29 Jan 2012

Hestia......reviews BBC1's Birdsong


Final tally:  8 absolutely sodden paper tissues and a face that looks like it has been stung by a jar of bees.

Wonderful.

Now. Go and read the book.  Buy tissues.  LOTS of them.

25 Jan 2012

Hestia and Sonshine and Robert Burns

And so it came to pass that P7 decided to celebrate Robert Burns' birthday with a Burns Supper in the afternoon. According to Sonshine, it is taking place at Mount Stuart.  Previous years have been at The Glenburn Hotel.

When you're 11, they probably look like the same building to be honest.

Sonshine has a part to play - he and a friend are reading out some autobiographical deets of the Bard and we have practised and practised, marking spaces where a pause will add meaning, scribbling down pronunciations of words like 'Souter' (sooter) and 'Kirkoswald' (erm, Kirk Oswald).

20 Jan 2012

Hestia and The Differences Between Us - Part 2

Here's a little quiz for you.  Nothing too strenuous:  Can you tell which two shelves belong to Tartarus and which two shelves belong to me?  I'll rephrase that to give you a clue:  Which two shelves belong to the anally-tidy man of the house and which two belong to me?




It's a tricky one.....

I must also put my hand on my heart and tell you that I have been interfering with that bottom shelf of Tartarus's since he went back to sea - technically it's Sonshine's shelf too. Hence the fairly untidy nature of it with cough bottles,  manicure sets and Oprex :-)

Ignore the Anusol on my shelf.  It's not mine.

Neither is the facial hair-bleaching kit.

Did you see The Differences Between us, part the first?  See - and marvel - here.

Sometimes I think he goes to Mexico just to get away from the untidiness......

What about you? Got any places in your home that clearly show the differences between you and your other half?

Have a lovely weekend!

17 Jan 2012

Hestia's Drawer of Shame

So, my good friend Ania bought me a book on Glamorous Knits for my Christmas.  You've got to love my friend's faith in me - she actually expects me to knit something from the book.  She actually CHALLENGED me to knit something from it.

'I'm a bit shit at knitting.' I confessed on facebook.

'Do you want me to organise a knit-along with my daughter, to keep you company?' came back the reply.

Reader, her daughter is 9 years old.  Not even *I* can take being bitch-slapped by a 9-year old at knitting.

'Find me some wool.' I asked - utterly clueless.  One doesn't call it wool any more, it is YARN.

Viv, another crafting genius with more faith in me than is good for her, found a lovely wool yarn and with some clever recalculations from Ania regarding how many balls I would need, I ordered - right then and there - before I could change my mind.

The wool yarn arrived and it was gorgeous! I couldn't WAIT to get cracking - so off I trundled upstairs to find knitting needles in the correct size.  It's funny that, isn't it?  You don't knit, but you are fairly sure that somewhere in your home you WILL find the right-sized needles for your project.....

Anyway reader, I came across a TON OF SHAME.  And because I am prepared to share EVERYTHING with you (other than the spartan details of my cob-web filled sex-life) here is My Drawer Of Shame......

10 Jan 2012

Hestia and Chanel...and Mme Lenormand

Forty one years ago today, the couturier and perfumier Coco Chanel died at the age of 88.

I've just finished reading Justine Picardie's biography of Chanel and found it a totally absorbing read.  Well-studded with photographs and reading fluidly, almost like a novel, Picardie's investigation into Chanel and her tangled background has been extensive - exploring everything from the fishing records from the Duke of Westminster's Scottish estate to the diary entries for Cecil Beaton.

9 Jan 2012

Hestia's 2012 - so far a bit shit

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!  And welcome to Hurricane Bawbag II!!!

So here's how it's been so far, in numbers:

72 - hours without power.  We were not so badly off because we have a gas hob and a gas fire, but many people who were all electric had nothing hot to eat or drink during that time unless kind neighbours took pity on them.  Not everyone has kind neighbours though.

Explore the ruined citadel of m'blog: