The good thing about the year drawing to an end is the food I cook to ward off the blues of the golden season!
I've been on one of my favourite sites 'Retro Food Recipes' (see my list of favourite sites below somewhere) and it's made me want to do all things creatively culinary!
I know Chicken Kiev is naff, likewise Beef Strogonoff and Lancashire Hot Pot but these dishes are so perfect in every way that I must make them immediately. I've made Chicken Kiev many times of course and it never fails to please, especially when the first puddle of hot garlic butter oozes out. I'm getting quite excited.
Reading 'Retro Food Recipes' has certainly got my juices flowing but it's not only the grub, it's finding out that my beloved Mary Berry wrote a book in 1977 called 'Day by Day Cooking'. I'm in a flap over this because I thought I knew all the books Mrs Berry had written. I've got some of them but this one is new to me. Gotta get it.
Some time soon I'll post a list of my favourite recipe books, it'll be a hotch potch list because I'm a hotch potch kind of cook.
Got womanly things to do today.
These womanly things consisting of:
Deciding which skirt to wear. Running the car engine for five minutes because I don't want to stall at the mini-roundabout again. Talking to pigeons. Packing a banana in my handbag in case I go a bit funny on the train.
Thursday, 27 November 2008
Wednesday, 26 November 2008
Yellow Rose Poem
I haven't written much poetry lately so this next offering came as a surprise to me. It's a little sad because I feel a little sad and I promised myself I wouldn't post anything maudlin, but emotions dictate otherwise. And there is indeed a flower in my front garden, not a pink rose like before, but a yellow one. It's scrawny and looks young and disappointed. Disappointed because it's missed the summer and now has to rest its delicate head on a brick wall.
Crouched, the single flower hovers,
between rampant old foliage
and
a freezing death
This beautiful flower
hangs its head
waiting like a frightened child
for the punch from Winters fist
My heart is out there with it
but can offer nothing but
warm tears
We suffer together.
Crouched, the single flower hovers,
between rampant old foliage
and
a freezing death
This beautiful flower
hangs its head
waiting like a frightened child
for the punch from Winters fist
My heart is out there with it
but can offer nothing but
warm tears
We suffer together.
Christmas Food and The Perfect Toad
Seeing as Christmas isn't too far away I thought I'd better make a start on the menus. Er...what? I say. Because as much as I like to think I'm adventurous I always end up making the same things.
And here they are:
Salmon Puffs. A recipe I cut out from 'Family Circle' magazine twenty years ago. They go well with a nice pint of Port. And are especially good when watching late night violent Christmas films.
Mincemeat Cake. A fabulous homely Krimble cake from my favourite cook, Mary Berry. As it's baking it fills the house with warm spicy aromas. It really does.
St.Stephens Pudding. A Delia Smith recipe and a pudding even my Christmas pudding hating Dad likes. He asks me every year to make one and lug it up to London, so they can re-heat it in the microwave. I do and they do. It's less heavy than the traditional Christmas pud and I serve it with custard. Never cream. Please don't fight me on this. OK?
Minestrone Soup. Yep. Soup. I make this on one of the days when I'm so zonked from shopping and erecting baubles that four pints of soup is all I can muster. Keeps us going for a couple of days. Serve it with a giant cheese scone. Well, six inches in diameter actually.
Sticky Toffee Cakes. These are fabulous. Similar to Sticky Toffee Puddings but these can be served cold as well as hot. They possess all my favourite things...Dates, coffee, brown sugar and cream. Eating this and I'm in puddingy cakey heaven.
Yule Log. Oh dear do I love that log. Made with chestnut puree and covered in whipped cream. I will not stick an inch of plastic holly in it like I did last year. No. I won't.
Mince Pies. Stupid. Always made in fluted bun tins. Always stick. Made with butter pastry instead of margarine pastry, it is Christmas after all.
Latimer Beef. Mary Berry recipe. Always have this Christmas Eve. Have braised red cabbage with it and jacket potatoes. I make this dish all year but it tastes nicer somehow with bits of tinsel floating on the top.
Cooked Breakfasts. Fried bread, black pudding, eggs, tomatoes and bacon. Maybe a giant flat mushroom too.
Trifle. Simple strawberry, but I do overdo it on the flaked almonds.
Glo cooks a lot and today is no exception.
Toad-in-The-Hole, made with decent bangers and quite a lot of onions. The one thing that drives me bonkers with Toads is the Battle with the Batter. Toad batter is notoriously difficult because it sometimes doesn't rise as much as Toadie lovers demand. It can be a bit flat in the centre and rise like almighty pillars at the sides. I used to stare at those pillars in disbelief. But then I found what I consider to be the perfect batter recipe. It's from a skinny flicked-to-bits paperback book called "Goode For One" by another fav cook of mine, Shirley Goode. The recipe serves One, funnily enough, but the batter rises magnificently if put in a smallish roasting tin. Thanks Shirl.
I always like to personalise recipes, put a little bit of me in it if you will. So when I make today's Toad, a spoonful of dried sage will go in the batter along with a chopped onion. But the most important part of the Toad is his sausage so I use the best I can get my hands on.
That's enough culinary for now.
Thank you.
And here they are:
Salmon Puffs. A recipe I cut out from 'Family Circle' magazine twenty years ago. They go well with a nice pint of Port. And are especially good when watching late night violent Christmas films.
Mincemeat Cake. A fabulous homely Krimble cake from my favourite cook, Mary Berry. As it's baking it fills the house with warm spicy aromas. It really does.
St.Stephens Pudding. A Delia Smith recipe and a pudding even my Christmas pudding hating Dad likes. He asks me every year to make one and lug it up to London, so they can re-heat it in the microwave. I do and they do. It's less heavy than the traditional Christmas pud and I serve it with custard. Never cream. Please don't fight me on this. OK?
Minestrone Soup. Yep. Soup. I make this on one of the days when I'm so zonked from shopping and erecting baubles that four pints of soup is all I can muster. Keeps us going for a couple of days. Serve it with a giant cheese scone. Well, six inches in diameter actually.
Sticky Toffee Cakes. These are fabulous. Similar to Sticky Toffee Puddings but these can be served cold as well as hot. They possess all my favourite things...Dates, coffee, brown sugar and cream. Eating this and I'm in puddingy cakey heaven.
Yule Log. Oh dear do I love that log. Made with chestnut puree and covered in whipped cream. I will not stick an inch of plastic holly in it like I did last year. No. I won't.
Mince Pies. Stupid. Always made in fluted bun tins. Always stick. Made with butter pastry instead of margarine pastry, it is Christmas after all.
Latimer Beef. Mary Berry recipe. Always have this Christmas Eve. Have braised red cabbage with it and jacket potatoes. I make this dish all year but it tastes nicer somehow with bits of tinsel floating on the top.
Cooked Breakfasts. Fried bread, black pudding, eggs, tomatoes and bacon. Maybe a giant flat mushroom too.
Trifle. Simple strawberry, but I do overdo it on the flaked almonds.
Glo cooks a lot and today is no exception.
Toad-in-The-Hole, made with decent bangers and quite a lot of onions. The one thing that drives me bonkers with Toads is the Battle with the Batter. Toad batter is notoriously difficult because it sometimes doesn't rise as much as Toadie lovers demand. It can be a bit flat in the centre and rise like almighty pillars at the sides. I used to stare at those pillars in disbelief. But then I found what I consider to be the perfect batter recipe. It's from a skinny flicked-to-bits paperback book called "Goode For One" by another fav cook of mine, Shirley Goode. The recipe serves One, funnily enough, but the batter rises magnificently if put in a smallish roasting tin. Thanks Shirl.
I always like to personalise recipes, put a little bit of me in it if you will. So when I make today's Toad, a spoonful of dried sage will go in the batter along with a chopped onion. But the most important part of the Toad is his sausage so I use the best I can get my hands on.
That's enough culinary for now.
Thank you.
Tuesday, 25 November 2008
Just What The Doc Ordered.
Just having a quick five minute sit down before I make a Tea-Bread.
Went to charity shop and was grabbed by the vases by a jolly talkative volunteer. When he saw what was in my arms; small rose embossed glass bowl, a grubby old 8 inch plastic Santa and a thick 10 inch Frankincense candle he made a merry quip about getting it all in for Christmas. I smiled weakly and sneezed over him. That shut him up.
Popped into Somerfields. Got bottle of seasonal bleach, whatever that is, and a piece of rump steak with a reduced sticker stuck on it. I'm happy:)
Now Tea Bread, curtains and glass of Port. Medicinal.
Went to charity shop and was grabbed by the vases by a jolly talkative volunteer. When he saw what was in my arms; small rose embossed glass bowl, a grubby old 8 inch plastic Santa and a thick 10 inch Frankincense candle he made a merry quip about getting it all in for Christmas. I smiled weakly and sneezed over him. That shut him up.
Popped into Somerfields. Got bottle of seasonal bleach, whatever that is, and a piece of rump steak with a reduced sticker stuck on it. I'm happy:)
Now Tea Bread, curtains and glass of Port. Medicinal.
Birds and Bowls
What with all the hullabaloo over 'The X Factor', (apparently it's fixed), the government's I.D. Card scheme (it's unwelcome) and the sudden snap of cold weather (it's winter, nearly) I feel like going back to bed and never getting up again. But I won't. Because even with all these awful things happening I still need to change the curtains, moisturize my legs and look for big bowls. Life goes on.
So after I've clambered on the sink bypassing Monty, I'll attempt and I do say attempt, attempt to re-introduce a cottagey feel to the kitchen with the re-introduction of a nice bit of net curtain and brightly coloured bowls set upon the windowsill. Then tea.
I'm not sure if I should go out today on account of me still bearing bravely a truly awful cold, had it for nearly two weeks and the blighter shows no signs of abating. Maybe I should pop to the shops and spread it around a bit!
What to cook tonight, now there's a question, probably plump for Chicken risotto followed by a good helping of steamed syrup pudding. I need to gain some weight you see, because yesterday I went into the garden and the sparrows laughed.
So on Glo's to do list:
Cooking a bird.
Stirring fattening mixtures.
Heading down with head down to the local shop.
Turning into a frilly housewife with big bowls and lacey curtains.
Scouring Monty's tum with a Brillo pad.
Tea.
Feeding Birds.
So after I've clambered on the sink bypassing Monty, I'll attempt and I do say attempt, attempt to re-introduce a cottagey feel to the kitchen with the re-introduction of a nice bit of net curtain and brightly coloured bowls set upon the windowsill. Then tea.
I'm not sure if I should go out today on account of me still bearing bravely a truly awful cold, had it for nearly two weeks and the blighter shows no signs of abating. Maybe I should pop to the shops and spread it around a bit!
What to cook tonight, now there's a question, probably plump for Chicken risotto followed by a good helping of steamed syrup pudding. I need to gain some weight you see, because yesterday I went into the garden and the sparrows laughed.
So on Glo's to do list:
Cooking a bird.
Stirring fattening mixtures.
Heading down with head down to the local shop.
Turning into a frilly housewife with big bowls and lacey curtains.
Scouring Monty's tum with a Brillo pad.
Tea.
Feeding Birds.
Monday, 24 November 2008
Desperate Housewife
Here I am goofing in the office nearly two years ago. I've put it on here because I need to see something funny on this bleak and dismal day.
I'm stopping now because this is supposed to be breezy blog, not a whining old blog. Er...I've got a cold and a backache. My left eye looks a bit odd. I'm fed up with Sainsbury's sending me money-off vouchers, just lower your prices you tight-fisted old crows. Monty is being an almighty pain in the neck today, he ran into the garden after seeing a pair if pigeons on the fence, he then got all wet and tangled in my Maple tree/shrub/bush. Silly puss.
I had four sausages in the fridge so I put them and two carrots and half a pint of apple juice in a big green dish, will casserole them for tonight. But I don't want them I want another curry.
I've cancelled an appointment with my hairdresser on account of two facts. 1. I'm in a right bad mood and 2. She talks too much.
Things I Love: Curry and Lipsticks.
Thank You Goodbye.
I'm stopping now because this is supposed to be breezy blog, not a whining old blog. Er...I've got a cold and a backache. My left eye looks a bit odd. I'm fed up with Sainsbury's sending me money-off vouchers, just lower your prices you tight-fisted old crows. Monty is being an almighty pain in the neck today, he ran into the garden after seeing a pair if pigeons on the fence, he then got all wet and tangled in my Maple tree/shrub/bush. Silly puss.
I had four sausages in the fridge so I put them and two carrots and half a pint of apple juice in a big green dish, will casserole them for tonight. But I don't want them I want another curry.
I've cancelled an appointment with my hairdresser on account of two facts. 1. I'm in a right bad mood and 2. She talks too much.
Things I Love: Curry and Lipsticks.
Thank You Goodbye.
Saturday, 22 November 2008
Silly Saturday
Just popped in to say I bought two hats today.
One is a very proper grey beret with a little winkle on the top and the other is a very naughty black trilby with no winkle anywhere.
I made a curry tonight and drank Port with it then I had chocolate now I feel glurky.
I need to get my hair cut.
Monty is asleep on a selection of box files.
"Take That" are guesting on The X Factor. I fancy Gary Barlow. I do not fancy the other one.
I saw the most fantastic Jasper Conran handbag today in Debenhams. It was so gorgeous and perfect I modelled it in front of a big long mirror but I had to put it back because it cost £75. And I only had £10.
The skin on my knees is very soft.
One is a very proper grey beret with a little winkle on the top and the other is a very naughty black trilby with no winkle anywhere.
I made a curry tonight and drank Port with it then I had chocolate now I feel glurky.
I need to get my hair cut.
Monty is asleep on a selection of box files.
"Take That" are guesting on The X Factor. I fancy Gary Barlow. I do not fancy the other one.
I saw the most fantastic Jasper Conran handbag today in Debenhams. It was so gorgeous and perfect I modelled it in front of a big long mirror but I had to put it back because it cost £75. And I only had £10.
The skin on my knees is very soft.
Thursday, 20 November 2008
After wasting more money in Sainsbury's I came home to a mental Monty. The first class clown had some sort of fluff upon his person, all over his hairy chops it was, I later discovered he'd managed to open a grubby cupboard and therein lie!.
What a love he is...
So after wiping away the aforementioned fluff, much to the chagrin of the Mont meister I have to say, I had a cucumber sandwich.
Then after all that I marinated some small chicken thighs for tomorrow, gelled up my hair and then wrote a fine piece of erotica.
The two aren't linked.
The night is so young and I'm listening to Soul tunes in my much loved much neglected office. Isn't it odd how the things we love the most are the things we feel we can dis the most? Just a thought.
So now with a longish evening ahead of me I'll spruce myself up with more creams, I do love creaming myself, especially on a Thursday.
I hope I sleep better tonight because the past two nights have been awful and I look terrible.
Or is it the other way around?
What a love he is...
So after wiping away the aforementioned fluff, much to the chagrin of the Mont meister I have to say, I had a cucumber sandwich.
Then after all that I marinated some small chicken thighs for tomorrow, gelled up my hair and then wrote a fine piece of erotica.
The two aren't linked.
The night is so young and I'm listening to Soul tunes in my much loved much neglected office. Isn't it odd how the things we love the most are the things we feel we can dis the most? Just a thought.
So now with a longish evening ahead of me I'll spruce myself up with more creams, I do love creaming myself, especially on a Thursday.
I hope I sleep better tonight because the past two nights have been awful and I look terrible.
Or is it the other way around?
I had another restless night.
And in the middle of this restless night poor Monty was mistaken for clothing as I patted around the bottom of the bed in darkness in search of my red dressing gown. He miaowed as I tried to wear him!
So up I got, and me and Monty went to the kitchen. Again. What I need to know is why, when I'm up before the birdies, do I walk slower?
Alright that's enough of that nonsense.
England beat the Germans last night, which is always nice. But because of what is going on at home I actually forgot they were playing. My mind is very elsewhere. I've no idea how I'm going to get through the next few days, I only hope that the job folk put me out of this misery sooner rather than later.
So to take my mind off of this torture I'll endure another slightly sweeter torture, Sainsbury's. I'll wrap myself up in jeans and thick woolly and head down Victoria Avenue to the big orange and white shop.
On the menu today: Lasagne.
On the agenda today: Shopping, re-arranging dust, putting more elderly tomato plants in re-cycle bin, having mobile phone tied round my neck with something quite long and safe, pacing Glo's bungalow knowing I've blown it, incessant downing of tea, talking to Monty like he understands.
And in the middle of this restless night poor Monty was mistaken for clothing as I patted around the bottom of the bed in darkness in search of my red dressing gown. He miaowed as I tried to wear him!
So up I got, and me and Monty went to the kitchen. Again. What I need to know is why, when I'm up before the birdies, do I walk slower?
Alright that's enough of that nonsense.
England beat the Germans last night, which is always nice. But because of what is going on at home I actually forgot they were playing. My mind is very elsewhere. I've no idea how I'm going to get through the next few days, I only hope that the job folk put me out of this misery sooner rather than later.
So to take my mind off of this torture I'll endure another slightly sweeter torture, Sainsbury's. I'll wrap myself up in jeans and thick woolly and head down Victoria Avenue to the big orange and white shop.
On the menu today: Lasagne.
On the agenda today: Shopping, re-arranging dust, putting more elderly tomato plants in re-cycle bin, having mobile phone tied round my neck with something quite long and safe, pacing Glo's bungalow knowing I've blown it, incessant downing of tea, talking to Monty like he understands.
Wednesday, 19 November 2008
Engerland, Engerland
I forgot that England were playing Germany tonight. Ooops!
Monty is wearing his red and white helmet and guzzling Port.
I am wearing my England T-shirt and sipping Tea.
Monty is wearing his red and white helmet and guzzling Port.
I am wearing my England T-shirt and sipping Tea.
Well...
After a horrendous night (awake at 3 a.m. making cocoa and watching the news) I finally managed to get myself into gear and toddle off to my job interview at ten. I'll not go into laborious detail but suffice to say I want this job. I want it desperately. In fact I don't think I've ever wanted anything so much. If and it's an almighty if, if I manage to land the position I'll bore you to death with the minutiae over the next few weeks. Bet you can't wait:(
Anyway, I did my best and that's all I could do.
Now I wait...
I'm not in the mood for cooking, eating, playing, writing, telly, radio or shopping so I'm going to rest. I feel I need to and I'm a great believer in listening to one's body and mine is saying "Oy you, take a break". So I will.
Just before I hibernate I must just tell you about my sniffles, they're petering out...My God this is a good blog;)
After a horrendous night (awake at 3 a.m. making cocoa and watching the news) I finally managed to get myself into gear and toddle off to my job interview at ten. I'll not go into laborious detail but suffice to say I want this job. I want it desperately. In fact I don't think I've ever wanted anything so much. If and it's an almighty if, if I manage to land the position I'll bore you to death with the minutiae over the next few weeks. Bet you can't wait:(
Anyway, I did my best and that's all I could do.
Now I wait...
I'm not in the mood for cooking, eating, playing, writing, telly, radio or shopping so I'm going to rest. I feel I need to and I'm a great believer in listening to one's body and mine is saying "Oy you, take a break". So I will.
Just before I hibernate I must just tell you about my sniffles, they're petering out...My God this is a good blog;)
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
Something is happening to my brain and I'm not sure if I like it.
Things on the domestic front are a-changing and I don't like change, even when it may be for the best. So with several bits of scary home stuff occurring I'm getting in a state and I'm unsure how to deal with it. And then on top of that I'm finding it difficult, if not impossible, to write. Apart from last nights abysmal poetic effort, not much creative outpourings of any worth have been written. Although having said that I am still penning secret womanly love words in my secret womanly red love book and very pleased with them I am too. But to blog about love and sex is so last summer so I won't be filling these white innocent pages with erotica, after all it's autumn now and life is slowing down and so along with the drying up of leaves, my Muse has withered up, signed orf and all but left me for dead. What am I going to do without her? Probably be alright...
Ideas written on a piece of paper and magnetted to the fridge are....
Chicken Goulash/Chicken Strogonoff/Trifle/Steak Pie with Puff Pastry/Cherry Cheesecake made with tinned cherries/Fruity Indian Chicken/Something with Pork chops ketchup, brown sugar and worcestireshire sauce?/Vanilla Ice Cream with Butterscotch sauce/Poor Knights of Windsor/Lemon Puddle Pudding/Chocolate Puddle Pudding/Ginger and Garlic Crusted Potatoes/Monty's biscuits/
Other things magnetted to fridge...Money off coupons/local newspaper article about the portable make believe plastic ice rink that's coming to Rochford Square a few days before Christmas/recipe for Strawberry and Mascarpone Puffs/What-Not-To-Do list for tomorrow/A scrap of paper with the Serenity Prayer writ large.
Now I must iron a skirt, blouse and industrial vest on account of my job interview tomorrow...Oh God I can't do this.
Things on the domestic front are a-changing and I don't like change, even when it may be for the best. So with several bits of scary home stuff occurring I'm getting in a state and I'm unsure how to deal with it. And then on top of that I'm finding it difficult, if not impossible, to write. Apart from last nights abysmal poetic effort, not much creative outpourings of any worth have been written. Although having said that I am still penning secret womanly love words in my secret womanly red love book and very pleased with them I am too. But to blog about love and sex is so last summer so I won't be filling these white innocent pages with erotica, after all it's autumn now and life is slowing down and so along with the drying up of leaves, my Muse has withered up, signed orf and all but left me for dead. What am I going to do without her? Probably be alright...
Ideas written on a piece of paper and magnetted to the fridge are....
Chicken Goulash/Chicken Strogonoff/Trifle/Steak Pie with Puff Pastry/Cherry Cheesecake made with tinned cherries/Fruity Indian Chicken/Something with Pork chops ketchup, brown sugar and worcestireshire sauce?/Vanilla Ice Cream with Butterscotch sauce/Poor Knights of Windsor/Lemon Puddle Pudding/Chocolate Puddle Pudding/Ginger and Garlic Crusted Potatoes/Monty's biscuits/
Other things magnetted to fridge...Money off coupons/local newspaper article about the portable make believe plastic ice rink that's coming to Rochford Square a few days before Christmas/recipe for Strawberry and Mascarpone Puffs/What-Not-To-Do list for tomorrow/A scrap of paper with the Serenity Prayer writ large.
Now I must iron a skirt, blouse and industrial vest on account of my job interview tomorrow...Oh God I can't do this.
Monday, 17 November 2008
My Muse is disappearing into the wall and that is good because now I can concentrate on real life. And real life is always better than fantasy. Isn't it?
"Forcing myself out from under your cloak
I grasp the hands of the sun
allowing the pain
to scar me
it makes me
And I'm not afraid"
(My Muse doesn't leave without a fight...Bless Her)
It's been a queer day.
Decent humdrum mixed with a surprising phone call which could, could change my life a little. (I'm such a drama queen!)
So now with this stinking cold for company and a funny old day behind me, I go to bed to wonder.
"Forcing myself out from under your cloak
I grasp the hands of the sun
allowing the pain
to scar me
it makes me
And I'm not afraid"
(My Muse doesn't leave without a fight...Bless Her)
It's been a queer day.
Decent humdrum mixed with a surprising phone call which could, could change my life a little. (I'm such a drama queen!)
So now with this stinking cold for company and a funny old day behind me, I go to bed to wonder.
Monty Eyes Up A Warm Lunch
I'd heard the familiar sound of Monty landing amongst the pepper mill, salt cellar and kitchen scales and thought nothing of it, after all he's always clambering up on places where he has no right to be but then when I went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea this is what greeted me. So I fumbled in my pinny pocket for my mobile phone and very very quickly pushed the camera button and hey presto I captured this fab pic.I've always thought pigeons were a bit daft, but to sit on a windowsill peering in at a killer is just plain stupid. Good job Monty doesn't have an iron fist and an empty tummy otherwise that pigeon would just be a pile of feathers!
Anyway, back to today, I've got a cold and a sore throat and am in no mood for anything really except maybe a cup of hot chocolate and a cuddle. I've got the chocolate right by me, now where's Monty?
When I'm under the weather all I want to do is hide away in the kitchen with dear old familiar things...So after I've finished this post I'll re-arrange my storage jars and recipe books whilst at the same time watching as Columbo solves yet another heinous crime on Channel 5 just after three. Achoooo!
Thursday, 13 November 2008
My Muse, Monty and Dad's Meatballs
My Muse has gone away, and I miss her.
I've been struggling to write something, something beautiful or even mediocre but each time my fingers hovered over the keyboard they looked like a ten legged spider with nowhere to go.
With no poetry flowing I've had to read again past efforts, I've even toyed with the idea of editing some, which is anathema to me. Where's my Muse? I thought she liked me.
With very little literary creativity going on today I'll consign myself to the kitchen and make beautiful things in there.
So, with a visit to the old London people tomorrow, I'll be making up a food parcel which will not only contain the ubiquitous cake but half a dozen Meatballs! Dad's decided to get dangerous and risk some queer gear.
On my agenda today:
Quick dash to the shops for Passata, naans and toothpaste.
Make Meatballs in an anglicized Italian tomato sauce.
Make Latimer Beef for tomorrow night and fridge it.
Make an old people's cake. Madeira probably.
Watch Monty watching pigeons. Got a great pic of that...
Re-arrange dust in all rooms.
Tuna sandwich and crisps for lunch about one.
Try to snatch forty winks sometime after two.
Post-lunch but pre-winks, fantasize about The X Factor's Daniel coming round to clean my fantasy swimming pool.
Thank you.
I've been struggling to write something, something beautiful or even mediocre but each time my fingers hovered over the keyboard they looked like a ten legged spider with nowhere to go.
With no poetry flowing I've had to read again past efforts, I've even toyed with the idea of editing some, which is anathema to me. Where's my Muse? I thought she liked me.
With very little literary creativity going on today I'll consign myself to the kitchen and make beautiful things in there.
So, with a visit to the old London people tomorrow, I'll be making up a food parcel which will not only contain the ubiquitous cake but half a dozen Meatballs! Dad's decided to get dangerous and risk some queer gear.
On my agenda today:
Quick dash to the shops for Passata, naans and toothpaste.
Make Meatballs in an anglicized Italian tomato sauce.
Make Latimer Beef for tomorrow night and fridge it.
Make an old people's cake. Madeira probably.
Watch Monty watching pigeons. Got a great pic of that...
Re-arrange dust in all rooms.
Tuna sandwich and crisps for lunch about one.
Try to snatch forty winks sometime after two.
Post-lunch but pre-winks, fantasize about The X Factor's Daniel coming round to clean my fantasy swimming pool.
Thank you.
Wednesday, 12 November 2008
On Monday it teemed with rain, yesterday I was blown along the road and today I'll be bathed in watery sunshine. British autumnal weather, dontcha just love it?
After a night of deep sleep I woke at dawn to the feel of Monty stalking the bed. His padded feet did a complete circuit (is that the right word?) of the bed and then stopped at my neck. I'm gonna get my ears nipped I thought, but no, he behaved impeccably and instead of sucking out his mums earplugs he merely whimpered sweet purrings. Of course having a mighty beastly babe like Monty dribbling on your duvet means you're not going to go back to sleep, so up I got. It was eaaaarrrrlllly! But the best thing to do when you're lying awake is to er...get up because if you're anything like me, laying in bed doing nothing brings on the sadness. And I've had enough of the blues to last a lifetime thank you very much.
So I sprung out, well, got out a bit quick to be more precise, and made a pot of tea. There were pigeons on the fence already and as I looked at them I thought "How come they always look tidy?". Monty pondered the remnants of his supper and said "You can shove that". So I did, because he's the boss.
I didn't read my emails instead I looked at:
my teeth, a spot on my left shoulder, the heavenly blue sky, my tummy, a pair of red and black suede shoes and chocolate cake crumbs on the kitchen floor. After doing all that I fed the birds and then burnt my knees on the heater.
Then I had two slices of toast and Marmite which I thought might bolt me into some kind of consciousness. Rubbish. What I needed was some more fresh cold air so I took Monty into the garden in a dressing gown and ridiculous slippers, that's me by the way not Monty. He stalked those decaying flower beds like an evil predator then someone's car started up and the silly old sausage scarpered back indoors.
Got things to do today things like making Toad-in-the-Hole, wishing Mum and Dad a happy 53rd Wedding anniversary and sellotaping excess skin behind ears.
The photo is of mum, dad and me outside our home in Southam Street, London W.10.
Tuesday, 11 November 2008
Monday, 10 November 2008
Er....Title or No Title
Lasagne or Chicken Pie
White shirt or red sweater
Grey socks or black stockings?
Blue Jeans or purple skirt
Marmite or marmalade?
Radio 4 or Jeremy Kyle?
Big brown plastic bag or small blue leather bag?
Pink lipstick or red?
Cleaning my gentleman's house or phoning in sick?
Blogging or doing something with rotting tomato plants?
Smacking Monty's arse for licking out mummy's porridge bowl or hugging him?
I'm taking far too long to decide so it's time for tea...or coffee :(
White shirt or red sweater
Grey socks or black stockings?
Blue Jeans or purple skirt
Marmite or marmalade?
Radio 4 or Jeremy Kyle?
Big brown plastic bag or small blue leather bag?
Pink lipstick or red?
Cleaning my gentleman's house or phoning in sick?
Blogging or doing something with rotting tomato plants?
Smacking Monty's arse for licking out mummy's porridge bowl or hugging him?
I'm taking far too long to decide so it's time for tea...or coffee :(
Sunday, 9 November 2008
What's Cooking Today
Roast Chicken (medium sized unstuffed and on its own in the tin)
Sage and onion stuffing (home made because I like tons of sage)
Glazed parsnips and carrots (smothered in pepper, butter, lemon juice, brown sugar and honey)
Roast Pots (big crunchy ones)
Steamed cabbage (buttered, peppered and sea salted)
* * * * * * * * * * *
Apple Crumble and custard (a real proper pudding for a chilly Autumn day)
* * * * * * *
For tea
Chicken sandwiches (with the crusts cut orf)
Last of Friday's Bakewell Tart (which was baked in a roasting tin on account of me feeling all rustic and homely.
Sage and onion stuffing (home made because I like tons of sage)
Glazed parsnips and carrots (smothered in pepper, butter, lemon juice, brown sugar and honey)
Roast Pots (big crunchy ones)
Steamed cabbage (buttered, peppered and sea salted)
* * * * * * * * * * *
Apple Crumble and custard (a real proper pudding for a chilly Autumn day)
* * * * * * *
For tea
Chicken sandwiches (with the crusts cut orf)
Last of Friday's Bakewell Tart (which was baked in a roasting tin on account of me feeling all rustic and homely.
Thursday, 6 November 2008
Pablo
This charming fellow was bought last week.
He was showing-off on a shelf alongside a large white mixing bowl, a wicker basket and a cracked vase, all these things are usually fair game for me but with them being on sale in a charity shop in London's posh Queensway they naturally bore London prices, so I could only buy one.
I chose 'Pablo'. He now poses on top of a bookcase (the one I've been shoving around a lot) I just hope he settles in nicely.
I've been collecting this sort of paraphernalia since I was 17 or so, started when me and mum found a 'Shelter' charity shop in the aforementioned Queensway in 1973. I was an innocent poor pale faced teenager (I know it's hard to believe I was pale faced) anyway I needed to be dressed correctly for lounging about in the college canteen so when I came across this shop I thought I'd hit the jackpot.
The very first thing I bought were a pair of banana yellow clogs for 20p. And that's when 20p meant something. Other stuff acquired were a pair of purple starry trousers, a glittery halter-neck top and a small mans sheepskin jacket (£1). By the way whoever decided to throw that jacket out must have been bonkers because I wore it for about five years, it went a bit smooth round the cuffs but it was still lovely.
A lot of water has passed under the proverbial since then but I still can't think of a better way to spend both my time and money. Love it, love it, love it.
Something else I love is today's Art Quote.
On my to-do list is...
Visit the charity shop down the road then go to Somerfield because I forgot to buy Stewing Beef yesterday in dopey Sainsburys. Daft me
Make a dozen Rock Cakes
Sit up straight on account of my aching back. On the left side.
Wash my dirty brown feet. You should see the mud on the sheets. Disgraceful.
Wednesday, 5 November 2008
Stay Poem
I've just walked around the garden in my bare feet
the rained grass feeling like iced hands on my skin
and with each sopping step I felt the creamy earth cling to my toes like it had nowhere else to go
and on sticking my face skywards I wished today would stay.
the rained grass feeling like iced hands on my skin
and with each sopping step I felt the creamy earth cling to my toes like it had nowhere else to go
and on sticking my face skywards I wished today would stay.
A Good Day
This is turning out to be an awesome day for me on two counts.
The first being I'm in a great mood, the second being I'm still sizzling because of Barack's win. My trip around Sainsburys was not the humdrum affair it normally is, instead I almost did a waltz with the trolley, that's how good I felt. The traffic jams on the Ashingdon Road didn't faze me neither did the dug out pits beneath my eyes. Instead I dressed head to toe in my Boho gear and waved at bus drivers. Their smiles and thumbs up warranted further flirtatiousness, so I blew kisses at big strange men from Cuckoo Corner all the way down to Victoria Avenue. I wish every day was so good but I'm not going to worry or think about tomorrow or the days after because I feel good today, now, and that's all that matters.
The first being I'm in a great mood, the second being I'm still sizzling because of Barack's win. My trip around Sainsburys was not the humdrum affair it normally is, instead I almost did a waltz with the trolley, that's how good I felt. The traffic jams on the Ashingdon Road didn't faze me neither did the dug out pits beneath my eyes. Instead I dressed head to toe in my Boho gear and waved at bus drivers. Their smiles and thumbs up warranted further flirtatiousness, so I blew kisses at big strange men from Cuckoo Corner all the way down to Victoria Avenue. I wish every day was so good but I'm not going to worry or think about tomorrow or the days after because I feel good today, now, and that's all that matters.
Tuesday, 4 November 2008
I'm So Excited!
I can't eat anything.
I can't do anything.
And all because of what's happening across the Pond!
Being a bit of a delicate flower I'll need to crease the sheets earlyish on account of having to get up earlyish but you can rest assured my raspberry jelly will be on as soon as my eyes flick open.
I can't wait.....!!!
I can't do anything.
And all because of what's happening across the Pond!
Being a bit of a delicate flower I'll need to crease the sheets earlyish on account of having to get up earlyish but you can rest assured my raspberry jelly will be on as soon as my eyes flick open.
I can't wait.....!!!
Hope
Prettily written on a scrap of paper and held onto the fridge by insect magnets is my to-do list...Check out BBC News 24 and Sky News on account of it being a huge day in America
Make a Lemon and Poppy Seed Traybake, hope it doesn't sink
Make a Cottage Pie, hope I make enough
Re-arrange a chicken and frog on doorstep, hope they sit well together
Look in loft for box of Christmas baubles, hope they're not crushed
Pop in a new 'Plug-In' Air Freshener, hope it doesn't cost much
Drink breakfast tea hoping Barack wins
Monday, 3 November 2008
I wonder what Barack and John are doing now, probably imagining life in the White House.
I know John is a proud American who fought for his country but I hope it's Barack who gets to save it. Tomorrow could be one of the most memorable days in America's history.
And I'm going to witness it.
On that wonderfully exciting note I'll wrap myself not in any flags, but in my red dressing gown and head to bed thinking about tomorrow...
I know John is a proud American who fought for his country but I hope it's Barack who gets to save it. Tomorrow could be one of the most memorable days in America's history.
And I'm going to witness it.
On that wonderfully exciting note I'll wrap myself not in any flags, but in my red dressing gown and head to bed thinking about tomorrow...
Barry's Big Day Beckons
The election for the most powerful man on the planet takes place tomorrow.
And I can't wait to jump between Sky News and BBC News24 catching all the latest info on what's occurring over the Pond.
Mr Obama is maintaining a steady lead over Mr McCain but will the results match what the pollsters are being told or will it be a case of the 'Bradley' effect. Whereby voters said they would be voting for Tom Bradley, an African American who was running for Governor of California in 1982 but when voters entered the polling booths they changed their minds.
Like I've said on numerous occasions, I'm no expert on American politics but I hope the American people give Barack (Barry) Obama a chance, a chance to smooth over the frenzied brows of worried Americans. And also it'd be nice to see a younger woman in the shape of Michelle Obama rustling the feathers of the pristine White House brigade, I can imagine her re-arranging the furniture in the Oval Office making it feel like a home from home for her husband.
The Obama's remind me of John and Jackie Kennedy, not that I'm quite old enough to remember them that well, but I love the idea of fresh faced Barack and his pretty wife whipping up a storm in the corridors of Washington.
Their kids Malia and Natasha might brighten up the joint as well.
Well we don't have long to wait now...
I've been totally engrossed in the whole thing, and was often caught watching both the Vice Presidential and Presidential debates wearing my pyjamas like a kid watching The Simpsons only I didn't as laugh much, I just drank in the electrifying atmosphere and wished we here in Britain could put on such a superb piece of political theatre like our Cousins. But we're just an island jam packed with bitchy old queens who love slapping posh and pleb wrists and then sneering as yet another plumped up politician falls on his arse.
The American conventions are pure Broadway, we however do The Kings Theatre, Worthing!
Anyway, not long for your Queen to wait and as she does so she's wiping away tears, tears of disbelief as one of my favs in The X Factor got clobbered on Saturday. Austin was in a sing off with my other fav Rachel and the judges decided in their weird wisdom that the Essex boy should go. I was mortified, but I expect it won't be the last we see of him.
On the Horsehound agenda today:
Starting a shopping list. I'm getting older and things are taking longer to achieve so...
Looking for cake recipes (again) My cake recipes are poetry to me.
Doing something with a stiff brush after four.
And I can't wait to jump between Sky News and BBC News24 catching all the latest info on what's occurring over the Pond.
Mr Obama is maintaining a steady lead over Mr McCain but will the results match what the pollsters are being told or will it be a case of the 'Bradley' effect. Whereby voters said they would be voting for Tom Bradley, an African American who was running for Governor of California in 1982 but when voters entered the polling booths they changed their minds.
Like I've said on numerous occasions, I'm no expert on American politics but I hope the American people give Barack (Barry) Obama a chance, a chance to smooth over the frenzied brows of worried Americans. And also it'd be nice to see a younger woman in the shape of Michelle Obama rustling the feathers of the pristine White House brigade, I can imagine her re-arranging the furniture in the Oval Office making it feel like a home from home for her husband.
The Obama's remind me of John and Jackie Kennedy, not that I'm quite old enough to remember them that well, but I love the idea of fresh faced Barack and his pretty wife whipping up a storm in the corridors of Washington.
Their kids Malia and Natasha might brighten up the joint as well.
Well we don't have long to wait now...
I've been totally engrossed in the whole thing, and was often caught watching both the Vice Presidential and Presidential debates wearing my pyjamas like a kid watching The Simpsons only I didn't as laugh much, I just drank in the electrifying atmosphere and wished we here in Britain could put on such a superb piece of political theatre like our Cousins. But we're just an island jam packed with bitchy old queens who love slapping posh and pleb wrists and then sneering as yet another plumped up politician falls on his arse.
The American conventions are pure Broadway, we however do The Kings Theatre, Worthing!
Anyway, not long for your Queen to wait and as she does so she's wiping away tears, tears of disbelief as one of my favs in The X Factor got clobbered on Saturday. Austin was in a sing off with my other fav Rachel and the judges decided in their weird wisdom that the Essex boy should go. I was mortified, but I expect it won't be the last we see of him.
On the Horsehound agenda today:
Starting a shopping list. I'm getting older and things are taking longer to achieve so...
Looking for cake recipes (again) My cake recipes are poetry to me.
Doing something with a stiff brush after four.
Saturday, 1 November 2008
Sweet and Savoury
The X Factor is on tonight and I've got a big bag of Butterkist Popcorn so...after talking the hind legs of a donkey with Mum and Dad I'll check the news on that bad BBC, and then I'll flick through recipe books in search of cake recipes, and then I'll go all savoury and make a large bowl of Indonesian (via Essex) Nasi Goreng.
After I've finished I'll pick up grains of wayward rice from the floor and run into the front room, remove my socks, and watch the next round of The X Factor.
After I've finished I'll pick up grains of wayward rice from the floor and run into the front room, remove my socks, and watch the next round of The X Factor.
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