A Typical Essex Girl

Summer Holidays, Summer Glory Days

2010-09-01T08:08:00.002+01:00

Well, this is something I wasn't expecting. I am sitting here with EssexSprogGirl and EssexSprogBoy, watching Toy Story 2 (for the fifth time in 24 hours - that's called Slack Parenting in Action) and feeling really rather sad that the summer holidays are coming to an end tomorrow.

At the start, I was one of those eye-rolling parents, cynically quoting how many hours we had left to endure and wishing away the days and weeks. But actually, I've really rather loved the summer holidays. Well, these last few weeks anyway.

Partly, I know, it's because it's great not to have to do the school run every day or pack a lunchbox or search for a missing school shoe. But, also, it's just been rather fun, lolling about, visiting the park, having the children's friends over for the day. We've camped (in the front room), been to the beach, lunched, danced, visited a theme park, watched Toy Story 2 and made dens in the dining room amongst other things.

Tomorrow, life goes back to normal. I'm going to miss the summer holidays.

Summer Holidays - Summer Horror Days

2010-07-29T20:33:00.003+01:00

I really do love my children. I really, really do.

I do.

But... wow, aren't the summer holidays long? A week down and four and a half to go. And I am luckier than most as EssexHusband is a teacher so is sharing the fun with me.

But this is a long holiday, isn't it? It's not just me?

A Celebrity In Our Midst

2010-07-28T22:15:00.002+01:00

Once I posted on Mumsnet to ask which celebrities had been spotted out and about around Essex. As an appetiser, I revealed that I had seen Billy Murray, who played Johnny Allen in Eastenders in the car park of the Black Horse pub, near Doddinghurst.

Well, it turned out that everyone else had spotted him too. In fact, there is probably some sort of drinking game to be invented around Billy Murray Spotting, but I haven't got time to do that now because...

Danielle Lloyd is moving into our village! (And this is fact, not just rumour, which was the case when we heard that Teddy Sheringham and then David Essex were moving in.)

There is a rather hideous looking new mansion up by our local golf club (the McMansion, as we snobby villagers sniffily call it) and apparently she's moving in there with her footballer fiance. Of course, I would much prefer my muse Chantelle to be a neighbour, but in her absence, Danielle will have to do. I will keep you posted as we are bound to become very good friends. We have a lot in common. After all, she is a WAG and I am a wife. She once went out with Teddy Sheringham and I once part-owned a cat called Sheringham (which we gave to the Essex InLaws once Teddy started playing for Arsenal. A cat is for life, or at least until the transfer window.) She was once involved in a revolting incident in the Big Brother house with Jade Goody and I once met Jade in a car park in Chelmsford. So much in common!

Pleasurewood Thrills

2010-07-27T22:13:00.003+01:00

EssexSprogGirl has just finished her first year at school and as a treat, we said we would take her on an outing all by herself and banish EssexSprogBoy to his Nana's for a couple of days.

"Wow!" EssexSprogGirl exclaimed at the news. "Can we go to Disney in Florida?"

"No!" We exclaimed back. "But we'll go to the next best thing - Pleasurewood Hills in Lowestoft. Just off the A12."

"Hmmm. Will be that be any good?" Asked EssexSprogGirl with some dubiousness. (She has good reason to be doubtful, knowing that EssexHusband and I have a tendency to feign excitement to the children to encourage their enthusiasm for dull outings e.g. "Let's go to Tescos!")

To be honest, I wasn't really sure if it would be any good. I haven't been for years and can't really remember what was there when I did go. (The Vampire? Nope, Chessington. Professor Burp's Bubbleworks? Chessington.)

It turns out, Pleasurewood Hills is really sort of lovely. It's small enough to not be daunting, but with enough rides to make a whole day of it. (Well, it would have been if we could have gone on more things. EssexSprogGirl only wanted to go on the tamest rides - probably because she's 5 and tiny. So we tricked her into going on a rollercoaster, and she sobbed and we felt terribly mean, especially as we had to climb off the ride in front of the queue, heads hanging in parental shame.) We loved the sealion show and the parrots and the man doing tricks on his BMX. We also loved the fact there were no queues for anything at all. You wouldn't get that at Disney.

Luckily for us, EssexSprogGirl was so excited about the thought of being a pretend only child for a couple of days that we probably could have just taken her to Tesco and she'd have been quite happy. In fact, her favourite part of the whole trip was bouncing on the bed at the Travelodge. Next time, we'll book in for two nights and let her bounce to her heart's content.

A Snapshot of my Life

2010-07-19T11:20:00.002+01:00

May I share with you the smallest snapshot of my life?

EssexSprogBoy is naked (noodie-doodie, as we say in the TypicalEssex household), apart from a pair of grey socks. He is brandishing a blue balloon in my face and shouting,

"String! String! Get me string! Get the scissors! Get the string! I'll show you! Come on!"

I am ignoring him and typing this. This could run and run.

My Friend Is Famous

2010-07-07T21:33:00.002+01:00

Ooh! - my fellow blogger and good friend, Hackney Hackette has been mentioned in the Guardian.

Places I Go With the Children

2010-07-07T21:19:00.003+01:00

I've noticed I don't write enough about Essex. The way I go on about myself, I could just as well be ATypicalSurreyGirl. So, here are a few things I like.

Cheeky Monkeez in South Woodham Ferrers - . Big playroom for children, including a separate area for mums with babies. It's not so much a soft play place, more of a big room with lots of toys. It also has a very reasonably priced cafe. And it feels safe. And the people who run it are unfailingly polite and cheerful, a miracle bearing in mind they work in a big room with lots of toys (and therefore lots of noisy children.) EssexSprogBoy had his 3rd birthday there and lots of guests remarked on what a great place it is. Which I've never heard anyone say after a visit to KrazyKidz. (What is it with children's venues and horrible spelling?)

Colchester Zoo. I love Colchester Zoo. Buy a gold card and if you visit just three times, you've recouped your money. It has animals (obviously) but also a ball/soft play area where you can grab a table, have a sit down and let the children run riot.

Monkey Puzzle in Maldon - great big soft play area set over two floors. Unfortunately, the layout does mean that sometimes you hear your children plaintively yelling from downstairs as they can't get up to the top floor. It's OK though. You just need do drag yourself off your chair, lean over and shout, "Climb up the slide!" until they learn not to yell again.

The 99p Shop in Witham. OK, not technically a fun day out for the children, but I really am fond of that shop. All that stuff! For 99p!

Essential Feeling

2010-07-06T10:14:00.004+01:00

I had a lovely e-mail from Karen at Essential Feeling, a new holistic therapy company offering me a free treatment in return for writing about them on here. I had to sheepishly reply and say that although it was a truly tempting offer, I really don't have enough readers to justify them going to that trouble.

However, I wanted to give them a mention because Karen was so lovely and I admire anyone who has the ambition and courage to start their own business. If you're near Gidea Park and looking for a massage, why not try them out?

Back again.

2010-07-05T12:59:00.002+01:00

I have had a deluge of requests, asking me to update the blog. Well, three and one of them was EssexDad, but hey, that's enough for me!

I haven't written for quite a while, mainly because I'm lazy but also because I received an e-mail from a well-wisher telling me the blog was boring and I must be too. I have no defence mechanism for anonymous criticism from strangers so I took it as gospel and had a break.

But, I'm back in the saddle now. Back on the sofa, anyway.

As I haven't written since March, I thought I'd start off with an update of 20 things that have happened since I posted last.

1. The play went OK. Rehearsals were hard work, the actual performance was exhilarating. I received a review that said although my performance was bad-to-average, at least I knew my lines well. To be honest, when you're my age and haven't had a good night's sleep in 5 years, that's the equivalent of an Oscar.

2. EssexSprogBoy now uses Poo-Poo Head as a term of address and endearment. "Good morning, Poo-Poo Head!" or "Get me some sweets NOW you Poo-Poo Head!"

3. EssexSprogGirl had a glowing school report. She is, as we always suspected, fairly perfect.

4. I am a stone lighter than I was this time last year, which makes me smile.

5. To make up for that positive small step on the journey towards a reflection that doesn't make me weep, my hair has taken on the texture of string. Don't know why.

6. Oh, that's it really. Perhaps my anonymous critic had a point.

Will pop out to have a look around Essex for inspiration and be back shortly.

Girls of Essex Day

2010-03-18T18:42:00.004Z

A friend of mine alerted me to a special day being held for us Essex Girls.

(Or 'Girls of Essex' as they call us - I assume in an attempt to provide some distance from the stereotype. Imagine the boardroom,

"Right, let's have an Essex Girls Day."
"Hang on though, people might think it's just going to be one big orgy of stupidity and blondeness. The Essex Girls will feel degraded."
"Good point. We'll call it Girls of Essex Day. They're think they're being empowered or something.")

Apparently, it's being staged because,
"There has been considerable stereotyping of girls living in Essex leading them to feel disadvantaged and disenfranchised at times when they reveal where they live. It is not unknown for them to answer that they come from East Anglia or “outside London” rather than from Essex. The primary aim of the day is to empower the girls who live in Essex, to broaden their vision, self worth and belief, and hopefully to inspire them to reach further, higher and live the dream of an enhanced future regardless of their stereotyping."

Really? Disenfranchised? I don't know anyone at all who feels like this. That's not saying it's not true. It must be, or why say it? But that's really sad. I am willing to be corrected; perhaps my friends and I have been very lucky not to feel disadvantaged or limited in life due to living in or even (gasp) coming from Essex.

I know, it's not really aimed at me. I'm in my thirties, I've made my choices. However, if there are any young Essex Girls reading this and feeling that they are missing opportunities because of where they come from - stop it, now. Be proud of yourself and your county. You will encounter many challenges and obstacles in your life - coming from Essex should not be one of them.

(Ooh - I went a bit ranty there. Do go along to the day - it looks like fun.)

Trolls

2010-02-23T14:30:00.003Z

Along with all the brilliance of internet forums (fora?), with their support and virtual friendship comes a rather disturbing phenomenon - trolls. People who write lies or deliberately provocative posts in order to get a reaction.

Over at Mumsnet at the moment, there is a huge amount of discussion regarding a poster called Dizzymare who shared a very traumatic story which turns out to have been made up. (Or so it appears, the details are still a little shady.) Some people doubted her story from the start, but others became involved with her on Mumsnet and in real life and are now deeply hurt to find out they've been duped.

I don't know why I'm posting this really; except I think I can sort of understand why lonely people might tell lies on the internet, in order to get sympathy and feel wanted. However, I struggle to understand how this particular poster could have used genuinely bereaved parents to support her own fantasy world. It's been playing on my mind, that's all.

Thanks for that, EssexSprogBoy

2010-02-08T09:58:00.003Z

I'm not stupid. I know that in the past I looked a lot better than I do these days. That's why I avoid mirrors and wear thick glasses that make me look a little like Ronnie Corbett and divert the eye away from my wrinkles.

However, despite knowing this, I secretly hope that my children think I am the most beautiful creature in the world. A natural goddess. I hope they look at me and think, "Wow! We have such a lovely mum."

But no. This morning, as soon as I got out of bed, EssexSprogBoy walked over to me brandishing my make-up bag.

"Put your paint on, Mummy," he said. "Now."

And I did. In fact, I may never take it off.

Where Have I Been?

2010-02-07T07:17:00.002Z

I haven't posted on here for weeks. I'm asking myself why and I have no idea. Do you ever have those days that whizz by in a blur and yet, when you try to think what you've actually done, the answer is Not Much? I seem to be having a lot of those days at the moment.

(I know that I must have done an awful lot of washing because the ironing basket is overflowing. But washing doesn't take that long. I'm putting it in the machine, not travelling down to the Blackwater and beating my Primark on the riverside rocks.)

Oh! I did join the drama group after all.

This is how my life works. After much patheticness and angsty soul-searching, I make a decision to not join the drama group. Then, a couple of weeks ago, the doorbell rang (at 8.15 at night! EssexHusband and I immediately went into a game of Doorbell Chicken; lots of "Who can that be?" but not moving from the sofa. Who would crack and actually answer the door?* It's a good game, works for the phone too.) and it was YoungColleague and ColleagueA (that's a rubbish pseudonym, but I'm tired), who are both in said drama group.

"We're desperate!" they chorused. "Could you come along and read, just for tonight?"

"OK!" I chirruped, at this stage having no idea of what lay ahead.

I was then taken in the rain to the village hall and introduced to the rest of the group who looked utterly bemused at my bedraggled arrival.

"Have you ever done any acting before?" Asked the Director.

"Not since I was 18," I replied, confident that this wouldn't matter because (as you will see if you re-read above), I was under the impression that I was there only to stand in and read for that one night. (Excuse the bolding, but that point is important.)

So, at the end of the reading, when the Director told me that rehearsals are twice a week and the play is being performed in April, I of course said, "Great! Count me in!" I may have even flourished my jazz hands.

When I got home and told EssexHusband that I had accidentally agreed to take on one of the main roles, he gave me a hug infused with sympathy.

"Of course you have, TypicalEssexGirl. I wouldn't have expected anything else."

* EssexHusband cracked first and answered the door. I am the undisputed queen of Doorbell Chicken.

Essex Festivals - A Bit Of Culture For You

2010-01-16T06:31:00.002Z

Though I have never attended a single event of the Essex Book Festival, I always read the brochure ooh-ing and ahh-ing at authors and vowing I'll go Next Year.

Well, it is Next Year now so I'm going to make some bookings and have some literary nights out (as opposed to my usual nights out when I get giddy and awful from the excitement of being out of the house in the evening and have to spend the next day calling all my friends and apologising.)

And Chelmsford has got its own film festival too, with a line up of ten classic films that are all worth a watch or a re-watch. (As part of the festival, Essex residents were asked to vote for their favourite film and the winner was The Shawshank Redemption. Which is a great film, but I'm slightly disappointed that Grease didn't make the top ten.)

To Am-Dram or Not To Am-Dram?

2010-01-14T07:28:00.003Z

When I was younger (much younger, almost half my life ago) I dreamt of being an actress. I took a few classes and an A-Level in Theatre Studies (though, as my A-Levels coincided with Discovering Boys, I was not as dedicated as I perhaps should have been. Sixth form may seem late for that side of life, but I went to an all girls school before that and was not one of the Pretty Girls, so sixth form was my first opportunity to talk to real life boys who weren't my brother. It was scary, "Agh! A boy spoke to me!" I shall recommend that EssexSprogGirl leaves it even later. Even though she will, of course, be one of the Pretty Girls.)

Anyway, when a girl from my school ended up on the telly and in films with Hugh Grant, I was so bitter with jealousy that I spurned acting forever. That way I could pretend I had never really wanted to do it in the first place. So, I put acting away in a box marked "Do Not Open" and left it there to languish.

But now (dah, dah, daaaahhhh!) I want to open the box. This week I have seen my local drama club's pantomime and also the first episode of Glee. Together, they have ignited the flame of my inner drama queen and I want to be in that drama club, singing Don't Stop Believing and waving my jazz hands.

But I'm a little bit scared. But being a little bit scared and doing nothing gets you nowhere. So, should I make my way to the village hall and join in the drama fun? Should I?

New Year 2010

2010-01-07T08:15:00.003Z

Happy New Year, everyone!

As I mentioned at the beginning of 2009, I love the new year. When you're like me, and often fuelled by a kernel of mild self-loathing, the new year brings the opportunity to start afresh. Well, at least the opportunity to intend to start afresh, which will do just as well.

I just had a quick look at the resolutions I made last year. Hmmm. Let's pretend I didn't, because now it's 2010 and I can start afresh.

So, this year, I plan to write more, scatter kindness, laugh more, cry less, work harder, be a better friend, hoover upstairs occasionally, save some money, watch less telly, read more, lose two stone (of course), worry less, party more (children's parties at Krazy Kidz do not count, though if they did, I would surely be classed as a Party Animal), apologise less, dance more and spend less money on cosmetic and toiletries I use once in the hope of a miracle, then put in a basket in the bedroom never to be seen again.

That should do. For now.

Oh, and of course, enjoy everything our lovely county has to offer. (Maybe not everything; I don't think I'll ever read Jodie Marsh's autobiography.)

Christmas (Part One)

2009-12-07T12:25:00.004Z

There is a lot of excitement in the TypicalEssex household as We Love Christmas. The tree is up and has been decorated quite beautifully.

Soon after the tree was finished, EssexSprogBoy started to undecorate it, so I am now viewing the tree as a work of continual changing art. I hang a bauble; EssexSprogBoy removes one and throws it behind the sofa. And so on. And so on.

So far, the tree has only been knocked over three times. Not bad in two and a half days. Once by the kittens. Once by EssexSprogBoy (of course; I think we'll all be disappointed if he hasn't knocked it over at least a couple or three more times by new year) and once by me, whilst trying to perform an act of contortion and reach behind the tree to turn off the lights.

EssexSprogGirl performed in her first school nativity last week. Oh my goodness. If there is anything cuter than reception children dressed up as angels and singing Away In A Manger, I have no idea what it could be. (Puppies, perhaps? Dressed up as bunnies? Aw, look at the ickle bunnypups. Yes, that could be cuter.)

Right. All I need to do now is start my Christmas shopping, stock up on Advocaat and dig out my santa hat and I'll be ready for the festive fun ahead.

Cat and Police

2009-11-14T06:44:00.002Z

Yesterday, EssexSprogBoy and I left braved the afternoon rain to go and collect EssexSprogGirl from school. (I say braved - EssexSprogBoy was cosy in his pushchair under a plastic raincover and I was sporting a rather fetching cagoule. I'd have never worn a cagoule in London.)

Just as we were passing the enormous houses by the village hall, I heard a jingle and knew my cats were near by. (They have bells on their collars rather than being a new breed of jingling cat. Though that would be great. As long as there was an off switch. Ooh, perhaps they could light up too. Perfect Christmas gift, Though, of course, cats are not just for Christmas so perhaps not so perfect.)

I decided to outfox the cats and stop them following us by dashing off at a great speed. Well, as great a speed as a middle-aged mum can muster whilst pushing an enormous pushchair ocupied by an enormous EssexSprogBoy.

There I was, rushing along, glancing over my shoulder and whooping to EssexSprogBoy, "I think we lost them!" when I noticed two policemen watching me with concern. I imagine they must have thought I was either escaping from a village mugger or had just committed a burglary and was fleeing the scene with my booty in the pushchair, pursued by angry home-owners. They were clearly not too concerned though, as they gave just the slightest movement on to the soles of their feet, perhaps preparing to help or arrest as appropriate.

I thought I'd best explain so, as I went past, I raised a hand, gave a cheery smile and yelled, "Cats following me!"

They must have thought I had a phobia or hatred, but I could see them both relax back on to their heels, knowing the village was safe once again.

Make A Difference Day

2009-10-18T22:20:00.002+01:00

Apparently, 31st October is officially Make A Difference Day, according to this report in the Maldon and Burnham. Volunteers in the Maldon district will be handing out kindness kits to help us all be a little bit nicer to each other.

Aw. I like this idea. Underneath my tough and gnarly outer shell, I'm a bit of a dopey soft sack really. (Just so long as it really is only one day. Being nice all year round would be exhausting. Oh, and I'm not going to be knitting anyone an i-Pod cover. Honestly, that's taking kindness a bit too far.)

Maldon Road Trip - A Musical Delight

2009-10-18T07:53:00.002+01:00

MyBigSister must have been feeling homesick for Essex and hankering after a musical trip down the memory lanes of her youth. I cannot imagine any other reason that she would have fed the words 'Maldon' and 'song' in to YouTube and discovered this. A song about Maldon!

(About time Maldon had its slice of the rock and roll pie, especially now Witham's all about Olly Murs.)

I Feel A Bit Old Again

2009-10-15T09:38:00.004+01:00

I have a newish job and a newish 20 year old colleague who seems to view me, age-wise, as the same generation as his father.

The trouble is, the more I try to prove how young and 'down with the kids' I am, the more desperate and sad I appear.

So, YoungColleague asked me if I had heard of The White Stripes (by chance I have, but only because EssexHusband listens to modern music and sometimes I accidentally hear it and get to mutter about it all being noise and can we put some Elvis on now please.)

Me - "Yes! Of course I have!"

YoungColleague - "So, which of their songs do you like?" .

Me - "Erm..." (Suddenly finding some very important work to do which means conversation must end Right Now.)

And even when I have heard of a band (do Young People use the term 'band'? It conjures up images of the Beatles. Group? Pop combo?) it backfires and I still look old.

YoungColleague - "Do you know Nirvana?"

Me (with delight) - "Yes! Yes! I was listening to Nirvana 18 years ago. Oh. When you were two..."

What's On This Weekend?

2009-09-18T10:32:00.002+01:00

You could start with a trip to the Maldon Regatta. Lots going on, including races, fancy dress competition, a barbecue and - good news for me (see previous post) - a rubber duck race.

Or go to the Witham Puppet Festival which apparently is pretty amazing, though I have to confess I have never been. Perhaps I'll go along tomorrow.

Perhaps you'd like a cat? Then get yourself along to the Cat Rehoming Day in Southend.

(On this topic - yesterday I was visited by two Jehovah's Witnesses. As I am at times, Too Nice For My Own Good, I was extra smily and friendly. Then they spotted my cats. Lady J.W. said, "Oh, we used to have two cats. Then they fell asleep under our neighbour's car and he killed them both as he reversed out of his drive." "Oh," I replied. "Well, erm, thanks for the chat and the leaflet and the cat-death story and stuff.")

Ducks

2009-09-18T09:52:00.009+01:00

We appear to have some sort of duck infestation. Whilst ambling round the house today, I found several ducks in all sorts of places.

It started off quite normally, with one in the bathroom. Nothing strange there; after all, we have children and children cannot bathe without an abundance of plastic toys sharing the water. It's the law, I believe.

Then, I found one by the front door, perhaps hoping for a hall-way flood so it could swim away and escape.

Then, two in the airing cupboard.. .

And then, weary with ambling, I went to the kitchen for a snack and found two in the fridge, having a chat on the ham.

I have a somewhat suspicious mind, so found EssexSprogBoy and asked,

"Have you been hiding rubber ducks round the house?"

To which he replied, "Er..... no."

So, there we have irrefutable proof of his innocence. And I have a mystery on my hands.

(It reminded me of when I was a young girl. We were given three ducks by a friend. A year later, we had 21 and as a family we walked down to our local fishing lake, all with a duck tucked under each arm.)

Community Picnic

2009-09-01T11:19:00.002+01:00

Yesterday, the sun was shining, the children were grumping, I was frazzled and a trip out of the house was desperately needed.

So, we went to a community picnic, organised by the Parish Council. EssexSprogGirl was
un-thrilled by the idea ("Do we have to go? It sounds booooriiinnng!") and EssexSprogBoy was happy to go anywhere as long as it involved crisps.

Well, it was all a bit brilliant, really.

I provided a gourmet picnic of quavers, chocolate and fruit shoots and the parish council provided a magician. As part of one of his tricks, he asked me to pour out a line of sugar, then commented on its neatness and suggested I may be prone to a spot of Kerry Katona style cocaine partying. I blushed partly because I'm not (though I am partial to an Iceland prawn ring), but also because I was sitting next to the village priest, who doesn't need to hear that sort of thing.

And, Talking Of The Mercury...

2009-08-29T09:48:00.001+01:00

... I want to go to this too.

Barry Norman's Favourite Films

This icon of the small screen shows some of his favourite clips and talks about the stars of the silver screen, most of whom he has interviewed.As presenter of the BBC’s cinema review for 26 years, Barry Norman became a household name. This is a unique opportunity for the theatre going film lover to meet the man who has so many great stories to tell of his favourite films.

What's On At The Mercury

2009-08-29T09:42:00.002+01:00

This looks rather fascinating.

Depot by Gari Jones

Occupying the 1930s Tram Shed on Magdalen Street, Depot is a promenade performance, featuring some of Colchester’s hidden voices, lost souls and forgotten stories.

Watch for our elusive hooded boy as he travels through a series of individual stories from across Colchester's history, and as they are woven together in a mixed media production.

Told using film, music, projection, installation and live action, Depot will be performed by Mercury Company actors and local residents.This is a walk-about event, and part of the performance will be outside so please dress accordingly. More information will be available when booking tickets.Depot is part of GIFT… a month of different arts events in Colchester celebrating the town’s history and people. Depot features a specially commissioned film by Mary Lee-Woolf.

First Two Performances £8.50
Tue & Sun £12.00
Wed & Thu £13.50
Fri & Sat £15.00

V Festival

2009-08-29T09:14:00.003+01:00

I have a strange compulsion to go to V next year, even though I loathe all modern music and last time I attended a festival (Glastonbury 1993), I ended up with a kidney infection, as I tried to avoid the toilets by not drinking for three days. (As a plan, it was flawed on several levels.)

I wonder if this is the start of a mid-life crisis.

(Next week, I will be serving up cold meats and pickled onions at a fund-raising dance at the village hall. Perhaps I should see how I get on there before making a foolish festival ticket purchase.)

Happy Birthday EssexDad

2009-08-20T10:36:00.003+01:00

It's my dad's birthday today, so I thought I'd write a few words to him on here (as I know he reads it, even though he pretends otherwise).

Then, I thought, "But, what shall I write?"

And then I thought, perhaps a few thank yous are in order.

So,

Dad,

Thank you for helping me learn to ride my blue bike.

Thank you for digging a special patch of the garden for me when I decided I must grow my own flowers and not complaining when I promptly lost interest.

Thank you for letting me sleep in with you when I was scared of shadows in my room.

Thank you for driving me and my friends to various theatres and concerts, all over Essex and London.

Thank you for teaching me that boredom is not an option; the world's a fascinating place and there's always something to spark my interest.

Thank you for taking me to drama lessons; I may not be Elizabeth Taylor, but at least I never now have to wonder, "What if...?"

Thank you for making me look normal again after an ill-advised attempt to cut my own hair.

Thank you for never giving up on me, even when I must have been jangling your very last nerve.

Thank you for instilling in me the wonder of birthdays. You never work on yours and I never work on mine.

Thank you for sharing with me your love of great music and taking me to see some pretty amazing concerts.

And this is just the tip...

Happy birthday, EssexDad. Have a wonderful day - you deserve it.

Real Grown Ups

2009-08-19T12:35:00.003+01:00

At a recent family party, EssexHusband's 10 year old cousin came running up to where a group of us were sitting, all in our late 20s, early 30s and with various offspring running around.

"Help!" She shouted, "I need to find the grown-ups!"

"Well, we're grown-ups..." My sister-in-law replied.

"Not you lot," responded young cousin. "The real grown-ups."

Ouch. That hurts. And yet, makes me feel rather young and cool too.

School Is Looming

2009-08-19T12:16:00.002+01:00

EssexSprogGirl starts school in two short weeks and I find myself to be a tangle of emotions.

Some days, EssexSprogGirl might have a whinge because about her breakfast is not milky enough (because she has left it to stand for two hours, rather than - as she insists - that I have somehow made it 'wrong' and it's not fair). Some days, she might shout at me, because I let her brother ring the doorbell rather than her (even though I have keys and know no-one is at home). On these days, I think to myself that school can't come soon enough and I'll be glad to let someone else deal with her ways for a change.

"Ha!" I say sneakily to myself (out of her earshot, of course, I am tired but not stupid), "Wait until you get to school; they'll sort you out."

Some days, like today, she will be trying to ride her bike and asking EssexHusband interested questions about how brakes work. On these days, as I watch her face light up with fascination as her daddy turns the bike upside for a quick lesson in mechanics, I think that she will flourish at school and they'll be lucky to have such a keen mind in their midst. (What am I saying, a keen mind? The girl is clearly a genius.)

And other days, as she cuddles up to me after a bath, or cries after falling over or laughs at the word bogey, I can only think with welling eyes:

"Oh my goodness, my baby's going to school!"

(On a completely selfish note, how on earth have I got managed to become old enough to have a child at school?)

Horrid Photo

2009-08-18T17:11:00.003+01:00

I have just seen the most awful photo of myself - all chins and stomachs and teeth.

I feel I may have to eat some cake to make myself feel better and recover from the horror.

Fussy Eaters

2009-08-06T07:49:00.002+01:00

EssexSprogGirl could perhaps be labelled as a fussy eater. At the moment, her diet consists of onion rings, spaghetti hoops, toast and jam sandwiches.

Some people claim that fussy eaters are made by over-indulgent parents. I was mulling this over just now as I was scraping dark brown bits off EssexSprogGirl's toast with my fingernails after her careful inspection of said toast proved it was not up to her exacting standards.

Hmmm... sounds like a nonsensical theory to me.

Maldon, Maldon, Maldon

2009-08-05T19:07:00.003+01:00

I found out on Facebook that an old schoolfriend from Maldon is reading this blog.

("Hello!")

So, I thought I'd have a squizz at what's going on in Maldon and do a short summary for her.

Well, these sure are exciting times; Maldon is getting a flashy new website, featuring a blog by the mayor. (Hmmm - will it be a rival for this blog? I shall be keeping a very close eye on Mr. Mayor. )

Ooh, this looks good; Maldon is going to have a new Food and Produce Festival. Yum.

Parks in the district have been rated as some of the best in the country. I love Maldon Prom. I don't even mind that the swimming lake is no longer in use, even though I have fond memories of floating around on it in an inflatable dinghy with my friend Katie. It has a great splash park there now, highly recommended on a lovely summer's day.

Councillors have made an apology after refusing to give money to the Maldon Art Trail because they couldn't believe that the organisers needed £38,000. Well, actually, they didn't need that amount, nor did they ask for it - they simply quoted that figure to demonstrate much it would cost if the volunteers were paid. Which they're not. Because they are volunteers. See Maldon District Council? I got it really quickly; you should have done too.

I hope that sates your appetite for Maldon news just for a while, OldSchoolFriend.

(I was unimpressed by Maldon as a child and teen (especially as a teen; it only had one Young Person's Clothes Shop - Dorothy Perkins - and even that didn't open until about 1992.) Now, I think it is lovely. Though still not great for clothes shopping. Though I do sometimes wonder whether buying all my clothes from a shop called Chic would make me a little more, well, chic. Would my friends gasp at my appearance?

"ATypicalEssexGirl, you look so chic!"

I may well need to conduct an experiment in style.)

1jjvM\M L./N.\//..;

2009-08-05T14:06:00.002+01:00

Hello Googlers

2009-07-21T06:37:00.002+01:00

Through the use of some whizzy technology, I can tell who has landed on this blog through Google (well, I can't tell who exactly, that would be very creepy - but I can see what people have Googled to lead them here.) By analysing the number of people who read the blog for 0 seconds (most people, sadly), I am assuming that my tales of old neighbours, toddler groups and battles with my weight are not providing a lot of internet satisfaction, so I thought I would attempt to help.

Here is a picture of (and interesting article about) a Typical Essex Girl. I would guess that about 99% of Essex Girls look exactly like this. All my friends do. I am the only one who bucks the trend with my brown hair.

Here is some information about Buggyfit in Essex.

Swine flu information from Maldon District Council.

Sadly, I found it very difficult to find Jokes About Loft Ladders, but I hope these general DIY funnies will go some way to tickling the very specific humour taste buds of one Googler.

Got a buggy? Want to get fit? Try Buggyfit.

2009-07-10T06:39:00.002+01:00

Guess what? I've joined a gym. Yes, me, I've joined a gym.

I find myself dropping this fact into every conversation I have. For example,

Friend - "I'm off to Tesco; do you need anything?"

Me - "No, I'll probably pop in After I've Been To The Gym."

Or

Friend - "How are the kids?"

Me - "No idea. I barely see them as I'm Always At The Gym."

Or even

Friend - "Have you had your hair cut?"

Me - "Yes. It kept getting in my way At The Gym."

See, it's really easy to do. I actually joined the gym after a hair cut. The hair looked brilliant (thanks again, Lena at Thairapy), but sadly I didn't. So, I wandered down the road, saw the gym and thought "Why not?" Turns out there are loads of reasons why not - the pain, the sweat, the humiliation of being less fit than pensioners after heart surgery (my gym also caters for post-op recovery), but hey, it's an hour to myself three times a week and that's like honey to this blubbery bee.

I have two personal trainers (also a fact I love to drop in to conversation) who are kind enough to never laugh at me, even last week when, near to tears, I jumped off the cross trainer claiming dramatically, "I just can't do anymore!" (It was a bit like the transition period of childbirth, when you get to that point of telling the midwife that you've changed your mind and would like to go home now thank you.) My friend, let's call her RedFriend (on account of her hair, not her communist leanings) inadvertently hinted to EssexHusband that I may have been having an affair with one or both of my trainers, such is my new love for the gym. Goodness, were I foolish enough to attempt to get involved with another man , it certainly wouldn't be with someone who's seen me do any form of exercise.

Anyway, I've just read in the Essex Chronicle that my two trainers have started new Buggyfit classes in Maldon in conjunction with the Children's Centre, so you'll get them at a reduced rate. If EssexSprogBoy would sit in his pushchair for longer than ten minutes before screaming, "Out. Out! OUT!", I would join in myself.

As it is, I shall continue my visits to the gym. Oh, did I mention that I Go To The Gym?

Shock Story of Teenager Not Being Awful

2009-07-09T13:46:00.003+01:00

If one were to believe the press, it would seem that teenagers these days are one huge feral mob, intent on killing each other, beating up puppies and falling pregnant at every opportunity. And that's when they can be bothered to get off their computers and stop eating (they're all obese, apparently, apart from all the girls who worship at the altar of Beckham.)

Hang on though, it seems that all this hyperbole might not be truly accurate. It turns out that some teenagers are quietly going about their business of doing amazing things.

Such as Essex teenager Lucy-Ellen Revell who has been nominated for a Diana Award for being an outstanding carer to her mum and for being so helpful to others at her school.

Aw.

Do Kittens Eat Cheese?

2009-07-09T10:31:00.002+01:00

I only ask because I have just been in the kitchen where I found EssexSprogBoy proffering a fishslice covered with half a tub of Dairylea at our new kittens. On the floor was one of my bracelets, also covered in cheese spread.

Father's Day

2009-06-21T16:40:00.003+01:00

The irony of Father's Day is that the biggest treat of all would be to spend a child-free day, lounging around in pyjamas and drinking beer. For EssexHusband, however, this was to be more of a normal day - stopping the children from fighting, practicing the art of zen-like patience in the face of constant whining and watching EssexSprogBoy's favourite Peppa Pig DVD.... again and again. EssexSprogGirl woke him up at 6am by poking him in the forehead and asking him if he was asleep (I only knew about this when she roared in to the front room, crying, "Daaaddyyy told me to go awaaayyyy.")

I had been pondering the best way to spend the day and found my answer with the Tiptree Heath Summer Fayre. It had everything; from old men in fluorescent jackets telling us where to park, to a brass band playing Abba hits. I liked it a lot.

The hot dog stand was being run by an old school friend of mine. I shall call her SportyGirl, as she was sporty at school and was wearing sporty shorts today. I recognised her at once, but after my disaster with ONNPPTALOC (see earlier posts) I didn't say hello. I don't think I can handle not being remembered any more. That's the trouble with being 'beige'.

(Though, before I descend in to self-pity, I actually have a positive story to convey. On Thursday, I went to a meeting at EssexSprogGirl's primary school, which was also my school, and one of my old teachers remembered me. I almost cried. EssexSister and I have been talking recently about how old this teacher was when she taught us; she told me she has two and a half years until retirement, so I would guess she is 57 now - meaning she was 32 when I was in her class. Wow, younger than I am now... and she seemed so grown up at the time. )

EssexHusband and EssexSprogGirl did a bit of pond-dipping, we watched some Punch and Judy, the children were given balloon animals and EssexSprogBoy made only one bid for freedom from his pushchair, running all the way to the exit before I caught him. A good day.

(It was all organised by the Essex Wildlife Trust who run all manner of exciting events through the year. Have a look at their website here.)

Village Carnival

2009-06-20T17:15:00.003+01:00

Having re-invented myself as some sort of junior level stalwart of the community, I am becoming increasingly fixated on the idea of reinstating the village carnival which has not been staged for many years. I think it should become a joint event with the village next door; we could call it the Dual Carnival (pronouncing carnival in a rather odd way - car-ni-vule - no, that's a bit rubbish, isn't it?)

One slight problem is that I have no idea how to organise such an event. I'm a mum; the most complicated thing I organise each day is cooking nuggets or fishfingers for the children to poke at disdainfully before ignoring in favour of chocolate. Why do I think I could organise a carnival? I don't have the answer, but I just have this feeling that in a couple of years, people will once again be lining the streets to watch three or four lorries decorated with tissue paper glide through the village, ridden by miserable Brownies who would rather be watching telly. I can't wait.

Actually, I do have one good idea. I thought I could invite former carnival queens and princesses from the two villages, give them sashes and plastic tiaras and ask them to walk regally between the floats. And guess who happened to be a carnival princess in 1985? Yes, me! I think as organiser, I will even give myself prime position right at the front of the parade.

Keep every Saturday free in June 2011 just in case I make this happen.

Village Fayre

2009-06-10T07:33:00.003+01:00

The annual church summer fayre was held on Saturday. With my new media influence, I was able to advertise in the columns at the back of the local paper and also on the Mumsnet Mid-Essex local site (Rupert Murdoch is running scared - run, Rupy, run).

When we woke up on the morning (at 5.15am - thank you EssexSprogBoy) it was raining. EssexSprogGirl and I stood at the window and stared glumly into the sad weather.

"I expect no-one will go," said EssexSprogGirl. "I expect we'll be the only ones there..." (She now looks near to tears.) "We'll be LONELY!" (The tears have now arrived; proper falling-off-the-chin full-of-sorrow tears.)

I turned to hug her, to ease her pain, to heal the aching void in her heart.

"Ugh! Get off mummy. You smell of cheese!"

Oh. Interesting.

EssexGrandma came to look after EssexSprogBoy, while we went to set up our stall. EssexSprogBoy has now learned to say, "Please, Grandma," ("Peese, Gan-Ma) whenever he wants something. EssexGrandma cannot resist this. She thinks I am too strict. She would think I was a tyrant if I said no to EssexSprogBoy if he wandered in to the front room holding paraffin and matches. I was slightly worried I would return to find EssexGrandma tied to a burning pyre, quite happy crocheting, with the explanation, "Well, he said please."

Luckily, the fayre was in aid of the church and our local priest obviously has some influence with He Who Is In Charge Of Weather. The sun came out, the people arrived in not quite droves, but certainly a steady stream. Our stall was ingenious. Punters had to pick a straw out of a box filled with sand. If they were lucky, the straw would have a purple tip and punter would win one of a selection of prizes (including Tesco Value crayons, bubble mixture or a biro). We called it Lucky Straws. We would have attracted quite a crowd, I'm sure, but EssexGrandma kept standing in front of the sign. Despite this, EssexSprogGirl and I made £15 on our stall. A good result.

(EssexSprogGirl also discovered a love for Glen Miller, which was being piped through loud speakers and had a very happy time, dancing in the middle of the field on her own, ending each dance with a jazz-tinged curtsey. I love her.)

East Anglian Boy

2009-05-30T17:39:00.002+01:00

This has made me laugh a lot today.

Good News and Bad News

2009-05-29T13:08:00.002+01:00

EssexSprogGirl ran towards me yesterday, breathless with excitement.

"I have some good news and some bad news!"

"OK," I replied. "Tell me the good news and then the bad news."

"Good news is, I saw a bird on the floor!" She then adopted a sad face, "Bad news is it was dead."

Community Involvement

2009-05-27T17:09:00.003+01:00

I don't know what's happening to me. When I lived in London, I was happy to go from work to home (somtimes via the pub) and lock the front door behind me. If I accidentally saw one of my neighbours, I might make a bit of half-hearted small talk, but at the same time I'd be using my very limited Jedi mind powers; "Stop this conversation right now. I am a Londoner - I do not want to talk. I am not the neighbour you are looking for." And, I think that my neighbour would probably be doing the same.

I didn't mix, I wasn't part of the Bermondsey community. In fact, until I had EssexSprogGirl and started attending Tumble Tots and Whippersnappers, I had no idea where the local community centre was. I was certainly not a joiner (as in the 'joining things' sense, rather than the woodworking sense. Though I should clarify I am not one of those joiners either.)

So, I feel the air in my village must be having some sort of hypnotic effect on me as I find myself a member of the church committee, a member of the Edward Bear group committee (though, in my defence, our leader does always provide a glass of wine at meetings) and now I am the 'Village Correspondent' for two - yes, two! - villages in the local paper. How on earth has this happened to me? How will I find time for Facebooking and watching The Rachel Zoe Project?

(Oh, if you have any village news, please let me know. I am worried I shall have to resort to making up a lot of it. I may just rehash the plots of Eastenders.)

Another Essex Blog

2009-05-15T06:51:00.003+01:00

If you want to read a blog that is also about Essex and paremting, but is quite a bit less superficial and more informative than this one then I recommend Sarah Arrow's blog.

I've been up with EssexSprogBoy since 5.15am this morning (he just loves these light mornings in the summer) and have been thoroughly entertained by Sarah's writing. In fact, goodness me, it's almost 7am! Where's the time gone?

Swine Flu

2009-05-14T23:24:00.002+01:00

I've just read that Swine Flu has come to Essex. Yikes.

Well, except that I don't really know if I'm supposed to be scared or not. I've read the leaflet that popped through our door. All about how if you sneeze in your hand, it's good to wash your hand afterwards. Surely washing is good anyway? Never great to walk around with sneezey-hands?

As I've mentioned before, my life is governed by CBeebies. Andy and Sid and Cerrie and Alex don't seem scared, so I won't be either. Keep it shallow. That's my motto.

Essex Summer Of Art

2009-05-09T09:27:00.002+01:00

This is fantastic. Over the last few years, there have been several Art Trails running throughout Essex. These have mostly been run by intrepid volunteers, usually with one inspired individual at the helm.

Essex County Council have always supported these Art Trails, with funding and publicity and this year, they've all being publicised together under the Essex Summer Of Art. Now, I don't claim to be artistic (I'm more of the, "I know what I like" school and at the moment, that tends to be pictures made of dry pasta and lashings of glue,) but I do love to see Essex associated with such an exciting and cultured event. I don't think Jodie Marsh will be visiting any of the venues, dressed in two belts and a strategically placed paintbrush. Goodness, I really hope she doesn't, though I guess it would bring some extra publicity.

Having been involved (on a tiny scale) with it last year, I am particularly fond of the Maldon Art Trail and am not ashamed to plug it to my five much-appreciated readers.

EssexSprogGirl Lays Down The Law

2009-05-08T11:32:00.002+01:00

Yesterday, EssexSprogGirl came to me with a serious expression on her face.

"Mummy, "she said. "We need some rules in this house."

Me - (admiring EssexSprogGirl's maturity and thinking this could be a great opportunity to introduce some light chores), "Oh, O.K! First rule could be...."

"No, Mummy. I'll decide the rules."

Me - "Right....."

EssexSprogGirl - "First rule is, you can't tell me what to do. Second rule is, if you do tell me what to do, I don't have to do it."

Well, I for one am glad that's cleared up.To be honest, I was finding this parenting lark all rather exhausting anyway. At least this way, I don't even have to pretend to be charge any more. I can get on with important things, like Facebook and Mumsnet, and let EssexSprogGirl assume the role of Alpha Female in the house. So much more relaxing to be the Beta.

Again, It's Been Too Long

2009-04-27T06:21:00.002+01:00

EssexSprogGirl has been on her two weeks holiday from nursery. Like most mums, I panic before the holidays, worrying that spending every waking hour with my children will be of detriment to my well-being and general health. So, like most mums, I make sure that every day is filled with some sort of life-enriching and educational activity.

So, in the first week we had various lunches, parties and visits to the hell-near-Freeport known as Krazy Kids and in the second week we had various lunches, parties and trips to Colchester.

It did the trick. I am happy to report that my mental health has never been better. And nursery resumed last week, so it continues to improve every day.

(I should emphasise though that I am not one of those mums who view their children as a blot on their perfect life landscape. On the contrary, EssexSprogGirl and EssexSprogBoy are the source of most of my joy. However, I still like the fact that nursery exists. And so does EssexSprogGirl. Well, I think she does. I collect her and cheerily ask, "Did you have fun today?" The answer is generally, "No. The ladies made me sit on a chair.")

Anti-Social Behaviour On the Rise In Maldon

2009-04-18T07:37:00.002+01:00

The Maldon and Burnham doesn't specify what this anti-social behaviour entails, so I like to imagine it's a case of not returning phone calls or attending parties.

Perhaps the people of Heybridge are just very happy with their own company.

Maldon Junk Swap - April 25th

2009-04-18T07:32:00.003+01:00

Are you having a clear out? I seem to be doing this permanently so if you fancy swapping any of my junk for yours, come along to the Junk Swap.

(We have boxes in the loft that we put there when we moved 18 months ago. Logic would suggest that this is Stuff We Do Not Need, but I laugh in the face of logic and its sensible suggestions.)

A Look In The Mirror

2009-04-18T07:23:00.002+01:00

EssexDad has told me off for referring to myself as an old hag in a previous post. He says he doesn't like it when I'm mean to myself.

Sorry Dad.

(Am off to look in the mirror and exclaim, "Wow-ee! Looking good!" I may even give myself a cheeky wink.)

What Nonsense Is This?

2009-04-16T17:17:00.002+01:00

Kylie - step away from the Wiggles! Watch her wiggling her bottom at An-thon-ee. He belongs to us mums, you miniature temptress.

Bah.

EssexSprogBoy

2009-04-16T17:08:00.002+01:00

I've realised that I haven't talked about EssexSprogBoy for a while. This is not because he is uninteresting or unloveable, simply that my mind has been filled with libraries, Jade and goats.

So, an update.

Yesterday, we visited Sussex SIL and BIL. As soon as we arrived, EssexSprogBoy started mooching for trouble. He knew there was mischief to be making and he was the perfect person to make it. I watched as he prowled around the house, seeking out objects to destroy.

"What are you rebelling against, Johnny?" I asked, in despair. (His name isn't really Johnny. I just put that for effect. His name is, of course, EssexSprogBoy.)

In response, he leaned against a shelf, gave a grin and smashed a china kangaroo to the ground. I think Brando would have done exactly the same.

Do You Like Goats and Tea?

2009-04-07T16:03:00.003+01:00

Did you answer yes? Then get yourself over to Springstep Goat Farm in Mundon where you can combine the two. (Oh, and if you like Stilton and walnut pie then this place may be as close to heaven on earth as you will ever find.)

An Update on EssexSprogGirl

2009-04-07T15:42:00.003+01:00

This week, I have had to buy a new calendar as my old one was so full of EssexSprogGirl's social life that I couldn't find space to write on any of my exciting engagements (such as my visit to Specsavers in Witham).

EssexSprogGirl is constantly receiving invitations to play and go to parties. She is usually very, very excited by such invites until the time comes for her to actually leave my side. You would think that I was planning to feed her to evil pigs if you could hear her wail, "Nooooooo. Don't make me gooooo." (And, just for good measure, she makes a horrible fuss when I come to take her home, "Noooooo. I don't like going home! I want to live here!")

We found out this week that she has definitely got in to our local primary school, which also happens to be my old primary school. (Of course it didn't really just happen to be my old school. It's not as if I moved here and suddenly thought, "Wow this place looks familiar. Haven't I been here before?" I did live in the next village along for 18 years and knew where I had gone to school. Just because no-one else remembers me does not mean that I do not remember myself. Though sometimes I do look in the mirror and think, "Gosh - who is that old hag and why is she blocking my view?")

I am hoping that EssexSprogGirl will follow in my hallowed footsteps to become winner of the Needlework Cup, one of Pharoah's backing singers in a production of Joseph and perhaps even a hymnsheet monitor. Though do they have hymnsheets any more? Do they even sing hymns any more?

(One of my MumFriends has advised me that to give your child the best possible chance at school, it is important to Become Involved. She did not specify exactly what I should Become Involved in, but it all sounds rather sinister. Any advice will be very welcome.)

Things To Do In April

2009-03-29T08:12:00.002+01:00

A few dates for your diary.

6th to 16th April - Bottle feed the lambs at Layer Marney Tower.

6th to 19th April - Easter Fun Days at Barleylands, Billericay.

12th and 13th April - It's Easter! at Layer Marney Tower.

12th April to 15th July - John Bellany exhibition at Fry Art Gallery in Saffron Walden. Worth going just to mingle with all those super-intelligent Saffron Walderners.

15th to 18th April - Maldon Beer Festival.

18th and 19th April - Jousting at Cressing Temple.

Now, just to make it very clear -I'm not organising any of these events (helping out at the church fete is about the extent of my community input) so don't go leaving any nasty comments for me if they're cancelled or not much fun.

What's Happened To Chantelle?

2009-03-28T08:13:00.004Z

When I started this blog, I claimed that I had been inspired by Chantelle and that I would forever more consider her to be my muse,

And now look at me! I'm boring you with stories of the library and beige and barely mentioning Essex's brightest star. So I thought I'd do a search and see what she's been doing.

Well, apparently she's been in Mexico, wearing a bikini made of astroturf. Lovely. Well, who hasn't looked at fake grass and thought, "Now that would make brilliant swimwear."

(Ooh, I wonder if they make them in my size. Obviously though I'd go for the all-in-one with 'hidden support'. I could wear it down at Bramston - though I'd worry about shedding green clippings in the shallow end.)

The Forgotten Part Two

2009-03-22T20:09:00.005Z

Guess who I saw today? ONNAPTALOC! Yes. him! I went to the park with EssexMum, MIL, FIL and NanaJ, plus EssexHusband and the Children.... well, there he was.

"Look, EssexMum, there's ONNAPTALOC!"

"Oh yes," Says EssexMum

"Hello - I'm EssexMum..." Says EssexMum

He looks at me.

"Are you stalking me?"

Me, "No! It's just I've known you since I was two and you don't remember me."

Me - as he walks away - " Erm, see you in another twenty years?"

Beige Is A State Of Mind

2009-03-21T13:37:00.002Z

This has been on my mind for a while so I thought I'd share it.

I bought new curtains, which I then left behind the sofa hoping the Curtain Fairy would put them up (which she didn't, but my wonderful MIL did.)

While they were behind the sofa, I offered to show them to a friend.

"Yes please!" She said. Then, "Oh, don't bother actually. They'll just be beige won't they?"

Is this me then? Am I Beige? Is this why no-one remembers me? What can I do to improve matters? Perhaps beige is OK, perhaps it signifies peacefulness and calm. It doesn't though, does it? It signifies...blah.

(For anyone interested the curtains are chocolate with teal flowers, according to the packaging. So brown and blue then.)

Have you heard of Saffron Walden?

2009-03-20T09:31:00.002Z

I have, vaguely. I think I used to have a friend who lived there (see - my memory is not freakish after all).

Well, if you care about your children's education and want to stay in Essex, I think you should move there (or send your children to school/board there). I was amazed to read today that out of the 16 Essex schools (from 618) that appear in the Good Schools Guide, 5 are in Saffron Walden. That's almost a third of them. In one 'medium sized town'.

How did I not know that this before? Surely this is an astounding fact?

My old school is also one of the 16, though not in Saffron Walden. And I think that my results were probably not included.

I Am A Redeemed Quizzer

2009-03-15T23:24:00.004Z

I went to a quiz earlier today with my soon to be sister-in-law (let's call her SussexSIL). She let me join her usual Sunday night team and..... we won.

Yay!

Sample questions are:

In the kitchen, what is a mandolin used for?

In poker, how many different suits would make up a flush? (Thanks, EssexDad for pointing out my complete error on that question.... it should be: In poker, how many cards of the same suit make up a flush? I think that was it anyway. SussexSIL got the answer while I gazed dumbly into my diet coke.)

What is a litter of piglets called?

For how many years did Queen Victoria reign?

Answers:

Slicing

Five

A farrow

64

Essex Girls are set for £1,000,000 boost

2009-03-13T08:47:00.003Z

So says the Essex Chronicle who report that the Essex Girl image is set to get a makeover, thanks to the Essex Women's Advisory Group. The purpose of this group is to promote the self esteem of Essex Girls; address the needs of younger Essex females, set up an endowment fund to assist Essex based women's charities, to help Essex girls be successful in business and to work to promote Essex as a place to visit, live in and work.

Excellent. So who are the patrons of this group? There's Baroness Platt of Writtle - a long-time advocate of women's rights, a champion of encouraging young women to pursue careers in science and engineering and proud Essex Girl. There's Elizabeth Hart - another Conservative, but also the Chairman of Essex County Council - an example of women rising to the top in a world traditionallly dominated by men. OK, their politics might not be my cup of tea, but I like to see brains being used.

So, who's the third patron? Who have they chosen to inspire and motivate the young women of Essex to achieve their best?

Is it Stella Creasy - 'Essex girl', and one of the leading young lights of the Labour Party?

Is it Sally Gunnell - 'Essex girl' and the only woman who has managed to hold the European, World, Commonwealth and Olympic 400 metre hurdles titles all at the same time?

Is it any one of the many women who are changing the stereotype of Essex girls by using their brains and business acumen?

No.... it's blonde bombshell Penny Lancaster, famous for being Rod Stewart's wife and having such long legs (36 inches apparently) that she found it hard to do the quickstep on Strictly Come Dancing.

Marvellous. So inspiring. Why not ask Jodie Marsh?

Maldon - A Bit Radioactive

2009-03-12T10:04:00.002Z

Thanks to my dear friend HackneyHackette, I have been alerted to a local news story that I seem to have completely missed (as I only watch CBeebies and the Tweenies are very slack on their Essex news angle.)

Apparently, Bradwell power station was leaking radioactive material for 14 years. Read about it here.

Is this something I should add to my worry list? The very fact that I hadn't heard about it (yet still know the name of every guest who attended Jade Goody's christening) would suggest that this is not Big News. Yet, living quite close to Bradwell, I can't shake the nagging feeling that this is quite serious. What happened when the leaking stopped? Did they manage to hoover up all the dodgy material using some sort of space age Dyson or does it simply melt into the atmosphere and become part of the world we eat and breathe?

I really wish the Tweenies would address this issue properly. I need answers.

The Forgotten

2009-03-11T21:37:00.002Z

Today at toddler group, I saw a boy (well, man I guess, about a year older than me) who used to be my neighbour until I was two and then was a family friend until I was probably around ten or eleven.

I went up to him and said, "Aren't you OldNeighbourNowObviouslyParentToAtLeastOneChild?"

"Yes," he replied looking alarmed (as well he might, it is not really the done thing to talk to the very few men who are brave enough to come to toddler group.)

"I'm ATypicalEssexGirl!" I announced with glee.

Blank look from ONNOPTALOC.

"You know me! I was your neighbour! You came to our parties! My parents are EssexDad and EssexMum! Erm.... You've got two brothers!" (I don't know why I thought this would help. As if he had amnesia and had forgotten his own family and that my prompt would help him remember them and thus my part in their childhood....)

"Oh," replied ONNOPTALOC. "I do remember your mum and dad. And I remember them having two children, older than me..."

"Yes!" I replied, quite manic by this point (you can tell by the amount of exclamation marks I'm using.) "And they also had me!"

"Wow, you've got a really good memory," he replied nervously before walking away, pretending his children needed him. "Give my regards to your parents, won't you?"

No I won't. Not until you remember who I am. Next week I am taking some of my birthday party photos as evidence.

(ONNOPTALOC is the third person I have recently re-met who has claimed I must have some sort of freakish memory to know who they are as they have absolutely no recollection of ever having met me before. And these are people I was friends with, people I saw a lot. Not just, for instance, the lady I asked for directions when I was in Harrow in 1998 (who I would probably still recognise.)

I now feel compelled to contact everyone I have ever met just to see if they remember me.)

Essex is the Reading Capital of the UK

2009-03-11T20:54:00.004Z

Yes, it's true.

According to library statistics, more books are borrowed in Essex than in any other county. I quote from the Essex Chronicle,

"Chelmsford library issued the second highest number of books in the country last year, dishing out a staggering 742,048 – just behind the top Norfolk and Norwich Millennium library – and almost 30,000 more books than in 2007. Southend library ranked sixth with 609,667 books issued and Colchester library placed 15th in the country for the number of visits."

So, as long as people are actually reading the books they borrow, rather than using them to prop up wobbly tables or suchlike, then I think we can safely take this as an indisputable indictaion of the intellectual prowess of the county. Take that, Norfolk!

Books I've Read This Year #8 - The Outcast by Sadie Jones

2009-03-09T10:18:00.002Z

Another book that I'm not sure whether I enjoyed or not. It was certainly compelling and perhaps that's enough. Every character, bar one, was thoroughly unlikeable, but still the protagonist had my sympathy at the end. Interesting.

Read it. Let me know what you think.

Old Lady's Hobby

2009-03-09T10:12:00.002Z

Do not read this if you're eating....

Last week, I was taking EssexSprogGirl to one of the very many parties that fill the social diary of a four year old. As we walked past the primary school, an old lady stopped and turned to me.

"I do that," she said, pointing to the ground.

I looked down, expecting to see some flowers or, I don't know, anything other than what I saw.

On the ground was a paper plate, with a pile of dog mess on it, a date and the words Please Clear This Up.

"Every time I see a pile, I write the date on a plate and then scoop it on," the lady explained, a glimmer of fury in her eyes.

"Marvellous!" I replied and walked off, gagging just a little. And perhaps you are too now.

Quiz Night

2009-03-09T09:53:00.003Z

Last week, I went to the quiz night at our local church. Teams were supposed to be made up of six, but I was confident that my team of three could hold their own and display a level of intellect that would see us safely into the the top five (out of ten).

We came last.

We were whizzing along at first - other teams actually gasped when they saw we'd got 6 out of ten on the film tagline round (example question, "Which film's tagline was The Greatest Fairytale Never Told?*")

However, that first round was definitely our high point. I usually love a quiz, but this was hard. And it got even harder witht the round. 'How Well Do You Know Your Bible?' Answer - not at all, apparently.

"We'll be fine", I bragged before the round started, "I've got an R.E. A-Level." This is true, I have. Sadly, I took R.E. A-Level because you only had to go to lessons for two hours, every other Wednesday and even then I often found it difficult to muster up the energy to attend. (Mum and Dad, if you're reading this, of course this is a lie. I was always where I should have been.)

Example question, "Who wrestled with God all night?*" We guessed Giant Haystacks, but apparently not. Question ten involved putting the books of the Old Testament in the correct order. Who could do this? Well, loads of people it seems as everyone else seemed to get it right. Even though we only scored 3 out of 10 on this round, the team next to us still accused us of cheating and copying their answers. To be honest, if we were going to cheat, we would have tried to listen in on the vicar's team (who I still maintain had an unfair advantage on this round.)

Last. The shame. Still, my team-mate brought pistachios, and cakes which were delicious and we were awarded the booby prize of lemons.

*Answers: Shrek, Jacob, and.... I'll let you look up the Old Testament for yourself.

I'm back

2009-03-09T09:50:00.002Z

I've been back from New Zealand for quite a while now, but sadly lacking when it comes to blog writing. So, I'll ease in with a couple of brief postings on life in the village...

Books I Have Read This Year #7 - Mr Maybe by Jane Green

2009-02-18T21:50:00.003Z

Woman meets man with no money, who doesn't want a relationship,just casual couplings but he's handsome, so that's OK. They break up when he realises that, as an adult, she might want more out of life, but he cannot commit to her because he is too handsome to say no to other women.

Woman then meets man who is ugly (he has a moustache) and bad in bed (which makes her jolly cross indeed), but very rich, so she agrees to marry him.

Woman then realises that she doesn't love 'tache-man, because all her friends (including poor but handsome man) think he is pompous. They break up. (I think we are supposed to consider woman to be noble at this point, rather than be horrified that she would even consider marrying a man she clearly hates just because he has money.)

Woman then decides she needs some time to herself, but within about five pages is back with poor man who - hurrah!- has got a major publishing deal so will be rich after all.

I do hope I haven't spoiled the plot for anyone who was planning to read this.

Books I Have Read This Year #6 - The Summer Garden by Paullina Simons

2009-02-18T21:36:00.003Z

I am a huge fan of Paullina Simons. I love the way she writes, her descriptive powers and her beautiful use of language. I enjoy the her style of writing about the minutiae of emotion even when narrating epic themes.

However, I struggled with this book. I found the plot confusing at times, and couldn't understand why so many important events were being alluded to, but not explained. Despite this, I was drawn into the story and into the lives of Tatiana and Alexander, though I found their history rather frustratingly complicated.

I decided to have a look on Amazon, where I found a piece of very useful information. The Summer Garden is part three of a trilogy! Aha. That explains rather alot.

I would recommend that you read this, but, probably best to read the first two books before you do. Which is what I will do when I get home.

(Obviously, I didn't love all of it - towards the end I found all the Reagan stuff a little Tom Clancyish and overblown. And I thought the ending rather hurried and confused.)

Lost Dog

2009-02-07T06:54:00.003Z

A couple of days ago, we were driving around in New Zealand and came across a small dog, which ran out in front of our car and then proceeded to chase us. Being caring types, EssexHusband and I decided to stop and see if its owners were around (and were aware their dog was getting its fun from playing with cars.)

The poor dog was soaking wet and shivering and, despite our attempts, no owners could be found. So, we decided to do what we thought was the right thing; we lured the dog into our car by making the appropriate, "Here doggy, doggy," noises and report it to the authorities. (Here's an interesting piece of trivia for dog enthusiasts; in New Zealand, all dogs have to be registered once they are over a certain age and wear tags. This dog had a collar, but no tags. Actually, now I've written it, is that interesting? Yes. On reflection, I still think it is.)

We got to my sister's house and she thought it would be best to call the local vet for advice. I could only hear one side of the conversation, and it went like this:

MyBigSister "...found a dog....need advice....no tags....small Jack Russell type....er, no. I don't want to keep it, I've already got two dogs. Would like it to be returned to its owners....OK, I'll call the dog ranger....thanks, bye."

(There was more than that, but the bit to note is where the vet asked if my sister would like to keep the dog. Not what we expected, but not as surprising as what was to come.)

The dog ranger then called and I'll try to summarise here:

Dog Ranger "Hello. I hear you've got a dog you want put down."

MyBigSister (in shocked tones) "Er no. We don't want it put down! We want to return it to its owners."

Dog Ranger "Well, you realise I'll probably have to put it down don't you? Wouldn't you like to keep it?"

MyBigSister "No. I've already got two dogs."

Eventually, the dog ranger said he would talk to a lady who owns alpacas on the road where we found the dog, see if she knew its owner and then come and collect it. Later, the dog ranger turned up at our door.

Dog Ranger "Alpaca lady didn't know whose dog it is. Are you sure you don't want to keep it? You know I'll have to shoot it, don't you? I can only keep it for seven days."

Me (stunned, mouth open guppy-like) "...."

Dog Ranger "I'm not an ogre, you know. Such a shame. You should have left it there really. We always say ignore the ones in the country. Sad to shoot them. Good ratting dogs these. Are you sure you don't want it?"

MyBigSister "I've got dogs....etc...etc..."

Dog Ranger "It could belong to the druggies who live on **** ****. They go up that road to collect their stuff (he mimes smoking). Doesn't bother me, not my job. Should have just left it. Dogs always know where they're going. Shame to shoot it. Bye-ee. I'll let you know what happens."

I needed a moment to compose myself and rid my conscience of the haunting thoughts that I'd need to re-name myself TypicalEssexGirlResponsibleForDogKilling. This made me feel rather sad, which is ironic as the dog ranger/killer was quite a cheerful soul.

Anyway, got a call later. Turns out the dog did belong to the druggies who live on ***** *****. Wonder why they didn't notice she'd escaped?

I love a happy ending. (The moral is - if you're ever in New Zealand and see a lost dog, just close your eyes and drive on by. Well, close your eyes if you're the passenger. Drivers should always keep their eyes open.)

Books I Have Read This Year #5 - My Favourite Wife by Tony Parsons

2009-02-05T18:48:00.002Z

I imagine this is how Tony Parsons writes his novels.

He leafs through Man and Boy and says to himself, "Adultery, Japan, parenting, man's relationship with his father, barely-veiled attack on Julie Burchill...mix it all together and ta-dah, my latest masterpiece is complete. Hang on a minute though, I'll set this one in China. That'll fox 'em."

I really need to stop reading Tony Parson's books.

Books I Have Read This Year #4 - The Private Lives of Pippa Lee by Rebecca Miller

2009-02-05T18:29:00.002Z

This book had received some brilliant reviews so I was expecting a great things. After finishing it, I must assume the reviewers had only read two books ever, the other one being Mike, Mike and Me, making Pippa Lee seem wonderful in comparison.

It wasn't bad. Just left me feeling a bit deflated.

Taking Essex Abroad

2009-01-30T10:06:00.003Z

I've been away for a while. Away from my blog and away from home. And now I'm back on the blog. Though still away from home.

I'm in New Zealand, bringing a little bit of Essex to the North Island. At the moment, I'm in Rotorua which is beautiful, but sadly smells of bad egg. Much like me - though unfortunately I am not beautiful. (And I blame the lingering smell of bad egg on the mucky hands of EssexSprogBoy.)

Books I Have Read This Year # 3 - Mike. Mike and Me by Wendy Markham

2009-01-13T15:53:00.002Z

The story of a woman trying to choose between two men called Mike. Actually even less interesting than it sounds because, in an attempt to introduce an exciting twist (that you can spot in about chapter three), the author makes both the Mikes merge into one unformed character.

Why do I even read books like this? How do they get published? I know that I'm extremely guilty of often thinking, "I could do better than that", but really, EssexSprogBoy could do better than this and he only knows eight words.

(If anyone is interested, here are the eight words - Iggle (when watching Night Garden), Dora, Tigger, Light, Byeeeee, Hello, Thank you, Bundle (shouted with extreme glee whilst launching himself on anyone foolish enough to sit on the floor.) A good mix of TV and mischief there.)

Wickham Bishops Library Refurb Sparks Geographical Argument Amongst Comment Makers

2009-01-11T22:34:00.006Z

Oh, this did make me giggle. Not the story, nothing hilarious about a library refubishment, but rather the comments the story provoked on the Essex Chronicle website.

'Holy Moly the Tony' was indignant with rage that Wickham Bishops should be included under news about Witham. "Since when was Wickham Bishops anywhere near Witham?" he splutters. (Well, forever, I should think. Seeing as it's the village next door.) Luckily, help is at hand from 'Geography Teacher' who gives him directions (down the Maldon Road and past the golf club...) and asks, "Have you never been out of Witham?"

I imagine Holy Moly the Tony as similar to Jim Carey in The Truman Show; living his life all comfy in Witham's kindly hug, living in fear of what lurks the other side of Blue Mills Bridge. Imagine if he went the other way and discovered Freeport!

http://www.thisistotalessex.co.uk/chronicle/Library-makeover/article-591529-detail/article.html

I liked the final paragraph of Addition

2009-01-11T09:22:00.003Z

I know, I know, I'm a bit of a new-age weirdy at times, but this touched me, so I'm going to share it.

"Many people miss their whole lives you know. Listen, life isn't when you are standing on top of a mountain looking at the sunset. Life isn't waiting at the altar or the moment your child is born or that time you were swimming in deep water and a dolphin came up alongside you. These are fragments. Ten or twelve grains of sand spread throughout your entire existence. These are not life. Life is brushing your teeth or making a sandwich or watching the news or waiting for the bus. Or walking. Every day, thousands of tiny events happen and if you're not watching, if you're not careful, if you don't capture them and make them count, you could miss it.

You could miss your whole life."

I'm off to brush my teeth now.

Books I've read this year #2 - Additions by Toni Jordan

2009-01-09T14:00:00.002Z

I shocked EssexHusband by finishing this book and exclaiming, "I really enjoyed that!" He's always asking me why I read so much when I clearly hate most books. Which is a good point.

Anyway... rather engaging heroine, interesting twist on the girl-meets-boy story. And the ending really appealed to the Pollyanna hippy chick in me.

Not my favourite book ever (that's the Argos catalogue), but I did like this a lot.

School Reunions

2009-01-07T20:24:00.002Z

This year, my secondary school turns 100 and is apparently planning a year of spectacular events to celebrate, including some school reunions.

I don't look back at my school day with any particular fondness. It was an all-girls grammar school, where I was neither the cleverest (when I went in after GCSE results came out, I was told by a kindly maths teacher that mine were the worst in the year), the prettiest (I always thought this was Rebecca Smith), the skinniest (darn those anorexic girls!), the most popular (bah to the in-gang) nor the funniest (though I may have perhaps been the most sarcastic). I was sort of average. Well, actually, in the big scheme of the school, I was well below average. The one part of school life that I do treasure is the friends I made. I have no idea how it happened, but I was lucky enough to befriend some of the brightest, kindest and generally loveliest girls I've ever known. And now, I feel doubly lucky, because I'm still friends with them and they are now some of the brightest, kindest and generally loveliest women I have ever known.

OK gushing over. I left school at the end of the fifth year to go to a local college where I discovered drink and boys and felt like I'd found my niche... Oh, and yes, I did manage to get some A-Levels.

Anyway, I'm 34 now, so this is all sort of irrelevant, except that I have this very strange and irrational temptation to attend all the reunions. If I don't think too deeply, I can even feel a tiny bit wistful about my schooldays - larking about with friends, singing in the choir and avoiding games lessons. I suddenly don't feel so bitter after all. Maybe I'm growing up.

But, what if I go along to the reunions and the environment and meeting all those terribly impressive girls from my past means I regress to my old, miserable self? What if I don't manage to lose two stone and everyone else is still really skinny with brilliant hair? What if I get children envy when I look at others' baby pictures and come home thinking my two aren't that special after all? (Ah no, as if that could happen.)

What if everyone remembers me as that slightly stupid, grumpy character and I feel obliged to spend the whole time smiling inanely to prove how nice I am these days? What if, worst of all, no-one remembers me at all?

Would you go? Should I go?

Books I've Read This Year

2009-01-05T23:46:00.002Z

I am stealing an idea from a rather wonderful blogger and keeping a list of all the books I have read this year.

Haven't finished any yet, but currently reading The Girl In Times Square by Paullina Simons. Will review when finished, but looking hopeful so far.

Maldon Mud Race

2009-01-05T23:37:00.001Z

You've got to love this.

http://www.maldonmudrace.com/

Ooh - a new year.

2009-01-03T20:49:00.003Z

I love the new year. It always feels full of delicious promise. I conveniently choose to forget the fact that I am one of life's under-achievers and instead imagine myself as one of those go-getting types who actually does stuff. (Though, perhaps I am being unfair to myself. I do stuff. Today, I ate some toast. And I removed some wallpaper using a fish slice, because I couldn't be bothered to walk three meteres to the garage to find the proper wallpaper removing gadget.. Oh, and I put away some saucepans that EssexSprogBoy had brought into the front room. Always my favourite task of the day. I watched a bit of Celebrity Big Brother and sighed when Michelle Heaton came on the screen. And now I'm typing this. That's loads of stuff in one short day.)

Last year, I actually made and kept some resolutions. I found my 2008 list which read:

1) Make friends in our new village (Sounds simple, but tricky when you're socially dysfunctional like me. But I managed. Obviously I am still desperately playing at being A Nice Person like Chantelle and haven't shown them the inner Piers Morgan that lurks beneath my pleasant surface.)
2) Join a writing group (I did! I did!)
3) Send off a short story to a magazine (I did this too and it was accepted. Honestly it was.)

So, all going rather well until we reach...

4) Lose two stone.

(My only consolation at being so well-padded, is that it must be nice for friends I haven't seen for years to be able to tell other friends who I knew back when I was slim, "Guess what! I saw ATypicalEssexGirl and she's really fat now!" Everyone likes to pass on that bit of gossip about a once thin friend so really I'm performing a kind of public service.)

This year, my resolutions are:

1) Send off at least another two short stories to magazines.
2) Have at least one date night a month with EssexHusband. (Sounds saucy, but I simply mean wine, takeaway and watching grown-up TV. No, not that sort of grown-up TV. Just stuff without puppets.)
3) Make at least one phone-call a week to catch up with friends.
4) Write on this blog at least once a week.

and, of course,

5) Lose two stone by the end of the year.

You can tell I used to work in Human Resources. Just noticed my resolutions are all very SMART.

Please let me know what resolutions you've made. I may be inspired and add to my list.

Happy new year everyone.

I've Been Up In The Loft Again Today

2008-12-13T01:25:00.002Z

Everyone - apply to your local council for an insulation grant. Even if you are as rich as Simon Cowell, you'll get it done for half price.

Downside is, you have to go and clear out all the junk from your loft before they come to put in the fishy-smelling insulation. You'll realise your loft is filled with Nonsense You Don't Really Need.

I have recently spent so much time in our loft, I fear I am becoming Bertha Mason.

Conversations With My Daughter Who Is Four

2008-12-13T01:00:00.005Z

Number 1

Waiting to cross a bridge where oncoming traffic has the right of way. A car is driving towards us - slowly.

Me - "For goodness sake, drive!"

EssexSprogGirl "Mummy, it might be a learner driver. You should be more patient."

Number 2

Me "What songs are you singing at your nativity play?"

EssexSprogGirl "I'm not telling you, Mummy." (I start to hum Jingle Bells.) "Don't even try to guess."

Number 3

On Wednesday, I was running late and didn't get EssexSprogBoy dressed before the nursery run.

NurseryLady (to Essex SprogBoy) "That's a nice snow suit."

EssexSprogGirl (leaning towards NurseryLady and whispering) "Yes, Mummy put him in his snowsuit so you wouldn't know he's still in his pyjamas."

Defending my Party Ethic

2008-12-10T08:52:00.006Z

The same anonymous pundit has offended me not that deeply by suggesting that Sarah Harding would not be interested in the Maldon Victorian Evenings as she is a Proper Party Person, unlike me.

Well, I shall actually be attending no less than four parties this week.

Saturday - Under Fives Christmas Bash at the village hall.
Sunday - A fourth birthday party, including bouncy castle
Thursday - A Christmas party for toddlers. With cake.
Friday - Christmas party at the nursery, with balloon animals and Santa.

Beat that, Harding.

New Haircut - Before and After Pictures

2008-12-10T08:32:00.008Z

Someone anonymous has requested before and after pictures. I am so proud of my transformation that I am thrilled to oblige.

Before

After

Wow, the power of a good haircut.

Woo-hoo!

2008-12-09T11:56:00.001Z

Blur are apparently going to reform - anyone fancy coming to see them with me?

http://www.thisistotalessex.co.uk/go/Essex-Britpop-heroes-Blur-set-reform/article-532357-detail/article.html

Sometimes I Make Up Things For My Own Amusement

2008-12-09T11:45:00.003Z

Today, a lady from Ultimo called. They had heard that I now bear a somewhat startling resemblance to Sarah Harding (though with less layers) and wondered if I would do them the honour of becoming the face and body of their new La Maman Grosse range of supportive underwear.

I considered their offer for quite a while, but eventually had to decline. What with my Edward Bear and Social Committee commitments, plus the fact that I have to spend most of my day tidying up rogue saucepans, spread around the house by EssexSprogBoy, I really don't have the time. I suggested they call Myleene Klass.

Is anyone reading this nonsense?

2008-12-07T01:38:00.001Z

If you are, please leave a comment and say hello.

New Haircut

2008-12-07T01:16:00.004Z

I plucked up courage, resisted my Fear Of Change and went to Thairapy in Witham. They were fantastic. My stylist was Lena. I took in a picture of Sarah Harding from Girls Aloud. (Let's be honest - I am more Ann Diamond.) Lena didn't laugh - she said, "Yes, we could do that. Though your hair is a lot finer." When she'd finished chopping my hair, Lena said, "I haven't given you as many layers as Sarah Harding, because she's a pop star." The implication being that I'm not. I prefer to think of myself as Undiscovered.

School Fayre

2008-12-07T00:43:00.006Z

Today we went to the Christmas Market at our local school (which I am hoping EssexSprogGirl will attend - I did. And so did YourBigSister and YourBigBrother (who hates blogs and has never posted on here so I've just made up a name for him.))

Well, EssexSprogGirl threw a Christmas tantrum almost as soon as we arrived. She had spotted some fairy wings, which we refused to buy. She screamed and yelled and shouted, whilst other parents looked on in horror. Luckily, we saw a way of diffusing the situation. We bought the fairy wings. It did the trick. Tantrum diffused.

It's December...

2008-12-01T09:26:00.003Z

...which means it's nearly,

ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, Christmas!

My decorations are in the loft. Perhaps EssexHusband can get them down for me later.

The Shame

2008-12-01T09:12:00.004Z

Last night, I had the most wonderful evening with one of my oldest friends, who I shall call OldestFriend. We started at the local pub (a place we would never have dreamed of going in our youth) and then I dragged her back to mine to continue the fun.

At some point, I decided it would be good to listen to a tape we made when we were 13. Only problem was that all my tapes have been packed away for a long time and now live in our loft. Last night though, this felt like no problem at all. So, long after midnight, I ventured into the loft and found the box of all my tapes. About 200 in total. Instead of looking for the exact tape I wanted, I thought it would be best to bring down the whole box. Luckily, I was sober enough to realise that I would need to use both my hands to help with my descent down the loft ladder. Sadly, I was not sober enough to realise that my head is not flat and that balancing a box of cassettes on it is A Bad Idea.

The crash woke EssexHusband, who was not nearly as excited as me when I declared, "I found the tape!" This morning, he put all the tapes back in the box, whilst I lay in bed having a long hard think about what I'd done.

(OldestFriend, if you're reading this, I'm so glad we're still friends and you really do get prettier with every passing year. And I'm saying that sober.)

James Bond Party Update

2008-11-30T16:27:00.001Z

I wore a black dress.

My Day Yesterday

2008-11-30T12:30:00.004Z

Yesterday morning, I worked on a stall at the church Christmas bazaar. My stall was aimed at children, so I lured them over with the promise of soft toys and sweets. One little girl won an enormous yellow, spiky fish that has been haunting my MIL's house since her son won it at a fair a few years ago. (It used to absolutely terrify Essex SprogGirl, though when she heard I was offfering it as a prize, she claimed that she needed to keep it as it was apparently her 'favourite toy ever'. ) The winning girl ran over to her mother, whooping with joy, showing off her prize and I heard the mum say, in a tone I often use myself (through a forced grin), "Gosh, how marvellous darling!"

I think it was the combination of Christmas tunes, tinsel and all-round giddiness that caused me to find myself volunteering to join the village social and fundraising committee. I felt like Victoria Beckham as I was introduced to the lovely commitee who were told, "This is ATypicalEssexGirl - she's got a computer and she loves doing admin!" Well, it's true that I have got a computer...

Maldon Victorian Evenings

2008-11-28T08:32:00.003Z

Ooh! I am looking forward to these. Obviously, when I was a teenager, I thought they were booooring. Now, I'm 34, I think they look quite magical.

http://www.itsaboutmaldon.co.uk/victorianevenings/index.shtml

Essex Girl Jokes

2008-11-27T15:47:00.002Z

Q. What's an Essex girl's favourite wine?
A. Aw, go on, take me to Lakeside, pleeeeassseee.

Q: How may Essex girls does it take to make chocolate chip cookies?
A: Five. One to make the mixture and four to peel the Smarties.

Q: What makes an Essex girl's eyes light up?
A: A torch shone in her ear.

Q.Why do Essex girls drive BMWs?
A. Because they can spell it.

Ho ho ho.

Sex Education in Primary Schools

2008-11-26T20:18:00.004Z

A friend at toddler group was telling me about the new guidelines for sex education in primary schools. I found myself reacting with a prudish, "Gosh!" and even an "Oh my!" I imagined EssexSprogGirl coming home from school aged five and relishing my discomfort as she taught me the truth about how babies are made. (I know it has something to do with drinking too much wine, but other than that....)

I realised that I was probably falling prey to DailyMailReaderSyndrome (I should point out here that I only read it very occasionally and tut and sigh throughout). So, I decided to do a bit more research and this is what I found.

By age seven children will be able to:
Name the main parts of the body (I'm guessing here that they're not referring to the ears and feet).
Recognise how their behaviour affects other people (EssexSprogBoy - aged 18 months - already knows that if he screams loudly and for a long time, it will make mummy shout).
Know that families and friends should care for each other.
Understand that animals reproduce.

So, that doesn't really sound too bad at all, does it? I don't recall anything like this when I was at primary school. (Luckily, I have an older sister and brother who showed me a book called, 'How Babies Are Made', featuring a man with a beard much like Narnia's Mr. Tumnus, but no goatee legs.) The only - ahem - personal lesson we had covered all things menstrual and was held out of school hours, just for the top year girls. It all felt rather furtive and exciting.

At secondary school, our lessons were given by an elderly woman who also taught cookery and needlework so she was obviously proficient in all the skills a real lady needs. (Husband - "Come to bed at once!" Wife - "I will, my love, but please let me finish darning your socks and making your sandwiches for tomorrow before I do.") Our lessons were called Moral Education and encompassed all of life's nasties - sex, drugs, peer pressure and alcohol. As we were a bunch of serious, academic girls, we were given an abundance of leaflets to study at our leisure. I really should dig out all my old leaflets so that I can help EssexSprogGirl with her homework when the time comes. I have a feeling that blaming it all on a bottle of Blue Nun will not go down well with her teachers.