- A child has eaten the Cadbury's Caramel I hid at the back of the cupboard for a rainy day. Heads will roll.
- The Facegoop Guardian commenters included a choice selection of people who really, really hate us today. "We are polarising" said M, through clenched teeth. "I suppose that's a good thing". Then I think she was sick into her wastepaper basket. You are going to tell me not to read them, and I would love to do that, but we are supposed to 'engage'. Sometimes I feel quite robust about it, other times it makes me feel sick and sad and like never writing in public again. This was a sort of middle of the spectrum day.
- I have achieved next to nothing. Half a Brussels Guide. Nada mas.
- It was a rainy and horrible morning, so I am wearing a long sleeved black Jaeger dress, WOLFORD VELVETS OH GOD YES, OPAQUES ARE BACK, ancient Pringle coat and my delicious winter scent, Frédéric Malle's Portrait of a Lady. I feel faintly guilty because it's really not that wintry and it feels like I am dancing on summer's grave, but I also feel totally, totally delighted to be back in presentable clothing. I will never learn how to dress in summer. Finally, I look like a grown up again. I had a little (damp) spring in my step.
- I went to a press conference for the Cadre Noir de Saumur today (France's finest dancing horses, I was hoping we might get a token for a free horse, but there were only some phials of tiny mints) and it was a serious affair with speeches by granite faced severe silver fox gentlemen in iconic black uniforms UNTIL it was time for questions and a ill-kempt man in his sixties with an expansive beer gut and unruly grey wispy hair in the second row put his hand up and asked the following question (in French):
"In view of the success of the national football team and our recent qualification for Rio, is it possible to train a horse to kick a football into a goal, to the accompaniment of 'We are the Champions'?"
He asked it in all seriousness (though he may just have a good poker face). The silver foxes in black dress uniform stiffened visibly and eventually one of them replied, suspiciously, that it would probably indeed be theoretically possible but they had no current plans to do so.
"It would be really popular" insisted the questioner. "Bring a little goal into the arena, get the horse to kick the ball..."
I have been laughing about this for 4 solid hours now. I love that man. He has made my day.
- A trip to Le Cirio last night was everything the Cirio should be, cosy and bathed in a warm glow of gin sozzled contentment and bookish chat. L and I had 2 gins apiece and were just starting to hitch our bosoms and tut at the loud rowdy table of Norn Irelanders opposite, when they left quite meekly, and then one of their number came back with a beer glass filled with change for the waiters, which was incredibly polite and delightful and I felt chastened to have narrowed my eyes at them.
- This is the most hilariously pretentious nightclub description ever. A door "physiognomist" instead of a bouncer. A "mindcode" not a dress code. Wild horses could not drag me to this place, which is a good thing because I'm certain I would fail the door physiognomy test.
- I have been asked to JUDGE A BAKE OFF. This is undoubtedly the pinnacle of my professional 'career' to date and I am very excited. Do I need a Zara floral bomber jacket? Should I demur if asked to describe myself as a feminist? Will a horse visit my bedside? If you are in Brussels and like making cakes, I think you should sign up so I have MORE CAKE to eat.
- Belgium is in the throes of a Panda Scandal (pandal?). My favourite wildlife park, known in these pages as "the scary bat caves" (the place with the escaping capybaras. I interviewed the man in charge here, and I believe he would be an epic panda keeper) appears to have won the right to house Belgium's pair of pandas (the Francophone press are saying it's a done deal, the Flemish aren't). The Antwerp zoo is outraged and challenging the decision. Either way, it's a big fat win for people who are amused by ludicrous public arguments over pandas, and I count myself among those people. Though, on second thoughts, surely the best solution to this problem would be for the two linguistic communities to get a panda each? It's not as if pandas seem to be particularly sociable creatures, so I doubt they would pine for one another. Then, in a moving and symbolic act of unification, the pandas could be brought together to mate, healing generations of conflict with the birth of a baby panda that would stand for peace and cooperation between Flanders and Wallonia, all crowned with unimaginable cuteness. Call me, Elio.
Le Cirio, obviously.
What is your Tuesday verdict?