Happy Christmas - but Not Yet!

Walking into town on Saturday to pick up a bit of food shopping I wandered into Marks & Spencer's Food Hall to find that they had rearranged everything. So that they could display all their Christmas food stock. On the 15th October. Then, walking past the Argos Superstore I saw that there was a large Snowman Christmas decoration in the window for sale. Tescos are beginning to display their Christmas stock already as, I noticed yesterday, is Woolworths and WH Smith. There are also a lot of really interesting looking recipe books just published over the last few weeks. Why? Just in time for Chrismas.

Please, everybody. Not yet! It's still only mid-October.

Every year it is the same. It is possible to start Christmas shopping virtually from when the schools start their Autumn term and the result is that by the time Chrismas arrives everyone is heartily sick of the whole idea of Christmas. When I was a girl (ye gods, I've started to say that!) the run-up for Christmas used to start after Guy Fawkes night and that was too early but over the last few years it has started much earlier. I know the retail pundits are complaining that the retail trade has subsided recently and shops are just not not selling as much as they used to but that is no excuse to try to start Chrismas shopping earlier. In fact when It gets near Christmas I just don't go shopping in town at all. I buy virtually all my Chrismas presents, and most of the food we shall want, over the internet. Why get stressed searching the High Streets through all the crowds to look for what you want when you can buy the same thing for (probably) much less money and have it delivered to your door without any stress.

There is another thing about Christmas that always disturbs me and that is the way the season is depicted as a time when everyone HAS to have a really happy time surrounded by your family. The architype of both parents and a couple of children having a wonderful time with smily faces and enjoying being together is promoted and puffed up not only by the retail trade but also by the media as being the only way to be at Christmas. But life is just not like that. For a start there has been a significant change in the family demographic with over 50% of all marriages ending in divorce nowadays so that the architypal family is becoming more and more rare. Those torn asunder by divorce are made to feel especially isolated over the "festive season", separated from their loved ones. Then there is the fact that a very significant proportion of the population live alone and are just not part of a family. So they too feel isolated from the way people are "supposed" to be at Christmas. People face a season when they are made to feel that they have to be happy and surrounded by loved ones. No wonder the arrival of Christmas is dreaded by so many. Most are just made to feel alone and out of things. A season of joy? I don't think so.

Puy Lentil Soup with Bacon

6 oz Puy or green-brown lentils, rinsed
4 oz smoked streaky bacon or pancetta, derinded and finely chopped
1 tbsp sunflower oil
2 carrots, peeled and finely chopped
2 medium onions, finely chopped
2 celery stalks, trimmed and finely sliced
8 az (225g) tin Italian tomatoes
3-4 cloves garlic, crushed
3 pints (1.75 lires) vegetable stock
8 oz cabbage, finely shredded
2 tbsps chopped fresh parsley
salt and freshly ground black pepper

1. Heat the oil in a large pan and fry the bacon or pancetta until the fat starts to run. Then stir in the chopped carrots, onions and celery. With the heat fairly high mix together and cook until they are softened and slightly browned around the edges, stirring now and then.
2. Stir in the rinsed lentils and the tomatoes, then the crushed garlic. Stir everything together then pour in the stock.
3. As soon as the mixture comes to the boil, put the lid on and simmer, as gently as possible, for about 30 minutes. Then add the cabbage and cook for 5 minutes or until the cabbage has wilted. Season to taste. Just before serving stir in the chopped parsley.

Musings

Some months ago I watched a tv programme about archaeology, a favourite subject of mine, and they were talking about some australopithecine remains they had found along the banks of a river (can't remember where, I'm afraid). What stuck in my mind about this was that for once the archaeologists were absolutely certain how the individual had died - of toothache. They knew this because they could see in the jaw bone clear evidence that he had had an abscess on one of his teeth. As a result they thought that blood poisoning from this had caused him to fall into the river and then to die. This has rather been on my mind over the last week, since I developed a nasty abscess on a wisdom tooth. As a result I have just finished a weeks course of Amoxicillin and the strongest painkillers I was able to buy over the counter from the Chemists. Despite these the pain is still bad and I am still doing a wonderful impression of a squirrel carrying nuts just in the one cheek. Anyway, I am off to the dentist tomorrow to have the offending tooth removed - not a session I am looking forward to. I've had three other extractions and didn't like them - but at least I am hoping that I will end up with no more pain or infection (and can sleep again) .

Still the Stepdaughter has sent me something that really made me laugh. Look at this, starting with the description of the product on eBay and then going onto the Questions and Answers. Well worth it. Very funny.

What irritates me is the way that music "experts" automatically reject any piece of music that proves popular with the public. Phillip Glass's Violin Concerto was on Classic FM radio yesterday evening as I drove home fromthe Soft Furnishings Workshop. It is really a wonderful piece of modern music. Yet experts discount it because it is listenable and enjoyed by many. I know I am going to continue to believe in my own opinions on music, not on the opinions who think they know best. (We have it on CD and I am listening to it as I write. Excellent.)

I have recently been trying out a new soup recipe that the Husband and I have both decided is a success. It is Puy Lentil and Bacon Soup, from Delia Smith's book of Soups. A really good and very distinctive taste to the Soup and well worth doing again. I did have one problem though - trying to find the Puy lentils, the only ingredient I didn't have at home. I could find green lentils at the supermarket but not Puy ones. Eventually I found them at the health food stall at the local market where I was told that one cannot ask for Puy lentils by name as the name has been banned by the EU, as are all items named after specific places. Instead I have to ask for Dark Green Speckled Lentils. I will, however, have to make sure that I don't get given the ordinary green lentils in future as these are somewhat bigger and just don't have as much flavour. I will post the recipe for the soup here soon as it is well worth making.

Autumn is clearly here. We've had a fair amount of rain the last few days and a few leaves are beginning to turn brown, although most are still, thank goodness, green. But I notice that a few leaves on the Alemanchier Lamarkii are beginning to turn red. I just wish it would stay dry enough to mow the lawn which is getting a bit overgrown.

100 reasons why it's great to be a guy

1. Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat.
2. Movie nudity is virtually always female.
3. You know stuff about tanks.
4. A 5-day vacation requires only one suitcase.
5. Monday Night Football
6. You dont have to monitor your friends sex lives.
7. Your bathroom lines are 80% shorter.
8. You can open all your own jars.
9. Old friends don't give you crap if you've lost or gained weight.
10.Dry cleaners and haircutters don't rob you blind.
11. When clicking through the channels, you don't have to stall on every shot of someone crying.
12. Your ass is never a factor in a job interview.
13. All your orgasms are real.
14. A beer gut does not make you invisible to the opposite sex.
15. Guys in hockey masks don't attack you.
16. You dont have to lug a bag of useful stuff around everywhere you go.
17. You understand why 'Stripes' is funny.
18. You can go to the bathroom without a support group.
19. Your last name stays put.
20. You can leave a hotel bed unmade.
21. When your work is criticized, you don't have to panic that everyone secretly hates you.
22. You can kill your own food.
23. The garage is all yours.
24. You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.
25. You see the humour in 'Terms of Endearment'.
26. Nobody secretly wonders if you swallow.
27. You never have to clean the toilet.
28. You can be showered and ready in 10 minutes.
29. Sex means never worrying about your reputation.
30. Wedding plans take care of themselves.
31. If someone forgets to invite you to something, he or she can still be your friend.
32. Your underwear is $10 for a three pack.
33. The National College Cheerleading Championship.
34. None of your co-workers have the power to make you cry.
35. You don't have to shave below the neck.
36. You dont have to curl up to a hairy ass every night.
37. If you are 34 and single nobody notices.
38. You can write your name in the snow.
39. You can get into a non-trivial pissing contest.
40. Everything on your face stays its original colour.
41. Chocolate is just another snack.
42. You can be president.
43. You can quietly enjoy a car ride from the passenger seat.
44.Flowers fix everything.
45. You never have to worry about other peoples feelings.
46. You get to think about sex 90% of your waking hours.
47. You can wear a white shirt to a water park.
48. Three pairs of shoes are more than enough.
49. You can eat a banana in a hardware store.
50. You can say anything and not worry about what people think.
51. Foreplay is optional.
52. Michael Bolton doesn't live in your universe.
53. Nobody stops telling a good dirty joke when you walk into the room.
54. You can whip your shirt off on a hot day.
55. You don't have to clean your apartment if the meter reader is coming.
56. You never feel compelled to stop a pal from getting laid.
57. Car mechanics tell the truth.
58. You dont give a rats ass if someone notices your new haircut.
59. You can watch a game in silence with your buddy for hours without even thinking 'he must be mad at me'.
60. The world is your urinal.
61. You never misconstrue innocuous statements to mean your lover is about to leave you.
62. You get to jump up and slap stuff.
63. Hot wax never comes near your pubic area.
64. One mood, all the time.
65. You can admire Clint Eastwood without starving yourself to look like him.
66. You never have to drive to another gas station because this one is just too skeevy.
67. You know at least 20 ways to open a beer bottle.
68. You can sit with your knees apart no matter what you are wearing.
69. Same work, more pay.
70. Gray hair and wrinkles add character.
71. You don't have to leave the room to make an emergency crotch adjustment.
72. Wedding dress $2000, Tux rental $100.
73. You don't care if someone is talking behind your back.
74. With 400 million sperm per shot you could double the earths population in 75 tries, at least in theory.
75. You don't mooch off others desserts.
76. If you retain water, it's in a canteen.
77. The remote is yours and yours alone.
78. People never glance at your chest when you are talking to them.
79. ESPNs sports centre.
80. You can drop by to see a friend without bringing a little gift.
81. Bachelor parties whomp ass over bridal showers.
82. You have a normal and healthy relationship with your mother.
83.You can buy condoms without the shopkeeper imagining you naked.
84. Youneedn't pretend your 'freshening up' to go to the bathroom.
85. If you don't call your buddy when you say you will, he won't tell your friends you've changed.
86. Someday you will be a dirty old man.
87. You can rationalize any behaviour with the handy phrase 'Fuck it'.
88. If another guy shows up at the party in the same outfit, you might become lifelong buddies.
89. Princess Di's death was almost just another obituary.
90. The occasional well-rendered belch is practically expected.
91. You never have to miss a sexual opportunity because you are not in the mood.
92. You think the idea of punting a small dog is funny.
93. If something mechanical doesn't work, you can bash it with a hammer and throw it across the room.
94. New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet.
95. Porn movies are designed with you in mind.
96. You don't have to remember everyones birthdays and anniversaries.
97. Not liking a person doesn't preclude having great sex with them.
98. Your pals can be trusted never to trap you with 'So notice anything different?'
99. Baywatch.
100. There is always a game on somewhere.

My stepdaughter sent me this. Goodness knows where she found it as it is clearly American. And I don't understand No. 49 at all.

Thud!

After due consideration I’ve come to the conclusion I am in love. With a fictional character. Who wouldn’t be, when the fictional person in question is Sam Vimes.

He’s a fascinating character is Sam Vimes. By the start of Terry Pratchett’s latest book Thud! He has evolved from a man coming from a poverty stricken background and a complete alcoholic to being one of the most powerful men in the City, now Commander of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch and also the Duke of Ankh, married to one of the richest women in Ankh-Morpork and “as rich as Creosote”. He has the heart and mind of a true policeman, constantly trying to keep the city in some sort of order, not easy as it is run as irrationally as anywhere you could possibly think of. Members of the City Watch comprise virtually every species living in Ankh-Morpork, including humans, trolls, dwarves, vampires, a werewolf, a golem, a gnome, gargoyles, an Igor and even Nobby Nobbs (who carries a paper confirming he is a human being). Sam Vimes is determined to keep the city under control and to protect it whenever necessary. He is full of anger against the universe and prepared to do anything to keep the peace and will arrest anyone, whatever the odds against him. This includes thieves, political criminals, the Patrician (Ruler) of the City, both sides when Ankh-Morpork was at war with one of its neighbours as well as a Dragon. He also has a true understanding of the humanity in all people, whatever their species.

This is the background to the start of Thud!. In addition to all the other demands on the City Watch the anniversary of the Battle of Koom Valley is approaching and both sets of participants of the Battle, the dwarves and the trolls, have every intention of celebrating the fact. But there has also been a murder of a dwarf to clear up. And, with all these distractions Sam Vimes knows that every evening at 6.00 pm he has to be home to read “Where’s My Cow?” to his 14 month old little boy. So, he has questions to resolve. Why was the dwarf killed and by whom? Why are there deep-down dwarves in the City? Will he get home to read to Young Sam every night? And just who did win the Battle of Koom Valley?

Terry Pratchett combines a true understanding of humanity with a real sense of humour, His books, all of them, are incredibly funny and a joy to read. And I have read them over and over again as they are the type of books that you pick up something new every time you reread one. They are also kind books: he turns his spotlight of understanding on all characters, good, bad, or just brimming with humanity and the reader consider each character with compassion and understanding. The description of Lady Sybil Ramkin’s bedroom as seen by Sam Vimes in "Guards, Guards" after his first real fracas with a Dragon, where what Sybil is really like can be seen by the room in which she sleeps, is to my mind one of the most moving passages of the human condition I have read. Terry Pratchett’s books can be read on many levels – I have seen a posting that equates the deep-down dwarves in Thud! with the Asian-Muslim community in the UK. I am not entirely certain of that but I can understand why it was reached as others also see Pratchett’s works as allegories of life from: the story of Macbeth (“Wyrd Sisters”, one of his books about witches), the Internet (“Going Postal”, also a wonderful reference to the Royal Mail), War (“Jingo”, “Night Watch”) and the legend(s) of Father Christmas (“Hogfather” with Susan, another of my favourite characters, the grand-daughter of Death).

Terry Pratchett’s books are wonderful. I do recommend everyone reads them.

Vichyssoise Soup (a.k.a. Leek, Onion & Potato Soup)

4 large leeks, washed, split lenghthways and sliced finely
1 medium onion, chopped finely
2 medium potatoes, peeled and diced into small pieces
2 oz butter
1.5 pints vegetable stock
0.5 pint milk
salt & pepper

To garnish
1.5 tbsps chopped chives or parsley
2 tblsps cream or creme fraiche

1. In a large, thick based saucepan gently melt the butter. Add the leeks, potatoes and onion, stirring well so that they all get covered by the melted butter. Season with salt and butter. Put the lid on the saucepan and sweat the vegetables over a very gentle heat for about 15 minutes.
2. Add the stock and milk, bring to simmering point and simmer gently for 20 minutes until the vegetables are cooked. )Be careful not to have the heat too high or the milk will boil over.)
3. Cool the mixture slightly then puree it, either with a hand blender or in a liquidiser or food processor.
4. Add garnish to serve

This soup can either be served hot (Leek, potato and onion Soup) or cold (Vichyssoise Soup). Either is delicious.

This recipe originally came from Delia Smith's book on Soup, although I've made it so often I think of it as my recipe.

Up to London yesterday to buy some curtain fabric. I've just started a Soft Furnishing Workshop and last Wednesday evening was my first class. Following that I had to think what project to start off with and after some pondering decided that I would make some curtains for the main bedroom. This room has one wall with a window alongst a door that leads onto the patio at the back plus another (ordinary sized) window at right angles to it on another wall. I decided to make one set of ordinary sized curtains, plus a second set which would run from all along the back wall of the room right down to the floor. So I knew I would need a fair bit of fabric. The place to find the best selection is, of course, the John Lewis store in Oxford Street and so it was to there that the Husband and I set out.

After spending a fair amount of time looking around I decided on a curtain fabric with a pattern of lilac and light purple Iris flowers on a white background. How much yarn? 17.5 metres in all, plus the same length of lining fabric and the Header tape. When we set off for London the Husband was saying pessimistically "this lot is going to weigh a ton to get home". Fortunately I was offered the shop's delivery service, which I accepted. This was for delivery within 24 hours. OK, that was yesterday morning and at 7.00 pm today day the delivery has yet to arrive. I am not too worried, however. The class is not until Wednesday evening. If the parcel does not arrive by early afternoon I'll just pop down the road to the shops and pick up a metre of fabric, and accessories, and spend the evening at the workshop practicing making a cushion cover "professionally" (obviously I know how to run one up in a "home made" fashion).

What I don't understand is why curtain/furnishing fabric is becoming so difficult to find. The shops that used to sell it are still around - they just sell only ready-made curtains instead. That's why we went up to John Lewis, although their second floor used to be full of furnishing fabric and now has areas which sell ready-made curtains and other furnishing items. Obviously soft furnishing as a craft is dying out, probably because many just don't have to time to make their own curtains, cushions etc.

The Husband had his own agenda for going with me. He also started an adult education class last week - one in Interior Design on Thursday mornings. He is not deterred at being the only male in the class. Anyway, as a piece of homework they were given a black and white picture of a bedroom and asked to suggest colours to be used. He has really thrown himself enthusiastically into the challenge. I estimate that, compared to the amount of time I spent deciding what what sort of curtain fabric to buy, we must have spent at least four times as long looking at paints, curtain fabric ( a 20 cm sample was purchased), bedlinen (pictures of which I later had to download from the store's website and print off for him) and carpets (he got a free sample of his final choice). If he plans to do this for the rest of the 30 classes he can go up to London on his own. It was exhausting. (And what made it doubly trying is that looking at the samples this morning in daylight he has decided that they don't really match as well as he thought.)

Anyway, we were both shattered today and so we've taken things a bit easy. This means that he decided to burn a few CDs of collections of music, where all the songs are ones he would want to listen to at the same time, like us all most pop CDs have one or two songs you want to listen to a lot, compared to the rest that you only want to listen to occasionally (if at all)He has a fair number of CDs of pop music (although not as many as the 3,000 or so that he has of classical music). So, I've been unable to get near the computer all day until now, and have had to move piles of CDs off the computer table so that I could reach the keyboard.

One infuriating thing was that he wanted to buy a piece of music from iTunes, namely "Crying in the Rain" by Art Garfunkle and James Taylor (?). When I tried to buy this from iTunes they refused to sell it because it was "only available from their US store". Whatever happened to the World Wide Web?

Housework this morning and both cats promptly ran away from the vacuum cleaner. I wouldn't mind but if I'm out in the garden with the lawnmower they run towards me and I have to chase them away. They clearly don't understand which is the most dangerous machine.

I am exasperated about cuttings. The ones I took from a root cutting of my Chocolate mint plant are beginning to show and look really healthy. However, the ones from the French Tarragon have just died. Guess what? The Mint is hardy, the Tarragon - not at all. With our bad winter frosts the likelihood of it surviving outside is very small. SIGH

You Should Be Attentive Today

Do not go after the past,
Nor lose yourself in the future.
For the past no longer exists,
And the future is not yet here.
By looking deeply at things just as they are,
In this moment, here and now,
The seeker lives calmly and freely.
You should be attentive today,
For waiting until tomorrow is too late.
Death can come and take us by surprise--
How can we gainsay it?
The one who knows
How to live attentively
Night and day
Is the one who knows
The best way to be independent.

from the Bhaddekaratta Sutra

And something I need to remind myself regularly.

Art and Confidence

There was an article in The Times newspaper earlier this week which really made me think. It was written by Grayson Perry who recently started a weekly column in the paper's Arts section. In 2003 Grayson Perry won the Turner Prize, the UK’s premier modern art prize. At the time there was a lot of publicity about him winning the Turner prize (but that this publicity was aimed much more at the pink frock that Mr Perry wore to the award ceremony rather than his skills as a potter). Anyway, his columns in The Times are really thought provoking, the one this week is a case in point.

He was discussing the fact that so many people seem to rely on others to tell them what is actually going on, and especially what is beautiful and significant, as they lack the confidence to make up their own minds and to express their own views to the real world. He has a real point. Many seem to prefer to allow “experts” to tell them whether or not, for example, a picture or other work of art is a work of a genius or just a pedestrian work not worthy of real attention. Why can’t people make up their own minds? The answer? They do not have the confidence of their own opinions because they think that if they don’t make sure that what they are admiring is considered by “experts” to be a masterpiece then they are demonstrating their own “ignorance”. But why? The point is that personal views on what is beautiful, ugly or just striking are entirely subjective and will differ from person to person. The picture that you find as beautiful may well be different from the picture that I find really “speaks” to me. Even if you are a real expert at art and know what you are looking at your opinion does not make my own personal choice of art invalid. Surely the only thing that matters is the amount of enjoyment I feel when walking, for example, around an art gallery and find certain pictures that give me pleasure when I look at them.

I am not educated at all in art. But, to paraphrase the ultimate cliché, I do try to look at what gives me pleasure. One thing that just makes me smile however is a trip the Husband and I made to the National Gallery in London last year for an exhibition of pictures and drawings by Raphael. In the exhibition was one picture by Raphael’s father Giovanni Santi. Both of us really admired this picture and spent quite a bit of time looking at it. Interestingly Kenneth Clark, in his masterpiece television series “Civilisation”, describes Santi as a second rate painter. Ha! I have absolutely no intention of withdrawing my own personal opinion of that picture.

It is an odd thing. I lack self-confidence in many ways, especially socially, But where art is concerned I do know what I like.

A Decision is Made

Since I wrote the last entry (below) I have been considering the situation of how to highlight the recipes that I've posted in this Blog. This consideration has been about the most I have been able to do as I have been felled by a virus thing that has been doing the rounds in this area. I suspect that I've got it as my immune system is still a little wonky due to the shingles (will it EVER go away?). So, I've been feeling more than a bit achy and weary and have been able to spend only short amounts of time at the computer. Once I made my decision I took short periods of time to set up another Blog called Moment after Moment - the Recipes. This is where I will be posting the recipes that were originally posted here.

I will still be posting recipes here first in the future because cooking is to me an integral part of life. Come to that eating is essential to us all and find it baffling that some people (and I'm speaking generically here and not pointing a finger at any specific person) do not find food and its preparation and cooking really interesting.

I could have accepted a friend's offer to allow me to post my recipes in their cooking Blog (thank you CopCar) but decided that I would prefer my own space, where I can take full responsibility for everything that goes on. Also, to repeat what I have said before in this Blog, there are significant differences between the UK and the US not only in the measurements and methods of cooking but also, to some extent in the actual make-up of the ingredients (i.e. the gluten conten of the flours used). To include in one Blog recipes from two such different countries (in terms of their recipes) would just confuse the innocent reader.

This current stage may not last forever. When I was having yet another burrow through the help pages provided by Blogger I found a page where Blogger members could vote for future changes to be made to Blogger's Blogs. The top one on the list was the addition of Categories to posts on Blogs. Needless to say I immediately voted for this enhancement.

Just to repeat my second Blog, specifically to act as a database of the recipes that originally appeared here, is called Moment after Moment - the Recipes.

Blogging, Questions that have arisen

I hesitated for some time before I started a blog as I wasn't sure whether I would continue with it in the long term. In the end I started it, have enjoyed it and want to continue. But I am beginning to find a problem with being with Blogger.

Amongst the things I post are recipes, lots of them. The trouble is that as time progresses they are beginning to become lost amongst the other posts. So I searched Blogger Help and Blogger Knowledge to see if it is possible to add Categories to my posts so that it is easy to find specific types of subject what I wrote (a slight nod to Ernie Wise there), like recipes or posts about cats. However, I can't find any trace of Categories at all in Blogger. A search amongst the many blogs that are in my Favourites and that I look at regularly shows that none of the ones who use Blogger display Categories. So my assumption is that Blogger does not provide this facility.

So, where do I go from here? There seems to be few options:-

1. Continue as I am - not really possible because as time progresses the current problem will just increase until it is impossible realistically to find things in the archives.
2. Set up a separate Blog for recipes - not really what I want to do. Cooking is such an integral part of my life that separating it out would be both artificial and, I fear, to the deficit of both that new blog and my original one. It would also be cumbersome for me to manage, I suspect (although CopCar is managing her new one fine).
3. Find a new Blog host - Hhmmmm... this might be an option, if I can find another blog host that is easy to use and doesn't cost me anything. Which are the good ones?

Well, these are the options. Has anyone any advice for me on this?

Things about me

A friend sent me one of those questionnaires about yourself that you fill in and send back so that they can learn more about you. Here are some of the questions and my answers.

What is your name? Val

Were you named after anyone? The name Valda originally came from an ex-girlfriend of my father. He chose that name for me because he liked it (well, that's what he told my mother, {smile}).

Do you wish on stars? I'm not a great believer in wishing.

When did you last cry? Hard to tell ...I do cry at things at times

Do you like your handwriting? Yes, though it's fascinating how it's changed over the years.

When is your birthday? ** February 195*

What is your most embarrassing CD? Not sure I've got any, although I blinked at the number I've got by Karl Jenkins

If you were another person would you be friends with you? Hopefully

Do you use sarcasm a lot? No

Would you bungee jump? Not sure, though if I took off my glasses I wouldn't be able to see the height. If I kept them on I'd probably lose them during the jump.

Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? I tend not to wear tie up shoes

Do you think you are strong? Sometimes, sometimes not

What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Chocolate or vanilla, depends on my mood

Shoe Size? 6 1/2 (UK)

What is your least favorite thing about yourself? My tummy...much too prominent

Who do you miss most? My cat Tigger, he was with me for most of my (single) adult life when otherwise I lived alone.

What color pants and shoes are you wearing? A long denim skirt and a pair of sandals

What are you listening to right now? Nothing, I love the peace of silence

Last thing you ate? 2 pitta breads with some taramosalata

If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Red

What is the weather like right now? Warm and sunny

Last person you talked to on the phone? My mother

The first thing you notice about the opposite sex? Their eyes and whether they look kind

Favorite Drink? Filter Coffee, black, no sugar

Hair Color? Light Blond/Brownish

Eye Color? Blue/grey

Favorite food? Chocolate

Last Movie You Watched at the cinema? Mr & Mrs Smith

Favorite Day of The Year? Not sure I have one.

Scary Movies Or Happy Endings? Happy Endings

Summer Or winter? Depends, both can be nice. Just No snow, ice or fog.

Hugs OR Kisses? Both

What Is Your Favorite Dessert? Cold Chocolate Soufflé

Where would your ideal house be located? In the English countryside, although I might stretch a point if I had the opportunity to live in the Tuscan countryside

What Books Are You Reading? "Courtesans" by Katie Hickman. Fascinating, these were women who really broke out of the moulds set by Society to become independent in their own right.

What did you watch on TV last-night? DVD of old Frasier episodes

Favorite Smells? Herbs, especially rosemary and mint.

Favorite Sound? Sibelius Symphonies, especially Symphony No 2

Rolling Stones or Beatles? Beatles

What's the farthest you've been from home? Amsterdam

What's something you want to do before you die? To do the Diceman thing and travel around making decisions based on throwing a dice.

Favorite Movie? Groundhog Day

How many piercings: 2 (1 in each earlobe)

Place of birth: Wimbledon, London

Ever been to Africa: No

Been in a car accident: No, thank goodness

Croutons or bacon bits: Croutons

Favorite day of the week: Sunday

Favorite restaurants: Don't particularly have one. It depends on my mood (and my budget)

Favorite sport to watch: Absolutely none.

Favorite fast food restaurant: Don't go to them

How many times you failed your drivers test: 0

Which store would you choose to Max out your credit card ? I don't max out my credit card (although it gets a hefty wallop from Amazon at times.)

What do you do most often when you are bored: Read books

Favorite TV shows: Doctor Who, Lost, House MD

How many tattoos do you have: 0

How many pets do you have: 2 cats, Pickle and Nimrod, the Mighty Hunter

A Good Slowcooker Recipe

Sticky Chicken

4 tsp salt
2 tsp paprika
1 tsp cayenne pepper
1 tsp onion powder
1 tsp thyme (I have used oregano or basil instead)
1 tsp white pepper
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 large roasting chicken
1 medium chopped onion

In a small bowl, thoroughly combine all the spices. Remove giblets from chicken, clean the cavity well and pat dry with paper towels. Rub the spice mixture into the chicken, both inside and out, making sure it is evenly distributed and down deep into the skin. Place in a resealable plastic bag, seal and refrigerate overnight.Stuff the chicken with the onions; place in the crockpot and set to Low all day long.

This is an excellent recipe I use when I know I will be busy during the day but would like to serve everyone something nice for dinner. The skin of the chicken is lovely and spicy and the flesh is well cooked and delicious.

Good old Nimrod

Nimrod, the Mighty Hunter is really in our good books at the moment because after years of trying he has caught, and disposed of, a squirrel. I looked out of the kitchen window to see him crouching on the patio with the creature in his jaws.

I am not sure just how loudly to laud his actions because about 50% of the population of Great Britain look at the grey squirrel's big eyes and sweet face and say "Aahh" and think it looks cuddly. The rest of the population, including this Household, see a squirrel and think "Tree Rat". A squirrel is just a rat with a big bushy tail. Admittedly it can be seen doing tricks, but these are usually attempts to pinch the food left out for the birds and are just an indication of what a thieves they are.

We've had intimate experience of a squirrel August last year, possibly this one I'm not sure. When we investigated some scratching and rustling that we heard in the sitting room of our house. Our investigations led led us to discover that a squirrel had moved into the eves of the house. I put Nimrod into a cupboard that led into the eves in the hope that the cat would chase it out. He didn't succeed unfortunately as we saw it the next day getting into and out of its lodging via a small hole. So the Husband hammered the hole shut and a couple of hours later we saw the squirrel making determined efforts to get in. Failing, it then saw the open window to the Stepson's bedroom and headed towards it at a rate of knots. We had to yell to the Stepson to close the window quickly to stop the squirrel getting into the house. I am not sure whether this was the squirrel we had dealing with last year - there has been at least two recently playing on our fence and in our trees. At least the squirrel population of our garden is reduced by one.

Marinade Recipe for Lamb

When I got home from the Gardening Club on Friday evening the Husband told me that he had invited his parents, sister, brother-in-law and niece to a Barbeque the next day. Fine, no problem. So I did a quick Google for a recipe for a marinade for the lamb loin chops we decided to buy. Luckily I discovered a really good marinade recipe here for which I already had all the ingedients. It turned out to be a real success, as was the family gathering. A good time was had by all.

Here is the Marinade recipe:-

LAMB MARINADE

1/2 c. olive oil
1/2 c. vegetable oil
1/2 c. fresh lemon juice
4 cloves garlic
2 tsp. oregano
1 tsp. rosemary
1 c. thinly sliced onions
10 bay leaves
1/4 c. chopped parsley
Beat together oils and lemon juice. Peel and smash the garlic and add to oil mixture along with other ingredients. Toss with 5 pounds cubed lamb or spread over a butterflied 7-9 pound leg of lamb. Marinate for at least 8 hours in refrigerator (overnight, too). Baste with the garlic marinade during grilling. Makes about 2 cups.

I managed to find a site online which told me how much olive oil, vegetable oil (I used sunflower) and lemon juice to use. Instead of the dried herbs I used fresh, straight out of the garden. The recipe is well worth doing again.

Chelmsford and District Gardener's Association

The gardening club in Chelmsford that I belong to is called the Chelmsford and District Gardener's Association. It meets the First Friday of the month at the Link, Trinity Methodist Church, Rainsford Road, Chelmford, Essex, UK at 7.30 pm.

Events in 2005/2006 are:-

2nd September 2005 - AGM and Member's evening

7th October 2005 - "General Horticulture" by Margaret Willis

4th November 2005 - "Trees" by Neil Catchpole

2nd December 2005 - Christmas Social

6th January 2006 - "Potentially Hazardous Plants" by Ben Page & Roger Prentice

3rd February 2006 - "Garden Photography" by Marcus Harpur

3rd March 2006 - "Autumnal Colour in Sussex" by Roger Claydon

7th April 2006 - "Gardens of the City of London" by Sue Sincock

5th May 2006 - "Slugs & Snails & ..." by John Llewellyn-Jones

I'm a member of the Society. The meetings are really enjoyable. New Members are always welcome.

The Hairdressers

Most women go to the Hairdressers at least occasionally, a lot go regularly. I am one of them. I go once a month where in addition to having a cut and blow dry I also have a semi-permanent colour (to cover any grey hairs). I am lucky, the hairdressers is literally five minutes walk from the house and they are excellent at what they do, for example my hairdresser is a real expert at colouring. I have been going there for about nine years approximately and am extremely happy with the service I have there. What I have found over the years though is that the shape and colour of my hair does not stay exactly the same each time I go, even though I haven't changed the style for some time. My hair grows very fast indeed and so I am not surprised that sometimes the shape looks a bit different.

Yesterday I had an appointment at the hairdressers and saw my own hairdresser when she had just returned to work after having a baby. She looked hard at my hair and said "Hmmm...". So I was not really surprised when she suggested a "slight change" to the colour to be used on my hair. When my appointment was over and my hair dry so that I could see its actual colour now it was not the light blond that it had been but instead a warm, somewhat darker blond.

I think she was right, the colour does match my skin colour better than the former colour and I know that it was the right change to make. The thing is that every time I catch a sight of my reflection in a mirror I stop dead. It still looks very different to me. The Husband doesn't seem to have noticed the change at all. Men!

The History of the English Language

In the beginning there was an island off the coast of Europe. It had no name, for the natives had no language, only a collection of grunts and gestures that roughly translated to "Hey!", "Gimme!", and "Pardon me, but would you happen to have any woad?"
Then the Romans (who had a pretty decent language) invaded the island and called it Britain, because the natives were "blue, nasty, br(u->i)tish and short." This was the start of the importance of u (and its mispronounciation)to the language. After building some roads, killing off some of the nasty little blue people and walling up the rest, the Romans left, taking the language instruction manual with them.
The British were bored so they invited the barbarians to come over (under Hengist) and "Horsa" 'round a bit. The Angles, Saxons, and Jutes brought with them slightly more refined vocal noises.
All of the vocal sounds of this primitive language were onomatapoedic, being derived from the sounds of battle. Consonants came from the sounds of weapons striking a foe. ("Sss" and "th" for example are the sounds of a draw cut, "k" is the sound of a solidly landed axe blow, "b", "d", are the sounds of a head dropping onto rock and sod respectively, and "gl" is the sound of a body splashing into a bog. Vowels (which were either gargles in the back of the throat or sharp exhalations) were derived from the sounds the foe himself made when struck: AAY! EEEEE! III! OH! OOH! and sometimes, "Why?"
The barbarians had so much fun that they decided to stay for post-revel. The British, finding they had lost future use of the site, moved into the hills to the west and called themselves Welsh.
The Irish, having heard about language from Patrick, came over to investigate. When they saw the shiny vowels, they pried them loose and took them home. They then raided Wales and stole both their cattle and their vowels, so the poor Welsh had to make do with sheep and consonants. ("Old Ap Ivor hadde a farm, L Y L Y W! And on that farm he hadde somme gees. With a dd ddhere and a dd dd there...")
To prevent future raids, the Welsh started calling themselves "Cymry" and gave even longer names to their villages. They figured if no one could pronounce the name of their people or the names of their towns, then no one would visit them. (The success of the tactic is demonstrated still today. How many travel agents have YOU heard suggest a visit to scenic Llyddumlmunnyddthllywddu?)
Meanwhile, the Irish brought all the shiny new vowels home to Erin. But of course they didn't know that there was once an instruction manual for them, so they scattered the vowels throughout the language purely as ornaments. Most of the new vowels were not pronounced, and those that were were pronounced differently depending on which kind of consonant they were either preceding or following.
The Danes came over and saw the pretty vowels bedecking all the Irish words. "Ooooh!" they said. They raided Ireland and brought the vowels back home with them. But the Vikings couldn't keep track of all the Irish rules so they simply pronounced all the vowels "oouuoo."
In the meantime, the French had invaded Britain, which was populated by descendants of the Germanic Angles, Saxons, and Jutes. After a generation or two, the people were speaking German with a French accent and calling it English. Then the Danes invaded again, crying "Oouuoo! Oouuoo!," burning abbeys, and trading with the townspeople.
The Britons that the Romans hadn't killed intermarried with visiting Irish and became Scots. Against the advice of their travel agents, they decided to visit Wales. (The Scots couldn't read the signposts that said, "This way to LLyddyllwwyddymmllwylldd," but they could smell sheep a league away.) The Scots took the sheep home with them and made some of them into haggis. What they made with the others we won't say, but Scots are known to this day for having hairy legs.
The former Welsh, being totally bereft, moved down out of the hills and into London. Because they were the only people in the Islands who played flutes instead of bagpipes, they were called Tooters. This made them very popular. In short order, Henry Tooter got elected King and begin popularizing ornate, unflattering clothing.
Soon, everybody was wearing ornate, unflattering clothing, playing the flute, speaking German with a French accent, pronouncing all their vowels "oouuoo" (which was fairly easy given the French accent), and making lots of money in the wool trade. Because they were rich, people smiled more (remember, at this time, "Beowulf" and "Canterbury Tales" were the only tabloids, and gave generally favorable reviews even to Danes). And since it is next to impossible to keep your vowels in the back of your throat (even if you do speak German with a French accent) while smiling and saying "oouuoo" (try it, you'll see what I mean), the Great Vowel Shift came about and transformed the English language.
The very richest had their vowels shifted right out in front of their teeth. They settled in Manchester and later in Boston.
There were a few poor souls who, cut off from the economic prosperity of the wool trade, continued to swallow their vowels. They wandered the countryside in misery and despair until they came to the docks of London, where their dialect devolved into the incomprehensible language known as Cockney. Later, it was taken overseas and further brutalized by merging it with Dutch and Italian to create Brooklynese.
That's what happened, you can check for yourself. But we advise you to just take our word for it.

Taken from here. It's wonderful what you can find on the Internet.

So True

Today is the absolute day,
the only day in the eternity of time.
Everyday is fresh and new
just as one's life is new everyday.

Shoba

From yesterday's Meditation Tip of the Day

The Library That Lends Out People

A public library in Holland has been swamped with queries after unveiling plans to "lend out" living people, including homosexuals, drug addicts, asylum seekers, gipsies and the physically handicapped.
The volunteers will be borrowed by users of the library, in Almelo, who can take them to a cafeteria, and ask them any questions they like for up to an hour, in a scheme designed to break down barriers and combat prejudice.
The library's director, Jan Krol, said yesterday he had been deluged with requests from prospective borrowers after his project was reported in the Dutch media.
Almelo, a prosperous town of 72,000 people in the Twente region of east Holland, is not known as a hotbed of Amsterdam-style liberalism.
The people-lending scheme was conceived as a local project, designed to encourage the solid burghers of Almelo to make contact with members of ethnic minorities and other marginalised members of society but caught the imagination of the Dutch press.
"It has caused a lot of interest, a lot of people have already called with questions like: do I need a library card?" said Mr Krol.
Borrowers of people will not need a card, he said, though one will remain necessary for more prosaic items, such as books.
There will be no fines for returning people late, he added. "Most meetings will last 45 minutes, we imagine. You can ask anything you like, but racist or strong language is not allowed. To avoid unpleasantness, all meetings must take place in the library café."
Mr Krol, who said he was inspired by a similar scheme in Sweden, has already filled many of his volunteer slots, and hopes to launch the project next month.
He said: "I've got several gay men, a couple of lesbian women, a couple of Islamic volunteers, I've got a physically handicapped woman, and a woman who has been living on social security benefits for many years in real poverty. "
Mr Krol said he was especially keen to find members of Holland's small Roma gipsy community after a recent attack on two gipsy families in the city of Enschede.
Under the scheme, photographs and short biographies of the volunteers will appear in the library, and on its website. Library users who wish to take a person out can apply for an appointment. Mr Krol said he had not cleared the scheme with his municipal bosses.
"Oh, I never ask the council before I do anything," he said. "And there are no costs at all, only two cups of coffee."

Absolutely true and from today's Telegraph

My version of Minestrone Soup

2 ounces of steaky bacon, de-rinded and chopped into small pieces
1 onion, chopped
2-3 celery stalks, chopped
6 oz carrots, chopped
tin chopped tomatoes
4-5 cloves of garlic, crushed
4-5 leeks, chopped
about 6 oz green cabbage, shredded
1 oz butter
1 tablespoon oil
2.5 pints vegetable stock
1.2 tablespoons fresh basil, chopped, or 0.5 teaspoon dried basil
3-4 oz macaroni
1 tablespoon tomato puree
salt & freshly ground pepper
Parmesan cheese, grated

Heat butter and oil in a big saucepan, add the bacon and cook for a minute or two. Then add the onion, cook that for a minute or so then add the celery, carrots, tomato pulp, garlic and season with salt & pepper. Put the lid on the pan and let the veg sweat for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add the stock, the juice from the tin of tomatoes and the basil. Simmer gently (covered) for about an hour. Then add the leeks, cabbage and macaroni and cook for a further 30 minutes.

Stir in the tomato puree, cook for another 10 minutes and check seasoning. Serve with the parmesan on top of each serving of soup.

My Comments:

Although it might seem to take a while to make it is very economical, healthy and has few calories.

You can change the amounts of veg/garlic/seasoning used, depending on taste and what you have available.

Sometimes when I make it I find that because I've added more veg than above it gets very thick indeed. Fine, I just treat it like a condensed soup and let it down with some more stock.

I find one lot of soup lasts the Husband and I several days. The soup lasts well in a (big) bowl in the fridge and I just take out a couple of portions and add some stock to make it go further and last longer. So, although it takes a while to make it is well worth it in the long run.

To save time I tend to chop/shred all of the vegetables in the food processor.

Oh Nimrod!

Nimrod the Mighty Hunter is feeling better. And as a result I am feeling absolutely shattered. I was worken out of a deep sleep at 2.30 in the morning by him bellowing outside the bedroom door. His Mightiness had caught a bird and laid it, like an offering, outside the door. He clearly wanted my approbation. SIGH.

Obviously the antibiotics are working. Only two more days to go.

Fascinating Idea

There is an absolutely fascinating idea in the news today of a proposal, by a professor at Cornell University and published in Nature, to repopulate the open spaces of North America and Canada with a variety of endangered species from other countries. Animals like lions, cheetahs and elephants could fill gaps in the ecosystem which could have major environmental benefits. The idea is to fill the continent with large mammals similar to those wiped out 13,000 years ago at the end of the Pleistocene era, when human beings reached North America. The full story can be found in The Times and the BBC.

I find this an absolutely fascinating idea, well worth investigating further. What comes to my mind is that over here wild boar were hunted to extinction a couple of centuries or more ago. Since then wild boars, which had been bred in captivity have escaped from farms and have now established themselves in Great Britain. I understand that they are absolutely thriving in certain areas. It would be wonderful if some endangered species could be established in the wild areas of the US/Canada - provided, of couse, that the whole thing is properly managed and the creatures protected.

There are times when you wonder what part of the year you are actually in. The last few days were a case in point. This weekend saw the start of the football (soccer) season. I know this because I am the wife of a third generation Arsenal supporter (he was born within walking and listening distance of the Gunners’ grounds) and Arsenal won their first match 2-0. Now the fact that I have no idea who they were playing gives you some idea of my interest in the game. All I do is to listen to what he says - it goes in one ear and out the other without sticking in my memory at all – and make comments which I always think of as intelligent but turn out to prove my absolute ignorance of the game. But then I just do not understand why, if there is a whole generation of young lads who would like to be a professional footballer that Arsene Wenger (the Manager) is looking for decent players. Anyway, to get back to the point the Football season to me is supposed to be in Winter.

Then yesterday (Monday) our house reverberated with shrieks and bellows on the last day of the latest Ashes. England versus Australia and England could have won (I was told) up to the last ball bowled. Cricket is a game with a huge number of abtruse names and points, none of which I understand. Only an Englishman could. Anyway, at least Cricket is supposed to be played in the Summer, although there seem to be matches most of the year and in all parts of the world.

The shrieks were coming from the sitting room (Husband) and the Stepson’s bedroom. He telephoned at 7.00 pm on Friday to announce that he was turning up at 8.00 to stay for a week. My immediate reaction when I had put the phone down was a panicked mental inventory of what was in the fridge – he drinks vats of milk daily and we were a bit short – but then to realise that it is good that he feels comfortable enough with us to do that. He is an undergraduate, of course, and they all make decisions on what they are going to do at the last minute. He’ll learn.

We had to have to plumbers in yesterday to sort out a leak that was coming through the main bedroom ceiling. The Husband had traced the problem before he rang the plumber – whoever had lived in the house before us had been an absolutely terrible DIYer and this was one of a number of botched jobs we have discovered over the years. I had to keep away from our plumber because she is young and has a couple of school-age kids and, of course, I am still infectious. For the same reason I am not going up to London tomorrow with the Husband and the Stepson when they visit a couple of exhibitions at Tate Britain and the go on to the Proms. I am sorry to be missing the exhibitions but not really to miss the Prom – Berg isn’t really my thing.

Nimrod has been limping around the house for several days. I kept an eye on him in the hope that it would clear up of his own accord but when he was still being a brave little soldier (Ha!) on Monday I gave up and took him to the Vets. It turns out that he has a puncture wound in one of the pads of his left front foot and that it has become infected. So I have to give him antibiotics twice a day for the next five days. Fortunately he is good about taking pills, or perhaps it is that after a lifetime of keeping cats I have developed some experience of putting pills down their throats.

We are not sure how he got the puncture wound but I have a pretty good idea. We have an old climbing rose on a wall in the back garden which has a trunk that is hard and wood like. Nim will keep on trying to climb up it or to sharpen his claws on it despite the many ferocious thorns. Nimrod may be a Mighty Hunter but he is hardly the sharpest of moggies.

Shingles isn't much fun. Apart from its very obvious presence on the face and the pain it also makes you feel very washed out. A deadheading session in the backgarden today was enough to make me very puffed. But then we have a lot of white Cosmos which look wonderful but need deadheading virtually daily and I haven't done any since last week. Oh well, what I've done today should keep them going for a bit. Now I am going to rest.

Thought of the Week

If you deliberately plan to be less than you are capable of being, then I warn you that you will be deeply unhappy for the rest of your life.

Abraham Maslow

From Meditation Tip of the Day

At times I know how they feel

From The Idler:-

Researchers in Gruenau, Austria have provided a flock of lazy birds with a car and driver because they are incapable of migrating on their own.

Ornithologists from the Konrad Lorenz research centre have spent more than two years breeding the Northern Bald Ibis species.

The birds were escorted to their winter quarters in the Maremma region in northern Italy by car because they simply couldn’t be bothered to make the 500 mile trip. If they’d flown, the birds (which are about 80 centimetres tall with slimy black feathers) would have taken about a fortnight to complete the journey.

Dr Kurt Kotrschal from the Zoology Department at Vienna University said: ‘The birds are used to the all-inclusive treatment at the research centre. So we had to pack the lazy birds into the car and drive them.’

The species had once been widespread in Austria but was entirely wiped out in the Middle Ages. Experts claimed that the idle things had lost their natural sense of orientation and are now being retrained in hang gliders.

And three times is... Unlucky?

I am not a superstitious person, never have been. Let’s face it when you are owned by a big black cat (Nimrod the Mighty Hunter) who is constantly wending his way around your ankles it is difficult to be superstitious about such creatures. Horrorscopes is another thing I don’t believe in. I was born on the cusp – literally – between Aquarius and Pisces and it all depends on what time I was born which I belong to. However my mother can’t remember what time of the day I was born… and neither horoscope ever seems to match up to me.

Many people have another superstition, that if something (usually bad) happens twice it will happen a third time. This is yet another superstition I usually don’t espouse to either. However…

The Husband developed shingles about three months ago and suffered (quite loudly) for the two months that it was a real problem for him.

Buffy, a friend of mine, is looking after her 88 year old mother who has developed shingles and is really uncomfortable with it at the moment.

Do you see where I am going with this…

I went to the doctors this morning to find out why (a) I feel as if I have been kicked in the face; and (b) why I have a large and very obvious group of swellings, blisters, etc on the left side of my mouth. Yes, I have shingles too.

The blisters, etc, first showed their ugly heads a couple of weeks ago but were not too bad. However, on Friday I took a day trip from the town in Essex, where I live, to the outskirts of Cardiff, to visit my mother in the nursing home where she lives. An exhausting trip and visit. By Saturday I felt horrible and the problems with my face were about four times as bad as before. Hence the visit to the Doctor today.

I am trying to avoid painkillers if I can. I do feel a bit drained, I must admit, and after spending the rest of the morning making a huge bowl of Scotch Broth have spent the afternoon listening to Classic FM for a bit of relaxation.

This too shall pass.

Joke

Off to Wales in a minute to visit my mother. Just some thoughts before I set out....

A man walked into the ladies department of a department store and shyly walked up to the woman behind the counter and said, "I'd like to buy a bra for my wife."
"What type of bra?" asked the clerk.
"Type?" inquires the man, "There's more than one type?
"Look around," said the saleslady, as she showed a sea of bras in every shape, size, color and material imaginable.
"Actually, even with all of this variety, there are really only four types of bras to choose from."

Relieved, the man asked about the types. The saleslady replied: "There are the Catholic, the Salvation Army, the Presbyterian, and the Baptist types. Which one would you prefer?"

Now totally befuddled, the man asked about the differences between them. The Saleslady responded, "It is all really quite simple...
The Catholic type supports the masses.
The Salvation Army type lifts the fallen,
The Presbyterian type keeps them staunch and upright, and
The Baptist makes mountains out of mole hills.

Have you ever wondered why A, B, C, D, DD, E, F, G, and H are the letters used to define bra sizes? If you have wondered why, but couldn't figure out what the letters stood for, it is about time you became informed!

(A} Almost Boobs...
{B} Barely there.
{C} Can't Complain!
{D} Dang!
{DD} Double dang!
{E} Enormous!
{F} Fake.
{G} Get a Reduction.
{H} Help me, I've fallen and I can't get up !

They forgot the German bra....Holtzemfromfloppen!

Slow Cooked Lamb Casserole

1 kg/2lb beef/ Lamb cut into 0.5cm/1inch pieces
Seasoned flour for dusting
2 tbsp vegetable oil or beef dripping
175g/6oz smoked bacon, diced
2 stalks celery, finely chopped
1 large onion, finely diced
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
2 sprigs thyme
2 tbsp redcurrant jelly
275ml/10fl oz of red wine
500ml/1 pint beef stock
150ml/5fl oz port
1 tbsp Worcestershire Sauce
12 stoned prunes
100g/2oz dried cranberries
115g/4oz button mushrooms
2 bay leaves
1 orange, zest only
1 tbsp tomato purée
2 tbsp rough chopped parsley
salt
freshly black ground pepper

Method:
1. Toss the lamb in the seasoned flour. Heat the oil in an ovenproof casserole dish and brown the lamb all over.
2. Add the bacon, celery, onion, garlic and thyme, the redcurrant jelly, red wine, beef stock, port and Worcestershire sauce along with the dried cranberries, button mushrooms, bay leaves, orange zest and tomato purée.
3. Bring slowly to simmering point then cover and cook in the oven at 180C/350F/Gas Mark 4 for 2 ½ hours or until the lamb is tender.
4. Remove the casserole from the oven and allow to rest for five minutes. Skim off any fat that has risen to the surface.
5. Serve with mashed potato.

Delicious.

Su Doku

Cop Car was asking what is Su Doku. Well, it's an absolute craze over here and totally addictive. Su Doku puzzles can be found in many of the UK daily newspapers and from the many books of compilations of puzzles currently being published, some of which are now in the UK's bestseller list for books.

Su Doku is a challenge for logic and common sense. There is a grid, 9 squares across and 9 squares down and the challenge is to fill each square with a number between 1 and 9 so that every number appears once in each line whether across or down. Some of the numbers are given and you have to deduce the rest through reasoning and deductuion. It is simple to learn, requires no mathematical calculations and provides a surprisingly wide number of logic situations. It appeals to all ages and, as I have already said, is totally addictive.

Su Doku originated in an American puzzle book in the 1980s and was originally called Number Place. Somehow it migrated to Japan and slightly adapted when it was called "Suuji wa dokushin ni kagiru" and became the most popular number puzzle in Japan.

One thing I have read about Su Doku in a crafting magazine thought that Su Doku had probably originated from a quilting block. I understand that the 9 patch grid is well known in quilting circles.

For access to Su Doku (and a source for puzzles on a weekly basis) try virtually every UK newspaper. I read the Times and so I suggest you try here which also gives hints and tips on how to solve the puzzles. But, as I have already said, once you start the puzzles you get totally addicted. I know I am, as is the Stepson.

Sewing Machine Frustrations

I am feeling really exasperated. For some time I wanted to start sewing properly. I decided to dust down my sewing machine and to start to use it again. Also I have enrolled in a year course of evening classes in soft furnishings.

My Singer sewing machine is over 30 years old and so I took it into the local sewing machine shop to have a full service done. I picked up the machine today. The service cost me over £60 plus £5 worth of bobbins. Once I had paid the manager of the shop, who had also done the servicing, he told me that he could not guarantee the life of the machine and that it was probably nearing the end of its life (I bought it new in 1973/74). He then showed me an identical machine, the same make and model, and told me that he was about to throw it in the dustbin because it was broken (something to do with the bobbin holder) and it could not be mended, a common problem with that particular machine.

What really gets me is that when we took the machine to the shop the Husband offered to buy me a new machine and I told him that it wasn't necessary, I would prefer to keep on using the machine I was used to.

Anyway, I've brought my old machine home and will keep on using it. But in the back of my mind will now be the thought that it could break down at any minute. Sigh.

Mixed Feelings

The Stepson has gone back to spend some time with his mother and some time on holiday, so we won't see him again until the middle of August. We both really, really miss him. With one exception.... now he's gone at least we can read The Times on the day it comes out, rather than constantly looking for it because he's nicked it to do the Su Doku.

Thought of the Day

In absence of clearly defined goals, we become strangely loyal to performing daily acts of trivia.

-- Unknown

The Proms

Following my last posting Cop Car asked what are the Proms. So, here follows the history lesson, .

A Prom means a Promenade Concert, or a concert where part of the audience stands in a "promenade" area of the hall. Promenaders have two choices of where to stand: either in the Arena, the floor of the hall and directly in front of the orchestra (where many consider this the best position in the hall) or high up in the Gallery where the sound just drifts up to you. Today there are over 1,000 standing places available at each and every Prom. The Promenaders enjoy the music at vastly reduced prices, this year they pay just £4 per concert.

The Proms started in 1885 when the manager of the newly built Queen's Hall in London, which was used for symphony orchestra concerts, decided that he wanted to try to reach a wider audience by offering more popular programmes, adopting a less formal promenade arrangement and keeping ticket prices low. He asked Henry Wood, an organist, accompanist, vocal coach and conductor of choirs, orchestras and amateur opera companies, to be the conductor of the first series of promenade concerts. That first season was followed by more seasons, and seasons have continued annually from then to now. After May 1941, when a Luftwaffe bombardment gutted the Queen's Hall the Proms moved from the Queens Hall to its current venue, the Royal Albert Hall, where it has remained ever since. The BBC took over the responsibility for the Proms in the early 1930s and has done since then, with the exception of a couple of years during the last war (Sir Henry Wood, as he was by then known, still managed to keep the concerts going even without the BBC).

The seasons, which run from mid July to mid-September with at least one concert every single evening, now cover a remarkable range of music and with a huge range of internationally known orchestras, soloists and composers. Many new works are premiered at the Proms each year. The last few years have seen the Proms season being developed with Proms in the Park, Proms Chamber Music, Proms Lectures and Proms celebrating music from the worlds of jazz (there was a wonderful late night one last year with Wynton Marsalis hading up an excellent jazz orchestra last year), film and stage musicals. Plus Poetry Proms at the Serpentine Gallery and 'Composer Portraits' at the Royal College of Music alongside the ever-expanding series of Pre-Prom talks at the Royal Albert Hall. The wonderful thing, for those like the Husband and I who just cannot afford to travel to London to go to the Proms many, many times each season is that every single Proms concert is broadcast on BBC Radio 3 and a fair number of concerts are televised as well.

There you are, and I haven’t even mentioned yet the Last Night of the Proms a splendiferous mixture of music and celebration, when everyone lets their hair down and when, in addition to other pieces of music, there are musical regulars like the Elgar Pomp and Circumstance March No 1 and Jerusalem and the audience sings like mad and flags are waved. The Last Night is televised all over the world and many in other countries may have seen it.

For more about the Proms you can go here and here.

Three Days

I’ve just had three days when I’ve been too busy to get anywhere near this blog, or anywhere else on the web. Life has taken the forefront and as blogging must always take second place to living I have no guilt in saying so.

Saturday was the Husband’s birthday and so for lunch we got together with the Stepson and Stepdaughter and went to a local Chinese restaurant. The restaurant is somewhat upmarket compared to most Chinese restaurants and the food and the service were both excellent. Afterwards the Stepdaughter went off for the rest of the day to revise for some examinations while we all set off for London and the Proms. It always takes quite a while to get to the Royal Albert Hall when all the trains are working properly and with so many underground lines out of action or seriously disrupted at the moment it took ages to get there. However we arrived eventually and because we set out early we were in good time for the concert.

It was quite a popular programme with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Gerard Schwartz. The first half was Mendelssohn’s “Hebrides” Overture followed by the Bruch Violin Concerto No 1 in G minor. Both were played well and enjoyable, although I think I would have preferred them to be played with a bit more verve. All the “oomph” however was reserved for Vaughan Williams “A Sea Symphony” which the second half of the programme and wonderful. In addition to the orchestra there were two choirs totalling more than 200 people singing and giving all that they could give as well as a soprano (Janice Watson), a baritone (Dwayne Croft) and the newly refurbished organ which managed the not easy task of being heard and taking a significant role in the symphony without drowning out everybody else. Altogether it was an excellent concert and well worth all the trouble of getting there.

It is strange that no other member of my birth family has the same love for music as I do. When I was young I used to commandeer the radio to listen to broadcast concerts and as soon as I was 16 years old and at work I started to go up to London for concerts, especially the Proms, although I also used to go frequently to the Royal Festival Hal (I was living in Surrey at the time and so it was easy to get to the RFH). I am afraid that I do not necessarily agree with the frequently observed comment that the atmosphere at the Proms is unlike any other. With the exception of the Last Night of the Proms the feeling of anticipation in any concert is the same, absolutely magic. (Having said that at normal concerts you don’t get members of the audience bellowing out to the rest of the audience of collections they are making for charity.)

When the Husband and I both took early retirement last year we realised that we would have to pull our horns in over some expenditure and we decided that we would have to severely reduce the number of concerts that we go to. This is not the sacrifice it might seem because we can listen to the radio through the (excellent) Hi-Fi and the Husband is a collector of CDs (over 3,000 of classical music plus about a thousand of rock/film soundtracks and popular music). Still it is nice to go to a good concert occasionally.

Sunday was a family day. Both the Stepson and Stepdaughter came around for the day and a good time was had by all. I am very lucky that I get on so well with then. You hear horrible stories about second wives not getting on with the children of the first marriage but I have been very, very lucky in that way.

Monday morning I spent trying to work out why none of my e-mails were being downloaded to my computer from the Inbox at my ISP’s website. By the time I sorted that out it was time to go out with the Stepdaughter to the cinema. We saw “The War of the Worlds” which was, to be frank, better than I expected. As I read the book at quite an early age (H G Wells based it all around where I was brought up and so I enjoyed finding all the landmarks I knew in the book) I was a bit concerned that I would not enjoy the film. I find that if I watch a TV or film adaptation of a book I’ve read I often find that the interpretation just does not match up to the pictures I have in my mind of the characters or what happens. In this case, however, I was able to disassociate my mind from the book entirely and enjoy the film quite a lot. (Tom Cruse was all right, although I thought both of the kids in the film were terrible.) It was daft but enjoyable.

Thought of the Day

If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.

by Marcus Aurelius (AD 121 - 180)

Not a good day today. Nothing to do with the London bombs, just things to do with members of the family. People really have the power to hurt you, if you let them. So I dug out my copy of the Meditations by Marcus Aurelius, the Empoeror of Rome at the zenth of its power and expansion. His words help me.

ICE is NOT a Hoax!

Last Wednesday I mentioned a suggestion that I had seen on the Net that the letters ICE, which stands for "In Case of Emergency", should be added to the list of contacts in your mobile phone address book together with the phone number of the person we would like to be called if necessary. I mentioned at the time that I thought it a very good idea and subsequently added ICE to my own mobile phone with the Husband's mobile phone number.

Today I have seen on the Net a mention that the ICE campaign is a hoax and a suggestion that by adding ICE to your mobile phone you are opening up your mobile to a new phone-based virus which will be sent to everyone in your mobile phone's address book. However, this suggestion that it is a hoax is a hoax in its own right. The whole concept of ICE is real and is of value.

To see the whole subject set out in detail see Snopes which, of course, is the place to go whenever you want to check whether a story is real or not.

If I had my life to live over

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner." There would have been more "I love you's." More "I'm sorry's."

But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it… live it…and never give it back

by Erma Bombeck
(Written after she found out she was dying from cancer).

Impressionism Abroad, Boston and French Painting

It was, perhaps, a little unwise to go to an art exhibition when the pupils of my eyes were distended and so that I could not see everything as normal. But I had a routine hospital check-up in the morning (to check my glaucoma hadn’t changed at all – it had not) and before the day it had made sense to me to combine the hospital visit with something pleasant, like a visit to an exhibition in the afternoon. So I chose to go to the exhibition “Impressionism Abroad, Boston and French Painting” in the Jillian and Arthur M Sackler Wing of the Royal Academy of Arts in Piccadilly, which the Husband and I visited yesterday afternoon. In actual fact I was able to see all the pictures without any difficulty at all. It was just the small plaques beside the pictures with the names of who had donated them that I had difficulty in reading.

Until yesterday I was unaware of the relationship between French and American art during the 19th Century. Many Bostonians developed an enthusiasm for collecting modern art from French and American painters. From the 1840s Bostonians were collecting works from the Barbizon school of painters who were interested in trying to capture everyday rural scenes, together with Impressionist paintings which shared several similarities of subject matter and approach. The Bostonians' fascination in this type of art eventually acted as a catalyst for the setting up of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts in about 1870. I believe that virtually all the paintings on display had been leant by the Museum.

I have to admit that I was very impressed (no pun intended) by this exhibition. In just three rooms it had some of the most lovely landscapes and rural scenes that I had seen for a long time. The French paintings were incredible – I was staggered to see twelve Monets (most of them, like the waterlillies and a picture of his wife sewing with a child at her feet, very famous and often seen in reproduction), plus paintings by Degas, Manet and some wonderful Corots. These French paintings were counterpointed by paintings by American artists from the same period. Many of their names and work I had not come across before but many of their paintings gave me real pleasure to look at.

Interestingly I can remember, about a year ago going to an exhibition of works by Raphael at the National Gallery, where everyone was clustering close to the actual pictures to see every small detail. However, with this exhibition yesterday everyone was standing back from each painting, to get the best overall view of the work.

When I had finished looking around I looked in the gallery shop at a book published to go with the exhibition. It had reproductions of all the paintings on show. However, having looked at the vibrancy of the originals the reproductions just looked dead and uninteresting.

I.C.E.

I have seen the following several times on the Net and think it could be a sensible thing to do. Just doing my bit to disseminate the information:

East Anglian Ambulance Service have launched a national "In case of Emergency ( ICE ) " campaign withthe support of Falklands war hero Simon Weston.The idea is that you store the word " I C E " in your mobile phone address book, and against it enter the number of the person you would want to be contacted"In Case of Emergency". In an emergency situation ambulance and hospital staff will then be able to quickly find out who your next of kin are and be able to contact them. It's so simple that everyone can do it. Please do.
For more than one contact name ICE1, ICE2, ICE3 etc.

A Meme

I'm not sure what a Meme is but I've stolen this from Buffy's blog who in turn copied it from Cop Car’s blog, who got it from BogieBlog, who got it from Jim at Parkway Rest Stop.

What I was doing fifty years ago: 4 years old and being passed from relative to relative for some months while my mother was having an extended stay in hospital and my father..., well at that time men just didn't look after young children.

What I was doing twenty-five years ago: Commuting from Woking to London to work in an office outside Waterloo Station. Living with my parents. Knitting, crocheting, embroidering reading and sewing for relaxation.

What I was doing twenty years ago: Still working for the same employer in London. Moved into my own flat in a village the next station to Woking. Lots more craftwork, including my knitting machine.

What I was doing fifteen years ago: Moved to another employer in London in the same line of business. Still in the same flat and doing the same craftwork. Going to Dorset regularly to visit parents.

What I was doing ten years ago: Married and moved to Essex, having acquired two wonderful stepkids in the process (aged 6 and 10 when I married their Dad 12 years ago). In same job but commute to London is more complicated. Still going to Dorset to see parents. Craftwork in the cracks, although the knitting machine got packed up and put away.

5 years ago: More of the same. Father has cancer so more visits to Dorset. Working towards MCIPS.

1 year ago: I've achieved my MCIPS, can't say it's made much difference to the work I was doing, just gave me more status. Just told I could have Early Retirement from work. Highly delighted as I couldn't stand the commute to London any more. Joy tempered by the asthma I'd developed in the February which is causing a lot of problems. Much support from Husband and Stepkids. Father has died and mother has gone into a nursing home. Now I am visiting Wales to see her.

Yesterday: Took a 10 minute walk into town to buy a few groceries we needed, plus 2 x 100grm balls baby yarn to crochet more baby blankets for charity. Got very puffed indeed and felt real chest pains when I breathed. Got home (slowly) and took it very, very easy the rest of the day (the asthma feels better after a good nights sleep and lots of Ventolin).

5 locations I would like to run away to: the English countryside, the seaside, Tuscany, a big and peaceful park, a lake or pond where I can sit in peace and watch the plants and insects

5 bad habits I have: Untidiness, procrastination, too many nibbles (especially when I am not really hungry), putting off writing to my friends and family, reading or on the computer when I should be doing the housework.

5 things I like doing: Knitting, crochet, cooking, reading, going to the cinema.

5 things I would never wear: Animal fur, fake leopardskin anything, a tattoo, culottes, fluffy mules.

5 TV shows I like: Doctor Who (the new series), New Tricks, X-Files, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Northern Exposure

6 Biggest joys of the moment: The Husband, both Stepkids, the cats, my craftwork, the English countryside, my friends online.

3 Favorite toys: My computer, my books, my crafting equipment.

Rather than send this to five people I offer it to anyone who wishes to copy and run with it. My thanks to Buffy, Cop Car, Bogie and Jim from Parkway Rest Stop for sharing it.

Pesto Alla Genovese

3-4 large handfuls fresh basil (at least 100g)
1 clove garlic, peeled and chopped
sea salt
1 tablespoon pine nuts
2 tablespoons Parmigiano Reggiano, freshly grated
3 tblsps Pecorino Romano, freshly grated
6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

Pick the basil leaves from the stalks, discarding any leaves that are bruised or damaged.
Put the garlic, a pinch of salt and some of the torn up basil leaves in a mortar (the rough salt provides some friction needed to grind up the leaves). Use the pestle, adding more leaves to the mortar until they are all ground down.
Add the pine nuts and the two cheeses. Lastly add enough oil to make a thick consistency. Adjust the seasoning if necessary.
Wonderful with drained and hot cooked pasta, just toss well with a fork and spoon.

To Do Lists

I have just been listening to an amusing and entertaining BBC Radio 3 programme about To Do lists (available here, until next Saturday) and now find myself musing about the whole subject of To Do lists. I have found over the years that while theoretically I am very much in favour of the idea of To Do lists, however, I find that in real life I can never keep one of the damn things going for more than a few days. I cannot make my mind up if that is because I lack in self-discipline or whether I just have difficulty finding an efficient way of managing them once created. I work on the principle that there is no value in including those things I have to do every day (get up, meditate, feed the cats, do my morning inhaler, see what e-mails have arrived overnight, have breakfast, wash, get dressed and so on and so forth as the day progresses) as I just do them all by habit. If it is something I definitely know has to be done within the next day or two or life will become difficult (i.e. remembering to wash clothes, etc) I just find myself remembering it and doing on a relevant day. Everything else, which may or may not need doing just pops up in my mind and I just get on with it when it seems appropriate to do so. I have tried to keep a To Do list of such things and I find that after a couple of days it just gets buried and forgotten and when I finally look at it, some months ago it is either completely out of date or I can see that I managed to do everything essential on the page. Then there is the point that if the list is on paper it gets very untidy when a few items have been crossed out but the rest remain there, still to be done and rewriting the list just takes valuable time when I could have been doing something on my To Do list. When I was commuting to work every day I had my PDA (a Palm), an absolutely invaluable piece of equipment which enabled me to download and to read my e-mails while on the train, to read e-books and also various other facilities, including a To Do list. I tried using that electronic To Do list many times but rarely remembered even to open it daily and to check what was to be done (work things were, of course, on my work computer where I could see them and remember them). Now I have retired I find that I rarely even look at my PDA – everything is either on my p.c. or somewhere in the house.

I do have a list of things I’d like to do sometime in the future. These include: start sewing again, learn Italian, finish some of the many knitting projects half done and unfinished buried in a cupboard, find some volunteer work to do, etc, etc….. Perhaps I should start a special To Do list, just for these.

How to cheer yourself up

After something distressing or disturbing, or both, it helps to get yourself back on an emotional even keel. Everyone will have their own way of doing it but I can only describe my own way.

The first thing I did was to get back to my usual routines of the day. Then as the evening wore on I chose a film to watch, to take my mind completely off the subject. Something not challenging, lighthearted and also something I knew well so no surprises. So, I chose a Carry On film, which I always like - totally daft, made on a shoestring and very enjoyable. I chose "Carry on Screaming", one of the best of the bunch and a wonderful send-up of the Hammer Horror films. Then I went to bed with Terry Pratchett, or more precisely one of his books which I have read many times before. I love his writing and have virtually all of his books (he is one of very few writers whose books I buy in hardabck, rather than waiting for the paperback to come out). I chose "Guards, Guards", absolutely excellent on several levels and the first to feature my favourite Pratchett character, Sam Vimes.

Then I went to sleep in the knowledge that tomorrow would be a better day. [It would have been an undisturbed night if it was not for Nimrod the Mighty Hunter who in the early hours of the morning bellowed outside the bedroom door until I woke up and came out to congratulate him on the bird he had caught and to dispose of the body (unusual - he normally does not kill them, perhaps it died of fright). Oh well, life goes on ~grin~]

Today - a personal view

At about 9.15 this morning the telephone rang. It was the Stepdaughter who said that she had managed to get to work but that something major had clearly happened at Liverpool Street Station, although she did not know what. The Husband and I turned on Sky News and sat transfixed for most of the day. Very little news at first but as time went by it became clear that it was bomb explosions. Exactly what had happened slowly filtered through. At the time of writing there are 37 dead and hundreds injured, some of whom are very seriously hurt. As the day wore on exactly it also became clear that there was no Underground service at all, no buses in Zone 1 and all the main line stations closed. So we began to be worried exactly how people would be able to get home: millions commute to London for work every day. About 3.00 the Stepdaughter rang to say that her office had turned everyone out at about 11.00 this morning (as it is an insurance company situated close to both Lloyds of London and the Gherkin it could be a real target for terrorists) and she was having real difficulty getting home. She had managed to get the last train out of Fenchurch Street to Barking but had no way of getting from there to home. We told her to get a taxi to Gants Hill and we drove up the A12 and managed to pick her up and bring her home.

For us this might be described as a minor thing, we were not immediately affected at all and just watching everything on TV. Nevertheless I found the whole thing very disquieting. I recognised every scene of devastation shown on television as they all took place in parts of London I knew very well indeed. Then there was the fact that until I took early retirement last September I travelled on one of the tube trains out of Liverpool St station that was bombed today. Also Thursday of next week I have to go up to London (a hospital appointment followed by a visit to an exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts) and will probably be getting that tube train.

The worse thing, however, is how it took me back to London 30 years ago when the IRA was doing its best to bomb parts of England and its people and to disrupt everything. I can well remember all the train and tube journeys which were severely disrupted – there was one tube journey when we were turfed off into a part of London I didn’t know at all and I found myself walking down deserted streets desperately trying to find a landmark I recognised while aware that I may be walking into real danger. I’ve never forgotten what that felt like, nor will the many, many people who have been doing the same today, desperately trying to find shelter or the way home. I also learnt then an unconscious skill that has never yet left me, to look out for potential hazards that may be bombs – even today if I see an unattended package a thought comes to mind that it could be dangerous. Many people were killed by the IRA then and even more injured or otherwise affected. One woman who used to work for me was in Victoria Railway Station when the IRA bomb went off there. She wasn’t physically injured but was never ever the same either emotionally or mentally – just a middle aged clerical worker who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Still, we will get over this and get on with life. Anything less would be to give into the terrorists.

Oh Yes!

Cheese - milk's leap toward immortality

By Clifton Fadiman

Weird News Day

I don't know why but all sorts of odd things are going on today and it's not April 1st. These include the news that the film Snow White which is to be remade and transformed by Disney into a martial arts epic with Shaolin monks replacing the seven dwarves. Then there is the insurance company going to insure swimmers against attacks by the Loch Ness Monster. Then there is the poor woman desperately looking for her 70 year old turtle which attacks drainpipes.

About the only ordinary thing going on is that our relationship with our nearest neighbour France is at its usual level .

Thought of the Day

My philosophy is that not only are you responsible for your life, but doing the best at this moment puts you in the best place for the next moment.

from Oprah Winfrey


From Motivational Quotes of the Day

We spend HOW much on lawns

I see from today's edition of the Telegraph that the British spent £392 million last year on their lawns. This sum flabbergasts me. But then I have no idea just how much we spend altogether on our gardens and indoor houseplants. I suspect that it is much more than this.

Looking after a lawn so that it is a pristine piece of greensward tends to be a bloke thing. There does tend to be a certain type of man who works on his lawn but does not have anything to do with any other part of his garden, leaving that to his wife. I well remember the character in "Blott on the Landscape" who was an absolute bore about caring for his lawn and had no other subject of conversation.

I have to admit that our own lawn is a bit of a disgrace, full of clover and with quite a few bumps in it. The Husband and I prefer working on the flower beds to obsessing on our lawn.