensa (smug Frank, the oxymoron "brainy footballer").

I personally felt myself sympathising for Elen. Not only did she have a lonely Christmas without her kids., she had to put up with retweets from the Bleakley Supporters' Club when a bit of dignity (or silence) might have been better.

Another grieving ex on holiday alone over Christmas was Demi Moore. Her marriage, and its demise, was lived on Twitter. The end of the Russell Brand / Katy Perry marriage was also played out on Twitter for our delectation.

I do wonder why. Aren't the paraparazzi and the hacked phones enough to keep a celebrity in the public eye, without having to wash their own dirty linen?

All I expect from a celebrity on Twitter are slices of wit or insight. Not boring tweets about the mundanities of life (we do that ourselves) and not undignified rants or fallings out.

A Few Wee Predictions for 2012: A Baker's Dozen

2011-12-31T12:50:00.000Z

It's as predictable as the papers and broadcasters running reviews of the year. Or magazines publishing detox diets on Jan 1 and binini diets in May. Yes, it's papers and broadcasters running their predictions for the New Year.

Here are mine:

1) The Olympics will take place in London (what? You didn't know?)

2) There will be a kerfuffle about: tickets / someone missing their race because of public transport / the Danny Boyle opening ceremony divides the nation / why didn't we win more medals on home turf / did Boris make a fool of himself, and, last but not least, phew! A big success!

3) The Vulcan bomber returns to the flypast for the Queen's diamond jubilee (Concorde would be even better)
4) Everyone gets fed up with reading / watching Charles Dickens
5) Jennifer Aniston splits up with Louis Theroux (oops, wrong Theroux)
6) Kate and William anounce baby news near the end of the year
7) Kate Moss parts company with latest husband
8) Spurs win the Premiership (COYS!)
9) UK bounces back with economic growth of a full 1% !!
10) John Galliano pops up somewhere with a high profile new job (well if Gerald Ronson can get a New year's Honour......)
And in the vein of (8), wild optimism outweighing likely reality:
11) UK wins the EUROVISION SONG CONTEST!!
12) David Bowie makes triumphant comeback (yay!)
13) More baby news, this time for Mr and Mrs Panda of Edinburgh Zoo

David Bowie gift wrapped for you this Christmas

2011-12-24T10:40:00.000Z

Apart from the scourge of Christmas songs we don't want to hear ("Stop the Cavalry" and "Mistletoe & Wine" in my case) this is a fantastic time of the year. The long holiday always feels well deserved after a hard year. So put your feet up, put a paper hat on your head and enjoy a big scooner of sherry.

My Christmas gift to you all is the remarkable footage found by a BBC cameraman of David Bowie and the Spiders from Mars in 1973 on Top of the Pops.

The BBC wiped all their tapes routinely, to save money. So much of the TOTPs archive was lost. Miraculously, a cameraman recorded this footage for himself, and recently found it in his attic. Marvel at how wonderful the band is. Playing live, with no backing tracks. Amazing. No wonder I lost my heart to Mr Bowie when I was just 11 after seeing his mesmerising performance of Starman on TOTPs.

Christmas Traditions: Part Two

2011-12-20T13:48:00.000Z

Buche de Noel

Yesterday we looked at the origins of some of our Christmas traditions. Today we look at how our European neighbours celebrate. Christmas Eve is often the big day.

In Finland, Christmas Eve is the traditional time to set up the Christmas tree and it's also traditional to visit the sauna and for families to listen to a broadcast of the national 'Peace of Christmas' on the radio. Christmas Dinner generally consists of a main dish of boiled codfish that is snowy and fluffy in appearance, served with cream sauce and boiled potatoes.

Christmas in France is called Noel, from the phrase 'les bonnes nouvelles,' or 'the good news,' which refers to the gospel. On Christmas Eve, cathedrals and churches are beautifully lit and filled with the sounds of Christmas carols, ringing church bells and carillons. The tradition among children is to put their shoes by the fireplace for Pere Noel or le petit Jesus to fill them with gifts. In northern France, as I mentioned yesterday, St Nicholas brings presents on December 6.

Most French homes will have a Nativity scene on display during the season. In Southern France, some people will burn a log in their home from Christmas Eve until New Years Day, which comes out of a farming tradition of using the log for good luck in the coming harvest.

The French also make a traditional cake called the buche de Noel, or Christmas Log, shaped like a Yule log. It is part of a late supper called le reveillon held after Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve.

In Germany everything gets going on December 6. It's often the day when spiced cakes and cookies are baked - "Lebkuchen", and gifts and decorations made. Little dolls of fruit are traditional Christmas toys. Germans also make beautiful gingerbread houses.

December 6 is Nikolaustag, St. Claus day. A shoe or boot is left outside the door on Dec.5 and the next morning you find presents (if you were a good) or a rod (if you were bad). (Does anyone ever get given a rod?!).

The Christmas Eve dinner menu in Germany traditionally comprises of dishes such as suckling pig, white sausage, macaroni salad, "reisbrei" (a sweet cinnamon) and many regional dishes. Some people will feast on carp. The Christmas Eve is popularly called here as "Dickbauch" (meaning "fat stomach") because of the myth that those who do not eat well on Christmas Eve will be haunted by demons during the night. So everyone tries to stuff their belly to the fullest on this day.

The feasting continues on Christmas Day with a banquet being held on this day. Traditional Christmas dishes consist of plump roast goose, "Christstollen" (long bread loaves stuffed with nuts, raisins, citron and dried fruit), "Lebkuchen" (spice bars), marzipan, and "Dresden Stollen" ( a moist, heavy bread filled with fruit). And, strange but true: it's a German tradition to watch a short subtitled British film called "Dinner for Two." It's hardly known over here. But the Germans find it hilarious.

Frankfurt Christnmas market

Here in the UK, it's traditional to go to church at midnight on Christmas Eve. On Christmas Day, presents are opened around the tree either in the morning, or, if you're the royal family, at supper time. Lunch is roast turkey with all the trimmings followed by Christmas pudding with rum butter or clotted cream. Family games are played in the afternoon, or maybe a bracing walk taken. A few hours later the feasting resumes with cold turkey sandwiches, cheeses, pork pie, mince pies and trifle.

Christmas Traditions: Part One

2011-12-19T14:23:00.000Z

Since I started this blog in 2006, I've written quite a few posts about Christmas. There was the one about my own family's traditions, the First World War Christmas Day football match, quite a few about Christmas TV and politicians' messages, but nothing, I noted, about the origins of Christmas. Why do we have Boxing Day? Why do we set fire to a Christmas pudding? Without further ado, here is the first in a two-part posting, the Curious round-up of why we do some of the things we do.

Setting fire to the Christmas pudding

Before Christianity and when we were all pagans, there were winter festivals around this time and the Festival of Fire was common. Our tradition of igniting the Christmas pudding hark back to those times.

Christmas stockings
According to legend, a kindly nobleman grew despondent over the death of his beloved wife and foolishly squandered his fortune. This left his three young daughters without dowries and thus facing a life of spinsterhood.

The generous St. Nicholas, hearing of the girls' plight, set forth to help. Wishing to remain anonymous, he rode his white horse by the nobleman's house and threw three small pouches of gold coins down the chimney where they were fortuitously captured by the stockings the young women had hung by the fireplace to dry.

St Nicholas in the 4th century was the original "Santa Claus". Our image of the jovial white bearded gentleman in red is courtesy of Coca Cola and their ads in the 1930s. But the origin of Santa Claus began with Saint Nicholas, Bishop of Myra, an area in present day Turkey. By all accounts St. Nicholas was a generous man, particularly devoted to children. When I was in Poland recently, staff were being given gifts on December 6. In many European countries this is the day when St Nicholas delivers sweets and toys.

Christmas Cards

Sir Henry Cole is credited with creating the first real Christmas card. The first director of London's Victoria and Albert Museum, Sir Henry found himself too busy in the Christmas season of 1843 to compose individual Christmas greetings for his friends.

He commissioned artist John Calcott Horsley for the illustration. The card featured three panels, with the centre panel depicting a family enjoying Christmas festivities and the card was inscribed with the message "A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to You."

Christmas Tree

The idea of a decorated tree in the home was started by the Romans many centuries ago for the festival of Saturnalia. Sometimes they put 12 candles on the tree, one for each month. Gradually the practise of decorating a tree with ornaments and lighted candles spread across Northern Europe and into Scandinavia. Austria is said to have had its first tree in 1816 when Princess Henrietta set one up in Vienna. In 1840 Princess Helena of Meckleburg brought the idea to Paris. In England it has always been a custom to decorate an evergreen garland called a ‘kissing bush’, but in 1841 Prince Albert, Consort to Queen Victoria, introduced a tree decorated with candles, tinsel, and ornaments as part of the Christmas celebrations at Windsor Castle. After that, the Christmas tree soon became an English tradition.

Boxing Day
This is a uniquely British one and we get a 2nd day off! Boxing Day takes its name from the ancient practice of opening boxes that contained money given to those who had given their service during the year. It was also the day when alms boxes, placed in churches on Christmas Day, were opened. The money was then given to the priest or used to help the poor and needy. Another name for Boxing Day used to be Offering Day.

The Queen's Message
The first Christmas Broadcast was delivered by George V in 1932 and since then has evolved into an important part of the Christmas Day celebrations for many in Britain and around the world.

Tomorrow: Learn about how our neighbours in Europe spend Christmas

Items of Desire #1: Monty Don's shed

2011-12-18T09:58:00.000Z

It may seem a strange thing to lust after, but I am very covetous of TV gardener Monty Don's shed.
Looking at some of the gardening community sites, I'm not the only one (although Monty himself usually comes into the lust equation there).

His shed is large and spacious, with his tools neatly hanging on hooks. He's got lighting and, the thing I most envy, a four sided box from which he scoops his compost mix for potting up (you can just see it, in the corner of his worktop, below).

A shed like that seemed a distant dream.

Our shed is a a weird structure that I called "the haunted house" because the door was so rotten a huge hole had developed and any passing fox (or worst) could kip down among the tools, paint cans, old coffee tables, bike and other mildewy items. Unlike a normal shed, the previous owners built it on a concrete base and it's made of bricks with a flat corrugated plastic roof.

The roof began to bow under the weight of leaves from next door's leylandii. The shed was taking in more water than the Titanic.

But now the shed has had a face lift. We have had a new roof and the window frames and door replaced. It looks quite cute! Phase 2 will see a power supply (J has already installed a consumer unit in the garage) and the construction of a worktop and compost mixing box, just like Monty's. I've got an envelope full of seeds sent by my mum, and this spring I fully expect to be out there potting up. Happy times!

Who needs the BAFTAS or the Emmys? These are the awards to win.....

2011-12-05T19:58:00.001Z

Ahead of the nationals and gossip mags with their "reviews of the year," here is my Yuletide celebration of the naff and the triumphant. Brace yourself for this year's Curious Girl awards!

The "enough already" award for over exposure
Pippa Middleton. Am I the only one who's fed up with hearing about the saintly bottom? And massive advances for her book about party tips. I blame the Middletons for spoiling children's parties by making parents feel guilty about not having the latest table decorations and the showiest party bags.

Most cynical use of media
I'm not sure who Kim Kardashian is: I believe she's a reality "star" in the US and her family all have names beginning with K. Predictably she married someone whose name began with K, got lots of wonga in the downmarket gossip mags and then split up with him. We haven't seen such a cynical use of the media since Jordan married Alex Reid.

Top Chap
Gareth Malone. What he does with dispirited communities and disenfranchised military wives has to be seen to be believed. He is a tonic for the nation! Let's all sing a song in his honour. I'd like Mr Malone to tackle care homes next. I heard about a women's choir in the north who go round care homes teaching the staff how to sing without embarrassment to the residents. Those with dementia often still remember songs long after they have lost all other memory.

Top Bird
Kate Middleton. I admit I wasn't won over until the wedding. I thought of her as "Waity Katie." But she has conducted herself immaculately since the wedding. Ignore the occasional carping about your eyeliner and "too long" hair. The harridans are just jealous!

Biggest disappointment of the year
Mary Portas at House of Fraser. She may have wanted to offer the over 50's better service and a better choice of fashion, but the clothes fell short of the mark. Some nasty fabrics and shapeless sacks. Mary's mistake was imaging that her peers are all willowy and tall like her. Gok Wan may be naff, but he understands how to flatter a woman's shape.

"It'll Never Last" award for the relationship doomed to failure
1) Elizabeth Hurley and Shane Warne
2) Jason Orange and Catherine Tate

"Time to keep Schtum" award, given to those who talk too much
1) Liz Jones, the sad, pitiable Daily Mail writer who cheerfully chronicles how she can't get on with anyone.
2) Esther Rantzen, who constantly writes about her loneliness. OK, she might be lonely, but she enjoys good health, she has family and she isn't short of a bob or two. "Count your blessings" springs to mind.

Slimeball of the Year Award
This one is always fiercely competitive. So many men to choose from! The loathsome misogynists Jeremy Clarkson or Rod Liddle. The slippery and self righteous Julian Assange.The shameful way that Ashton Kutcher humiliated Demi Moore. The low life John Terry, whose crime is that he doesn't even realise how awful his behaviour is. Quite a few senior clerics in the Catholic Church, frankly deserve this award for not dealing with child abuse which STILL happens. But this year it goes to Dominique Strauss Kahn, who thinks it's OK now to lament his fall from grace in terms which suggest we over exaggerated the vile predatory nature of the man.

"Consign to the dustbin" award
The X Factor. In its early stages the show cynically humiliates people - those with learning difficulties, the obese, the tone deaf - chosen by the producers to "amuse" us, like a Victorian bear baiting tournament. Then judges who are ill equipped to make any serious judgments on musical talent (except Louis Walsh) parade their outfits and ruin the dreams of many.

Rocket. This revolting leaf finds its way into salads the world over, ruining everything. An end to it!

The It Took Us Years To Get Bruce Forsyth Knighted, Now Let's Do It For.....
Robin Gibb. Now. The man deserves it!

Now dear reader, what about your awards? Who have I missed?

I am indebted to......

2011-11-22T12:20:00.000Z

My old mucker Maddie Grigg has kindly given me a Lovely Blog award. Many thanks!
There are four rules associated with the award:
1) To thank the giver and link back to his or her site.

2. Provide five random facts that folks may not know about you.

3. Pass this award on to five other lovely blog sites and let them know you're awarding them.
4. Copy the award logo and paste it onto your own site.

Here are the random facts:

I once had a letter from Iggy Pop. Yes seriously - the grandfather of punk told me all about his cat (!)
I once did the Royal Marines Endurance Course at Lympstone. I was going to say "ran" but that would be stretching the truth. However, I did manage to finish it within the 30 minute time limit and my dad (a former Royal Marine) was very proud
I only like one type of white wine, very oaky New World Chardonnay. Out of fashion, but there you go
I am passionate about piccalilli (and wrote about it in a previous post)
My specialist subjects, should I go on Mastermind, include the ballet dancer Nijinsky, the toe toed sloth, Imperial topaz and the books of Thomas Hardy

Now to share the love I am going to nominate Maggie May at Nuts in May, Lucy at Thoughts and Worries from the Wrong Side of the Hill, Robyn at Joyful Follies, What's Happening at My House and Anne at The Frump Factor.

Coming soon at this blog: my celebrity awards of the year. Roll out the virtual red carpet as we celebrate the most boring couples, the year's worst slimeballs, the most uplifting achievements and the overall Best Chap and Top Bird.

The Power of Singing

2011-11-17T11:05:00.000Z

It seems like a no-brainer.

Singing in groups, or choirs, is proven to have a magical effect on everyone.
Care homes have found that even quite badly affected sufferers of Alzheimer's and dementia still remember favourite songs from their youth. The Alzheimer's Society offers a service called "Singing for the brain." New research this week showed that Parkinson's Disease patients also benefited from song. Singing can help stroke victims regain the power of speech. It can help people overcome depression, and lose weight.

And of course, the inspirational Gareth Malone and the latest "The Choir" TV programme, where he brought together military wives to form a choir, is a great example of how singing brought together a lonely and isolated group of people. The spectacular results were seen when the Military Wives' Choir performed at the Royal British Legion's Festival of Remembrance at the Royal Albert Hall.

So if it's such a no-brainer that singing really helps, why is it marginalised in schools, disappearing from university courses and largely disregarded by the NHS?
Further reading
What is singing for the brain? By the Alzheimer's Society
How singing may help stroke victims
Music healing for depression
Health choirs: let's have singing on rescription, from The Daily Telegraph
In praise of Gareth Malone: from The Guardian

Remembrance Sunday parade in Chingford

2011-11-13T13:23:00.000Z

Remembering those who gave their Today for our Tomorrow

2011-11-11T08:00:00.020Z

This year's Festival of Remembrance has added poignancy for me. I have been researching my late father's family tree and discovered that his dad, Charles Edward Tyler, was a driver in the RFA who saw action on the Somme and two other battlefields. He received three medals and was badly gassed. I will remember this brave little man - he was only 5'5 - whom I never met - when the poppies fall softly, so quietly, from the ceiling of the Royal Albert Hall on Saturday.

In Flanders Fields by John McCrae, May 1915

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

In memory of She magazine

2011-11-09T09:48:00.000Z

Regular readers will know I buy a lot of magazines. For the last few weeks I've been looking for one of my regulars, She magazine. Having realised I hadn't seen it for a long time, I Googled it and found it has been closed down.

This always makes me very sad, particularly when a magazine has been around for a long time (in She's case, 56 years). Invariably a new publisher takes over and decides to shut down a title. That's it, there is usually no last edition or requiem.

I first started reading She when I was very young and my mum occasionally bought it. In those days it was very different - the masthead looked a bit like Punch and it had quirky content, far removed from the usual women's magazines with their articles about preparing for summer/ Christmas and how to look younger. I bought a few copies from the 70s on ebay - here's an example (left). It was quite risque at the time, as you can see from some of the headlines. Notice how the model is slim but healthy looking.

The adverts were fascinating. Outdoor Girl cosmetics; Innoxa Solution 41 for spots; "Get More Out of Nursing" and "Nice girls don't drink Guinness." In one of my copies there is an advert for a new magazine launching soon - Cosmopolitan.

I imagine the reader then was a fairly bohemian woman with her own opinions who had probably stayed on a kibbutz and was an early adopter of women's lib.

It wasn't long before a new editor was apppointed and the brief was "revolutionise" She and bring it up-to-date. So it became a lot more like any other women's magazine. The problem She always had was that it was unclear of its target reader and how to differentiate itself.

There were various attempts over the years. When Linda Kelsey (formerly of Cosmopolitan) became editor, she turned it into my least favourite version, the magazine for 'women who juggle their lives' aimed at young mothers.

Briefly there was a period when a male editor was apppointed and the magazine suddenly became sterile and soulless with "how to" articles and glossy cookery cards. How to have the perfect dinner party. How to remove stains. There was no emotional content whatsoever.

In its last gasp years, She had established a solid position where it occupied that glossy, aspirational but not too aspirational ground along with Red and Eve magazines (Eve was unfortunately closed a few years ago).

It had celebrity cover models, some with greater celebrity than others: Myleene Klass, Tess Daley...oh and Jennifer Lopez. The target reader was probably a youngish mother who also had a career, unlike the stay-at-home mother that it had targeted a few years earlier. The magazines had realised readers wanted some escapism, with articles about shopping, beauty and holidays, rather than choosing the best school or disposable nappies road tested.

Let's hope all the staff were given jobs on other titles, and let's raise a glass to a magazine that represented very well the different evolution of women in its 56 years.

Finally it's ready

2011-11-08T09:38:00.000Z

A few weeks ago I showed you some of the different stages of building work after the old lean-to was demolished and replaced with a new conservatory.

After what seems like months it is now finished. We are using it as a home office. It is very modern and minimal looking. We're going to add a couple of comfy (modern) chairs and the barren garden you see through the door is soon to be transformed.

Here's John sitting in his new home office, his pride and joy.

From butlers to Football League glory

2011-10-24T10:00:00.001+01:00

Butlers to football sponsorship.....it's in all in a day of unsolicited emails from agencies and publishers desperate to win the business of my company.

I decided to keep a tally of how many emails I received in one day: Friday, 21 Oct. The number was 14, which was fairly average. It's never less than 10 a day and sometimes more than 25. Plus there are numerous cold calls a day to my office number, which, unsurprisingly, I don't return.

The first approach on Friday was a sweet one, coming from sweetsandcandy.co.uk, and offering tasty promotional treats for corporate hospitality.

A recruitment agency, Consumer Recruitment, then contacted me saying they've recently had great success in placing butlers and clubbers. Well, could always be useful.....

There was a biggie before lunch, an offer of "The Intel Cup" if we decided to sponsor the Football League. I didn't like to highlight our very small scale sponsorship of struggling local team Swindon Town FC.

Now behind the daily deluge is the sad story of agencies going to the wall because of the recession, and desperate people trying to win new business. And I know what it's like being set targets for getting credentials meetings because there was a brief time when I had to do this, and it was torture.

A few tips to agencies on how to get breakthrough. Organising lunches with compelling speakers and networking opportunities is always a good way to get interest. But not giving 2 days' notice because, yep, we know why you've done that and it doesn't make us feel good, so we'll always say we're busy.

Basic research helps. A more personal approach, based on a quick Google search of what Intel has been up to in the UK, is bound to win my attention. I won't be impressed if you emailed my predecessor (who left the role three years ago) because if your database is out of date, I'm sure the rest of your marketing will be too.

Boasting about you have "turned round" other companies doesn't do it for me. An agency recently sent me a lurid case study about how Nokia is in dire straits and they plan to relaunch the company. Ouch.

I don't like the hard nosed, "assumptive close" practiced by US companies. I seem to be on a database in the US and the favoured approach there is to send me a meeting invitation "on behalf" of someone senior who can only offer me 30 minutes. As if they're doing me a favour!

Here's one I had on Friday: "I'd like to get on your calendar - please let me know a DATE and a TIME that works for you" - a vice president of Saving the Day Mobilezapp Apps (in the US). Whoa, stop shouting!

Spelling and punctuation mistakes will never endear any agency that is offering to approach consumers on our behalf. I automatically delete any emails where the humble apostrophe has been abused.

My top tip for agencies would be:- you're in it for the long haul. If a company is happy with its agencies, that might change in a couple of years. So keep a friendly dialogue going. Don't keep sending me PDFs to read. Remember some small personal details. Don't get peevish about me not returning your calls. If I'm not shopping for an agency, with the best will in the world I'm not going to call you back just because you want to pitch your business.

One of the best approaches I had recently was from OgilvyOne. The UK chief executive had read my entry in the Little Black Book of Marketing and referred to it. This established a bond, and I have kept their details on file.....which is not something I do very often.

Here come the girls

2011-10-17T10:49:00.001+01:00

Had a fabulous catch-up in Tavistock with four former colleagues (left). It may have been more years than we care to remember since we first met in a portakabin in Plymouth, but we look darned good! Back then, we were embarking on our journalists' training, and on Saturday night as we reminisced, we realised how fortunate we were to do it and what a marvellous training it was.

One of the questions we asked at the weekend was "who still has their cuttings book?" I still have mine, and the stories are typical of a small local paper of record. The South Devon Times cost twelve pence in 1980 and carried stories about local organisations, weddings, dog shows, the WI. We were sent on "prowls" of our particular patch, which I hated with a vengeance. In these pre-Google days, journalists were expected to go and find news.

One of my biggest stories was about a railwaymen's social club which forgot to renew its alcohol licence and was "dry" for a month. This story was picked up by the sister paper, the Daily Mirror.

Another of my most memorable stories was about the Yealm harbourmaster coming under fire at a local council meeting. I was sitting at the back of the room, unnoticed by the councillors, and came away with a story about "what had he been doing on the night two boats sank?!"

When the story was published there was a local outcry, and the next story was "Harbourmaster defended." The story ran for weeks and was even discussed at a public inquiry which I covered. I was persona non grata in the village of Noss Mayo, populated by a good many surgeon rear admirals and people with double barrelled names.

I was lucky enough to have my own column in the paper every week, where, as a 19 year old, I expatiated in pompous vein on a range of topics including cats, men's socks, and - right - defending parents from smug and silly teenagers.

Autumn viewing

2011-10-12T11:27:00.000+01:00

Nancy Dell 'Ollio

As we look forward to the bitterly cold winter that we are promised,
the autumn TV viewing schedules are now in full swing.

Strictly Come Dancing as always launched with the predictable "best ever line-up." It's as predictable as the message "cooking doesn't get much tougher than this" over at Celebrity Masterchef.

The problem I see with SCD is that there's already one performer who is literally streets ahead of everyone else. Cheesy old Jason Donovan, who is determined to win. I can already see him in the final.

Holly Valance should probably also be there, but to my mind she comes across as lacking in energy. She doesn't fizz like the effervescent Chelsee Healey (yes, I also asked "who?").

The most elegant dancer among the mature ladies is Anita Dobson, who is not only lithe and graceful but seems genuinely sweet. Lulu of course thought her experience and dynamism would make up for not knowing the steps in week 1 and was soundly punished. Nancy Dell 'Ollio, well, where do we start? She is apparently having regular hissy fits backstage, the latest being that she wanted to sue judge Bruno for saying it looked as if she had drunk a vat of champagne before her performance on Saturday. (It did).

The thing with Nancy is that most of us think that when she says how fascinating and beautiful she is, she doesn't really mean it. But she actually does! The woman is completely delusional. J couldn't understand why she didn't get booted out right away, "because she's not a nice person." But that's exactly why she'll probably stay in for a while.

As for the others: well, Edina Currie severely over-egged the cougar bit and it became embarrassing, so that's why she went. I am worried about Russell Grant: I worry for his health and sanity. I love Robbie Savage. Beneath that brash extrerior, all teeth and hair and "I wuz a bad boy" he is quite vulnerable and couldn't believe the positive vibes his improved performance garnered. There's a couple of boring ones (to my mind) - Alex Jones and Dan Lobb from Daybreak. Oh and the drummer from McFly. But all in all, a compelling line-up!

Then there is Downton Abbey. Now I came late to this, having caught up with it when ITV repeated the first series a few months ago. Unfortunately, the new series is nowhere near as good. A lot of it makes me laugh outloud because it looks so much like the Comic Relief spoof. All those side glances.
The plot advances too quickly, like we're in a race. Lady Edith somehow managed to have a fling with a married man in the first episode which was history by the time the credits rolled. After the acrimony in the first series created by upstart heir Matthew, we're suddenly led to believe that everyone adores him in the second series. And I'm fed up with the "will they won't they" business with him and Lady Mary. That's one bit of the plot that could advance.

A couple of other gems I am watching. "The Department Store" is a fascinating little documentary on BBC 4. It's a gentle, wry look at three old-fashioned family-run department stores. The narrator says he is finding out if they will survive, but it's more about finding out about the people who run the stores. The first programme featured a store called Milner's and wondered if David Milner was serious about retiring at 65. Mr Milner is exactly the sort of mature employee who gives the over 60s a bad name. He was dogmatic, entirely resistant to change and unwilling to hand over the store to his daughter - exactly as his own father had refused to do with him. Even during his own retirement party, he slipped out to go back to work.

I really don't remember much about the pop group Steps so I was amazed to hear in Steps Reunion how they considered themselves to be about as big as the Beatles with numerous number one hits. They broke up amid acrimony over 10 years ago when Claire "serial dieter" Richards and the absurdly named "H" suddenly announced they were leaving, an hour before the last show.

As none of them has done much since then, "Steps Reunion" is a series that gives us the chance to witness them bitching and fighting about the break-up, with Lee even going so far as to magically produce H's resignation letter; and then presumably they kiss and make-up, because I see a tour has now been announced. The series has been strangely compelling, though I feel a bit guilty for watching what J calls "proper rubbish."

Ditch the cougar talk

2011-10-03T14:21:00.000+01:00

Three fabulous ladies were in the news this week - and not for the right reasons.

The bitchy female columnists were whipping themselves up into a frenzy over the news that Demi Moore's husband appears to have cheated on her. They seemed to be of one mind: Demi could now stop making herself look young and glamorous; put on an old dressing gown, have a cup of tea and find an old codger.

Frankly Demi, you're way too good for him. He might look cute but his films are rubbish and his behaviour, if it's true, is childish and arrogant.

Meanwhile Elizabeth Hurley, 48, is thrilled to be engaged to Aussie Shane Warne. But the newspapers decided to run the views of "friends" who seem to think that Hurley is rushing into things and it will all end in tears.

And finally the redoubtable Anne Robinson, 67, was under fire for wearing fabulous clothes. A (gasp!) tote bag costing over fifteen hundred pounds. A beautifully flattering Michael Kors dress. And (shock!) high heels.

Yes ladies, feminism is well and truly dead when it's the female writers who can't wait to get their claws into three ladies whose only crime is discipline and focus on looking good.

Anyone could put on a dressing gown and let it all hang out over 40. But Demi, Elizabeth and Anne have imposed rigorous discipline on their lives to look good. And they'll be fitter and more athletic than all their blobby counterparts. Who cares if they've had help along the way? All three are a great advert for the best in cosmetic surgery, fillers or whatever they're using.

I can't understand this obsession with criticising women who spend money on the odd handbag. Do we castigate Jeremy Clarkson and his ilk for buying flash cars? Yet if you're saying that Anne Robinson et al should buy some old tote from Dorothy Perkins, then Clarkson and his gang could equally drive a Clio or Smart car.

If the ladies have earned their money, let them enjoy it!

More nonsense about coffee

2011-09-27T13:05:00.000+01:00

One gripe I would happily bring to the "Grumpy" TV programme is "spurious health research and lazy journalists."

We're constantly given contradictory information about the health benefits, or otherwise, of cofee, tea and chocolate, to name just three.

Quite often the research is based on too small a sample to ever be viable, yet it commands big headlines. If journalists weren't quite so lazy, being constantly spoon fed everything and rarely finding their own stories, they might deign to Google a few stories and weigh up the true worth of what the press releaase is telling them.

Today we're told that a woman who drinks four cups of coffee (or more) a day is a fifth less likely to become depressed . Those who drink two or three reduce their risk by 15%.

The research, by Harvard Umiversity, looked at 51,000 women over 10 years. It's a good solid sample size over a decent research period.

But we're also old that "too much" coffee can raise blood pressure and increase the heart rate. I would never drink four cups or more a day. There was a time when I did, and it made me either nauseous or jittery. Four cups or more sounds excessive. I'm surprised the researchers didn't look at the trade off between reduced levels of depression and increased blood pressure. I suspect they probably did, but preferred to major on the positive outcome of their research rather than consider 10 years and goodness' knows how much money wasted.

In France

2011-09-23T08:55:00.000+01:00

We enjoyed a fabulous long weekend in France, staying with J's sister Kate, a photographer who lives in the hills of Cabris, about 40 minutes' drive from Nice.

We combined some sight-seeing with sunbathing by the pool. It's a very beautiful part of the world and I loved the medieval town of Tourettes-sur-Loup, close to Grasse and famous for its violets.

Tourettes-sur-Loup

Me - in Nice

Kate grooms Teddy

Ladies enjoying the promenade in Nice

Up it goes

2011-09-22T14:28:00.001+01:00

We have had builders here for the last three weeks (it seems longer). We are finally replacing the wooden lean-to ("sun room" as it was described in the estate agent's particulars) that has been here for around 35 years.

It's being replaced with a much larger conservatory that we will use as our new home office. Here's a pictorial record of the work so far:

The lean-to as it was (you could never call it a conservatory!)

It leaked like a sieve and even had a few plants growing through the walls

Demolished!

Stonehenge?

The walls go up

Poor old J emerges from the foundations of the house, covered in dust, after sorting out some cables

Taking shape!

Structure now finished!

Plastering is underway

We're nearly seeing light at the end of the tunnel. A load of rubbish in the garden was removed today; the plasterers are hard at work and will complete the floor by Monday. Hopefully the tiles we are buying tomorrow will be laid early next week so that I can resume washing machine operations. We then need to paint the walls and wood, buy a new desk and cabinet to house the printer (in white) and complete the lighting. Then we are finally finished, and I will be able to relocate my craft den to what was formerly the office, upstairs.

Celebrating the banality of 1976 Top of the Pops

2011-09-14T13:16:00.001+01:00

A highlight of the week is BBC 4's faithful serialising of Top of the Pops from 1976.
1976 was before punk, when banality and mediocrity reigned. The show was at the height of its powers and presented by a series of Radio 1 DJs: Jimmy Savile, Dave Lee Travis, Diddy David Hamilton. They seem really square now but were like rock gods back then.

The last show I saw featured 10,000 Volts performing Dr Kiss Kiss. "This stayed at number eight but two weeks running, but MUST go up, it's amazing," shouted the Hairy Monster. The lead singer could easily have been in her 40s, dressed in a floaty top and looking as if she'd just come back from Tesco.
Then there was the memorable "In Zaire" (?) and Twiggy proving why she never really took off as a singer. Steve Harley (Cockney Rebel) rampaged round the ramparts of a castle licking his lips in what he presumably thought was the height of sexiness.

Occasionally there's a gem among the dross. In this episode it was Abba and Dancing Queen. I remember the very first time I heard it, early on a Saturday, not long before we were setting off for a caravan holiday in Hayle. I shouted up the stairs to my Mum, "It's the new one from Abba, it's really good!" Although strictly speaking, I didn't give Abba the time of the day, being a David Bowie fan. The Number One spot was held by Elton John and Kiki Dee for what seemed like weeks with "Don't go breaking my heart."

Another highlight of the show for me is looking at what the audience is wearing, and their hairstyles. In 1976 the hairstyles de jour were a) a feather cut or mullet, and b) a strange bob with flicked up ends. I favoured (a). The height of fashion was a short sleeved flowery dress, worn slightly below the knee, with a shirred / ruched top. I know, I had one. We also sported a knee-length denim skirt, not unlike the ones that Stella McCartney made fashionable last year, with a very demure pastel coloured short sleeved top. Wedge shoes were all the rage too athough you can't often see the feet of the dancing teens.

Ruby Flipper

What's also funny about this re-run of 1976 is that the ill-fated dance troupe Ruby Flipper (right) gets another stay in the sun. Flick Colby, the creator of their predecessors Pan's People, created Ruby Flipper when Pan's got the chop after nine years. The septet featured boys and girls.

We thrilled to their literal interpretations. Wings' seminal hit "Open the door and let 'em in" featured Ruby Flipper's dancers peering out from behind cardboard doors. No dancing at all, just pouting and gesturing to "come on in."

We probably didn't thrill because Ruby Flipper was axed in 1976 after just a few months and replaced by the all girl troupe Legs & Co. For their first three appearances they didn't even have a name, but listeners to Ed Stewart were asked to come up with one. Sadly, the TOTPs show where it was announced, in Nov 1976, no longer exists in the archive.

The BBC apparently lost most of its 70s transmissions of TOTPs except for 1976, which is a real shame. I hope they are more careful now with their archiving!

28 August: A Day in the Life

2011-08-29T11:27:00.001+01:00

I captured all the happenings of today to give you a day in the life.

It started with a walk along the canal. I used to run the 5k stretch from Ponder's End lock to a landmark I called the green bridge, but my running days have long since ended. So I walked instead and took a few photos:

Saw quite a few runners, cyclists and just a couple of narrowboats. Plus lots of wild life: swans, coots, horses.

I got home around 10.30 and realised I was out of cranberry sauce - essential for the Sunday roast. So I popped round to Budgen's, the supermarket round the corner.

After Budgen's it was time to prepare the dinner - roast chicken - and to tidy up the dining room.

While dinner was cooking I applied six watering cans of weedkiller to the lane, John having filled eight bags with weeds yesterday.

Dinner was delicious - chicken with roast potatoes, parsnips, carrots and artichokes, followed an hour later by sticky toffee pudding and custard. Just the three of us, J + daughter Rachel.

3.30pm and after dealing with the dishes and the kitchen, sat down to read the paper. John's brother Eamon came round for an hour.

Did some idle surfing on the computer for a while.

This is where it goes pear-shaped because I didn't take any more photos! However, I can reveal that after tea (buffalo mozarella/proscuitto and salad for J; quiche for me) we watched a film called "The Three Days After" with Mr Russell Crowe, which, after a slow start, became very gripping.

And to bed at 9pm to read for an hour.

How about recording one of your typical days?

The golden days of coach travel

2011-08-22T13:38:00.000+01:00

Another fascinating BBC 4 documentary on the 1950s hey-day of coach travel was a real eye opener. Imagine Victoria coach station in London overcrowded with thousands of excitable people, all in their best clothes and hats and hundreds of coaches to-ing and fro-ing.

On the coaches, it was quite normal to have a sing song. Sometimes you would travel all day but it didn't dampen people's enthusiasm.

They loved coach travel.

Factories in the industrial towns would often close for a fortnight in the summer, and the streets would be empty. Everyone would have gone off on a coach holiday. They loved it because they could save up during the year for their ticket, get collected virtually from the doorstep and travel with their friends and family.

Around the garden

2011-08-20T11:34:00.000+01:00

The back garden is a garden of two halves. On the left, a border of earth with nothing planted; on the right, various containers and a couple of small trees. We had the border cleared a few weeks ago and I'm going to improve the soil before planting anything. There were some trees including leylandii which leeched all the goodness from the soil and left it very dry. I'm mulling over what to plant there. I was thinking a small fruit tree (maybe a medlar) and English cottage flowers, but now I am wondering about another rose bed including some climbers on the fence.

J thinks we have far too many roses as it is. Here's a shot of the rose bed at the front.

I tried growing dahlias for the first time this year. My dad was an expert. I kept to the Bishop varieties - I particularly like the red Bishop of Llandaf - but only half of them grew, and just one was red.

I had more luck with a packet of nasturtium seeds. I threw these down and the flowers have climbed all over the hedge.

The salvia Hot Lips was a particular joy this year, as was the pink phlox and the penstemons. Very prolific flowerers.

Children's play

2011-08-18T08:59:00.000+01:00

There was a fascinating programme on BBC4 last night about children's play from the 1900s to the 1950s. Part 2 is tonight and will cover the 1950s and beyond. I think they're going to say that after the 50s, everyone became more affluent and children more or less stopped playing in the streets and had more toys to play with.

It's certainly true today, but it wasn't the case when I was growing up (which was well after the 50s, before you ask!).

I grew up in the comfortable suburbs of Plymouth, out in the countryside (now replaced by houses). There were fields to roam, streams with tadpoles, a children's plaground that was hideously unsafe by today's standards, and hedges where we picked primroses and blackberries.

We stayed out all day and played games: skipping, fighting "the enemy end" (the children at the end of the road), building a den, and racing go-karts which our dads had made.In the school playground we played "British Bulldog," which the teachers would stop because they said it was dangerous. We played conkers, myself a bit half heartedly because I didn't have the patience to harden the conker in the oven or douse it with vinegar.

As I got a bit older I became obsessed with writing and would borrow the neighbour's typewriter and create my own magazine, "Smash & Grab." There were plenty of other indoor games; creating plays, marrying off the Sindys to the action men, and throwing the gonk down the landing. That was a game made up with my elder brother and we used to play it for hours. Games that came out at Christmas or wet caravan holidays: Frustration, Buckaroo!, Ker-Plunk, Movie Maker, Cluedo and Monopoly.

There were toy trends that would sweep the neighbourhood. Chopper bikes. Deely boppers. Space hoppers (top). And the weird and short lived trend of running and holding a length of coloured tubing in your hand (above) so that it made a strange noise. I sometimes think I imagined those, because no-one else remembers.

What games did you play as a kid?
I

Nicholas Cage interrupted by hot air balloon

2011-08-16T14:22:00.001+01:00

There I was, on the sofa watching Nicholas Cage in Season of the Witch, when a hot air balloon gently crossed my vision.

"Quick! Get the camera," I shrieked, but J was immovable saying I had plenty of time, the balloon would be moving very slowly.

Well it was hurtling as fast as a balloon could go, but I managed to get a few shots. I wonder if it had taken part in the Bristol event? More on that and an undignified exit for one balloon in Maggie May's blog.

Blogger turns into chipmunk

2011-08-12T14:47:00.000+01:00

J will probably kill me for posting such a terrible picture, but there you go. Here I am, a day after the op to remove my hidden wisdom tooth. My cheek has swollen and I look like a chipmunk. Tired too because I was wide awake at 3am.

Anyway, the good news is that the pain didn't last long - I haven't had to take any painkillers since breakfast time - and I am chomping on both sides of my mouth. Hoorah.

I asked for the tooth and was going to photograph it for you but it is in four fragments and looks a bit revolting so I didn't. Enjoy your weekend!

We will bounce back

2011-08-09T10:07:00.001+01:00

It's a few hours after riots hit the UK's troublespots and some of its more affluent neighbourhoods (Ealing, Clapham). Twitter is astir again but this time with defiant people using social media to organise #riotcleanup. There is even a new website, riotcleanup.com

Watching the violence spread from London to places like Birmingham, Leeds and Bristol was terrifying. There were amazing acts of bravery - Asian youths banding together to repel the vandals in East London - and heart breaking stories of people losing their businesses and homes. I wept to hear about the Reeves business in Croydon with @marcreeves tweeting that it had been established by his great great grandfather in 1867.

Today the only Govt minister who seems to be around, Theresa May, was bleating on about "we need to" do this and that, and we "have to sit down with the police." Fortunately the massed ranks of the Hurlingham club, Boris n Dave, are flying home from holidays today to try to sort it all out, so I'm looking forward to seeing Boris cycle down to Croydon or Dave catching the omnibus over to Hackney to have a bit of a chat with the youngsters.

Among the anguished tweets last night I saw this from Hannah Nicklin who says she understands what is driving the rioters.

Today there will be endless debate about the role of social media and BlackBerry messenging in all this, but remember there have been spates of violence like this throughout history and all they could do then was light beacons.

It's too late to start talking about "we need to get parents to keep their children in" or blaming it all on single parents and not enough fathers. Governments have to address the matter of what to do with virtually illiterate young people for whom there are no jobs. Cutting their benefits, as the current government is trying to do, isn't an answer when nobody is creating work. I used to believe that education was the answer: that anyone, from any background, could work their way up with hard work. But now, looking at the number of graduates unable to find a job, it doesn't ring true.

All I do know is that London and our other cities will bounce back. We outnumber the anarchists and we're proud of our green and pleasant land. It's just a terrible pity that we've shown the world a glimpse of London through a broken window when most of us were bursting with pride about what we've achieved the for the Olympics.

Irrationally excited about the dentist

2011-08-07T17:45:00.000+01:00

I think I've mentioned before that I've always enjoyed a visit to the dentist. I prefer it far more than going to the hairdresser. All that personal attention, and no need to make conversation!

Well this time next week I will probably be looking like a chipmunk but at least it will be gone. A wretched lower wisdom tooth which has been trying to force its way to the surface for nearly a year.

The funny thing was, I thought I'd had my wisdom teeth out years ago, in the dentist's chair. Like a trooper I came home on the bus on my own and was eating within an hour. I always disparaged those who went to hospital for such a small procedure.

Well, as Mr Ali told me this week, we have upper and lower wisdom teeth. The uppers are the ones removed in the dentist's chair. The lowers, when they have to come out, are generally removed in hospital. In my case, I have a cyst as well and it's all very close to a nerve, so I will be under a general anaesthetic.

I expect I'll be the only patient they've had who's so excited about an op. I'll be asking if I can have the offending molar, so if you're lucky I may treat you to a pic next week!

My mum is coming to stay next weekend and I asked her what the going rate is for the tooth fairy these days, but she muttered something about me being too old for all of that. Next thing she'll be telling me is that Father Christmas doesn't exist.

Celebrities + Apprentice: great combo

2011-07-22T15:02:00.000+01:00

Lennox & friend

Comic Relief has featured a couple of episodes of Celebrity Apprentice. But these were only shorts. What's good about the series being shown late on BBC1, on Monday evenings, is that it's a full - length series, Celebrity Apprentice USA.

To start with, I didn't think I would be grabbed. I've heard of about 5 of the participants - Stephen Baldwin, Gene Simmons, Nadia Comeneci, Lennox Lewis and the ubiquitous Piers Morgan - but the rest were unknowns.

But get all those egos into one show, and make them deliver on real challenges, with the proceeds going to a charity each week, and it becomes a winning combination.

In the second show, the two teams had to produce a TV advert for Pedigree petfoods promoting a homeless dog scheme.

In the men's team, Gene Simmons (Kiss) and Stephen Baldwin decided to run the show single handed as project manager and director, and sent everyone else back to the hotel. Except for their acting talent, our own Lennox Lewis. The idea was that you have a big heavyweight boxing champion going all soft and mushy over a poor unloved pug dog.

So convinced were they of success they didn't even take the brief from the client, and managed to offend one of the judges, Trump's daughter Ivanka, in the process. (Both judges are Trump offspring. Isn't nepotism great?).

So you were imaging they were setting themselves up for disaster and the women's team, led by a TV executive with a most peculiar face (the effects of botox) would cruise to victory.

And quite the reverse happened. Lennox was so engaging in the ad, and it was so simple, everyone adored it and Pedigree will now use it on TV.

I had to smile because the lessons learnt from this episode are not conventional:

get on with it if you have a great idea and don't bother consulting with clients or colleagues
it's OK to ruffle the feathers of people you don't think are that important (Ivanka Trump) if you're convinced you're going to succeed.

Nadia Comeneci

Just a pity that Nadia Comeneci was fired. The women celebrities are all a bit nicey-nicey with each other and the one that should have got the boot didn't even get nominated.

Worth setting up your Sky+ folks. Catch the first two episodes on iPlayer.

The picnic concert season

2011-07-18T12:19:00.000+01:00

I'm a sucker for picnic concerts, which is unfortunate given the vagaries of the English summer. The last time we went to one of the English Heritage picnic concerts, at Kenwood House, we needed umbrellas and the picnic rug doubled as, well, a rug round the legs, as it got a bit nippy.

The picnicking hoardes

Undeterred, I booked a while ago for a more local picnic concert, this time at historic Copped Hall and featuring the New Redbridge Wind Orchestra.

And, hallejuha, the weather held off. There were sunny intervals which more than compensated for the fact it was blowing a gale. And a beer tent selling Pimm's. What more could you want?

Admiring the walled garden (Pimm's in hand)

Copped Hall is a fascinating place, dating from the 12th century. Queen Mary, Henry VIII's daughter with Katherine of Aragon, lived there (or more accurately, was imprisoned there for a time). Unfortunately it was badly damaged by fire in 1917. Since then its future has been in doubt many times with developers trying to get their hands on the parkland. However in 1996 the Corporation of London bought the parkland and the Copped Hall Trust now own the mansion and gardens.

There are regular events to raise money as the renovation continues, including tours of the gardens. We were surprised at how fine the gardens are, particularly the walled garden. And the views are spectacular. You would never guess you're so close to the M25.

So thrilled was I with the picnic concert that I nearly booked one for Saturday, care of a last minute Groupon deal: Elton John at Hatfield House. J was reluctant however so I didn't, and seeing as it rained most of the day on Saturday, we had a lucky escape!

Two nations divided by a common language

2011-07-06T08:00:00.038+01:00

While I could never be accused of having Received Pronunciation, I do speak the Queen's English quite proper like, so it's always baffling that as soon as I set foot on US soil, no-one can understand me. I find myself Americanising the tomato (tom-ay-to) and water (wadder) as well as turning objects like pavements into sidewalks, taxis into cabs and lifts into elevators.

Our US friends have taken quite a few liberties with the language. Goodness knows what happened to aluminium in the translation (aloomin-um). Anonymous and I have a real "thing" about the phrase "I'll be with you monentarily." Aaargh! In a moment!

I read a lot of US fiction by writers like Sue Miller and Anita Shreve. There are many words and phrases which, to start with, I had no idea what they were. These include:
- Jello (I think it's an equivalent to jam, as opposed to a wobbly jelly?)
- the bleachers
- Sophomores
- Phi Beta Kappa
- Goodwill (charity shops?)
- the boardwalk
- Ivy League
- WASP
And then there are phrases which are quite innocuous in the US, like fanny and shag, which have entirely different meanings here. I remember being appalled as a teenager reading Elizabeth Taylor's diet tips where she gave exercises to tighten the fanny. How rude, I thought! But she meant "butt," to use another cute Americanism, or as we would say, bottom, behind or posterior (if we were very posh.)

I'm sure my US readers can reciprocate with words we use which have no meaning to you - any takers?

PS on Grimaldi wedding

2011-07-05T13:39:00.000+01:00

So here it is, for 400 Wakeups, a couple of pictures of the wedding of Prince Albert and the new Princess Charlene of Monaco.

It's been alleged that poor Charlene attempted to do a runner no less than three times: the first when she went to Paris for a dress fitting and another during the Monaco Grand Prix. No wonder she was seen crying a few times during the church ceremony.

I have to say that looking at the Hello! coverage, it struck me that the couple didn't look very happy. When she cried, Albert looked at her quizzically. There are no touching or tender looks. The kiss was really awkward - I'm sure a body language expert would have a field day. But she looked beautiful in an amazing regal dress by Armani. The bridesmaids wore a traditional Monagasque costume which looked like fancy dress.

As for the supporting cast, well it turns out Princess Caroline is estranged from Prince Ernst, so he wasn't there. She and Princess Stephanie were seen together on several occasions so they must be on speaking terms. Caroline's four children looked stunning, as did the girlfriends of sons Andrea (second in line to the throne) and Pierre.

Caroline's outfit has grown on me (right, in the turquoise maxi and rafia hat with yellow flowers). Her eldest daughter was also wearing a rafia hat. Stephanie, on the left, wore outfits in a similar colour for both ceremonies. I don't want to be mean because I like her very much, but she seems to be an example to us all of what the sun can do to your skin.

Here is the Earl of Wessex, also wearing fancy dress, and the Countess of Wessex, who represented the Queen. The wedding was stuffed to the gunnels with royalty of all descriptions, mostly minor.

Let's hope they all live happily ever after!

Andy Murray and David Haye: what a disaster

2011-07-04T08:58:00.001+01:00

I don't watch tennis anymore. I was a huge fan of Wimbledon a few years ago, but I don't bother now. I find it too painful to witness the feverish hope and expectation for the British players, followed by the inevitable letdown and disappointment.

Both Tim Henman and Andy Murray were among the world's top players (Murray is #4 right now) but both are chokers. Murray has now bombed in, what, four semi-finals?

The problem to me, as an observer, is psychological. He was quoted as saying "I CAN beat the world's top player, if the centre court audience gets behind me."

I have a big problem with that. It seems he's already put Nadal on a pedestal and is admitting it's unlikely he'll beat him. Yet surely any player in the top 20 can topple another. I doubt if the eventual winner Novak Dojokovic was counting on centre court support to beat the world's top player. He just woke up thinking to himself "I'm going to crucify that &@!!!!!"

I wish the British tennis players would show a bit more aggression and ambition. They seem to lack the killer instinct.

I hesitate to use David Haye as an example, seeing as he was defeated over the weekend too, but he generated a lot of hype and excitement by continually criticising his rival, Vladimir Klitschko, in the run-up to the heavyweight boxing championship.

Vladimir Klitschko

Now Haye is blaming a broken toe for his defeat, and I think it's feeble and mealy-mouthed of him. He and his trainer took the decision that his toe wouldn't cause a problem and went ahead with the bout. So he can't now blame the injury. He went the distance. It's a sad end to his career, because he'll be remembered as a cry baby rather than a good (not great) boxer. I doubt if Klitschko will agree to a rematch. Why should he? He won fair and square. Hang up your gloves Haye and focus on your acting ambitions.

Oh we love a good Grimaldi wedding

2011-06-30T17:54:00.000+01:00

I am greatly cheered by the prospect of another Big Fat Royal Wedding, the marriage of His Serene Highness Prince Albert of Monaco and the statuesque former swimmer Charlene Wittstock.
Everything about the Grimaldis is high drama, fashion and controversy.

Charlene Wittstock, Prince Albert & Princess Stephanie

Why, just a few days ago the bride attempted to do a runner, with a one-way ticket to her homeland of South Africa, after apparently learning about a new indiscretion by her fiance, who already has two illegitimate children.
The palace was even forced to deny this has happened (which means it must have), and Charlene was duly paraded through the streets withj Albert keeping a tight grip on her arm.
We are told she was "persuaded to stay," although the confiscation of her passport may have had something to do with it.

Monaco is a tiny place noted for tax exiles and described as "a sunny place for shady people" by W Somerset Maugham. But its high profile royals assure the principality of acres of column inches.
My favourite, you will recall, is Princess Stephanie, now 45. She married a former bodyguard but they divorced not long afterwards. She then had another baby and the father has never been revealed (but is believed to be another bodyguard). She has been a gymnast, a swimmingwear designer and a popstar, and has dated, excitingly, acrobats and lion tamers.
It seems she is often at odds with her elder sister Princess Caroline because they're often not pictured together. Let's hope there is an entente cordiale for tomorrow.
I wonder if Caroline's husband, Prince Ernst of Hanover, aka "the fighting prince," will be there? It is rumoured that he and Caroline are more or less separated. Caroline has three wonderfully attractive children. Her eldest daughter very closely resembles the younger Caroline.
The British royal family will be represented by the rather D list Prince Edward and Sophie, although Sophie could surprise us. She has a personal trainer and is experimenting with fashion, so we could be in for a Princess Beatrice style makeover.

The Monaco royal wedding is a two-day affair, tomorrow and Saturday. Can't wait!

Thyme and history

2011-06-29T11:55:00.004+01:00

We've just got back from our annual holiday in Greece. We went to the island of Kefalonia, the biggest of the Ionians.

On arrival I was surprised at how modern and prosperous the island looked. I had forgotten to swot up from my book of Greek islands and didn't know the island had suffered a terrible earthquake in 1953 which destroyed 90% of the buildings. So it lacks the little white houses of Greece, but strewn around the hillside you can see the ruined buildings.

It's a very lush and green island, heavy with the smells of thyme and rosemary which grow everywhere.

Our base was the beautiful hotel Regina Dell Acqua in Skala, built on a hill with a stunning infinity pool.

We learnt a lot of the history of Kefalonia when we took the ferry to nearby Ithaca, the smallest Ioanian island. Odysseus is believed to have very strong links with both places and we saw a bust of him in the square of Stavros village. There we also sampled the Ithacan speciality, rovani, a sticky honey cake. We learnt the origin of the phrase "beware of Greeks bearing gifts." When Oddyseus built the wooden horse to reclaim Helen of Troy, it was assumed to be a gift from a defeated army. The "victors" went off to celebrate, the horse opened and out ran Odysseus and his top soldiers who overran the Greeks and claimed victory after a 10 year war.

On an outing to the capital of Kefalonia, Argostoli, we happened to be there for a ceremony to mark the Special Olympics which take place in Athens in July. With a great deal of fanfare athletes ran by, a torch burned and Kefalonian dancers entertained us.

Our return home unfortunately coincided with the Greek national strike. The tiny island airport had queues of people snaking around the building. The problem appeared to be that all the check-in PCs were down. I'm not sure if this was strike related. The pilot referred to it as a "bit of a kerfuffle" at the airport. It was an amazing achievement that everyone was checked in manually, laboriously, with hand written boarding passes.

All in all a fabulous holiday! I'll add some photos when Blogger gets over its picture problem - I have tried with two different browsers but no good.

Eligible Royals: a shopping guide for Pippa Middleton

2011-06-12T15:35:00.000+01:00

Sir Stelios

Pippa Middleton, sister of the Duchess of Cambridge (formerly known as Waity Katie) is no longer with her banker boyfriend, according to The Sunday Times. I hope the split wasn't too traumatic for her, given that she had the major disappointment this week of being beaten by Carol Vorderman to the title "Rear of the Year."

The tabloids and gossip mags will work themselves up into a frenzy over who should date the fragrant maid of honour.

No doubt we will be told that she fell for Prince Harry and it was only a matter of time before the banker (deemed a bit boring by the gossip mags) was history.

My own theory is that she looked round on royal wedding day at the assembled royals, minor and major, and the various monied chinless wonders, all fawning over her, and thought "I'll have what she's having."

May I suggest she draws up a list of eligible bachelors, starting with royals. Prince Harry should top the list: it would be truly fairy tale (if not vaguely sinister) to have two Middletons married to the heirs. New fascinators all round, and a new trousseau from Royal Warrant holders Reiss.

Prince Albert of Monaco is due to marry in a month, but a determined attempt could see off the wide shouldered swimmer. Failing that, Caroline's son Andrea is extremely good looking, though may have a long wait before he becomes king.

Then there's Prince Carl Philip of Sweden, although as he's unlikely to become king unless disaster should befall his two sisters, so probably of less interest.

If heirs are a priority, may I present the Crown Prince of Jordan, Hussein bin Abdullah (pictured). And Jordan is so handy for Dubai with all that glittering duty free shopping! He's only 15 so Pippa may have to play the long game, but hey, anything her sister can do....

Finally, if she'd rather just marry for money, I suggest Arpad "Arki" Busson, the playboy financier, who has an on and off relationship with Uma Thurman. Or perhaps Sir Stelios Haji-Ioannou, As an added bonus, he lives in Monaco, so Pippa could start socialising with the Grimaldis, particularly Caroline's very attractive children, and all those F1 drivers. Plus a private jet could come in handy, even if it is orange and based at Luton.

On my bicycle

2011-06-10T07:41:00.001+01:00

I saw a 70s bike propped up against the wall yesterday. Memories came flooding back. When I was a kid, the Raleigh Chopper was the bike to have, although I preferred the dainty Raleigh Twenty (pictured). I didn't have a bike until I was about 10. It was my brother's cast-off, and he had had it second hand.
I was very excited to take my bike to the Cycling Proficiency Scheme, where first of all a friendly PC was going to check our bikes for roadworthiness. Unfortunately mine fell at the first hurdle! I came home in tears, and then something brilliant happened. My parents weren't very well off, and we did something unheard of: we went to Halford's and they bought me a new bike. It was a Tri-Ang Golden Arrow, not a bit cool, but I loved it anyway. I managed to pass the cycling proficiency.
The years went by, and bikes and me were not mutually compatible. I tend to want to get off when there's too much traffic around. And in London you're constantly afraid someone will steal it.
Anyway, in 1999 I went to live in Munich or a short period, and having a bike there was a must. I went to a specialist shop and bought a beautiful ladies' bike for 500 marks, which was quite a lot of money then.
I would cycle along the Isar and go to the Englischer Garten on Sundays, or down to my friend's house. It was idyllic.
The bike came back to the UK with me but hasn't had many sorties since. A lot of cycling goes on in nearby Epping Forest but you need a mountain bike for that.

On our cycling holiday

Five years ago J dragged me and his equally unwilling daughter on a cycling holiday: five days in Shropshire / Wales.
It was a revelation, cycling along unclassified roads in the countryside with hardly any traffic. In the evening we would arrive at a hotel, our bags having been sent on by road, and it was very rewarding to have a bath and big dinner after cycling for 30 miles.
How about you and bikes?

Alice's bucket list

2011-06-09T07:42:00.000+01:00

Something extraordinary happened on Twitter last night. In between the tweets discussing The Apprentice, a tweet appeared saying that Alice, a 15 year old with terminal cancer, wanted to trend on Twitter: please re-tweet. I did - as did everyone else - because an hour or so later when I checked, #alicebucketlist was in the top 10 global hash tags.

Alice created her bucket list a few days ago: the things she wants to do before she dies. She wrote in her blog last night that she and her mum were overwhelmed by all the messages, and she had only started the blog for her friends and family, never expecting it would be seen by such a huge audience. She currently has over 2000 comments and her bucket list wishes will all be fulfilled, except the trip to Kenya which she can't do because she is too poorly now.

Her wishes aren't particularly grandiose like those in the film "The Bucket List" where Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman went round the world ticking off the items on theirs. She wants a picture with her dog Mabel; she wants someone to do her hair (if they can); she wants a purple iPAD, although her mum had told her not to post that one. She wants to go to Cadbury World and eat lots of chocolate. And she wants everyone to donate bone marrow.

If I'm ever tempted to complain or grumble I will think of Alice and her bucket list.

How to do customer service - by Amazon

2011-06-02T17:14:00.000+01:00

There was an article this week about the chap who's taken over as MD at ailing UK bookstore Waterstones. He was confident that reinvigorating the shops would send shock waves reverberating across Amazon. His assessment was that we're not brand loyal to Amazon.

I think his view is a little naive and misguided. Amazon have indeed built brand loyalty and in the good old-fashioned way, by being excellent at what they do and making it easy to do business with them.

I was astonished by their superb Kindle customer service this week.

A couple of weeks ago I bought a new Kindle because my original model, the DX, looks a bit big and old-fashioned now (and doesn't fit in a handbag). Unfortunately it stopped working, so on Monday - note, a bank holiday - I contacted Amazon UK, or rather, they rang me. You enter your phone number on the website and ask for a call back. They rang immediately, and had all my details to hand. And, joy, it was a British call centre. A small thing to ask for, but it makes all the difference.

I was promised a replacement Kindle the next day and sent an email describing how to return the defective one. This included a link to DHL, so that I could arrange for them to collect it at a time convenient to me and the pre-paid label to use.

The new Kindle arrived as promised the next day - and how many companies would send out a new gadget to replace an old one they haven't had back yet? They give you 30 days to return it and if you haven't, your credit card gets charged again.

DHL collected the defective one today, as arranged.

Amazing service. What could be easier?

I was soon up-and-running with the replacement because all the books I have bought (99!) are easily transferred between my Kindles and other devices.

So to get back to my opening paragraph, I will still pop into Waterstones occasionally. But I'll be "Waterstoning" (a new verb) - ie, making notes of books that look interesting and then buying them from Amazon. I'm told Waterstones will launch their own e-reader but they have a very steep hill to climb to better either the Kindle or Amazon's customer service and number of e-books.

Getting ready for Greece

2011-05-27T15:10:00.002+01:00

Now....are you a last minute holiday booker, or do you book a long time in advance?
I am very much in the latter camp. The summer holiday is always booked in January, when it's a bit flat after Christmas, and I then have several months to get ready. And progressively more excited. Preparation includes losing a few pounds (I buy clothes in a smaller size to make sure I do it) and accumulating various items and clothes.

Top of the list:

- a new basket. It goes to the pool or beach with me along with a towel, ipod, earphones, sun lotions, comb, Kindle, etc. This year's basket (left) was bought on a visit to my Mum's in Plymouth and was produced by the RHS.

- a new set of matching sponge bag and cosmetic and make-up bags

- At least 12 books: I usually read one a day on holiday. Thank goodness for the Kindle. It was no fun carrying 12 books.

- new flip flops and silver sandals.

- three new Saress(es) with a matching hat and hat band (yes I know.....) These are a great invention and ideal for wearing from pool to lunch. Unlike pareos or sarongs, these are very easy to put on and always look nice.

This year's wash bag

- sun lotions when they are two for the price of one, or half price. They're a complete rip off when you buy them abroad.

Once at the resort the first thing we buy is a lilo. It gets left behind at the end of the holiday for someone else to enjoy. I wonder what this year's lilo trend is?

I did a last minute holiday once, when I was living in Munich. A friend and I went to the airport and bought a holiday to Crete which was departing in three days. It was very cheap and the view from the room was the air conditoning plant. After that I resolved I would always try to book early when you have lots of choice. What's your approach?

Sublime dining at Dinner by Heston

2011-05-25T17:58:00.008+01:00

A new entry in the Gail Top Ten Restaurants is Dinner by Heston - straight in at number two. Quite surprising when you consider that I am no lover of molecular dining. But this isn't Heston Blumenthal's normal gig. I've been to the Fat Duck, his Michelin two starred restaurant at Bray, and while the tasting menu is a fascinating experience, I will not, on Death Row, ask for smokey bacon ice-cream or snail porridge as my final repast.

What's different about Dinner, his new venture at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in London, is that he has lovingly recreated old English recipes; giving thrilling twists to some and simply enhancing others, while using the best produce.

What makes the restaurant so special is the combination of wonderful food with a beautiful room; a fantastic view of Hyde Park, and the most passionate and knowledgeable staff I've ever encountered.

So many fine dining restaurants are spoilt for me by pretentious legions of snooty waiters. At Le Gavroche, for example, you have a whole flotilla of people serving you: someone for the bread, the water, the wine, the food. Woe betide you if you ask the bread waiter for water. Meanwhile, at the other scale, there are restaurants where you are left languishing. Where, for example, the next course arrives before the plates have been cleared away. None of that at Dinner.

For starters, I should have chosen what's quickly become the star of the menu -Meat Fruit (left), circa 1500, which contains mandarin and chicken liver parfait. How stunning it looks (and tastes, I was assured) - this mandarin shaped feast of smooth parfait. Instead I chose marrowbone, circa 1720, accompanied by parsley, anchovy and mace and pickled vegetables (right).

I was evidently so carried away with the main course I forgot to photograph it! I had a recipe dating from 1830 of roast turbot with cockle ketchup and chicory. And chips. Because here you are allowed to have chips and it's not a disgrace: also butter. I was recently at another place where the waiter snootily informed me they didn't provide butter "for health reasons." Unbelievably pompous given that a lot of people (myself included) only indulge in butter when we're in a restaurant.

Anyway, I digress. For pudding it had to be the baked lemon suet pudding, circa 1630, (left), with lemon, caramel and Jersey cream. To be honest, this was the most disappointing course. I remembered suet puddings from childhood being quite light. This had more the texture of pastry than sponge. I wished I'd perhaps had tipsy cake or summer tart instead.

With pudding we had a delicious rosebud tea. Instead of the usual menu of dessert wines and coffees, we were offered a tea menu. It reminded me of the challenge on The Apprentice where they had to source camomile flower tea and were offered a crate of it for £900. To the credit of the Dinner waitress, she explained that the most expensive tea was quite smokey and a definitely acquired taste. Such honesty is rare in the pursuit of filthy lucre. The rose tea, fat with rosebuds, was wonderfully delicate, and they refill the pot with hot water as many times as you like.

So - Dinner with Heston. So good I will go back with J, very soon. Or as soon as we can get a reservation. It is booked solid for months.

Gail's Top 10 Restaurants (with links to my blog where I reviewed them)
1. Gidleigh Park, Devon
2. Dinner by Heston
3. Scott's
4. Caldesi in Campagna, Bray
5. TheWolseley
6. Le Manoir aux Quat' Saisons
7. The Orrery
8. Benares
9. Hix Oyster & Chop House
10. E4

Some flotsam and jetsam

2011-05-22T14:40:00.002+01:00

Hoorah for Princess Beatrice!
Showing the judgment and humour that has sadly eluded her parents all their life, Princess Beatrice has sold her much maligned RW hat on eBay, to raise money for charity. Could it be that Beatrice is going to show common sense and realism, in spite of her parents? Only a few days ago, Sarah, Duchess of York, was still spouting incomprehensible psycho-babble. "If I had a brand identity, it would be as a global mother." ??? Beatrice said she hoped whoever bought the hat would have as much fun with it as she had.

And hoorah for Twitter while we're about it
So many amusing tweets about the Premiership footballer and his affair with a Big Brother wannabe. There was talk that Ryan Giggs' solicitors were going to sue the 30,000 people on Twitter who had breached the Super Injunction (yep, that includes me). Another wag wrote that Ryan Giggs appears to be the only celebrity not being sued by the "mystery Premiership footballer".

I can't imagine the US owners of Twitter are quaking in their boots knowing that a few plummy English lawyers are apoplectic about their new cash cow, the Super Injunction, being proved worthless. What can they actually do? They can hardly force the closure of Twitter. I for one am laughing at the way we, the good old British public, is having a laugh at the foibles of a foolish man who tried to cover up his folly by splashing the cash.

The unpredictable nature of cosmetic surgery
No wonder Sarah Jessica Parker has said she won't have cosmetic surgery because she doesn't want to end up looking mad. This week's photos of Marie Helvin, who has always maintained she's had nothing done (yeah, right) show her starting to look somewhat deranged. You'd think that with access to the best plastic surgeons that California has to offer, some of the maturing filmstars wouldn't look quite so dreadful. Faye Dunaway, for example, or Melanie Griffith (although thankfully she is a little more restrained these days). It seems a bit of a lottery. You can either look wonderful, like Jane Fonda, Sharon Stone or Demi Moore, or rather weird, like Madonna, Cher, the Bride of Wildenstein and Ivana Trump. It's a pity they don't have a ratings system, like guest houses or Trip Advisor. Maybe that's a great idea for a new website.

From Vanda to Valderma

2011-05-20T20:34:00.000+01:00

I was whiling away an hour, not drunkenly like Morrissey, but playing a favourite game which is: Googling nostalgic names from childhood.

It usually starts with long forgotten beauty products that dimly ring a bell. For example: Anne French cleansing lotion, which was the first cleanser I ever used. You can still buy it and it's cheap as chips. That got me thinking about Anne French Glow 5, a face mask. And then a luxury brand that disappeared in the early 80s, Charles of the Ritz. My first ever eye cream, bought in Exmouth, was a Charles of the Ritz.

Then I looked up Vanda Beauty Counselor. (One L, it's American). Goodness knows how I remember this, but when I was about seven, I heard my mum saying that one of the neighbours was a rep for Vanda Beauty Counselor. I have Googled them previously and it was as if it was a figment of my imagination. But they must have got Internet savvy fairly recently because I found them! (Very poor website by the way and unlike Avon they don't sell online: you still have to see the rep).

Next up was old perfumes - discontinued ones. I'm obsessed. My mum's favourite was Memoire Cherie by Elizabeth Arden. Then they come in rapid succession: Yardley Prelude (I bought her a Prelude talc from the local chemist when I was about 10), Helena Rubinstein Apple Blossom, Avon Elusive, Moonwind and Occur! (I just loved the exclamation mark).

From scent to soap, and I was thrilled to find you can still buy Valderma and Cidal soaps, which I tried as a teenager to get rid of spots. But not Albion Milk of Sulphur Soap. Lemon Delph cleanser has long since disappeared, as has Linco Beer shampoo (do you remember, it came in a barrel?).

I mentioned all this to my mum - we're frequently texting - and she challenged me to find a drink that my Gran was very partial to. "Odds on Cocktail." I found an ad for it. It's always a bit of a eureka moment, isn't it? Whatever did we do without the Internet?

In search of a grubbing mattock

2011-05-14T17:34:00.000+01:00

A "before" shot

When we bought our house six years ago, the back garden didn't need too much attention. The previous owners obviously knew their stuff and had created a wide border with a few trees and shrubs to shelter the garden, a decking area and a small lawn.

After

Gradually though the trees had become too big - particularly two awful leylandii - and part of the garden was subsequently always in shade. Ivy was rampant, no matter how much we tried to hack it back. So we decided to rip everything out.

Quite a shock when it finally happened. It's amazing how much bigger the garden looks. But also very bare and unwelcoming. The fence in particular is suddenly exposed, without its ivy coat, and looks ghastly.

The plan is to keep it fallow for a year, except for planting two trees in the autumn. Two small trees: I'm thinking an apple tree and a medlar.

In the meantime we'll be building up the soil and removing the ivy as it reappears. Which requires a special implement. Today J was on a mission: he wanted to get a grubbing mattock (which I was mistakenly calling a grubbing matlock, as in Glen Matlock from the Sex Pistols). We visited B&Q, Homebase and Focus, but no such tool to be found. It eventually turned up in Wickes. Resembling a pickaxe, it was used by the professionals when they removed the roots.

Rose "Scepter'd Isle" from front garden

I'd love to create an English cottage garden, with delphiniums, lupins, hollyhocks, stocks, Sweet William, lobelia at the front. I'm also very taken with Monty Don's "jewel garden." And for me, you can never have too many roses. Our front border is looking splendid with the rose bushes groaning with blooms. Example on the left. Those roses are all pink, but in memory of my dad Stamps, I would like to acquire an old rose he loved, a red rose called "Ena Harkness," and plant it at the back.

Leave Eugenie and Beatrice alone

2011-05-04T12:45:00.001+01:00

Will it ever stop? The endless jokes and tittle tattle about Princesses Eugenie and Beatrice, ever since they wore slightly less than flattering outfits (Eugenie) and headgear (Beatrice) at the Royal Wedding last week.

Today hatter Philip Treacy justifies the title "mad as...." by defending Beatrice's titfer.

The wretched hat has several Facebook sites.

Jibes about the hat are more or less fairly benign and humorous. But I imagine the girls - both very young - are hurt by the comments about their oufits and everything else that has been coming under attack. They both wore sensational outfits at the party following the wedding. Eugenie in particular looked stunning in a corseted black Vivienne Westwood number.

Eugenie in another shocker

Remember we've all made style faux pas, particularly in our 20s. I've shared photos of mine on this very blog. So give the girls a break. The last thing we want is that they get lumbered with hideous complexes as their poor mother was. My only advice to the girls would be to find another milliner. One with their best interests at heart.

Fletcherising and fossils

2011-05-02T08:06:00.002+01:00

The Internet has been an absolute gift to me as an inveterate searcher of trivia and facts. I'm able to satisfy any cravings for knowledge at the click of a mouse, and with my trusty smartphone, can even do it in the middle of the night as has been known.

Last night, for some reason, I remembered an elderly man I once interviewed when I was working as a gauche young reporter at BBC Radio Devon. His name was Edwin Beer and he was over 100. His great age, and the secrets of longevity, was the reason for the interview.

He was the first to use the disabled lift at our newish Exeter headquarters and was a fantastic raconteur. He told me that the secret to his longevity - and he was the second oldest man in Britain when he died at age 107 in 1986 - was Fletcherising.

This is the practice of chewing your food 32 times before swallowing, made popular in the early 1930s by Horace Fletcher.

Well, having remembered Edwin Beer, I began feverishly searching the web to see what I could learn about him. To start with I wasan't doing very well. There was a famous urologist called Edwin Beer and a famous sculptor called Edwin Beer Fishley. But recalling that he had told me he was involved with the invention of the fake silk, rayon, I broadened my search and found a reference to him at the Devon county council website, where it named a book he wrote in 1968, The Beginning of Rayon: Corrigenda and Supplement.

Knowing now that his full name was Edwin John Beer, formerly of Paignton, I discovered an article from an issue of Geology Today in 1989 which described the Edwin Beer Collection.

Leicester University had become the lucky recipient of a large collection of geological specimens. The collection was formed over a long period by Edwin Beer (1879 - 1986) and was donated by his widow Phoebe. "Beer had led an active and eventful life. He was by profession a chemist and was a pioneer in perfecting the process for making artificial fibres."

Searching Leicester University turned up no additional clues. My search on Edwin Beer's remarkable life seems to have ended for the time, with no photographs gleaned. Stay tooned for the next instalment.

10 MINUTES LATER
I've just bought the book for £6.50 on ebay!

The story behind our bank holidays

2011-05-01T08:18:00.000+01:00

As we prepare for another bank holiday tomorrow, I was musing on the history of bank holidays.

May Day may have its roots in ancient pagan rites of spring, but its place in the calendar as a bank holiday is fairly modern. It was the creation of Michael Foot in 1978. Britain was one of the last countries in Europe to celebrate May Day. It's a big deal in other countries. When I lived in Munich, I enjoyed the May Day revels in a town called Wolfratshauzen. Everyone dressed in leiderhausen and a good number of steins were consumed.

Bavaria has some of the most elaborate maypole traditions. Trees are cut down a day or two before the festival, stripped of bark and polished. Sometimes soap is added to make them extra slick. Men then race up these 40-foot poles to retrieve pretzels and sausages hanging from the top. The climbers can only apply ash, pinesap or tar to their hands to get a better grip.
Bavarian villagers also try to steal another town's maypole while protecting their own. If a maypole is stolen, it is held for ransom until the victimized village offers kegs of beer for its safe return.

Each village has its own community maypole which is decorated with icons signifying the history and main occupation of the region - for example brewing. The poles are fierecely guarded because if a neighbouring village "steals" your flagpole, the penalty is having to buy everyone a drink.

The future of our own May Day is looking doubtful. The government is considering scrapping the May Day Bank Holiday and creating a new public holiday in April or October.

The second bank holiday in May, now referred to as "Spring bank holiday", always used to be known as Whitsun when I was a child.

Whitsun, old English for "White Sunday", is the forty-ninth day (seventh Sunday) after Easter Sunday. In the Christian calendar, it is also known as Pentecost -commemorating the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the disciples.

A little-known fact about bank holidays is that there is a fixed number of them - six in England plus the public holidays of Christmas and Boxing Day - and we don't have an automatic right to paid leave on these days. Any right to time off or extra pay for working on a bank holiday depends on the terms of your contract of employment. That's why small businesses tend to get quite annoyed when "new" bank holidays are granted, like the one on Friday for the Royal; Wedding, and everyone assumes it's another day off.

When the usual date of a bank or public holiday falls on a Saturday or Sunday, a 'substitute day' is given, normally the following Monday. For example in 2009, Boxing Day was on Saturday, 26 December, so there was a substitute bank holiday on Monday, 28 December. This doesn't always happen in other countries. In Germany, they often have a bad year for public holidays when they all fall at the weekend. They don't then get a day off in lieu. Unusually bad organisation for the Germans!

Next year the late May bank holiday will be moved to Monday 4 June 2012 and an additional Jubilee bank holiday will be on Tuesday 5 June 2012.

Myrtle and tiaras: the count down to the royal wedding

2011-04-26T12:45:00.001+01:00

Myrtle

Even the most cynical of us is now looking forward to Friday's royal wedding. I have to say, until fairly recently, I found Prince William and Kate Middleton very dull and would quickly turn the pages in Hello! looking for more interesting royals (eg Princess Stephanie of Monaco).

But since the engagement was announced, they seem to have stepped it up a notch. I'm very impressed with how confident and polished Kate looks. And the constant TV programming about royal weddings is helping to stoke the fervour.

I particularly enjoyed Sophie Raworth's two part programme. I was amazed that so few photos remain from the Queen Mother's wedding. And I loved the Queen's Hartnell dress with all the amazing detail. Part two, which featured the weddings of Charles & Diana, Anne & Mark and Andrew & Sarah, was illuminating in that all of those marriages ended in divorce.

With the benefit of hindsight you could see that Charles & Diana's marriage was never going to last. The body language was excrutiating, particularly compared with how relaxed and supportive William and Catherine were of each other.

Now for a few curious facts about the Friday wedding:

Kate will carry a sprig of myrtle in her bouquet, a tradition for royal brides. The meaning of the flower is love.
She will probably place her bouquet on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Westminster Abbey, a tradition started by the Queen Mother;
When she arrives at the abbey she will not be wearing one of the royal collection of tiaras, but as soon as she is married, the Queen may make her a gift of a tiara. The Duchess of York wore flowers on her way up the aistle, and a tiara on the way out. Diana had her own Spencer family tiara. It's thought Kate might inherit one of the Queen Mary tiaras. If you Google this, you'll see that Queen Mary had several. My favourite is the Cambridge knot tiara made in 1913 (right). It included 38 pearls that were a wedding gift to Queen Mary.
She won't enjoy the bride's tradition of arriving late. A royal wedding is so tightly choreographed she may only be allowed to be 30 seconds late
After her marriage to Prince William of Wales, Kate Middleton's title will be Her Royal Highness Princess William of Wales. On the engagement announcement, Kate used her full name, Catherine. So she will likely be known as Princess Catherine of Wales. If Prince William receives a dukedom following the marriage, she will be known as Duchess as well as Her Royal Highness.

How are you planning to mark the day? Will you be watching on TV, having a champagne celebration or even going to a street party?

Two bluebell woods for the price of one

2011-04-24T18:30:00.000+01:00

Every Easter or thereabouts we take a stroll to a wonderful bluebell wood. We made the trip today and unfortunately the bluebells were past their best. But J is nothing if not resourceful, and he had another bluebell wood up his sleeve. There the bluebells were in better shape (and we saw some rabbits.)

Hasn't it been a wonderful bank holiday weekend? The best Easter weather on record.

Blood sweat and tears

2011-04-20T18:01:00.001+01:00

The 2011 London Marathon was hot. Too hot for many of the runners. Even the spectators got a bit hot under the collar. But it was all in a day's work for J as he ran his 23rd marathon (and eighth London Marathon).

As in previous years, I was fortunate to be able to park my shooting stick at one of the elite runners' drinks stations, manned by John's running club The Orion Harriers.

Opposite St Paul's church in Shadwell, this is a perfect position because not only do I get an unobscured view, but I see the runners twice.

The first task for the marshalls was opening the box of drinks and setting them out on the right tables and in the right order. The elite runners have their own special bottles, some decorated, some with a gel attached, some only half full. Here's one of the most attractive bottles (left).

The elites run past at such speed it's quite difficult for them to grab their drink as they barely pause, but very few bottles were dropped.

The elite runners dealt with, it was time for the "ordinary" runners, in their thousands. J trains diligently for the marathon, six days a week, and his training includes hill running and speed work. He tests gels, different shoes (and socks: he was wearing his long compression socks) and anything that will help him to the elusive Personal Best. This year he also lost quite a lot of weight. Every pound counts.

It all paid off. Not a PB this year because of the weather, but nonetheless, J still finished in the top 200 for his age group. Here he is at looking remarkably fresh, indicating that another Orion runner was not far behind (Kym).

When we saw him for the second time, at 35km, he was lively enough to spray us all with water he'd been keeping for the purpose.

Having escorted him on many of the world's top marathons, including Berlin, Paris, Toronto, New York, Chicago and Boston, I can say hand on heart that London is the best. The most spectators; the most noise and eencouragement; the most friendly atmosphere. There's nothing to beat it. So well done to all the runners, including the ones who really struggled in the heat, and see you all next year! (And before you ask, I will still be snapping and not running!).

The constancy of a cat (or dog)

2011-04-09T09:06:00.000+01:00

This weekend my brother's family is welcoming a tiny kitten, Leo, into their home. And it got me thinking about how having a dog or cat is a delight that never changes. When we had Holly, our first cat, and I was nine, the experience was no different than it was when Molly came along in 2005. Each cat has its own character and personality, but the experience of having a cat is exactly the same.

They don't get stroppy or have an iPhone pressed constantly to their ear, or moan about austerity measures. They don't complain they didn't get a big enough pay rise, or that they're being bullied on Facebook. They just bring us joy and remind us of the simple things. Like basking in the sun, or on top of a warm radiator in the winter.

The Agony and the Ecstasy

2011-03-22T17:24:00.000Z

I've been enjoying the BBC 4 series "The Agony and the Ecstasy - a Year with English National Ballet."

It's been a real eye-opener.

A lot of the dancers earn £23k or less and it's such a hard life. They are forever rehearsing and being corrected by their repetiteurs. Injuries are rife, some of them career threatening.We met a male dancer, aged 36, who was still a soloist and desperate to advance, but probably in the autumn of his career. He was returning after injury and dancing in a new production of Romeo and Juliet along with Max, aged 20, who had been chosen for his first lead role as Romeo. A poignant contrast.

Both men had to dance several roles in the one production, because ENB is short of dancers and starved of funds. The new govt has already imposed cuts of 7%, equating to just under £500k. ENB could save this if it stopped touring. Every tour costs £100,000 just to start with. But, in a catch 22, they would then lose their Arts Council funding which is given for touring. It's very sad. So they have to cut down on the number of dancers or skimp on their productions, maybe doing fewer of the big classical extravaganzas.

I have loved ballet for years, although it got off to a bad start. The deputy editor on the Plymouth newspaper where I was a trainee reporter threw some complimentary tickets at me for "La Fille Mal Gardee" in the big top. I took my mum; it was the first ballet we had ever seen, and we hated it. Fortunately we tried again with "Manon" and this was much more to our liking. We have since always hated any "Freds" (Frederich Asheton) as they tend to involve nymphs, fauns and dancing bears. We have seen the Kirov (Maryinsky), our favourites; the Bolshoi, the Royal Ballet of course and various touring companies. I saw the first ballet to be performed on the tiny stage of Swindon's Wyvern Theatre, a modern production which brought forth titters in the audience.

I saw Rudolf Nureyev twice. Both times he was over the hill, but what a performer! He obviously lived for the acclaim. Unforgettable.

I would loved to have seen the great Nijinsky (not the horse) - the subject of a recent post. No footage exists, surprisingly, as there is footage of Anna Pavlova.

The Agony and the Ecstasy is on tonight - check it out on iPlayer.

Brands that make you shudder: 1. Boden

2011-03-21T09:09:00.000Z

Boden. Online purveyors of strangely shaped 'fun' skirts and embellished cardigans to the chattering white middle classes of the UK.

Their marketing makes your teeth curl.

As if it wasn't bad enough that the ferocious Mumsnet group invited their members to a meet with the dress code "Boden", we now see that "Johnnie" - the MD who infuriatingly emails you as if he's known you all his life - has created a Boden community with blogs and aimless chit chat.

As you might imagine, all the Bodenettes who have signed up so far have sickly sweet little names like Passion Flower and Secret Star, and they're all busily exchanging tips about cup cake makers, flowery pinnies and villas where you can take the kids.

Now I do possess a few items of Boden clothing, but I order a lot fewer these days, ever since they started posting reader reviews. Now you can save yourself the trouble of ordering a skirt or dress and being mystified by its cut, a classic Boden problem, because you can read about it before you order.

But I don't buy into the sugary halcyon image that Boden likes to portray. The whole thing is a bit creepy. Boden women have straight figures with no waist or bust. Notice how nothing is ever vaguely low cut because surely that would be offensive to the children. The label is now aiming for global domination, with various new lines including a less garish women's line and kids' clothes. And, I hear, they're targeting the US.

I suppose I should say "respect" to Johnnie as he seems to have hit the magic formula for reaching a particular demographic, but unfortunately the whole thing just makes me shudder.

Back to the 70s

2011-03-12T14:30:00.001Z

I went clothes shopping last Saturday and was pleasantly surprised. I saw so many clothes I could buy. So many colours I liked. It was not my experience of the previous two years, when I despaired of finding anything to wear. Those empire line tops and dresses, baggy tunics, cigar pants and harem pants, did nothing for me.

The new season trends of florals, colour blocking, all-white, stripes and "70s vibe" are very much me. Perhaps not the colour blocking. And really I shouldn't do florals, though I can't resist (occasionally) a floral dress or skirt (I found a divine floral skirt in Coast - left).

The discovery of Biba, exclusive to House of Fraser, was a revelation. I loved everything! Which I didn't when Biba was an iconic brand in the 70s. It seemed a bit hippy-esque then. I bought a high-waisted skirt (left) and a ruffle shirt, (below right) although I am less convinced now about the shirt.

But not only is Biba back. The Times reports today that Chelseas Girl, which used to be as ubiquitous on the UK high street as, um, Dorothy Perkins or TopShop, is also coming back. It became River Island a few years ago and they are launching a new Chelsea Girl range of vintage fashions for young girls who like vintage but not the price tags or fusty old smell that goes with it.

Today's Times also carries a glum piece about the challenges of wearing the latest waist-high (or higher!) flared jeans. We have been resisting them for a few years, apparently, and sticking to our low-rise jeans, but now the high waisted jean is de rigeur.

The writer was very pessimistic about them though, saying you have to be very tall and very thin. Phooey. In my youth, flared jeans and trousers were everywhere; the bigger the flare the better. I remember being awe struck when my 15 year old best friend, Susan Payne, produced a pair of cream trousers that had the biggest flare I had ever seen (to this day). Our jeans were by Brutus, Lee, Levi, Lee Cooper and Easy. And they are easier to wear than low rise, where a muffin top inescapably falls out over the top.

Wedge shoes, gipsy tops and big floppy hats are also back, which makes me a little nostalgic, but also suspicious, because didn't I once read that if you wore a fashion first time round, you shouldn't do it when it comes round again? What do you think - will you be embracing the 70s revival or giving it a wide berth?

Respect to Kate Middleton as she doggedly rejects the fashionistas

2011-03-01T10:44:00.001Z

I wasn't too keen on Kate Middleton at the start. She seemed a bit vapid, too suiting of the "Waity Katie" epithet the press gave her. Even when she did work, her family's business - party "stuff" for kids - seemed very superficial, encouraging the oneupmanship of middle class parents and their infernal party bags.

But, a few months into the engagement, I'm thinking that Kate rocks!

The snooty fashionistas have been dishing out advice. She needs to get a stylist; she should cut her hair; she should stop wearing fascinators, and she should stop wearing knee length black boots. Even Vivienne Westwood stepped in and said Kate wasn't fashionable enough to wear her clothes (sour grapes if ever I heard them, because she hasn't been invited to design The Dress.)

But Kate has doggedly resisted all this "advice." On her first official appearance last week she not only wore a fascinator, but a coat she had had shortened (a five year old coat, gasp!) and her favourite knee length boots. She looked happy and serene, not anxious or nervous as most of us would look in such a situation.

I think she will do for the fascinator what Kate Moss has done for the trilby. And who's to say Kate Moss is any more trendy than Kate is, apart from a clutch of bitchy male designers and middle-aged magazine fashion editors?

She has fabulous hair and skin and a great figure, and looks a great advert for the "English Rose." And I loved the way she wore Reiss in her engagement picture. That white dress looked amazing and we would all have thought it was designer if we hadn't been told. The Issa dress she wore for the big announcement was also a great choice. Expensive, but not in the realms of fantasy. And it suits every figure, so replicas have been appearing in the shops and everyone can feel good about it.

I think Kate is going to be a very canny lass. You won't see her splashing the cash on unncessary items like £1,000+ "IT" bags. She will spend money when it's important, like beautiful evening gowns for state occasions, but she will continue to mix designer with high street. I look forward to seeing her style journey evolve, preferably without the help of a "stylist." And Kate, although you don't listen to advice, one word of advice from me. Don't get too skinny!

Winter begone - the daffodils are here

2011-02-27T10:26:00.000Z

Daffodils by Ted Hughes

The Tete-a-Tetes in my garden

Remember how we picked the daffodils?
Nobody else remembers, but I remember.
Your daughter came with her armfuls, eager and happy,

Helping the harvest. She has forgotten.
She cannot even remember you. And we sold them.
It sounds like sacrilege, but we sold them.
Were we so poor? Old Stoneman, the grocer,
Boss-eyed, his blood-pressure purpling to beetroot
(It was his last chance,
He would die in the same great freeze as you) ,
He persuaded us. Every Spring
He always bought them, sevenpence a dozen,
'A custom of the house'.

Besides, we still weren't sure we wanted to own
Anything. Mainly we were hungry
To convert everything to profit.
Still nomads-still strangers
To our whole possession. The daffodils
Were incidental gilding of the deeds,
Treasure trove. They simply came,
And they kept on coming.
As if not from the sod but falling from heaven.
Our lives were still a raid on our own good luck.
We knew we'd live forever. We had not learned
What a fleeting glance of the everlasting
Daffodils are. Never identified
The nuptial flight of the rarest epherma-
Our own days!
We thought they were a windfall.
Never guessed they were a last blessing.
So we sold them. We worked at selling them
As if employed on somebody else's
Flower-farm. You bent at it
In the rain of that April-your last April.
We bent there together, among the soft shrieks
Of their jostled stems, the wet shocks shaken
Of their girlish dance-frocks-
Fresh-opened dragonflies, wet and flimsy,
Opened too early.

We piled their frailty lights on a carpenter's bench,
Distributed leaves among the dozens-
Buckling blade-leaves, limber, groping for air, zinc-silvered-
Propped their raw butts in bucket water,
Their oval, meaty butts,
And sold them, sevenpence a bunch-

Wind-wounds, spasms from the dark earth,
With their odourless metals,
A flamy purification of the deep grave's stony cold
As if ice had a breath-

We sold them, to wither.
The crop thickened faster than we could thin it.
Finally, we were overwhelmed
And we lost our wedding-present scissors.

Every March since they have lifted again
Out of the same bulbs, the same
Baby-cries from the thaw,
Ballerinas too early for music, shiverers
In the draughty wings of the year.
On that same groundswell of memory, fluttering
They return to forget you stooping there
Behind the rainy curtains of a dark April,
Snipping their stems.

But somewhere your scissors remember. Wherever they are.
Here somewhere, blades wide open,
April by April
Sinking deeper
Through the sod-an anchor, a cross of rust.

Courtesy Poemhunter.com

May The Best House Win

2011-02-24T18:44:00.001Z

If you're looking for a TV show that will become BIG, then look no further than "May the Best House Win." Hidden in the afternoon TV schedule on ITV, it's a reworking of the successful Come Dine With Me format.

Four strangers visit each other's homes and secretly score them, leaving comments for the owners. The winning house wins £1,000. I have taken to recording it (although it doesn't seem to be on this week).

What's fascinating about it is not just the glimpse of other people's homes, but the way the houses are scored.

You might think that the immaculate stylish homes decorated in the manner of magazines, with gleaming kitchens and minimalist design, would win every time. But quite often they are soundly beaten by lived-in houses that the contestants usually describe as "having more character."

To give you a couple of examples, a young eco warrior's barn house was the winning house. And I don't mean a barn conversion. He literally lived in a barn with no luxuries: just a bed, a composting toilet and a rudimentary kitchen. But he won because he was enjoying his home and living a carefree, truly green existence.

Then we saw a wonderful but terrifyingly weird fantasy home, the work of a Cornish artist. Called the Pink Chapple, it was a confection of pink themed around Alice in Wonderland; immensely cluttered and like something out a fairy tale. But it scored highly because it reflected the owner's whimsical personality.

A home last week that must have cost millions, which was featured in Footballer's Wives and sported lots of marble, chandeliers and a swimming pool with fountains, was not deemed homely and didn't win.

Then there was the stunning, architect designed house in Cornwall with amazing sea views. It did come first, but joint first with a tiny terraced house filled with home-made cushions and pictures.

This sort of programme gets you thinking about your own abode. We have been in our house for nearly six years and every year we tackle a big project. Unfortunately these have tended to be boring - eg painting the exterior; replacing the central heating; putting in a drive. This year is no exception: the project is replacing the 30 year old lean-to, which leaks like a sieve. But I am determined to make improvements to the dining room and living room, albeit on a shoestring budget.

It's quite tough to get J to buy into my choices, even though he has to admit that the pink and green bedroom worked very well. He is very conservative. He has already instructed "no more distressed furniture" but I was at great pains to persuade him that the proposed dining room table, while white in colour, has not been distressed in the least. I will struggle to get the multi coloured chandelier past him.

How do you approach decorating and what's your style?

A life spent dieting

2011-02-20T20:18:00.001Z

It's sad but true. Looking at my online calorie counting guru, Nutracheck, and idly pinging up random data, I found that I first used the site in 2006. For the last five years, the depressing yoyo pattern presents itself: January: start diet to lose half a stone in time for June holiday. June: succeed (phew). September: weight going up. December: oh no....! And this year it was worse, a whole stone to lose, and currently slow progress, barely a pound a week, despite keeping rigidly to the calorie count, exercising and imbibing cidar vinegar in water.

Kim Cattrall recently said she is permanently on a diet, but at least with Kim you can see the visible results of that Herculean struggle. Like most women I am constantly trying to cast off a stone, or half a stone. I guess I'm lucky in that when I was young, children weren't under pressure to diet like they are today. I was a thin child but as a teenager I was a size 14 (US 10) and conscious that I couldn't wear certain clothes. It didn't cause me any angst until the night of the leaving school party, when a teacher and someone else made a reference to my weight, which caused me to storm off early and start my first diet.

I already knew all about dieting because my mother was always on one. In those days, diets were Limmits or Bisk meal replacement biscuits, that looked a bit like Chappie dog biscuits; PLJ, a very sharp lemon drink, and Ayds, squares of toffee that were supposed to have magical weight loss powers. She also bought Slimming Magazine which I would pore over, becoming very knowledgeable at a young age about calories, metabolism and the wisdom of Professor John Yudkin.

I remember that I ate a lot of sild on toast in that first diet, and that I very quickly lost half a stone. My friends came to meet me to go to Wood's (the nightclub de jour) and gasped when they saw my reveal. I suddenly had a waist, which I had proudly cinched in with a wide pink belt.

Over the years I have tried many diets. The F Plan, with that sawdust-like "fibre filler", pease pudding and Granny Ann biscuits. Atkin's, which left me revolted after six weeks of meat, cream, sugar free jelly and no fruit and veg. South Beach. Perricone. More recently, Dukan, which is like Atkins but with a little fruit and veg, and the "Spent Diet," for the exhausted, which had such an overwhelming list of must buy's, none of it readily available, that a person would feel even more exhausted.

And of course, the only thing that works is eating less and exercising more, whether you do it with low carbs, high protein, low GI, Weightwatchers or calorie counting.

I finally cracked it in 2004 when I lost two and a half stone and got to a UK size 12 (US eight) which is where I am happiest. Since then, I have largely kept it off, but foolishly allowed a few too many pounds to creep up after the wedding last year, so now I am battling with a stone. Two pounds off this week, hurrah!

It's depressing how it has become our way of life. For me, I wake up happy when I am dieting. There's no guilt, unlike when I eat the "bad" things I love, like cheese, quiche, crisps or Scotch eggs. But I dread going into restaurants lest I am tempted, as the prospect of fish with vegetables is never very appealing. Today was a good day. A pub lunch, but my king prawn salad turned out to be a very low calorie option (no dressing) and so I had enough calories in the bank to savour some "real" food this evening. What are your dieting stories? Can anyone honestly say they have never dieted?

A few basics of online marketing

2011-02-08T15:36:00.000Z

I buy nearly everything on line. I hate going into shops. Holidays, clothes, flights, groceries, books, cosmetics, you name it. So I'm quite a savvy online shopper, and know what makes a good site. If a site is bad - slow, cumbersome and badly designed, or allowing you to order without having goods in stock - then I don't go back to it.

A couple of things really annoy me because they are so basic.

The first is that you're prompted to go to a website by a newsletter, flyer or magazine article. But then you can't find the items you're interested in: they're not in stock and there's no facility to ask to be notified when they're back in stock. A flyer for a company called AWear.com fell out of Grazia today. I liked the look of some of the new trends. You would think that seeing as Grazia comes out on Tuesdays, AWear would have been ready for some interest. I searched for two of the items. Neither came up. I discovered that the Harriet skirt, shown in camel in the flyer, was only available in navy or black. As for the pin tuck military shirt in sand, well, the search using its reference number delivered no results, and I couldn't see the shirt in the gallery.

Which makes me think AWear is guilty of the second thing I hate: failing to update their website at the same time as a promotional campaign goes live.

I had another example of this last week. I received a brochure in the post for Peony, whose silk flowers my mum likes. She adores bluebells, so when I saw their new spring collection featured bluebells, I went immediately to their website, only to find it still featured the winter range and bluebells there were none.

I emailed them and they replied that the website was being updated "as we speak." Perhaps I would like to ring through with my order instead? No way Jose. I would never give my credit card details to a stranger. Believe it or not, computers are far safer if you keep them up-to-date with security and virus software, and don't fall for silly scams.

Now that we're all used to shopping online for everything, we've come to expect the highest standards. Delivery on a nominated day is vital. Who can take time off work to sit in all day, on the off-chance? Here I must single out Laura Ashley. Not only do they give you a definite time slot, their delivery people ring you on the way to your house to let you know they'll be here in xx minutes. Then they unpack the item so that you can inspect it (and return it there and then) and they don't inflict all the packaging on you. Now that's the sort of service all online retailers should aspire to.

A few of my favourite things

2011-02-05T15:03:00.001Z

1. Reading the bulb catalogue in winter
2. Decent cup of tea after a trip abroad.
3. Making a playlist.
4. My Radio 4 podcasts.
5. The anticipation around programmes like Strictly Come Dancing.
6. Getting dressed up on holiday.
7. Blue sky and sunshine on a cold winter's day.
8. Bluebell wood.
9. Looking at the menu in a restaurant.
10. The first stocks of summer.
11. The first morning in your holiday destination.

The Tragedy of the Nijinskys

2011-02-01T08:55:00.002Z

As the title of my blog would suggest, I am an inveterate collector of facts and curios. A few years ago I read a review of a new book about the legendary dancer and choreographer Vaslav Nijinsky. Reader, I bought the book, and a great many others about him, and if I were ever to appear on Mastermind, this would be my specialist subject.

Another famous Nijinsky

I have just finished a biography by his daughter Tamara. If she is still alive, she is 91 years old. She barely knew her father. His brief brilliant career ended when he was in his 20s and went mad. For the rest of his life he lived in asylums.

Nijinsky's life was tragic, but reading Tamara's book, I was transfixed by the tragedy of the Nijinsky women. This would make a fascinating film in itself.

Polish born Nijinsky, variously described in books as shy and sullen, transformed himself when he applied his make-up and elaborate costumes and danced. Although no footage exists, he was capable of remarkable feats of dancing and could apparently hang in the air as he performed entre chats. He was also a skilled mime and actor.

His lover was the famous impresario Diaghilev, who made his charge world famous as they travelled the world with the Ballets Russe.

Diaghilev was terrified of water so he didn't join the company on a long cruise to South America. And that was where Romola de Pulzsky, an ambitious socialite, the daughter of a famous Hungarian actress, saw her opportunity.

She relentlessly pursued Nijinsky, and, although they didn't have a language in common, succeeded in marrying him before the end of the voyage.

Diaghilev was stunned (as was the world) and Nijinsky's career took a deep nose dive. The first of his two daughters was born, Kyra, and he and Romola were trapped in Hungary at the start of the First World War. He then lost his mind, writing his famous diary as he did so.

Romola never gave up on a cure for her husband, or on trying to keep the legend of Nijinsky alive. She tirelessly roamed the world, serving lawsuits and meeting impressarios, trying to get books and films produced.

The tomb in Montmartre

Nijinsky died in 1950 and was buried first in London and then later interred in Montmartre, Paris.

Romola continued to try to get her mother's villa back from the Hungarian government and to get Mikhail Baryshnikov cast in a film abnout Nijinsky. Meanwhile she was scarcely speaking to her mother or either of her daughters, now living in America, and they weren't speaking to each other. Tamara was estranged from her own daughter Kinga for years on end.

When Romola died, she was buried in a different country to her husband when she had desperately wanted to be buried with him. Tamara didn't go to her funeral.

Her dream of a film about Nijinsky was fulfilled in 1980, two years after her death, but it was horrendous and sank without trace. Baryshnikov was not in it.

She would have been happy to have been at London's V&A museum recently. An exhibition about the life and times of Diaghilev featured many original drawings and costumes of Nijinsky, and these drew the largest crowds. His legend still lives on.In April I will see his famous ballet, L'Apres Midi D'Un Faun for the fourth time in London in a Diaghilev Festival, plus the role he made synonymous, Le Spectre de la Rose (top).

Further reading
Nijinsky: Richard Buckle. The definitive biography.
The Diary of Vaslav Nijinsky
Nijinsky, a Leap Into Madness: Peter Ostwald. A modern study of Nijinsky's madness and how it would be treated now.
Romola and Vaslav: Tamara Nijinsky
Early Memoirs: Bronislava Nijinska. His sister's autobiography which portrays a different Vaslav, mischievious and fun loving.

Tea and Toast

2011-01-25T13:47:00.000Z

I am fortunate enough to be in the sunshine this week, albeit on business. Yes it's the annual sales and marketing conference, this time in Anaheim, California. I won't tell you about the conference as it's all Top Secret, but I will let you in on the tea and toast situation.

As we all know, there is nothing better than a Nice Cup of Tea and a Sitdown. So every morning, ridiculously early, my colleagues and I report to the ballroom for breakfast.

The mostly veteran waiting staff attempt to herd us in a certain way, which has given reign to military speak about digging in and not advancing forward.

We then proceed to the lines of buffet: scrambled egg, eggs benedict, ham, cereal, oatmeal (as porridge is called) and waffles. But no toast.

Back at the table, we ask for toast. On the first day a glorious plate of toast arrived, enough for everyone. Hurrah! But yesterday, just two slices.

Meanwhile we have put our request in for tea.

Yesterday it arrived, nice colour, and we were all happy. Until we tasted it. Cinnamon?! It was some sort of weird fruit tea. The waitress was very apologetic saying she had used the wrong tea bags, and was kind enough to make us a new pot. But sadly we were getting told to move ourselves to the arena so we hardly had time to drink it.

At least now we have two BKMs (best known methods): ask for toast for the table, and black tea also known as English breakfast tea,

See you soon!

It's snowed a bit, we're not prepared as always, get over it!

2010-12-21T08:19:00.000Z

I was getting increasingly irritable at the BBC footage from St Pancras station. The reporter was doing his utmost to provoke good natured passengers who had been waiting for hours in the cold.
"What do you think about the way the UK has handled this?" he probed relentlessly, but the charming Europeans refused to give way. "Has it ruined your Christmas?"

Every time a train breaks down, we're told by peevish passengers that the train company should have had space blankets and drinks on board. Well seeing as snow is entirely random, not guaranteed, and hits these islands for, oh, two weeks a year, tops, what about passengers being more prepared instead, on the off chance?

Then there are the airports.Yes they could all invest hugely in snow ploughs and de-icing rigs and goodness knows what else. But there isn't that much money sculling around, is there? Can you imagine if BAA did just that, and then their profits went down and there was no snow. The newspapers would of course have a field day, and start trotting off statistics about the likelihood of snow.

The last thing that really bugs me is when people start talking about Finland and other countries, and how well they prepare. Yes, they have winter tyres, snow chains, the full Monty. But they also know that they WILL get snow for several month. It's a dead cert. So they have to prepare for it. For us it's like a roulette wheel at Las Vegas.

Photos show those people made of sterner stuff, J's friends the Orion Harriers, on their Sunday run through Epping forest.

Strictly Come Dancing: The Glittering Finale

2010-12-18T11:09:00.000Z

Tonight our three finalists will emerge from the spray tanning booth for the last time, dripping in bling and dancing their little hearts out for the chance of lifting the very kitsch glitter ball trophy.

Kara Tointon was said to be the favourite on BBC Breakfast Time this morning, but really it's anyone's game. I can't remember a final where we have had three finalists of almost equal quality.

J is convinced that Tara will swing it. She is the most consistent and is the highest scorer overall. But I can see Pamela lifting that trophy.

Strange things happen in the final. Underdogs who were "ok" during the series but never blew us away, such as Chris Hollins and Tom Chambers, end up winning. The judges tend to give out tens to everyone, and it's up to the public to decide.

The good old public likes to go for an underdog. They prefer to vote for men. So Matt has a very good chance, given that he presents Country File and occasionally the One Show, and used to be on Blue Peter. He probably has a lot of the old dear vote.

The public also likes A Journey. So in terms of journey, Pamela has the best one. She's lost two stone, regained her va va voom, and looks fabulous at 61 to boot. Plus she was always so cheerful; always looking as if she loved the dancing, even in training.

So all Kara has going for her is being technically the best dancer. Is that enough to make the public vote for her? I don't think so. She hasn't had much of a journey: as I said before, dancing is probably in her blood, having been part of her stage school training, and she was always super fit. There's the hint of a romance with him and Artem, which gives her a few extra points with the public.

But at the risk of being wrong two weeks running, I'm going for Pamela to win. Although Matt could seize it too. I am a little nervous about Pamela's show dance, having seen the sketch of her dress on It Takes Two. A very conservative number, unlike Kara's which has been engineered for lifts galore. Tonight all will be revealed! (Not literally of course - the costume designers are far too skilled for that!).

Tree Spotting

2010-12-15T10:53:00.000Z

I'm intrigued by other people's Christmas trees. I love looking through open curtains to see a tree glinting away. If your tree has ancient heirloom ornaments, I am very jealous. Particularly if it has those half cut out retro baubles (you know the ones).

Our own tree went up at the weekend. Sadly there are no heirloom ornaments. I quite often decide on a new colour theme and buy accordingly. Last year I added red baubles to the gold. I have a second tree, a white one with either silver and blue, or neon bright, baubles, but this year it's staying in its box owing to the fact that my colour choices for the dining room will be red and gold, so it wouldn't match. (It's all very complicated.)

The only ornament that is vaguely heritage is the little bird which I bought about 10 years ago at the Kathe Wohlfarht Christmas shop in Oberammergau. Imagine, a shop that sells Christmas decorations all year round! It reminds me of a tiny bird we had on our tree when I was a child. That tree was in two sections and about 6 feet tall. The lights were huge coloured bulbs, some with a sugary effect. Mum gave the bottom section to Grandma, although it was a funny shape on its own, and for years the two parts of the tree were ceremoniously decorated in two separate houses in Plymouth. Our tree always had a very shabby fairy on top with a white crepe paper dress that had become beige over the years.

What's your Christmas tree like and what's your favourite ornament?

Strictly Come Dancing: Who goes? You decide

2010-12-12T08:36:00.001Z

An intriguing results show tonight as two couples are eliminated. I'm going to make the bold claim that Kara and Scott will be the celebrities finding the exit sign.

Based on the judges' scores, the two lowest scoring couples were Gavin and Katya and Matt and Aliona.

I suspect however that Gavin and Matt probably have more fans than anyone else in the contest (with the exception of Pamela, who has built a unique fan base) so I wouldn't be surprised if at least one of them stays. I would expect Scott to be the victim, and perhaps - here's a shocker - Kara.

She was the highest scorer and it will take a massive under performance by the public, but I still think it's possible, particularly if people who don't normally vote, like me, pick up the phone for their favourites. I actually voted for Matt last night because his routines have been thrilling, he's such a talented and nice guy, and the judges have under-scored him.

Scott peaked too soon and has been struggling to regain his form of three weeks ago. His Charleston was well executed but nothing exceptional. It won't hold in the memory in the way of the Chris Hollins / Ola Charleston, or even that of Pamela and James.

Kara is an interesting one. Having thrown herself the lifeline of an alleged romance with her partner, which always does well with the public, I still remain unmoved by her. To me, she looks like the product of a stage school background where dancing is a large part of the curriculum. She is an actress and very fit (she featured in a health magazine recently.) So her "journey", to use that dreaded word, was less challenging than that of farmer, presenter and former gymnast Matt, or former comedienne turned psychologist Pamela.

Pamela is a complete revelation. Every week she turns in sensational routines and every week she remains joyful. Even in training, we rarely see her slumped and depressed. In these ageist times where everyone over the age of 50 tends to be dismissed as past it, particularly by the BBC, I defy anyone to fail to be impressed by Pamela's energy, vivacity and youthfulness.

Only one graduate in Apprentice final five

2010-12-10T14:44:00.000Z

It's almost arrivederci for two of the most enjoyable TV programmes of the autumn, Strictly Come Dancing ands The Apprentice. I'm going to preview both of the semi finals, starting with the Apprentice.

What's striking about the five finalists in the Apprentice is that four of them didn't go to university. So, rioting students, perhaps there is no need to waste three years doing Media Studies and then saddling yourself with a debt. The internet offers far more potential to budding entrepreneurs than we had in my day.

They do seem more entrepreneurial than the usual finalists. I think people were shocked when Liz went out, but although she came across as hugely capable, confident and talented, I didn't see that spark of ingenuity. Having read Lord Sugar's autobiography, I see now what sort of people would attract him. It's not necessarily just someone good at selling, because Liz was that (although as an investment banker, I was surprised she was so good at selling.)

He wants a hunger for selling and the ability to negotiate. Also the ability to see a pile of rubbish and sell it very quickly.How else did Amstrad become so successful.

I am beginning to fear that Stuart Baggs The Brand, the 21 year old with a field full of ponies (!I'm not a one trick pony, I'm not even a two trick pony. I have a field full of ponies") or Joanna, the woman with the most irritating voice in Britain, are the two most likely Apprentices this year.

We were all amazed when Joanna made it through the first episode, and I was appalled by the way she kept yelling at Jamie last week. She is a woman with the interpersonal skills of a sledgehammer.

Meanwhile Jamie seems quite charming and is clearly a good negotiator, but comes across as slippery as a basket of eels. He's been his own boss for four years and doesn't like being told what to do, so I don't think he would do very well at Amscreen.

I like steely Stella but even though she did a fine rendition of Knees Up Mother Brown, Lord Sugar will always find fault with her for being 'corporate".The programme last night that looked at the five finalists and their backgrounds was quite an eye-opener on the Stella front. She had a very tough upbringing and was almost put in a children's home until her great aunt decided to take her in.

Then there's Chris. He's the only one who went to university. He comes across as a well meaning posh nitwit, really. But I was surprised to hear both Nick and Karren Brady sounding very positive about him. I felt sure there was nothing "strategic" about his offer to the tourist company last week to give them 20% of his team's total winnings. He had that rabbit in a headlight look, and I don't think he knew what else to offer.

Next week's episode is one of my favourites when Sugar's business acolytes interview the finalists and tear them to shreds. I'm thinking Stella and Joanna will stand up to it best. What do you think?

FIFA: Down with this sort of thing

2010-12-04T13:30:00.000Z

If there's one thing that makes me mad, it's injustice of any kind. I am seething about the FIFA decision on the next World Cup locations, and the way England garnered just one vote.

On paper England was equal top of Fifa's own technical assessment of the four bids. We were top of an independent assessment of the best commercial bids and the presentation on Thursday was widely acclaimed as the best of the 2018 and 2022 bids.

None of that mattered however because FIFA, one of the most ridiculous, inept and discredited organisations in the world, was determined to give England a lesson. Why? Because our journalists had the temerity to expose the corruption at the heart of the whole process, and the fact that FIFA officials can be bribed for money.

I would have expected FIFA to have reacted to the news by sacking officials and issuing a statement saying they intended to get to the bottom of the allegations.

As you would expect from this bunch of idiots (remember some of their foolishness during the World Cup), they didn't, but they took their revenge by punishing the whistleblowing nation.

And this nonsense about giving Qatar the World Cup to grow football globally! Yes with a population of just over one and a half million, I'm sure it will have a huge impact there.

Let's hope for the sake of soccer lovers thast Russia is able to deliver the stadia and hotels in time for 2018. They didn't score highly on this in the technical assessment. But I suppose when, like Russia and Qatar, you have oligarchs and oil behind your bid, money is no object.

Strictly Come Dancing:The voting has gone to pot

2010-11-29T14:39:00.000Z

Erin Boag was aghast on Twitter and so was I. Scott Maslen's zombie-like performance, complete with errors, managed to score some nines from the judges. Er, hello? Surely that's like saying "ok Ann, you did all the steps - albeit badly - so let's give you nine points for trying."

I've never seen such a blatant case of favourtism. Compare that to the reception given to Matt Baker's superb dream sequence with the ghostly and ethereal Aliona Vilani. Struggling to find fault, the judges criticised his facial expressions.I couldn't understand, and nor could many on Twitter, why he didn't score any tens.

Frankly if Scott is struggling to manage SCD with EastEnders, then he shouldn't have taken on both. I'm getting tired of the constant references to his exhaustion. Get over it or get out.

I was hoping the petulant Gavin would be shown the door last night but instead Patsy went. And she had been expecting to go right from the start. Gavin seems in constant denial. After telling us all how he hated the jive, and then performing it as if he hated it, he then accused the judges of under-scoring it. He wasn't sitting where we were. Craig was quite right when he said Gavin was now challenging Ann Widdecombe.

Ann has clearly nailed her colours to the mast (the Titanic's) by saying she intends to make it to the final, and win. Poor Anton is in two minds now. He's always wanted to claim the glitter ball, but with Widdy?

Lest we all think the lady is a soft cuddly marshmallow granny, let me remind you that she denies climate change, opposes abortion, women priests and equal rights for homosexuals.

I'm hoping the final will feature Matt and the divine Pamela, and no doubt Widdy will be there as well. It is, a psychologist opined this week, the public getting their own back at stuffy judges.

(Another) Amazing Lunch: The Ledbury

2010-11-28T08:00:00.077Z

The Ledbury is a Michelin two star restaurant in Notting Hill, London. Chef Brett Graham started cooking in a simple fish restaurant in Newcastle, Australia, aged 15.After moving to Sydney for three years, he came to the UK and was Young Chef of the Year in 2002. The Ledbury was awarded a Michelin star in its first year, and the two stars it now has are well deserved.

Quite simply, the food is sublime!

Such amazing textures and depth of flavours. My starter of Ceviche of Hand Dived Scallops with Seaweed and Herb Oil, Kohlrabi and Frozen Horseradish danced and sang in my mouth. There was a wonderful explosion of taste and texture, with the gently thawing horseradish and the delicate aniseed flavour of the seaweed. Quite extraordinary.

Stop the Pigeon

My main course was Poached Breast and Confit Legs of Pigeon with Cevennes Onions, Foie Gras and Liquorice. The confit legs arrived on a separate plate, artfully arranged on twigs. Now I don't normally eat offal, but the pigeon heart and foie gras, on the skewer, were so melting and delicate I would happily have devoured a flock of pigeons.

The Pigeon's confit legs

We sampled the cheese trolley before the dessert. Excellent selection of cheeses and none of that "washed in wine" nonsense. I navigated around the minefield that is a Goat Alert, although I did partake of the goat with the chef's amuse bouche, but fortunately it was very mild and not too goaty.

My dessert was Brown Sugar Tart with Muscat Grapes and Stem Ginger Ice Cream. The ginger of the ice cream was so piquant against the sweetness of the tart. A marriage made in heaven.

I would happily return to The Ledbury. Superb service, a lady Sommelier, and a beautiful room. What more could you ask for? I would put it on a par with Gidleigh Park (but more experimental), and infinitely better than the over-starred Le Manoir Quat'Saisons.

The story of the rock salt on our roads

2010-11-26T08:00:00.000Z

Photo: The Salt Association

As we were eating our breakfast today, and I was driving J mad by asking what a tiger would do if it came across Molly (a much smaller and domesticated version of the species), the TV news channel was earnestly talking about salt and how councils are stocking up.

I was distracted from the tiger argument (much to J's relief) by the discovery that salt is bought from Egypt. I then Googled "wheere does road salt come from?" and it became one of those fascinating and immersing topics.

My mum, the Giz, was yesterday pricing bags of salt v grit in her local hardware store.

I discovered that rock salt has formed at various times in the geological past as a result of the drying up of the sea. The evaporating water left behind beds of sea-salt. In northern Europe, thick deposits of rock salt were lain down during Permian imes (290 million years ago) across a wide area stretching from eastern England, under the North Sea eastwerds to the Netherlands, Germany, Denmark and Poland (Poland is famous for its salt mines).

In the UK, salt of Permian age is mined in Cleveland. Younger salt beds, of Triassic age (200-250 million years old) is mined from the Cheshire basin, Cumbria and northern Ireland.

Even more fascinating, rock salt mines have the right conditions to make excellent repositories for archive documents.

And the good news is, according to the Salt Association, we're not likely to run out of salt. The UK's salt mines have about 225km (140 miles) of tunnels - almost as long as the M5 motorway. And that's without turning to countries like Spain and Egypt for supplies. All we have to hope is that our councils have learned from the lessons of earlier this year and stocked up.

No stirring

2010-11-21T13:09:00.000Z

Today is Stir Up Sunday, the day for making your own Christmas puddings. Stir Up Sunday is also the informal term for the last Sunday before Advent. Tradition has it that every member of the family should have a stir and make a wish. And the length of time before now and Christmas means the pudding has plenty of time to mellow and mature.

There won't be any stirring in my household, I'm afraid. Nobody seems to like Christmas pudding. I don't mind it because I am an absolute stickler for tradition, but this year I've bought an individual pudding from Lakeland. It isn't the round shape shown in the picture - does anyone ever make them this shape nowadays?

My mum used to occasionally make her own Christmas puddings and Christmas cake. But it was a thankless task because my elder brother didn't like nuts or peel, and the younger brother wasn't keen on marzipan.

I doubt if very many people at all will be stirring up the tradition today. A survey said this week that most of us have no confidence about cooking, and millions of pounds' worth of home-made meals end up in the bin before they're eaten, including Christmas puddings (which cost an average of £10 to make.)

Will you be making your own pud and how do you like it served? Clotted cream was always the gold stansdard in my Devonian childhood, although I let the side down by wanting "Nestle's cream". I can't stand brandy butter and custard seems to make it a very average delight. I discovered last year you could still get a type of Nestle's cream, so I'm afraid I will be having that with my Lakeland "Billy No Mates" pudding.

The Scent of a Woman

2010-11-18T14:04:00.000Z

How many times have you fallen in love with the idea of something - and then found the reality doesn't deliver?

For me it was a recent experience with a perfume.

I have discovered perfume blogs - and what heaven they are! Such knowledgeable people, writing about top notes and dry downs, and so wittily and well written.

I used to be a mega perfume fan and would eagerly dash off to stores which had the first supplies of hot new releases, among them, I remember, Knowing, which I still love; Boudoir and Cabotine de Gres (pooh!).

Anyway, most of the perfume blogs have a very good search function so I spent ages happily finding old perfumes I used to wear and reading the reviews.

I'd noticed in a couple of fiction books I was reading that the heroines seemed to be synonymous with a fragrance called Fracas. So I started looking it up.

It's in the top 10 of the world's top perfumes in the exellent book Perfumes: The A-Z guide by Tania Sanchez and Luca Turin.

I saw from blogs and comments that it's very distinctive; you have to be in the mood to wear it; it is extremely sexy. "White flower heaven," "class in a bottle" "rich, fragrant, captivating" are a few of the comments.

The perfume, by Robert Piguet, dates from 1948 but is available from some stores including Harrod's.

I was in a frenzy of anticipation to try it and it seemed like an eternity before I could get into Harrod's to try it.

Some of the blogs caution that you should be sparing with Fracas as it can be overpowering. So I made sure I only had a small squirt.

And what a disappointment!

Perfectly pleasant but somewhat insipid. No sign of the punch I was expecting. I recognised the smell instantly: it's hard to describe but you will have smelt it on others. I kept sniffing my wrist hoping the dry down was going to be better, but no, it faded away like a sigh.

But what this exercise did do was re-ignite my interest in perfumes. I am now reading up on the latest trends, which, folks are oud and amber, and look forward to trying new releases for Christmas. And maybe I will start to review them here.

My all-time favourites are Diorella and Knowing, both chypres. I wish Dior would bring back Diorella in eau de parfum formulation! Considering it is also in the world's top 10 fragrances, it's surprising you can only get it in eau de toilette.

I also remember nostalgically other perfumes which were all the rage when I was young, which I didn't wear at the time: Aqua Manda, Kiku (in its round yellow bottles), Anais Anais and In Love by Hartnell. My mum's neighbour used to wear Coty's L'Aimant and we always knew when Holly our cat had been in her house because she stank of it aftewards!

Here are the perfumes of my life. What are yours?

The perfumes of my life

The first ones - pre-teen and teenage:

Pretty Peach by Avon

Sea Jade by Yardley

Midnight by Dorothy Gray

Charlie by Revlon

In my 20's

Cinnabar by Estee Lauder

L'Eau d'Issey by Issey Miyake

Joy

Chanel No 5

Chanel Cristalle

Chanel No 19

Oscar de la Renta

In my 30's

Cabotine de Gres by Gres

Lumiere by Rochas

Byzance by Rochas

Magie Noire by Lancome

Jicky by Guerlain

Violette by Penhaligon's

Diorella by Dior

Boudoir by Vivienne Westwood

Flowerbombe by Viktor & Rolf

In my 40s

Aromatics Elixir by Clinique

Eau Dynamisante by Clarins

Diorissimo by Dior

Knowing by Estee Lauder

Malabah by Penhaligon's

Some perfume blogs to visit:

http://perfumesmellinthings.blogspot.com/

http://perfumeshrine.blogspot.com/

http://boisdejasmin.typepad.com/

The Elizabeth Hurley Diet

2010-11-15T20:10:00.000Z

I am on what I call the Elizabeth Hurley diet. I am not eating the same things as La Hurley, although there has been a fair bit of intelligence about how she keeps her trim figure. A few raisins; tea plates instead of dinner plates, and trips to Holland & Barrett for "detox supplies" is what I have gleaned.

No, what I mean by the Elizabeth Hurley diet is that when I want to be tempted and eat something, I think: "would Elizabeth do that?" The answer is invariably No, because she's always getting in shape for another bikini shoot (even though she says every year she's getting too old).

I find it works a treat!

If you don't empathise with Hurley, you could perhaps try the Kate Moss diet. This centres around her statement: "Nothing tastes as good as thin feels."

Any other tips?

Autumn Walk

2010-11-13T20:51:00.000Z

We had a quick walk in the forest today to appreciate the colours. For J it was also an opportunity to try his new camera and lens.

A day to remember

2010-11-08T12:38:00.001Z

J with the red roses

I have wanted to go to Raymond Blanc's Le Manoir Aux Quat' Saisons for a long time, so with a milestone birthday this year I knew I had the perfect opportunity.

It was booked back in April and we finally got there yesterday, day of my birthday.

The attention to detail is second to none. The moment we arrived, staff came out to welcome us and take our cases. We were then shown straight to our room. No nonsense with checking in and presenting credit cards!

Our room, Crystal, was wonderful. We had the celebration package and a table groaned with twelve perfect Grand Prix roses, a bottle of Champagne on ice, a bottle of Madeira, hand-made chocolates and a selection of fruit.

The marbled bathroom had a huge walk-shower, a huge bath with candles and big crystal bottles of unguents plus heavenly scented slabs of soap.

We immediately went for a walk in the gardens to catch the last tentative rays of sunshine. Here is my picture of the lily pond in the Japanese garden.

There are wonderful sculptures everywhere, reclining figures, figures relaxing with books. At this time of year the main vegetables growing in the veg beds were chard, beetroot and cabbage.

After a heavenly scented bath with candles and Strictly Come Dancing (Jimi voted off -a travesty!), we had a pre-dinner apertif and perused the menu. There were three options: the decouverte tasting menu, the classic menu and the a la carte menu of seasonal specialities. We chose the latter.

Now, if I am brutally honest, I must tell you that the food didn't quite live up to expectations. One of the things I love most about haute cuisine is the complex layering of flavours and the unexpected frisson of delight when you sample something unexpected. But reader, I must tell you, the food at Le Manoir was one-dimensional. The menu promised all sorts of exotic capers but in the main one or two flavours dominated and drowned out the rest.

Cauliflower soup

Chef Gary Jones' amuse bouche was a cup and saucer of cauliflower soup, a confident start with a strong garlic truffle oil providing the oomph that cauliflower needs.

We both chose plancha-seared Cornish lobster with warm Jersey Royal potatoes, Oscietra caviar, cardamom and red pepper jus.

Cornish lobster

My initial reaction was that the heavy hitter in the cauliflower soup was also at play here, drowning out the flavour of the lobster. J said quite spontaneously that the lobster was a little disappointing.

My duck

My main was roasted Gressingham duck breast with braised chicory and confit of yuzu fruit; jasmine tea and raisin sauce. This was ruined by the very thin sauce poured over the duck and a very powerful orange sauce. Although orange isn't mentioned anywhere, I guess yuzu fruit must taste very similar. The duck itself was a little tough and the vegetables actually quite soft.

J's beef

J fared better with sirloin of beef, which isn't shown on the online menu so I can't tell you everything it came with. In typical J fashion, he did note there could have been more potatoes.

We didn't have a dessert but went straight to the cheese board. The trolley was left languishing by our table for about 10 minutes before the waiter said "oh, looks like I'd better do this." Fortunately the cheeses were not too fragrant, otherwise it may have been a little off putting for the couple next to us.

A nice touch was the banana and passion fruit sorbet complete with candle and Happy Birthday motif for me.

Rounded off with "chocolate discovery" for me (hot chocolate) and tea for J in the lounge - which took about 30 minutes to materialise - a thoroughly lovely experience but somehow making me think the chef has maybe become a little complacent. It was nowhere as good as Gidleigh Park in Devon, which also has two Michelin stars, where I went a few weeks ago.

Waking this morning, tea arrived dead on 8am as scheduled and breakfast was delicious. We plumped for the full English but Le Manoir excels in healthy choices with delicious fruit salads and seeds, fruits and nuts all meticulously labelled with their countries of origin. The sausage was, I am sure, 90% meat with none of that nasty rusk.

All in all, a fabulous experience but if Le Manoir is to deliver Raymond Blanc's vision of unsurpassed customer service and gastronomy, they need to step up just a gear or two.

A Strictly Come Dancing travesty prepares to unfold

2010-11-02T15:14:00.000Z

I have been very restrained up to now and not mentioned Strictly Come Dancing, or The Apprentice ("what's that?") once.

But now that the glitter has settled on SCD, and we know who's good and who we like and don't like, I couldn't resist adding my two'pennorth.

Strictly Come Dancing, for the benefit of my US chums, is the TV show that led to what you call "Dancing with the Stars." The UK version includes two of the judges who grace your show, Len and Bruno, plus we have the acerbic Craig Revel-Horwood - "in three words, my darling, OMG" - and the foolish former contestant and Muttley impersonator Alesha Dixon - "you was brilliant."

This year the BBC changed the rules and the public decides who goes out each week. You will remember that previously there was a dance-off between the bottom two, and then the judges decided. The hapless John Sergeant managed to survive for quite a while with the public keeping him safe, but eventually quit when he realised there was a chance he might end up in the final.

This year the judges have no decision-making power, and so I am convinced that Ann Widdecombe, the Tory MP, will make, and possibly win, the final.

I don't deny that it is very entertaining seeing the routine that Anton Du Beke creates each week. Highlights have included Ann being lowered to the floor in a harness like a gigantic flapping Dumbo, and on Saturday, in a memorable paso doble, being hurled to the floor and then bouncing like a scene from The Dam Buster, followed by Anton swinging her around like a sack of potatoes (pictured.)

It is, as Len said on It Takes Two, rather like a motorway crash when you're on the other side of the road but you can't help looking.

I'm sure the BBC changed the rules to encourage more votes to make more money. Many people are obviously keen to keep Ann in, and unlike John Sergeant, she doesn't seem abashed about not being very good.

But we need to remind ourselves this is a dance competition, and there are contestants who are fabulously good, and amaze us with their stunning routines each week. I don't think it will be fair if Widdecombe wins at the expense of Scott Maslen, Jimi Mistry, Pamela Stephenson or Matt Baker, all outstanding in my view. And bravo to Pamela for showing that women over the age of 60 can still be vibrant, sexy and fabulous.

Apple bobbing for Halloween? Too dangerous

2010-10-30T09:07:00.000+01:00

We all love a good story about the excesses of "elf and safety.

This Halloween, there's a warning from Southampton University Hospitals NHS Trust that some of the ancient games associated with the pagan festival are dangerous.

Apple bobbing, for example, runs the risk of "a high velocity impact with an apple". Not to mention serious eye injury from unclean water. The recommendation is to wear goggles, disinfect water containers and remove apple debris before dunking your head into the water.

One eye expert even suggests children should remove the apples with their hands, not their mouths, but I can't see much fun in that as a game. I suppose you could play it all year round. "Johnny, please pick up some apples for Mummy," at Sainsbury's each week.

It's not only apple bobbing that is dangerous. Fancy-dress contact lenses come in for attack, as they can cause irritation, and as for lanterns, well, people occasionally hit their head on them.

Take care this Halloween and hopefully enjoy the pagan revels without too much damage!

Baby gorilla born at London Zoo

2010-10-29T11:15:00.000+01:00

I know you all like a bit of good news, so here's a heart warming story about the first baby gorilla to be born at London Zoo for over twenty years.

Mother Mjukuu and baby, left, are both doing well. The baby's aunties, Zaire and Effie, were at the birth and have remained with Mjukuu throughout.

Staff at the zoo are now figuring out the delicate operation of introducing the baby to his stepfather, Kesho.

The tiny baby will grow into a 25 stone silverback gorilla.

Feel free to send me your good news snippets!

Guest blog: Carry On Embrocating. My second Amsterdam Marathon

2010-10-28T09:37:00.000+01:00

I'm handing over the blog today to my spouse, the mysterious J, for his account of his second Amsterdam marathon (his 22nd marathon in total). J went with members of his running club, the Orion Harriers.

Take it away J.

This was my second trip to the Amsterdam marathon, scene of my 1st sub 4hr triumph in 2007.
Training for this run had been indifferent, so I had no real feel for my optimum pace for this race. Ideal conditions, cool with winter sunshine.

Good atmosphere at the start, Julie and I prepped together and got a good pen position quite close to the start line. Got off to a good start, let Julie go after a few minutes and settled down to an average 5mins per Km pace which was a pleasant surprise to me.

Kept close eye on HR (heart rate) but stayed with this pace, so again my performance on the day was well above expectations from training. Went through 1/2 in 1:46:37 well on pace for a pb (personal best), my aim was to keep in the low 5 to 5:30 Km's during the later stages and this was working well.

Around mile 24 got bad cramp in right calf and had to pull up couldn't keep going. Tried calf stretch and tried again -- no good, did some hamstring stretches which eased the problem and allowed me slowly get started again. After a few minutes gamely jogging back to pace the same thing happened to left calf - seized up, more stretches got me going again slowly. At this time I was convinced I'd blown any potential for a pb so settled in for a slow finish.

When I got to the 40km sign (only 2 km left) and saw the current time, I realised there was still a chance to get close to a pb. Legs were by now not doing well with cramps coming and going over the last 2k's, tried to raise pace all the way in, very emotional including talking to myself ovr the last k to keep the effort going. Once over the line not sure of eventual time, when I checked my Garmin it showed 4 secs outside a personal best - very disappointing. So lost around 4 mins to cramps and stretches, overall got to be delighted with this run and the time - didn't look anywhere as good as this in training. my 3rd 3:43 marathon on the trot....

John Barrowman - reviewed by Giz

2010-10-23T14:06:00.000+01:00

My mum, known to us inexplicably as "Giz," is 77 but in possession of all her faculties plus a great deal of energy. She is social secretary to two or three widows' associations and her social life seems to be a merry blur of coach trips and lunches. She books speakers and is currently booking for 2012 (I am not joking).

Last week she went with three ladies I uncharitably call "the beige set" to see John Barrowman at the Plymouth Pavilions.

My mum always wears bright colours: she says she refuses to merge into the background and be ignored. The Beige Set, however, always wear beige (and not just because it's having a trendy moment.)

Anyway, Giz and I exchanged a flurry of texts after the show. I taught her how to text a few years ago. She has taught most of her friends, athough is very scathing of the one who still writes in capitals all the time. She has a package of 800 texts a month and most of them are to me.

Here is the conversation in verbatim. Remember we were texting, hence the spelling:

Me: How was JB?
Giz: Wonderful. Wot a performer. Audience went mad 4 him. Jodi Prenger 2.
Me: Any screaming?
Giz: Yes loads. Shouting we luv u Jetc. Few stoic men. Kept saying he was gay. Nice being 4 of us cos they r nice ladies.

So there you have it. I've always wondered why it is that older ladies swarm to see John Barrowman and scream, even though it's well known he's gay. Answers on a postcard please.

Weston-Super-Mare's Pier reopens

2010-10-22T07:40:00.002+01:00

Today's good news concerns the pier at Weston-Super-Mare. Two years the pavilion was destroyed by fire, but now it's been rebuilt and will reopen tomorrow.

I've written before about my love of the pier. They are so iconic, so quintissentially British. And usually when they are destroyed by fire or fall into disrepair, they aren't replaced.

Just recently, Hastings Pier was in the news after it was burnt down by arsonists. What is it with these people?

Anyway, back top Weston-Super-Mare, where people are expected to queue overnight to get to be the first to visit the refurbished pier.

First opened in 1907, the pier is a grade II listed building. More than £39 million has been spent on it.
My earlier story in 2008 about piers, following the destruction of Fleetwood Pier by fire, is here. Join the National Piers Society here.

Pink Floyd: the Good News

2010-10-20T08:00:00.008+01:00

I'm feeling like Cyril Fletcher in That's Life. Today I am indebted to......Nicky in Belgium for today's good news snippet.

Nicky discovered that Pink Floyd were reuniting, which, depending on your view of the band, may be good or bad news.

But what's good is that they're doing it for charity, unlike a lot of greedy oldsters (yes Spandau Ballet, Status Quo and Genesis, I mean you.)

Best lunch ever at Gidleigh Park

2010-10-19T12:55:00.001+01:00

One of my hobbies is eating my way around Britain and I have been to quite a few notable nosheries including Le Gavroche, Gordon Ramsay at Claridge's, Maze and The Fat Duck.

But these all paled into insignificance against Michael Caines' two Michelin starred Gidleigh Park restaurant near Chagford in Devon.

Giz and I went there for Sunday lunch and it was just exquisite!

The hotel is in beautiful grounds in a very peaceful location. It is relaxed and elegant, with the superb, unotrusive service that you expect in a place like this.

After canapes in the lounge as we chose from the menu, we were shown to our table and first to arrive was a complimentary artichoke soup in a tiny glass accompanied by superb artisan bread, crusty on the outside and soft and melting inside as so many bread rolls aren't.

My first course was salmon confit and my main was Devonshire sirloin which came with a cep shaped ravioli filled with delicious braised shin. I would like to tell you all the different components but unfortunately the particular menu we had isn't shown on the website.

We both had an apple plate to finish, which had three apple desserts lined up: tarte tatin, lemon mousse and a lemon biscuit with ice cream, plus a tiny jug with warm apple jus. To die for!

I've added photos of what I ate. Not great quality but I had to take them with my BlackBerry. The camera was with J, who at this time was running the Amsterdam Marathon and finishing at 3 hour 43, which is very good.

We opted for coffee and petit fours in the lounge. I was expecting a couple of hand-made chocolates but it was like another course: three tiny perfectly made desserts on a wooden tray. An apple doughnut, a blackcurrant posset and a chocolate, hand tempered. We couldn't have eaten another thing, so just as well we didn't go for the tasting menu.

The only drawback to this wonderful place was the very windy and narrow country lane leading to the hotel. Unsuitable for heavy vehicles, it had hardly any passing places and for a townie driving a new car was a bit of a white knuckle ride. But well worth it for the experience that followed.

TODAY'S GOOD NEWS

Three decades ago, the otter population was at risk of extinction because of chemicals and poor quality waterways. Now the riverbanks are filled to bursting with otters. Good news indeed!

Plymouth gets Christmas makeover

2010-10-17T08:00:00.019+01:00

As you read this, dear reader, I will be gallivanting in my ancestral home - Devon - and relaiming my Four Square mayorship of the power station next door to my mum's house.

So it is apt that today's good news story features my former home city of Plymouth.

Plymouth is to get its Winter Festival complete with ice rink.

The Winter Festival will start with the Christmas lights switch-on on Thursday, November 18. It will feature the Christmas Ice Rink on the Piazza, festive shows at the Pavilions, Christmas markets, Sleeping Beauty at the Theatre Royal, the Christmas Carnival, late-night shopping, festive street entertainment and a special 'Santa fun run'.

I will hopefully get to see some of this when I go down to Plymouth later this year to deliver the presents.

John Barrowman

And if my mum wasn't excited enough about enjoying the delights of Gidleigh Park, our lunch destination today, she will be beside herself next Thursday when she and one of her widows' associations go to see John Barrowman at the Plymouth Pavilions. A full report to follow. Gird your loins.

Heifer rescue went well

2010-10-16T08:00:00.019+01:00

A heifer, not necessarily the one
that was rescued

Continuing the theme of good news stories, I am indebted to Fran of South Cerney for this heart warmer about a heifer rescue that went well.

The Wilts & Gloucs Standard reports how the heifer was hauled to safety by firefighters after falling down a well at Crudwell. The 12-month-old animal plunged through the cover of a 10ft deep well at Hayleaze Farm, but landed upright in the water and mud.

A crew from Malmesbury was on the scene first and made it safe before a specialist animal rescue team from Stratton arrived. Rural safety officer Adam Martin explained: "The cow was in an extremely confined space and would have been very frightened by what had happened, so the challenge was to get her sedated and then lifted free.

"The water was drained from the well, which allowed the vet access to carry out sedation. It was then safe for us to get down to her and put strops around her."

All's well that ends well.

Today's good news

2010-10-15T08:00:00.017+01:00

I can tell you that I have bitten off more than I can chew with my pledge to find some good news every day.
A trawl of BBC news and local paper websites revealed a litany of bad, bad news. Eventually I found a heart warming titbit at the Croydon Advertiser.

For 70 years, the South Norwood and Woodside branch of the Women's Section of the Royal British Legion have been meeting up once a month to socialise and organise fundraisers.

The ladies are celebrating their 70th anniversary and preparing for Poppy Day. But they desperately need new members. "We've not had any young people join us for a good 20 years," said Secretary Ann Sparshott. "We need some young people in to help us with the fundraising and the lifting and carrying which comes with putting on our events.

"The support the Legion provides is going to go through the generations. It's rewarding to hear when people get the help they need. It brings tears to your eyes. I think it's a brilliant cause."