Swings & Roundabouts

Babbling brooks in plentiful supply

Things have been quiet around here in the past few days, haven’t they? In case you were thinking of sending out a search party for me, fear not, as I have returned! I had simply been on holiday.

The Good Friday – Easter Monday is a long weekend in England and making full use of this, I had decamped to the Lake District with the family. For four days, I had my fill of green dales, red fells, babbling brooks, serene lakes, hundreds of sheep, cows, a few donkeys and other assorted tranquil images. Four days sans phones (we stayed in the sticks, where cellular connection was unheard of), ipod Touch, laptop, television and any other gadgets you can think of. I thought the boy will go nuts. But thankfully, having his bum chum around helped to keep him out of mischief. Well, that particular brand associated with gadgets and gizmos anyway.

We walked loads, trekked through the most difficult terrain and shivered in our summer clothing. While cunningly roasting us in the South-East and tricking us into packing skirts and linens, the sun shied away from us up North and I spent most of the time with my teeth clenched, so as to not scare the sheep away with my chattering teeth.

But despite that, much fun was had. We tried to steer clear of the tourist infestation and stuck to the tracks that are off-beaten. Then tried to impregnate the unpolluted air with the smell of thayir sadam and lemon pickle.Well, you can take the girl out of Madras…..

Anyways, I am back and regular transmission can now commence. My loyal four readers can now let out their collective breaths that they have been holding and can go back to their day jobs. Thank you, kindly!

As I have been married for 10 years now *ahem* I feel qualified enough to dish advice. Plus, weighing in my favour is the fact that I read Agony Aunt columns – a lot. It all started off as innocent timepass but now, I am quite addicted to them. Apart from making you feel better for not having the problems those disturbed souls are, reading the advice dished out makes me feel like I have imbibed a bit of the Agony Aunt’s soul by osmosis too.

Last week, there was a woman in a boat quite similar to mine. For her tenth anniversary, she burned lots of gray cells and saved up for three months to get an Uber Gift for hubby. He got her a gift card for a very non-fantastic sum. She was bummed enough to write to this Agony Aunt and crib. All I can say is, she is lucky to have got what she did. I got a bunjee jumping gift experience voucher. Yes, to commemorate a decade of being shackled to me, my husband decided tying an elastic rope around my ankles and me voluntarily jumping from a 160m platform is the way to go.

So, in order to prevent you from deflating like a punctured balloon when your dearest turns up with a meh gift, listen to me and do not tell him. If you have a joint account / add-on card / any device that will send your significant other the bill, use it and buy the darned thing yourself. Growing up, my brother and I used to joke that for anniversaries,  mum got the bling and dad, the bill! Or, in the words of Elle.com’s columnist,

Don’t expect a man to give you multiple orgasms. Indeed, you’ll live a more fulfilling life if you don’t expect a man to give you multiple anything.

The lady knows how to hit it right on the head.

Or, if you are a die-hard romantic and want the thing to come from him, then believe me, dropping hints all around is not the way to go about it. Men are the ‘show, not tell’ types and leaving notes along with the lunch-time sandwiches will not merit you a rock made of compressed carbon. So, drag him to the shop, point at the thing and say “me, want!” and smile at the guy selling it. Now that bloke is trained to react to such situations and will get your husband to sign on the dotted line before he can resist!

Oh and if there are any XY chromosomed type reading this, remember, getting a woman a gift is easy. For special days, you cannot go wrong with sparkly stuff. More special the day, more sparkles the thing must have. If the girl is not a sparkly kind (please show me who this deluded person is), then go with a pampering option. This means a mani-pedi (manicure-pedicure) on the low end and a spa day at the high end. If you are really looking to score, you can club bling and pampering together for mucho points. If you decide to take a leaf out of  my husband’s book and get a bunjee jumping thing, for chrissake, make it a tandem jump. At least you are sending the right sort of message, telling her you’ll jump into danger right with her!

Edited to add: After suggestions from the readers (er, reader = sraikh), I think there might be some gadget freaks aka Apple lovers that might just be happy with a Jobs product. Much as my heart beats for Apple, I cannot let my hubby gift me an Apple product and get away easily. Which was why, I bought my Macbook MONTHS before my 30th birthday and got some nice pearls on the big day

Another great present is a vacation – book a super holiday, preferably unencumbered and you’re gold.

A note to the wise: Gifts can be combined too – so, you can club a sky diving experience whilst on holiday in New Zealand or a solitaire ring to commemorate your holiday to South Africa.

Ahh! I love this place – my blog. It is back to being a blog again and I cannot describe the relief!  I love to fiddle with the themes and make subtle changes so I can figure how things work – kinda like the child that breaks its toy car apart to learn how it works. But recently, when I promised uber blogger The Mad Momma that I will help move her into a brand new virtual home, all her own, I decided to live with a new theme so I can debug it as and when. Because – how do I put it politely – the chit is technologically challenged!

Then I sorta kinda fell in louw with the layout and kept it on. And decided to use it as the base to write about different topics. To expand, if I can put it that way. But there was a big snag to this way of thinking – I ain’t no uber blogger! Thoughts do not flow at the speed of light from my nimble fingers. All the magazine-type layout did, apart from looking sexy as hell, was put pressure on me. And the more it built, the more I froze and couldn’t write. (Yeah yeah I know this was all in my head but as I am the one that lives in my head, what I say goes.)

Now that the pressure is off, I can write again – yayy! Even if the result is an inane thing like this – or worse, which my follow very soon. But no pressure, cos this is not pretending to be something it ain’t and so can be as inane as it wants. Cool or what?

Anyhoo, life’s good now. You can all breathe a sigh of relief at that proclamation and go forth and be merry.