Not War and Peace

Well, you can’t say that I haven’t warned you – twice. If you’ve come to this site expecting to see some great Russian literature, then you are doomed to disappointment. I’m sorry about that, but  it might actually be for the best. After all, if you couldn’t figure out from the title of this blog that Tolstoy will be amongst the missing, then you were probably never going to get on with all those plots and sub-plots and complicated names.

Anyway, welcome.

But to what? That’s a very good question. I so wish I knew what the answer to it was. I suppose, now that we have established what this isn’t, it’s time to figure out what it is.

For a start, it’s my friend Harriet’s fault. She has just been visiting and was unrelentingly nagging me about writing a blog. I have to say, her actions were totally out-of-character. She normally reacts better to not being fed until midnight and having to sleep in a room filled with dog hair. Of course, those aren’t the reasons she gave for her bizarre behaviour. She said it is because she wants me to practice writing and to get some feedback on what I write. Apparently she is tired of hearing me talking about the book I am going to publish and wants to start seeing some positive action towards that end. I have no idea why she thinks this will help. Or who, for that matter, she thinks is going to be reading this. I suppose that rational judgment is one of the first things to go when you are lacking in food and covered in dog fuzz. Perhaps there is a lesson to be learned by this. I do, after all, have other friends who stay here from time to time. Wouldn’t want them all to go rogue.

Meanwhile, the deal is that I will write a blog, once a week, for a year. She, for her part, will get people to read it. If, over the course of the next 52 weeks, you happen to sit next to a determined looking woman with well-defined eyebrows and dangly earrings……run.

So, here we go.

I am assuming that anyone who reads this (hello, both of you) knows who I am and all about me. If, however, there is someone else out there who has happened upon this by chance or mis-chance, here are the highlights:

I live in London. I didn’t always do this. I grew up in New York, became an American diplomat, travelled around a bit and wound up here. I now have a British passport, a rather eccentric husband, two more-or-less grown up children and a business called FENS (www.fens.com), which tells the media what will be happening so they know what stories they want to cover and where to have their reporters and camera crews. We have most things from now until 2079 covered. That’s when a meteorite is due to strike the earth. We decided that there just wasn’t much point in going any further ahead than that. I know, most people don’t realise that such a service exists. Sadly. Feel free to click on the link and subscribe. I’ll give you my everlasting thanks and a personal credit in a future blog if you do.

Besides being a high flying media executive, I am also a Pet Nanny. In fact, I may be the world’s only high flying media executive and pet nanny. Aren’t you glad that you happened upon this blog? Thanks to Rupert Murdoch, everyone knows what media execs are, but for those of you who have yet to encounter a pet nanny, we are people who watch other people’s pets, mostly dogs, in their own homes, as part of their families. It’s not something that they tell you about at career evenings in school. That’s mostly because you can’t apply to become one, you have to be chosen. I fell into it because my husband is a Cub Scout leader. It’s a long story. If you are interested, I’ve written a book about it – From the White House to the Dog House. It’s also not War and Peace, but I had fun doing it.

In addition to the husband and children, I have two brothers, and their families,  an enormous number of relatives,  interesting friends, unusal neighbours, a motley collection of colleagues, friends with children and children’s friends, as well as  mere aquaintances and public figures, all of whom are grist to the story-telling mill. I also had two fairly remarkable parents and a very happy childhood. If you are looking for Angela’s Ashes, you’re in the wrong place.

I have a black belt in karate (I know, how amazing is that?) and have fairly recently completed a London to Paris bike ride, which is remarkable when you think about how fat and unfit I am. My hobbies are attempting to lose weight, cycling slowly, reading science fiction, watching rugby, trying not to get hurt at racquetball and writing nonsense.

That’s where you come in.

I really have no idea what to write about over the next 51 (aaaarghhh!) weeks. So, I am open to suggestions. Your choices are: my life, growing up in America, living in England, being a pet nanny, the weird people I know, whatever else takes your fancy.

Let me know what you would like to hear about, and it’s yours. How often in life do you get a choice like that?

So, I’ll look forward to hearing from you (assuming, of course, I can figure out how to post this).

Until next week…

Not Leo Tolstoy