Betty has stopped folding the ends of my loo rolls into Vs. I don’t think she liked it when I asked her to clean under the sofas and I think that might be the cause of her discontent. I gave her a bottle of Christian Dior’s Tendre Poison ‘Deodorant Fraicheur’ as an olive branch and she seemed happy about that because for a week or so the Vs returned. Time has passed however and the loo rolls once again lack […]
I remember once having a lot of ambition but recently I seem to be lacking it. This struck me yesterday while I was doing something in the kitchen. So I sat down at the table and thought about why that might be. I stared at the opposite wall and my eyes fixed themselves onto the A1 poster of the Solar System we put up for Hubert and I studied all the planets. Did you know that Pluto is no longer […]
Open Day. Colet Court School, Barnes. This is where Mr Bovary wants to send Hubert when he is seven. For much of the morning the baby and I sit in the Reception. It is perfectly silent and still until the boys are let out of their lessons and come running through during break-time, at which point it becomes tumultuous. As the boys swarm about us, the baby and I play a game of Who Will Be The a) Love Rat b) […]
On Saturday I saw Tom Parker Bowles walking out of the M & S Food Hall on the High Road so I said to Mr Bovary: ‘If ever one needed a sign to stay in Chiswick that is it .’ Mr Bovary didn’t know who he was so he muttered something about us having ‘different values’ and shook his head. Then I told him who he was and he said: ‘where where where’ charging the buggy through the shop, mowing […]
The Bachelor is running the risk of no longer being a bachelor, which means that the nanny suite at the top of his white stucco villa may soon become occupied. I know this to be the case because he has acquired a girlfriend and he brought her to meet us last Saturday. A visit to the Family Aquarium, if you like. What can I say? She is in favour of the claret red wrap dress. Black ankle boots lend her […]
This jumper is from Whistles’ ‘resort’ collection. I don’t know what that means. Its cut and cuff colours are sublime. I bought one the other day. It has brought me tremendous happiness. My own, private, sartorial resort. Maybe that is what it means.
Nurse Melanie Sparkes of Daleham Gardens Surgery, London, NW3 – alternative therapy enthusiast and far-out lover of babies (“prehshuss, prehshuss”) – was zen about performing smear tests. Lie back and relax. Breathe in. Breathe out. Here’s a chia seed for your delectation. Water will end all ills. In the Bedford Park Surgery, however, there is little zen of which to speak and much more of the opposite of zen as I discover on Tuesday. The day before, Donald Trump announces that […]
I drop Lilli off at the creche in the club for an hour or so now and then. Today when I dropped her off I took her into the room where the children play. Sandpit. Mat. Staged. Perfunctory. In the Baby Corner was a girl in her early twenties presiding over an infant lying on its stomach, wriggling, whining. The girl had that look on her face. You know the one … the one where you cannot bear to do what […]