Lockdown Creativity #2

Creativity is still hard to come by in this house.  I'm spending lots of time 'working' at the kitchen table in an effort to ensure my sons are keeping to their timetables, which in effect - since my laptop screen faces away from theirs - means that in reality I'm spending way too much time falling down internet rabbit holes.

There are some benefits to that though; here is another dose of people being way more creative with the lockdown restrictions than I am.

Enjoy.


Let's start with Meryl Streep, Christine Baranski (The Good Fight, Mamma Mia) and Audra McDonald slaying Stephen Sondheim's Ladies Who Lunch - all the while observing social distancing rules. 




I'm dating myself here, but Crowded House's 'Don't Dream It's Over' takes me back 33 years in an instant.  They still sound amazing; here's a link to the band performing a live lockdown version for the 'Music From the Front Line' benefit concert in Australia.




Then, this is - well, enlightening.  Watch if you have a spare 12 minutes and if, like me, you grew up thinking slapping on foundation, eyeshadow, mascara, blusher and lipstick was a bit of an effort.  And especially watch if you don't have daughters to educate you otherwise.  Plus, Hamdeyy gets her male friends to give the commentary, and that in itself is worth a watch.




And finally, something to look forward to: filming has just begun of a lockdown version of Alan Bennett's Talking Heads.  I can't wait.  Full details here.

Because we all need to shake it off sometimes...

Got the Monday blues?

You won't have after watching this.

Genius.

Conversations with children; not for the faint-hearted

If anybody had told me about the conversations I would have with my children before I had children, I must admit that some of them might have made me pause - just for a moment - and ask whether or not joining the baby race was such a good idea.  Well - that, or I just flat out would never have believed them.  Edited highlights include (but are not limited to):

Conversations about lions and sharks and which would win in a fight (note; remarks regarding the incompatibility of these animals natural elements are usually ignored).

Conversations about dinosaurs and terror birds and which would win in a fight (note: thinking about raising the issues of these creatures hailing from different periods in pre-history?  I refer you to the lion and the shark conversation).

Conversations about whether it is possible to build a bespoke A380 airplane with a swimming pool and vegetable garden along-side.  Because why not, really?  All you need to do is include a mobile airbubble around the garden and bob's your uncle - freshly grown produce at 30,000 feet.

Conversations about why women (specifically, Mum), feels the need to lengthen her eyelashes with mascara everyday (I don't know, child!  I just do, OK?).

Conversations about funnel-web spiders and dung beetles.

Conversations about dandelion tap roots (which, I can tell you, I was pretty damn proud of myself for being on the ball enough to be able to discuss at 8.15am in the morning).

And of course my particular favourite; conversations about childbirth, and how it may be more painful for the baby than for the mother (note; this point of view is strictly that of my children, and without prejudice...).


But now, someone has come up with the perfect way to highlight the sort of ridiculous conversations parents have with their children every single day.  Matthew Clarke has - in a stroke of genius - transferred words that  have issued from his 2 year old daughters' mouth into that of a fully grown man.  The results are hilarious - and more than a little bit creepy.  I suggest that you don't show this clip to any parents-to-be that you know...

Lazy Bloggers unite...

I know, I know.  It's lazy blogging.  But I just saw this and couldn't resist.  So, for those of you who liked Cat Vs Printer, here is....

Sorry, can you pipe down at the back, please?  I know it's Friday and everything but please, pay attention.

Now, here it is...

Cat vs - Oh, for Pete's sake.  Stop rustling the hobnobs packet and slurping your tea.  I can't hear myself think over here.  Are we all settled now?  Are we?  That includes you - yes, you.  Yes, I can see you scribbling down your to-do list on the back of an envelope.

Right.  Here we are:

Cat vs cat vs printer.  If you can be bothered to tear yourself away from your packet of Walkers crisps, that is...

We've all been there. Though maybe not as a cat...

Cannot... resist... Must... embed... clip... on blog...

Via @CaitlinMoran on Twitter this evening

(note; contains swear words.  But they ARE in context.  Honest...)

Aim High, Or: How Trying to Impress Your Children Can Alter Your Behaviour...

The snow has finally arrived here in Moscow. We've been back from our Christmas break now for just over two weeks, and ten days ago what seemed like a never-ending cycle of snow-thaw misery broke, the temperature dropped below freezing, and the white stuff came to stay until - probably - April.

This can be a pain obviously, but in a city that is geared up for this type of bad weather (official sources claim there are 10,000 people working on keeping Moscow moving), it's not as bad as you might think. It is at least brighter out there, even on these dark mornings, and - hurrah - we get to cross country ski.

Don't get me wrong; cross country skiing is no picnic, it's hard work. But you're exercising outside rather than in, usually in beautiful surroundings, and quite often in sunshine bright enough to need sunglasses, so I love it - up to a point.

And that point? To be honest - as a non-natural sportsperson better acquainted with the sofa and a book than fresh air - I'm pretty rubbish at it. But after a successful initial foray into the woods last weekend with Husband and the Boys (all of us on skis - it never ceases to amaze me that two boys who complain about walking from the house to the car will happily cross country ski for an hour or more), I felt pretty good about my prospects when I agreed to repeat the experience with a couple of friends yesterday. One of them, I knew from last year, was pretty experienced, but the other assured me that she had only done this a couple of times before and was still pretty much a novice - so I thought I would be OK.

Ha! Ha! And thrice, HA!

I knew I was out of my depth when the supposedly inexperienced friend bounced into her skis as I struggled with my new bindings and quickly instructed me on how to put them on properly, before she skate-skied off into the distance like a professional.

Oh.

As Husband pointed out later, this friend is from Canada where cross country skiing is a little more common than in the wilds of Gloucestershire (where I grew up), and at one time was a national competition-level skater. What the hell did I expect?

In any case it was clear after I returned home yesterday, after more falls than I could count, that I need help. So last night, Boy #1 - also keen to tune up his cross country ski-skills - and I turned to the oracle YouTube in search of instruction. (What? If you can learn how to fillet a fish, put up a garden trampoline, and make a pinata on YouTube, why not pick up some tips on skiing?). Anyway, we found a whole host of clips offering helpful hints, and watched one of them.

Now, here's where this rambling post gets to the point of the title.

Boy #1 and I watched, with me laughing hollowly from time to time as I ruefully rubbed my bruised behind, while the presenter of the video showed us various techniques to improve our 'classic diagonal' ski style. Towards the end of it, the hints became a little more advanced, and the last couple of clips showed a man skiing at pace down a hill and round a corner both at the same time. I regarded this through narrowed eyes, wondering if I would ever manage to come down a hill without taking my skis off half way down the slope in disgust at my repeated tumbles.

Boy #1, however, is ever the optimist when it comes to my abilities. As the skier came pegging it down the hill, he turned to me and said authoritatively "That's you, in three weeks Mum." And as the guy went at speed around a corner, he looked at me, winked, and said "And that's you in four..."

Right. I'm off now to practise my cross country skiing. There's an 8 year old Boy out there with high expectations to impress...

By the way, I'm looking for ideas on how to celebrate my forthcoming 1,000th post on The Potty Diaries. Thoughts?