Having said all that, however stressful the imminent move is, what’s keeping me awake at night is the trumpet cake I’ve been commissioned to make for Anna’s birthday party next weekend. Now that’s stressful!

This is the time of year that small children get vomiting bugs, siblings pick fights over who left the lid off the  mayonnaise, you spend a months salary on food and another month being surgically attached to the sink or cooker, you feel compelled to eat the contents of your fridge over the course of 3 days (and lets not start on the drink), elderly relatives become incontinent on your sofa, you get a cold that lasts for the entire break and to top it all,  when it’s all over you have to go back to work and face the daunting pile of admin awaiting your return.

But yes, despite it all, we had a lovely Christmas. High points have to include seeing Joe McElderry at the O2 singing some Christmas songs to introduce The Nutcracker performed by the Birmingham Royal Ballet and of course,  Christmas lunch with a turkey raised by my Mum. The lowest point was sitting in the bath half the night with the twins and the vomiting bug for company whilst James was away on Alfie Boe’s tour – he has never been so missed!

Happy 2012 to all.

xxx

Belton House

As the parents of 2 year olds, we are very used to sleepless nights, it’s to be expected, goes with the territory etc etc. But we had to stay up all night last week for a different reason. Our studio basement flooded with the torrential rain and we had a full on fight to keep the water out. We won, the carpet is saved (hallelujah), but spare a thought for the client we had booked in at 9am the next morning. Dehumidifiers on and our eyes propped open with matchsticks.

SO, hardly surprisingly we have all gone down with colds meaning more sleepless nights and I have a concert in Guildford Cathedral on Saturday… I’m fairly confident my voice will be fine by then but it will be the first time I’ve performed Tonight, Tonight from West Side Story and I was hoping to have had a few goes at home before singing it in front of an audience. Still, nothing like a challenge and at least it’s in English (easier to make up forgotten words in your mother tongue!).

I must just add a big thank you to David for coming to hear me at Belton House last weekend. Not only did he bring slug-free strawberries from his garden (which I munched my way through in the car home after the concert) but lovely chocolates which we have managed to save – so far!

We’ve been in discussions these last few weeks to produce another album. Not anyone from our usual classical world I might add. Trouble is, these big names from the world of pop and rock, expect certain perks, and normally get them. The particular artist in question happily admits to not being able to write, or arrange but still wants 50% of our royalties. We worked with an artist a long while back now who made similar demands, but this time they can barely read music which makes it doubly galling that they want to claim to have written half of our work.

So, do we say:

“That’s not fair,” as we watch them go and choose another producer, arranger,  or not be so proud and do a deal? It’s not just super injunctions the rich and famous have access to, it’s whatever they want. “Doh”, I hear you groan. Did you only just work that one out?”

I know, I know, calm down, it’s just business and a % of something is better than a % of nothing. But don’t think I won’t continue to growl about it. I heard James mutter, “the slugs are gonna get it tonight” as I stomped out the back door armed with my trusty salt cellar.

We got back from recording sessions in Prague at the weekend. In time for the boys 2^nd birthday and the  making of the ridiculously over ambitious train cake. When will I learn?  They were recently discharged from physio which is great and Seth has even been heard saying Mamamama in the last few days. Definitely a step towards that all important naming of yours truly!

Here is a photo of our very stressful trip to buy them new shoes. It was my second attempt as Arthur doesn’t much like new places or people (nor having his feet measured it turns out). James came along this time but we still ended up guessing his shoe size and opting for open toes incase we were wrong!

Finally, here is something to keep you guessing. We are soon recording a rather famous English singer with a career spanning over 40 years but not in the classical world. I’ll spill the beans next week, don’t want to jinx anything! Mind you, it would have to be the day before my concert.

“ What’s a Walkman Mummy?”

was her reply.

Feeling rather old I explained that it was how we used to listen to our cassettes.

“What’s a cassette Mummy”

WHAT. Now I feel ancient. How can she not know what a cassette is?

I suspect she might be enjoying lauding her youth over me (just as I did with her Grandmother). Only last week we were discussing the forthcoming royal nuptials when Anna piped up:

“Who is Princess Diana?”

She died before Anna was born…

Well at least her youth means she just instinctively shows me everything my iPhone can do, not to mention my iPod and without even reading the instructions.

Along with every other (disorganised) self-employed person, I am currently in a very dark place I call,

Tax Hell.

No amount of Pinot Gris, Pinot Noir and pretty vista can reach me here. The wine would provide some limited comfort but sadly we are supposed to be on a detox/health kick. Why we always feel the need to deny ourselves during the coldest, darkest month of the year and during the inevitable month of tax hell I don’t know, but we do it year in year out anyway. Surely tax should be done in July with the sun shining. How much nicer to ban the booze in a month of sun and outdoors activity rather than during a month spent sitting inside, keeping warm with it dark by 4 o’clock and that’s if you’re lucky enough for it to have got light in the first place.

Clearly I could never live in Scandinavia or maybe I’m just suffering from post holiday blues.

One glimmer of sun in the otherwise darkened sky is how well Alfie Boe’s album Bring Him Home is doing in the charts. Thanks to anyone out there who bought it- I hope you are enjoying it.

1. Drug them
2. Check drugs don’t have vomiting side effects before administering
3. Drug yourself
   
4. Bring change of clothes for kids AND adults (see no.2)
5. Don’t bother bringing yourself a novelpaper/magazine etc. Waste of space/gives sense of false hope
6. Don’t expect to eat for 27 hours unless you have forked out for a seat for the little darlings as you can’t put your table down anyway.
7. Don’t choose a ‘dry’ airline (like me). Alcohol is vital to your survival and 27 hours is a long time.
8. Don’t let your child see the buttons in the armrest for calling the air stewards, however bored and desperate. They quickly lose their sense of humour and are trained to come every time it lights up and offer assistance.
9. Turning the reading light on and off repeatedly for anything over an hour also appears to annoy other passengers.
10. In the unlikely event that you are fortunate enough to get your child to sleep on your lap, do not under any circumstances drink any fluids. If you already did, wetting yourself is infinitely preferable to waking the child to visit the loo.

Finally, if the lady in the seat behind is stupid enough to play peekboo with your toddler in the first 20 mins of your flight, thats her problem 10 hours in, not yours.

We are coming home tomorrow and I have the fear…

I had to get to Mum’s from London, about 2 hours normally but going at 30 miles an hour along the treacherous,  snow covered M25, it took considerably longer. Just before the A21 turn off, my daughter was violently sick all over everything. I had to strip her at the next service station and wrap her in my coat before setting off again. I got to Mum’s and  threw the kids at her, added the generous gift of a plastic bag full of stinking clothes before setting off to Brighton, another hour away.

The rehearsal started at 11 but as I’m sleeping with the conductor I wasn’t too worried about turning up late. Got there at 12:15 with no time to warm up and having coughed half the night my voice wasn’t great. But, the leader of the cello section didn’t manage to get there until 1:30 due to a  terrible pile up on the M25 so that put things into perspective; it could have been a whole lot worse.

Amazingly, despite the snow, we had a great audience and lovely atmosphere. Unfortunately we couldn’t get home again so had to stay the night at my parents. Best joke of the night came from James (the conductor incase you hadn’t worked that one out!):

Whats the  difference between a Snow man and a Snow woman?

Snowballs

Coram's Fields entrance

Although Great Ormond Street is a pain to get to with the double buggy  (it makes all the nearest tube stations impossible to use), it does have one enormous plus, as well as the fantastic care we receive of course. Just across the road is Coram’s Fields which has to have the BEST kids playground in central London. Rather longer ago than I care to remember, when I was still at the Guildhall,  and James had his first job on the staff at ENO, we were both involved in a production of Mozart’s Magic Flute performed in Coram’s Fields. There was no money to book a pro orchestra so he persuaded many of the administration staff at ENO to play; many of whom had learnt an instrument to a very high standard before sensibly realising a salary was much more attractive than suffering for your art. It was on returning there with the boys this week that I noticed the paddling pool which was emptied and used as the orchestral pit for our production. It reminded me of the opening night when several of the woodwind couldn’t play for most of Act 2 because they had uncontrollable giggles. Trouble is those kind of giggles are contagious. It wasn’t until after the performance they showed James what had set them off. He had been conducting right next to a sign that read:

Pants must be worn at all times.