Oh god. X-factor is on.
The screaming contestants. The screaming audience. The celebrity-ification of dreadful people on TV for less than a few minutes. Oh, please. Spare me.
Get me to BBC 1 for some spangles and D-listers tripping about the glittery dancefloor in floating dresses...
It is the end of summer that's for sure. All the autumn-to-winter-extended shows have all just kicked off: X factor, Strictly, Spooks, Apprentice... There's simply not enough time! And that doesn't include the old fave... E.Enders.
It worries me that Mol, who has never, as far as I'm aware, seen more than 30 seconds of X-factor, did an impression of Simon Cowell two nights ago, whilst wearing nothing but a pair of pj-trousers. She pulled them up to her little boobies and said to me: Mum! (cracking up because it was actually really funny she did look VERY stupid) Mum! who am I? guess! who am I (more hilarity and cackles...)?
Mol, I said. Are you Humpty Dumpty? (Have you seen the nursery rhyme story books? He has high waisted eggy-trouser-clothing-garment things.)
Shrieks of stomach-crunching-laughter.
NOOOoooooo! Who AM I? She says, hauling the pj's up higher still, (I'm thinking, ouch? wedgy doesn't even get close to what's going on down there...)
Um, Obelix? (Another round person with flattering high waisted cover-all-body-shapes trousers...)
NOOOOOOOooooooooo. Mol on her back on the floor howling like a baby ware-wolf.
Liz meanwhile is just laughing - no idea what the hell is going on but its way too funny whatever it is so she's shrieking too. I'm thinking. Fuck get me out of here these kids have finally turned.
Anyway.
Then Mol goes: SIMON COWL!
I'm stunned into goldfish gasping.
Mol, I say. How do you know who this man is?
Oh, Miss Emma (their teacher) did an impression of him in PE with her tracksuit. It was sooooo funny.
More hysteria.
I creep out, slowly, backwards, of the bedroom, and leave them there cackling like a pair of demented witches.
Saturday, 9 October 2010
Friday, 8 October 2010
its the end... definitely
... of summer, that is. not necessarily the world. yet.
autumn is on the way.
I can tell this by being very perceptive about seasonal changes. I don't imagine that anyone else has yet noticed that the change is upon us. (that's all of us, not just for women of a certain age...)
the smell of bonfire smoke - even in london - is all around, burning leaves, hedge cuttings and lawn mowings and old apples - all dropped on the fire, huge plumes of white smoke going into the atmosphere for some smokey corruption.
the leaves, the leaves. down they come. their colours have turned... no longer are they lush green edible looking appendages on the chestnut trees. no, they're now withered brown burnt-toast-like crinkly forms rejected from their little twigs... down they fall. getting slippery on the wet pavements and hiding treacherous dog poo from unseeing pedestrians (much more poo-stepping-accidents at this time of year. must be a scientifically proven fact by now); it'll be 'leaves on the track' comedy moments fast and furious, soon.
the squirrels! they're mad. there is a squirrel in my garden who is literally squirreling. busy as a pret-a-manger-barrista on the morning shift, this squirrel has squirrelled away so many chestnuts - somewhere in the garden - that my 'lawn' (ha, such as it is) is now covered in the spiky cases that the shiny brown nuts come in. where though are the damned nuts? I'll find out next year when 400 chestnut tree saplings start poking through the ground...
other signs of the change in season which I observantly observe?
children walking round with dishevelled bits of tissue rubbing the end of their pink noses (if you're lucky, otherwise if your children are like mine, its the sleeve or the collar of a t-shirt, or your leg, or the tea-towel, or the top of the duvet cover...) as colds take on their first-round-opponents for the season.
bring on the snot.
bring on the olbas oil.
other signs of the times. well. its cooler. its darker. tea time now takes place as the sun is going down behind the local tower block on the hill, and breakfast time takes place as the sun (if its not covered by cloud) is coming up behind the local tower block on the hill opposite the other hill, to the east.
and sainsburys. oh dear.
not only did it have halloween consumer goods which are really consumer-useless-nesses on its shelves before term even started, but it now has an aisle with christmas puddings, mince pies and crackers. save us!
I'm trying to think of the nice parts of autumn and winter and spring, but all I can think of right now is thermal underwear, cold rain, and finding the time to do the bloody christmas shopping.
so. summer is way out. long gone. au-revoir, cheree! come back soon.
PS who has a house that is completely surrounded by fat oversized macdonald-eating spiders? each morning we open the front door to a barricade of web. its too disgusting.
autumn is on the way.
I can tell this by being very perceptive about seasonal changes. I don't imagine that anyone else has yet noticed that the change is upon us. (that's all of us, not just for women of a certain age...)
the smell of bonfire smoke - even in london - is all around, burning leaves, hedge cuttings and lawn mowings and old apples - all dropped on the fire, huge plumes of white smoke going into the atmosphere for some smokey corruption.
the leaves, the leaves. down they come. their colours have turned... no longer are they lush green edible looking appendages on the chestnut trees. no, they're now withered brown burnt-toast-like crinkly forms rejected from their little twigs... down they fall. getting slippery on the wet pavements and hiding treacherous dog poo from unseeing pedestrians (much more poo-stepping-accidents at this time of year. must be a scientifically proven fact by now); it'll be 'leaves on the track' comedy moments fast and furious, soon.
the squirrels! they're mad. there is a squirrel in my garden who is literally squirreling. busy as a pret-a-manger-barrista on the morning shift, this squirrel has squirrelled away so many chestnuts - somewhere in the garden - that my 'lawn' (ha, such as it is) is now covered in the spiky cases that the shiny brown nuts come in. where though are the damned nuts? I'll find out next year when 400 chestnut tree saplings start poking through the ground...
other signs of the change in season which I observantly observe?
children walking round with dishevelled bits of tissue rubbing the end of their pink noses (if you're lucky, otherwise if your children are like mine, its the sleeve or the collar of a t-shirt, or your leg, or the tea-towel, or the top of the duvet cover...) as colds take on their first-round-opponents for the season.
bring on the snot.
bring on the olbas oil.
other signs of the times. well. its cooler. its darker. tea time now takes place as the sun is going down behind the local tower block on the hill, and breakfast time takes place as the sun (if its not covered by cloud) is coming up behind the local tower block on the hill opposite the other hill, to the east.
and sainsburys. oh dear.
not only did it have halloween consumer goods which are really consumer-useless-nesses on its shelves before term even started, but it now has an aisle with christmas puddings, mince pies and crackers. save us!
I'm trying to think of the nice parts of autumn and winter and spring, but all I can think of right now is thermal underwear, cold rain, and finding the time to do the bloody christmas shopping.
so. summer is way out. long gone. au-revoir, cheree! come back soon.
PS who has a house that is completely surrounded by fat oversized macdonald-eating spiders? each morning we open the front door to a barricade of web. its too disgusting.
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