Book No. 3 of the Year - already!

I've really rattled through my third book of the year because it's a Book Club book and the meeting is on Wednesday. Also, I enjoyed it and it was a very easy read.

So, without further ado, I present to you Call the Midwife by Jennifer Worth.

No doubt you've heard of, if not watched, the tv programme of the same name. I've watched it from the beginning; hubby has also watched the majority of the series and we both enjoy it very much, for the historical aspect as much as the storylines, characters, etc.

It's one of the dilemmas, is it not, of reading a book on which a film or tv series is based: most people find that the film/tv programme is never as good as the book (rarely the other way round, I think); alternatively, if you read the book after watching the film/tv programme, you can find your view of the book is affected by what you've seen on the big or small screen. The latter was definitely a factor for me as all my ideas of the characters/locations/experiences in the book were based on what I've seen on the tv. I'm going to take a positive view on this, because I find the tv programme enjoyable so it was lovely to picture dear old Chummy, Sister Evangelina, Sister Monica Joan, Fred the boiler man, etc, etc as I read the book. Quite a number of the stories (both good and not so good) were very similar to how they have been depicted in the tv series (Mrs Jenkins and her children who ended up in the workhouse, Conchita Warren the Spanish lady with an English husband) which was great for helping to picture the conditions in which they lived. However, it's easy to see that the book has been 'prettified' for television. The living conditions described in the book are one hundred times worse that those shown on tv, not to mention some of the birth stories - perhaps the pre-watershed Sunday evening slot isn't quite ready for the grim realities of 1950s Poplar. 

Having said all of that, I do wonder how much I would have enjoyed this book if I hadn't watched the tv series. I think that a number of the characters really need a lot of filling out (Trixie and Cynthia, for instance) and some more information on their backgrounds would be interesting - for instance Jenny, the main character, mentions having lived in Paris - I want to know why and when, but then there are three more books in the series, so perhaps we find out more if we read on! I'm definitely going to add the other books to my bookcase if I see them in a charity shop or can swap them on ReadItSwapIt.

So, if you've watched and enjoyed the tv series, I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy the book(s); otherwise, I wonder if it might be a tiny bit weak, but worth a read nonetheless, especially if modern social history is your kind of thing.

Sublime Lyme Regis

Family W has quite the thing for lovely Lyme Regis. There's something there for everyone: DC loves the arcades (plus hubby and I certainly aren't averse to the 2p machines...); hubby loves being by the sea; and I love looking round the shops and cafes.

So, last weekend while the sun was sort of shining (well, it wasn't raining) we (plus Granny) decided to take a trip to our favourite Jurassic coast destination.

First stop for me after we walked along the prom and inhaled plenty of sea air was Rinky Tinks, right on the promenade at the end of the row of beach huts - they make the most delicious hot chocolate (with cream, marshmallows and a Flake.) While Granny & I were getting the drinks, hubby and DC hot-footed it to the arcades. A good 30 minutes were then passed with 2ps being loaded into various machines, plus a mammoth 40p on Bash the Sharks (or whatever it's called) and the same again on a claw game that does at least guarantee a prize (a tiny chocolate bar...)

After that Granny, hubby & I took turns to visit the vintage/antiques warren of a place next door while DC tucked into his picnic lunch on a bench overlooking the beach. Hubby came out clutching something that is destined to be my Valentine's gift; I came out empty handed :(

Then it was time to hit the beach; we left Granny reading the paper and minding all the belongings, while the three of us took to the sands/surf (as much as you can while togged up against the cold wind.)

There were a host of pebble-shaped treasures to be found and loaded into the newly-acquired fishing net.

This is the stunning Jurassic coast as it continues eastwards towards Bridport, West Bay, Abbotsbury (home of the wonderful Lazyhill Gallery!), Weymouth and beyond.

Once the chill really set in, it was time to walk back along the prom towards town, where we settled into a coffee shop for a hot drink and a cake. The coffee shop was a useful base for each of us to nip out to the surrounding shops while DC was engrossed in a couple of episodes of Bob the Builder on the iPad (yes, I'm a good mother, aren't I?) And before we knew it, we'd spent almost the whole day in Lyme and it was time to toddle home to our little corner of deepest south Somerset.

Holiday Snaps. Part III

While the rain is pitter-pattering against the Velux in my office in the roof, what better time to look back over some sunny snaps from our holiday.

This is the lovely little town of Celebration, which was originally buily by Disney and looks so much like the all-American cherry pie/Stepford Wives kind of town that features in all feel-good movies.

This water feature in the middle of the pavement was a great hit with DC (and hubby.)

Back at the villa, I indulged in a little magazine reading, while the boys did something more energetic.

But, I wasn't to be beaten - I burned off my excess calories with a little retail therapy.

And a trip to The Cheesecake Factory enabled me to add back all those calories that were burnt while walking round the mall.

And, yes, there were only three of us eating cheesecake that evening, but it was soooo difficult to choose between all the different flavours.

The Red Velvet Cheesecake was.to.die.for. So, if anyone could ship so over to me, that would make my year. Decade. Life.

And while we're on the subject of shopping, hubby and I decided to take a trip to Target on the evening of Thanksgiving, when the Black Friday sales had just started. We were stunned. And we loved every minute of the people-watching opportunites that were presented to us.

Book No.2 of the Year

Crikey, is it really nearly two weeks since I last blogged? Where is the time going? I've been writing blog posts in my head, but not getting round to putting them on the old 'pooter. The trouble is that the computer I use the most for writing blogs is my work PC (rather than the laptop or iPad, which are great for reading blogs, not so great for writing/uploading photos), and it happens to be in my office which is at the top of the house. Once I've finished work for the day I tend to shut down this computer and then slump in front of the downstairs TV for the evening; which basically means, if I haven't written a blog post during the day, it isn't going to happen.

Anyhoo, enough of the excuses, and on to todays post which is a 'review' (in my own fashion) of the second book I've read this year: The Curse of the Pharoahs by Elizabeth Peters.

This is the second in the Amelia Peabody Murder Mystery series, featuring Egyptologists/archaeologists Amelia Peabody and her husband Radcliffe Emerson (known as Emerson), and set towards the end of the nineteenth century (1892 in this particular instance.)

This story begins with the Emersons at home in England with their small son Walter, seemingly twiddling their thumbs and dreaming of a return to Egypt. What luck, then, that Lady Baskerville should invite them to finish the excavation work begun by her husband who died in mysterious circumstances just after discovering a tomb across the Nile from Luxor (in the Valley of the Kings, I presume.) The death of Lord Baskerville and the disappearance of his assistant lead to the assumption that the tomb is cursed - hence the title of the book. More deaths (murders) occur and Amelia takes it upon herself to find out 'whodunnit', while Emerson finishes excavating the tomb (which, disappointingly for him, turns out to have already been raided by tomb robbers in years gone by).


This is only the second in the series; being the OCD-type that I am, I have to read them in order, which means I've only read two (obv.); I've found both books in the series so far easy to read, although I wasn't sure if I really enjoyed the first book (Crocodile on the Sandbank). I found the style of writing a little annoying - Amelia often addresses the reader, and I'm not sure I'm particulaly comfortable with that (not sure why that should be.) The style is the same in this book and I presume it will be the same throughout the series (which contains 19 books, I believe), although because I was expecting it, I didn't find it quite so irritating this time round - either I didn't notice it quite so much, or it didn't happen so much. Amelia is quite a gung-ho character and a bit of a know-it-all; a mix of Indiana Jones and Sherlock Holmes. Emerson is a bit of a brooding, intense kind of chap, but with his heart in the right place. The background of Egypt during the late nineteenth century is an interesting touch, especially if history and/or historical novels float your boat.

All in all, this book gets a thumbs up from me; the fact that I really wanted to crack on and read the third in the series straight away was a good indication that I enjoyed it (but I shall have to wait as this month's Book Club book takes priority.)

Exterminate, Exterminate

It's not all cross-stitch and homemade bread rolls for the country wife, you know. No sirreee; in fact, sometimes things get really glamorous, and today was no exception. Oh, if only I'd painted my nails to match the box. Red would have been good, don't you think?

Yes, that's right, today the ever-glam country wife turned rodent killer. Well, I didn't actually kill anything today, but I've set the wheels in motion and I soon hope to be enjoying a spot of taxidermy. Joke.

A couple of weeks ago we spotted a huge mound of earth inside the chicken's run; at first we thought the chooks had been making themselves an enormous dust bath and had flicked up all the dirt; it wasn't till we looked around the back of the hen house and saw this, that we realised what was going on. Sorry, the photo isn't very clear, but it's basically the entrance to a rat's nest (is nest the correct word? makes it sound all cosy.) The other entrance/exit is right inside the chickens run.

Neither hubby nor I have any desire to move the chicken house/run and confront the rat, so we've taken the coward's way out and gone for poison. Fear not, the chooks can't actually get hold of the poison themselves so they are (fingers crossed...) quite safe. Hopefully Ratty is less so. Apparently it can take one-two weeks before the rat will even eat the poison as they are very distrusting of new things, but once s/he is used to seeing the poison in the run for a while s/he will hopefully enjoy a feast and then expire. Hopefully the expiring will be done somewhere in the fields beyond our house.

It's clearly the time of year for rats to be making their presence known because at the other end of the garden yet another of the blighters has been enjoying time on the patio. Bold as brass.

After following this one's tracks in the snow over the last couple of days, I worked out that it was coming under the fence from our neighbour's garden and having a little run around on our patio. So this morning I blocked the hole that it's been using (with a highly technical device, known as the [very heave metal] base for the parasol - which clearly we're not going to be needing for the foreseeable future.) Hopefully that will do the trick. If not, I shall reach for my trusty poison once more. Just call me Cruella.
Oh, and while we're on the subject of glamour, yesterday I had a bit of a tidy up in the fridge - flicked a wet cloth at the shelves and rearranged some sticky old jars. I even rummaged around in one of the salad drawers for good measure, and that was where I found this:

I think it might have been a carrot. Now it is an unrecognisable piece of mummified vegetation. Damien Hurst would be proud - and I did this all withough the aid of formaldehyde. Perhaps I shall frame it alongside the (soon-to-be) dead rat as part of a little tableau. I think it will look quite the part, don't you?

And, on an entirely different note, thank you for the comments left on my last post about DC's shyness; it's nice to know he's not the only one! Nursery are still unsure how to handle it; we're happy to ignore it and let him just get on as he is (for the time being at least.)

Shy, Reserved, Call It What You Will

When hubby went to collect DC from nursery on Monday, one of the nursery workers pulled him aside to tell him they are a little concerned about DC. Apparently, in group situations, he's not at all keen on talking, singing, or generally joining in. One-on-one, or two, he's absolutely fine - his commuinication skills seem to be above average with the words/phrases he uses, etc. And we know all too well how much he likes to chatter, read, sing, etc when at home.

So they are calling in a child psychologist-type person to observe him in the hope of finding out whether his unwillingness to join in is, or will be, a problem. They are a little concerned because he'll be off to school in eight months at which point group situations will be something he has to contend with all day, every day. I guess they don't want his shyness (or whatever it may be) to have any negative impact on how he gets on out in the big, bad, educational world.

I'm unsure what to think about all of this. I know full well that I have never enjoyed, and still do not enjoy, speaking to a large (maybe more than three or four) group of people, unless they are people I know well, have known for a long time and know to be on the same wavelength as me. And I'm 37 years older than dear little DC, so you'd think by now I'd be ok in those sort of situations. I mentioned it to my Mum and she says I was the same when at school; the teachers often mentioned to her and Dad that I didn't like speaking up in class.

So it would seem that DC is taking after me; although I cannot think of a time when he would have seen me talking (or not, as the case may be) to a large group of people and clearly having a hard time of it. Does this mean that his shyness/reserve is genetic? Or is it simply that lots/all/some children go through a phase like this? Should we be concerned? My initial though was to worry and think about what we can do to help DC; there was also a fleeting moment of blaming myself for not providing DC with a sibling, as if that might be the solution to the issue; but then I also thought that he should be allowed to be himself, he's not even four years old - maybe he hasn't found his feet in all/any social situations just yet. We can't all be gregarious, outgoing, etc, etc, can we? Diff'rent strokes for diff'rent folks, right?

Do any fellow bloggers have any experience of this type of behaviour with their children/grandchildren/themselves? Any hints or tips or thoughts to pass on? All will be gratefully received!

Snowy Weekend

A few snaps from the snowy weekend in our village.

The back garden on Friday morning as the snow fell.

The front garden as two excited boys made a snowman at about 9am.

A trip to the village shop to stock up on essentials.

The walk home from the village shop this afternoon with the snow beginning to disappear and a beautiful sky in the background.

Country Wife :: Country Life

This is a completely true and unembellished tale from the life of a country wife.


On Saturday morning while hubby and DC were out tramping through the snowy fields, I settled myself down by the fire to do a little cross-stitching. As I stitched I thought about the things I needed/wanted to do during the rest of the day. The list included three things:

1) Go down to the woodshed and saw up some more wood for the fire
2) Make/bake some bread rolls for dinner

3) Shovel the snow off the front garden path.

And then it occured to me what a very 'country' life I had planned for myself that day; and it felt very nice indeed (not to mention very different from anything I could have imagined for myself.)

Pressies Galore!

Here's a little picture-based run down of the lovely gifts I received for Christmas this year. Please don't think that I'm showing off and saying 'Ooo, look what I got', this is just my way of documenting the kindness of my family and friends and a way of helping me remember where/who the many lovely items came from.

Firstly, some of the fabulousness from hubby. These gifts were a combination of Christmas and birthday pressies really, since we were away in the USA for my actual birthday.

At the top a selection of books, including the auotbiography of my boyband crush, John Taylor from Duran Duran, which hubby bought with absolutely no prompting from me - good woork, hubby!

In the middle some new sheepskin liners for my Ugg boots (not the slouchy suede-y ones you see yoofs trolling round shopping centres in, but proper leather ones that us old folk know to be sensible footwear), a leather birthday book so I don't have the excuse to forget anyone's special day again (unless I forget to put them in the book...), a Christmas tin, and a 2013 Cath Kidston diary.

And at the bottom some lovely Cath Kidston velvet trainers and a box of chocolates.

More gifts from hubby - a glass cake stand and trifle bowl; the trifle bowl had to be given to me early so it could be used for the Christmas trifle, as seen in the next photo.

Super Joules gilet, so that when DC starts school in September, I can hang around the school gates like a proper yummy mummy (yep, like that's going to happen.)

A slouchy cardigan from M&S. And a terrible photo of it.

And, last but not least, my favourite gift from hubby: a set of Beswick flying ducks, so I can come over all Hilda Ogden in the snug. Can't wait to get these hung on the wall.

My lovely Mum spoilt me, as usual. A voucher for the local beauty place, a DAB clock radio, lots of smellies, some bedsocks, a candle from one of my favourite home shops in the USA, and some chocolate biscuits that can only be found in Starbucks in the US.

Plus the traditional bags of goodies for the whole family from Mum. This all started when I was a student and Mum & Dad used to give me toiletries and food to take back after the Christmas holidays, and the tradition continues twenty-plus years later.

Yes, that's right, Mum buys us ketchup and soup, just like we are poor, starving students again!

Enough toiletries to open my own shop; is Mum trying to tell us something?!

And my in-laws were also very kind, giving me a large box of Santuary goodies

Some new bathroom scales (as requested - they weren't dropping hints!)

And a dustbuster; of which I seem to have not taken a photo. Again, as per request and not a hint that our home is messy (even thought it is.)

As you can see, I was spoilt rotten, but I'm not a brat (well, not much...) I hope Father Christmas was kind to you all, too.

Holiday (Remember That Far Back?) Part II

A few more snaps from our November/December trip to the US of A.

Here's a spot of cloud-writing, or whatever it's called. We watched this plane as we drove along, wondering for ages what he was going to write - we thought it was going to be 'Thanksgiving', but looks like it turned into 'Thank God This Cloud Got in the Way So I Don't Have to Write Thanksgiving'

DC (plus sword) discovers the delights of the water fountain. Mothers everywhere shudder at the germs, but not I; DC has a remarkable immune system due to the number of chocolate buttons he has eaten after they've fallen on the ground and the fact that I always forget to ask him to wash his hands when he has been playing with the chickens. Who's going to nominate me for Mother of the Year Award?

This is the park in aptly named Winter Park, a very lovely little town (or is it a suburb?) just outside  Orlando. 

Whilst there, Mum and I popped into the fab Charles Hosmer Morse Museum and admired very much its collection of Louis Comfort Tiffany glass. GEEE.ORRR.JUSS. Sorry, no photos were allowed, so you'll have to look at the website to see how lovely is the glass, etc, that they have there.

On Thanksgiving we made an early start and headed for Sea World; after our dismal outing to Disneyland a few days earlier, I wasn't looking forward to it, but it turned out to be one of the best (theme) parks we visited.

The shows were fantastic, particularly this one that featured dolphins, plus parrots that flew around the audience.

We enjoyed lunch under the watchful eye of the sharks... Yes, those are real sharks in the background, watch out DC.

Here's DC (yes, he's wearing a pyjama top, but it's his favourite and as we've already decided, I am a worthy of Mother of the Year), eating an ice cream and holding favourite bear Teddy George. A pretty perfect moment in a toddler's life.

Not to mention the fact that he'd just been on his very first rollercoaster (or roastercoaster, as he likes to call them.) Hubby and I had to tag team since DC enjoyed the coaster so much he ended up riding it six times, yes six, back to back. Puketastic.

Here he is practising his gormless expression just as the coaster was about to set off (for the umpteenth time.) 

Oh, and lest we forget amid the blue skies and balmy 70F weather, it was actually mid-November. Here are some of the lovely Christmas decorations at Sea World - the Sea of Trees.

And one last shot to show the best way to finish off a great day (if you're a toddler that is; the best way to finish off a day in my opinion is to sit on the sofa with a magazine to flick through, an episode of Corrie to watch and a box of chocolates to eat.)