Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Rinky dink

Pink is the colour of my return. I came home to a kitchen table which has been tinted a lovely shade of deep rose pink. My six-year-old said: "You like pink. Don't you, mummy?" I looked at the table, which was once my grandfather's. It is oak, you can see the grain through its pink glaze. I looked at the carpet in the kitchen of our rented house. Also pink. A "no getting away from it" shade of pink. A "I hope you are not expecting to keep your deposit" shade of pink. "We were playing at being master chefs," the six-year-old continued. "We made bubbles." He giggled. He kept watching me.

The master chefs knew what they were doing. They tipped red, blue and yellow food dye into a bowl along with honey, syrup (maple), curry powder(madras), rice(brown), pasta (quills), ketchup(Heinz), baking powder, bicarbonate of soda and a bottle of vinegar(malt). We have peformed a less ambitious variant on this experiment in the garden as mummy explained the nature of a chemical reaction and the creation of a gas. At least, she pointed and said: "Look." During the master chef extravaganza, in the kitchen laboratory, Daddy was upstairs, trying to get the baby to go to sleep . "You know that story of the magic porridge pot," he said. "It was like that. But worse."

I am trapped. I have encouraged scientific experiments. I have banned TV. I have left Daddy in charge. "You do like it don't you mummy?" asked my six-year-old Heston Blumenthal again, anxious now. I caught back a sigh. I nodded. Slowly. "Pink is my very favourite colour."

36 comments:

Pig in the Kitchen said...

Now that you've lost your deposit, you may as well invest in some child-proofing for the cupboards...what would have happened if they had found the black food colouring?!

Anonymous said...

Pretentious ? Moi ?

wife in the north said...

I am bored by the anonymous comments. Not upset. Not angered. Bored. Witless. Get yourself a name and a life. Stop reading blogs and start writing one. If you can't do that, at least try and be funny. I promise I'll laugh. "Look the tosser with no name made a joke. Ha Ha." (I bet all your friends think you're really funny.)
Also, you do know, you are not as anonymous as you think, don't you?

Minx said...

Wifey, non-bloggers probably don't realise just how much information their visiting cookie deposits in the bank of a blog 'Site Metre' or 'Stat Counter'. I am still amazed by the the number of ISP's and URL's that are picked out from a supposedly 'anonymous' caller. In light of recent events on 'Rachel of of North London' where she was 'stalked' both on her blog and by email, I think we can safely say that no one is truly anonymous.
I am glad you have made this stand. No one wants a bunch of syrupy comments on their blog but these anonymous twonks are nothing but tiresome cowards with no substance other than hot air.

Btw, under my tablecloth lies the remnants of the The Misunderstood Mayonaise Massacre of '94 and under the rug in the louge lies The Great Candle Crisis - memories all.

Omega Mum said...

I put off reading your blog because I was worried it wouldn't live up to the hype. But it does! I'm hooked......

Kaycie said...

Thinking back on the kitchen mishaps of my children, I cannot decide which one was worst: maple syrup on each and every last one of the stuffed animals (an entire bottle, mind you) or the three cups of shortening smeared all over the back of the loveseat and down onto the carpet. Suffice it to say that the animals and the loveseat were never again quite the same!

sunshine said...

re:anonymous comments

Perhaps those of us who have identities could just not read and certainly not react to any comment by "anonymous". Let them be completely unknown.

Mopsa said...

Oh god - pink. You move into a new house. You paint out all the pink. The bright pink, the fuschia, the soft pink, the white with a hint of bloody pink. You rip the pink loo and basin out by the roots and replace with white. You move house. You start all over again. Pink is not anonymous but pink is just as irritating.

Isobel said...

My wise mother told me, years ago, when I was the recipient of snide and jealous comments, that the perpetrators of such behaviour are always unhappy individuals who wish they could do what you are doing. She was right.Ignore them.

lilokmermaid said...

Oh my ... I guess I shall not complain that my 2 year old squeezed out a whole bottle of yellow mustard. At least she squeezed it all into a bowl, sitting very nicely on the table! Didn't even spill a drop. LOL

wakeupandsmellthecoffee said...

My son, when he was three, decided yellow would look very nice on the stairs and proceeded to paint some very yellow graffiti. It faded in time, which was a shame because it always made me smile. He also borrowed scissors one day and cut all the flowers off the plants outside. Then he wanted a stick to play with so dug up a very nice azalea I'd just planted. And the budding gardener thought he'd help me weed the garden so pulled up the broccoli plants I'd nurtured from seed.

james higham said...

A bit like Piglet when Eeyore gave his House away to Owl. Sigh.

jane said...

Yeay!! You finally cracked!!! So happy you are not tolerating the anonymices any more - they are the web equivalent of those snotty kids who used to send mean notes in class but not sign them. Let the saddoes find another blog to blight, I say.

Anyway, back to the subject of our children's vandalism (albeit unintentional). My daughter, then four, wrote me a biro message on our stripped pine dressing table whilst I was in hospital having just produced her brother - it said "Dera Mummy, hop you are weel" - at first I polished like fury to erase the writing, but failed thank goodness. Now she's 30 it's one of my most treasured possessions and I read it often. Your boys sound a real handful and you sound as if you're enjoying them. I love pink.

Cathy said...

We had the litre of cooking oil tipped not on the kichen floor but on the hall carpet just ouside the kitchen, then trodden into the dining room...

weaselina said...

WITN, your anti-anonymous rant was excellent. I hope the anonymously posted poison isn't really getting to you - it's kind of fascinating, in a different way to your blog, in an all-human-life-is-here kind of way. You're just lucky to be on the productive, sane, balanced and happy side of the scale. (I think everyone can slide from one side to another, but those stuck on the negative side are a warning to us all...)

mutleythedog said...

Pink is OK. A bleach bomb would help. Make sure the children are not in range. On the other hand....

You have a range of pathetic cowards who post anonymously here Wifey. Well done for your response. I shall take them outside for a good kicking if you wish.... violence being a first resort for some. Well only me actually... I trust you have received the parcel of southern treats and erotica?

Blithe said...

Thank you for your writing. Your accounts of your children's antics often make me smile in wry recognition. Reading from Australia, I seem to read the post before comments are posted so I have to come back again later. As someone mentioned, you learn about human nature reading people's responses to your writing.

Btw, you featured briefly on my blog yesterday.

twotreehill.blogspot.com

lady macleod said...

It's alright. I'm quite alright now. No wait a minute I have to sit back on the floor again to ROLL IN LAUGHTER! I can do this because it was not my kitchen nor my creative children. What fabulous fun, thank you.

@themill said...

If you know who it is why don't you 'publish and be damned'? It'll make a great blog!
A brand new lipstick smeared over the entire contents of the bedroom was fun too. Try The Coquet Cleaning Co. Don't know their number, but they are brilliant. Cost less than your deposit

Siobhan said...

I remember my dad telling me about this blog a few weeks ago and I just remembered to look it up - I too live in the north, Newcastle, which is possibly not far from you but I love it here because it's so full and vibrant compared to where you are which sounds very quiet and empty! I'm loving your blogs so far though, it's getting me through my working day, I look forward to the next blog!!

Alien said...

Don't worry, could be far worse.
I used to be locked out of the house when my parents were out, by the age of eight I had learnt how to break in! My first adventure in cooking, cos I was bored and "home alone" was making rock cakes. All went very well with Mum & Dad till I said, "cor this mixing food lark, don't half get your hand's clean, they went quite green. I wonder why!!

Norman said...

The pink kitchen!?! Oh dear! It reminds me of an incident when two of my children were little. They got into my studio and decided to do some painting, "like Daddy", there was Prussian Blue everywhere!! Believe me a little Prussian Blue goes a VERY long way.
I was not amused at the time but forty years down the road and we still have a laugh about it.

Her on the Hill said...

When my three were younger I was desperate to have some peace and quiet for five minutes so I gave them all toys and locked myself in the loo with the paper (as opposed to the one without paper?). No, no, a newspaper. Anyway, when I came out I was treated to a beautiful Salvador Dali (as imitated by 18 month old with biro) all over my white sofa. The pot of varnish on the sitting room rug just before the estate agents were coming to photograph the house was a good one too...

But on to more serious matters. You were in a (vaguely) political mood yesterday. With your interest in politics, your current rural northern location and your education hat on, I would be so grateful (as a fellow 'hauled up to the north from the south' wife) - if you have even a teensy moment (ha!) - if you could read my blog of yesterday (9th May) re the earmarked closure of our village infants school - when just months ago it was awarded an outstanding Ofsted report and put in the top 10 per cent in the country. I would really appreciate your comments and any advice on how I can rattle a few cages via the press - e.g letter to Times Editor, or contact education editor? If you could steer me in any way, that would be fantastic. Thank you.

Her on the Hill said...

Ps, sorry, me again. I know Simon Jenkins wrote 'small schools work better' in a piece entitled 'Government by control freaks is tying our services in knots' on April 15th and Alexandra Blair wrote an article on May 4th 'Thousands join exodus from state education'. So our story seems quite topical at the moment...and that's where our daughter will be going if they shut the school as the alternative state school they are offering is Ofsted rated as merely 'satisfactory' - with the new head having just resigned due to stress. Doesn't bode well.

City Girl said...

I seem to have my own mishaps without the children.

I was filling the sink one morning before work to do the washing up and forgot about it, nearly flooded the kitchen. It was like Titanic all over again.

Quick pass me a life jacket!!

aminah said...

i recently read a brilliant blog in which the blogger had courteously replied to each and every person who took the bother to write a comment...(incidently she wrote a wee mention to almost 25 commenters) how's that for a way to do away with the nasty anonomous commenters? Instead of giving them their attention, give your attetion to all the folk who love reading your blog...without them blogging would be very boring!!! so here's to the readers!

The Secretary said...

Oooo.......stained carpet - I have a carpet shampooer you know!!!!

wife in the north said...

re mutley: I have more erotica now, thanks to your kindness, than I know what to do with (both literary and accessories). Some of it fits. Some of it does not fit. I am keeping all of it on the off-chance I grow in to it.
re her on the hill: I have replied on your blog
re aminah: it would be courteous to reply to all the comments. I realise I only do it occasionally. If I did reply, it would increase the time I spend blogging and decrease the time I spend living in the real world (which would, of course, give me less to blog about. Eventually I think I would disappear all together.)

The Good Woman said...

Oh God, I think gazing at my precious two year old. What have I got myself into?

jane said...

Dear Wifey,

I know you can't reply to everyone, but it is just great to see comments from you. I love your writing and have become fascinated by the emotions and reactions you engender with it - your regular readers are so incredibly protective of you (apart from the nameless ones who use it to have a little snipe at you, but we can deal with THEM, no problem). It must feel that you have a whole army of supporters and friends, which no doubt helped when you moved from London.

Hope you are still in the pink.


Best wishes.

Her on the Hill said...

Thanks for taking the time/effort to reply on my blog - fantastic. Some of the strands you have suggested are already underway, others are all great ideas. I thought that making a noise was a good plan and am really pleased you confirm that wholeheartedly! Will let you know how we get on in due course. Many thanks again.

Best wishes

Ps, agree too with your comment re commenting. As you so rightly say, if you did that you're children would die of neglect and you'd be found petrified at the keyboard!Oh, and the ironing wouldn't get done. Gotta live life to write about it!

Cath said...

Hi
My dad told me about this blog and it is fantastic and SO true!
BTW, not all anonymous bloggers are "cowards", "tossers", "snotty kids who send mean notes" or "saddoes" (sic)! I always sign within my comment when posting anonymously. I am anonymous because I do not have a blog and do not wish to start one. (I had to create a Google account to leave my first message here - I am NOT guilty of any previous anon posts and have to admit, getting a Google account was easy!)

But I find my dad's blog great (Tholeman) and the two children he is talking about painting his studio prussian blue? ('Norman says' below....) Well, one of them was me!

As an adult with children of my own now I can so identify with what you are saying WITN. I was born and bred in a tiny village in Northumberland and my parents were not natives. They no longer live there, and we are all still "strangers" not quite "fitting in". After all they hadn't been there long, me mum n dad - only 20 years. As for me, well, it was the only "home" I knew for the first 18 years of life until I left home at 18. Strange ol' world innit?

Keep trying WITN and you'll find some genuine folk there, and some funny folk. Like anywhere else. It's just more obvious sometimes due to the isolation from the rest of the world. PCs weren't invented then. I think you'll find your PC a Godsend and keep you in touch with what is going on. I moved to London from a village and boy was that a culture shock! Similar to your experience I guess but in reverse.

I totally agree though, without a doubt, Northumberland is "God's country" as I call it. It is beautiful at all times of the year. And I miss the snow. And the freedom. And the sounds of the trees...... Oh don't get me started I'll get all sentimental and want to go back (again)!

All the best
(Norman's eldest)

jane said...

Hi Cath, no one said that ALL anonymous contributors are "cowards/tossers/snotty kids who......" etc., but over the months I've been reading this blog it has become a bit evident that those wishing to leave, shall we say, more ascerbic, personal or downright nasty messages have chosen to remain anonymous, hence my comments. There have however also been loads of anonymous contributors who have been perfectly lovely and for whatever reason do not wish to name themselves (or get a Google account - this was me until I got round to it!), and my comments were obviously not aimed at them. Sorry if you thought this was a blanket rant, it wasn't.


Best wishes, and regards to your Dad (nice blog, Norman).

Cath said...

No probs Jane. I wasn't ranting at you inparticular either but took the quotes from two or three posts. I have also seen some derogatory anon posts and some removed. Not surprised WITN removed the anon facility, which is a shame for those genuine posters.

As they say. one bad apple.....

The Ludingtonian said...

My parents too used to encourage the Spirit of Scientific Enquiry. I gave them cause to reconsider that policy.

My father had manage to procure some truly impressive roman candles. I wanted to know how they worked. It seemed reasonable then to disassemble one.

They contained disks of gunpowder mixed with the chemicals that make the colours. I wondered what they looked like when they burned. I stacked them up neatly on the kitchen counter and lit them. A great geyser of flame leapt up, loads of sparks and clouds of smoke. It was pretty.

All these years later I don't know why I thought a piece of kitchen foil would be adequate to protect the kitchen counter. The fire burned through the foil, through the Formica and into the chipboard beneath.

I shouldn't have been surprised that my mother didn't buy the "I don't know anything about it. Honest" line. I should have prepared an alibi beforehand.

Self employed mum x said...

All so true, love it.

I think 'tosser' has to be the most hilarious, descriptive word.

Check out my blether and see what you think:

www.selfemployedmum.blogspot.com