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Friday, January 14, 2005

I think my enforced 24-hour detox is at an end. The 'Winter Vomiting Virus' (thanks Donna) seems to have disappeared just as quickly as it arrived, and according to this BBC article, it's "usually non-fatal" (nice use of the word 'usually').

My recovery was undoubtedly aided by this gift of grapes...

Grapes of Wrath

... from Paul, though I resisted the temptation to go for baby food too, as he helpfully suggested. I have seen a jar of Lemon Curd Pavlova (I don't care what anyone says, pavlovas shouldn't come in jars) in Lisa's Mum's kitchen cupboard (she claims it's for her grandson, not for herself), but so far I haven't had the courage to try it.

Whilst aiding my recovery by sitting in the bath drinking Pepto-Bismol this afternoon, I read extracts from a new book by Simon Hoggart in The Week magazine. Called 'The Cat That Could Open the Fridge', it's a collection of those oh-so-enjoyable family newsletters which people seem to insist on sending out with their cards at Christmas time, full of glad tidings about how well their kids are doing, and the countless exotic holidays they've taken that year.

My parents once received one from a couple who stated that due to financial hardship that year, they'd had to sell one of their yachts. But personally I prefer the ones written by proud parents about their perfect children. And you'd have to go a long way to beat this one...

"At a recent parent-teacher meeting I asked the teacher if there were any areas of weakness with Melanie that we should be working on, and her reply was 'No, you've given me a little diamond, and all I have to do is polish it.'"

No, stop throwing up, I think that's actually rather beautiful. And I'm sure all my teachers said similar things.