After watching BBC Parliament I peeled some veg.
Party time doesn't get wilder than this:)
The veg by the way are red peppers, carrots and the Veg of Desperation...the pointed parsnip.
To add some vroom vroom to tonight's tea I'm roasting six fat bellied Sicilian sausages. Might dance while they sweat and threat....
Probably a half- cocked Tango.


Happy Night All!

Would you Adam and Eve it!

I hope you all have a quiet night.

I know I won't. Unusually for Mr Horsehound he has suggested we go with the yoof and spend this Eve at a discotheque. What is his world coming to? Being out of new frocks I think I'll use a little sweet persuasion, which will include a handful of Sicilian sausages and a promise, to show him that there are better ways to boogie than boiling under the spotlight with a mob of tanned giggling girls and muscley male sorts.
No, he will see in the new year with the old girl:)


If you decide to party then give it a million %.
Please.....Don't do half measures, they only frustrate.

Today

Baked a few sausage rolls. Adding chutney to give some ooompa ooompa.

Made some bread pudding. Thick moist and sweet sweet. Sultanas piercing their way through the top making the bread pud look like it has acne.

Felt righteous because I ate a couple of basted parsnips. Am becoming addicted to the queer shaped veg, there's something comforting about the aroma of a freshly boiled parsnip. But after a roasting with butter and honey they're positively wicked. Always stab them at the fat end so I can take bites all the way up their dripping length. Lovely.

Baked a little chocolate up- and- over pudding. Righteousness not lasting long...Rich yet light, sweet yet with an underbelly of slightly bitter cocoa.

Watched 'The Winslow Boy'. Good film with masterful Nigel Hawthorne as a dad intent on clearing his son's name. Kid accused of stealing a postal order. Lovely little boy who did 'anger' very well indeed.

Put out, around the corner by the dripping guttering, out of view of neighbours, some leftover corned beef for any wild animals which might come my way. Blow the busy bodies.

Had a lemon tea in a glass cup.

Watched Celebrity Mastermind. 'Celebs' being, a t.v. doc, a decathelete from yonks ago, pretty news reader Samira Ahmed (who won) and flipping food writer and restaurant critic Giles Coran. Loved his dad but for me, Giles is pale in comparison, but not as pale as his sis, Victoria. Oh dear. Nasal nepotism.

Fought off a headache with a chilly walk.

All in all a good little day.

The wooden table looked lovely, simple. Unadorned with just blue and white mis- matched crockery. The meal couldn't have been simpler, homemade Minestrone soup with a few soda rolls and oak smoked cheddar to accompany it.
To drink? Chilled cider in glass mugs.
Was it a perfect meal?
Yes.
Why?

Ample amounts of earthy food made by excited hands.... and at noon, around the table, wonderful company.


Tonight's fare is cafe food. Fat slices of Corned beef, oven baked chips and silly rolly abouty the platey peas... with buttered white bread and brown sauce to go with it all. To drink? Tea. For afters? Milk chocolate and dreams.

It's The Napoleon In Me That isTalking...

Half a Buche!

Meet my Mincemeat Cake...

A mere trifle.

Too many wedges of creamy chestnutty cake, too many Pringles and too many whopping great platefuls of sweetie brown parsnips!
Too many late late nights, a touchy too much nougat and a veritable gluttony in the shape of smoked salmon sandwiches.
An endless succulence of too much Turkish delight, a jiggling rainfall of chocolate peanuts and a noisy ensemble of jugs full of boiling custard.
And crumpets in the morning, crumpets in the evening and brandy in me coffee.

Festivities haven't ended yet...
Tomorrow we dine on pig. And syrup. And Cranberried Wensleydale.

Overall though I'm being a very good girl.
Haven't cursed once, haven't spat feathers and have only wished good health and happiness to all who have rung my bell, such is the lightness of my heart.

Keep it all up Glo:)

Here I am

My Buche de Noel is shaping up nicely;)

I love Christmas!

Hi Ya!

Be Of Good Cheer. Here.

Do Whatever Makes You Feel Good And If That Includes Checking My Blog Then Do It!



Merry Christmas To All



Mr Horsehound. The poor darling. Out buying bird food. But back to pepperoni pizza and picture taking:)



Nof and Mrs Nof. Gentle generous Quince loving souls who know how to love and cut up rough. Grandads and Nanas are always the worst.



Jerry. Mr Stars and Stripes. Great talker mostly about DVD boxed sets and kids getting hitched. Go stew some venison or something.



An Englishman Abroad. A true Sparkling White Diamond. x



Porsche Poet. Byron couldn't have put it better. Happy emails full of quality singing. An uplifting way to start the day.




The Duchess. Met online years ago and now, hopefully, after the white dress thing, meet for an English Cream Tea.



Jeffy. Brother of the Duchess. Life can suck can't it? But wait and it'll also blow...fair winds.



Sergeant Gaffer. No more truncheons for you matey but have a nice Christmas anyway.



Maniac Man. A.K.A Man with a Millionaires Mop. Don't dance with it dear, you'll just look silly.



Grubby Northerner. Big in every respect I expect.


I hope you all enjoy Christmas.
Whether you're with family, pals or would rather spend it on your own.
Which ever way you choose to spend it, spend it your way.
As for me and Mr Horsehound, I'll cook and allow him to photograph me. Pics to come.


P.S. Slept well last night due to a spoonful of Brandy in me coffee. But I don't drink.

Angela x x x x x x x x x x x

So huggable

Won't keep going on about the Lovelies but just need to say they appreciated my 7 a.m arrival. (I was up at 4:30a.m. aren't I good?) No not really. Not really at all, just enormously concerned about two rather frail stubborn duffers who have lead in their ears and toffee for brains.

Dad was better than yesterday, his tummy problem is sorting itself out so cross fingers he'll be able to enjoy a little of the good life over the next few days.

Went with Ma to the podiatary clinic, we saw Sean who did her bandages and praised her fortitude. Then we went home.

But not before we popped in the charity shop next to the launderette where I bought theeeee most gorgeous luxurious leather handbag. Yum yum, me licky the baggy cos it's so yum yum, the man on the till packaged it like it was pure liquid silken gold. So pleased was I with it, that I took it out of its swaddling to gaze at it by the fish shop. Mum's eyes twinkled.

Then indoors.
I hid her in blankets-a-plenty, watched dad falling asleep, had a cuppa and then gently said "I am leaving".
Then left.

It's still achingly bitterly brutal outside and in but I have a little harmless answer to that. Brandy flavoured coffee! As you know I don't drink at all but...as I needed some alcohol for an innocent holy cake I'm making I thought I might as well treat my wounds/ailments/psychosisessss with a spoonful of finest Napoleon in me nine p.m. coffee (Not really, it's Sainsbury's own, but it does have a golden French label so...) So Yes I'll be drowning me demons in an eggcupful of alcohol before the news.
Darn it all Harry, I won't be doing much else:(

Now the art of photography.
I will try and I do mean try, try to pose in a frock or two for Christmas and get meself digitally captured... (like that one up there) so all my fans can wish that it was they who were/are swishing me frothy 36% proof coffee. Ho hum:)

Now I really must fly. The kitchen is the pits, the cat is eating the wardrobe and I have fish to fillet.

If you're out and about tonight and beyond remember to do little acts of random kindness. They'll be returned a hundredfold. x

The Lovelies

Two large eco friendly jute bags sit side by side in the kitchen filled with goodies! Lots of pastries and cakes, one or two gifts and six cans of traditional no added sugar lemonade for mumsie. I can't wait to see their faces when I spread open their treasure chest. Reminds me in a way of when I was a kid, Christmas Eve was the only night I offered to go to bed early in the hope that St Nicholas soon would be there.......

And then, just before dawn I'd peep over the green candlewick spread and see, sitting fatly at the end of my bed, a white pillowcase.
I'd then scramble in my jim jams to the bountiful mound lunging my tiny hands inside.
I was given teddies, plastic cookers, post office sets, a Sindy clone called Pepper bought from a stall in Shepherd's Bush market and books and pens and pencils. All thrilling and magical just as diamonds and perfume and cash is now;)

Never ever got dressed Christmas day, much preferring with Mother's consent, to loaf about in new slippers eating toffees and watching her Majesty. Our tree in 1966 was great, a mixture of green and silver and topped with a red dressed fairy, didn't have lights though just velvetty and glassy balls in purple and gold..... how wonderful it all was. I loved it.

Anyway I remember the excitement and the wonder of tearing off reindeer wrapping paper to find trinkets which I remember to this day. I played with my pink cooker for hours!

It's wonderful to receive but more wonderful to give, that's why I lose the plot a little when Christmas comes round. I suppose I just love being Mrs Claus!

Tomorrow I'll enjoy, with all the embarrassing jollity of a middle aged woman whose still a kid at heart, the few hours I spend with the Lovelies, hoping they too feel the one thing I CAN'T wrap.....

Even great people need rest...

I need a rest and methinks HE might have one enforced upon him...

This afternoon I have made 18 chocolate and hazelnut fairy cakes, 1 large fruit cocktail trifle and 2 mini ones and 6 large apple danishes. And the cook-a-thon hasn't ended yet, as I write a pan of lentil bolog is simmering (for tomorrow) and some puff pastry is waiting to be filled with sausagemeat and chutney for a dozen or so sos rolls.
I have to say if it wasn't for my JFK dvd and the hoohah currently surounding Vince Cable I'd be flat on my face with exhaustion. Poor old Vince falling for the oldest trick in the grubby book, two Telegraph sorts posing as constituents and by so doing landing Uncle V. in killer water. Resign or no resign?
A small clique of politicians have been marching into number 1o to no doubt have a chin wag with Dave over what to do with nice but dumb Vince. I like him.
Well it's dirty old game is politics but it has kept me entertained since 3. So engrossed was I that I almost burnt the almonds.
Now I have to get going again, no peace for me, the wicked or politicians!
x

Oh What A Night!

My Pie was overdone!
All down to bad weather in extremis. Sounds good not sure what it means, However last night's din din was taken a little late because...Mr H was late. Because..... trains were crippled because of signal failure somewhere.
I don't like chicken pies after ten.

Talking of pies I will be making a couple of apple ones today on account of.....going to London tomorrow:) Whether the old lovelies want me to or not. Mum I'm a grown woman who isn't scared by weather in extremis and dad you can't lug a trolley around Marks now can you. Leave it to the kid with wheels.
So after this chilled post I'll cook a few bits and hunt down my long johns.

Other things occupying my mind.
Birds. (Not alone there, am I guys?)
Hair. Mine. Longer wilder. So hot clasped to my neck by condensation. Form a queue.
Sausagemeat. Enough for a dozen rolls? Yes if I roll it thinly.
Hips. Being a pain. Both. Massive intake of joint tabs so I can rock and roll. Well walk at least. Sex will be on a rota.
Money. But it's Christmas. Not a time for finking about filthy lucre. Wish I had a stodgier stash. Presents are meagre. So I'll give my love.
It's the longest day today or is it the shortest? Said something about a swimsuit a while back. Was mental. But here's one where I played at being a babe.
Making. Christmas cake, to cherry or not to cherry. Chocolate cake to button or not to button, apple Danishes, to overload or not....Whaddya you think;)

Now I must fly. Got a whole lot of loving to make:)

My name is Gloria and I am a Blogger

I bought a bottle of Brandy today but I don't drink. It will be used in a Buche de Noel that I'm making for Christmas Day and beyond.. What happens to the remainder is none of my concernnnnnnnnnn.
I bought a bottle of Cider today but I do not drink. It will be used in the braising of a couple of fowl legs. What happens to the remainder will have no bearing on my liver.
I wore a red hat today but I am not a twat. It will be used in a photo session which will take place on a table.
I spoke to only one or two male members today, one was a mere boy so of no interest to a cougar like what I am. The little lad from Southend United supporters club was on hand to pack my groceries in Sainsbury's. The other was a silver backed Alpha male who took my cash and WAS of interest to me especially as his topic of conversation was my red hat and his red nose.
Nothing pulls like a hat.

Didn't feel AS cold this morning when tortoising Mr H. to the snowed up station so, with the positively balmy temperature, I was feeling rather ok. So ok in fact that after I dropped of one grey man I almost offered another even slower older greyer man (dressed in bum-chiller and trainers on the Ashingdon Road), a ride home. But sense and self-preservation got the better of me. Sorry matey.

I will, later on this morning, after porridge and a phone call, head out to the shops once again. This loving decision has been made on account of not having enough bird food. I dare say I'll pick up a present or two too.
How love makes planks of us all.

Just before I leave I have to mention a film we watched Saturday night. 'SHUTTER'. A horror film set in Japan which was, to me at least, genuinely scary. Not much in celluloid has the power to make me wince, but SHUTTER did. A tale of vengeance, that's all I'll say. The last scene was sickening, not because of gore or anything obvious like that but because of its overwhelming suffocating terror. Still...it serves him right. Us women will have our revenge in this life and the next.

Now porridge:)

Recent Finds and all for under £3...For the LOT!

Forgot to add to the earlier list...

A kneeling pure white angel holding within its hands a pigeon. Kitsch is good...
Pics of all these treasures will, I hope, be appearing tomorrow.

Picked up Mr H. as the heavens opened and shoved out its snow. How it came down.
With wipers racing and heater on max asI drove the poor man directly to a garden centre where he picked up a nuclear sized cannister of Calor gas. How stunning the landscape looks at five miles an hour. And how like a tortoise I drove...Ice and gas not going well together methought.
(Yes Digger, tortoises DO drive)

I'm cooking a Chilli con Carne tonight and as I forgot the kidney beans (call yourself a cook Horsehound?) I'm using a can of chick peas and a can of baked beans instead. Popped a green pepper in along with a good amount of crushed dried chilli and garlic. Will serve this wind chime meal with a bowl of rice and crushed tortilla chips. Also baking as I speak, a chocolate fudge cake, this sex-in-a-tin affair will keep us propped up for a day or three.

Absolutely must fly. Oven just ping pinged:)

As I waited for Mr H's homecoming ( overnighter) I thought I'd pop out to get a cabbage...
Hours later I returned with...

A small silver coloured lacey effect basket with yellow and pink enamel flowers a-top it. For mum. Will fill it with fruity jellies on account of nuts giving her a bad time.

A tall cream coloured jug decorated with hanging hazelnuts (?) and with an elegant neck. Perfect for water or silk flowers. Can one have too many jugs. Me thinks not. Jugs are practical, jugs are beautiful sentiments of which William Morris would approve.

A heavyweight, green, spiky eared big eyed cat. Small but impressive. A cat you don't mess with. This cat who I've christened Tremedous is not the kind of puss I usually fall for but there's something lonely and sad about him so that's why I've taken him in. Even growlers need petting.

A cow.

Then into the Co-Op...
Where, would you believe they had sparse shelves? Hopeless. But at least I got a cabbage:)
And bacon.
And almonds.
And unadulterated deep red glace cherries soaked in Morello cherry juice.
That was some expensive cabbage:(

Now I must fly into the fire:)

A Place Like Sky

I wish I could think of a way to describe the night sky
Right now.
Velvet black is insulting
A poet's poor use of words

But what is it then, up there?
A motionless field of magnetic blue soothing women on the brink of desertion
a blank card for swearing at by men on their final last final pint
or an endless walkway to heaven in the minds of smitten young girls

A fathomless sea perhaps with no edge or border pure without wreckage from ships gone by
a desert with no footprints
or a sweet widespread satinesque sheet in iron ore blue
not muddied with the stains of gory sexplosions

An adventurous girl with no-one at home
could flourish in a place like sky.



No idea why I wrote this. Might be the colour and texture of my gloves. Velvet black. Matching the ceiling outside....

A Fisherman's Friend Perhaps...

Just got in from a bitterly cold London. Letters and stuff awash on the doormat.
And am very very pleased on account of a top man sending to me, a fat package of Orkney smoked salmon.
Thank you Maniac.


A nice cup of tea now and long loving gazes at the pink fish x

Ice, what ice?

Just got back from driving Mr H. to the station. The roads were black knives, the sky deep with doom but then I saw this on the interweb :)
A little protection for our boys in the field, a combat codpiece.
Funny what raises a girl's spirits:)

My turnovers have turned out great! Puffed and full of fruit, glazed and scattered with browned almonds. Yes very pleased with them.

What I'm not pleased with is the return of bad weather, so tonight, in a tick in fact, I'll put the shovel in my car boot, in readiness, not for tonight's trip to the station, but for tomorrow's. Yuk yuk and double yuk!

I'm crossing all my extremities in the hope that I'm not stuck tomorrow night at the station, come 8ish, stretching like a sexpot over the windscreen trying with a hairbrush to break through the frost. grrrrrr!
So....
I've been reading up on what drivers should do when the weather turns Arctic...Blankets in the car along with a flask, chocolate and scraper (not a hairbrush dear) Got all those, so that's good. When I leave the car at the station tomorrow I'm going to cover the windscreen with a bin liner.
The bin liners were a present from a male member.

Coking tonight: Spaghetti with tuna cream sauce, garlic bread and sweetcorn. Pud...Ice cream:)

Now shovel time:(

While the apples braise...

After posting the pics yesterday I finally got into the festive spirit. Must have been the reds and golds and greens. Nothing affects my mood more than a blast of vibrant life-giving colour. And reds and golds and green do that better than most.
Seeing a bright yellow lemon sitting in royal blue bowl or an olive green leaf hanging by its stem makes magic out of everyday humdrum.
Red is good too. My blanket in the picture is deep wine red one side and blood red the other. Both have their place. The wine for night, the blood for day.

This morning I'm making Apple Turnovers. Wanted to make Danish Pastries but ran out of yeast. So homely Turnovers it is. These flaky mouthwatering temptresses are not for me of course, they will be wrapped in foil and taken to London tomorrow. I'll have a digestive!

Whilst the apples sugar and sultanas bubbled I found a very interesting and crazy recipe. For mini fruit cakes cooked in a small sized baked bean tin. 'The ideal present for a small eater or one who lives on their own' said the recipe bumpf.
I do love my books! So entertaining and informative and such a good friend to have on a Thursday.

But now I must return to the kitchen of love on account of needing to roll buttery golden flaky pastry into saucer shapes and then fill them with green apples, tawny sultanas and mink coloured muscovado sugar.
Lovely:)

Some pics taken Tuesday night

Don't forget you can click on the pic and zoom in...See my Christmas knick knacks in glorious heavenly detail

I have a lemon glow...

Found this pic on the interweb hope it doesn't mean anything rude.

Lemon Protection Solutions.cat.uk

Under the orange lies lemons

Cat can't stand lemons

Lemon Daisy cake

These sweet things like lemons

Hot Cross Buns laced with lemon peel. What would Jesus say?

I'm baking a lemon meringue pie because I love lemons.
I feel they are the most misunderstood of all citrus fruits, oranges on the other hand, are loved by all. Even grapefruits have their followers, me being one, but the poor poor lemon is often just sliced by an unkempt barman for an icy g & t:( Probably for an old dear.

Things I do with lemons:
Pies. Meringues mostly. Current one is looking fabulous, a thick mouse like lemon filling laying on a crisp buttery pastry base and topped with marshmallowy meringue. Good either warm or cold. Served either with a pastry fork or with a spoon to scoop up the cream...

Cakes. Drizzle, fruit cakes, fairies, Victoria sponges, biscuits (lemon thins being a favourite) and exotica of all kinds.

Puddings. Juice flavours a simple pud, rind added too, and a steamed pudding with lemon curd on the bottom makes angels lose the plot.

Tea. Hot with juice of half a lemon. Result? A feeling of purity and upbeatness unlike tea with milk and sugar which imparts feelings of comfy sluggishness. And Noel Coward. And Mrs Mopp. And me!

Elbows. Two halves stabbed onto two elbows brings about a cool whiteness and questions about personal hygiene.

Yes I love lemons BUT........................................................................
Do not like Sherbert Lemons. Grrrr.
This boiled sweet of hell once had me choking in a post office queue on account of one of the blighters falling involuntarily down my throat tube. Since then I will not have them in the house. While I'm on the subject of killer sweets I robustly condemn seaside rock, cough candy and Everton mints. These sweets have no place in my pocket.
But there is one hard sweet thing I like...and that is................. the Sugared Almond. I'd do almost anything for a paper bagful:)

Now I must check the lemon pie and marinate two chicken legs in....soy, sugar, pepper, oil and Lemon juice.

Now I must fly>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The newest additions to my grotto are settling in nicely.
Father Christmas #1 is lighting up the bay window and Daddy Christmas #2 is hanging out in the fireplace.
The cool small Father dressed in silver with a very long beard sits alongside Old Sid, the gangly Father with loose unstuffed legs. Sid's a great guy having been of good service for a number of years. Limp but still pleases. Hmmm.

So on my mantelpiece and surrounding it...a stodge of Dadda Christmases. And although my descriptive prowess is second to none, I feel a pic would be the icing on the cake.
Talking of cakes....I've decided that Christmas can never be Christmas without a fruit cake so will make one for the olde London scrooges and one for George. Can't go into too much detail about George, but suffice to say he oils my heart.

So what's cooking today Glo?
Lentil Bolognaise with peppers carrots and a load of green pesto. Yum Yum.
Spaghetti
Poppy seed soda bread
Shredded Maasdam cheese

For my one remaining sweet tooth, tinned mango slices with crushed biscuits and creme fraiche.

Now I must fly>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Girl in a Poncho

I was the only lady in Hockley sporting a poncho and as I stalked my way through them hard streets I felt a little wild.
So wild in fact that I bought:

A 24 inch Swinging Father Christmas with a soft rope attached to his shoulders. What I'll do with the old man I just don't know. Probably play with him.

A Festive baking book, will enjoy flicking through it's gold and red edged pages being told how to make Christmas treats. Like I don't know. But it's a recipe book and a very feel-good one too. (10p)

A 6 inch Father Christmas bearing stoically a long long silver beard. He must have had a turn because he's ditched the red coat in favour of an ice white ensemble. Whatever. For the next couple of weeks he'll hang out with the other Fathers on my mantelpiece.

A tawny brown shoulder bag originally from BHS, a snip at a quid. Will sling it over my body. Hands free is what I now like. Age? Could be.

And for Mr H. a pair of dark brown Clarks shoes in excellent condition. Have a horrible feeling they're going to be too big. His plates of meat are large but these fabulously well made shoes look a little like boats....

A 17 inch electric Father Christmas. The lady said she shouldn't sell it really and doesn't know how it got in the box but I could have it if I put a few pence in the collection box. So that's what I did. As soon as I got home I plugged the old fella in and his chubby bod lit up making this little bod smile:) Will hang him in the window.

3 Fridge magnets in various levels of gooeyness.

Other Notable News>>>>>>>

My Dehumidifier has stopped working. Blast it. Only had the beast a year at most. Now dusty ducks float on the rivers of water upon my windowsills. It's a bloofy hard life you know. Yes, bloofy.
I'm starved. Will stoke the old boiler with a couple of fried eggs. What I really want is pizza:)
Thanks to Digger for making me laugh this morning. Bless your bubbletum hun.

Matt won but didn't hog the proceedings in a big-headed sort of way and Becca smiled elegantly being charming in defeat.
A satisfying end...

Nightie night x

Last night's X Factor was predictable and a little boring. Until Robbie came on and stole the show.
His avuncular lift of little Nial of One Direction made my day. What temperamental sweeties they both are!

So after seeing Rob I watched Cher get her marching orders then quickly switched over to BBC4 to watch the brilliant Wallander. Cold and dirty with big wide streaks of miserableness running through. I liked that. Kind of matched my mood.
Bed after and thank heavens sleep came quickly.

Awoken this morning by a pounding puss, he's in love with my purple jumper and spends a few minutes each day/night hammering it with his size 2's. I love my cat......

Was in no rush to greet the day so stayed put trying to put things in perspective. I failed. So after brushing my teeth, had 2 slices of jam toast.
Grating insecurities/nightmares and general hell filled my head so thought it'd do me good to make a stew.
So I made the stew whilst watching again Gladiator. What a life saving gift the dvd is.
Tea flowed.

Spoke to mum about her foot, spoke to Mr Horsehound about paranoia and fed the birds in my slippers.
Then it was time for snooker. Looked at naughty boy John Higgins and thought 'he's got some front'.....

The stew was smashing, being a small meat eater I bagged the root veg, swede, carrot and potato leaving the beef for Mr H. but being in need of a severe amount of comfort I pigged out on three delicious dumplings.
There was room for creamy rice pud afterwards.

Then.
Wim Wenders 'Wings of Desire'. Bruno Ganz ,the man who played Hitler in Downfall, gives a convincing performance playing an Angel. Just as I do.


I will watch the final final of the X Factor, hoping, with fingers crossed, for a Matt Cardle win, if however the Essex man doesn't bag the slightly tarnished crown, I hope the teeny weeny lads do.
I love boys.

I am Glorious Irisirus Horsehoundus
Daughter to a derelict old pair
Wife to an honourable workaholic
and I will have my cake and eat it
in this kitchen and yours.

I LOVE Maximus so much so that I've had him spread over my small domestic screen alllllll afternoon. And what a masculine distraction he is.
Love the part where he kills the tiger, giggle ridiculously when he recreates with the help of a few other sorts, the battle of Carthage...And gasp with respect when finally he faces Caesar. What a spectacle!

But there's a gory flip side to this bloody pleasure....I get ALL BEHIND!!!
Barely a helmet was polished or a cat fed.
But my God he was worth it....

Have become fixated on fruit cakes.
Especially easy fruit cakes. And there's a corker I make every year round about this time (I wonder why). It's a real juicy fruity cake which may be iced if one so wishes or left browned and bare.
After doing a shop tomorrow I'll rustle one up. For the old dears of course, not for me;)
The thought of a warm kitchen filled with the aroma of spices sends me bonkers! Nothing beats cooking for people you adore. Methinks a little something extra goes in the pot...

Just fed the birds and was it my natural born optimism or just post pie fantasy that made me think the temps were up a tad. Could be just freezing instead of minus 1. Every little helps:)

Got a slave amount of domestic stuff to wade through so I'd better get on...But first a cuppa and limp garibaldi.


Now I fly>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Here I am after 6 hours kip, baggy eyed and droopy tailed but ready for anything....



Oh Mr H was waiting at the station 11:15pm on account of me having misplaced the shovel after an earlier expedition...laugh?
Man has no greater love than for a wife with no shovel.

More later I expect

Waffle Myself Awake

Even a programme about plastic surgery isn't keeping me awake so onto the 'puter I come!
Have to keep fresh and alert on account of upcoming journey to station to pick up Mr H.
I am not tierd.............

But I soldier on..
Everything wil be ok providing his trainy wainy isn't held up by a) overhead power probs, b) snow c) Highway men.

Now I'm just getting silly
Happens a lot especially when I've had a bit of a day.
All I want is romance/wealth/a man with the sexual energy of a prisoner/tender loving arms/gaffer tape and sweets.
All I need is food. Hot preferably. Lots please.
But suffer I must, as all poor love starved artists must.
Does the heart good though to be fired up, raring to go, chomping at the bits. Rubbish. What does the heart good is warm company and crisps.

Should be leaving ina about 45 mins, which gives me time to. 1) glue my lids to my brows. 2) fantasize about being taken away, but not by train. 3) check my chilblains.
What time is it now? By my expensive watch (present long time ago) it's nearly half ten:(
Usually I'm in nod off land by now, eyes shielded from all forms of light by dark blue mask, ears blocked with grubby foam bullits and neck slathered in cooking oil. Oh for a night like that........Doopy doopy doopy doo.
My jaw aches.

I know many people infact most people like to stay up late on account of being 1) interesting 2) having something to do 3) being a grown up. But I've always preferred to get my pleasure early under the duvet by a) having a decent cup of tea. b) watching half a film c) arguing.

Had a raspberry ruffle watching Corrie. THIS is how bad life can sometimes be.
Was hurt beyond measure when finding out that Danii Minogue has spent a fortune on plastic surgery.

I cannot take another shock like that.

I'd better go now, have to find the shovel.
:(

Train of Death

Mum and dad were quiet but I made up for it:)
Told them the joke about the plum.

Came home early on a still stuffed- to- the- ceiling train and as the carriage jiggled me what nots I looked into an awesome sky. Greyed with thick wedges of blue but made majestic by wide ribbons of electric red.
I went poetical.
And if it hadn't been for my lack of paper I'd have noted in simple detail how beautiful the coloured sky was. But I read the Evening News instead.

Arriving at the home station I listened to my tum rumba, knowing not much was sitting in me pantry. Nothing worse is there then being peckish and on offer only a handful of cream crackers.

Home.
Tea and a fairy cake then the making of a pie for a chum.
As I mixed his meat and veg I wondered what raw beef tastes like...

On my own tonight so with the help of a crumbled cream cracker I'll set sail for Coronation Street. Or what's left of it!

Blasted good special FX last night, the way that locomotive dipped into the cobbles, nigh on made me wish I was there.
Ken Barlow is looking good for 79!
Feisty Rita was drunk I think. And a good thing too...Seeing as she got mashed by the 18:45.
And who is Pete? Dark hair and liquid sex eyes. Me in lust again.
Deidre Barlow is the same age as me I'm sure, and like Deidre I haven't succumbed to itchy contact lens either. Eh up chucky four eyes.
Er Kevin Webster used to be young now he has more lines on his face than Wetherfield railways. And he give a girl a babby. And I though he was such a nice gentleman. Eeee by heck as like, I never trust trust a man who oils his instruments manually.
At 20:30 tonight we find out who's heading to Barmcake heaven and who'll still be supping a right good pint tat'Rovers.

ENORMOUS SOUTHERN APOLOGIES TO ALL MANCS....

Oh my goodness who put all these words here?
Help.................................

Open

When you slam your door
you keep out what you want in
the face of the person you love

And when you drown yourself in sub suburban duty
you silently suffocate
till all but lifeless is left
a man 'o war is what you once were
but peace broke out
and killed you

Now
An unrushed touch and a friendship ring
in a small half lit room
is all you want tonight and forever

When you sheer the grass and fix the gas
you inhabit a steady house
and
like a dream come true
the face of the person
and the spark she riddled you with
lights up the endless bore

When you slam the door
to keep out what you want
you snap two hearts in four

Lightning Post>>>>>>>>>>>>

Cooking with Crowe as he Gladiators his way to Rome XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Beef pie for London's crotchety>>>>
Chocolate cake for the above>>>>
Choccy jammy cupcake selection for generous old Irish dear in London charity shop>>>>>>Go on go on go on>>>>>>>>

Major brain malfunction this morning>>>>>Poncho
Sexed- up brain all functioning well>>>>>>>>>>deep deep red leather skirt>>>>>>

Now dash I must>>>>

I love you all.......

Boys, Legs, Becca and Cuddles

And then there were four.

One boy band, one tiny gal, one sleepy eyed soulster and one Essex man.

Next week's winner?

Can only be one, and that's Matt Cardle.
But this is The X Factor....

Have to say I haven't been wildly happy with this year's contenders, but watched it nevertheless, because Saturday nights wouldn't be half as much fun if I didn't feel the need to jump the 'puter right after the credits to yak about pretty boys and numpties like Wagner:)

All goes to make the stupid great tapestry of life a little more sumptuous.

For me......I love it!

Utter nonsense...Oh ok!

Made a quick skid to garden centre for Calor gas! No I don't want a mince pie thank you madam>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Last night's X Factor proved just how much it needed Wagner. So lacking in oooomph, so dull, in fact almost unwatchable.
Someone should DO something. Like turn off.
One Direction are just cute...what else can I say?
Matt worried me, has he lost his mojo?
Rebecca moved once.
Cher moved too much.
Mary Bryne yells. Love songs should make us weep for our own love lives. She made me wish Love had never been invented.

Found myself entertaining all by doing my Russell Crowe voice. And so blatheringly annoyed am I that I chose a Motown cd instead of Master and Commander dvd. It was offered and like a frilly twit I replied no sir! Oh God:(
Am so in love with Crowe that I fantasize about his voice....a bag of gravel in a silken sack.

After the Y Factor we started to watch 'Hush'....................But as I like to conserve my energy (!) I went to bed just as the girl ended her relationship with poster boy. Sleep cometh quick thereafter>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Forgot to defrost bird so food will be of a er.....put-together kind of style.

21st December. Mid winter and our days get longer and our light gets brighter so......I will pose outside in a swimsuit>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


Now I must fly>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Yellow For Danger!

Here I am before and after a days shoppying!

The 'new' bag is a clear indication of my mental state...Make of that what you will!

Still on the canary front...I bought for £6, a 16 piece custard yellow dinner set. This gorgeous collection of Tam ware was on a shelf in the Y.M.C.A. shop the man who served me gave me a plastic crate in which to lug it home. Bless him.

Wandered around Poundland and the 99p shop getting all kinds of gems...

Two tins of mangos 99p. Will add to cream and make some iced cream.
Two lemon coloured storage jars. So 1970's. So pretty by the kettle.
Citrus scented cleaning gumpf.
A flapper style hairband complete with feather and diamonds. Will probably wear when I'm on the Port.
Shoelaces for Mr Horsehound.
24 Oxo cubes. Usually pay 99p for a dozen, but this was the 99p shop so..........
Coal Tar soap. Pump dispenser. So fits in with the amberification of the kitchen:)

Then to Golden Discs, a shop up an alley which only takes cash...
A new Motown c.d. from 1971. All soul favs including 'Remember Me' by Miss Ross. Bought the original L.P. when a schoolgirl and so have been feeling a little sick at heart when catching sight in the hall mirror of the now crinkly bottomed diva:( sweet sexy music though, which will accompany me on many a cooking afternoon:)

Charity shop next where I bought this mental handbag and a gold glittery evening purse which will be used for cosmetics of which there are many:)

I had a wonderfully simple day, didn't spend much, had a few laughs and slushed around outside the post office feeding Sarfend pigeons:)

Cooking tonight:
Sweet and Sour Pork
Fried rice
Pancake rolls

For pud:
Cadbury's Milk Chocolate with fruit and nut x

Now I must fly...............x

Just got in..

After...

Falling over on the train...

Mum saying I looked tired...

Dad saying my hair was a mess...

And taking help from two young boys who extricated me and the car from the snow...

Dontcha just love angelic lads and coffin dodgers:)

Ice Queen...

Heading off to London packed out with...one beef pie, four crusty rolls and a dozen choco hazelnut muffins!

I will be suitably dressed...
wearing my luxurious fur coat;) This is a dreamy creamy ice white winter coat lined with marshmallow soft fur, its collar rides high, so will kiss my cherry cheeks pink.

Now I must fly..............................X

Most Invigorating

No I didn't venture outside instead I laid some insulating fur in the loft:) And very pleasant it was too...
Looked like a twat in skirt and hat but so determined was I to keep the cold out of the kitchen and bedroom, that I HAD to have a go.

The roll of insulation was fat, furry and brown and rather kind of sweet so sweet in fact that I wondered what else I could use it for...Make a hat? Make a bed for the cat? Or even make birdie nests?

I soldiered on only hitting my head once, picked up two splinters though by the water tank and joyously discovered two large handbags in a box:)

Squatting was a bit of a problem but my legs held together well considering how long I was up there. It isn't done expertly of course, how could it be, but at least it affords a little protection from Mr Frost.
Cobwebs hung like faded ghostly necklaces, no spiders I'm pleased to say, but I did speak to the wasp's nest hanging like a gnarled and grizzly wart....just in case any were still alive.

I won't allow people to view the loft. However much they pinch my chilblaines. The fur is down and down it will stay:)

Now sweet coffee and a jaffa cake.

Mr Shackleton. Quite mad. Insanely brave.

Mrs Shakleton I'm not.

~Ok that's enough snow for now...The north copped it now we southern softies are staring in disbelief;) Watched some news and saw sledges of a northern make being dragged by robust sorts but I dare say if snow continues down here in the balmy tropics, tv pics will show laughing herberts on Wimbledon common chucking frozen missiles at each other. Aaaaah!

So predictable.

What would make chilling viewing would be old dears in old hats blowing their fingers to prevent death.
But we don't want to see real life, we want to see glowing teeth and hear raucous laughter as yet another arse dents the snow.

I wouldn't mind so much if I had Shakleton's heart, but that's buried on the island of South Georgia with the rest of him. Ernest wouldn't cry over chilblained toes, they'd be snapped off and fried before you could say ouch:)

Talking of my hero....

Just did an expedition to the bird feeders and what thanks did I get...Just a couple of manky pigeons stuck to the aerial.
But oh their brave hearts. Respect.

My large bird table had toppled over but after a quick kick and scrape it was erect again. Iced over water butt and frozen bird bath all lending silence to the blitzed scene. After refilling the bird feeders I stood for a sec looking at the baby apple tree, yes of course I felt sorry for it, out there, it's juvenile roots buried and its long spindly arms reaching skywards and fencewards, nothing I can do for it all I hope is that the bark I laid down recently helps in some way. Everything to me has feelings.


~As I sip more coffee (run out of tea and toes too purple to press gas pedal to shop) I'm deliberating over sausages...
Whether 'tis wiser to wait for a bake or lean over the gas ring shoving them about a bit in the pan.
Hmm.
Bake I think.

~Annywaaay...I'll mix up some barbequed beans and smash some mash so a real winter warmer for our first snow fun day:(
God I hate this weather.
Makes me long for pine trees and sand in my belly button.

"I've been working at a traveling job for going on two years now. Nothing international yet, but I've been to the four corners of the US and everywhere in between. I fell wild, crazy in love and didn't hardly write the whole time; my love took everything from me, part and parcel, and ran off with another man. I'm sure it's good fodder but I don't know what to do with it. Now I move from city to city carrying only a suitcase and an empty heart. I'm essentially lost. No need to add this to your comments; I just wanted to keep in touch. If the mood strikes you, drop me a note sometime. "

This was sent to me by an old chum, he's a writer you know...No need to add this to my comments? Writing doesn't get any better than when we bleed.

Oh Just Today....

The live web chat went better than I expected.
There were ten of us answering questions and exchanging, often funny views, about the BBC's weather website.
I, of course, had a field day.

It went something along the lines of "Click on picture A, do you think it's clear and concise?" So we all put our two pennorth in, it's funny how, like at a school disco, everyone was well mannered and a little hesitant at first, but once the first person got rolling, the others followed.
Jokes flew regarding the vagaries of the British weather and tittle tattle rattled regarding wind chill and picture galleries. So unwanted by all and sundry.
We all agreed that weather symbols were easy on the eye but no-one agreed with me on my tinkling music for sudden snowfall:)

It was a good experience and one I'd like to enjoy again.

Cooking tonight:
Aubergine and Lentil Sauce
Spaghetti
Double Gloucester cheese.
Poppy seed soda rolls

Very much doubt Mr H. will be in the mood for pud, probably be home too late for that, due to Crowe and his minions.
But tomorrow is another cold day and I'll be off somewhere, no doubt ducking and diving for my pleasure:)

Mustn't forget to record Panorama tonight, it's about the alleged dodgy dealings surrounding FIFA officials. These true and upright guys have the say in whether or not England will host the 2018 World Cup. Should be worth a watch.

I've got chilblains:(
Need to invest in thicker socks.

And on that soppy note I must fly..........

"The capital is locked down this morning across the board"
Bob Crowe.

It's amazing what turns some people on.

Xtraordinary Factor.

Cher. So predictable. Legs and ribbons. I must be getting old.
Katie. Gorgeous, talented, ballsy, little madam, junior luvvie, eyes to die for, an artist.
Wagner. Hot in a suit. Big tum not a problem. Smile hiding hurt?
One Direction. Goo.
Mary. No soul. And no soul earns her nil points from me. Songsters should spit pain and/or love. Aren't they the same?
Rebecca. Incredible recording voice. But no stage presence.
Matt. Made me cry.

Beef casserole today.
Chunks of beef braised very slowly in a herb enriched stock, with carrot, swede, onion, potato and leek. Then, when it's all but done..... dropped on top....dumplings.
To end....A Queen of Puddings, a soft sweet custard smothered in raspberry jam then crowned with meringue...

Now I must fly........................

Didn't want to leave the sheets this morning. Absolutely zonked from all the hoo ha of yesterday. But the old lovely was cooking dad an omelette when I phoned this morning so.........

A bit of silly news...On Monday I'm taking part in a BBC net chat with 11 other people, should be a hoot, providing the moderator has a sense of humour;)

We'll be asked questions about the BBC's weather site.....
"More animation I think Sweetie".

I'm getting paid for my presence and will endeavour to uphold the BBC vision to inform, educate and entertain!

London....No Love You No More

Mum is home.
Dad is relieved.
I am shattered!

Lots of ridiculously expensive shopping.
Cleaning what was only noticeable....
Washing a few items in the sink
Imparting wisdom to a I-choose-to-be-deaf- dad,
Long worded phone 'chats' with nursie who couldn't understand why mum 'ran away' from the ward.
Freezing walks to and from hospital.
My dissing of a tenner for taxi fare causing a minor pointless argument....
If I choose to walk, let me get on with it.
A relieved, but spoilt- beyond- imagination dad having a hissy fit because of the stress.
A quiet resigned bandaged mum on the edge of the sofa
and a headache for me...

I love Essex;)................

Monty miaowed when the door opened and I wanted to eat him.

Downed an Orange and Passion Fruit J20 in one unladylike gulp:(

I am now going to bed...it's been one of those days...Tired Smiles
and much wanted relief...
come at last.

Come on...up you get!

Just before I go outside to get the birds up, must just tell you all that dad said, in his late night call, there's a good chance mum might get out today...
With, of course, half of London's antibiotic supply...

Will be there later...

Christmas Thoughts Invade......As the cottage pie bubbles...

Salmon puffs. Utterly moreish. Only time I make choux pastry. Only time I open a tin of salmon

Chocolate eclairs. Only other time I make choux pastry:) Only time I delve interiors. Damp innards are intolerable.

To tree or not to tree. Hmm. Low key maybe. Low key means no tree. Or a wee tree. Hmm. Major soul searching occurring over tree erection. Could be some time before a peaceful solution ends the dispute between love of tradition and hatred of cat hurled baubles.

Fruit cake. No. Dry and falling to bits reminds me of my feet.
Yule Log. Oh yes. Sweet, dark and impregnated with chestnutty cream. A grown girls sex toy. Dippy dippy, licky licky, piggy piggy...very problemy problemy the very next day.

Parsnips. The desireable guys of the vegetable world. Tall, sweet and a little lined.

Drink. No drink. The devil's buttermilk would see me offering myself as gift to be unwrapped. Cor!
Christian festival. So please no buttermilk:)

Just a quickie before a much needed coffee

Sainsbury's done.

Two cottage pies almost done and an apple tree planted, hopefully in the right way. The stake supporting the young tree is half the handle of a broken broom.

Ta ta!

Coldy Woldy Up The Boldy!

Aye!

It's a chilly willy.

But off to Sainsbury's to get bits and bobs for mama. Dad has already issued orders about what NOT to get.
Yeah yeah yeah yadder yaddder yadder... like I'm listening....Shut up loser.

On a less threatening note...I'm on the look out for some sparkly hair slides:)

£4 for two small drinks

and a nasty shock from the doc.
mum has Osteomyelitis. So said the gentle doc...she spoke quietly and imparted a oad of information about bones and stuff then smiled and went on her way.
Bugger this we all said....
She therefore won't be heading home any time soon.
And as for the dinners, well according to dad last night's delight was half a baked potato.
Mum of course sweetly shoved it to one side.

Today we took her a salmon and watercress sandwich, two oranges and for her heads sake, two bags of blooming crisps. I will, when I go on Friday be packed out with good stuff.... Homemade rolls filled with salmon and ham, small apples, cake and Ginger Beer:)

After a little huffing and lot of puffing dad traipsed down to the hospital shop where he paid £4 for two small bottles of 7 Up and Diet Coke. The cashier didn't understand when dad asked about old fashioned lemonade. You know the yellow stuff with bits of lemon flesh laying at the bottom..
She will. on Friday have a litre of that too.

God. This is bloody awful and it's not only dad I feel for, he's so lost without his better half, but feel to my bones for mum whose sitting there like a bedraggled dolly.

When one of the orderlies came round she asked mum why she hadn't ordered her 'dinner'. Apparently mum was so sickened by the potato last night she couldn't face another vegetable shock...But after a little persuasion from me, she ordered chicken and mash. And ice cream.

So with a little luck she'll eat her chicken and a little later on enjoy the luxury of a M&S Sandwich:)

So we chatted and laughed and went silent and then chetted again, then I had to get going, so after a couple of firm handshakes, we don't do goeey goeey.... I headed out...but not before collaring the lovely lady doc....
"What's up Doc" I said. "I'm Angela, the daughter".

The scan has shown that the infection has spread from the tissue to the bone.
"And?"
We'll need to sort out another antibiotic routine. And take it from there...
"Bottom line?"
I can't even type it.

But it won't come to that, for 73 she's a vibrant old bean who, the doctor said, is a little impatient...Oh really!...

Me just got home and will be heading out again soon to pick up a man....after I've downed my now cold coffee! Yuk!

Mum comes first...

8:30 pm Spoke to dad on phone. Mum went down for a scan mid morning Returned from scan to find her 'dinner' cold on the table. She was tired and hungry so dad went outside into Praed st. to get a ham roll...
As he told me this I felt sick.
NHS under pressure...but this beggars belief. Still like everyone keeps saying, she is in the 'best' place.

Me, no dinner. Obviously.

Time now 10:36. Waiting for Mr H. to get home. Better hurry up, his chips are almost burnt. And he has an early start in the morning.

I am wondering whether or not to go to London tomorrow, could take some food I suppose, Friday was supposed to be my London day but I'm in a bit of a pickle now.

Welcome

~My Apple tree has arrived so I've put it in a bucket of water until I can plant it.

The instruction sheet advises planting as soon as possible but if not, place it in a garage. No apple tree of mine is going in my garage, it's dark and drippy in there. No place for a thing of beauty.

At nearly four feet tall it's a splendid looking thing, tall with tender young finger-like branches spreading out like a baby's hands, in search of something to cling to.
I've already held it to my breast welcoming it to its new home, and so as soon as I can I'll grab a shovel, a stick and a pair of ladies tights and settle it into the earth.

No food tonight on account of Mr H working late. But earlier I yummied over two hummus spread batons and half a pint of Dr Oekter's Passion Fruit and Mango yogurt, Drooling....
Might indulge in some jammy toast just before 8.

~Bought mum a second-hand coat this morning, soft grey wool with furry collar, might shave off some of the fur because she's not really a furry kind of gal. The coat is in excellent condition and is knee length too, so.... so far so good. Will take it to her some time this week, hopefully she'll try it on in the comfort of her own front room:)

Now tea and piece of Mrs Gordon's Boil and Bake Fruit cake.
This is made in a saucepan so very little washing up:)

Ta ta....!

It's no good I have to tell someone......

I've only gone and blagged my way into getting a job interview:)

Whether Mr Claydon thinks I'm suitable for this exhilarating position is out of my control. I can but try:)

He's agreed to see me on Wednesday.

It's marvellous having the cheek of the devil...

Er...............

With a pint of tea I watched the X Factor.......... it was Beatles Week.

Was happily surprised by little soul man Paije. Like him when he doesn't lark about in gross pink coats. Stick to black dear.

I was in singing heaven with the adorable Katie Wassell. New barnet...genius. She looked gorgeous. And to add icing to the sweet thing she sang perfectly.

Wagner was insincerely humble when apologising to Common Cole. He roughed up Lennon and McCartney but is forgiven by me at least on account of his foreign entertainment value.

One Direction had me wishing I was 12 again. They are the next massive boy band waiting to happen. All pretty boys with hairs growing everywhere:)

Searching for the right notes was lovely Rebecca Ferguson. I like this girl but this week's song choice by Common Cole was way too big for her. Could prove costly.

Nothing wrong with the swing I shouted at Cowell as he dissed Cher's high rise performance. I thought it was one of her best. Much prefer it when she isn't so made up, her voice is all the gear she needs. Sweet.

Shirley Bassey she ain't. The Dublin till girl Mary Bryne is not, repeat not a diva. She may have diva boobies, diva sparkles and diva XL size but being in possession of those does not make one a Diva. 'Something' is one of my fav Beatles songs and Bassey sang it perfectly. Bryne mouthed it large but she left me aching for a pint.

Matt Cuddles in a vest. Oh please.... Is there anything the Essex painter can't do?

I got an earlier train to London so arrived with plenty of time to go to Waitrose, cook puddings and talk. And boy did we talk. That's dad and me.
Dad wheezed as the love flowed and said how lost he feels without her...you know, he misses how she waits on him, argues with him about vests, talks with him about everything and other inane things like that.

Later...
We held hands by the the kerbside and I used my other hand to grab a cab and so flat capped dad and beret headed me shot along the darkening streets to Thistlewayte ward in St Mary's.
How different the roads and people look when you're 'in the zone'...

Mum looked like a dolly.
A little white head protruding from the top of a sweet overly pink dressing gown and with pale hands resting on The Mirror.
Dad plopped into the comfy chair while I bagged the hard one.
"You're as tough as old boots Ang"
"You're as tough as old boots".

"Thanks Lil" I smiled "You're a soldier too" (Lil is a nickname which was born many decades ago.)

So I studied her without showing it while dad went mental with newspapers and tangerines.
I hate to say it but my tongue went into overdrive because I also talked almost non-stop. Most uncharacteristic. Then nursie came round to plug mum into the national grid so she could get her full hundred quids worth of meds. Being a closet comic I made a fanatstic joke about being a coke head:)

By now it was getting night time dark outside, so on with the lights and with that, more banter from me and dad mostly to do with age and how horrible it is when he gets out of puff just making the tea.
Mum of course has heard all this sorry stuff before, but me, I just said give me all your money daddyo and head out onto the black streets before the boogie man comes.
I could see this was becoming such a bore to him and he really needed to go home.

He left after kissing mum on the forehead and holding my hand! WHAT? Still I suppose fear and loneliness makes the gooey stuff come out. Felt good though feeling his hand again.
Before going he dropped me a tenner saying it was for a taxi to Queensway station...He he he thought the wicked daughter....

Mum's dinner came about 7, bloody inedible it looked too, two tiny pieces of beef with five painfully thin slices of potatoes! Not even WHOLE potatoes. The NHS, bless its heart, sure knows how to keep its customers slim. She shoved it around a bit, even mangaing to eat a little, but after a little blackmail she did at least eat the potatoes.

We chatted like best friends. mostly as usual about men and love and hard skin, then with a sad heart I said I had better get going.
One last order from me...Keep behaving yourself and you'll be on your way home...
I then slid my hands under the blanket and tickled her thighs.

After a sardine journey to Stratford I bagged a seat on the big train next to bloke asleep. Lovely.
Home at 9 to Monty and a fat mug of very sweet tea. Calories are so unimportant. Now.

Well that's about it, I could say more, but I won't. Much rather get on with making a fat brown beef casserole with giant booby dumplings.
:)

Omen 2 was bad.
Noodles though were good.
Been busying myself with the putting up the new curtains...Not sure about them, bit over the top for a kitchen and has had me searching for Autumnal coloured bric-a-brac:(
AND also the newly re-vamped sky blue dresser is looking a tad out of place, Oooops!
Anyone got a tin of brown paint coagulating around?:)

This drastic make-over of the kitchen is all my Mother's fault. Because she's in hospital I'm going barmy!
But....there isn't anything I can do for her NOW, but tomorrow I'll have a nosey around and see what's what.

I love her desperately you know.


Ok back to tonight's festivities, I'm feeling a bit on edge so a slow wind down with the laugh-a-minute movie 'Cabin Fever' might get me in the mood for diving beneath the blankets in my under garments:)

Goodnight All
X

Bowl of noodles and 'Omen 2.'

Then sleep under the red cover.