Properly Gorgeous

When Helen emailed to tell me of my great good fortune last week, she assured me that my new CASHMERE SCARF was “properly gorgeous”.  It arrived, and of course she wasn’t lying – it is.  So gorgeous, in fact, that it was immediately swiped out of my hands and used as a blankie:

(Apparently a fat baby is a happy baby.  Which might explain the smiles.)

I’ve swiped it back, and am about to pack it away – we’re off to the US of A in the morning for a few weeks, and I’m knee deep in packing hell.  Before I jet off (doesn’t that make it sound glamorous?  I suspect that the only thing worse than being me tomorrow is being the person who’ll be sitting in front of me and my 900 off-spring)  there’s the small matter of Helen’s book.  The (sulky) Boy (whose current favourite topic of conversation is the old favourite, Why Do You Boss Me Around So Much?) has decreed that the winner is... SHADYMAMA!

Congrats Shady. Come forward and see if you can wrangle your prize from Lady Lard.

  

(Alternatively, email me at relentlesslaundry@gmail.com and we’ll sort out the logistics).

I wish I could stay and chat some more.  I could tell you all about how to make your house smell like an ashtray simply by incinerating popcorn;  or how to waste not one, but two mornings watching your children fail to so much as open their respective mouths at their respective class concerts. I could even delight you with  tales of my week as a whole-food eating vegan, and how I convinced myself that, notwithstanding the small matter of snipped fallopian tubes, I was pregnant again (such is the power of quinoa, three times a day).  But it must all wait. The Land of the Free is calling.  As well as the suitcases of the shackled. 

Now I just need to find that new scarf...