Me and the Milkman

After 12 years in England I've finally done something I've always wanted to do - have our milk delivered. Yes, we still have milkmen in England. It's one of those lovely, old-fashioned things that I hope never changes. With the growth of the big supermarkets the milkman has taken a beating so I've deicided that it's high time we add our support to the service.

We had our first delivery this morning, two ice cold bottles of skim milk in sweet glass bottles. There were sitting on the doorstep just waiting to be collected. So good for the environment too because we just leave our empty bottles to be collected and used again. On Saturdays we're having apple juice delivered too and I've requested a catalogue to see what else we can add to the list. I can't wait to buy one of those little wire baskets to hold the bottles with a clip to attach any notes I'd like to leave for the milkman. "An extra pint on Tuesday, please.'

The sound of the milkman making his rounds would have to be in my Top Ten Sounds of England. It's right up there with the sound of the kettle boiling and the tick of the radiator on a cold morning. The deliveries are usually made around 3-4am and the milkmen do their best to be very quiet. They have electric delivery vans called milk floats (also very good for the environment). If you happen to be awake at that time you can hear the soft hum of the milk float and the gentle clink of the bottles jostling each other as they go along. Such a comforting sound and so lovely to know that your milk will be waiting for you when you wake up.

Very Lazy Sunday

Lovely, lazy Sunday here. We all got up, threw on some clothes and walked down to our new discovery - The Village Deli. It's a little coffee house/cafe/deli and just the kind of slightly shabby establishment I love. Not quite Magnolia Cafe (which is unfortunately no longer so shabby) but a decent substitute. We had a relaxed breakfast over the papers. Tobes had the 'Little Cowboy' breakfast - sausage, beans, kidneys and an English muffin. J had mushrooms and egg on a bun (plus Toby's kidneys) and I had the 'Continental' - juice, coffee, cheese, ham, some baguette and a croissant. Rosie had baby formula.

Afterwards we walked around the organic farmer's market and bought some bits and pieces for lunch - some tiny quiches, a ginger cake, some fresh strawberry and apple juice and some farmer's butter. Very excited about the butter. I don't think it will match Woolley Grange's but it's so much better than the store-bought stuff. (I don't do margarine.)

Then we came home and Tobes and J made a train out of some boxes we had from the bathroom delivery while Rosie and I sorted through her clothes. She's already out-grown all the 0-3 months stuff, is well into her 3-6 month clothes and will very soon be in the 6-9 months. Now, J is asleep on the couch, Tobes and I are stuffing ourselves with ginger cake and the old Willy Wonka with Gene Wilder is on the telly. And did I mention that it's raining? A perfect Sunday.

Just to spice things up a little, here are a couple of the pics from my 'nude' photo shoot. I was really pleased with the outcome but now that the hormones are wearing off I can't believe I did it! So glad I did, but my goodness.

AND, I don't think I've mentioned that the magazine which we're in has come out. The photo is terrible and the interview is virtually made up. We did a long interview about all kinds of things but the final product is very condensed and parts of it are completely fictional. I guess that's the way these things work. Some of it is a bit embarrassing but, again, I blame the post-pregnancy hormones. If you're interested it's the March issue of Eve magazine, the article entitled 'Are You in the Same Marriage' and that's my hand on page 53 holding the tacky red knickers.

When did life get like this?

For some reason after our lovely holiday I had scheduled a number of tiresome chores. On Thursday I had to take the car to the garage for some repairs and pick up a courtesy car. That doesn't sound so bad, but trying to move two carseats, two strollers, etc from one car to another while managing both children on my own was not fun.

On Friday I had the alarm company scheduled to come and install the new alarm system. Rosie has started teething and, after a rough night, I woke up on Friday morning with a cranky baby and an upset stomach. I was desperate for the loo but Rosie was screaming the house down so I gave her her bottle. By then it was 8.30. Tobes was at nursery and Rosie was fat and happy so I was just heading for the loo, magazine in hand, when the workmen rang the bell. Damn.

I'm one of those people who hates going to the loo in other people's homes or when people might be able to actually hear me using the bathroom. Silly, I know, but it just makes me uncomfortable. Our bathroom opens off of the little hallway which is exactly where they were installing the new alarm box so I decided to hold it. What seemed like hours and hours and HOURS later they moved into Toby's room to install some gizmo there and I saw an opportunity. Rosie was peaceful in her bouncy chair so I quickly ran to the loo planning to do the fastest poo of my life.

It was a nightmare. I could hear the guys coming to get some tools from the hallway and I felt so embarrassed that they would know that I was doing something as heinous as moving my bowels that I grabbed my electric toothbrush and turned it on. There. Now they'll think I'm just in here brushing my teeth.

So there I was, poised on the toilet. One hand holding a vibrating toothbrush, the other twisted around and ready to flush at the crucial moment so that no repulsive sounds would be heard. I had just reached the point of no return when simultaneously the doorbell went and Rosie started crying. I could hear one of the workmen saying, 'Mrs Futers? Mrs Futers?' I wanted to die.

When I finally emerged and went back into the living room I saw a pile of post on the sofa. Ah, must've been the postman at the door. A bit later one of the workmen popped his head in and said 'The postman rang and I didn't know where you were so I just put the post here for you.' So polite, so English. The flat is hardly the Taj Mahal. I'm sure he knew very well where I was - off doing a poo. Thank goodness he was so polite. I think my head might've exploded if he had actually alluded to my whereabouts. I'm a weirdo. I know.

Woolley Grange

Had the most wonderful time at Woolley Grange. The trip didn't start out terribly well when Rosie threw up all over both of us in McDonald's where we'd stopped for breakfast. We both had to change clothes so we turned up at this fancy hotel with a bunch of dirty laundry shoved into a huge McDonald's bag. Such a good look.

It did get better though and then I realised that I had packed the wrong bottles which meant that J had to make an emergency trip into Bath to buy the right kind. After that it got better and stayed better.

The hotel was amazing. It's set up as a 'luxury family hotel' and it's in a 17th century Jacobean mansion. It was so beautiful. They had what they called the Woolley Bear's Den which was an OFSTED registered playgroup. We could go there with Tobes or leave him to play while we had some quiet time. They even served the children's meals in the Den which was great. Toby loved being with the other children and the nannies were fantastic. They had a big trampoline which was a lot of fun. And yes, I had a go too and I'll have you know that I can still do a decent toe-touch. I could barely walk afterwards but it was worth it to see the look on Toby's face. 'Mommy, you're just like Sportacus!'

The food was amazing. My diet not only flew out the window, it whipped out at about Mach 4. I'm sure I heard the sonic boom when I took my first bite of seared scallops and saffron risotto. And the desserts! They did a pain perdu with creme anglaise and blueberry sauce for which I would've sold both of the children. No, not really. Well. Maybe one of them.

The attention to detail was really charming. There were bathrobes for me and J and a tiny one for Tobes. When they cleaned the room everyday they refilled the cookie jar in the room with different kinds of homemade cookies. As much as possible all of the food was organically grown and locally produced. Little things, like the butter, was just gorgeous. I don't usually eat bread and butter but theirs was so good that I had it at every meal. They made their own jam and marmalade too. It was an incredible place. We're already talking about when we can go back.

Pompeii - the day after

Having the bathroom done this week and, as always, it's turned up a few surprises. When the mosaic tiles were being removed the whole wall started coming away. The Victorian method of using wooden battens just didn't stand the test of time so it all had to come down and be redone. All of this work has meant that the flat is covered in a thick layer of white dust. Thankfully, Karen came yesterday and removed the top layer or two but I think we'll be finding white dust in odd places until the day we move.

And that's before they've even started on the kitchen. We're off to Woolley Grange for a few days next week and while we're away they're going to start removing the old kitchen tiles and the old ceramic floor. Apparently that's an even messier job. Oh joy. I know I'll love the end result but it's a painful process.

Still loving London. Tobes had school this morning so Rosie and went into the village for coffee. Our favourite place is a little Costa Coffee with a basement and tiny courtyard you can sit in during the warmer months. When we got there we saw a double stroller parked upstairs with a sleeping little boy in one side of it. He slept peacefully for about twenty minutes, woke up and looked around then sat quite happily until his mother came upstairs to get him. She had been downstairs having coffee with friends. Now, this is not something that I would feel comfortable doing but it is nice to know that people feel safe doing such a thing.

While sipping my cappucino I listened to two men intelligently discussing the mess caused by those cartoons of Mohammed and to two older ladies ordering coffee. The ladies were in their 80s at least and one of them had obviously been to Costa before because she was explaining the difference between a macchiato and a ristretto while her friend kept saying 'I just want a milky coffee!'.

We picked Tobes up from school and stopped off at the butcher's on the walk home. I love this butcher. I was a vegetarian for years but now that I'm eating meat I eat it unflinchingly. Why should I eat a steak but not a cow's tongue? If I'm going to eat an animal I might as well eat the whole thing. This butcher has big pieces of meat hanging in the shop, many still identifiable. Today it was pigs, their insides cleaned out except for the kidneys. Why were the kidneys left inside? I have no idea but it was like some kind of modern work of art to see them all hanging from the ceiling. The shop is amazing at Christmas with turkeys, heads and feathers intact, hanging from every available surface. And when it's pheasant season it's even more striking. Amazing place.