As mum snoozed and Mr H watched a programme on the beauty of mathematics I relaxed with The Hamlyn Book Of Tea Time Baking. And others of that ilk.

Socked feet resting against Monty's warm fat back, I fingered the pages of the old book in the hope of finding the perfect roll.

Poppy Seed Knots, Kentish Huffkins, Wholemeal Breakfast Baps and Cheese and Celery Bread...All sounding divine.

The Huffkins I've made before, a long time ago, also played around with poppy seeds and sesame seeds, and did at one time, decorate a large white loaf with millions of sunflower seeds. Crunchy and dangerous.

I'm pleased to say that I'm developing a deep and doughy love affair with bread at the moment, and am enjoying fantasies way above my station.

Imagining delectable mixes. Brown and white. Wheatmeal and rye, white with dried onion.

However daunting bread making is, I think everyone with the merest scintilla of skill should have a go at bread, the very staff of life. If the top over browns so what....it can still be scoffed.

I made a lot of Irish Soda Rolls today. They didn't over brown. They emerged in a variety of shades of brown, some nutmeggy others caramelly, a few just suntanned. None though were burnt. In my dreams I have a fan oven...

Made more than usual and made them thicker than usual, so thick that, when baked, they resembled high and mighty Towers.

A few sloped, a couple split at their midriffs, not enough to look bad, or get scolded over, but just enough to look thoroughly home made.

I think that's why I make so many soups.

So I can make so many rolls.

As Mr H. won't be in till 11 I'll treat Mother to a couple of episodes of "Without A Trace" Season 1, I very much doubt she'll get through the opening credits but if she does brutish thuggish yummy Anthony La Paglia should keep her pulse going. He will mine. Licky licky wriggle bum.

Made an Apple flan for tomorrow and not wishing to leave out mother I rustled up a couple of dinky sugar free pies just for her. She woofed them down whilst watching 'Enders. And what a load of tosh that has become.

There are more Moons in Albert Square than in all of heaven. Daft.

Okey Dokey, better dash. Mother is ringing her bell. And I'm not joking, the old darling probably needs her legs stretched.

Cheerio:)

....An early start for us.

Mother being a pain in the neck by saying she didn't want to go to docs.

I being a totally cheesed off daughter was having none of it.

"Get a flannel, comb your hair and then I'll help pull on your tights. We're GOING"

Doc was excellent. His Spanish tongue sometimes a wee bit difficult to understand, but with hand gesticulations, a laugh and a wink, we managed .

He wanted blood he said. Now. So off we went around the corner where Big Nurse looked for a plump vein:)

Mother's face churned, me, I didn't turn a hair:)

As I dropped mum into the car and a nasty wind licked my cheeks I wondered if there'd be anything in the charity shop...

There was.

A pink nightie, blue gloves and faux sheepskin jacket for mum. Oooooh said Marlene on the till looks lovely darling.

Mum giggled handing over £2:50. Winter jackets marked up at £6 actually but Marlene is a good old sort who probably thought mum needs a nice jacket seeing as she's thin with a zimmer.

Bless her.

For myself...A Burleigh make Willow Pattern teacup and saucer. A big cream blanket embellished with florals. And a dark red Bag! Loads of room for my whatnots and bobs. Oh and a Brighton Rock Pink checked overall. 10p in the dressing up box!!!I love it! Teeth white, hair fluffy and my hands holy white with self-raising flour. IT IS SO ME.

While I was perusing the bric-a-brac shelves I heard a commotion.

Looking over towards the window I saw a big built white headed man fiddling around under Mother's zimmer looking, he said, for loose change.

Mother apparently getting in a flap with her handbag and all her coins spilling out.

Yeah ok. I believe ya.

"Ooooh" said Ma as he dropped a fifty pence piece into her lap. "Thank you and mind your head on the radiator"

We all laughed including the new man-helper in the shop, red Mohican hair cut and enormous black and silver boots. Think Terminator.

Born again Christian so no worries.:(

Anyway I digress. Back to mum's new friend....It's at times like these that I KNOW she's going to be alright.

A smile being the surest sign you're relaxed and ready to party.

Takes effort you know.

Popped to get priscription and again the girlie mistook me for Mother, 74.

I smiled oldly snatching the drug bag.... man.

I'll be nuking some soop in a mo, will probably have a heavily buttered bap with it. Then it's movie time then it's mother related work then it's ...what else IS there?

As the day has worn away so have I.
Loved watching the tennis, really helped me relax
Made a good dinner. None left.
But now, with thoughts of Monday morning weighing heavy on my slight shoulders, I'm feeling a bit desperate!
I've had a tiff with a mate and it's made me sad. I've waved a sodding olive branch about, but so far no takers. So blow you.
Have to be up early to take mum to docs, and she isn't at her best in the morning and neither am I so Monday morning should be entertaining:(
So with my old handbag by my side and cherry red lipstick still on my lips, I'll toddle off to the bedroom, just in time to catch 'The Ghost' a good film, probably won't see the end credits but so what:)

Goodnight All.

Rafa v. Novak.
The best tennis match I've ever watched.
And I've been watching for 40 years. Dearie.

Unbelievable skill, strength, a little humour and the cherry on the cake...Novak's impersonation of The Incredible Hulk when he'd finally floored the Spaniard.
Run. Gasp. Yell. Then the Rip Off of the shirt. Horrible. Clean chested, with just the merest hint of sweat. A thump of his chest. Then a pound of the hoardings over which his family and coach sat. Spectacular sight. I mean, I've seen bangings before but not of this level.

Meanwhile Rafa sat soaked. I adore his temperament both on and off the court and could only imagine how zonked and disappointed he was at losing out again to the mighty Serb.

4 more big tournaments to come this year. American, French, Wimbledon and the Olympics. And if any of them are half as excellent as what I witnessed today then we're all in for a sweaty summer!

Only British food from now on.
I mean it.
Made a curry last night and had the most dreadful of nightmares.
In them I'd lost the cat.
I was hanging by my fingertips from a moss covered wall a million foot high.
People were hitting me with boulders.
My screams went unheard.
I was back in London in a terrible flat.
I was screaming.

Now whether or not that was due to an overdose of Patak's Tikka Masal Paste I just don't know. I mean, what else could cause such terror.

So when I escaped from the bed this morning I flung open the conservatory doors embracing the chill and vowed that from this day on only British food will served in the bungalow. Bungalow? Indian origin isn't it? Just have to move I spose:)

Anyway Sunday beckons and as Rafa plays Novak in the Australian Open Final I am in full working gear.... British white lace pinny and cup of tea.

Being cooked today.
A British Chicken.
Carrots.
Peas.
Roast potatoes.
Yorkshire pud.
And gravy.
Will have a spoonful of Quince jelly on the side.

For pudding...Apple and Blackberry Crumble and either double cream or custard.

Hope Rafa wins and hope mum sticks to her promise of venturing outside the front room to visit the conservatory. A humble yet important place. Especially for someone whose been lounge bound for two months.

See you later:)

Steak and Kidney Pud

Chocolate castles with chocolate and cinnamon sauce

The Best Syrup Pudding

Meatballs with tomato sauce and spaghetti

Soup

Eclairs with whipped cream and dark chocolate icing

Minced Beef Poy

A bursting Steak Pud.

Being around food makes me feel all warm and satisfied so today I'm making:

Leek soup
Irish Soda Rolls

Chicken tikka masala with potatoes and tomatoes.
garlic and coriander naan
rice

If I have the time I'll rustle up tomorrow's pudding which will probably be apple and blackberry crumble. I have some Greek yoghurt which would make a good accompaniment but knowing my lack of imagination a jug of custard will be the crumbles mate.
Greek yoghurt is a fav of mine and is an ingredient of my Apple Flan which will be knocked together in the week.
So first on the list is leek soup, due to having mother in the bungalow a lot of soup is being consumed, usually tinned which, for the price, isn't worth it. Only one worth nuking is Heinz Carrot and Coriander.
Canned soup doesn't do it any more.
Especially when you've tasted home made.

Talking of home made comfort... last night's Cauliflower cheese was so gorgeous Mr H. had 'thirds'. Made a smashingly simple cheese sauce using mature English Cheddar, English mustard and good grating of nutmeg. Absolutely creamy.
Poured it over steamed colli then topped it with blitzed oaty bread.
Served with fried back bacon and baked tomatoes.
Blissful.
No pud though on account of the lateness of the hour.
Blasted trains.

Now I must fly.......................:)

That dopey Murray lost again.
But what a thrilling match it was.
I was, for once, rooting for the Scot, not because I've fallen for him but because I wanted to see him  get knocked for six in Sunday's final. What a happy chick I'd have been.
A Sunday roast and tennis? My giddy aunt I'd have been in seventh heaven. But it wasn't to be, so a jolly good roast is all I'll get.
Boo hiss. Foul. Fault. Game over.

Nursie came this morning to tend to Mother's bits, all ok. And the hospital phoned asking questions about mum's non-attendance, I had a bit of a grilling I don't mind telling you. But all was well in the end.

After the tennis finished I popped to the charity shop and chatted with the lady and boy and came away with two tops, two rugs and four white tea plates.
My God I love that shop.

Lovely weather today.
Sun great.
Sky faultless.

Have a million things to do now so I will say cheerybye.
By the way, I'm feeling very supple managed to do 32 tummy scrunchies by the back door.

straw upon straw upon straw

Hope there aren't too many more because my back can't take any more!

But after a cruel gruelling day yesterday I got up with teeth grinding determination.

Mother had a bad night last night so her hospital appointment has been cancelled, "sorry etc etc" I said into the answerphone imagining the tuts at the other end. I didn't go into too much graphic detail just saying enough to make them squirm. I'm sure the doc will understand.
Mother's body has no respect for appointments...

On a lighter note Andy Murray v. Djokovic is on BBC2 now. Australian Open Tennis semi-final. Winner goes onto meet Nadal in the final.
I like Djokovic but it would do me the the world of good to watch Rafa beat up Murray...
Thank God it's on anyway.
And the sun is out and I'm wearing my pearl necklace, tawny brown hugger hugger skirt and pink sweater so at least I'm looking all-girl!

Must sign off now, have a game to watch and a mouth to feed.

Blow You

I said and set about plating up a positively luscious tea time treat for Mother whilst the Africa Cup of Nations played out on ITV 4. The Good Lord moving in mysterious ways...

It's funny you know how a bit of something familiar comforts, nay, saves a drooping spirit. A press on the remote and my ears and eyes were treated to colour and noise that only a footie match brings. Bless you mad Africans.

Talking of food and souls I can't possible cook tonight so it's a quick oven-job for Mr H. Probably something with chips. He'll understand, he's very good that way.

Before I go to bed I must not forget to make yet another sugar free jelly, mum getting addicted. Still if they make her feel good then wibble wobble away!
What else, oh yes I've had an awful head today, started at the temple (right) and slowly cruised around till it got settled and held my head in a vice like grip. Would have given and taken anything to shift it, but it's eased up a little, no doubt rivers of sugarless tea helping. Tea, the a universal panacea.
What I really wanted though was a man.

Bought some excellent breaded ham.

Well round the garden I went stopping dead to watch the fattest robin I've ever seen, peck at the feeder. His body was almost circular, no ins and outs, just globe like. Really fat and beautiful. Anyway as I stood by the water butt eyeing up the bird my mind split... eventually ending up in a darker place. Bugger. Why is it, that when caught up in a blissful moment, my sleeping demons decide to wake.
Gotcha they said. True, they had me, but not before I'd drunk in the sensation of feeling damp earth under foot and eyeing a lovely creature enjoying himself.

You can tell it's a bad day in the bungalow, but even as I type, seconds become minutes and this wicked daymare will end.

Pencilled in my kitchen diary is cauliflower cheese with additions, bacon probably. Might crisp up some extra for Rotund Rob:)

The sun has finally made his entrance.
And what a star he is.
Certainly made my heart lose its rhythm.
So
I'll saunter outside in a mo, going nowhere in particular.

:)

Barmy

An old Banana Longboat...Please note the queer looking spoon...

Instead of the aforementioned canned peaches for tonight's pud I've concocted something...

Seeing a couple of limp bananas in the fruit dish made me think....

Cut 2 trifle sponges in half. Spread meanly with Ginger Conserve, too much would be too much, only want a hit of heat not my tongue on fire...so sponges spread I then sliced thickly the bananas, always feel bananas need to be cut chunkily or they lose their ooompa.
Anyway that done I made half a pint of ordinary Bird's custard and whilst it simmered I dropped in 4 squares odf Cadbury's Fruit and Nut. LOL!
It melted quickly turning the custard from anorak yellow to luscious mink brown. Oh goody I thought this is fun...
By now the fruit was sulking so I gently enlivened them with a deep hot coating of Cadcus. And with a few raisins and bits o' nut floating around I left the kitchen feeling very pleased.
I often feel joyous when faffing about with bananas, (see above pic) Made yonks ago. Banana with fruit cocktail, cream and strawberry syrup. Took me back to younger days when all I ever wanted at Wimpy was this thrilling American style treat.



All this hoo ha over bananas has been brought about by Masterchef judge, Gregg Wallace... He a pudding lover like me! And.............

Am enjoying the new series but last night's programme left me glum. I so wanted Matthew to go through, but after totally messing up his Black Forest pud he was thrown out. I liked him and would have been happy seeing what he could have done in further rounds, and not because he was handsome or anything like that but because he cried.

Miss England Does Indonesian..ish

Not quite Nasi Goreng for tonight.
Pukka Goreng has prawns and stuff.
Mine is a Mary Berry recipe with tweaks.

Nasi has many fans including President Obama.
It is Indonesian and fun.
It is simply fried rice with veg and or meat. Take your pick.

Some folk plonk fried eggs on top, I plump for a two egg omelet.
Also jewelling my top is finely chopped toms. Red is a great pick-me-up not only in a fashion or lipstick sense but in a grub sense also.
Nothing quite lifts like Scarlet.
Red is a good colour for bringing out your inner pizzazzz or your inner poet. For example. One late night a gentleman friend was driving me home and as we approached a junction there were many red signals and I was taken with those lights. "Looks like someone has thrown dozens of rubies onto black cloth"
Such is fantastic red.

I digress.

Nasi Goreng can be as grand or as plain a meal as you like. I wallop the lot into a gaily patterned dish, its pattern and colours colliding marvellously with bits and bobs of green and orange veg, pale yellow egg and browned pork shoulder.

How to eat Nasi Goreng.
With a Chinese soup spoon.
Takes a while but this has many advantages. 1. You get to savour every spoonful and 2. You won't get indigestion.
To accompany... several teaspoonfuls of either redcurrant jelly or, if like me you have a sister-in-law who does preserves, some shiny Quince jelly. Either one adds a yummy sweetness which goes well with spicy ricey.




Afterwards I'll open a can of peaches.

No Where

There's no space, no place
inside my head
but a ballroom, a universe
inside my heart

...Oven Heaven

Stacked in the oven tonight is...

Chunked par boiled parsnips scattered with brown sugar,black pepper and a hush of salt are being glazed by two thumb nail sized bits of butter.
In a white rectangular dish is potato boulangere. Thickly sliced unpeeled tatties lay entwined with slivers of onion braise in milk and stock. Seasoning as above. Love this homely dish goes with anything and is good natured on account of still tasting good if neglected or forgotten about.
Pork chops. White fat surrounding pretty pink flesh. Will cook till well done, like my chops tawny.
Decided against the bread and butter pudding opting instead for the remainder of canned apricots with the last smidgens of double cream.
Apple slices are waiting in a saucepan ready to be fluffed. I love splattering apple sauce on chops. A thin gravy will pool around. Making, dare I say it, a Tuesday night dinner fit for some King or other. If royalty did ever drop by I'd be mortified. Not on account of my food but by my disregard for formality. I sometimes eat pork with a spoon.

I'd better shove off now, have the table to lay and Mother to soothe, the poor old bean had a bit of a turn an hour ago and is, as I write, prostrate with sadness over vomiting up her lunchtime oxtail soup and raspberry jelly.

Bugger.


About half seven....... BBC2......... semi final footie. Hoping for a London win with Crystal Palace.
Gertcha!

Masterchef at 9:)

Up with old girl Dawn, what a bobby dazzler she is.
Tearing along the Ashingdon road, headlamps lighting the hard road ahead and me in cherry red dressing gown.
Taking Mr H to station has its advantages. Only I can't think of them right now.
Oh yes...I get to think.

About Sally Lunns and Penny Buns, baked goodies I'm going to make.
Also eager to make a Genuine Pork Pie. Complete with jelly. At 6:30 am I was waiting for kettle to boil and as I waited I flicked through a freebie paper and saw a line drawing, a very good one actually, of a man's hands assembling a Pork Pie. Hmmm I thought studying the veins carefully I'd like to have a go at them. Kettle boiled, teapot filled I tore out the piece and stuck it on the fridge.
Other things aching to get baked/made are fish pies, Cornish Pasties and Peanut Sables.
By the way yesterday I impulse bought a large headed Cauliflower, it looked so regal I just had to have it. Will make a rich cheese sauce and pour over. I wonder if an addition of fried bacon would be too much, over egging an already great dish? I'll let the idea ferment.

(One piece of excellent news, as I type, Mother is standing at the sink doing ablutions with a white sponge and Dove bar.) Do hope she doesn't make a puddle/fall in the bath/use my scent/get the toothbrushes mixed up/come out naked.)

Being cooked today:
Pork Chops with apple sauce, potatoes, probably roasted and peas, an under valued vegetable.
For pudding, for mum, sugar free strawberry jelly, for Mr H and I bread and butter pudding.

(She's still in there...)

Ok that's enough for now. I have to get breakfast, porridge for two please. Mine sweetened with pure natural sugar, hers ruined by Canderel. (Tried it in me tea this morning and it FROTHED, YUK!

(She's out, erect and smelling clean, dear )

Good Late Night News.......

22:30.
Just been complimented. A Kiss through a veil.
Had some real Chinese food watching 'Casino' on DVD.
Ribbed mum over her insistence on carrying blasted Zimmer... urged her to use it as intended... an old lady's extra legs.
Then jigged in front of mirror.
Me not her.
Felt relaxed and light headed by 22:00 hrs. MSG overdose? Or just hours of cinematic/munchy gratification.

So despite unreturned calls, leaden upper back region, crazy whipped up silver hair, slight craters under eyes and unsolicited soppy love mail I've had a peach of a day:)

Goodnight All.

Waffling on Account of Feeling Pleased To Be Back

I'm back...and this time it's...

JUST FOR FUN!

So don't ask about mum...Won't tell anyway...What I will say however is that today the unkillable old dear ate some of my homemade Leek soup. "Mmm" she squeaked "This is velly nice" (teeth missing) And so the saga goes on...

On my front things are hanging steady, not too much to cry about except for daily mother- related back pain (lifting her has taken its toll on my vertabras and surrounding tissues.
But I mustn't complain otherwise I would lose all of my readers, who, I'm sure, have remained very loyal during my absence...

This break away wasn't due to blogging boredom but to my PC getting ill. After ages of tinkering and scratching of heads away it went to the docs and away it stayed. But now thanks to Dr.Bytes of Rayleigh I am virus free and in possession of a new Hard Drive.

Have an unbelievably big To-Do list for this week. Beginning with phone calls...Hiss and double hiss...Jaunty taxi rides to Hospitals...The making of umpteen blooming sugar free jellies, searching for a fancy frock for Friday, ( I am allowed out sometimes), chatting with District Nurses, especially like Sandra, all bubbly she is and full of non-stop diabetes related wisdom...Also be popping to local butcher for Lamb Necks.
Reminds me, mine has been giving me what for, must have been the acrobatics caused by the falling wardrobe.

Oh well I do have a few new bits and bobs to cheer me, bought several 'new' handbags lately also a few books, one all about 'England' edited by Richard Ingrams (he of Oldie magazine and Private Eye) it's crammed with warm and wonderful snippets by writers throgh the ages who had something stirring and unsentimental too say about England. Also to read is Wilkie Collins's 'The Woman In White'. Looking forward to the day when I'm relaxed enough to turn page after page of the frightener without any stoppages...
Another big buy ( £2) was an ornamental oil lamp, shade amber, metal base black decorated in a gypsy style. Naiive flowers in gaudy colours.
And for another £2 a pair of sandwich cake tins. Ideal for a 7 incher.



A new picture will soon head this blog on account of me getting a little browned orf with the Brittania Bird.
:)