tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-113323592011-04-21T13:59:41.935-07:00Middle class, middle aged, middle income. What it's really like.Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comBlogger311100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1120213728763824612005-07-01T03:21:00.000-07:002005-07-01T03:28:48.770-07:00

A light tap on the back door signalled the arrival of Ingrid Smith. I was soon to find that Ingrid would play a very important part in my day. For Ingrid is a dog trainer. And, as Ginny and I were about to find out Ingrid is no ordinary dog trainer.Ginny tried very hard to follow Clive's decree that: 'no more money should be spent on that blasted dog.' She has made a sterling effort at DIY dog

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1120139997653753042005-06-30T06:57:00.000-07:002005-06-30T06:59:57.660-07:00

'Tell me about a time you've pricked someone's bubble.''You what . . . ''Have you ever raised your head above the parapet?'Ginny is doing her impression of a gawping goldfish. She finds her voice.'Didn't you just want to get up and leave?''Yes, but I did want the job,' said Clive. 'I don't think I've ever pricked someone's bubble have I?'He's relating the story of his latest job interview. Clive

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1118828910316957922005-06-15T02:45:00.000-07:002005-06-15T02:48:30.320-07:00

'Haven't you taken Arrow to puppy classes yet?'The cut-glass tones rang out over the village green. 'Oh, hello Diana. Err no, I'm training Arrow myself,' Ginny replied, rather defensively I thought. 'First dog is it?' Diana's strident tones rang out again. The whole of Aston Peverell would be in no doubt that Diana Perrington was out and about. To say she had a voice like a fog-horn would be

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1118659728845850632005-06-13T03:45:00.000-07:002005-06-14T03:15:43.853-07:00

'Not Chinese again.' Jake is toying with the pile of food on his plate. Fried rice, sweet and sour pork, crispy pancakes. He's not happy. Jake would rather have fish and chips, or pizza, or spaghetti bolognese. Good traditional English food. Not Chinese takeaway which, according to Jake, slimes all over the plate and all tastes the same. Chinese takeaway has been on the menu twice this week. Nick

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1117808827419410712005-06-03T07:24:00.000-07:002005-06-03T07:27:07.426-07:00

You've got to give credit where credit's due. Ginny can knit. On Monday she couldn't. Now she can. Sort of. Very slowly. By Thursday - Knit 'n' Bitch Day - Ginny had knitted a whole 10 rows of double rib. It had taken superwoman effort but she'd done it. She could go to Knit 'n' Bitch with something to prove that she can indeed knit like any other real woman. Ginny trotted off to Bonnie's house

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1117386941777790752005-05-29T10:11:00.000-07:002005-05-29T10:15:41.783-07:00

'B****y knitting.'Ginny's thrown the yarn and needles down in disgust. This gives me the opportunity to investigate. I soon have a nice pile of wool wrapped around my paws.'B****y dog. I'll never get this jumper knitted if you keep tangling the wool.'Ooooh temper, Ginny.Actually you'll never get this jumper knitted. Full stop. Knitting is not your forte, Ginny. Quit now while you're ahead. That's

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1117187822290896682005-05-27T02:51:00.000-07:002005-05-27T02:57:02.296-07:00

Ginny went shopping today for a pair of knitting needles and some wool. She hasn't knitted a stitch since primary school when all the girls knitted a tea cosy for their mothers while all the boys learnt to whittle a spoon out of a piece of wood. Clive was quite surprised to learn that Ginny could knit.'I can do plain and I can do purl if I concentrate very hard,' says Ginny sniffily. 'I've got to

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1117112421280994192005-05-26T05:57:00.000-07:002005-05-26T06:00:21.283-07:00

At half-time Jake was inconsolable. His beloved Liverpool 3-nil down to AC Milan in the final of the Champions League. He sat on Clive's lap sobbing. Ginny didn't have the heart to send him to bed, even though it was way past his bedtime. So he sat through the second half of the Champions League final and cheered Liverpool's three goals to bring them level at full-time. Then Ginny really

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1116857743164485512005-05-23T07:06:00.000-07:002005-05-23T07:15:43.170-07:00

Ginny's fellow dog owners are never backwards in coming forwards with their opinions on how Ginny is getting on with my training.Dog training is new to Ginny. It is also new to me. I mean I was aware that technically I couldn't expect the household to put up with my mess everywhere and so I have acquired the skill of scratching at the door when I need to go outside to 'make toilet' as Ginny's

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1116501946990456832005-05-19T04:22:00.000-07:002005-05-19T04:28:04.623-07:00

The phone range first thing yesterday morning. It was Saskia and it was urgent. Saskia is the Health Editor at Mirabelle magazine.'Kylie's got breast cancer, can you do a piece?' she breathed down the phone. Saskia, while being very up on the latest health trends doesn't seem to apply the information gleaned to her own lifestyle. According to Ginny she smokes like a chimney, drinks like a fish

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1116337034031420342005-05-17T06:33:00.000-07:002005-05-17T06:38:29.100-07:00

Ginny is feeling her age. She is 44, nearly 45. 'I can't believe the problems I'm having with hair,' she moaned to her sister Victoria the other day. 'I spend my whole time tending various hairs on my body. I've had to shave my legs because the sun's come out - above the knee too. My moustache grows faster and faster every week. My underarms look like a Brillo pad. I'm spending a fortune on hair

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1115719380993584312005-05-10T02:59:00.000-07:002005-05-10T03:04:23.416-07:00

'Mum, come quick! My wee smells,' the desperate shout came from Jake, the nine-year-old.Ginny rushed to his aid. Then another shout from the upstairs loo. 'Mine does too.' It was Ben, the 11-year-old.'Mine's alright,' said Nick, the 14-year-old. Boys pee in packs in this house. 'Clive, come here,' Ginny shrieked. Clive rushed into the already crowded downstairs loo. 'What's going on?''The boys

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1115717337351039832005-05-10T02:26:00.000-07:002005-05-10T02:28:57.366-07:00

I did return. The V-E-T is none the wiser. Ginny is none the wiser. I am puzzled at being hauled off when I feel fine - never better in fact. Ginny's a bit annoyed at the waste of her day. She whizzed to the V-E-T in her little red Peugeot 206 - she really should get a job with the motorway patrol. Speed limits hold no fear for her. The V-E-T closes for lunch at 12 noon. We left at 11.50am. The

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1115374848276884652005-05-06T03:18:00.000-07:002005-05-06T03:20:48.280-07:00

So it's all over. Ginny and Clive drowned their sorrows in Cognac as they sat up to witness the Labour victory. At 1am they finally staggered to bed. Clive had a bit of trouble getting up for work this morning. Life is definitely returning to normal. Ben took me out in the garden before school this morning. 'Arrow smells,' he reported to his Mum at breakfast time.'Charming!' I thought. 'He smells

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1115206027696436072005-05-04T04:23:00.000-07:002005-05-04T04:27:07.703-07:00

Election fever has hit the Philpott household. Both Clive and Ginny are in a quandary about who to bless with their vote. Living in true-blue Tory land they reckon it's unlikely that a vote for anyone other than their Conservative candidate would make a difference. He's got a huge majority and it would take a major postal vote fraud to shift him - come to think of it that's not so unlikely.Ginny

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1114684796239654992005-04-28T03:35:00.000-07:002005-04-28T03:39:56.240-07:00

Naming a dog is a very serious business and I am not so sure the dog owners of Aston Peverell have been taking their dog-naming duties seriously. Now that I am allowed to go out for walks - and Ginny is taking me out twice a day as every good dog owner should - I am meeting and making friends (mostly) with the dogs of Aston Peverell. Meeting all these dogs has set me to wondering about the names

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1114511525822632852005-04-26T03:25:00.000-07:002005-04-26T03:32:05.823-07:00

I think Clive occasionally dreads returning home from work. I can hear his car the moment it hits the gravel driveway. As I sit by the front door awaiting his entrance I hear him hesitate in the front porch and I'm never sure if he'll come on in or think better of it, turn around, and go somewhere far, far away from the stresses and strains of family life. His family are oblivious to all this.

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1114270032338286622005-04-23T08:24:00.000-07:002005-04-23T08:27:12.340-07:00

It's nearly two months since I came to live with the Philpotts and I sometimes wonder if they're a normal human family. Take Ginny. She has recently taken to tying a length of rope around her waist. Attached to the rope is a car tyre. She then walks briskly around the garden 100s of times, sometimes breaking into a run and always breaking into a sweat. I have a lot of fun chasing her. She never

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1114101215802502252005-04-21T09:29:00.000-07:002005-04-21T09:33:35.806-07:00

This is a post-script to this morning's blog (Ginny is trying to kill me). I take it back Ginny is not trying to kill me. The strangulating collar? The stabs from the V - E - T? It all had a purpose. And that was so that I can be taken OUTSIDE for a walk. Not just outside in the garden but out in the wide, wide world. I have taken my first walk. And it was FUN. The whole family came and I

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1114090640793492842005-04-21T06:35:00.000-07:002005-04-21T06:37:20.796-07:00

It's a suspicion that has long been building up at the back of my mind. The evidence: No. 1. On several occasions she has tried to strangle me. She keeps putting this band around my neck and then pulling it as tight as she can. Then she wedges a couple of fingers between my neck and the band and pulls it. While she'd doing this she's reading a book called: New Dog in the Family, which advises

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1113043002467943412005-04-09T03:32:00.000-07:002005-04-09T03:36:42.470-07:00

Festus came home last night - to general jubilation from my family. Not from me though. I can't see what they see in the puffed-up fur-ball. I mean what is it with all the hissing and spitting? Get a life Festus! Funny thing is he doesn't seem to do it to his family. They get the full-on winding round the legs 'look at me, look at me' treatment. Then they melt and pick him up and fuss him and he

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1111950455484772362005-03-27T11:04:00.000-08:002005-03-27T11:07:35.486-08:00

Chocolate smells fill the house. Since my last trip (see post: I take a trip) all chocolate has been kept way out of my reach and under strict supervision. Ginny spent Saturday afternoon at Touchwood in Solihull and bought half-price Duchy Original chocolate Easter eggs in John Lewis. They smell divine. They come with a box of chocolate orange thins. Ginny says they're far too good to give to the

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1111512179869595792005-03-22T09:19:00.000-08:002005-03-22T09:26:05.763-08:00

Spring has sprung! England was at its best over the weekend, at least the little bit I can see from the garden of The Green House at Aston Peverell. Clive emerged at about mid-day on Saturday. He baulked at the plate of fried eggs Ginny placed before him: 'Best thing for a hangover you know Clive.' He spent the rest of the day slumped in front of the telly catching up on the racing! As if he

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1111244929932441192005-03-19T07:04:00.000-08:002005-03-19T07:08:49.933-08:00

'Was Dad drunk last night?'It's Saturday morning. The boys are eating their breakfast. Ginny is flicking through The Daily Telegraph nursing a large cup of strong Yorkshire Tea in one hand. She gazed at Ben: 'What gave you that idea?''He was singing in the driveway and he kept dropping his keys on the garden path. It woke me up,' said Ben.'And me,' said Jake.'Yeah, I wish you parents could

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1111162853603674032005-03-18T08:17:00.000-08:002005-03-18T08:39:51.426-08:00

Cooshtie Dave went home with his wallet full . . . of money. Clive is still a loser. He has had to admit, under severe questioning from Ginny, that none of his antepost bets has come anywhere near the finish line. Clive has spent the week explaining betting tactics to the boys. It goes something like this . . .Back in the mid-winter you hand your money over to a grateful bookie to back a horse

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1111062460244680652005-03-17T04:13:00.000-08:002005-03-17T04:38:49.203-08:00

Cooshtie Dave arrived yesterday evening. He's what Ginny calls: 'a south London wide boy.'Dave is Clive's mate from Croydon. He sells second-hand cars - or motors in Sarf London parlance. As soon as he arrived Clive's voice changed. He started dropping his 'aitches' and 'torkin a bit sarf London mate.' This is how human males bond. That, and going down the pub.Ginny locked me in the back porch

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1110995834478783772005-03-16T09:50:00.000-08:002005-03-16T09:57:14.480-08:00

The drone of the helicopters started at around the same time as The Morning Line on Channel 4 - 8.30am. Yesterday was the first day of The Festival - Cheltenham, that is. All morning helicopters choppered over Aston Peverell carrying monied owners, jockeys and trainers to THE BIGGEST EVENT IN THE RACING CALENDAR. I predict the same for today. Much excitement in the Philpott establishment - well

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1110804043467349802005-03-14T04:36:00.000-08:002005-03-14T04:40:43.473-08:00

Monday 7th MarchFor some reason I overslept this morning. I awoke to the sound of Ginny shouting at the boys. 'Your school uniform is on your beds. Who wants Ready Brek?' There were a few grunts and then Ginny burst through the kitchen door and whirled around filling the kettle, laying the table, getting a loaf of bread out of the freezer. Then she stopped and opened the door to the back porch

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1110540235803744382005-03-11T03:18:00.000-08:002005-03-11T03:52:32.083-08:00

Sunday 6th MarchI knew there was a cat around this house and today I had the displeasure of meeting him.But first things first. Last night was quite good fun. As before Ginny put me to bed in the utility room. As before I woke up feeling lost and lonely. As before I howled the house down. This time though Ginny bedded down on the kitchen floor and every time I started whimpering she called out to

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1110463816939690492005-03-10T05:01:00.000-08:002005-03-10T06:27:48.930-08:00

Saturday, 5th March 2003I think I have upset my new family.I got very lonely in the night. I had a dream that I was snuggling up in my bed with my brothers and sisters. Then I woke up because I needed the loo (for you Americans out there loo is the English word for toilet or john) and I forgot where I was. It was all dark and I couldn’t see or hear anything. I’m sorry to say I panicked, and when

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11332359.post-1110370777356958362005-03-09T04:09:00.000-08:002005-03-14T04:47:15.590-08:00

Friday 4th March 2005Today was the worst day of my life.I woke up, as usual, when Two Spot, that’s my sister, started wriggling. She’s always the first to wake up. Being the greediest she makes it her duty to lick any crumbs and scraps off the kitchen floor before the rest of us have even opened our eyes. Usually Mum would scold her and tell her she’d get tummy ache but today was different. Today

Arrowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12352746093369945735noreply@blogger.com