Biscuits

I am the proud owner of a scruffy, smelly, slightly stubborn dog.

We were thrown out of our first dog training classes because when practising recall, I would shout, "come on!" and he would run off around the room, steal other dogs toys and generally show off.  It was like I'd shouted, "Go and play!"   He has a very high pitched bark.  So high, that before we got him the breeders called him mouse because it was a squeak.  The bark, coupled with a loathing of pigeons in our garden caused the neighbour to complain and so we consulted the wonderful Rebecca from Pets in Partnership.  In half an hour, she had stopped him chasing the broom, the hoover, the mop and flies.  The pigeons would be a work in progress.  We decided that her dog training classes would be a good idea.  I warned her that we'd been thrown out of the last class but she didn't think it would be a problem.

When we started recall she said that my dog was confused.  "Come on" was used all the time for some many other things and it didn't always mean "stop what you are doing right now and come here."  As that's too long to shout in the park we decided to find another word.  We chose "Biscuits".  Now, he is absolutely brilliant he knows that biscuits means HERE NOW!

Our family has always been prone to a spot of stress-baking.  Last night, we all made something.  My son and I have recently branched out into biscuits, rather than cake.  He made strawberry and cream shortbreads.  They looked so good and I couldn't wait to try one.  After dinner I shouted, "Biscuits!" and the dog appeared at my feet looking very confused.  

A Lucky Day

There is a lot of clover on the fields at the moment.  Every time I walk the dog I am reminded of long summer days sitting on fields looking for the one mutant plant, the one with the extra leaf, the lucky four leaf clover.  My children don't seem to do this.  They are always busy, always rushing and it makes me sad that they don't have time to sit and rummage through foliage.  Mind you, the dog does love to cock his leg on a patch of clover, so maybe it's a good thing.  Clover leaves are said to represent the holy trinity of faith, hope and love and the extra leaf symbolises luck.

Last week I went on a fantastic school trip to Hyde Hall.  It was brilliant.  I came back relaxed and recharged and had taken some fantastic photos.  One child found a four-leaf clover.

When I arrived home, I discovered that I had lost the USB cable that connects the camera to the computer and so I couldn't download the fantastic pictures.  A colleague told me that they had found a lead and handed one in so I rang Hyde Hall and despite being very nice about it they were sorry but they didn't have a lead.  I ordered a new lead but when it arrived it was the wrong one.  Then I had a phone call from a lovely lady at Hyde Hall who now had my lead.

Hyde Hall is a fantastic garden and everyone should visit.  They are really nice and helpful people too.

I really enjoyed the sculptures.

 

But this sculpture is my absolute favourite.

The flowers at Hyde Hall are fantastic and I took loads of wonderful pictures but there is always a Robin trying to steal the limelight.

The best bit of any garden visit is the people......................................................... 

And thinking about what to have for dinner...............................

Toad in the Hole?

Highlight of the Year - Eurovision

We are huge Eurovision fans.  It's become a family tradition to watch the TV and eat - we eat enough to feed the whole of some of the poorer countries that enter Eurovision. This year we will be pretending there are no human rights issues in Azerbaijan and keeping our own scores in categories decided by my daughter when she was about 10.

This year, I will be sharing our family evening on my blog, writing as it happens and posting as soon as it's all over.

This year the presenters are two brides, one of whom is apparently a lawyer.  Human rights a specialist, maybe?

First up is Englebert Humperdink.  The British entry.  It's quite folky, a waltz with not too many pitch bends.  He's very pointy.  We're not bored.  There are points for the live instrument on stage, points for the fireworks, points for the contempory dancers.  Extra points in our family for the fact that he didn't die on stage, despite being in his 70's.  I would have liked him to do Mamma do the Hump!  22 points


Now it's Hungary.  A bit electronic, the singer can't sing but there are points for the fire on stage.
Despite the leather costumes it gets 24 points.

Albania next.  Strange woman with a ferret on her head, making oh noises. She has terrible skin and a set square on her ear.  We are reminded of when the Orchestra does The Good Bad and the Ugly. Ouch, my poor ears!  What is she wearing?  Pointy ears too - maybe she's an elf!  Graham Norton has just suggested that her medication is wrong.  Not many points - just 10.

Lithuania.  Love is blind.  Nice voice, sparkly blindfold.  Typical Eurovision.  Waiting for the key change and dancers to run in and rip his blindfold off. Wow - acrobatics! Is 10 points for song too much?  He doesn't get any points for instruments but  The Long Suffering Husband wants him to have extra points for the sheer number of naked women behind the screen.  Points: 27

Bosnia & Herzegovina.  She's playing her own piano that gets her extra points.  There's a strange shoulder theme happening this year - a bit vampire-like.  Eurovision seems very dark this year.  Points for wind blowing her hair around.  22 points.

Russian Grannies next.  Instant points for wanting to raise enough money to re-build their church. Oh, they're baking - cake always gets points in our house.  They could win.  It's very cute.  I hope they don't take their clothes  off but they do get good points for their traditional costume.  What have they cooked?  Show us the biscuits!  33 points - with zero for instruments.


Iceland.  A beautiful vampire.  Singing violinists get extra points but she is shaking.  It sounds very familiar.  I remember now it's the orchestra conductor's favourite. We like this and it's helping the A level music revision great discussion on texture.  28 points.


Cyprus.  Pretty dresses in fashionable colour.  We seem to be out of vampire mode.  There is a very scary looking man in black at the side of the stage.  Dancing on the Greek ruins - is this a metaphor?
The Long Suffering Husband isn't too keen on the pop socks.  22 points.

France.  We may be watching the dancers not the singers.  Trying to appeal to the UK with they Olympic theme.  Everyone who couldn't get tickets for the gymnastics could vote for this. And you can see her pants. The Nazi salute dance has been added to appeal to the Germans.  Points for the Jean Paul Gaultier dress.  18 points.

Italy.  Zilli looks like Amy Winehouse.  It's not a bad song and it's sung quite well but it scores very badly on our Eurovision criteria. 10 points.


Estonia.  Introduction to the Rose. I'm feeling quite sleepy and it's dark again.  6 points.  Graham Norton thinks it's a dark horse - not according to our scoring system.

Norway.  Very dark - scary hoodie boy but he does have a nice haircut and good teeth.  An extra point for dancing for the arm thing. He doesn't know what he's doing tonight.  He doesn't know if it's wrong or it's right.  We can tell him - it's wrong.  Points for the flames.  16 points.



One of the brides has just confused Englebert - bless him!

Azerbaijan.  There are lot's of brides in Azerbaijan.  She has a pretty voice and a father who is a high ranking member of the Azerbaijan army.  Graham is only going to say nice things.  Costurme colour change makes it looks like she's aborting a rather large fish.  When the music died.  Did she really sing that.  12 points.

Romania.  Bagpipes, drums, a strange sousaphone with trumpets stuck in the bell and an accordian.  I don't think they can be real.  That would loose them points but bagpipes should always be seen and not heard.  Hand kissing gets points as does the flames.  Shades of Duran Duran and Wild Boys - we quite like this.  27 points.

Denmark.  Live instruments.  We like Cellos, they get extra points - especially when they are played by a chap in a hoodie with a baseball cap.  Female drummer gets points.  The singer playing a guitar is good.  We like her cap but are a bit worried by the feathers and there is a another strange shoulder arrangement. 21 points


Greece.  Let's hope this isn't any good.  They really can't afford to host next year.  Knickers a bit early.    The Long Suffering Husband is arguing for extra points.  It's a bit like being forced to watch a set of strippers.  The words are good though, "oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.  I want you and your VCR."  19 points.

Sweden.  Wind, strobe lighting, dressed in rags, snow, narrowly avoiding being kicked in the head by a dancer from the audience.  It might be a bookies favourite but it only scores 16 in our house.

Turkey.  Pretty fireworks.  More vampires. Oh, Graham Norton you are so right, he does look like Sacha Baron Cohen.  I thought they were bats but they are seahorses.  It's quite fun.  They've made a ship with the dancers.  Sing with me my children.  21 points.

Spain.  Have been warned not to win.  Croyden facelift and a Greek inspired dress that's a bit too tight.  Daughter thinks she's too old - did she see Englebert?  Points for glitter in her hair.  Looks like the Spanish economy is safe.  Oh dear, key change, shouty music, wind, singers in black that's more points.  Still safe - 9 points.


Germany. My next husband,  Jamie Cullum wrote this song.  Nice piano playing don't like the hat.   Another nice song.  Shame about the dizzy camera angles and lack of dancing.  I would listen to this again but it is probably too good.  24 points.


Malta.  Familiar backing track.  Female drummer (I don't think she's really drumming!).  Singer with a big quiff.  Cool feet dancing.  Yellow trousers and gymnastics.  Sparkers.  This is going to get lots of points.  31 points.

FYR Macedonia.  Violinist.  Key change and rock moment. Eina gushna roofna noofna! 26 points.


Ireland.  Jedward.  Don't kiss the camera!  Loads of points for costume and dance.  They are fun and so bouncy.  A fountain - don't put your microphones in - everyone will know you're miming.  They did!  32 points.

Serbia.  Piano clarinet and violin.  I know this folk song.  "I've smelt some doggy poo."  That's not the words I know.  What is he doing with that stick?  No one believes it's a flute.   19 points.


Ukraine.  We can hear an elephant.  They'll get lots of points if there is an elephant on stage. She has a garden in her hair.  Not sure about the blob dancers.  They've put a video of people doing Just Dance on the Wii.  There was some removing of clothes.  25 points


Maldova.  Funny dancers wearing lampshades.  Loads of points for those dancers and watch us at the next family party - we've learnt some new moves.  It's silent movie time.  Pants!  Pants are good in Eurovision. 25 points.



Time to eat more while the votes come in.

Curse of the Squeaky Seat

For our 21st Wedding Anniversary, The Long Suffering Husband and I went to see The Woman in Black at the Fortune Theatre.

It could have been a mistake to think that at my grand old age, after a week with small children including a very successful but exhausting Summer Concert I would be the life and soul of the party on a Friday night, when I normally fall asleep at 9 as soon as I sit down after Youth Orchestra.  However, even with an early start due to noisy bird and early morning sunshine, I was very excited about a grown up evening out.

It was a beautiful evening, and we ate in a Brassiere in Covent Garden, which was looking particularly jubilant.

We always go for the the cheap seats in London Theatres.  We would rather see more shows and our budget doesn't stretch to stalls. 

The Fortune Theatre was built in 1924 and I can only assume that people were very much smaller then than they are now.  It was also quite grubby and I heard several people speculate on when it might have last been cleaned.  Our seats, in the Upper Circle were scarily steep but we were impressed with how close the stage appeared to be.  .

Sitting in the seats was a real challenge for me.  The top and bottom of my legs must be disproportional.  I had a choice.  I could perch on the edge of the seat with my feet flat on the floor or sit at the back of the seat with the seat tilted backwards and my feet stretched out on tiptoes. Also, when the show stared the people in the front row leaned forward and blocked our whole view of the stage.  Luckily, they were happy to sit back when we explained the problem to them.

The acting in this play was the best I have seen in a long time.  Orlando Wells and Michael Mears made me believe every single word and were funny too.

Everyone says this is the scariest play they have ever seen.  I have read the book, so I knew where the jumpy bits were going to be.  Despite the excellent acting the warm darkness sent by body into sleep mode.  Luckily, the occasional scream stopped me missing all of it.

Possibly the most scary thing was the squeaking noises that came from my seat as I struggled to find a comfortable position.

It must be tough being an actor in the West End.  The Fortune Theatre is opposite Theatre Royal, where Shrek is playing and people were waiting at the stage door.  One very tired looking skinny man emerged from the door and the woman said, "Are you Shrek?" When he said that he was the Wolf, she disappointedly shut her program and said, "Oh, shame!"

Actor who plays the wolf

Shrek

Warning: Do not trust me with your husband!

In my own mind, I am the least likely person to lead anyone's husband astray.  I'm not very girly, or beautiful and have very little interest in romance (as The Long Suffering Husband will tell you) but yesterday I realised that I am in possession of hidden charms.

We went on a lovely school trip to Hyde Hall, which was just like having a day off, except for the counting. (Do we still have 25 children?) and my colleague had said, "Oh, no you're not going are you?" which I thought was a little harsh as we are quite good friends.  Her husband was also going on the trip and she made me promise not to talk to him.  Apparently, last time I saw him he went out the next day and got himself  'a huge organ'.  I didn't understand how this was my fault as I have no recollection of any conversation that would inspire such an act.  Possibly, I talked about the new keyboard that I had bought for school and how excited I was about it.

Yesterday, I tried really hard not to lead him astray.  First thing in the morning I talked to him about a book, that was being sold by the book people about hedgerows.  Then at lunchtime I told him how I made my rhubarb and custard crumble cake.  And finally, I told him about the pot maker I had bought in the shop.  

I am so excited about my pot maker that I missed choir last night to start making seed pots out of newspaper.

"I'm not allowed to talk to you," he said to me, "Can I go to the shop?" he asked his wife.

I also noticed that my colleague has ordered a hedgerow book and I suspect she might be making a rhubarb and custard crumble cake this weekend.

Rhubarb and Custard Crumble Cake and Melting Moments

Whoever would have thought that I'd be such a bad influence?

The End of the World

The Long Suffering Husband has a skill that I think must be unique.  He is very good at lying on the sofa and watching films.  he never gets bored and he can watch the same film over and over again.  He enjoys a good disaster movie and this weekend he watched Deep Impact for the 6th or 7th time.

"What would you do if you knew the world was going to end?", he asked.  "Make cakes," I replied. "Eat," said our daughter.  "Out," barked the dog.

"Would you kill yourself?" he asked.   In the movie quite a lot of people did.  I never completely believe experts anyway so I could never take their word for an end-of-the-world scenario.  I would have to be there to see if they were right.  And then there would be the list to finish.  It would be dreadful to know you were going to die and not have everything ticked off your 'To Do' list.  I know none of it would be important but no one would add anything to it because they'd all be too busy panicking and it might be the only time when the list gets finished.

This is a philosophical question that puzzles thinkers, film makers and religious nuts all over the world.  People make bucket lists of things they should do before they die.  I'd like to think I'd do something positive but the truth is I would probably all run around like headless chickens, panicking and doing very little, just like everyone else but for now, I'm going to hold onto the cake fantasy.