Thursday Correspondence from the desks of your Favourite Epistolary Greats

Darls,

My phone cut out yesterday, ran out of juice. Oh well, you got the essential news! We pigged out massively at the sushi resto and again last night at our friend's bbq. I just wish I hadn't had a bacardi & coke before the red wine...

A bastarding mossie attacked me in the night and I'm trying to convince myself the bite on my cheekbone looks as sexy as a beauty spot....

Arrived late at work to find order forms from 2 new subscribers, which brings my June total to 8, a personal best. Oh the irony!!

I expect to spend all of August & September training young Seb C. (!!!) in my job, he's rather cute (but unbearded) and I wonder if he will scream "harrassment!" if my hand accidentally brushes his thigh every now and then.

Am pining for you dreadfully. Would you be able to receive me and one offspring graciously next week for 2 days, or in the second half of August? Let me know what suits you best. Obviously I will bring a suitcase full of dried strawberries. And I will make son practise his cooking!

Huge, proud besos,

Antipo xx

Darling, yes please come next week for 2 days. Or more. Or stay forever! My stinkin' boys will still have to be in school though which is a complete bugger.

I am completely wiped out today from my big swim yesterday. It was lovely though and obviously I didn't drown or get eaten by a monster fish or anything horrible like that so really, I declare it a complete success!

Bacardi and coke is a killer! There used to be some urban legend about the bubbles in the mixers giving you a hangover but I'm not sure how much stock I put in that. (Actually all of my stock which is why I only drink wine now.) (*is lying*)

I have two or three bastarding horse fly bites so I win.

Muchos besos my darling! Can't wait to see you soon!

S
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Yay for your gracious hostessness!

I am supposed to be looking after both my offspring next week, but will try and dump daughter at Mémée's, 'cos I don't want to bring her with me. She will only whinge and pout and flirt with your sons!! Why are Swiss kids still at school when everybody else in the entire universe is on summer hols?

Of course, you felt my vibes of concern about possible Loch Zurich monster attacks upon your person during your swim, didn't you ? I mean I didn't have to express my concerns verbally did I, because you are always tuned in to my thought waves and you could feel the worry and anxiety that consumed my every waking moment yesterday. Thank God you survived!

Will keep you posted as to dates & thread count requirements for my silk sheets.

Antipo

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My Cheatin' Heart

Dearest Ms. Mac,

As I am all busy and important making lots of money today (so that I can come and see you very soon), would you be so kind as to cut and paste all our recent emails into one startlingly witty and erudite blog post? I grant you full editorial discretion, naturally (although you know I will sneak in afterwards and correct your typos). Just remember that my writerly reputation and future career lie trembling in your gracious hands.

I know various readers are pining for news of our fabulous lives. However, I do have an ulterior motive.

I have been felled by a deep, deep crush on blogger and author Stan Cattermole and I am stalking him, Tweeting him and sending all kinds of abject, debasing fan letters in a desperate bid for a mere crumb of his attention.

So indulge me in my youthful phase of hero worship and cast your mind back to when YOU were the object of my ardour. Think how pleasant it would be for you to be the instrument in my future penfriendship with Stan. You will be so proud and honoured!

Muchos light-headed and sweaty-fingered besos,

Antipo
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Gawd, is it STILL Monday?

Dearest Ms. Mac,

I have neglected you horribly, but it's all your fault for tempting me onto Twitter. Blogging and e-mailing now seem so unbearably ponderous and, well like work really, whereas tweeting is so light and effortless. And fun!

My eldest offspring had a wonderful time with the top chef at our cooking class in Paris on Saturday.

We created some OMG Fabulous Food! I should open my own restaurant now, I really should.

We made Asian-style horses' doovers of prawns and vegetables rolled up in rice paper (AMAZING!) and fish and potato saffron soup with garlic, croutons and rouille (MINDBLOWING), finished with tiny glasses of "deconstructed" tiramisu made by flinging caramelised strawberries as the bottom layer, followed by coffee-soaked ladyfingers, the mascarpone, cream & sugar mixture piped out of a siphon (!!) on top of that, and then decorated with more caramelised strawbs and a little orange Cape gooseberry (which the French call Love in a Cage, awwwww). The Chef served a very oaky French Chardonnay with it, which was perfectly divine.

I reeked garlic all the way home.

The portions all looked so dainty and nouvelle cuisiney, but I was full for HOURS.

Oh sorry, have I made you hungry? I'd better not tell you what I'm making for offspring's birthday dinner tonight, in that case.

Love, and stuff,

Antipo

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Communiqué from Amsterdam

Our intrepid blogger Antipo reports from the road via sext on Tuesday:

Darls, haven't felt like sexting due to nightmarish journey. We left late, traffic jams all the way, my boss stinks of BO, am crammed in t'back with boxes of stuff and am surely developing cancer of the spine. "Dinner" was a quick sanga gobbled in 5 mins in a greasy spoon. ETA is 9:45pm, go straight to expo hall to set up booth and then hotel. Only consolation was watching the sun glint off the hairs on young Cristophe's muscular arms (phwooar!) as he drove manfully from Lille to Rotterdam, and the plethora of commercial vehicles bearing the names "Donk" or "Van Dong". These have put my naughtiness radar on red alert. Much jet-setting love and envy-inspiring kisses, Antipo. xxx

And via email today:

Cara raggazza di Milano,

Get ready to BURST with pride, because I tippled to the max last night with 4, yes FOUR glasses of really good red wine at apéritif hour and then with dinner! I know!!! The lovely Mr Mac would surely be removed to remark that I am now indeed drinking like a grown up.

Amsterdam is lovely lovely lovely and we really must put it on our "To Do In a Heart Shaped Frame" list. The working ladies we saw last night in the in the windows of the Red Light district were young and extremely beautiful, contrary to the old shrivelled hags people usually claim to see. I feel rather tempted to join them, being so young and bouncy myself.

Slept okayish in the crap hotel, but with medicinal aid and am hoping for a quiet day again on the booth, having decided that being bored is actually preferable to talking about industrial catalytic extraction processes with people I don't know, don't care about and will never have to see again.

So while you have been busy being all Italian, I have been suffering quietly. The champagne we will open this afternoon may go some way to alleviate my distress. Also, for the first time ever at an expo, the fridge we have hired actually works properly and makes thing really cold. I love modern technology.

Missing you horribly and I really think you should sell up soon and move to My Quaint Village to be my paid companion, lady's maid and minder. You owe it to yourself to find some happiness and a more meaningful path in life. I'm only thinking of what's best for you.

Busy and Important love and quisses (or 'baci', as I think you would prefer me to say),

Antipo
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HIPPY BATHDAY DEAREST DARLS!

Dearest, Loveliest Ms. Mac in the Whole Wide World,

I have just about managed to overcome my jealousy at the thought of you escorting two (and I quote) "lovely, gorgeous Australians" around the Village of the Damned this week (hmmph! I thought "lovely, gorgeous Australians" was a contradiction in terms anyway).

And I graciously decided that I will unbend from today's frosty silence just long enough to post you these special flowers



from my very own garden, picked for you at great expense.

How will you be celebrating the special anniversary of your Twenty-First Burpday? Will the lovely Mr. Mac be doing all the cooking and opening bottles of wine? I so wish I could be there to share in the fun and dancing. And to give those "lovely, gorgeous Australians" a lesson in How To Party.

So, you are honoured to accept my fondest, most special birthday wishes to you, my first and only soulie, whose graven image shares a silver, heart-shaped frame with my own fair features.

I wish you much happiness (if you can possibly manage to have any fun at all without my sparkling presence) and many bottles of Veuve Cocquelicot to moisten the proceedings.

Fantastic love and PartyTime kisses,

Antipo
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The Emperor's New Clothes

Dearest Ms. Mac,

Life is somewhat trying today… I rushed home after a stressful day at work to hear all about Crotchfuit No.1’s trial afternoon at the elegant cooking school where he hopes to be come a world famous French chef. He enjoyed his half-day mini-apprenticeship there, and Mr Grumpy Blackheart says the school seems very good. About 30 children were involved. When the parents left, the children were given aprons and taken to the kitchens where they made cookies and flambéed pears!

But, when I found out that:

(1) my son wore the crappy old sweatshirt I had expressly forbidden OVER the smart new white shirt and black trousers (which cost me 30 euros) all the children were required to wear, and

(2) that Mr Grumpy Blackheart didn’t bother to tell him to take the sweatshirt off when they arrived, I exploded in a fireball of menstrual, migraineous rage and gave them both a severe bollocking.

My display of maturity then segued seamlessly into a dramatic throwing of self onto the bed and sobbing until I lost my voice (no doubt to the relief of the whole family). The hormone replacement tablets are obviously lacking a certain vital ingredient…

I went to SO MUCH TROUBLE to enrol him on the course ten days ago. Firstly I had to fill in eleventy billions forms, attach photos, prove my son's identity and blood group, and make seventy thousand photocopies of it all before getting the dossier stamped by his current school. Next step was to anxiously retrieve his dossier from another child, because the collège mistakenly gave it to another boy by the name of Crotchfroot (I’m not making this up). Then, because of their error, I had to sprint to the Post Office in the hot sun to meet the 12 noon deadline for express post two days before the mini-apprenticeship.

Thereafter followed an expensive trip to the Smart Clothes Shop to get the correct apparel. I spend a jolly afternoon washing and ironing the lovely new clothes. Yesterday morning I expended much energy in specifically refusing his request to wear the crappy old sweatshirt (“It’s 25 degrees and humid today darling, you won’t need a sweater at all”).

I went to SO MUCH TROUBLE to ensure he would get the best chance at making a good impression. I could have killed somebody last night. I punished, punished, and punished him; no computer (even for looking up sports results), no football jersey and no TV for three days. I even told him he would have to wear the smart white shirt to school today (I know he won’t do it). I told him if he can’t obey his mother he will never succeed at school and he will end up as a lowly paid rubbish man. I hated him, I hated his father (I KNEW I should have taken the boy myself, but could not get off work), and most of all I hate myself.

Crotchfruit no.2, the female one, was crying all night because we are supposed to have her birthday treat shopping trip to Paris with her best friends Cécile and Liliane in two days time. However, Cécile was rushed to hospital last night with viral meningitis and is undergoing a spinal tap today. I have texted her mother to send love and kisses, and am anxiously awaiting news.

Am I a callous bitch? But my first thought was “Is it contagious?”

My second thought: “Should I postpone the birthday outing until Cécile is better? Of course I should!"

But there are no other free Saturdays until mid-June…and my son’s burpday is also coming up. Should I take daughter and Liliane to Paris on Saturday as planned, then do something else with Cécile when she’s recovered? My brain is melting into a viscous pile of wobby, undercooked scrambled egg.

I do hope you are having a good day for me to vicariously “enjoy”.
Keep me posted.

Red-eyed love and hoarse-voiced kisses served up from a bottomless pit of self-loathing,

Antipo
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Some Excitement On The Horizon!

Dearest Ms. Mac,

I am working today so I can have Froiday off and take Crotchfruit Number 1 to Amsterdam for the weekend. He's getting really excited about sleeping in a houseboat for two nights! The highlight for me will not be the tulips, the Dutch beer, nor the houseboat, but meeting that that Ropey Old Bird and Jorge AND Naughty Michael in the absolute flesh for the very first time.

It brings back fond memories of our first meeting, at our world-famous Dijon picnic. Our 4th Macaversary is coming up soon, according to my diary. Cor, we have beaten many of those Hollywood couples for longevity, haven't we?

Muchos besos,
Antipo

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Easter Blunday

Dearest Ms. Mac,

I promise I'm not ignorming you (that's my new word), but I have spent Easter weekend chained to my 'puter doing an emergency translation of our monthly report, as our poor old regular translator was shipped off to hospital at the worst possible time of the month.

I took time off to do my crotch fruits' Easter Egg hunt yesterday and cooked a fab meal for lunch (chicken tagine with prunes and almonds and couscous - fucking amaaaazing!). Today we delivered the chillun to Mémée and Pépé's and had another fab meal with LOTS of champagne and red wine. Am now translating quite drunkenly, the resluts (my second new word) should be amusing, to say the least.

My Friday off this week will be SOOO relaxing! Hairdresser will beautify me at 9 am, and I've threatened Mr Grumpy Blackheart that if he doesn't take me out somewhere afterwards, his life won't be worth living!

So, back to the price of soft commodities (perilously low, you will be concerned to hear).

Muchos slavish besos,
Antipo

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