Premiere Premiere

Off to Paris for Ed's first film premiere. SCREAM!!!!

Grand Budapest Hotel

We can barely contain our excitement! The poster for Wes Anderson's new film (featuring Ed Munro as Boy With Apple) has been released at last. A delicious cocktail of sugar and sinister it is the most tantalising thing I have ever seen. 

Brian! Cancel all plans this weekend... Never mind the silly football, we have DIY to do. I want the whole of the front of the house painted... well pink, obvs.

Official trailer coming out any minute!

Wet Weekend

Hey! It's May bank holiday weekend... and you know what that means!! Time to jetwash the patio!!

"JOE!! Put that bloody thing down."

Teenage Tea Ceremony

What's happened here?...
What creature coud have been so desperate for a cup of tea that they would tear open a carton with such frenzy?
A dog? I doubt it.
Could we have a rat in the house, the size of a cat?
Or could it be a young adult that has gone through life having absolutely everything done for them and had therefore, never encountered an unopened box of tea bags?
Perhaps it's the same individual that attempted to make cheese on toast in the toaster. 

Brian's a Raving Lunatic

ME. What do you mean you’re having a rave? Not here you’re not.

JOE. Chill, we’re hiring a room above a pub in Hackney.

ME. No you’re not.

JOE. We are, it’s all sorted. We’ve been to see the bloke and it’s all arranged.

ED. What, you some sort of nightclub don now?

JOE. Shut up Ed. We’re selling tickets and 140 people on Facebook have already said they’re coming.

ME. Oh my God Joe, what if someone gets stabbed? What if a fire starts? Didn’t you hear about that dreadful thing in Brazil. What if a load of horrible kids show up and cause trouble? What if…

ED. What if a massive fight starts and all the chandeliers get smashed?

JOE. There’s no chandeliers in there, idiot. There’s nothing in there. It’s just and empty room.

ME. There’s windows though. Someone might fall through a window.

JOE. They won’t.

ME. How do you know they wont?

BRIAN. Exactly. You’ll be responsible if anything bad happens.

JOE. It won’t.

ME. You’ll have to get insurance, security, some kind of license…

JOE. No we won’t.

ED. How much you selling tickets for?

JOE. Four quid.

ED. Who’s gunna pay four quid to go and stand in an empty room?

JOE. Shut up Ed. Me and Joe Parks are gunna be DJ ing.

ED. Hahahhahaha

BRIAN. No Joe. It’s a mad idea. We’re happy for you to go to these raves..

ME. Well, not exactly “happy”…

BRIAN. Well, I think it’s okay to go along to something that’s been properly organized by sensible adults but I’m not agreeing to you, a seventeen year-old, being responsible for the whole thing. It’s ridiculous. Forget it. No Joe, I mean it.

BRIAN. Is this blue the right colour then?

JOE. Yeah, that’s cool. Then just put the writing down the side… yeah like that. That looks good.

ED. Let me see. ‘Wavey Nights presents, GET WAVEY’. Hahaha. ‘GET WAVEY!’ What’s that supposed to mean.

JOE. Shut up Ed, it doesn’t mean anything. It just sounds good.

ED. It sounds stupid. I hope you’re gunna give mummy some money for all the ink and paper.

JOE. Shut up Ed.

BRIAN. Right. Shall I put the address at the bottom then? And the price in the corner?

JOE. Yeah. Then can you print them and cut them out. I’m going bed. Mummy, find a box or something for me to put all the tickets in please. I’m gunna take them to college tomorrow. Night.

BRIAN. How was school?

JOE. COLLEGE. I’m gunna punch you if you say school one more time. It was good: sold thirty tickets.

BRIAN. Well done. Let me know if you want me to print any more.

JOE. Cool. Mummy, make me a snack please: I need to answer all these emails from people wanting tickets.

Halloween Swag

'Joe! Joe! Where are you going?'
'Halloween.'
'Yes, I know it's Halloween. Are you going trick or treating?'
Scoffs
'Where are you going then?'
'There's a bonfire party.'
'Where did you get those clothes?'
'What clothes?'
'Those clothes you're wearing.'
'Found them.'
'Found them where?'
'Upstairs.'
'Where did you find the white shirt?'
'John's wardrobe.'
'The tie?'
'Daddy's tie box.'
'That's the Christian Dior one isn't it?'
Checks label. 'Yep.'
'The suit?'
'Daddy's wardrobe. It's Alexander McQueen.'
'The glasses?'
'Ed's drawer.'
'The coat?'
Twirls. 'Your room. It was in some tissue paper. Like it?'


                      

Lost Youth

I no longer share the house with three teenagers: John turned twenty today.
At this point a cute picture of him blowing the candle out on his first birthday cake or some such thing would have been appropriate but that was before the days of digital photography and Brian CBA to go up into the attic and dust off the old albums - not with getting the telly warmed up for the footy so I'll just have a quick look in iPhoto and see if there's a more recent one of him...........

Oh. I'm sure I remember there being one or two of John on here somewhere. Oops. 
1,347 photos of - let me see - Lotus, Ed, Capri, Enzo, some hydrangeas, an unknown dog, the sky, the old Volvo, some ducks, a wall, three nuns, the Palace Theatre, a ginger cat, a bull, sweet peas, Nelson's Column, the BT Tower...

James Bondage

My old friend James did a shoot here yesterday. He always photographs something…umm…interesting and I wasn’t surprised when two beautiful girls stepped out of his Hummer followed by a couple of stylists dragging Ikea bags full of stilettoes and some unrecognisable scraps of coloured neoprene.

While I made coffee, the stylists unpacked, the models went into hair and make-up and James took a load of pictures of the new dog.

“Latex” said James.

“Lotus” I replied.

“No, Latex. I’m shooting a load of Latex underwear today”

“Nice. What are all the aerosols for? I asked, glancing at an arsenal of canisters lined up on the mantelpiece.

“Lubrication. Makes it easier to slip the bits and pieces on and off. They don’t use talcum powder any more. They use this silicon spray stuff. Apparently it goes everywhere (smiles) but worry ye not, we’ll do all the spraying by the back door.”

“Fine. I’ll leave you to it. Give us a shout if you need anything.”

Brian and I stayed in the basement office most of the day until Joe came home from school and then we headed off to pick up Ed and take him to the theatre.

“Joe, stay down here with the dogs until James and that lot upstairs have gone. Understand? You stay down here. When you hear them leave, go up, let the dogs out into the garden and then check that they haven’t left any food around that they might eat. Got it?”

Brian, Ed and I got back at about 8.30. As we opened the front door a small fat dog came hurtling towards us, spinning across the hall floor like an ice puck. Frantic scratching noises came from the front room: two bewildered whippets were doing impressions of Bambi when he tries to walk on the frozen lake.

“Look, it’s sick!” cries Joe, gliding past in his socks.

Venice in Peril

Awww… Baby Joey turned 17 at the weekend. Sweetheart. Here he is age 7 at Versailles wearing his very favourite coat ever. He’s always loved that Parka and even continued to wear it after the fluffy trim all melted in the “Burning Halo of Fur” incident in Santa Maria della Salute in Venice. A cruise ship full of catholics had just visited the cathedral and lit a host of votive candles: a roaring furnace of flickering flames with only one empty space left right in the middle for Joe to reach in and position his little 50 cent offering...

As you can see from this photo of Joe and Phoebe trying on Parkas yesterday - he was only mentally scarred.

John Goes Glamping

As the nights draw in and Holly packs her thermals and hot water bottle and trudges back to Leeds for the long winter term, John cheers her up by posting this on Facebook today...

...his accommodation in Portugal for the next five weeks while he assists Graham Atkins-Hughes on a photo shoot. You can probably imagine her comment.

Friday

Well,
Ed spent ages in the bathroom so we were late of course and the bloke wasn't very happy but if you live in Bromley what do you expect. I don't know why they can't use a photographer in London. Anyway the pictures looked okay but they didn't even use the shirts I ironed this morning after all that trouble with the bloody ironing board. Have you seen this bruise on my hand? Then Ed was hungry so we went to a drive thru McDonald's on the way home but we didn't do drive thru coz I need the loo and then we got trapped in the car park by some white van man which meant we were late picking the dog up for her vaccines. Ed! put that puppy on the newspaper, she must be desperate. Anyway, I could have done without the 45 minute lecture off the vet about dog training... ENZO DROP. DROP. DROP. So then we had to head straight to the theatre which was fine because Ed wanted to show Lotus to Will anyway but the whole cast wanted to have a go and you know how small it is in that stage door area and one of the dancers has a dog phobia. Honestly. Then I was going to come home but it seemed a bit pointless as I'd have to leave again straightaway and Joe texted to say Phoebe's back from Turkey and coming to dinner so thought I'd better get some food in but I had the dog with me so went and sat in the car and had a think. I tried to wrap her up and put her in my bag but the bag's a bit small and she was fast asleep - I think her injections had completely knocked her out and anyway her head was sticking out so there's no way they would have let me in M & S so I went to Rokit and got this old airline carry-on bag. At the counter I pulled her out of the small bag and put her in the new one, quite a few people were stood around watching and the dog looked kind of dead which was embarrassing. Anyway it was fine, she was really cozy in the new bag with her blanket. I got some dinner in M & S  except there was a special offer on - a three for two thing but when I paid at those stupid DIY tills the offer didn't come up so I had to go and see someone by which time she was waking up and squeaking. Then I ran back to the theatre with the dog and the shopping and picked Ed up.
How's things been here?
"John and I could't do much really, what with the Ann Summers shoot going on all day, so we've been checking the computer to see what Arsenal's been up to: it's the last day of the transfer window you see and...." 

Lotus

I'm pretty sure there isn't a make of car called a Thumbelina so Thumbelina was rebranded Lotus to fall in line with Capri and Enzo. 
Then she had tea with Baby...

Read up on Bonsai care...

And practised being a statue...

School Holidays Day 53

Friday Evening 5pm

Ed: I'm SOO bored.
Me: Well do something.
Ed: There's nothing to do. I'm SO bored. I've been in all day.
Me: Watch a movie.
Ed: Didn't you hear me - I've been IN ALL DAY.
Me: Ed, I've got to work. I need to get these invoices done.
Ed: But I'm really bored. I want a Bonsai tree.
Me: Really? They always die.
Ed: That one you threw in the bin wasn't dead. All it's leaves fell off coz it was autumn.
Me: Fine, we'll go up to those garden centres at Crews Hill tomorrow. They have a Bonsai specialist shop up there with goldfish and everything: it'll be a nice day out, now let me get on.
Ed: But I want a Bonsai tree now.
Me: The shops will be shut now Ed, it's gone five. 
Ed: This one says it's open 'till seven on the website.
Me: What one?
Ed: This one, this one in Notting Hill.
Me: Oh, that won't stay open that late tonight, not with the Carnival this weekend.
Ed: Ring them.
Me: Okay, they're open 'till seven... 
Ed: Lets go. PLEASE, I'll pay for it.
Me: Ed, it's raining and it's rush hour and I haven't made dinner... okay then, write down the postcode.

"You have reached your destination on the right"

Ed: There it is, quick park, it's 6.50, we've only got ten minutes.
Me: I'll have to park round the corner, it's all suspended here for Carnival.
Ed: What's that sat outside the shop?
Me: A cat.
Ed: It's a dog.
Me. Whatever. Quick, choose a Bonsai then. That one's nice.
Ed: That dog's cute. Look that guy out the back's holding a puppy.
Me: Let's get this one: it has little flowers on. Get your card out.
Ed: Wait, let me see that puppy.
Guy in Flower Shop: This is Margot's puppy. Do you want to hold her?
Me: How many puppies did she have? Put your credit card in the machine Ed, they want to go home.
Guy in Flower Shop: Seven. We're keeping this one, my sister has one, all the others have gone to our friends, there's just one little girl left downstairs, Thumbelina...

The following morning...

Hackney Weekend

"You definitely, definitely want to go then? You wouldn't rather go into town and choose your birthday present? It said on the radio here were going to be 100,000 people there and five hour queues and 'airport style' security and you saw Jay Z at that ghastly Wireless thing that time... and Rihanna. I don't mind taking you if you really want to go but..."
"In the car."
"There's no parking there Ed. All the roads will be closed. It says to take the bus... or walk." 
"Daddy can drop us off. Then you can get the bus back straight away. Hurry up, the others are already there."
"Jeez! What time did they get up then? Anyway, I'm nowhere near ready." 
"You don't need to put make-up on. You're only getting me through the gates then you can go. No one's going to see you. I don't know why you're wearing those Wellingtons -there won't be time to get them muddy. You're not stopping. And you don't need an umbrella. You're only going to be there five minutes. Then you're LEAVING. It's stupid that fourteen-year-olds have to be with an adult. We're not babies."
"You're thirteen. Ready?...."
.
.
.
"There's no way I'll be able to stay in this queue. It goes on for miles. I can't see the end of it. I need a wee already." 
"Shush."
"And I'm thirsty. And hungry."
"Be quiet."
"As soon as we get in there we're looking for the ladies." 
"No we're not. We're looking for my friends. Then you can go home to use the toilet."
.
.
.
"Bye then."
"Bye. Sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine. Bye... Actually, Mummy, can you go and get me one of those T shirts with the line-up on the back? I'll wait here."
"Okay."
"Hang on. Can you get me a wrist band as well? A purple one. Please."
"Right."
.
.
.
"Where have you been?"
"Traipsing round this place for hours. I bumped into quite a few people I know. Here you are."
"Bye then."
"Text me later."
"Wait! We need drinks but we can't get them coz we'll lose our place. Coke please."
"I'll get you some water as well. See you in a bit."
.
.
.


"Here take these."
"I thought you'd left. You've been ages."
"I had a row with them. I asked for three waters and three cokes and they said they had to take the lids off all of them. F*** knows why. I've spilt half of it on the way back. Can I go home now please."
"After you've given me some money."

Take a Bow Son

It's the equivalent to 3 Michelin Stars in the Spray Painting world, The Turner Prize amongst taggers, the Golden Globe of the Graffitarati, The Nobel Prize for Pieces: Joe has got a picture of his 'art' onto the prestigious LDN GRAFFITI Website. 

Welcome Home John

From Koh Rong, Cambodia to..

 Clissold Park, Stoke Newington.

And back again, if he's got any sense.

High Spirits

I know how she feels...

Spent all day yesterday tormenting myself with images of John laying unconscious on a beach at Koh Phangan after the Full Moon Party...

Here's him and Buster in their Party T shirts - they don't see a problem with drinking a bucket load of mixed spirits diluted with the local Red Bull.

No Joe, you're not going there next year.

West End Wonder

Spent all morning doing a sweep of local newsagents...

There's Ed - centre stage.

and spending all afternoon having a jolly good read...

Prom Night

Joe and Phoebe on Prom Night...

Jacket - Alexander McQueen, courtesy of Brian.
Shirt - from the Marks and Spencer School Uniform Line.
Tie - John's.
Shades - 'found'
Giant inflatable 'O' - model's own.

Thank God it's the Weekend

Booking and paying for 2 seats and 2 pieces of luggage on AirAsia Flight FD3617 Phnom Penh - Surarnabhumii (Bangkok) and communicating all relevant details to John via Facebook.  
2 hrs 10 minutes.
Searching internet for flights to Milan and back to London via Trieste and sharing findings with various other third parties via email.
1hr 15 minutes.
Series of lengthy, complex emails to Joe's potential college in an attempt to reschedule his essential music theory course which he is missing due to him to going to Italy for a month to recuperate from massive strain of GCSEs.
50 minutes.
Baking scones, chatting to stylists and admiring roomfuls of Tesco's 2012 Christmas baubles, trees and tinsel being shot here this weekend.
1hr 45 minutes.  
Studying spreadsheet schedule for Singin' in the Rain while simultaneously synchronising Ed's performances to friends and families availability.
Ongoing.
Arranging with non English speaking FedEx employee the collection from here and delivery to lengthy, unpronounceable address in Chiangmai, Thailand of John's replacement bank card that he lost at a beach party. 
45 minutes.
Trying to to activate John's new card and access pin when he's given me the wrong ****ing password for his account.
Endless.
Dying Ed's old, red suede Nikes black without getting any dye on the white tick, while Ed is watching. 
2 hours and my eyesight.
Driving Ed to Waterloo to meet up with friends for sleepover in Surrey.
1hr 10 minutes.
Tracking down 4ft x 6ft mattress for Ed's new 'compact' bedroom when all mattresses know to man are 6ft 2.
Waiting for the opportunity to be able to go to the cinema, a restaurant, a bar or an exhibition without organising childcare.
19 years 7 months.
Summoning up the energy for a night out.
Impossible.