This season's Must-Have accessory

The blissful, extended Bank Holiday weekend is stretching on forever here in sun-baked Britain, and in our house we're slowly getting buried in drifts of newspaper featuring a photographic record of just about every imaginable aspect of Friday's Royal Wedding. Usually I don't have time to do more than scan the headlines and snatch a wistful glance at the Travel section of the weekend papers, but with The Book off my desk (for the time being at least) and nothing more pressing to do than laze around in the sun I seem to have inadvertently become a bit of an expert on the whole occasion. If you want to know what Wills really whispered to Kate's father when they arrived at the altar, or the history of the blue Aston Martin in which they left the reception, I'm probably your woman.

I now feel pretty well qualified to give my own little fashion round-up of the event, and have concluded that while hats (apparently fixed with a drawing pin to the centre of the forehead) may be enjoying a bit of a moment, the thing to be seen in this year is cheap, easily available outside of Bond Street, and transforms any outfit. It is, ladies, The Smile. Let's see who was in on fashion's hottest secret...

And who wasn't...

.

Oh dear. Who's going to break it to Mrs B that the bored, pouty look is so last year?

Tomorrow it's finally back to school and normality. This will be a bit of a shock, since today everyone here was still in bed at the time when daughter #3 would usually be having morning playtime, but, in the light of my research, am planning to finish off my usual school-run look (consisting of whatever's been left draped over the end of the bed in the last few days and wild-woman hair) with a dazzling smile, a la Middleton ladies. Potential to look slightly deranged is definitely there, but am going to give it a go. It's been that kind of week.

This calls for a celebration

So, revisions are in (thank goodness for easter chocolate) the bunting is up and the children have been put to work making Union Jack paperchains. Royal Wedding excitement is mounting here by the second.


Call me shallow, but I'm so not interested in the political arguments about elitism and shameless extravagance. It's the wanton romance and emotion of the whole event that I'm excited about. And the outfits... and the excuse to drink champagne in the morning and eat cake all day*. In fact, it's a bit like being at your own wedding without the crushing feeling that you should have started dieting sooner.

So, are you in the mood to celebrate too or are you just going to take advantage of the day off and the fact that she shops will be empty and avoid it all?

(*I'm also a surprisingly excited about the opportunity to gawp at Harry all day. Am I the only one who's finding him oddly inspiring at the moment, in all sorts of ways?)

Getting Away With It

Thanks to everyone who emailed for my spare copy of Julie Cohen's wonderful book. The winner is Catherine J, so as soon as I can bear to tear myself away from revisions and get down to the post office it'll be on its way to her. (That'll be this afternoon then.)

Actually, following a long phonecall with my editor yesterday, I'm feeling much more positive about the revisions and the book in general. It's been a very different experience writing this one as it's the second book in a two-part continuity, featuring the same hero and heroine, so the usual challenges of building a story have been complicated a little by the need to link the books, but make each one stand alone. I loved doing it, but writing the end of the second book has been really difficult. Probably twice as difficult as normal in fact, as it had to provide a sense of resolution to two stories. It's requiring an awful lot of Toblerone - so much, in fact that I even felt I needed to mention it in the book. Hope it gets past the copy-editor.

Better get on with it. (The book, not the Toblerone.)

(Although...)

Crisis Management

So, in the interests of promoting healthy living (always a priority of mine, see the 'Snacks' section for proof) I thought I'd better follow up my last post with some slightly more wholesome coping strategies for times of crisis. Even I have to admit that there's only so much cake, chocolate and Bakewell tart you can use to get you through tough times before it leads to a whole new set of problems, like not being able to go out in public as none of your clothes fit anymore. So, I've been busily trialling some calorie-free alternatives. That don't involve wine either.

I know the lovely (and now envy-makingly svelte) Michelle Styles would say that exercise is the way to go to boost endorphins and clear your mind. She's right, of course, but I've shamefully let my morning run slide this year as I really did find the half-hour recovery period spent gossiping with my running partner afterwards it cut into my working day too much. I guess we could re-schedule it for the evening, but by then my energy-levels have hit the floor and the only running I want to do is a hot bath.

Which brings me neatly onto my rigorously road-tested, calorie-free stress-relief method of choice: reading in the bath.

I do love my kindle, but its one huge downfalls is that it can't really be used in water (as my husband, chief screen-police officer in our house, regularly reminds me) which means I'm still buying paperbacks like a woman with a problem. Reading in the bath has been the thing that got me through the Deadline Weeks (and is my best hope for surviving the subsequent Revisiongate) and going straight to the top of my Book of the Year list is Julie Cohen's Getting Away With It.

Although perfect for bathtime escapism, it's the kind of book you have to keep near you at all times so you can top up your fix at regular intervals during the day, when reality gets a bit much. The thing is, it's so perfectly written that it actually feels like it could be reality, and given that I am about as far removed from the kick-boxing, smart-talking, independent twin heroine as it's probably possible to be, that is quite a feat of clever writing. I identified with Liza all the way. I understood her dilemma perfectly. And I bloody loved her man.

I ordered a copy of the book from Amazon on the day it came out, but before it arrived I spotted it in the book aisle of our brand-new, Wembley Stadium-sized Sainsburys. I'm such an instant-gratification girl I couldn't quite stop myself from slipping it into my basket, which means that I now find myself with a spare copy in need of a good home. So, if you feel a bit like you're swimming against the tide at the moment for whatever reason, and could do with escaping into a fabulous story, drop me a line via the website and leave your address. I'll pick a name out over the weekend.

It's funny too, did I mention that? You know when books are described in the back blurb as being 'laugh-out-loud funny' and you don't laugh once and feel a bit cheated? Well, this one isn't doesn't say that on the back, but I still did A LOT of inelegant snorting. I suppose that would make it a dangerous book to read on the bus, but still more perfect for solitary bathtime devouring. I'd better slip something fragrant and bath-y in with it, so you don't forget.

What's everyone else been reading and loving lately? In the bath or elsewhere...

Three reasons why today is not the day to start that diet...

1. The chocolates and cake that were part of the fabulous haul of goodies the daughters bought me for Mothers Day. (sniff.)

2. The remains of the most outrageously delicious and calorific Bakewell tart in the history of baking, made by my own lovely mother and given to us to bring home after lunch at her house yesterday.

3. The monster revisions I received on my latest ms late on Friday afternoon.

'Nuff said?

Conspiracy

With exactly one week to go until Deadline Day, I'd really like to be totally immersed in the book and only emerging into real life occasionally, reluctantly and for as short a time as possible. However, since last Tuesday when Daughter #3 started throwing up, right through the weekend when Mr G absented himself from domestic duty and went to Edinburgh for a weekend of rugby, beer and debauchery with my brothers, to the middle of last night when Daughters 2 and 3 started with the Virulent Vomiting Virus, events have been conspiring against me somewhat.

My head is still there. Just need to find time for my fingers to keep up.

Days Like These

How inconsiderate of daughter #2 to be born on the same day, 13 years ago, as the RNA Pure Passion Awards. This evening, instead of putting on high heels and teetering along to Whitehall Place to drink champagne and hold Abby Green's hand as she waits for the winner of Love Story of the Year to be announced, I will be lighting birthday candles and retreating to a safe distance from the shrieking of teenage girls (possibly with a bottle of Prosecco.)

Before that, when I would have been catching the train down to London (if daughter#2 had made her appearance on the right day 13 years ago) I am going to be sitting in the doctors (for probably about the same amount of time as it would take to get to London) waiting for a Tetanus injection, after Muffin the rabbit took a chunk out of my finger on Saturday.

*sniffs bravely and assumes a pious expression* A lesser person would probably be very bitter.