A big thank you yesterday to all at the Pearson Foundation Challenge and Jumpstart’s Read for the Record campaign. I sat and signed. And signed. And signed. It was like a fairytale, the line that never ended. Every time you thought you were coming to an end, more people would appear. But a wonderful day, and so wonderful to meet so many great people. Thank you to Jennifer, to Carol, and most especially, to Frank the Book Shuffler.

I will be resting my arm today.

I have a new secret addiction I have to share with you…Swingtown. I haven’t seen it since the beginning, but the last few weeks I’ve been watching and I love it. Maybe that’s because I live in a town in which key parties seemed to be all the rage a few decades ago. I’ve heard people say they still go on today but I’ve certainly never been invited to one. Up until a couple of years ago, I didn’t believe it for a second, was convinced it was just an urban myth.

Bring me names, I said to people. I refuse to believe until I have names, and not just a friend of a friend, but you. And then someone told me she’d been to a party, thrown by a girl I think of as The Knickerless Wonder. I call her this because rumor has it a few years ago she wore no underpants (knickers, as we say in England) to a party, got very drunk, and spent the evening flashing the various husbands at the party, causing, as you can imagine, enough gossip to last a good year.

My friend went to a party at The Knickerless Wonder’s house. There were many drinks. Vodka shots, if I recall correctly. Then it was down to the basement for the ‘party games’. My friend saw the beginnings of the swapping, got cold feet, and ran.

I don’t blame her. But now I believe, and I’m happy to live vicariously via my television set, thank you very much.

And thank you for all the suggestions to help out my, clearly lacking, interior design skills. Particularly to Adiam, who made me laugh with this email: I don’t think you should stop at the family room in decorating. I think the kids rooms could use a bit of gopher skin - dyed of course to match the rest of the room’s decor. The kitchen could also benefit from a bit of deer skin above the stove. Some white-tailed deer can add a subtle change to the foyer. I can see the Architectural Digest spread.

I know I’m a sucker for punishment, but here’s our bedroom.

REPEAT. THIS IS MY BEDROOM. NOT SARAH PALIN’S…

Any suggestions? A stuffed beaver head above the bed, perhaps? A squirrel lampshade? Braided chipmunk pillows?

In truth, if this were my own house, rather than a rental, I would have different paintings on the wall (those are mine, but too small for the space), and I would have a different bedside table - we had just moved in and Beloved had nothing - I found that pretty tray table in one of the antiques emporiums in Stamford, but there should be a more solid chest of drawers there.

We do decorate quite differently in England. My fashionista friend would be proud, for we don’t do ‘matchy matchy’, instead mish-mashing all different styles together, bound with books, and art, and things we have collected over the years.

England is the only place you can mix chintz with chinoiserie, and leopard-print, and have it look wonderful.

Or hideous. Depending on your point of view…

 

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