V is for Vacation

V…. is for vacation. Or perhaps H … is for holiday because although we are off work, school, ballet, karate etc. we have not actually travelled anywhere and are tucked up quietly in the Middle. I think the north Americans talk about “vacations” but in my mind that involves a trip away and that we are not. Holidays hey, such bliss and the best bit about it all is that we can have the great morning “lie-in”, which for G. and I is a rediscovered pleasure from some long, long distant past, in a pre-J. age, when we were young and beautiful. Our lie-ins typically mean an 8 a.m. wake up call with either R. or L. crawling into our bed as opposed to the usual 6.30 a.m. start to the day. Although we are awake, however, this does not mean we get up straight away. G., who is a blessed hero, goes and makes a cup of tea picks up the paper and a packet of biscuits and we lie in bed until we feel like it. Tea or coffee in bed is an indolent, extravagance that I introduced G. too since this is not a familiar habit with the locals but there is nothing better then waking up with a warm cuppa and the papers. At some point the children wander off to go and watch some telly or play with their play mobile. There is no nagging to get shoes on. No talk of “hurry-up” or “get a move on” or “J. get down here we should have left ten minutes ago”.
J. and K. have been allowed, for the first time really, to stay up with G. and I to watch a DVD or some BBC good-for-the-family film. They love it and make themselves a nest of blankets and cushions on the settees leaving little room for either G or I.
Yesterday, however, we managed to get all little VC-G’s to bed early since tonight is going to be a late night – what with it being New Year’s eve and all. So, by nine o’clock G and I had the telly to ourselves and we put on a cd that Beccy gave G. for Christmas called “Sideways”. A low budget comedy that made us giggle and laugh and reach for the wine. Later we decided to drink a glass of whiskey since Steven bought G a fine 18 year old single malt for Christmas. Fantastic. It went down really well and we ended up watching BBC Radio 2 Music Live – or something like that with James Blunt. Beccy has started a bit of a James Blunt craze with me and I got the James Blunt “All Lost Souls” album from Erwan and have been listening to it non-stop. Its great and the guy, as Beccy points out, is a helluva sexy fella. Truth be told that when “You’re beautiful” first came out a couple of years ago and when it was played non-stop on the radio I couldn’t stand the song. I was under the impression that the artist behind the voice was some kind of a hermaphrodite diva from the Bronx or some Gwen Stefani wannabe. Then when out in Sauveterre one Christmas with Beccy and the family I saw the video for the first time in the local bar and said to Beccy:“Is that the guy who sings “You’re Beautiful”?”
Couldn’t believe that the artiste was such a good looking guy. Anyway, now of course I think he’s a fabulous artists. So talented. Non?
As G. and I were sitting there sipping our single malt at 1.30 a.m. I said to G.
“Is it just me or do you think that the pop scene is improving?”
“No.” G. replied. “We’ve just been in out of it for too long what with having kids and all.”
“Yes, you’re probably right.” I answered. “Its just that for such a long time I got the impression that the charts was full of nothing but soul, hip hop, house and divas.”
“You know what G.” I finally said. “Don’t you just feel like 19 again sitting up here until 2 a.m in the morning watching some kind of Jules Holland show and not worrying about having to be up early. This is great and what life really should be like all the time.”
Anyway I must go now since we have the Hymers coming to celebrate New Year’s Eve with us and there is much to do. G. has taken all four kids to take Belle for a walk and I have already wasted a lot of time just enjoying the quiet peace of the house with no children, dog or husband in it.

An outing without make-up to the “parc/park”

I had a rare trip up to Brussels yesterday. Yippee a chance to slap on the make-up and glam. myself up a bit. The meeting was held in the EP and was followed by a Christmas lunch with the “team” in a nearby restaurant on the Place Luxembourg. It was a day when I had to make an effort, albeit a slight one, with my appearance.Yet, rather like poor ‘ol Ms Hubbard, poor Ms VC-G went to her make-up bag to spruce up her face but when she got there the bag was so bare that her poor face got only half of what it really needed.
Working from home has many, many advantages but it is true that days can go by without seeing anyone other than a toddler or child so what is the point of putting make-up on? For the benefit of R? Or J? Or the dog? My little make-up bag therefore languishes on a shelf in one of the bathroom cupboards and barely gets a look in. So when, yesterday morning, I plucked it out and looked inside it was sadly bereft of anything that could smarten me up for my festive lunch and meeting in Brussels.
There were lots of useless bits of long used up eye-shadows and broken lipsticks. But, hold on a minute where was my expensive Channel face powder and compact? Or my Channel lipstick for that matter? My mascara? Oh yes, I remember, I’ve been meaning to buy some since my only sample disappeared over the summer holidays. So, all I had left was: some Nivea foundation (lid missing) a bit of eye shadow (bought for Rebecca’s wedding five years ago) and a purplish looking lipstick that I was given as a present a couple of years ago and that I never wear since it makes me look as though I have a heart disease.
This was really very sad since my complexion, what with eating too many Christmas biscuits and it being freezing outside, is not looking its most radiant.
L., who was standing next to me when I was bemoaning my empty bag in the bathroom yesterday, said:
“I didn’t take your lipstick Mummy. It wasn’t me.”
“Well, I’m not saying it is you L. but I just don’t know where all this stuff disappears to.”
“Errr” L. responded “I’m not saying that it is R. who took it … but … he could have taken your lipstick one evening and smeared it all over his body when you were downstairs watching TV since he does like to rummage through the bathroom once you have gone.”
Hmmm….could be but I don’t remember having to clean a lipstick encrusted R up recently. Anyway in the new year I shall go shopping and stock up. I don’t want to give the impression that I am lazy about my personal appearance. Indeed Becky and I have founded a new movement: “Dare to wear” – but that is the subject for another time. Shopping for make-up plus a trip to the hairdressers is a treat for over the holidays. After all R. might actually appreciate seeing me looking radiant rather than haggard so perhaps it is worth my while to put a bit of make-up on everyday.

Anyway, later that morning with only a bit of Nivea foundation on, some eye shadow and a very light touch of purple lipstick, I took the metro to the EP. Believe it or not there is no direct metro link to the vast sprawling building that houses the MEPs. Should have just walked but it was such a cold, cold day yesterday I decided not to brave the frosty air and traverse the Royal Park. Instead I took the line towards Schuman, where the stops are marked out in both French and Dutch. Thus, the stop “Arts-Loi” is also called “Kunstwet”. A soft, unreal, female voice informs travellers, in both French and Dutch, the name of the stop. As I was staring vacantly out of the dark window awaiting to alight in Maalbeek/Maelbeek, a thought occurred to me.
In this linguistically divided city where language rights are jealously guarded, defended and regulated I discovered that at the end of the day there is something that they do actually agree on. When we got to the stop “Parc/Park” the female announcer didn’t say Parc. Pause. Park. Although written twice lest there be any confusion, it was announced just once. Wow. So someone somewhere must have agreed that it really is a bit stupid to say it twice since here is a word pronounced the same in both Dutch and in French. Congratulations for those who came to this brave decision. You see these two language communities do have something, albeit trifling, in common. Perhaps “park” could form the basis of future conciliatory talks. I should get in touch with Leterme.