A grand day out

Posted on October 7, 2007 by Helena

Jonny When my husband asked me if I wanted to come to Marseille to see England versus Australia I thought two things. One, I’ll see Jonny Wilkinson in the flesh and two, it will be a fun day out, although we will lose.

I first became interested in rugby at university. I had a rugby-playing boyfriend called Otley. I once went with his family to watch him play. I stood on the edge of a frozen field trying to make intelligent conversation through chattering teeth. At one stage Otley’s rather austere Yorkshire born and bred father turned to me and said: “You know absolutely nothing about this game, don’t you?”

He had a point. Then my best friend started going out with Will Carling, just as he started to play for England. He became captain and we learnt (some of) the rules as we watched him, Rob Andrew and Jeremy Guscott with increased interest.

Yesterday though was my first live World Cup game. I didn’t really know what to expect. But what amazed me was how totally passionate I became as soon as I saw our boys on the field. I cannot speak today as I am hoarse from yelling and singing Sweet Chariot. Rupert says he has never known anyone get so enthusiastic about a game of rugby. I think what happened was that there was such passion and determination on the pitch that it rubbed off on me.

I loved every minute of it. Well, apart from the minutes I was thinking we would lose, because those minutes were pure torture. I don’t think I’ve been this stressed since my finals. In fact they were a doddle in comparison. I must have lost half a stone through anxiety. There are worse ways to lose weight.

The feeling of euphoria when we won was overwhelming. And although it was only a quarter final, it was better than when Jonny (and yes, he is EVEN more gorgeous in real life, sadly he failed to notice me despite my custom-made ‘Jonny you can tackle me anytime’ T-shirt) kicked the winning kick in the last World Cup final. There is nothing like being there.

Having said that, any voice I did have left was used to cheer on the French on TV when we got home. When they scored a try Rupert and I screamed so loudly Olivia came rushing downstairs and told us to “be quiet before you wake the whole village up”.

Well done France, a brilliant effort. I’m thrilled for them. But if my voice is back by Saturday I will of course be cheering for England, even if it’s only from my local bar.

Falling on Dutch ears

Posted on October 4, 2007 by Helena

Not amused “Keep it light-hearted,” the producer tells me. “We’ve got a big feature on breast cancer so this item needs to be funny.”

The subject of my discussion on Woman’s Hour today is a new book written by a Dutch woman called Dutch women don’t get depressed. By the end of it, I am. I try a whole host of jokes, like Dutch men being so jolly despite bossy, scruffy women due to high drug intake and French women refusing to wear clogs (rarely in fashion). They all fall on deaf (Dutch) ears. Not even a snigger. The woman has no sense of humour whatsoever.

To make matters worse I get back home to a seriously POISONOUS comment on my blog about my performance. I am apparently snide, xenophobic and smug. And that’s on a good day. “I suppose, however, its all that can be expected from a woman who writes books with such ridiculous titles like ‘Two Lipsticks and a Lover’,” writes the rather bitter Abigail. (Rather smugly I notice she can’t spell it’s).

But I am safe. As I lie down for an afternoon sleep with my ill daughter (I am also ill having been out until 2am which only happens about once a decade, why did it have to happen last night?) she comforts me. “Don’t worry about that silly woman mummy,” she says. “Just go to sleep and pretend like it didn’t happen. I’ll look after you And I’ve got Max and Wolfie on my team.” Abigail beware.

PS By popular demand, here is the ghastly comment, posted on the About Helena section and also emailed to me just in case I missed it:

Abigail Jones

I just listened to a program on Radio 4 Women’s Hour on which you made an appearance – a discussion of Ellen de Bruin’s book ‘Dutch Women Don’t Get Depresssed’ and its sentiment. It is, of course (as de Bruin readily admitted) another example of a ready habit that many people have to stereotype nationalities in a wildly uninformed manner. I can’t say I’m very interested in buying the book or discussing such silly stereotypes, but de Bruin seemed like a pleasant enough woman.
Despite the fact that we were listening a discussion on de Bruin’s book, however, it was your drawling sarcastic comments and performance that really stood out. And not, I assure you, in a positive way. You seem to have an unpleasant obsesion with perpetrating such mindless, crude stereotypes, and some of your responses verged on xenophobic. The one about how Dutch people were happy because they smoked drugs? Embarassing. As for your claim about how women are happier when they believe they look better? I can only judge from the ridiculously smug picture you posted of yourself on this page that you at least are wholly believing that you look ‘good’? Your snappy tone and silly jibes on Woman’s Hour, however, was not the behaviour of a happy woman.
I suppose, however, its all that can be expected from a woman who writes books with such ridiculous titles like ‘Two Lipsticks and a Lover’

Something missing….

Posted on October 3, 2007 by Helena

Bea is ill. She has a “baddie tummy” and I mean really bad. Poor little love has been writhing around in agony, her temperature soaring. But the most astounding effect of her illness has been on those around her.

Her best friend and soul-mate Manon spent all day at school weeping. When told by the others at school that there are other children to play with she responded; “There’s only Bea.” Leo spent most of his time by her bedside yesterday, watching her anxiously. Even Olivia, who is normally arguing with her, is upset. At dinner last night she threw down her knife and fork and announced that it just wasn’t any fun without Bea.

I agree it’s no fun. I miss her constant singing and chatting, her weird hairstyles and cool outfits for school. The doctor said she should be better within 48 hours. That was 24 hours ago, although it feels like a week.

Meanwhile a story from Italy about three feuding nuns caught my attention. Relations between the three remaining sisters of Santa Clara in Bari deteriorated so badly that one of them ended up hospital with scratches to her face. The Vatican wants to close the convent. Two of them have left but the third one, a Sister Liliana, refuses to abandon her home of 44 years. She has written to the Pope telling him she will only leave when God decides it is time for her to go. Negotiations are proving difficult as she is sticking to her vow of silence.

If only one of the nuns had fallen ill with a baddie tummy they might all still be friends.

Tomorrow I drive two hours for an eight-minute appearance on Radio Four’s Woman’s Hour. Is it worth it? I think so. I am on air with a woman who has written a book called Dutch women don’t get depressed. Apparently they’re happy because they don’t have much sex, wear dreadful clothes and are under no pressure to be good hostesses. ‘What about Dutch men?’ I want to ask the author. One can only assume they are suicidal.