The Book That Made My Babysitting Job Seem Incredibly Easy In Comparison

Sometimes I babysit for two kids who live down the road from me. They are incredibly lovely and sweet but boy do they have some energy. I think that I race around and have high energy but I am as nothing compared to small children. Such running! Such giggling! Such shouting!

But at least there aren't six of them. They're not identical. And King Alaspooryorick of Daneland has never once tried to invade anywhere in Cambridge, to my knowledge.

'I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW HARD BABYSITTING IS!' EXCLAIMED HOLLY. 'IT'S THE LAST TIME I LET MY SISTER PICK A SUMMER JOB FOR US.'

Not being funny but I wouldn't let my sister pick me ANY job. 

Holly and Anna are desperate to go on their dream holiday, but the only way they can is to babysit for six identical toddler Princes and their older brother Prince Pepino, all in the middle of an invasion by King Alaspooryorick. I knew it would be good since I've read Clementine's 'Sesame Seade' series and thoroughly enjoyed it, so I took this along to babysitting to garner some good favour. They loved the Cow, the porcupine grenade, and the Robotic Mermaids (not to give too much away), so at least we agree on some things, and they were so enthralled it was almost easy to get them to go to sleep afterwards. 

Shamefully, this has been sitting on my TBR pile since it made its way into my basket at Sainsbury's last November. Clementine's in-jokes and bright writing, alongside Becka Moor's really amazing illustrations - she completely communicates the sense of the book, and makes it so fun!- made it a slice of sun and good cheer in the middle of March - enough to make me willing to take on some more babysitting to provide for my own summer holidays.

'CAMBRIDGIA AND OXFORTH? NOTHING EVER HAPPENS THERE; THEY'RE THE MOST BORINGLY PEACEFUL PLACES IN BRITLAND.'

The Book That I Can't Stop Coming Back To

'THE CLAYR SAW ME, THE WALLMAKER MADE ME, THE KING QUENCHED ME, THE ABHORSEN WIELDS ME SO THAT NO DEAD SHALL WALK IN LIFE. FOR THIS IS NOT THEIR PATH'

I first read 'Sabriel' when I was about 12. I could say about it that Garth Nix is an engaging writer, the story rolls along, the characters are fascinating (especially Mogget) and the world in which it is set is drawn well, all of which I believe to be true.

It doesn't explain why I've come back to this book so many times. My mum has been known to describe it as my comfort blanket and I would go so far as to say I've read it more times than any other book (excluding Harry Potter texts).

I smuggled it to Cambridge after a term of my undergraduate. I read it brazenly in the car when I moved to Edinburgh, and kept it with me for reassurance. I delighted when it was finally put on kindle. And today I took it on the train with me as I came back from Manchester to Cambridge, and cried and cried as I left the hills and Sabriel received the bells and the bandoleer from her father.

There are two main reasons I love it so much.

One has to be Sabriel and her dad. We never know his name - he's always just the Abhorsen. But his love for Sabriel is true and kind, and even to the end, they're a team. To my dad, as well, who always has my back.

'They turned together and plunged out into Life'

The second reason must be the quote below. For someone who rarely knows what they want to do, whether in the big or the little decisions, these words consistently remind me, when I think on them, of the choices that we can make and the actions we can take to run our own lives, but also of the external factors which often force us to take a different direction. My life isn't settled yet, and in and of itself, it's comforting to remember that no-one knows anything for sure.

DOES THE WALKER CHOOSE THE PATH, OR THE PATH THE WALKER?

Is It Just Me?

To which I can confidently reply: no, Miranda, it is not 'just you'. It's me too.

Miranda and I have very similar facial expressions, actually.

So hello! And welcome to my first book review of this year. Yes, I am aware that I sound more than uncannily like Miranda when I say that. I recently expressed my desire to be half as brilliant as the televisual Miranda [TM] (as opposed to Miranda Hart [MH], authoress and portrayer of Chummy in 'Call the Midwife') and my sister N merely regarded me and said, "Well, you're halfway there" little expecting the joyful hug and bark of delight she received in response. It's true - I have been known to sing Beyonce ("To the left, to the left...") as a directional statement. It works brilliantly.

Perhaps I am not the most objective reviewer in this case, but I can say that I did really enjoy this book. As a matter of fact I raced my way through it today, making it the first out of (hopefully) two hundred that I will read this year (actually a fairly doable NYResolution, considering I read 133 last year without really going for it) and then had a whole hour in the swimming pool to think about it and start mentally drafting this review.

During that hour or so I did this

Warm up:
200m freestyle, 100m backstroke, 100m breaststroke

Main set:
200m free off 3mins*
100m I.M. off 1.50
300m free off 4.45
100m I.M. off 1.50
200m free off 3
(set repeated x 3)

Sprint set:
10x25 Belugas - so named as they give you the lung capacity of a small beluga whale. Swim underwater for half a length, emerge from water, sprint polo frontcrawl (head up, elbows high) to end. Breathe clinging to side for between 5-8 seconds. Rinse and repeat 10 times.

Warm down:
100m free. 100m backstroke.

Leg set**:
20 seconds at elbows out
30 seconds at hands on head
1 minute at arms out
30 seconds at hands on head
20 seconds at elbows out
9 jumps (right hand, left hand, both hands)
(set repeated x 5)

So safe to say I had plenty of time to think about 'Is It Just Me?' This is made more relevant by the fact that I had a serious case of lane rage due to the exceedingly slow male swimmer in front of me refusing to abide by swimming etiquette and let me overtake when necessary. 'Yes, Miranda, it's not just you,' I thought. 'It's definitely me too. It's not normal to contemplate swimming underneath someone just to get in front of them and really irritate them in the process. It's just not.'

See, the book may well be called 'Is It Just Me?' but the problem lies in the paradox of that title. Do I mean paradox? I think I do. Someone correct me if I'm wrong. The whole point is for us, as readers, to agree with Miranda - an authorial Miranda who appears to be a curious mix of TM and MH (see above) - that it is not, actually, just her, and that all of us experience those awkward moments where, as Hart says, one needs a 'manual. A Miranual!' to get through unscathed. Yet although these moments do occur, there are in fact several jarring incidences, which I refuse to believe are 100% true as they resemble her sitcom more than anything I have ever known to be actual life such as when she traps her skirt under the wheels of a swivel chair and is left pantsless in front of a panel of interviewers, where the reader thinks: 'No, Miranda - in this case it really is just you.'

I feel terrible saying that. Anyone who knows me well will know that I am not the most graceful of ladies. I have a tendency to embarrass myself incredibly well when libations have been taken. Often I am known to cackle loudly at awkward situations and sometimes even ensure they happen just so I can make 'hilarious' hand gestures - awkward turtle, anyone? But I just could not imagine some of these situations happening.

I was also not entirely enamoured with the constant popping up of LM, Little Miranda, a stylised 18 year old version of Hart, who dialogues with the present-day Miranda about incidents old and new. At times this felt a little stilted and I could not entirely get into it; but at other times, such as in the chapters about dogs, relationships, and beauty, I really thought it worked. Same goes for the dramatic script interludes - better in the small doses.

What Hart does really well, though, is a list. Oh, I love a good hilarious list. My tastes are simple, and were easily pleased when the ten best things about being tall were EXACTLY THE SAME as the ten worst things about being tall. And a pun. There are some excellent, unashamedly barefaced puns in this book, and a great sense of the jolly hockey sticks vibe that Hart has become known for.

Yet the best moments, the altogether shining lights, were when TM took a back seat and MH came out properly. The sincere and lovely writing in beauty, especially, was much more understated and the simple touches of humour rather than full-frontal assault was much appreciated. Miranda (for I feel I can call her that. I am altogether her imaginary best friend) really knows how to get down to the nub and gist of an idea without being rudely blunt about it, which I admire as a skill and as a writing technique.

As you can tell from this overly long blog post I have not yet mastered it myself.

On balance, the book is probably rated 7/10 for me. A bit too confused in its authorial sense, it seeks to fill gaps with humour which would serve better if it simply highlighted the all-round loveliness of Miranda's meaning, rather than being the meat of the writing. It did make me laugh rather a lot, and I did emerge thinking - 'No. It's not just you. I do love stationery...'

I promise the reviews will get better, I'm a little out of practice. Next one comes out on Saturday!

S xx

*um...so for non-swimmers, this means that you have 3 minutes to swim the 8 lengths and recover. Then you set off on the next thing.

**for non water-polo players, we spend a lot of time trying to strengthen our legs so that we can get out of the water higher to pass, catch and defend better. This means we have to kick like this, and doing leg sets with your hands/arms out of the water tends to make you better. But I'm still a rubbish player however many leg sets I do.