In which we attempt to ressisutate the blog by posting all the book reviews scattered all over the place....

Royal Babylon- The alarming history of European Royalty, Karl Shaw

#bookreview. 

So we recently hosted the pesky Omicron at our place. 

Apart from the more well known symptoms, it seems to have also caused a whole host of rather baffling side effects .

For example, I have been playing arcade games (not a big fan) or  listening to indipop after 25 years ( not 'Made in India', but a very close shave) and reading books by Karl Shaw( and now Michael Farquhar) rather obsessively.

Nothing wrong with these books but well after decades of

a) Not being even remotely interested in monarchy-( I've have zero POV on Marklegate or Epstein saga except vaguely registering it  somewhere) 

b) Not being at all  princessy(much to my 6yo's annoyance)

c) Or particularly interested in reading history per se (too many uncomfortable memories of school  report days and  the History teachers despairing looks)

So cannot explain this weird recent interest with the gallivanting Georges or the Henry of the Head-detaching fame.

So coming to the book - Royal Babylon. I'm not quite sure what is the correct adjective is for this book. It's.... illuminating? 

We have all been brought up on a diet  of fairly tales and the Disney Prince charming and dainty, delicate Princesses so the reality is like a bucket, nay a waterfall, of ice cold water.

The monarchy has not been described as any of those - rather it's scheming, sybiatric, sadistic and  syphilitic. The princesses are anything but delicate - variously described as dwarfish, nymphomaniac, kleptomaniac, with raging affairs and just rage.

Most of the king's have been described as insane (whether it's George III or Ludwig of Bavaria (ironically he's the one who built Neuschwanstein the inspiration for the Disney castle)) or psychopathic.

You have that charming royal  who thought it would be interesting to pickle his wifes lover in a jar and keep it on her bedside table, or the other who thought getting an courtier to bite a corpse would be a  fun party trick. 

But, the writing. I don't know whether it was because I was fevered but it seemed rather disjointed - going back and forth, erratic and jumpy which didn't make for particularly good reading.  It was funny in bits but seemed forced and quite cringey in many other places. 

At some points it looked very vindictive, rather below-the-belt tabloidisque rant  rather than well researched history. But to be fair, I believe that this was one of his earlier books, I've just started Bad, mad and dangerous to know which seems a tad more put together.

So in conclusion? 

3/5 if you have covid and need something to read which doesn't require you to follow any plotline or you know, use your brains.

1.5/5 otherwise

P.S. Have a feeling this post is as disjointed as the book it is critiquing. Pliss excuseh

Why kids under 10 should come with a mute button

So minicyn is a not so mini and a very garrulous 4 yo right now. Thus, we have some scintillating sessions such as this one a few months ago. 

Fancy french type restaurant - you know, the ones,with those twisty dinner rolls and dressy decor. 

Junior, bored of sitting around decides to circumbulate the restaurant. Just happens to cross a sophisticated middle aged lady who might be having some erm...digestive issues. 
Comes back to our table, and in clear, carrying tones asks "Mamma, why is that aunty ( pointing at the offending lady) doing potty in the restaurant?"

HNY and all that from this side of 2015

One of the new year resolutions is to restart writing - so let me start with New Year wishes to any reader who still visits the page. Let me also fall at your feet in gratitude for still visiting the page.

Happy New Year folks. Hope its the best yet. 

Baker's Cyn

So I have started this baking thing recently.

Is anyone having images of a soccer-mom-suburban-type-apple-and-cinnamon crumble baking Cyn?  

Perish the though.

I had never got into this baking gig. Mostly because the descriptions of the mother/mil baking escapades sounded tedious and intimidating (and one could get the cake so easily in bakeries –why reinvent?) . All that sifting all purpose flour (I didn't know what all purpose flour was till quite recently. It just sounded vaguely magical and omniscient), and beating eggs and what not. 

And historically, my cooking tends to be what I call whimsical and my mother calls “cant-you-follow-one-effing-recipe-properly?”Baking I am led to understand is a bit like science experiments, if recipes are not measured out stuff can explode.

So what changed? 

Well I joined this off-shoot school group of chefs (Yes. Every group needs the backbencher - and I fit that role beautifully). These good folks are bakers with the capital B. Black forest cakes with icing (I don’t think it ever registered that someone actually makes these. I suppose I thought they spontaneously materialize in the bakery or something) . They bake breads like soda bread and herbed garlic bread and foccacia. They make cookies, and granola bars and one of them even makes half a dozen dishes for dinner every day.

After months of this, I was shamed into attempting the first cake.

In other developments, we finally got a working oven. After bidding a fond and tearful adieu to the MILs 56 year old one. She did call her favorite technician for a last ditch resuscitation attempt, but when I saw him cheerfully sticking metal pipes with fevikwik thought that I would much rather not have a gas leak in the house. So hallelujah, I have burners and oven that actually burn and bake.

AND I have a hyperactive four year old boy who needs entertaining on rainy days.

So voila, Cyn the Baker was born.

Had the initial hiccups - of wondering whether baking soda and powder were the same things (they are not – they have “different actions” whatever that may be) and happily using my chai ka cup as a measuring cup for the first few attempts before I realized that you get something called a measuring cup.

 I have still not understood why the batter must be mixed with a wooden spoon and steel or a plastic one won’t do.

It’s been baby steps - carrot cake (which is rocking), the brownie (which is brilliantly easy) and a mango cake where I decided to do some extempore baking. (There is only so much of discipline I can take Gah) in which I managed to make the batter so incredibly dense that the blender had a stroke and died. (Strangely enough the resultant output wasn’t terrible as I expected. Consequently, I have become a fan of baking powder).

Ah well, maybe I WILL turn into a domestic diva after all. 

(God Forbid)

The seven year rash

So the hero goes for an onsite in a firangi land. 

On his return, he distributes some loot for assorted family members. 

For me, with a flourish he produces,,

.... five pairs of washing and kitchen gloves. 

"You catch a cold if you wash your hands without these isn't it?"

And as clincher ( of our deep and mutual understanding) he declares " I even got the right size!!" 

I'm almost tempted to marry him again. 

Ciw has a Facebook page

So on the tenth anniversary year of my blog, I decided to commemorate by starting a Facebook page.

Gah, who am I kidding. The offline avatar page was getting too crowded. When parents second cousins in law start sending friend requests you know it's time to move on.

Also my mother reads my statuses and calls me for a post mortem on them. It's very stressful.

Anyways if I do have any readers left, I'd love to see you on that side.

DYAC

Have a rather cryptic entry on my phone to-do list which states "get rid of body". 

Racked my brains but can't for the life of me remember whose body and where it has been hidden. Hmmm. 

I love auto correct. It edits my life to add so much drama into it.

P.S. Shamelessly recycling from elsewhere ( blog resuscitation measures pliss excuse)