This week at Alula’s school they’ve been focussing on love. Who said anything about her being at a hippy dippy school? I don’t care what GCSE results she gets if this is what she learns though. Firstly she came home on Monday and said to me: ‘ Mummy why doesn’t granny like you?’ And I …
Alula: Play with me mummy Me: Only if I don’t have to play barbies. Alula: But I want to play barbies Me: Well I don’t like Barbie Alula: Why not? Me: Because Barbie represents an image of womanhood and beauty that I find offensive. Alula: No she doesn’t. Don’t be silly mummy. Let’s play Barbie. …
Mummy, who was that woman who was just in our room? She was the cleaner darling. I love her. Sorry? I love her. Er, why do you love the cleaner? (I mean I know I love my Kadek but that’s only because she cleans so I don’t have to. Alula doesn’t clean ergo…I’m confused about …
‘So for xmas we have two options. If the weather is nice we can go to the beach. And if it’s not we can stay in Ubud and do what xmas is about. Namely eating.’ ‘Actually Christmas is about Jesus,’ John reminds me. I raise an eyebrow at the heathen grinning at me across the …
I keep starting a lot of my posts with ‘So I was getting a massage and…’ But um, I was getting a massage this morning and Alula wandered in. ‘Hello mummy,’ she said. ‘mgrhrmrmrm,’ I answered. ‘Is it ok if I sit on the bed?’ she asked, clambering on the bed. ‘Yes, ok but you …
The reason for my blogging silence this week has been down to the fact my fingers have been otherwise occupied with pulling dead insects out of my daughter’s hair. At times the three of us have resembled a small troupe of gorillas picking fleas out of each other’s fur. Well John got off. He’s the …
Let’s get one thing clear. I’m not American. But I kind of prefer the whole giving thanks idea to the whole big fat man dressed in red, family horror, queen’s speech, overcooked turkey and ooh look more socks day of hell idea. Let’s get another thing clear. I hate Christmas. Always have. I like living …
I’m a failure. This according to Nyoman and Made the two women who own the shop over the road. I am a failure because I only have a daughter. ‘You have more children soon yes?’ they ask. ‘Err no. Not planning on it,’ I say. They stare at me with a mixture of pity and …
Alula and I drive past a fifty foot high horse and Alula asks: What’s the horse for? – The King died. A real King? – Yes. He died and they’re having a cremation. What’s a cremation? – It’s something they do when people die. So will they take him to the not dead doctors and …
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