In which Babymomma actually finishes a whole book!

A feat so incredible it deserves another exclamation mark! Took me 4 weeks, I read every single word, and what an amazingly good read it was too!

Fabulous Present Time

Just as post-holiday blues were beginning to settle in got a surprise delivery from Amazon addressed to Jasmine & Felix. The brain immediately starts ticking into overtime - who's it from? what's the occasion? what (book) is it? - and am totally perplexed as there are no birthdays due and none of the rellies really use the internet for shopping, so I rip it open and the Mary Dude has only gone and sent one OF THE BEST BOOKS EVER. Immediately I am transported back to my childhood, snuggling up in my mum's bed poring over Richard Scarry pictures. I am resolved to put it on the highest bookshelf so I can and keep it for me, me, me... (no, not really).

The thing is, I can't for the life of me work out why she is sending us the present. Apparently it's for a nice day out at Fowey, but she was the one who drove herself and the delicious Baby Kate (aka Dudetta, aka Kate-o-Rama, aka Kate-o-Matic) all the way out to Fowey to meet us and we end up getting the present?

Friends, sigh. They're Bloody Wonderful.

On a book roll

I've just finished
The Good Husband of Zebra Drive.
Call me sentimental but I simply love the No. 1 Ladies Detective Series - reading the books is like drinking soup: heartwarming, simple, comforting.

Hurrah! I've finished a book

I've finally finished a book! Feels like a real achievement. Not only that, but it's also an insightful and thought-provoking book, (The Islamist by Ed Husain - see reviews here and here) as opposed to a piece of airport pap that I often succumb to. So, by proxy, that makes me a More Interesting Person.

Crap telly

I've broken my book diet and found myself compulsively watching Runs House and reruns of My Super Sweet 16 on MTV - the TV equivalent of Pot Noodle.

The Tiger Who Came to Tea

Jambeans favourite book is currently The Tiger Who Came to Tea.

On the surface, it's about a tiger who invites himself round to tea and eats and drinks everything in the house. But it's really an illustration of women's subjugation to men in the 1960s .

The tiger is charming and attractive and brazenly exploits Sophie and her mummy's generosity by eating them out of house and home. Then when he buggers off, Sophie and her mummy, being mere girls, are totally at a loss to know what to do about the damage to their basic requirements for security and sustenance - ie the mess and lack of food. Mummy's cannot bathe Sophie or feed Daddy because there is no water or food in the house. So really the Tiger has denied her the ability to fulfil the primary role she has in life - that of mother and provider - and therefore she has lost her identity. It is also her fault since she allowed and even encouraged the Tiger to scoff all the cakes and drink all the water in the taps (but obviously any sense of criticism I apply is notably absent in the story). Sophie is also pretty useless - she has totally fallen in love with the Tiger and cuddles him adoringly whilst he ransacks the house.

But then Daddy arrives home, Ta-Daaa, and rescues the situation by, oh my gosh he's so brilliant, suggesting they go to a cafe for dinner. They eat sausage. They are warm. They are fed. Everyone is happy. Daddy has restored Mummy's ability to feed and provide for her brood. Thanks to him, she is self-fulfilled. He is a Good Man. You get my drift...

But despite the fact that it occasionally wants to make me vomit, I absolutely LOVE this story.

Operation Crossword

I'm conscious that I've become a very tedious person recently - most of my "hobbies", if you can call them that, took me out of the house - to the cinema and swimming pool and restaurants and ski runs and so on. But indoors I've become nothing short of a zoned-out biscuit-eating TV-watching bub-feeding couch potato. So I am now making a concerted effort to become more interesting by reading books (I'm achieving about 4 paragraphs a day) listening to music and reminding myself how to do the Torygraph Crossword (my only concession to right wing newspapery.) Like all good diets I give myself, ooh, about 5 days, before I give up...