A new take on the nauseating Christmas Letter

Ever received a letter like this? Do you find it heart warming and informative, or want to scream? If it's the latter, read on for an alternative version ...

Tarquin, Henrietta, Rupert & Hugo

Our family in 2013

Dear friends & family

What a year 2013 has been!  We are all happy, fine, and still smiling.

Another year, another birthday! It was my 40^th : an excuse to celebrate in a number of parts including a week in St Lucia, skiing in St Moritz, and a fizzy at home with close friends and a birthday cake on the actual day.

School remains a joy for Rupert and Hugo; Henrietta and I have enjoyed going to the boys’ parents evenings this year immensely!  Rupert is in 3W now, he is really applying himself and achieving a lot which is fantastic to watch.  Hugo has the right attitude and always wants to try different experiences; at the age of 5 he is already progressing well in each of his core subjects.  Both boys are doing well, taking advantage of what the school has to offer.  Long may progression and happiness at school continue for both of them.

An impulse buy in the summer has been a lot of fun, a small boat which we launched into our private lake for its maiden voyage.  It is about 15 foot long, has a small cuddy at the front and a 9.8hp engine on the back. 

At the beginning of the year a family aspiration was to learn to kayak.  Some months later we were the proud owners of 2 double inflatable Pointer K2s. 

So, how hectic was 2013?  Very is the answer.  Batteries were topped up in Mexico for the New Year, sand under your toes at midnight is highly recommended.  In addition to my birthday celebrations, we have been to Barcelona, Guernsey, Mexico, Lisbon, Cumbria. We are off to St Lucia on 27 December and cannot wait!

Work continues as it does for all of us.  Henrietta continues to work on the Canestan brand, looking at new products and travels all over the world.

We have been having a lot of fun with old black and white photos, my dear Nan gave me her collection recently. It is amazing what can be done to improve photos, copy, enlarge and even colour provided you have the knowledge.

Stay safe, merry Christmas and best wishes for the new year.

Lots of love

Tarquin, (Henrietta, Rupert & Hugo) xxx

Our version ...

Dear Random Email Contacts

What a year 2013 has been!  We are all happy, fine, and still smiling, thanks to our new GP who prescribes valium much more liberally than the last one!

Another year … another 6 birthdays each … since we found out that the Social send you a cheque on every birthday … at some point they may realise that at the age of 42 I can’t really have had 36 birthdays in the last 3 years, but got to screw the system somehow to replace the lost benefits …

School remains a rarity for both Aran and Ben … Aran’s doing so well, only 12 and got two girls pregnant … if we can persuade the girlfriends to live with us that will boost our benefits even further.  Ben is delighted with the increase in housing association tenants at the back of our house, as he can now do his drug  round in half the time, profits have climbed to around £500 a week … result … Long may progression and achievement at school continue for both of them.  We are especially proud of Aran  as he now has letters after his name … AS BO – ah, bless, not entirely sure what the ‘BO’ stands for but he assures us he has worked hard to get them.  Aran has a right attitude and frankly, if he doesn’t buck up his ideas and start earning as much as his younger brother he’ll be out on his ear by the end of next year.  Money doesn’t grow on trees, you have to go to the Social for that.  Both Aran and Ben are doing well, taking advantage of what the school has to offer, most of which will shortly  appear on ebay.  We were particularly impressed with how Ben managed to half-inch a smartboard out of school without being noticed, opening bid price of £50 if anyone’s interested (no power supply included) …

An impulse buy in the summer has been a lot of fun as we saw another pet come into the family  … this one seems to have jumped straight to the top of Clare’s favourites list as it has been housed in her top bedside cabinet drawer and even glows in the dark.  ‘Bright Eyes’ as we call it, is already on its fourth set of batteries as Mark has been away a lot (at HM’s pleasure).

At the beginning of the year a family aspiration was to have matching tattoos … the joy was only slightly diminished by Mark’s poor spelling which resulted in ‘Love’ on our right hands and ‘Hake’ on our left … how we laughed when we had to finish off Aran’s and Ben’s ourselves as the tattooist refused.

So, how hectic was 2013?  Pay as you go phones were topped up in Tesco for the New Year as our disastrous credit rating forced the cancellation of our phone contracts. Viagra under your tongue at midnight is highly recommended … We celebrated the opening of a our second Lidl store in town, and are proud to say we now have a Poundland, Savers and Costcutter on the high street, reducing our reliance on Mark’s shoplifting quite so much.  We are off to Homebase on 27 December: can’t afford to miss the first day of the Sales!

Work continues, as it does for all of us, except Mark, who lost 2 jobs this year and is currently on the dole.

We have been having a lot of fun with old black and white photos, so nice of Warwickshire Police to clear out their archives and return our library of mug shots to us.

See you all again next year!

Clare, Mark, Aran & Ben Shuttlewood / Swift  Xx

Feast & Famine in Developed Countries

It occurred to me this week, while re-reading my PCOS book before my scan next week that, although it is true that most of the developed world now does live in a continual state of feast from a nutritional point of view, we have a new state of feast / famine to face up to in the 21st century: financial feast / famine. With no more jobs for life, the only certainty being that the technology of today will not be the technology of our standard working lives in 10, let alone, 25 years' time (when we will be retiring), and the ever-present threat of redundancy (no matter how many hours you put in or qualifications you gain), we middle aged, middle class, middle income -ers have to prepare ourselves for periods of financial 'feast' and 'famine'.
So, what can we do about it?
Miminalist living? Yes, but, as illustrated by David Mitchell in one of his latest podcasts, that can backfire as we all end up buying cheap furniture that needs replacing every 10 years rather than the 40 year life expectancy that the furniture our parents bought could enjoy.
Avoid unncecessary financial risk? Yes, but we still have to feed and clothe our children, fund the fuel to run them around (in our attempts to give them the confidence and broad upbringing to try to ensure that they have a wide enough skills base to weather out the employment markets of the future), and keep up to date with latest technologies.
Save during times of feast to fund the times of famine? Yes, but with current interest rates ...?
For me, and the other 1 in 10 women with PCOS, I'm just hoping that the basics for evolution may apply here. As you may know, PCOS is a genetic-based disorder associated with infertility. How can such a thing exist? How would women with PCOS ever have managed to pass on their genes to the next generation if they had trouble conceiving? It is all to do with our ability to put on weight and our raised testosterone levels. So, if I am lucky enough to 'manipulate' a condition that evolved from a need to adjust to nutritional feast and famine, I reckon that I, and the other x million women successfully managing their PCOS symptoms, should have a pretty good chance of dealing with the new feast / famine phenomenon.

Nuts and chocolate ???

Anyone who knows me well knows that I am a traditionalist when it comes to nuts and cocoa. Nuts are eaten before a meal as an appetiser, and chocolate is eaten after a meal as a guilty surrender to temptation. Phobia may be too strong a word, but I am deeply suspicious of anyone who has a penchant for eating the two together. I can't pinpoint the source of my mistrust, but I do remember eating a mixed bag of chocolate covered peanuts and raisins and feeling quite repulsed when I accidently popped a peanut rather than a raisin into my mouth.

Chocolate-covered nuts are, to borrow a phrase from an ex-boss who was describing high GI carbs when on a strict Atkins diet, "the devil's food".

It is therefore not an exaggeration to say that my relationship with my partner teetered pretty close to the edge last week when, after being sent out to buy an emergency pint of milk at 10pm, he can back with a look of intense pleasure that couldn't possibly have come from a 15 minute walk to Tesco and back in the pouring rain. He excitedly told me to close my eyes and open my hands, which I dutifully did. On opening my eyes I stared blankly at 2 small orange packets in my hand. "They're selling Reese's Pieces in Tesco!" he exclaimed, opening one packet and pouring them down his throat. When I had established what they were - small pats of peanut butter enclosed in a hard chocolate shell, I calmly opened the bin and dropped the other packet in. He was also instructed to clean his teeth at least 3 times before bed to remove all trace of the foul combination of tastes.

Unbelievably, 30+ years of this food hatred started to waver about 10 minutes ago. I have just had the most exquisite chocolate-covered almond with my coffee (cafes richard, http://www.richard.fr/) in a Parisien cafe - a wonderful explosion of a light dusting of dark cocoa over a crispy unsalted nut. This may just have helped me to put my first foot on the journey of acceptance of nuts and cocoa, but I will tread carefully and with a certain amount of trepidation ...

Is it normal for a 43 year old woman to nibble her partner's ear in public?

I have just spent a long weekend with a group of friends, including a couple who have spent the entire time groping/stroking/touching each other, which raises an interesting point: when and where is this type of behaviour acceptable?
a. Age - under 21 is OK, over 21 is not, and over 40 is a punishable offense?
b. Setting - dense urban jungle fine, remote rural wilderness fine, anywhere else not fine?
c. Company - you 2 alone fine, with family depends (you are stuck with them for the rest of your life, remember), with another couple in the same phase ok as you are unlikely to offend, with a mixed group of friends in a confined space, no?
d. Time of day - along with towed caravans on a motorway, could this activity be banned in daylight hours?
e. Proximity to others - a 'no no' if they are close enough to hear the slurping noises, could they be pursuaded to erect portable screens if the urge gets too strong?

I have been so traumatised that I am thinking of starting up a support group for others in a similar predicament. We could carry banners and wear T shirts with the old public swimming pool symbols for 'no heavy petting' on them. We could enlist Jeremy Clarkson and Janet Street Porter to our cause and maybe even persuade Lily Allen to write some strongly worded lyrics in her next album?

Observation: The 'Education, Education, Education' mantra now has to be 'Efficiency, Efficiency, Efficiency'

I feel compelled to contrast two fruitful experiences I had this week when trying to buy things, as the one was so good and the other was so bad.

A busy lunchtime last Friday I walked into the Apple store in the Bullring to buy my son's birthday present. I walked straight to the tills at the back of the store, told a friendly sales assistant what I wanted; he took the item out of a drawer next to him, already packaged, took my payment by credit card, checked my email address was correct, and told me my receipt and warranty had been sent to my inbox. The whole process took a few minutes and I was genuinely happy to hand over my money.

For the last 2 weeks I have been trying to change the billing address and name on my broadband account with an anonymous (yet colourfully named) provider. I estimate I have spent around 3 - 4 hours on the phone or on hold in that time, and on one occasion, spoke to 3 different teams, only to be asked to call the original team back and then be cut off! The jewel in the crown of this experience was when they refused to recognise my date of birth, repeating 1971 as if I was to blame for being born in that year! I am now determined to change my provider to avoid ever having to to through that again.

There is no excuse - we consumers demand value and efficiency, or we will go elsewhere!

In fact, the only time and place that over-efficiency causes problems is a the self-serve checkout at Tesco ... try to be too efficient at getting your items into the bag and the machine barks "unexpected item in the bagging area", causing you to go back and repeat the swipe again with everyone else now watching you!

PS I have just this minute received a call from the customer services team at my broadband provider saying they have just picked up the message I left on their answer phone 3 DAYS AGO and are ringing me back to help ... is it me?!

Some light relief: Reponse to Peter Ormerod's feature in Leamington Courier (9th Jan) "On Sunday or Monday? When does the week really begin?"

I read with interest, and amusement, then with increasing amazement Peter Ormerod's feature on 9th January: "On Sunday or Monday? When does the week really begin?" I do not have a strong opinion whether the week begins on a Sunday or a Monday (or on any other day, for that matter). What I find astonishing is his description of a Sunday: "Sundays serve as a long and relaxing lie-in before work." After extensive debate over this with 4 friends over a very good curry in Kineton on Friday night, I feel compelled to give a more balanced representation of a typical Sunday, based on an average family of 4 with 2 working parents and 2 school aged children, leading our lives as New Labour and The Media would encourage us to do so:

1. Monday to Friday is spent working a 40 - 60 hour week in a desperate attempt to avoid redundancy, remembering to send children into school each day with the right combination of swimming, football and dance kit, making nutritionally balanced Jamie Oliver-standard packed lunches every night, helping with homework, trips to the doctor/dentist/optician/hairdresser, doing the bare minimum of washing and ironing to keep everyone in uniform for the week and maybe, if you're very lucky, a drink with friends or a trip to the gym.

2. Saturday and Sunday are therefore the only days left for: supermarket shopping, sport, washing, drying and ironing clothes, tidying and cleaning the house, preparing home-cooked meals (Nigella or Gordon standard this time), taking children to and from parties, starting the school project, paying household bills, tackling the pile of post on the doormat, planning the summer camping holiday, sending a birthday card to Aunty Marge, cleaning school shoes, replacing broken light bulbs, building a 1,000 piece lego set and making origami paper aeroplanes with your son and playing shopkeepers with your daughter ... with maybe a sneaky 20 mins on facebook to remind yourself that you do have adult friends out there. Maybe it's me.

Maybe we should be able to fit all of 2. above into one day, but I don't think I'm alone in suggesting that would be a bit like trying to stuff an octopus into a string bag. I would love to canvass opinion (as we are not allowed to use the word 'vote' any more) as to whether Sunday is a "long relaxing lie in" or in fact an inevitable day of rushing around to get the chores done before the whole cycle starts again on a Monday morning?

Let me know what you think!