William Dalrymple, City of Djinns: A Year in Delhi

Written in the early ‘nineties, and describes an India so different from my experience - an economic backwater, loads of bureaucracy stifling the country, no young and thrusting middle class. Although, for all I know that’s still true of Delhi today, I’m just used to a very different India that’s not representative of the whole. A great read though, particularly on recent Indian history and the awfulness of partition.

Helen went back to work after maternity leave yesterday. It’s a necessary economic evil, unfortunately. Lib doesn’t seem to mind at all, she’s settled into nursery fine. However, Lib and Fred were in the bath yesterday when Helen came home, and Libby couldn’t control here excitement when she heard the knock on the door. It was like she’d had an electric shock of ‘MUMMY!!!’ Then half an hour later she threw up all over Helen, so couldn’t go into nursery today. One day in, and Helen has to take a day off to look after a sick child. It’s such a beautiful day, it’s tempting to think Helen engineered it. I didn’t actually see Libby throwing up after all, I just rushed upstairs when I heard the commotion and there was Helen, Lib, our bed and the remote control all covered in vom. It could so easily have been staged. . .

George R R Martin, A Storm of Swords: Steel and Snow

Read most of this on the train up and down to Derby for Mothers’ Day. Helen, Freddie & Libby went up on Friday, so I had Friday and Saturday to myself. Friday evening I weighed up making a giant crème egg with an easter egg and some fondant, but in the end just sat in with a massive bag of popcorn and bar of chocolate and watched Trollhunter, I’m such a Scandinavian groupie at the moment, like all Guardian readers. I can’t stop listening to First Aid Kit either. Saturday I was going to go for a run, but it was raining and I had toothache, so that didn’t happen. Went up to the Hajj exhibition at the British Museum and jumped the queue. It was full of Islamic Cub packs who were initially dumbfounded by the statement that early pilgrims travelled across the desert in ‘caravans’. Then down to the London Review of Books Tea Shop for a lesbian-prepared veggie lunch with fairtrade coffee while doing the crossword, followed by a browse through the books. Then found a pub near St Pancras to watch the Rugby (A Welsh Grand Slam!), and then an early supper in Carluccio’s before boarding the train with a good book and some Gs & T. What a perfect day for a ponce like me. F & L had a fun time in Derby, Libby is staying on her feet longer and longer, and Freddie and I just tore around the house playing catch, Hide & Seek and Musical Chairs. I tire long before he does.

I can’t stop reading these books now. It’s nice to have something to talk to Kevin about and I do actually care about some of the characters, particularly the dwarf Tyrion Lannister. The Stark kids and their pet wolves wandering from peril to peril across the continent is getting a bit tiring now though, hopefully they’ll all find each other soon and that’ll be an end to it. I expect not.

James Charles Roy, The Vanished Kingdom: Travels Through the History of Prussia

This was a strange book. It was a Christmas Present, but I was after Norman Davies’ ‘Vanished Kingdoms’. It’s written by an American author, but was more of a travelogue than a history. The historical sections could have been cribbed from anywhere, and it almost seemed to be more about the author’s journey of discovery than anything else. At one point one of his interviewees mentions the Memel, and the author explains he had never heard of the Memel. Well, why do you feel qualified to write about the history of East Prussia then? Would someone who had never heard of the Rio Grande be qualified to write a history of the US? Some who had never heard of the Pyrenees write a history of France. Grrr.

Fred seems to have moved on from steam engines now to Cars, from the film ‘Cars’. He does a pretty passable American accent for Lightning McQueen and Sally Porsche. The little toys are a tenner each, so we’ve bought a bulk lot, which are now under the stairs for distribution in return for medals. The current rate of exchange is 6 medals per car. In the meantime, I’m left with a massive box of wooden engines at the bottom of my cupboard. Let’s hope Libby likes toy railways. . .

George R.R Martin, A Clash of Kings: Book 2 of A Song of Ice and Fire

The second in the series, and I’m rather enjoying them. Kev lent the third to Steve though, and now no-one knows where it is, so I may have to wait. Plenty of other books to be getting on with in the meantime. I’ve had to start doubling up on the ‘Books Inward’ Bookshelf of unread books that’s outside the bathroom, although there’s some stuff that’s been there for years like Robert Caro’s biography of LBJ in his Congress years and Christopher Hibbert’s biog of Wellington that may never be read. Libby can walk holding just one hand at the moment, and we spent yesterday wandering around Windsor with her making a bee-line for every dog or thing that she can post through a hole in another thing. Everything in Lib’s world seems to be divided into things that can be posted, things into which one can post things, and other stuff, with the third category resulting in a total lack of interest from Elizabeth.

Helen, Freddie and Lib went on an open-top bus tour of Windsor while I was running, and Freddie got very excited when they went over Albert Bridge, as he knew it from one of his lullabies, The Pogues’ ‘Misty Morning Albert Bridge’. Not the same bridge unfortunately, and he mystified Helen with his comment, but it’s nice to know he listens to the lullabies I sing. . .

Mark Mazower, The Balkans – from the End of Byzantium to the Present Day

This must have been designed for A Level History or Undergraduate studies, it’s such a concise, clear little book. I wanted more, although it’s great as an introduction. A little light reading before embarking on the second part of George Martin’s fantasy epic to please Kev.

Everyone in the family is so ill at the moment. Poor Lib has an ear infection, and keeps sticking her finger in it to make it worse. Added to her insistence on feeding herself and covering everything with toast and pasta sauce she is a messy messy baby. Fred is just very quiet, although Calpol turns him into a Tasmanian Devil for a few hours. When he comes down though, he crashes. A good guide to how well he is feeling is how often sentences still end with ‘smelly socks’. Helen’s had quite enough of it all and made us all go out for fresh air yesterday. Now we all feel worse. . .

It’s put my running back quite a bit, which is very disheartening as I’d just set a new PB for 10K (53 minutes) before this all started. I’ve hardly run now for three weeks, although I do have a cross country 10K on Saturday morning, so hopefully I’ll be fit for that. Need to do sub 2 hours on the Reading Half Marathon on 1^st April. . .

Diary of a Nobody by George Grossmith and Weedon Grossmith

How embarrassing that I’ve never read this before. It was a much more touching portrait of the self-important Mr Pooter than I’d imagined. Yes, he was a frightful snob, prig and penny-pincher, but he was also gentle, honest and truly loved his family. What a great picture of the English Man. I laughed out loud at some of his humiliations and the cosmic trials sent to test him. Particularly the bootscrape. Freddie is currently finishing every sentence with ‘smelly socks!’ which I probably shouldn’t be encouraging. I’ve tried changing it to ‘stripy socks and chunky chocolate!’, but it’s not taking. His lullabies at the moment are mostly old Pogues songs, with some of the lyrics subtly changed. ‘Misty Morning Albert Bridge’ seems to be a particular favourite, but is very difficult to sing. Libby is not quite walking yet, but is built like a prop forward.