Milk & Manolos

This morning the Husband announced “we’re not doing anything for Valentine’s, right ?”. This suits me fine. Perhaps a delicious meal out, but that’s as far as it goes. No nasty surprises to worry about.

Clearly I’ve been scarred by one James Brown (not THE James Brown I hasten to add, that would just be wrong) and the Valentine celebrations of 1992, when I received my first letter from ‘Bacchus‘. With much hilarity, and a little bit of intrigue I was on a mission to uncover this man of mystery. Within 3 minutes flat it was all over the school. Just who was Bacchus we wanted to know ? The letters continued for the next 4 weeks as I grew more and more wary. The line between Valentine and Stalker becoming hair thin.

Notes were exchanged via library books but still I had no clue. Amazingly romantic on one hand though slightly terrifying on another. “This dude’s watching you” I was told on a regular basis, “doesn’t that freak you out ?”. It hadn’t done, but thanks a lot, you’ve given me something to think about.

It wasn’t until 6 weeks later, that at the first of many 18th Birthday Parties I decided to take a break from getting down with Mr. Wendell, crack open my pack of ten Marlboros and slip delicately at my Malibu and diet coke (I know, it turns my stomach too, but I was only 17). There suddenly behind me I heard a voice utter definantly “I am Bacchus“. All we needed then and there was Tony Curtis and Kirk Douglas to make it a true Hollywood moment.

Nearly chocking on my Marlboro the world went into slo-mo. In the 0.1 seconds it took me to turn around, a million thoughts crashed through my mind.

And there was James Brown, the guy who sat at the back of my history class never uttering a word, sporting the bowliest of bowl haircuts and skin that could have done with a chemical peel.

I let him down gently of course. We’d shared something quite amazing - a romance that never was and he’d found himself a little place in my heart for the sheer derring do he’d displayed. From that day on we always shared a secret smile, or wink and because of him Valentine’s will never be the same.

Fast forward to 2008, and here I am with Mr Wonderful, the Husband, the pair of us mutually agreeing to bypass Valentines and couldn’t be happier. That said, I’m toying with indulging his love of chocolate with a little treat from L’Artisan du Chocolat. Not entirely alturistic I confess. Of course I’d snuffle truffle my way through a few too …

I miss Wish You Were Here.  As the cold winter nights drew in Judith Chalmers and her posse of presenters would jet here, there and everywhere to describe to us just exactly what we were missing elsewhere in the world.  Back in the early Eighties each episode was screened with much excitement as we huddled around our TV to listen to Judith’s pearls of wisdom.  Thanks to her, we spent three consecutive summer holidays in Bulgaria.  Let me tell you, back in 1982 Bulgaria was the place to be.  The phrase cheap and cheerful resounds in my head.

So now, as we battle through those winter months, I start to pull focus.  I need to plan a holiday and NOW.  A task you would think was easy, but as those of you with Munchkins of your own will know, there are other variables we to now consider.

Baby Goes 2 is the place that any discerning traveller can plan vacations galore, each and every one of them ticking the various boxes they so require.   Covering the whole scope of holidays, from villas to resort based trips, Lapland to cruises (apropos the latter, I couldn’t imagine anything worse do with a child, but who am I to judge ?) this one stop holiday shop is quite simply not to be missed.

The villa in Puglia duly booked, all that’s left to do is buy the sun cream, find the trashiest book possible and sit patiently for another four months. 

I fully admit I’m a literary slut. Not something I’m terribly proud of - how I long to be the girl that reaches for an Austin or two prior to 10 days in the sun, but oh no, no. It’s Jackie Collins and her contemporaries all the way. I do have my moments, reaching for the occasional classic or Man Booker Prize winner, but those are few and far between.

Prior to Christmas, I had mentioned to the Husband that’d I’d like Janice Dickinson’s autobiography. What I actually received was Janice Dickinson’s best selling dating guide “Check Please ! Dating, Mating and Extricating“. Was he trying to tell me something ?

In an attempt to steer the Munchkin clear of the literary version of fast food (and let’s face it, being my daughter that’s a risk), I’m ploughing my way through Beatrix Potter each night to help simulate the places that other books don’t reach.

Neatly packed in one giant tomb we sit, like a Werther’s Original advert, cosy and ready for bed, the soporific effect of Miss Potter not missed in the slightest.

As they state now that a child’s feeding habits at 4 are illustrative how they’ll be as an adult, I’m hoping the same can be said for their literary tastes.

Having long since out grown the pull of sweet shops, I’ve merely migrated from the chewy and sweet tasting to the glittery and face making. I’m a self confessed lover of make-up.

For just £ 15 you can have something that revolutionises your look and gives you a minute or two in the chair picking up tips (thank you Space NK). You can barely buy a round of coffees for that at your local Starbucks.

My latest love is Nars’ Nightbreed eyeshadow, perfect for a day to evening make-up bag. Deliciously smokey. Of course it’s slightly terrifying loading the dark powder onto your brush ready for application, but remember, she who dares wins.

The Winter months play havoc with my lips.  I guess you could say I have a strange addiction to  lip lubricators because of this.  Also, because being the old married woman I am means  it’s essential I encourage the Husband to pay as much attention as possible to this aperture. Particular when it’s described by him as a Beak.   Oh how I love my Husband !

The last time I cleared my handbag out I found a mixture of 6 lip balms and glosses hidden away in it’s deepest darkest corners, so you could say I’m somewhat an expert on the things.  My favourite being the lip smacking Kiss Mix from Eve Lom.

With a zing that gently tingles away this balm is the the work of a genius.  I feel like I’ve eaten 4 After Eights after each application.  Sans calories of course.  The neutral colour and light gloss are the perfect pick me up to a tired looking face.  Believe me I know, this face is pretty tired, particularly today after a 5 am start.

There’s something about Tatty Devine jewellery which is simply irresistible.  The mouth watering colours of the high gloss perspex akin to the effect of all that glitters to a magpie, particularly for a child of the eighties.  I want it, I want it I want it !

For years I have steered well clear of plastic appendages for fear of strolling too far down the Sue Pollard avenue, and let’s face it, it’s an easy mistake-a-to-make-a.  Tatty Devine’s jewellery is fun and ironic - sometimes the bling’s just got to make way for that. 

So the Munchkin and are off to a concert.  Oh yes, a Mr Ray concert.

Deciding to broaden her horizons, I seized the moment, credit card at the ready and booked away.  Checking out Mr Ray’s website I just know we’re going to have a ball.  I’m entirely unsure as to what to expect but a guy who can get down on a Friday morning in front of Lord knows how many kids has got to be worth seeing.

Personally, I’ll just be glad to listen to kids songs that a) aren’t sung by school children and b) aren’t accompanied by a Bon Tempi.

I SO never got over not going to that Musical Youth concert in 1982.  Can you tell ?

Today is pancake day, and come 6 pm I shall be flipping them like a pro. She said confidentially. More likely than not I shall be burning my fingers and creating a mess, subsequently encouraging the Husband get in on the act while I enjoy a glass of fine wine and nurse my war wounds.

Being the child of lapsed Catholics it’s been a family tradition to buy into the most fun aspects of the religion while having Ma and Pa carefully toss aside the less enjoyable aspects of the religion.

So, here’s my killer pancake mix.  The larder is full of maple syrup, and the freezer our favourite vanilla and toffee ice-cream.  The Husband has his squeezy lemon and Munchkin is ready to throw some raspberry jam around.

100g Plain Flour
250ml Milk
1 Egg (Medium)
Pinch of Salt                                          

Oil for frying(should make about 8)  

1. Sieve the flour into a bowl, creating a well in the middle.  Add your egg.
2. Begin to mix, gradually adding your milk.  If bubbles appear you’re doing it right. Once all the milk is added, for ease of cooking transfer to a jug. Pouring is far easier than ladling it in. 
3. Add a little oil to your pan, and heat until it just starts to smoke.
4. Add about 30 ml (or two table spoons worth) of mixture and spread it evenly across the bottom of the pan. As it starts to brown, get ready to flip.  Plastic pallet spoon at the ready.
5. Brown second side.
 
Serve immediately.   

There’s something about shopping cheap and cheerfully which just floats my boat.  To find a killer dress, a key piece for the season, for under £ 30 is somewhat of a coup.  As my dear old Ma has told me over and over again, the key is in the accessories. 

I’m so excited about this dress from Hennes, I can barely contain myself.  With some simple flat sandals and with the dusting down of my faithful Coffer bag, I shall be ready for whatever the day, or the Munchkin, throws at me.