Seek medical attention…

Posted by dulwichmum on Sat 19 April 2008

James is in Washington (again) and I am bored, bored, bored. Tonight I have resorted to reading (the au pair) Magda’s old copies of Now magazine. Vogue is cover to cover florals – and I am finding it all quite depressing (have you noticed the weather?).

Is anyone else alarmed by Dr Hilary Jones and his problem page? He is starting to sound just like a member of the Roman Catholic clergy…

Dr Hilary’s column has an enormous eye-catching photo of Victoria Beckham with the headline “Posh’s trousers could give you thrush!” Sweet Dr Hilary, are times that difficult? The mid fifty year old celebrity GP says that “tough fabric can irritate just where you don’t want it to and allow thrush to flourish in the warm, moist environment,” he then goes into far too much detail for those of us who can actually read…

Really darling?

Let’s move on…

I think that it may be time for you yourself to seek treatment. You don’t sound too healthy to me.

But then what would I know?

Has anyone noticed where I put the cork screw?

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 Praise the Lord!

Posted by dulwichmum on Tue 15 April 2008

I awoke the other morning to find my bedroom flooded with light. Like the Ice Queen I surveyed the scene from my bedroom window, smiling to myself as the profusion of enormous fluffy snowflakes that wafted past and settled into little drifts on the terrace steps and against the perfect Farrow and Ball painted bird table below. I realised that the sweet Robin would probably be forced to endure hunger in this beautiful scene. There are indeed those who suffer great hardship because of the snow…

I was suddenly aware that I was in the presence of God!

Overcome with emotion, struck dumb in awe at the power of the Lord, tears ran down my perfect cheeks and I felt my heart leap in my bosom with joy at the realisation that I live in glorious Dulwich!

Some are certainly less fortunate than I…(have you ever been to Lambeth? OHMYGOD!!!)

Aware that my poppets would imminently demand a trip into the garden to make a snow man, I dashed downstairs, summoned the au pair and instructed her to don her thermals in order to escort my progeny outside for some fun and games (high jinks in the snow would play havoc with my hair).

I love to catch up on my beauty sleep on a Sunday morning (sigh), I really could sleep like a bear in hibernation.

Wake me up when the meek inherit the earth.

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