h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Deb

I did quite like the film, paulh. But it was odd. I like my magic realism either more realistic or more obviously satire. This looked like an episode of some 70s TV show. That may have been the aim, of course.

Day 22

I am slowly starting to grasp how you do children's birthday parties.

This is the problem with having kids, or perhaps the problem with just having one or two kids. You work out how to deal with some child related issue, and then they grow out of it.

Basically, the best thing to do is hire a big hall, lock 20 to 30 children inside it, play some games which require them to run around for an hour (it's really good if you get someone else to do this), feed them pizza, tango and cake, let them run around a bit more and shove them out the door with a party bag two hours later.

Everything else is just window dressing.

Random cute image of the day, Herself with her hands over her ears blasting away on her noise making party favour.

Throwing a pinata into the mix works well, too (poor Notepad, having a birthday in the middle of the rainy season, and no access to an indoor space that a pinata would work in)

I'm assuming that one would need to speak at least a little Spanish at a Pinata party....

I know food words (Mexican version of Spanish) and can count to 10 (and maybe half a dozen other words) does that count?

The best party my brother's had for any of his three kids has been just like that, Sol. They hired a church hall, they plated up the food and put out some long tables down one end, and off they went. The hall had a kitchen off with a serving hatch and us family volunteers just stood around there dispensing squash as it was requested and making tea for any parents who'd decided to hang around. They hired an entertainer who did balloon animals, some clowning around, organised party games and did a bit of a disco. It was fab, the kids had a blast and went home tired and overexcited .

Deb

I shudder at the mere thought of 20 six year old boys trying to thwack a pinyata. I really do. It was pretty alarming when they all thundered towards me chasing the foodball.

Day 23

Today Lewis Hamilton (he's from S______ you know) won the formula 1 championship. Which was surprising as usually when I support someone it is the kiss of death for all their hopes.

Not that I automatically support Hamilton (who comes from S__________ did I say), but this year I rather thought he was due.

It occurred to me that I have been watching F1 for too long. I am starting to develop the sort of fondness for the gang you feel for the cousins you see every third Christmas and weddings and funerals.

Young cousins, of course. I feel quite auntily towards the boys. Or at least I did until they started putting 12 year olds in the cars.

Anyway, it occurred to me, as I worried about whether young Kvyat (he's from Russia. No, I don't know how to pronounce his name either. It was with clear relief that David Coultard found out he likes to be called Danny. Probably because he was petrified I would start a pronunciation campaign that saw me mentioned by the then lead commentator, Martin Brundle, not once but twiceon the TV (I was 'someone having a moan on Twitter'. So proud, so very very proud) similar to the one I did for peTROV) was wearing enough vests, eating his greens and doing his homework, that being a celebrity must be a profoundly odd experience. Because there we are, knowing a fair number of random facts about them (Niko Rosburg can ride a unicycle. He speaks German, English Italian and French. He nearly ended up studying aerodynamics and Imperial College. He is scared of heights. He looks just like Leonardo Di , only with better hair. Damn, is it too late to switch allegiances?) and feeling like we are all on first name Facebook friend terms with them, and there they are not knowing who the hell we are from Adam whenever they meet someone new.

Anyway. Must go and like Hamilton's (from S____________ originally) victory tweet. Good old Lewis. Wouldn't want him to feel slighted.

[Amy P]

Deb

Day 24

It was a bit people of Walmart in the corner shop this evening.

I'll admit to presenting a rather desperate appearance myself as I bought a loaf of sliced white processed bread in a ratty old maternity top with holes in the elbows, sweatpants and a red and sweaty face and my hair scrunched up raggedly from zumba.

But at least I wasn't propped up on the counter in a leopard skin onsie (with cute little leopard hoodie complete with ears) steadily working my way though a pile of scratchcards.

Maybe it was a real leopard trying to raise money for WWF?

[Amy P]

Do they even have Wal-Mart in Russia?

I always get mixed up between these exercise classes. Is Zumba the one where you have to break wind in a swimming pool?

Deb

Zumba is the one where you do aerobic exercise loosely based on Cossack dancing and Bollywood style moves to the sort of music where one of the lines is 'I've got a gun in my pants. BOOM'.

I suspect our instructor of a sense of humour.

There is no Walmart in Russia, but there is Auchan, a Dutch hypermarket chain. However, people of Walmart would not happen in Russia because no Russian woman would ever nip to the corner shop in anything less than an immaculate outfit and full war paint.

Day 25

My students were cautiously optimistic about Thursday after I fed the bread and butter pudding. Bwahahahahahahmwahahahaha.

Have now abandoned the idea of watching a bit of I'm a Celebrity Bushtucker Trials, mainly because they always seem to be eating testicles and I blanche at the thought of conveying the meaning of the word testicles to 19 20-somethings and the line manager I want to write a reference.

Instead I have found this: https://www.youtube.com/user/BrennanEatsIt/videos

I am torn between the one about marmite and the one about steak and kidney pie.

[Amy P]

Thursday, your class is on Thursday

You might mention that on just the other side of the Atlantic the US Americans are all celebrating Thanksgiving. We have all been bringing home food, such as turkeys, potatoes and other vegetables. Dinner rolls, pickles, olives and cranberries in various forms.

We will cook all morning, stuff ourselves and sit around watching American Football, drinking and eventually fighting with each other. Grand time

F S

It does have to be said that if I had been paying more attention, I could have made more of the Thanksgiving situation. I may see if the supermarket has something to represent American food insanity. I'd make a pumpkin pie but my little disease vectors have given me their cold and I am not in the mood, especially given that I have also promised the PTA cakes (plural) for the Christmas fair cake stall this weekend.

Day 26

My son does Brazilian jujitsu. He was doing judo, which was almost too embarrassing for a half Russian. It only needed my daughter to take up tennis and then we would be a walking cliche. But that class closed and we didn't like having to go deep into the heart of Chelsea's most upscale neighbourhood, so now we are just over the road doing a even more bastardized version of whatever the martial art was to start with.

And all because Himself had a passion for the Power Rangers last year.

Anyway. This jujitsu class amuses me because an awful lot of the accompanying parents appear to be jujitsu practicing Papas, by which I mean there are a lot of short, lean sinewy men who look *very* good in a pair of jeans cheering on their five year olds extremely knowledgeably.

Which I can live with.

Sadly, Himself is terrible at both judo and jujitsu, or at least this is what I understand from the fact that he is still a white belt after a good year of practise. He;s also bad at street dancing, but then neither of these things matter as he seem to enjoy it and slowly, very slowly, these two disciplines, with their focus on physical coordination, do seem to be having an effect on his lack of co-ordination.

He did his own shirt buttons up after PE today he tells me. If he can repeat that tomorrow morning, I will be ecstatic.

[Amy P]