How come that, although Easter now seems about a squillion light years ago, the easter holidays are still only halfway through?
One of the things I promised myself I’d do while the kids were home and writing was pushed down the agenda was try to get to grips with the music element on my website. (Slightly hysterical laugh.) However, Project Playlist has clearly identified me as a perennially un-cool suburban housewife who wouldn’t know an MP3 folder if it stood in front of her waving a banner, and is conspicuously refusing to have anything to do with me. (Sigh) I don’t blame it really. I think daughter #1 feels the same.
So, now I need to add 'Drastic Website Re-write' to my list of things to do. In the meantime I have at least worked out how to pop a little bit of youtube on here, so can actually bring you the fabulous Nickelback song that so brilliantly seemed to sum up the relationship between Angelo and Anna in The Italian’s Captive Virgin, and was played-- a lot, loudly-- when I was writing the early stages of the book.
Not much else to report... Yesterday I turned the fact that the children (and I) still hadn’t got dressed by 1.30 to my advantage, and made them throw open their wardrobes in ‘Posh-Outfit Challenge’; an attempt to find something to wear for a family party we’re going to this weekend, and my brother’s wedding in a few weeks time. Within moments they were all parading around in an assortment of half-forgotten items and managing to look irritatingly gorgeous. Daughter #1 unearthed a little chiffon smock top thingy I’d bought last summer (and never wore because it rained for 3 months solid) and put it on with footless tights and a miniature lilac cardigan (aged 4) which looked fashionably cropped, while Daughter #2—whose taste these days wavers between hippy and rock-chick goth—discovered a long Indian print dress which, when teamed with gold shoes, managed to look both laid back and glamorous. Daughter #3, happily stockpiling all items rejected by the other 2 as being too small, was totally spoilt for choice—torn between a raspberry pink velvet skirt (outrageously expensive, and daughter #1’s Christmas present six years ago) and a little silk shift dress.
I, meanwhile, found nothing that didn’t make me look like a farmer’s wife from a storybook or an ageing Russian shotputter.
Where did it all go wrong??
(Ah yes... I remember now. The biscuit tin.)