[blogfocus sunday] a little quiet reading

My advice to Kate – keep number twos simple, girl, as the Romans did.

1. Bloody Lewisham Council is not actually the problem here this time. We've been waiting for news on this - Kate Capper explains:

Just a little follow up on my toilet problem, The toilet was looked at by a friend and was ok for a bit although now is starting to go wrong again. So i will be contacting the numbers sent to me. Would also like to say Thanks to the people that have offered help and correct phone numbers ( i say correct ...will find that out later ;-)) including Cllr Paul Bently. My daughter is now scared of the toilet (not sure why) but when i said we would get a plumber in to fix it she asked if he was going to put plums in it? Oh the joys of being 4.

2. Tiberius Gracchus offers his Dickens Football Team as a possible replacement for England. Here's a tiny fragment from it – do read it all if you haven't already done so:

Left centre half- A problematic position but Ebenezer Scrooge is a natural in it. Miserly in the beggining of the game when he never misplaces a pass in possession, his game becomes more expansive as the game advances. He is always though keen to stop the other side scoring and his grim determination to win means that he is a ferocious competitor and absolutely merciless in the tackle.

Centre-half- Betsy Trotwood fits right in here- she is strong and stubborn and has an innate positional sense. She is also a great captain for the team- a leader of men and women who has the ability both to comfort those in distress and to be ferocious with fraudulent divers. She is tough but fair.

Right centre half- Bill Sikes the thug in this lineup. Sikes is the Norman Hunter of the team- he will bite your legs and leave you on the floor afterwards. He isn't adverse to aerial challenges either and has an ability to intimidate even the most seasoned striker.

3. You'll just have to visit that Peach, the Swearing Mother to see why she's ... er ... swearing:

It all started off when I ordered some train tickets over the Virgin trains automated telephone service because I couldn't be bothered to go down to the station in person (it was raining) or struggle with the internet (don't ask). Eventually, after negotiating the seemingly endless pre-recorded voice messages I was put through to a call centre probably somewhere considerably hotter and much further away than the UK, spoke to a charming but clueless person in Bangalore or wherever it is, and ordered two return tickets from Birmingham New Street to London Euston for this Saturday. The idea was to take in a show, have a nice meal, enjoy a relaxing wedding anniversary treat. Simple.

Or so you might think.

4. Finally, rushing you the news about those toes of Tea and Margaritas and for no extra charge - Isobell's adventures:

The toes are much much better and thanks for the well wishes and great tips. In the future I`m going to attempt to knit some wool socks. Stayed tuned for that one. LOL.

That one requires some imagination. Incidentally, T&M is running one of those diagonal Lord Nazh banners – Help Make Poverty History. Well, T&M, I already have – have a swift look at the current state of my wallet. I must have the record.

Isabell

[england] where the sun never sets

First, the geography. People are forever pointing out how small Britain is but the length of the main island is 836 miles or 1329 kilometres. That's not short.

Given that most city states in the early days were relatively small and that disused Roman roads were pretty well impassable, given that the Elmet held out against the Anglian Northumbria and had little to do with the Saxon south, England as such developed pretty unevenly.

If pressed, I'd say the land from the Humber to the Firth of Forth and across to Cumbria are my extremities, York's pretty well the furthest south I'd call home but Lindisfarne is a little too far north. Beckfoot Bridge in the west riding settles the western limit.

Is this England? Well, it's as “England” as we're going to get. It's just as “England” as the Norfolk Broads [nice ladies all], Liverpool or Small Dole. But it's clearly not enough for a definition.

Wensleydale, Double Gloucester, Blue Vinney, Theakstons, Camerons, Bass, Marston's Pedigree, the pub culture [before it was destroyed by teen-binge-asbo-videoscreen-headnumbing] - do they help create a definition of England?

Drystone walls, railway embankments, signal boxes, dry fly fishing, the salmon, the chippy, mushy peas, Falling Foss, Ugglebarnby, fields and hedgerows, public walkways, shooting sticks, Coronation Street, the Archers, Tony Hancock, Barbours, wellies, anoraks [the people], football, rugby, cricket, Wimbledon [not the Crazy Gang], the Severn Bore - how am I going?

Anything with an “-oze” ending [Rumbelows, Prestos, Tescos], DIY barns outside towns, the Tube, weird names like Lunn Poly and BUPA, Gyrocheques [don't know much about these], Boots, Marks & Sparks, Covent Garden.

These are just fragments in the makeup which is England.

The cynical moving in of the EU, attempting to exploit historical regional differences, shows a complete lack of understanding of our essential cross-county battiness. It's our eccentric tastes and passive resistance which will eventually drive the invader from our shores – if they don't go out of their tree first.

There's the past I miss too - Carnaby Street, Ska music from 1980, Splodginess Abounds, the whole scene of those days. The Stranglers, Gypsy Moth IV before they stole it and burnt the Cutty Sark, Biggles and Algy's strange relationship - we could go on and on.

Some of us are stranded, far-flung from native shores but isn't this also English? From Clive of India to Milligan, we've lived all over the place and for different reasons. Philby and Burgess insisted on their copies of the Times; I personally miss Radio 4's 12 midnight chimes and the shipping forecast. I miss BBC 1's 4.52 p.m. Final Score and Doctor Who [oh how I miss this]. I miss Sunday Lunches with convivial company.

So yes, much of my life has been spent [and still is] outside that green, pleasant, maddening and frustrating land, some count me American, Australian, even Russian, my accent is an RP mess with a hint of drawl and twang but there's an Englishness inside which is forever surfacing and cannot be denied. Surely only someone as batty as an Englishman could derive some form of pleasure from this nightly entertainment:

Dogger Fisher German Bight: Northwest 7 to severe gale 9, occasionally storm 10 in Fisher and German Bight, decreasing 5 or 6 in Dogger. Rough or very rough, occasionally high at first. Wintry showers. Moderate or good.

Sublime. Reassuring. It also happens to be tonight's forecast so you'd best head for home whilst you still can.

[sunday lunch] an expat can dream

[insanity] the mark of the beast

From the philosophical accountant and honey, Ubermouth:

... the REAL crazy ones are the ones that can pull off sanity while they plot their evil …

Why do I immediately think of the EU and Julia Middleton? Sigh – s'pose it's just me. Uber explains in more detail:

What are we even doing here? Is the net just a temporary, virtual holding sanatorium until we are dragged off to Shady Pines? Worse, would we care, as long as we could take our lap tops with us?

Good point. I'm certain I've slipped into some virtual reality and Second - Lifers have it real bad. In fact, I'd prefer to exist in some sort of bubble as long as there was nature and there were friends in there with me.

[fashionisti] solutions for life

Feeling a bit thick around the waist, girls? What you need is Japanese weekend maternity. Fashionista explains:

When I could no longer squeeze my derriere into a pair Antik denims, I knew it was time to make that transition into maternity clothes. Since there were, and are, so many options available for expecting moms in terms of stylish clothing, I did not have a problem with having to let go of my skinny clothes for several months.

You can get back to the real biz some months later, once the baby is out of the way. Incidentally, before I forget it - you should order your exclusive shoe stamps now before it's too late. You know you don't want to be without them at Christmas - exclusivity has its price, I suppose.

Back to the issue of Fashionista's gorgeous child. Sent to school three days without his lunch [hell anyone can forget things and besides, there were issues], the teacher cut up rough and failed to respect Fashionista as a woman.

In fact the teacher said it was all becoming tiresome. But as one of Fashionista's commenters, Lteefaw rationalized:

Looking young and fabulous is both a blessing a curse. What’s a girl to do? You have to roll with the punches ladies!!

Personally, I think this little number below right is the answer – the Darth Vader outfit to show that pesky teacher you're not to be messed with as a woman.

Now, onto more important things. I'm forever cursed with a divan which is, well let's face it, not conducive to lying there luxuriously and getting into a bit of R&R so the water buffalo leather rug below [made from genuine water buffalos] really caught my eye.

The gunmetal grey bubble divan behind it also caught my eye.

With fabulous bubbles to pamper your sorest parts, it should do the job perfectly. My only concern is that a pair of Antik denims might catch in the fabric and burst my bubble, so to speak, so it really has to be thought out.

Perhaps if I slipped off the Antiks and lay there au naturelle, that would solve the problem and then I could dress to sit on the modula kitchen nook stools [no photos of those, sorry].

Have to think this one out. Issues, issues.

[it's rudd] howard could lose bennelong

83 Seats

58 Seats

2 Seats

State of the parties not so long ago. Howard in trouble in his own seat to a former journalist.

This was a victory for youth and congratulations to Rudd - he looks young, wholesome and an Aussie, which is the type they like downunder.

And yet there's personal sadness for me, not just because I'm a conservative, not because of any of the politics down there but because an electorate chose a young man, a young message, over a message of caution and a tired PM.

Though Howard is so much older than me that he's actually in the former generation, yet his values still resonate with me. He is from an era where G-d, Queen and country had relevance, the three Rs at school - you know the sort of thing.

With him in this near landslide went virtually the last vestige of the old societal values I grew up with. I too am starting to feel irrelevant now in this equivocal, relativistic world where national heroes are Paris Hiltons and David Beckams and where blind teenage drinking is the norm, where immigrants won't support their new country.

So, nothing for it now than to buy that Desert Eagle, barricade myself in and wait for the end.