Tag Archives: James Bond

Bacon, waffles, malteasers, birthday

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You can’t really tell, because he’s the eternally youthful type who probably has an ageing portrait of himself in our loft (behind the saggy maternity clothes and 20000 small empty cardboard boxes), but Tim finally turned thirty this month.

We were born in the same year, but I was first, so there’s a long eight months in the middle of the year where I am thirty and wrinkled and hobbling towards the grave, and he is gambolling along in the verdant Spring of his life at twenty-nine, so it’s always gratifying when he catches up. I have been telling him good things about thirty for ages. It’s been kind to me so far. I hope it agrees with him too.

Since it was a big one we tried to cram in all his favourite things. A boy-free night in a spa hotel in one of our favourite cities. A massage. Some huge dinners. The new James Bond film at the IMAX, in the squashy seats. Having arranged all this beforehand in secret, we left him a washing line hung with notes and sweets to follow from bed to the birthday table, to let him know what we’d be doing. Please imagine for a second pegging sweeties onto a piece of wool with tiny pegs and in the unrestrained presence of a ravenous two-year-old. At 6am. T thought Christmas had come early. I thought I’d panic-sweated out a full two pounds by the time we were done.

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Tim had specified a few techie presents I’d gratefully ordered from Amazon, so while he exclaimed over extra-powerful lights and a G-clamp (which sounds much ruder than it is, alas), the boys and I made waffles and bacon. He’d requested a Malteaser cake, and I’d rummaged all around the internet before settling on this one. It was a standard three-layer chocolate cake, made into a thing of wonder by pouring half a tin of Horlicks powder into the cake mix and frosting. Did you know the inside of Malteasers is basically solid Horlicks? I love them both, but now I love them both more.

We put an ice fountain on it instead of a regular candle. Because one thing we haven’t done yet with this house is burn it down, so we thought we’d have a crack.

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We had a quiet day while H was at school, spent mostly eating more cake, watching James Bond movies and weeping a little over Daniel Craig’s beautiful craggy face. Then we dropped the boys off with their grandparents and headed down to Winchester.

We haven’t been away without them all year. Oh, the bed. The huge, squashy-pillowed bed and uninterrupted sleep therein. The pizza-and-pie restaurant we found for dinner. The geriatric couple we made friends with in the sauna, until the lady ruthlessly stole my towel. After Tim’s massage the next morning he emerged smelling bewitchingly of lavender, and we popped into IKEA for a few bits before settling down to weep over Daniel Craig’s beautiful craggy face in HIGH DEFINITION. That bit where he drives the car into the oh my gosh I can’t even. Even Tim couldn’t even. The gentleman sat next to me couldn’t even, and this was despite Tim’s lavender oils drifting soothingly down the aisle. We haven’t been quite the same since.

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Anyway, he makes a good thirty. He makes a good basically everything. Ready for another decade, Mr J? I’ll bring the cake. You bring the G-clamp, now you’ve got one.

Reasons to be cheerful: the five films that will make your (rest of) year

I was hanging up some laundry. Henry was ‘helping’. When hanging up laundry, it’s important that someone in the team takes on the role of chewing washing machine tablets, and Henry is my guy.

Oh my good golly, I thought. (I do think like this; blame Enid Blyton.)

I have not set foot outside this house for three days.

I froze. I had to sit down. Henry took advantage of my inattention to dive headfirst into the washing machine.

Know what I’ve been doing instead? Well, washing up, tidying, supervising naps and persuading reluctant scrambled eggs into Henry’s reluctant mouth, since you ask.

But also: watching film trailers. You guys, the rest of 2012 is an embarrassment of riches. Here are the five I’m most excited about, in date order – get out your filofax.

1) The Dark Knight Rises: 20th July

Christopher Nolan’s third and – supposedly – final foray into a Batman so broody even his helmet looks sad.

Expect: Christian Bale’s Silent Heartache Face (TM), face masks for everyone, lots of stuff blowing up.

2) Anna Karenina: 7th September

I love a good emotional literary adaptation. This one being especially welcome, because it means I won’t have to get to the end of Tolstoy’s original.

Expect: Keira Knightley’s Period Drama Jaw (TM), flouncy dresses, and the campest Russian moustache since Czar Nicholas the Second.

3) Skyfall: 26th October

Bond, James Bond etc, still working off his heartache by shooting guns, crashing cars and wearing dinner jackets LIKE A BOSS.

Expect: Daniel Craig. Looking craggy. Growing an Anger Beard. Shooting people. Jacking it all in and going on holiday to Marbella. No, I jest. Shooting people some more.

4) The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey: 14th December

It’s over a decade since Peter Jackson’s Middle Earth first came to the screen (no, really – argh), and he felt he hadn’t really mined the dwarf beard for its full potential. Hence, the Hobbit, Part 1.

Expect: hobbits and trolls and dwarves and dragons. Martin Freeman’s Face of Gentle Bewilderment (TM). And beards. Many beards.

5) The Great Gatsby: 26th December

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s masterpiece in Baz Luhrmann glitter. Leonardo Di Caprio, Toby Maguire, Carey Mulligan, twenties outfits…if this doesn’t make your Christmas, you need a Ghost from Christmas Past.

Expect: music, lights, lots of good actors dressed up like they’re attending Elton John’s christening party. And pure fabulousness, that too.

With the new Les Miserables adaptation – Russell Crowe! Singing, probably! – and Quentin Tarantino’s western effort Django Unchained both following in January, you have every reason to love your life and everything in it for the next six months.

Um. We’ll be looking for babysitters, if anyone’s offering.

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