Me, My Elf and I

Rob is in Pakistan, so my Elf and I are fending for ourselves this week. This is not strictly true as the fabulous Oliver and Martina are staying here to keep me company and whisk me to hospital just in case Tarquin or Perdita suddenly gets fed up with womb life. They are a great pair for seeing off the blues; not only do they seem to like what I cook (their standards are very low), but they have promised me a German cultural evening tomorrow, with dumplings and maultaschen (large, meat-filled ravioli thingys) and Haribo sweeties, yum yum!

Literary matters now. I have just started reading Birdsong by Sebastian Faulks: I know, it was really big news about 10 years ago and I have only just got round to seeing what the fuss is about. But really, what is the fuss about? I have got to chapter 4 and feel most unmoved; the main man is brooding and silent, and has already managed to have it off with the uptight (married) heroine without barely asking her what time it is, so silent is he. The sex scenes are graphic and a bit gross, and they say things to each other like "It's right. You know it's right. It's right as anything can ever be" (cheese!) and then SF writes things like "The force that drove through him could not be stopped" (corn!) and "the smell of roses came from her scented neck" (corny cheese!).

I will stick with it for now, because I've read everything else in the house.