A lighter look at this week's news

I was pleasantly surprised (and relieved) to see that Melania Trump can actually smile, albeit, it took a French Emmanuel to achieve this miracle.

In fact, she positively beamed on occasion during the Macrons' visit to the US and was ever so slightly coquettish, when the French President held her hand for a beat longer than necessary.

Unfortunately, also beaming and being quite coquettish with Macron, was her husband and it appeared to be reciprocated. But then again, you don't get to bear the name Emmanuel and not attempt to love everyone....saints, sinners, buffoons... the lot.

Talking of buffoons, Kanye West was probably including me as part of the 'mob', when he tweeted, 'The mob cannot make me not love him (Trump)'.

Now, this may come as a huge shock to you (and your ego) Mr. West, but I, for one, have no intention of stopping your love fest with Trump. In fact, I have a suggestion.

Since both of you are no strangers to reality shows, why not start one and call it 'Doh West', although, 'Carry on Trumping' would probably be a more apt title.

Pleasant surprise number two came when Melania smiled again! This time at Barbara Bush's funeral. Ironic, that most of the time she looks like she is  attending a funeral (or sucking a lemon or tangerine) but when she actually attends a funeral, she smiles!

I am being slightly disingenuous, it's not as if she was beaming through the whole service; it was when past Presidents and First Ladies (and a lady photo bomber) posed for a photograph.

I found that photograph fascinating - first of all, you had smiley Melania (possibly brought on by the absence of a certain President) with her arm around Michelle Obama's waist.

Then there was George Bush, with one arm around his wife, Laura and the other around Hillary Clinton, who was smiling delightedly.

Never mind that her hubby appeared to be relegated to the background - he might as well have kept the photo bomber lady company (unless her name was Monica Lewinsky, of course).



DJ Chris Evans recently claimed that our Queen (Elizabeth II) loves ABBA and that her favourite song is 'Dancing Queen'. That is a relief. Being the cynic that I am, I had a sneaky suspicion that it might be 'God Save the Queen'.

I am talking about the official version of course, not the Johnny Rotten version. It would be of serious concern if that was her favourite.

Another titbit to appear is that she doesn't like garlic. Why is that a surprise to anyone? One would not want one's breath to smell while one meets and talks to important people.

Now, One, who blogs to important people (and can therefore love and eat garlic) has to bid one goodbye and implore one to try and keep it light until next week (but if one gets tempted, one should indulge in moderation).

A lighter look at the news

Queen Elizabeth II celebrated her 92nd Birthday and a grateful nation had a concert in her honour, to say thank you Ma'am. 

Somehow, while inviting artists to perform at the said concert, the organisers appeared to forget in whose honour it was supposed to be.

Now, I am not suggesting that we are the kind of family that sit together and watch programs like these, but it happened that we were at my Mother-in-Law's, sitting around the dining table, when the program came on.

Blissfully, it was something we could all watch and, my girls in particular, were relieved that they  did not have to squirm at the goings on, on the TV, whilst Grandma was in the room, as has happened on previous occasions.

At one point, the presenter, Zoe Ball, squealed and enthused with delight, 'the next artist has come all the way from Toronto, Canada (for those of us who don't know where Toronto is). Shawn Mendes!'

I wish he had stayed in Toronto, Canada. I almost fell asleep in my soup by the time he'd finished his song. Then there was Anne Marie (I am going to pretend that I knew who she was).

She was dressed in a green and white polka dot outfit, not unlike a  50's Stepford wife, ready for a day at the beach. I would like to say she was more entertaining that Mr Mendes, but I can't, because she wasn't.

Then, the unlikely alliance of Sting and Shaggy. At least Mr. Boombastic woke us up, although not in a good way where Elizabeth Regina is concerned, I fear.

Not sure the Birthday girl wanted to hear Mr. Lover, Lover inform her that he was smooth as silk and had great sexual physique and  was well built.

I held my breadth for his next song and was mightily relieved that he did not choose to let her Majesty know what he did on the bathroom floor with the girl next door. 

The Queen probably thought that was it, but little did she know that Craig David was about to pop up, telling her all about this 24 year old girl (rub it in with the 92 year old, why don't you) he met on Monday, who he took out for a drink on Tuesday and guess what they did on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday.

Not something you should be bragging about to someone old enough to be your Grandma, Craig. It doesn't matter that you chilled on Sunday. I don't think she cares - she is still recovering from what you did on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday.

No wonder she looked quite grim most of the time. She only appeared to crack a smile when Laura Mvula hit her high notes. And when Alfie Boe finished his song, I thought I lipread her saying something complimentary to the person sitting next to her. Can't remember who it was, someone Royal would be my guess.

Guess who Donald Trump's been tweeting against this week? I don't think you'll need more than one guess, but then again, we are talking Trump's tweets, so you might need some help.

It is the former FBI Chief, Mr Comey, who gave his first interview since leaving the White House and what he had to say (shock, horror) wasn't pleasant.

He alleged that Donald Trump treats women like pieces of meat (I never would have guessed) and that he lies consistently (knock me down with a feather why don't you).

Formidable linguist that he is, Trump dipped into his vast vocabulary, to come up with the most sophisticated  insult he could think of - 'Slimeball'!

Mr Comey is probably still reeling and doesn't know what hit him...but then again perhaps he does.... a slimeball!

Until next week, try and keep it light!

A lighter look at the news

Poor Mariah Carey experienced the fright of her life recently, when she was booked into a $30 a night hostel in Barcelona. Turns out, it was to do with some advert she was sponsoring.

She was appeased to discover that the room had a specially fitted cocktail bar and an en-suite bathroom. Thanks heavens for that - I can imagine Mimi demanding a jewel encrusted, bespoke commode, if there wasn't one.

Anyway, Mariah was so taken by the novelty, she said, 'It was fabulous. Give Hostels a go!' 

Well, Mimsie dear, it may come as a surprise to you, but as it happens, most of us have experienced $30 hostels. However, really glad you enjoyed it so much. Btw, good plug - HostelWorld must be very pleased.

I am a little concerned that the longer Donald Trump is the President of the US, the more he is beginning to believe that he is the Country itself, rather than its top representative.

I am talking about his reaction to the FBI's search of the premises of the lawyer who allegedly paid Stormy Daniels.
Mr.Trump tweeted that it was a 'disaster' for the country.

To give him the benefit of the doubt, he may have meant that if incriminating evidence was found (it would be 'fake' obviously), he may have been forced to resign and that would be a disaster.

I agree, if that happened there is a possibility it may have been a disaster- America may have run out of Champagne!

As it happens, nothing was found and the 'disaster' was averted. The future is still Orange.

Another of my concerns is that Theresa May is stooping her shoulders more and more these days. You know me - I am all heart, so I have a suggestion.

Just like most athletes listen to their favourite inspirational song before an important match or track event, I suggest Tay May do the same. Once again, being generous of heart, I have done the research and have come up with the perfect song.

All she has to do is just fit in her earplugs before those pesky Brexit talks and feel the strength and stability return.

ps. If the 'English Man' is Tony Blair, do us all a favour Mrs. May and grant his request - just make sure you're wearing six inch Stilettos! 

We know that Jesus Christ forgave his enemies, even when experiencing the most excruciating pain while being crucified. Now, if you are a Labour supporter, you will be touched to learn that  Jeremy Corbyn is big on forgiveness too.

Our modern day JC has said, and I quote, 'I forgive them. It's ok, I've got over it.' What terrible suffering did they inflict on him, that warranted that grand gesture of forgiveness?

They are Camden Council who turned down his application to be a trainee Social Worker, way back in 1969! Well Mr Corbyn may have forgiven you, Camden Council, but I bet there are lots of others who haven't. 

Until next week, try and keep it light! 

A lighter look at Stating the Obvious

Have you ever wondered why we waste so much of our time, energy, and words on some of the things we say? Perhaps not, but, unfortunately,  I do. So, lucky you, I've decided to write about it.

Just in case you're wondering what on earth I am talking about, let me paint a scenario. You've returned from a holiday, very relaxed, possibly a little smug. You then bump into an acquaintance.

'You're back from your holiday?' they ask. 'No', you think sarcastically, 'didn't want to end the holiday, so I sent my double.'

Of course, to their face, you say 'Yes!' enthusiastically and proceed to give unasked for details, whilst your acquaintance's eyes glaze over and they wish you indeed had sent your double and were still in Hawaii or where ever else you'd been to.

Another example, is someone saying, 'Don't mean to stick my nose in'. Well, good old Pinocchio is definitely lying and has every intention of sticking their nose in.

I am sure most of us would love to say, 'Didn't think for a minute that you were going to. Thank you for your consideration'. 

Instead we suffer through some well intended but hardly original, advice.

Yet another one is, 'Don't take offence but...'. Loosely translated, that means 'Brace yourself because I am about to offend you'. Unfortunately, I can be at the receiving end of those words, particularly when my girls' are critiquing my outfit and/or make up.

So, sometimes, I guess, it can be genuine. Far be it for me to cause embarrassment by making the wrong choice of outfit or make up before I leave the house.

Mind you, talking about leaving the house, I was about to go shopping the other day, when my eldest requested that I buy a new drink - Mango flavoured Coke (I know).

Just as I was about to step out, I got another reminder. 'Please don't forget the Coke'. For her sake, I wish she'd stopped there. Unfortunately, she added, 'only if they've got it'.

Well, this is my daughter, so I replied, 'I will try my best to get it, even if they don't have it!' She harrumphed her displeasure but didn't say anything (must've really wanted to try that drink quite badly).

Just before shutting the door, I poked my head in and called out, 'no offence!'

A lighter look at the week

Apparently, Bake Off's 52 year old Paul Hollywood is dating a woman 30 years his junior. Just to confirm, in case your Maths is not up to scratch, he is dating a 22 year old woman. 

Apparently, Mr. Blue Eyes met her at a pub where she worked as a barmaid and where he'd gone to arrange a surprise party for his then wife. 

I'm sure that wasn't the kind of 'surprise' his wife was looking forward to.  Nevertheless, let it be a lesson to all of us. 

If you know that your husband is arranging a surprise party (and you will always know, there isn't a man alive who is canny enough to pull off a surprise party for his wife without her knowing) make sure it is at your home, where trust worthy family and friends are involved - not 22 year old barmaids.

An added bonus is that you will be clued in and can work on your Oscar winning 'very pleasantly surprised' facial expression and reaction.

But then again, not many husbands are millionaire celebrity bakers  with piercing blue eyes, that manage to hypnotise 22 year old women, so you are probably safe in a pub or restaurant. Less tidying and washing up to do.

The one that (almost) got away.....

Very occasionally, I get bitten by the 'clean up' bug. I cannot emphasise the 'very' that preceded the occasionally. However, I did get bitten, which proved very unfortunate timing for the little potato (Steve McQueen) pictured above.

From what I can gather, Mr McQueen wasn't keen on ending up in one of my curries, casseroles or as a perfectly crisped up roast potato. So he forged a plan.

He retreated to the further-est corner in my vegetable cupboard and cooked up his Great Escape.

He grew appendages, although I am unsure whether he intended to morph into a spider or an octopus. Possibly the former, as there would be better opportunity to crawl out of my cupboard rather than swim out of it.

To cut a short story even shorter, Stevie Mac (as I affectionately called him during our 10 minute acquaintance), is now happily rotting in peace in my compost bin.

Talking of potato heads, Greg Wallace  has managed to annoy a whole nation and no, it's not Britain, he has been doing that to us for years. It's Malaysia.

Greg was scathing on MasterChef, while critiquing a Rendang cooked by a lady of Malaysian origin.

On the off chance that you reside under a rock and only come out to read my blog (I flatter myself) and you haven't heard of 'MasterChef', it is a cooking program on  TV. 

Participants jump through culinary hoops in a bid to win the 'MasterChef' title.

In Britain, there are two 'Judges', one is a chef called John Torode and the other....how can I put this politely - I can't, so I won't - is a glorified greengrocer called Greg Wallace.

As the show has gone from strength to strength, so has Mr. Wallace's ego and facial contortions.

Coming back to the incident that sparked a nation's fury,  a contestant cooked a Rendang (chicken - or any other meat - stewed in coconut milk and spices). Mr W took one bite and declared that the skin wasn't 'crispy'. 

Unfortunately, he did not stop there (he rarely does). He proceeded to chide her over the fact that he would like to taste the sauce but he couldn't, as all the sauce was on the skin.

Now, I am not a bad cook (if I do say so myself) but when I cook a Goan chicken curry (coconut milk and spices), it would take a miracle for the chicken to have crispy skin.

This is what I shouted at Mr. Wallace via the medium of television. Apparently, I wasn't the only one. The entire global Malaysian population, including the Malaysian Prime Minister, erupted on social media.

Did Mr Wallace bother to whisper those two words - 'mea culpa' - that may have assuaged their anger? Of course not. Come to think of it, I am still recovering from his pronounciation of Bacalhau and Rendang, so perhaps 'I am sorry' would be preferable.

Anyway, instead of an apology, he chose to offer an 'explanation'. Apparently, what he meant was that the skin was not cooked. Which begs the question, why did he not use words like 'raw' or 'under cooked'? 

Brings to mind Mark Twain's quote, 'Better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt.'

In an attempt to play Dec to Greg's Ant, Jon Torode tweeted something about Indonesian food and ended it with a breezy 'namaste'... and Malaysia erupted again!

Should've gone with 'salamat datang' John, google is just a click away.

Until next week, try and keep it light.

A lighter look at Easter

I read a horror story recently. Apparently retailers are
trying very hard to turn Easter into Christmas. I am not sure
how you turn a birth into a death and resurrection but where
profit and money are concerned, I guess, miracles can happen.

I know commercial retailers are not looking at it
from a Christian angle and I also know, some people will start jumping up and down, reminding us that both Christmas and Easter have Pagan origins.

In my opinion, that only gives Pagans the right to complain. If not, don’t exploit Paganism to make a cheap point.

Also,will those jumping-up-and-down people explain how some people, who can’t tell the difference between Lent and length, now piously give up chocolates, crisps, alcohol and other ‘bad’ stuff, 'for Lent' to detoxify their body, not so much their soul?

Embarrassingly, I now sound  preachy. Not my intention at all, but when I read that retailers are doing their very best to

commercialise Easter by way of encouraging consumers

to buy Easter presents and decorations, I get a bit grumpy.

I start to imagine a huge lit up Easter Egg hanging on my

front door, and children making lists and leaving carrots
for the Easter Bunny, who apparently will  burrow into
their living rooms in the middle of the night, with loads
of presents for them.

Neither I, nor my credit card, can handle another annual ‘wish list’.

So let’s keep Easter the way it is.

Overindulge in chocolate and alcohol after 40 days of abstinence!