The MADs awards 2011

Oh, you lovely, lovely peeps. You've nominated me for the MADs awards 2011. I am in the list of nominees for the categories "Best Writer" and "Most Inspiring".

I didn't actually check ALL the categories, so if you nominated me for my extensive food writing, or my numerous craft ideas, then please do let me know. And if you nominated me as "best small business blog" or "best pregnancy blog", then I strongly suggest you get some new reading glasses.

Thank you, bloggy friends.

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Nomination

Well, this is embarrassing. I've been nominated for an award. It's for being "Inspirational". That's very lovely, and it means a lot to me. A... Lot... The embarrassing thing is that I'm just about to post a very ranty post about the trivial subject of my least favourite toy in the world. So if you've clicked over here thinking "Ooooh, I need a bit of "inspirational", I'll see what this Iota Quota blog is all about", then you'll be somewhat disappointed (as they say in America).

But thank you, whosoever of you nominated me. You all are fab. If you want to vote for me, you can click here.

Election fever

Voting opens. History is in the making. The British public consider their choices. Will they vote red, blue or yellow? Or... Blogger Green!

Bloggy Friends. What can I say? Well, to my American readers, it's yay! and a hug, and maybe a small shriek of delight. To my British readers, it's a mumbled thank-you-very-much-you-really-shouldn't-have, and a look at my shuffling feet, before moving swiftly on to ask about the weather.

You lovely, lovely people. You have voted me into the position of Finalist in the MADs awards, sponsored by Butlins, in the category of Best Writer. Best Writer, for heaven's sake. Those of you who know me, will know how very much and what very deep pleasure that gives me. It is the greatest compliment you could have paid me (though a big thanks too to the people who nominated me as most inspiring, funniest, or best overall blogger - that last one, thanks Mum). Bloggy Friends, you are the best. (Is there a category for that? Can I vote for you?)

So as the country goes to the polls to vote in the (probably) more important matter of choosing members of parliament, let me reflect back with you on my own election campaign. It's been just the best. I haven't slogged through years of local party activity, stuffing envelopes (or whatever the 21st century equivalent of that is) in dingy back offices. I haven't had to sit in front of any intimidating selection committees. I haven't had to toady up to party officials. I haven't had to knock on doors, or be heckled by angry members of the public. I haven't had to kiss babies (though I'm always up for kissing babies). Three years ago, I started a blog (could someone hit the 'play' button on 'Land of Hope and Glory' at this point? I'd like it to be playing in the background as you read this). Yes, three years ago I started a blog, and since then I've splurged my splurges, rambled my rambles, ranted my rants, whinged my whinges, pondered my ponderings, wittered my witterings... (do you spot a theme developing here?) In all, I've just been doing what I love doing - writing, reading, commenting - and look at you, lovely people. You went and nominated me Best Writer. Best Writer, for heaven's sake. Those of you who know me, will know how [Shurely shome way of making her stop now. Ed.]

Then I did this thing where I said "vote for me, I need cheering up". I feel a bit bad about that. It's the blogging equivalent of having a pregnant wife.

Now, a bit about the voting in this final round. First, you have a month, so don't just whizz over and vote straightaway (though I do still need cheering up... obviously...) There are 9 categories, with 5 finalists in each, so that's a lot of fab blogs to have a look at. It's a sign of how big the blogosphere has become, that I have to confess to not knowing even half of the blogs up there (and I've read a lot of blogs). So this is a chance to go out and about from our own small corners of the blogosphere, and see what everyone else is excited about. The MADs organisers aren't going to be putting on any live TV debates for you, so you're going to have to get on out there, and do the reading yourselves before casting your vote (but don't lose sight of the 'cheering up' aspect of things.)

And thank you so much to Childsure, who not only offer private health insurance for kids, but have also sponsored the Best Writer category of the MADs awards.

Now, let me go and kiss some babies.

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It's a mad, mad world

Sorry. I keep getting diverted from the Garage Sale.

Just had to say a big thank you to whoever of you nominated me for a MAD award. A really big thank you. I am very thrilled. I've been nominated in two categories: best writer, and most inspiring blogger. Wow. Is all I can say. And thank you.

I was wondering if it was a bit hypocritical of me to be excited by this, what with me having publicly said I'm a bit sad about the way blogging is getting more commercial, and these awards being sponsored by... you know... companies and things. But then I thought "Nah..."

What I like about these awards is that anyone can nominate anyone. So you don't have to be a well-known blogger, or a blogger with an impressive statistical arsenal, or a blogger who tweets and facebooks and does clever techie things. You just have to be a blogger who someone has read and liked. Pretty democratic and non-commercially-orientated, I'd say.

I like the range of categories too. If you like a blog, you'll find an aspect of it that fits nicely into a category. They've done their best to provide a spot for everyone. If you're feeling grumpy because you think you're writing a blog that's excluded from these awards, it's probably called a diary.

If you click on the MAD Awards logo on the sidebar, you can go and nominate your favourite blogger. Or me. Oh go on, nominate me. I need cheering up. Lots and lots of people are saying things like "don't nominate me, nominate someone more worthy". But I'm not. I'm saying "nominate ME!" Shameless.

Where was I? Oh yes. Hallowe'en and that blessed Garage Sale.

I have an award

Wife in Hong Kong has given me an award. She is a proper expat. Goes to parties where people wear Dior dresses, holidays in exotic locations. I'm sure she says things like "the sun's over the yardarm", whilst I am more likely to say "the sun's over the back yard". But she also talks of the loneliness of the early weeks, the disorientating way everyone else seems to know what is going on, the angst of watching children struggling to adjust... normal expat fodder.


I've abbreviated the blurb a little, because I'm a bit shy of these things. The heart of it is this: This award focuses not on the glory and fanfare of blogging, but in the PROXIMITY to one another through this online-world. This blog invests and believes in the PROXIMITY--nearness in space, time and relationships. These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement!

This is obviously hogwash as I am totally interested in both prizes and self-aggrandizement (although I'd rather it was spelt with an 's' - aggrandizement that is, not prizes). And as for 'the glory and fanfare of blogging', well, I'd definitely be going for a slice of that, if only I knew where to find it.

Proximity. Yes. I have found lots of that through blogging, though not 'in space, time and relationships'. Proximity of experience. The feeling that if I type some mad thought and send it out there, someone, some lovely person, will write a comment saying "ooh, I know just what you mean". And if I am blog-browsing, I never have to roam far before I find a description of an event that has happened to me, or a reflection, or a feeling, beautifully crafted into words better than my own could have been.

Proximity over great distance. That is exactly what blogging is all about for me, and let me tell you, when you are transported to another continent and expected to make sense of the experience, blogging is gold dust.

There are, of course, a dillion people who I could pass the award on to. I'm going to choose Potty Mummy and Reluctant Memsahib, because one day, one glorious day, we are going to put proximity into action, and come together from three different continents to meet for tea and cakes at Patisserie Valerie on Marylebone High Street. It's not an exclusive occasion. Anyone can join us - in the future reality, or in the current anticipation (which actually, I suspect is just as good).

And Rotten Correspondent, because she and I have just found out that last year, we were in the same city for a week-end, and we didn't know it. We could have met. In real life. Physical proximity: it's no good unless you know about it at the time.

Awards

These awards are definitely reasons to be cheerful. Getting awards is marvellous for the morale, exciting for the ego, superlative for the self. The embarrassing thing is that some of them date back a little while, so I apologise for being slow in collecting them. It's partly because I keep writing blog posts which are on the long side already, and I haven't wanted to make them even longer by adding an award to the bottom. It's partly because anything which involves uploading images is inherently a bit scary - but as you will see, I've overcome the fear, and can now display brightly coloured little squares on my blog with the best of them.

A big thank you to all who have bestowed the awards on me. Please don't think that the delay in collecting them is an indication of ingratitude. I also have a nasty niggling feeling that I have missed somebody, and if that is the case, I apologise and hope you'll be lenient. Again, take it as a sign of incompetence, not ingratitude.

Shall I just shut up now and show you the awards?


This one from Rotten Correspondent







This one from Beta Mum and Mother at Large










This one from Mya and Kaycie












These two from Annie















This one from Laurie











Oo er Missus. Intellectually stimulating. Or was that intellectually simulating, perhaps?

Look at them, standing obediently in a tidy column. Lovely. Thank you all.

Back to School

The school year has got well and truly underway. The supplies are in, the children are in too. 3-yo has started preschool, or “free school”, as she first called it, which is a bit ironic as it isn’t. It would be in the UK, but here it isn’t. I don’t feel we’re quite getting our money’s worth yet. She missed her second morning as she was violently sick (that’s vomiting, for my US readers) the night before. And she will miss her fourth morning, as it’s Labor Day. Still, this week’s two remaining mornings, she took in her own inimitable 3 year old stride. More about her another time.

The boys look like American school boys. It’s something to do with the Henman-length white socks above trainers and below Bermuda shorts. It’s more than sartorial though. It’s something about their bearing. Their shoulders are held a bit more squarely, pushed a bit further back. There’s a small bounce in their stride, and their arms swing a little more. It’s a confident gait, but not a swagger. They sound more and more like American school boys too. When you ask them a question, they don’t reply “I don’t know”, but “I have no idea”. And when I picked them up one afternoon, 10-yo greeted me with “Today sucked”.

Classroom pets have been an important theme of the first week. In 10-yo’s class, they have a rat. We can opt to welcome it home at a week-end if we wish. I wasn’t too keen initially, but having met the rat at Meet the Teacher night, I felt better about it. She wasn’t too vermin-like, and really quite cute (the rat, that is). The class voted on a name, and the rat is now called Oreo. She is dark brown. 10-yo said he preferred one of the other suggested names. He thought Elizabeth suited her better.

In 6-yo’s class, they have a leopard gecko. Geckos and rats. The pet/pest line is fairly thin these days, isn’t it? I don’t think the gecko has a name yet. Meanwhile, in science, 6-yo is learning about mealworms. Each pupil has five of them in a pot. He has named one of his “Longy”, because it is longer than its friends. I asked him whether the others had names too, and he went a bit quiet. “Can you tell the others apart?” I asked. “What do you mean, pull them apart? In half? That’s not very nice.” By the time I’d explained, the moment had passed, so I never did discover if the other four have names. I suspect not. The girl at the next desk has one called Tricksy, because it does tricks. She said to it “roll over” and it rolled over so vigorously that it rolled right off her hand. Wow. Only a week back at school, and they’ve already learned to train mealworms. Not bad for First Graders.

6-yo wondered if they are called mealworms because they eat a lot. Of course, the leopard gecko might have a different take on it. As his teacher laughingly explained to us at Meet the Teacher night, she has set herself up for some delicate logistics. The pots of mealworms being studied and trained by the pupils have to be kept carefully separate from the one containing the gecko food.

In 10-yo’s class, the teacher has a reward system based on coupons. You earn coupons for A+ work or good behavior, and when you have enough, you can trade them in. If you trade in a small number, you can get a sticker or a pencil. Larger numbers will get you candy, extra recess, or a night off homework. The top reward, worth 150 coupons, is lunch out with the teacher (she pays first time, you pay subsequently). This shows how different school is since my day. I would have died a hundred deaths rather than go out for lunch with the teacher. It would have been painful in the extreme, and the kind of thing one wouldn’t have wished on one’s worst enemy (who for many children probably was the teacher). I can still remember the dreadful embarrassment of bumping into a teacher in a shop or the street, and willing my mother with all my might not to stop and talk. I am pleased that for my children, a teacher is someone who you would want to spend time with outside the classroom. And as marketing types know, there’s nothing like the promise of a free lunch to keep the punters happy.

You usually have to wait till the end of the school year for prize-giving, but this time round, it has come at the beginning. I am proud to collect the following:

the Thoughtful Blogger Award from Missing You Already,

and the Nice Matters Award from three people: the Rotten Correspondent, Ingenious Rose and Missing You Already (again).

You can picture me, shoes polished, socks pulled up, tie straight, hair neatly combed, walking briskly across the platform, shaking hands with the Head Teacher, remembering to smile and say thank you, as rehearsed, and returning to my seat, awards in hand. In hand. Not on computer as jpeg file ready for easy upload to blog page. I'm hoping they will teach me that now I'm a Second Grader at blogschool.

Thank you so much, Mya, IR and Rotten Corres.

Embarrassment of Riches

Oh my wordy. I don’t know what is going on in this corner of the blogosphere, but it seems I have won two more awards. So a big THANK YOU to the Rotten Correspondent. They are the Schmooze Award, for "the ability to converse casually with others and make social connections", and the Creative Blogger Award. Here they are (oh no, that techie bit again...)


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https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ts3jlJRm_scg5xBoBeuYbu8S0LXcSULwucbmPejcd0B-zN2KicitjVn-SqO4-8O3epgoL1cC1QcggmjBlavJIS2LNhlj62gYukt7Om_iPEv2qq2AEr4ZrOC2qAH9tGaGMKQWhdIjas8/s1600-h/schmooze_award737768%5B1%5D.gif
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGIy3EDnc1mTzriB6uSGmzL70HRf9v_wjURd6WJ-d8uNK4n-MH6SUYQDSghw1IW1IZF7H9A5TCe5vFuanG82B9kLuMUsQgLUrMOUuctbavNEe0T6jEsWlO-D6E_UmKGsm4IJb3ZgGyUwdr/s320/schmooze_award737768.gif

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Oh bother. Look, I'll sort this out later. Meanwhile, I'll get on with the next bit, which is to pass the awards on. There are so many darn fine blogs out there, that I could scatter these awards around like Shake‘n’Vac (actually I’ve never used that product – can’t see the point of putting more stuff down to hoover up, when there is obviously enough down there already, otherwise I wouldn’t be hoovering in the first place). But I’m just going to pass them on to one person each, because I feel all this awarding is getting a bit out of hand.

The Schmooze Award goes to Katie, Long-ayelander in Glasgow, because of all the people-living-abroad blogs I read, she is the one who I think has thrown herself most heartily and gustily, gutsily even, into local life. That’s a bit of a judgement, because we’re all trying our best, but she spends a rainy Saturday watching local people dress up in armour and re-enact battles. That's trying your very best. In one blog post she tells us of a restaurant in China where they serve the penises of various animals … oh, click here and go and read it yourself if you’re interested. I am confident that if she found herself in that corner of China, she would go and sample the fare. I don’t think I would. See what I mean? So this Schmooze Award is for you, Katie.

The Creative Blogger Award goes to Reluctant Memsahib, because she’s just moved to a place called Outpost, and I think is in need of jollying along. And is a very creative blogger, obviously.

One final award, if I may. This is a one-off, not passable-onable, award to Charlesinparis, for his superb rendering of a Jackson 5 song into text. See the comments under my previous post. I think I’ll call it the Diddley Diddley Dee Award. Charlesinparis, there must be a commercial use for a skill like that.

All this talk of awards turns my thoughts to Hollywood, and the Beckhams’ move to LA – you might have heard about it. Does anyone have their new phone number? I thought I might give Victoria a call. When I moved here, I had been put in touch with a local English woman, and it was very useful to be able to email her with little requests for information, about choosing a school, house-hunting, or whether English bed linen fits American mattresses. I’ve missed the boat on that with Victoria - she's already here so will have made those what to bring decisions some while ago, but I think it would be friendly to call her up. Make her feel at home. “Hello Vicks”, I could say, “don’t worry, you’re going to love it here. Honest. Everything’s so cheap. Get yourself down to Wal-Mart, where children’s t-shirts are 2 for $7. And it’s all very convenient: you’ll have a walk-in fridge in your kitchen, the washing machines and tumble dryers are huge, and your garage door will open automatically. Don’t worry about tea bags - you can get them easily enough.” Just little things to make her feel she’s not alone in this. We have a certain amount in common. Moving to America for a husband’s job. Stay at home mum with 3 kids. I think she’d like it if I gave her a call.

Actually, I’ll let you into a secret. It may well not just be coincidence that the Beckhams have moved here so soon after we did. It may well be because of us. We’re like that. Trend-setting types. If you need convincing, let me tell you this. We moved to St Andrews in 2000, and in 2001, Prince William came to study there. Don’t tell me that these events aren’t linked in some way. If I were you, I’d keep reading this blog, because when we next move, you’ll be able to be ahead of the game, and spot the next hot location. Don't say I didn't tell you.

Moody Friday... Rockin' Saturday!

Beta Mum, at Keir Royale, has given me an award. It is the Rockin' Blogger Award. Not only is it very nice to have an award (and I am wearing some shocking pink capris to match the logo), but it is also very nice to receive it from someone whose writing I enjoy and really respect. Thanks, Beta Mum. I was having a bad Friday, and it cheered me up no end.

I now have the challenge of uploading the image. You will notice, the observant among you, that my blog is still stuck in the dark ages of text, with not a glimmer of a picture to enliven it. This I am planning to remedy - but not until after the school holidays. I cannot resist the little pink award logo, however, so I have had to get to grips with the necessary for uploading that (and hope it won't disappear against my rather pink background).

Ah, there we are! I'm tempted to say "that wasn't too bad", but I'm a truthful sort of person. Anyway, the award brings with it the pleasure of passing it onto two other blogs. I nominate Rebecca, at Somewhere Over the Pond, who writes amusingly and thoughtfully about life as an American mom in London. You need some kind of an award for even attempting to make sense of a nation as eccentric as the Brits. She is, in some sense, a mirror to me, a British mum in America. So for her, I would like to make the award the Nikcor Reggolb Drawa, but that might be confusing, and I couldn't possibly design a backwards logo. So Rebecca, you're stuck with Rockin' Blogger.

My other nomination is the author of Confessions of a Rotten Correspondent. She is an ER nurse, has 3 kids, 3 dogs and yet finds time to do road trips with girlfriends, try out new recipes, read Harry Potter, and write amusing, brash and very frequent blog entries. I'm not sure anyone could really do so much and write so much, so I am tempted to create a Fibbin' Blogger Award, but let's give her the benefit of the doubt, and stick to Rockin' Blogger. Her blog is easy on the eyes, with pictures of gooey cakes, pretty fireworks, and semi-naked male film stars. Best of all, she's somewhere in the Midwest.

On with Rockin' Saturday!