The Round Robin Letters E-Book

Simon Hoggart

• Herausgeber: Atlantic Books
• Kategorie: Ratgeber
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

Every Christmas, unwanted round robin letters, stuffed with news of young Chloe's nauseating excellence at - well - everything, the announcement of Janet's cousin's husband's friend's divorce, or the details of Terry's colonoscopy, accumulate on doormats. One day, Simon Hoggart decided to do something about it. He mercilessly presented the most eye-popping examples of such letters in his bestseller, The Cat that Could Open the Fridge, and followed it up with The Hamster that Loved Puccini, hoping he had put a stop to them. And yet the letters, booklets and photo-montages kept on coming. So here, to drive home his message, The Round Robin Letters brings together his two collections in an anthology that will have everyone choking with laughter on their Christmas pudding.

Leseprobe

Contents

Introduction

The Cat that Could Open the Fridge

A Little Diamond to Polish

The Stubbed Toe Blackspot

The Pyramids (Overrated)

The Cat that Could Open the Fridge

The Hairy Archbishop

Oh Dear, What a Plonker!

The Whole Darn Human Race

Dining Table for Sale. Any Offers?

Payment in Canned Goose Liver

The Hamster that Loved Puccini

The Peccadillo of Proud Parenthood

The Sin of Smug Self-Satisfaction

The Iniquity of Intemperate Information

The Melancholy Mawkishness of Misery

The Wickedness of Whimsy

The Sophistry of Sanctimony

The Vice of Vituperation

Introduction

DEAR ALL,

Well, what a busy year it’s been! Where to start? The main job, apart from looking after our amazingly talented children, enjoying luxury holidays in some of the world’s most exotic places – or crossing them on a very grumpy camel [!] – building a new conservatory, organizing our local opera festival (though I say it myself, to rather gratifying acclaim!) and being frequently promoted at work, has been producing the book you hold in your hands!!!!

To be frank, and to lapse into non-newsletter English, it hasn’t been that much work, since this consists of two books that have been published separately as hardbacks, The Cat that Could Open the Fridge and The Hamster that Loved Puccini. Cat was published in 2004, and Hamster the following year. They clearly touched a nerve. There can hardly be a family in the land that hasn’t received one of these letters, and there can hardly be a reader who at some time hasn’t uttered a cry of rage and despair before flinging them into the waste basket or recycling bin. The worst thing about any affliction is having to bear it alone, and I suspect the books had the remedial effect for many people of demonstrating that others were suffering too. Just knowing that can help relieve the pain.

I first started receiving round robin letters, or Christmas newsletters as some drearily persistent pedants insist they should be called, about ten years ago. (The modern usage of ‘round robin’, originally a shipboard petition, certainly dates back to the 1940s.) One phenomenon I’ve noticed is that some people hate them so much that it’s often not enough just to throw them away; they need to get them out of the house, which seems to be a form of exorcism. Some people even find that ripping them up is not an adequate response; they tape them back together before sending the results on. If the senders recognize themselves in the Guardian, for which I write a column, or inside the covers of this book, they think, so much the better. They deserve to be punished. Indeed, some readers demand that I name and shame the writers, though I think this would be unfair. They may be smug, boastful and self-regarding, or in some cases unhappy souls who want to inflict all their sorrows upon others – presumably on the principle that if a trouble shared is a trouble halved, then one wished upon 100 people is reduced in effect to 1 per cent. But they deserve their privacy. For that reason, all the names in these two books have been changed, though I have tried to reflect age and class. So a Tarquin in the original letter might become a Tristan but not a Wayne; Edith could be Doris, but not Sharon.

The first letters came to me at the Guardian, from readers who hoped I might describe the terrible effect they can have on some recipients. Sometimes this was possible, but not easy, given the constraints of a newspaper column. Frequently the effect of the letters is cumulative: academic success for the children is followed by a highly paid new job for the father, a wonderful trip somewhere expensive, and glad tidings about a new vacuum cleaner. Almost as often the reverse is true: difficulties at work are matched by troubles with teenagers, a camping holiday in France when it rains six days out of seven, and ongoing problems with the septic tank. Indeed, the title of The Cat that Could Open the Fridge comes from a 2,000-word letter in which the writer suffers almost every misfortune modern man can undergo – mostly medical, but including a broken-down car, a ride on the London Eye in mist and rain, and various mishaps befalling his children. Then at the end, he reveals that the family’s pet cat has learned how to open the fridge, so leading to every pet-owner’s nightmare: the animal that can help itself.

Some readers and friends thought a collection of the letters would work, but I was doubtful. Reprinting them in full would be as tedious an experience for people who bought the book as it had been for the original recipients. Yet many required lengthy contemplation to release the full horror, rather in the way that a fine wine needs time and space to breathe before it reveals its qualities. It was Jane Turnbull, now my agent, who spotted that a mixture of brevity and wordiness might work. I am very grateful to her for her ideas and encouragement, and to Toby Mundy, the head of Atlantic Books, for his encouragement, and money.

As I said, the book touched a nerve, and material continued to pour in. The result was a new book, The Hamster that Loved Puccini. The title came from a letter in which it was reported that a family pet who nibbled indifferently on its food while other operatic composers were on the CD-player, would leap on to his wheel and start spinning joyfully the moment ‘One Fine Day’ or ‘Your Tiny Hand is Frozen’ began. This was clearly a joke, or at least a coincidence, so the tale served to illustrate the way some round robin writers were becoming more self-aware, more ironic, anxious not to take themselves too seriously.

People often ask how these letters started. I’m not certain, but I’m pretty sure they began in the United States, where most social trends see the light of day. American families are often spread far and wide; folk will happily up sticks and move from Maine to New Mexico, Oregon to Florida, leaving behind family and close friends. The Christmas, or holiday newsletters, as they are generally known there, are perfect for filling in the gaps in people’s lives. If the writers have lived next door for more than fourteen years, then you want to know how Gwen is getting on in college and whether Frank’s new job worked out. A disproportionately large number come from the Commonwealth, and for the same reason. The tone varies from smug to slightly desperate: ‘Look, we made the right decision. Yes, we miss Nan, but it’s sunny almost every day, the kids spend every weekend at the beach, the wine is great…’ Everything is compared to the old country and the letters seek to validate the writer’s decision to abandon it.

When did they become so numerous? By a slow but steady growth, linked to the development of technology. (I like the fantasy of Mrs William Caxton writing the first ever round robin in 1477: ‘I haven’t seen much of Will lately – he’s been far too busy playing with his new German “printing press”. Boys and their toys, eh?’.) Centuries later, carbon paper in a typewriter would produce three readable copies, and two more which nobody could make out. The Gestetner or Roneo made it easy for people to make a ‘stencil’ which could then be rolled on to a drum and used to print as many copies as you wanted. But almost nobody had access to one of these at home. Then came the photocopier, which could be used at work, provided you didn’t make it too obvious. This meant that almost anyone – almost anyone with a middle-class office job, that is – could print off as many copies as they wanted quickly and easily. (The newsletter is very middle class; I can’t think of one I’ve read that clearly comes from a working-class family. That’s not to say that all the writers are well off; many are members of the nouveaux pauvres, working in less well-paid white-collar jobs, such as librarians and teachers.)

But of course it was the home computer that made mass production of newsletters both easy and satisfying. For the first time pictures could be reproduced properly (‘Jill in party mode! Pssst! Don’t anybody let on it was the big Five-0!’; ‘Harry, proud captain of the team which won the regional cup for under-11’s.’) Decorations appeared in the margins, their jollity sometimes in inverse proportion to the content of the letter, so that news of a painful hernia operation might be accompanied by laughing Santas and sprigs of holly. The home computer now means that you can run off endless letters at a keystroke: when the machine asks ‘Number of copies?’ you type in ‘100’, and go off to make a cup of tea. As it happens, almost nobody has 100 friends (or at least 100 people who want to know every detail of your lives, which is a different thing). That’s why so many wind up in the hands of people who really don’t want them. ‘I knew these people when they lived next door to my brother, 15 years ago. I have no interest in them or their lives or their four wonderful children…’ ‘I met this man at a conference in Derby when we had a couple of drinks together. Big mistake! It has condemned me to receiving this annual farrago of boastful nonsense.’

Self-publishing has been booming since computers made it so cheap. I have been sent one American letter in the form of a 200-page book. Some recipients take revenge. One family is so incensed by an arrogant round robin they get every year that they scrawl offensive remarks about the letter all over it. Then the next one to visit another city posts it back from there, so that the senders can never work out which of their unlucky readers is doing it. I feel slightly hurt on behalf of these people, although there is a simple remedy: stop sending the things.

Some people imagine it’s an age thing and that most of the letters come from the elderly and retired. That is not the case. The impulse to start sending often seems to come with setting up a first home. Some children start to help ‘write’ the family letter from birth, and in one terrible example here, while still in utero.

Again, people sometimes wonder which letters are most enraging. I’m afraid that, like all journalists, I often find that what is most annoying or disastrous makes the best material. It’s like the probably true tale of the hack in Northern Ireland who sees a massive bomb explosion and says, ‘Wow, great story!’ In the same way the more conceited or dementedly over the top a letter is, the more I relish it, even if it has made the original recipient gibber with rage. I suspect, though, that the worst of all are those from the proselytizing religious, most especially those who see God’s hand in all the good things that happen to them, and blithely ignore the pain and misery suffered by others. The implication that, if you share their faith, you too will have beautiful, clever children and take your holidays in the Maldives, is enough to drive anyone to homicide.

As the media pressure continues, a degree of self-awareness is creeping in. But the sheer quantity of letters seems to be as great as ever – if not greater, since more people are learning how to make use of their home computers. Every year I appeal for Guardian readers to send in their choicest examples, and every year several hundred arrive. Here are some recent – and like every other letter in this book, entirely genuine – examples that came in after the first volumes were originally published. Children still have the starring roles in most missives: ‘Not only does Tami know how to spell words such as “bisect” and “exhaust” (year 4 key spelling skills) but she also knows many of her multiplication tables.’ We are not told how old Tami is – she might be seventeen, for example.

Sometimes parents hint at disappointments: ‘Harry has got a job working in a KFC in the motorway service station’ does not imply that the glittering prizes are in view. Or, of a teenager, ‘she is growing in confidence and can now take buses on her own.’ Some sad medical history there, perhaps. ‘Rowan has a part-time job working in a chic restaurant and gets to meet some of Newcastle’s A-list celebrities.’ I wonder who’s on the B-list?

Recipients remain just as cross. ‘I have met this woman twice in my life, and have never set eyes on any of the innumerable people mentioned in her wretched letter,’ is typical. An English couple living in Chicago list no fewer than 108 names in their letter. They lead a dizzying life amid the arts: ‘The year really began when we celebrated Mozart’s birthday.’ Another letter, from Yorkshire, mentions well over 100 people, including seventeen new ones in a nine-line passage. None at all are introduced or identified. ‘This is from a boyhood friend of my husband who we have seen perhaps twice in 40 years!’ protests one reader. The letter to this almost complete stranger includes details of an unpleasant operation: ‘a new procedure which entails shortening the bowel by cutting out a short section and stapling the two ends together’. Well, if you hit ‘Print 100’ lots of people have to be told.

Humour makes welcome appearances more often now. This chap’s wife goes with some friends on holiday to Morocco, ‘where a cocky young Arab offered 10,000 camels for her. Nothing like enough, but what would I do with more than 10,000 camels?’

On the other hand, senders still confuse whimsy with humour, and many continue to write as if from their pet. This is from Parker, a cat living in Lancashire: ‘Rite now i is sitting on Mary’s lap on the computer, diktating a nise letta to you all. I do not always like it when Mary is on the computer becoz i is not the centre of attention…’ The whole letter is spelled in similar style. Do they imagine anyone will finish it?

Another reader gets a letter every year in which the boasting drives him into something like a cardiac-inducing fury. ‘I once accidentally tuned into Gardeners’ Question Time and there was the writer herself. “I have an enormous garden of 23 acres. Could the panel advise?”’

Others feel unable to skate over the fact that their lives may not be packed with excitement. ‘I am head of information systems, and the team bought me a nice cake for my 49th birthday.’ A couple living in the Midlands pay a visit to Tewkesbury, ‘where we visited a fascinating carpet shop’. In October, they joined neighbours for a trip to Wales. ‘We were just one hour from home when the bus broke down. We were only one hour late, so it could have been worse.’ Small pleasures lodge in some people’s minds – some very small. ‘In April we went to Finsbury Park and looked at grandmother’s old house.’

Misery remains a favourite theme: ‘Jim started the year badly with appendicitis, then Stuart’s arm was in plaster when he missed the landing mat during the high jump. Terry ended up with an infected elbow and Olly started treatment on a rugby injury (still not sorted). After the summer holidays, Stu broke his leg (rugby). Within five days Mum had a heart attack (better now), my sister needed her head stitching, Olly was stung by a jellyfish, and our dog needed an emergency op.’

But that is all jolly fun compared to the ‘irksome and sad events’ suffered by another family. The wife, whose hobby is ballroom dancing, is nearly made redundant, and her new job at the firm is not as satisfying as the old one. She and her husband go on a cruise, but it is cold and it rains every day. Their car is written off in an accident, one friend commits suicide and another dies of a heart attack. They get stuck on the M4 and so miss her funeral. And to top it all, ‘I have become a martyr to my knees. It rather spoils the picture when I twirl in my frothy dress and expose two thick elasticated knee supports.’

Exotic holidays and homes abroad still play a big part in the letters. This family from north-eastern England went to Mongolia, where ‘we drank fermented mare’s milk, ate roast marmot, and experienced the humbling hospitality of those who have nothing but share everything. Other highlights included a Buddhist temple and meeting Brian Blessed.’ Eh?

And, of course, some regard their round robin as a direct mail shot. One couple from Devon bought a flat by the sea in Montenegro, and enclose the brochure, which records, ‘as a friend, you will receive a 10% discount (5% extra in second week)’. Thanks!

A final word on how the book is organized. Cat is divided roughly into subject matter, with a quote from a particularly choice letter as the title of each chapter. So, the little diamond is yet another dazzlingly successful child, the pyramids (overrated) head the travel section, and of course the cat that could open the fridge is about all the misery that humanity is heir to.

Hamster was organized in a slightly different way. I noticed how the same unforgivable traits afflict round-robiners, so it seemed sensible to group the letters into seven categories of various ‘sins’, such as mawkishness, whimsy, sanctimony and smug self-satisfaction. Some, of course, are guilty of all seven.

I do find all these letters fascinating, even those which don’t provide a usable quotation. For a nosy parker like me, it’s a little like walking down a residential street in autumn, a time when curtains are still open but lights go on in front rooms, providing a brief tableau (it’s important not to stare in) of other people’s lives: a family watching TV, a row, a young couple together, or an elderly couple dancing to an unseen gramophone. I hope you enjoy these glimpses into the lives of others as much as I do.

The Cat that Could Open the Fridge

——

A Little Diamond to Polish

IF THERE IS one thing that is absolutely guaranteed to enrage the recipients of round robin letters, it is news of other people’s wonderful children. Why do these paragons never seem to fail their exams, throw teenage tantrums, or hang out with unsuitable friends? Why do they spend so much time on their schoolwork and their musical instruments (including, in some cases, ‘flugelhorns’, heaven help us), and why do they never spend time slumped in front of Neighbours, or a computer game? How is it they always get to their first choice university, and never have to settle for a former polytechnic because they got two Cs and a D? Surely some of them do drugs, or at least go binge-drinking? Why do they seem so much better, so much more unutterably perfect, than our own children?

Not all of them, of course, and a very few round robins include brats and teenage nightmares. But it would be hard to keep the contents of such a letter from the eyes of the children themselves, and so many writers think too much honesty might be unwise. Instead, natural parental pride and the desire of middle-class families to encourage their offspring means that we, the readers, are furnished with almost exclusively happy news. It is most people’s experience of teenagers that they must be even more embarrassed by the buckets of praise tossed over them than they would be by criticism. What seventeen-year-old would risk another seventeen-year-old reading about their devotion to academic work or, come to that, the Grade V in a musical instrument played by only seven other people in the entire world?

JACQUELINEour eldest daughter will be ten in February. She is kind and gentle and cares for anyone who is sad… she has wonderful perception. Her sister Luciana is eight. She is a live wire – wants to be doing something every minute of every day. Art and craft are her particular passions. She has thick blonde hair with big blue eyes. She has plenty of personality and at the end of a rough or a long day her energizing hugs are the best medicine I have ever known.

IN MARCH, Kati gained distinction for Grade IV theory and is currently awaiting the result of Grade V flugelhorn.

LEXIEsettled into school from Day One, has made crowds of friends, and is more than surviving. Academically, I caught her reading her Latin textbook the first weekend, as she wanted to know more about it…her grades have been brilliant. Poppy has just been a King in the school nativity play, which was the most brilliant nativity play I have ever seen.

Other people are pressed in to line up and join the chorus of parental praise.

HARVEYwas nine on August 1st, and commands serious respect at a daunting 5’2”. His teachers at his primary school have nothing but praise both for his achievements and his character. He completed his Amateur Swimming Association level 12 this summer… he began trombone lessons in September and already plays in the school band. In the Christmas performance, based on themes in the 1960s, he took on the role of Bobby Moore and was an enthusiastic participant in the Sheffield peace march.

TIMhas made a big impression at his new school, especially on the headmaster, who keeps having him in his study for a chinwag.

That was written without evident irony, which may say something about either Tim’s behaviour or the headmaster’s proclivities. Of course being the Leonardo of your day doesn’t necessarily mean you walk into the finest summer jobs.

JESSICAgot her A-levels (straight As) despite going to every party in NW London for the whole year, and has therefore got into her university of first choice, Bristol, to read Drama in 2004 – there were only two deferred places and over one thousand applicants! She even got a mention in the school newsletter! Broadway, here we come! First, she is working in W H Smith’s.

No child in these letters ever has to be dragged unwillingly to piano practice, or forced to pick up a detested musical instrument.

WHEREto start? Let’s start with little Titus who is turning into a very competent violin player. He is set for his first public performance at church over Christmas, and pleased as punch to be playing with the big ones. Terri’s church music group goes from strength to strength; Ariadne and Jolyon play regularly. Jolyon has a music scholarship from the education department and if we tell you that he has a special solo playing Lisa’s sax part in the Simpsons theme you’ll get a feel for how much he loves to play. It seems that when he picks up his sax it’s just an extension of his body. Where does Jolyon end and the music begin?

SOPHIEis a creature of habit, gaining a Merit in every music exam she’s ever taken. This year was no exception, with Merits of Grade 5 piano and flute. She also took her first dancing exam in July with Grade 3 Tap, for which she was awarded… yes, a Merit, with 81 per cent. This was something of a surprise to us, as the sentence ‘an elephant is a graceful bird’ has always sprung to mind with her.

HARDto believe that Tasha will be ten on the 9th! She still enjoys swimming, and will go and do thirty lengths. She plays both the piano and the clarinet, so the words ‘have you practised your piano and clarinet?’ are often heard in our house.

ALISONhas had a very musical year playing her trumpet in various bands and orchestras. She went off to Prague with a school music trip and has recently played in the Royal Festival Hall with our county schools symphony orchestra. She continues with her piano, ballet and Duke of Edinburgh award scheme, even though this is her GCSE year.

FELICITYis a passionate, compassionate eleven-year-old. She loves maths and sciences along with the arts and technology. She enjoys being a wandering minstrel, walking round the house, playing her violin.

But it’s never enough for these kids to be good at just one, or even three things.

MARTINsings so well he was made Head Chorister at school, and will be introducing the chamber choir at the concert hall in December. He is still learning the piano and flute. He still loves sport too and was delighted to hear the sports and music teachers fight over him to be Sports Captain rather than Head Chorister.

AMBERis now in full time school;she loves her school and literally runs to her classroom every morning. Early in the year she was awarded a merit badge for her class, and she has been chosen to play Mary in the upcoming nativity play. She will have the opportunity to sing a solo. Outside school she takes dance, music and swimming lessons and in her down time she always has a marker, crayon or paint brush in her hand. Our Christmas cards this year were entirely designed by Amber.

All that from a five-year-old. But there is no end to the talents of our writers’ children.

HARRYwas ‘Jesus’ in the school ‘Jesus Christ, Superstar’. This was the best production I have ever seen, youth or adult. The organization is wonderful and all the children gain so much. Both boys, especially Harry, were physically and emotionally drained at the end of it. I was drained too – seeing your son crucified nightly is not an experience I would recommend – especially when he calls out for his mother!

When they tackle sport, these children naturally make it almost to the top.

GREGhas also been chosen for the school rugby team, partly we believe because he has no fear.

Some readers have sent me whole series of letters from successive years. This has enabled me, for example, to keep up with Amy’s astonishing success in her girls’ cricket team, with detailed descriptions, season by season, of how many runs she scored and how many wickets she took. Girls in particular are now into boys’ sports.

CASSANDRAmade a great start in secondary school this year. Better than we could have hoped for. Her number one sport continues to be soccer. She also signed up for water polo, which necessitated being at the pool 7 a.m.on Monday mornings. (I was thrilled, being the morning person I am. Ha ha!) She joined the school concert band and jazz band. Having played the alto sax for ten years, she was also asked to play the tenor sax, so she heads off to band practice with a sax in each hand. She has made a lot of friends and is popular in her year… she again played soccer in two teams through the winter, with the boys’team on Saturdays and girls on Sundays. One of the boys paid her the ultimate compliment when he told his Dad ‘we’ll be in trouble today as Cassie won’t be playing.’

JACQUImanages to train as a surgeon while fitting in diving trips to Thailand, Cayman, Cuba and the Red Sea. We’ve told you about Tori’s sporting prowess, and at number 5 in the world, she is not doing badly!

THE BOYShave a heavy training schedule. They also have a hamster.

The recipient wrote in the margin of that letter: ‘no doubt soon to be entered in the World Hamster Wheel speed championships.’ Of course these happy children do have a lot of help from their supportive, or perhaps at times oppressive, parents.

NATASHAcontinues at our local university in political science. She is devouring history and politics and this year took on Spanish, as she is planning a trip to Latin America next summer. To give her a helping hand, I hired a cleaning lady from El Salvador, so she can have some conversation practice.

Possibly learning how to shout, ‘and why is my bed not made at 4 in the afternoon?’ in faultless Spanish.

Not only do these children have a tremendous cultural and intellectual life, but their diet is pretty near perfect too. No worries about childhood obesity among these dietary paragons:

SHE ISincredibly fit and lean, eats virtually no sweets, loves Granny Smith apples, and drinks loads of fruit juice.

WE MUSThave one of the most varied and healthy diets of anyone in the country – though chilli, coriander and ginger do tend to turn up rather more often than potatoes. Jack and Lulu would like to be reminded what a chip is!

Oh, I don’t know. I suspect the occasional sneak visit to McDonald’s for Jack and Lulu, on the way home from school.

Sometimes there’s just so much going on, it’s hard to cram it all into one letter:

IN MARCH, Stephanie passed her Grade 5 ballet exam with flying colours and Richard appeared in a concert with the newly named Compagnie des Chansons… we were in the village production of As You Like It. I played Phoebe (a heartless shepherdess) and Stephanie sang beautifully… in July Stephanie passed her Grade 4 piano exam, with merit, and Peter spent his last few days at primary school. He rounded off the summer term with a snarlingly wonderful performance as the Sheriff of Nottingham. He had great fun in his solo, pushing over schoolmates and stealing flowers from little girls… in November, Peter appeared in another wonderful Chansons concert. Stephanie has just taken her saxophone Grade 5 – we await the results.

And we know exactly what those results will be, without having to wait, with bated breath, for next year’s letter.

It is certainly true that if the children of people who send round robins were any kind of guide, there would be no problems at all in our educational system.

WE HADa fleeting but memorable breakfast at Heathrow as Isobel flew out and Holly flew in. Memorable because we had with us, unopened by order, Holly’s GCSE results, 5 As and 5 A*s. Celebrating at Heathrow is not our usual style, but we managed it pretty well!… Holly’s summer was one of contrasts. France and Spain with Dickon (Purdue) on a shoestring, in the course of which she acquired and hauled back 5lbs of volvic honey in her rucksack. This was followed by a fortnight languishing on expensive yachts in the Aegean with other beautiful women and apparently rather engaging young men. She was impressed by three things: the earthquake (6.7 on the Richter scale), which she was at the centre of; the lifestyle, which she found agreeable, and the fact that she knew more poetry than the Poet Laureate’s son, who was one of the engaging young men.

Many layers of tooth-furring smugness are slotted in there! The letter even includes footnotes, in this case a reminder of the hilarious time that someone in the family brought back fifteen gallons of Greek olive oil – as hand baggage!

Sometimes things do go just a little wrong. Nobody wants horrid things to happen to children, though it can be hard to stifle a smirk:

JACKis continuing with his bagpipe playing and at the moment the house is very quiet, as he is away training and racing in Italy and Austria. His skiing is coming on well and the highlight was being chosen for the regional ski team. He skied in the International Cup in Turkey where he managed to get an individual bronze medal and was part of the team which won the gold medal for the first time. He also managed to be in a lift which was overcrowded and crashed down a number of floors in Istanbul, but that is another story.

Schools exist primarily to reflect parents’ views of their own children.

AMELIAcontinues to learn how to play the trumpet, has taken up drama, represents the school in a host of sports, and even copes with cross country running without too many murmurs of disapproval. At a recent parents’ evening, it was good to hear how well she is thought of by all her teachers.

This is from a British family living in the US.

ELEANORis a ‘straight A’student, excelling in maths and science, but also a truly good all-rounder. She is playing clarinet and was recently accepted by our local youth symphony orchestra. This was an amazing achievement as she is the only twelve-year-old in the orchestra and the youngest by three years… Melanie is also doing incredibly well. She was recently tested and although she’s still just eight, was shown to have a reading age of twelve. At a recent parent/teacher meeting I asked the teacher if there were any areas of weakness with Melanie that we should be working on, and her reply was ‘no, you’ve given me a little diamond, and all I have to do is polish it.’

You might imagine that the return to the UK after time in America might be difficult. Not for our writers’ offspring!

LEOand Cassie had a busy year, which started with sitting exams for UK schools (groan!). They continued to play American Youth soccer (football), both reaching their respective finals. Their karate has improved tremendously, standards in the UK being much more exacting than in the US… Leo has continued with guitar lessons and Cassie is in a local drama programme. They got excellent reports from their school in Philadelphia, and have made a great return to school life in the UK. Way to go, Leo and Cassie!

Such wonderful offspring keep at it. They don’t let leaving school, their first great arena of achievement, slow them down one bit.

ELIZABETHis in her final year at Oxford and is president of her college law society. She hosted the annual dinner, with Cherie Booth as guest of honour. Ms Booth was extremely charming, but gave an earnest and boring half-hour speech. So Elizabeth had an easy job bringing the evening back to life, and managed to make the honoured guest squirm, on three occasions. Lizzie also spent the summer in Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand.

Of course you know that this account must have come from Elizabeth, the latter-day Cicero, herself. I wonder if Cherie Blair got a thank-you note for her time and trouble.

If nearly all children are perfect, grandchildren can attain almost celestial levels of beauty, grace, skill and adorability. Round robinners love their exclamation marks, or as journalists call them, ‘screamers’. Some letters resemble the shower scene in Psycho:

PATSYis now fine, and in all our eyes the cutest, cleverest, and most advanced baby in the world!!!!!!!! Just recently she made her first trip to Burnley, flying up with her Mum and Aunty, loving every minute of the long wait in the airport!!

PATRICKis nearly as tall as I am (which is not difficult!!) and Pam was overwhelmed with the praise she received about him at parents’ night. Is there anything he doesn’t do well for his age? The answer is no.

SHE ISa complete joy and apart from the first 6 weeks when she hardly seemed to sleep has been an angel-child ever since, full of smiles and giggles, rarely crying, sleeping through the night, eating anything and everything that we offer her. What have we done to be so blessed??!!

Sold your souls to Beelzebub, most parents would guess. Actually this letter radiates considerable smugness, the writer adding on the next page:

CAN ITget any better than this? Living in a lovely house with ‘my girls’ in a great village community, with a pub which brews and sells award-winning beer…

With some parents, a brief description of their offsprings’ limitless virtues can never be quite enough. This is about a newborn infant (‘the most adorable personality we could ever have wished for’).

FOR THOSEof you who have access to the Internet, Josh has his own website, where you can view the latest pictures and video clips of him. Just go to www… and follow the instructions. Email us if you have any problems.

‘Yes, your perfect child keeps appearing on my screen as a popup!’ possibly.

But all is not without flaw in our letter-writers’ Eden. Sometimes children fail to come up to the high standards expected of them. This, however, can rarely be admitted, since, as we have noted, the disappointing children might read the letter. Writers have to skirt around the topic.

HENRYdelighted us all by getting a first at Wadham. Tibby has gone the Cambridge route, and has just started to read Economics at The (!) Queen’s College. Susie, well, she is our joy and our delight, bringing happiness and laughter into our lives.

Oh dear, learning difficulties there, we suspect. Similar problems seem to have afflicted this family:

THE CHILDRENare all thriving. Jack is doing wonderfully well at prep school, India continues to excel at ballet, and Tara is riding, both passing exams and winning competitions with flying colours. Xanthe is eccentric and charming and keeps me smiling. [uh oh] Kinvara talks incessantly and is a guinea-a-minute! [another euphemism, I fear] There is never a dull moment, specially since I dispensed with the nanny in February!

Or

EUANis doing well at everything he attempts, swimming, football, martial arts, Beavers, and somehow fitting in schoolwork, to great effect. All that, and only six. Archie is the light in the darkness. A more contented, animated, and lovable child we have yet to find.

Again, you wonder what we are not being told.

Here’s another, making it plain which child has performed its duties to the parental satisfaction. Note how the writer has explained precisely how SATs work, so that everyone can appreciate fully the attainments of at least one daughter.

HARRIETis sailing through school – works hard and gets brilliant grades. I saw the entire year’s results as they came to the junior school. She was one of four children, in a year of 250, to get two level sevens and one eight in her year 9 SATs (that is the highest possible these days). She was also the only one to get more than one level eight in her grades for the year, and she got five. For those of you who are ‘out’ of education, that is what you are expected to get when you take GCSEs, which is in two years’ time. That is my boast for this year. She is also lovely, which is far more important (whoops, that is another boast!). She has written something which is being used for the Cathedral service I mentioned earlier. Luke is plodding, still struggling to overcome dyslexia and dyspraxia and Lauren plays schools when she is not at the real thing! Harriet is in the schools’ symphony orchestra, and was selected by the county to try for the national orchestra…

Don’t you feel so very sorry for Luke and Lauren?

Often letters hint at something the writers do not wish to relive:

ROSEthankfully ditched her boyfriend, who was causing us so much trouble last year.

TAMSIN, eighteen, is doing so, so well. She is nearly double the weight she was two years ago.

With so much achievement, so many successes, the orchestras and sports stadia of Britain being filled with the children of our round robinners, it seems awfully unfair that for a minority – admittedly a tiny minority if these letters are anything to go by – things can go wrong.

TOBY’Slife never seems to be straightforward. In addition to his pain – he is waiting for an operation to sever some of his nerves – he has suffered harassment from a previous girlfriend on the course which has, alas, severely affected his relationship with the other students and did not help him in dealing with his pain. He has no shortage of admirers, but is trying to be very choosy after his latest problems. He is looking forward to leaving Loughborough University – sadly he has recently had to resign from the special police force there.

This, after lavish praise of several siblings:

PORTIAis a different matter. She is a hedonist, does not like hard work, and has an inflated idea of her own achievements.

But at least she sounds nicer than her parents. Sometimes children can let you down in the most unexpected ways.