At the end of the rainbow

At the end of the rainbow there is said to be a pot of gold. I’ve just seen a beautiful rainbow but couldn’t find any gold! Just a bunch of loud girls playing football….Too bad!

The one on the right (wiht the red socks) is my daughter, who’s now officially my boss, as I’m officially her personal taxi driver….

Thank you!

Thank you to all of you, dear friends, for your lovely words and this overwhelming demonstration of sympathy and affection. I showed your comments to my daughter and she was moved to tears (well, she cries at every mention of Lilly nowadays). Now she is firmly convinced that only a little puppy can help her a bit to get over Lilly's loss! Crafty little girl! Thanks again.

Lilly RIP

This is the first day of spring but not a nice day for us. Our beloved hamster Lilly left us this morning. My daughter is desperate. She was the fifth member of our family and we loved her dearly. She was my daughter’s first pet and mine as well. I did not think I could feel so upset for the loss of such a little ball of fur. Lilly was the best hamster in the world.
She gave us so much joy and we will never forget her.

A Yellow Tribute

Clifford's Tower is one of the few remaining pieces of York Castle - it was originally the Castle's 'keep'.

To begin with the tower was known as the King's Tower. It was first erected in 1086 by William The Conqueror. This early castle was burnt down by locals who rebelled.

A second wooden castle was built, and in 1190 this was the location of one of the most horrifying episodes in York's history. Over 150 Jews were rounded up into the castle by an angry mob of locals, who had decided not to repay the loans which the Jews had leant them. Rather than be killed those inside the tower decided to commit suicide, some having to murder their own wives and children in the process. This terrible act also saw the tower burnt to the ground for the second time.

The daffodils all around Clifford's Tower were planted in memory of the 150 Jews of York who were murdered and this plaque commemorates this gruesome event. It reads:

"On the night of Friday 16 March 1190 some 150 Jews and Jewesses of York, having sought protection in the Royal Castle on this site from a mob incited by Richard Malebisse and others, chose to die at each other's hands rather than renounce their faith".

It has been said that the stone walls of Clifford's Tower have been seen bleeding blood, the blood of those Jews who lost their lives centuries ago and for this reason that some of the stones are permanently stained red.
[In more modern times, the bleeding walls have been written off to be no more then iron-oxide in the stone. But the legend is surely more fascinating and touching …]

And the book goes to...

I've just put all your names in Lily the Hamster's muesli bowl and she has picked one:

Fresh eyes on London

Congratulations, Mo! Please email me your address and I will post you the book.

Cheers to everybody else and thank you for your interest!

White Tiger Giveaway

What a surprise. I loved The White Tiger. I could not put it down and it kept me awake every night since the day I bought it. I did not know this author (Aravind Adiga,) until Mothership (Motherhood:The Final Frontier) suggested it as the first book of the newly created book club of the British Mummy Bloggers. For its angry and provocative point of view, I’ve found this book a compulsory and very interesting reading, totally different from other novels by Indian authors that I have read so far. It is a kind of unveiling of several types of masks: the peaceful and spiritual India and the modern computer society in Bangalore. It’s a sort of educative novel, a crime without punishment and without repentance. The White Tiger" presents a raw and unromanticised India, both thrilling and shocking - from the desperate, almost lawless villages along the Ganges, to the booming Wild South of Bangalore and its technology and outsourcing centres.

The main character, Balram Halwai, is a poor low-caste Indian, the son of a rickshaw-puller who somehow manages to crawl his way up to be an entrepreneur in Bangalore. He tells his story via a series of letters written to the Chinese Premier who is about to visit Bangalore. The poor parts of India are referred to as the Darkness which is a world filled with hunger, servitude and life-long debt. Modern Delhi is referred to as the Light. This is a world where men and women grow fat, have air-conditioned cars, mobile phones and guarded apartments with large TVs and computer games. But the Light has some very murky aspects to it - bribery, corruption and murder. The story is told at a blazing pace. Balram is ambitious and astute. He does well to become a driver for a local landlord's family - but he wants more..... The dilemma for him is whether he can shake off his chains by honest means or whether some blood will have to flow.

I read The White Tiger in less than a week, so it is in pristine condition (no tea spilt over it, no tears either!) and I would like to pass it on to anybody of you who’s interested in reading it. Please leave a comment below and my usual assistant Lily the Hamster will help me choose the recipient of the book on Friday morning (if more than one of you is interested of course!).

Meet Ivo

Please meet Ivo, my friend’s Giovanna’s donkey. He lives in a comfy stable on the Monferrato hills in Italy and he’s free to roam the fields during the day. Ivo is my daughter’s favourite “pet”. He’s the loveliest and most intelligent animal ever! Last year my friend’s old mare, Ivo’s best friend, was very ill and she was kept in a separate stable but Ivo brayed and screamed so much that they had to move him next to her to keep her company. When then she died and my friend has to apply for a special authorisation to bury the mare in her property, Ivo spent days on her “grave” grieving and it took him ages to move from that spot.

He does not like being brushed and groomed. Just at the sight of a brush he starts braying and runs away. But he likes cuddles especially from children. Vicky can do anything to him, even ride on him, and he’s always happy. Although we see him only a couple of times a year he knows her very well. She just needs to shout his name and he runs to greet her wherever she is. We will see Ivo soon in a couple of weeks when we travel to Italy. And we can hardly wait.