Food Envy

Had dinner at the fabulous L's.

Mrs L wore a superior kaftan arrangement. In winter. It's the hormones you know.

She made this superior lamb and chickpea dish, all whilst wearing a silk kaftan. Now that takes skill people.

I contributed this sad mulberry and lemon thing. I did grow the lemons and mulberries so I guess that's something.

Had P's birthday dinner at Rigatonis. 

Everyone's food was fabulous. Except mine. I had undercooked salty pasta; and my second case of food envy for the week.

P looked the business in this leopard print frock. 

Drinks at Benjamin of Franklin. 

Eclectic. 

I love it.

These are bowls and glasses suspended from the dining room ceiling. 

Tenuous and glorious. Won't be trying this at home.

Cold tomorrow. 

Have an important meeting and feeling fat and hormonal, only a black frock and a belt will do.

Busy

Apart from our little trip to Singapore, it's been busy around here.

The youngest had his first crack at Auskick. Apparently he won, the WHOLE game, on his own. 

He did not take these socks off for three days.

Number 3 started ballet. 

It makes a mother's heart sing I tell you.

Had a hearty coq au vin by the newly constructed fire pit. 

Went to the shack. 

Yorkes.

Greatest place on Earth.

Went to a dinner party at P's.

That girl can cook I tell you.

Held a tennis night. 

I am absolutely, totally shit. Yes, even after a bottle or two of champagne.

Were guests at a big, black tie do last night. 

Wore this el'cheapo Chanel inspired number I picked up in Hagi lane. 

Hides a multitude of sins.

Always remember - big sleeves balance a big arse.

In keeping with Chanel inspired numbers I'm going to try and pull this Jade Jagger ensem' together for lunch today.

Might whack some pearls on too.

It's 24C again today - crazy I tell you, crazy.

Have an absolutely brilliant Sunday.

Mothers Day

You may think me unworthy, given I hid the Easter eggs in a rose bush and all, but I was spoilt. 

Had high tea at the Fullerton Singapore. 

Sounds posh, but we were exploiting a junket. 

I won't lie. I made a pig of myself.

I don't want to sound ungrateful but I prefer Raffles, which was unsurprisingly booked out. 

I blame the husband - a piss poor planner.   

The Singaporeans know how to grow an orchid.

They grow like weeds.

Jealous.

My predictions of a cold winter were wrong.

It's unseasonably warm and I'm itching to hide my massive post-holiday arse behind some big winter coats. 

The patterned pants are getting a work out instead.