Playing Today

Needs lunch

Roddick's Lunch

Bhagdatis Can't wait for lunch

My lunch

The Roddick/Ferrer match could see killer sparks electrifying the middle classes on Centre. Roddick being like a hyper-ferret, Ferrer, a rat on acid.

After them comes Murray and Bhagdatis. A game to bring out the beastlet in me...
I've always had a hate/hate relationship with the Scot but recently, due to emotional earthquakes I'm rooting for him. My head and heart clearly mushed.
And to my readers who loathe him I can only apologise for this sickening turnaround. Sorry Dig.

Away from the courts I'm cooking and caring.
Love All.

Another lovely day ahead.................

Mum just had her tea, me too.

Wildly overgrown shrubs dancing to the wind's tune.
Sunlight on the mirror.

My Day.

Packed with love.

Sharing a giant pork pie with mum.
A chicken risotto with Reg.
A joke with the shop girls.
Bird ornament banter with Paul the delivery man. (the polyresin, suitable for exterior use, noisy Blue Tit being a birthday gift from my friend, Knuckle Head.
Deep and meaningful looks with mum, and although brief, spoke unutterable truths.
Caring and sharing with Mr H. as he helped with the housework. My burdens are his burdens. Especially the bins.
Feeling as if my life is just about to kick orf.
Wide Avenues to run along, dark and bright streets to wander and new roads to set foot on...

Today has been good.


Thank you to all my mates.

Knuckle Head. Ex-Copper. Chatterbox extraordinaire. Lidl shopper.
The Two Terrys. One very old and currently in Crete. The other, middling age and incognito. Undercover. Mostly in The Golden Lion.
Mr and Mrs Nof. Wise and thoughtful. And persistent readers.
The Two Jeannies. One in Essex, the other in Michigan. Women of a certain age. Bearing characteristics of gals way past 40. Ginger beer and loved up.
GG. Writer. Fellow blogger. Lady. Likes my writing.
Digger. Writer. Mancunian. Drinker and wit.
Disasterfilm blogspot bloke, writer and former NHS worker who has chickens and aunts. A fabulous wordsmith. Who said I was as mad as a box of frogs.

It's fab how we all bounce around in our own little glass balls, sometimes smacking up against each other.......... with profound or daft words.

Or, if we really know each other, a hug or two.

Goodnight All from a very sleepy, extremely naughty and very lucky old blogger.

Update

....What a great morning we had....

Stuff.
Including mags, bags and boots!

Then pill-pick up from Mr Saraghingighis pharmacy.
"How lovely you look today" said Mr S.
"It's my birthday" I beamed rather embarrassingly
"And can mum have another packet of you know what"
"20, 60 or 100? he whispered over the cough sweets
"Oh 20" I answered " It's only been two days...."

Then into the Co-Op for papers, potatoes and high roughage cereals:(


My stuff:
Handbag of huge proportions. Brown, squashy, shiny. I think I'm in love.
Lace up high heeled boots. For Autumn and beyond...
Poetry by Ted Hughes.

Mum's stuff:
Murder books.
Good Housekeeping.
Hot sausage roll.


Then home.
Drinking tea then a ratatattat on door.
Delivery of Flowers...

So a good morning.
Texts. Calls. Emails. Localised shopping. Chats with bearded man in car park and caring ladies in charity shops.
Mum loving the sun.
My back not hurting any more due to Reg's Wheelchair Hoister Invention.


And............. Andy Murray second out on Centre Court.
28th June looking super duper:)

It's my birthday day

X

££££££££££££££££££££££££££££££££££££££££££££££££££££££

X

Pink sparkly cards. Red humorous cards. White expensive cards. Daft cards. Soppy cards. Cash loaded cards:)

X

Pink Frock

X

Wishes. Best. Lots of. Lovely lovely lovely.

X

Hot Squeeze

XXX

Txts. Home and abroad.

X

Sweet demands for a wheelchair ride. Eh? On me birthday? Ok. But no sausage roll crumbs in me car.

X

Making me own Birthday cake!

:)

LOVE IN ABUNDANCE.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gorgeously sultry day.
I'm all bare arms and ankles!

Did the usual shop dash, mum buying some more books and me getting a pair of decent shoes for Mr H.
For myself? A red and white floral sleeveless frock with patch pocket. It isn't a maxi so my knees will be showing.

All was going ok till mum started crying by the paperbacks.
I felt helpless as her head dipped and my heart punched, what could I do except put my arms around her shoulders.
"I'm thinking about the baby" she sobbed (baby being a term of affection she had for dad).
I was powerless and that's the problem with dealing with grief, however extensive your vocabulary when you need words they just don't come.

Then we popped into the new Sainsburys where we loaded up another basket with doughnuts, chicken and Hovis wholemeal.
As I parked up mum by the papers, I had a laugh with the girl manning the till.
"£19:15" she said Essexly
"Oooh, the year I was born" I piped up doing a mock crotchety bend over.
The wee thin red haired thing doubled up.
It feels so good putting on a brave face...



Tennis and sausage roll now:)

Um.......after doing the hospital/blood run we popped to shops:)
Books, knickknacks, doughnuts. Bra.

Can't keep the old sweetie pinned down, and believe me I've tried. But that's why I like mum so much, she doesn't know or understand the meaning of the word 'Can't'.
Dying... She still flashes ten pound notes.


Must fly, have millions of things to do before Mr. Murray comes on............And I won't miss him.
And another thing....All this concern for Mummy which is consuming every waking moment and gashing through my terrified heart like a blade must be turning my head soft because....
I want Murray to win.


:)

Mauler Murray

Plays Davydenko this afternoon on Centre...

Mother's essential outdoor activities therefore postponed.

One has one's priorities after all.

Raspberry Cheek! Recipe

Slices of buttered white bread.
Spread with a little raspberry jam, just enough to hold fast a few canned raspberries.
Cover with stiff cream.
Cut into fancy shapes if you feel the need otherwise leave alone.
Serve with strong tea and a little company.

Only thing on my mind is football.

But when a gap occurs, like today, when I pushed mum up and down Southend High Street, I think of other things.

Other things such as...

Cakes. All manner of. Made for and eaten by loved ones. Bread Pudding, rock cakes and, up and coming, an orange curd Swiss Roll.

Friends. Loved for their looks and everything else.

The Future. For its brightness. Its possibilities. These darker days are like living with the curtains continuously drawn.

Spring Cleaning in June. Bin bags now full. Yesterday's desperately needed stuff now heading back to whence it came. Hoover booming out its sweeping melody. New fat naked duvet waiting to be unrolled. I love getting in bed with new stuff.

My 'new' shoes. Think...Judy Garland. Yellow Brick Road. Only mine aren't red, they're coffee coloured.

Today has been fraught at times with mum getting upset in M&S over cakes and then a little later cursing a black t-shirted choir doing their bit for charity. Their singing was fine, I soaked it up, was chorally and uplifting. Glad I stumbled on, You made my hot chocolate even sweeter!

Mum's morning was not good and despite Mr H and I's super-human efforts she remained under a cloud, only time the cloud got blown was when she was in Smiths buying crime books.



Now I must fly... I need to make burgers and coleslaw.
Yummy nosh.
Excellent therapy.



P.S. I got a handmade birthday card from my Auntie Ivy. I like Ivy, she's ok, lives with her latest husband in South London, has hundreds of off- spring, kids, grand kids, great grand kids and knowing Ivy, probably great great grand kids. Ivy's been around the block and is quite old. She lived in Clapham Junction when I was a child and had a pine table and kind of hastened the death of her second husband by feeding him nothing but eggs from battery reared chickens. Don't think Free range was available then.

I am Human

But Cornish Pasties are gods...

Last night mum ate a big one, wanted seconds, and got it. As she smashed it I came to the conclusion that my fat pasties, made with lean Irish beef, turnips, onions, tatties, butter and lard were
essential especially for the sick elderly.

And the English Bedfordshire Clangers made mincemeat out of Ukraine.

So last night was wickedly scrummy.

Not only did Reg and I do a double take when mum held out her plate 'Oliver' fashion but The Roone headed one in.
Tuesdays's don't come more interesting than that.


Today:
Just now.
Dressed disturbingly untidy I drove Mr H to waiting train>>>>>>>>>>>>then was transfixed to the gruesome hall carpet as mum quickly walked without aids to the kitchen where she sat down at the table like a normal breakfasting person asking where we were going today and where was her free range egg.

Looks like Wednesday will be fabulous!

Bedfordshire Clangers v. Roll Meat Stewed With Buckwheat Porridge and Mushrooms


Kick Off 19:45

Donbass Arena
Donetsk

Only bit of banter I had today was in Sainsburys.
The woman behind and the lad on the till.
Woman bumped into me and we got talking about wine, swedes and husbands.
She loves the first, hates the second and lost the third two years ago.

"Is that your mum?" she asked as I pushed mum up to the carrier bags.
"Yep, having a day out" I piped up feeling as if my back would break if I shoved mum around for much longer.
But push her I did. First to hospital, then for groceries, then to Oxfam.
It was lovely being in the sunlight.

The 20 something lad on the till who has a physical deformity loves me very much. How do I know that? Because he blushes and finds it difficult to talk. He did chance his arm though as I dropped a turnip in me bag.
"You like Baldrick?"
Oh yes I thought. Blackadder and all that.
"Of course I do" I replied "I love all men with ear hair and no brain"
He absolutely chuckled.... so much so that he forgot to hand back me Nectar card...We parted without major grudges being held....
All in all the till experience was a good one.


Back home to a fish pie...

Tonight I'm having a footie party, will be serving homemade Cornish Pasties and beans and, for afters, Lemon Puddle Pudding and cream.

I can't wait.

P.S.
Rooney the new Pele?
Not in my lifetime Guv!

Monday Thoughts

As mum perused the paperbacks she asked God to remove the pain from her right arm.
Her arm resembling a yellow submarine.
It's the cancers.
He obliged. For a while.

I wheeled her around Rochford looking in four charity shops and Gregg's the bakers.
We had such fun.
With the summer wind freaking our hair out we looked like we'd been on dates with men in haystacks.
We spent insanely.

For her:
Twenty books.
Four handbags.
Five blouses.
Six crusty rolls.
Three pieces of bread pudding.
Two sausage rolls.
Two custard tarts.
One strawberry flan.

For me:
One blue skirt.
One blue dress.
One absolutely DIVINE tan leather bag.
A pink sweater.
A novel. The Secret Life of Bees.
A Survival Handbook. The Worst Case Scenario.
A wall mountable bookcase.
A grater.

I flit about mum like a spirited butterfly talking constantly because in the silences I'm more 'aware'.
Anyway...
We came home and watched a great little British film called Town of Trial starring Johnny Mills. We ate rolls and cakes and there were crumbs all over the bed.

I'm glowing...

On account of.......

........the shifting of kitchen furniture (probably jump out of bed at 2 am to put the table and dresser back in their original places but for the time being I'm having a ball!)

..............dashing out this morning to buy anything and everything Lavender based. Air freshener of course, bleach 2 bottles and one gorgeous tub of Cyclax body butter. Not only was I lavender potty I was bathroom accessories potty too...........
One new bright green bath mat for mum's bum, the little lovely deciding she was ready for the plunge, one blue mosaic patterned shower curtain, a deep green 100% cotton flannel, Dove shampoo and conditioner to add more lusciousness to my silver locks, although I have to say my hair has been looking yummy lately. Fluffed and fingered.

................Big Bag of Bird seed for my outdoor mates.
Robin was on chair back whilst I drank tea. "Hello matey" I stupidly said. Probably faint if he answered. I do so love talking to birds because I know they're listening which is so unlike the great Mr H...

But credit where it's due....as I type the poor old love is laying face down on the bathroom floor with old Stanely knife in hand nipping and cutting my new wood effect lino.
Sunday rests are for old people...

Now I must fly....have dresser to shift, beef to roast and people to attend to;)

It's sunny too.....

My mate Reg popped in yesterday suggesting we, that's mother, himself and I toootle orf to check out the charity shops in Hockley.
"Ooooh yep and cor alright"
So off we went in his 50YEAR OLD red and white Triumph Herald, how it roared along the rocky Ashingdon Heights till eventually coming to a perfectly parked standstill behind the Co-Op.

Mother was pushed up and over kerbs her little bod absorbing the shocks gladly, she was delighted to be OUT! Spending dad's money.
And so after a thorough spending, Reg slipped in a small surprise...
After strapping mother in and stuffing me on the back seat with all the carrier bags he burned that motor till it could burn no more...Eventually ending up in some squirrel infested Woods.....

It was at this time I realised that not only does Reg have enormous intellect and shoulders he's also altruistic.

Read on.....

As mother sat in her wheelchair in the muddy car park Reg pulled out a box of chocolate doughnuts, smart blue gas burner, red chipped tin kettle and two flowery picnic chairs and proceeded in a military yet homespun fashion to make a nice pot of tea.

We, that's mother and I, were extremely chuffed by the actions of this very nice man, who, by the way, is totally unaware of anything other than service to others.

The tea tasted sweet even though it was sugarless.

Roast Beef v. Meatballs

Kick-Off 19:45

Olympic Stadium, Kiev

BBC1
Radio 5 Live!


Being presented tonight...
Chicken Risotto.

The Bungalow......... truly international:)

We are not Sad. We are Wise.

After mum's blood test this morning we drove in fabulous sunlight to the charity shop.

2 skirts.
3 blouses.
5 books.

Joan served us, her red shining face a picture of well maintained health and happiness. I like Joan. But as she bagged up our goodies I wished that I could syphon off some off her effervescent juices and drip them into my pale limp wheelchair seated mum.
Mum's cancer has travelled from her breasts and infiltrated her bones and possibly her liver too so yesterday's doc trip was hot, mad and head- bangingly painful.

Later that day...We chatted over tea, her on her bed me on the edge of the settee. And then she said something which just about sums her up.
"Why should I get away with it?"
She wasn't angry or bitter not even surprised she just accepted it like another cup of tea.

I'm making us something to eat after writing this then I'll be cooking all afternoon. I'm hoping she jumps out of bed and zimmers her way to the kitchen so we can share EVERYTHING. The sunshine coming through the windows, and the juicy but gut wrenching news about Harry Redknapp.

Life goes on H.

:)

POWODZENIA POLSKA!

Poland v. Russia

Hope the Poles win.

Always had a soft spot for them.

Because.

Once upon a time in London an old Pole helped me carry an old armchair up a lot of concrete steps.

X

Raining when I raged to dentist, brolly flapping, handbag too heavy...grr.

All wonderful in my mouth said hygienist so all she did was dig a little whilst rattling on about plaque and her sister's wedding in Cornwall

Left there feeling a million dollars then off to post office for Mother type stuff. All absolutely necessary of course but so time consuming and especially irritating when wearing fancy shoes instead of boots. But I plucked on.

Then.

Doctor's to hand in paperwork.
Sainsbury's for beans.
But also picking up Baking Book written by the winner of last year's Great British Bake-Off, Essex girl Jo Wheatley.
I loved her from day one and was so pleased when she triumphed. The others were a bunch of so and sos. Jo was clean cut and likeable. I've only flicked a couple of pages but I know her book will become stained with love and butter:)

Now I must fly, got dinners to do and a mother to soothe... She's becoming more and more excited by Euro 2012 and is right now watching the Czechs play Greece. I want the Czechs to win, mum wants Greece because.......She likes John Travolta...

Being laid on the table tonight:

Corned Beef
Jacket pots
Barbequed beans. (Regular beans with added spices and stuff)
*
Apple crumble and custard.


Now I must fly:)

We didn't lose
:)

Already prepping myself for Saturday's game with Sweden. I love Abba. But that's all.


Yesterday with mum was hard work and I'm visiting the dentist this morning, that's why I soak up every splash of pleasure which drops my way.

Now Marmite.

17:00 hrs...

Don't phone, don't txt, don't swing by with flowers or fudge....(prefer yellow blooms and Sainsbury's clotted cream fudge)


Won't, can't respond.


Half-Time the only safe time


England v. France











Off out a little later, you know where with you know who.

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


x

Worst thing to happen yesterday apart from calling in the doc to sort out mum's bad reaction to a certain drug, was my abysmal Gingercake. I was not happy. An excellent gingercake should be moist. Mine was dry.
But despite multi-tasking (cooking/entertaining/running back and forth to save mum) I still had the chutzpah to serve the sad cake to guests.

And so...
After a busy evening I went to bed only to be woken twice...(by you know who). 2 am and 3:45 am.
But amidst the tears and fears all I thought about was the Gingercake.
You see there wasn't much I could for mum, not any more, and that's a sobering thought so for sanity's sake I pondered my next great bake...:)
A damn fine dark sticky gingercake... second to none...


So pleased the French Open is on telly, feels safe and lovely watching Nadal v. Djokovic. All I need to go with them is tea and a nice roast chicken:)


Tomorrow I'll be at the hospital all day (9:30 to at least 3:30 I expect) so will, I suppose, miss England v. France. Being an optimist though I'm hoping the docs whizz bang through her appointments.
ITV 1... 4pm.... Cannot wait:)

Enjoying all the build-up to a big match is part of the fun. So cross digits we're home, intact, tearless and watching Roy's Boys take on Lauro's Garcons.

Now I must fly.....
:)

For M.

........Once upon a time there lived a boy who was, by nature and name, Beautiful.

In his hands he holds fortunes made of plastic and rope but in his head and coming forth from his uninformed mouth, these are a prince's jewels...

After toast went to charity shop and spent £10.
Frisky gales and limp sunshine.......... but being outside felt Ooooh!

Ok so stuff bought:

Diamond necklace. Slight and lady like. Hoo hah over lost price tag. Jill deciding a couple of quid was adequate. I concurred. Silly Jilly. Could have got twice that.

Diamond earrings. Delicate clip-on beauties.£1. Will adorn my lobes forever. What little lovelies they are.

Statuette of Modigliani style lady with wings and flower basket. So elegant and fragile... decided not to place her anywhere near Falling Mother. All over the place she's been today. Am concerned but not overly. I think her new drugs are playing up. Will keep a close eye on her. Don't need the wee thing crashing onto me new ornaments now do I?


Strawberry pink fringed scarf. Yummy for bare shoulders on cool summer nights. Hey baby!

Three summer frocks.
1. Tangerine/russet/peach maxi. Can see myself in it either in garden or laying on grass verge somewhere
2. Greek inspired cotton shift dress, absolutely gorgeous. Blue and white, crisp, slight nautical feel so will wear if I get invited onto a barge.
3. Cobalt blue, sleeveless, gathered horizontal bands, over-the-head, slightly shiny... ideal for night out but not to ordinary hostelry. Way too lush for the Pig and Whistle. Prob save it for uptown restaurants or romantic domestic evenings between 7 &11. My place or yourn?

One lined heavy linen skirt. Off white. Essential wear all through the warmer months. Will look fabulous teamed with t-shirts and ethnic style jewellry and my 'new' tan coloured sandals.

One mustard coloured lamp shade with tassles and flowers. ' As New' on label. Debenhams.
Will replace the cream lampshade which is bent.

Paperback Book. The Winter Ghosts by Kate Mosse. Written in the first-person. My preferred style. Intimate. In the action. With the heroine all the way to her end.


Home to a bustly kitchen...cook cook cook all the afternoon!

..................Must just have a word with my online diary...Mum thinks I'm dad.......... since very early this morning the poor darling has been in and out of some kind of pain-ridden fantasy land where she thinks I'm a child or her dear departed husband.
I'm tired but so in love. Not only with her but with life, because life is wonderful.

Euro 2012 Has Begun...Radio in office, tv in drawing room

Poland v. Greece.
As I type Greece is a man down and a goal down at half-time.
Spanish Ref a bit of a numptie.
Tennis from Paris...Djocovic v. Federer. Jock is front.

My hair looks lush. Kind of like a fluffy diamond.

Looking forward to watching the next must-see match...Russia v. Czech Republic. Tonight. ITV 1.

What to eat?
No idea.
I'll have to ask Mum what she fancies!
Yep, the old bean is back in the bungalow.
Given her marching orders as soon as I arrived at hospital. Lovely...
Thanked the nurses and Domestics then off we went home doing a gorgeous detour to McDonalds drive-thru.
"Two regular hamburgers please and a medium fries". Mmmmm felt soooo good. Mum looked like a dolly next to me, skinny legs and silly hair. I felt wickedly matronly, like Mary Poppins with attitude. Leather jacket, jack boots, floral wispy skirt.

Home to tea, burgers and quick phone call to hospital to clarify a part of mum's ENORMOUS pill list! Book-like better describes her drug intake. Lol!
All sorted and down onto the settee I went with my feet tucked under my bottom.
(glad I can still get in certain positions)

So m'dears she is back in the land of the living, and, if all goes well tonight and she eats a decent breakfast tomorrow I MIGHT take her to Southend.
IN HER NEW WHEELCHAIR:)

Thanks to everyone who has mailed, phoned, texted and commented about mum's little upset.

I loved it.
x

An Imperfect End To A Stinker Of A Day.

Mum's wheelchair wasn't delivered. Will be on the phone tomorrow morning...

Mid-morning the docs told mum she would be released this very day.

Mid-afternoon they'd changed their minds. Words failed me.

Mum got very upset indeed.

Managed even to upset me!

Where was I she asked.
On my way I said.
Not good enough.
I should have been there to sort things out to talk to the nurse who said mum could leave today. Find her mum said and find out when I'm leaving.....

My gentle reassurances fell on stony ground. Nothing I said cut through her desperation. So I walked out and sat in in the relatives room. For five minutes.

My wrist is swollen. Some kind of reaction I suppose. Probably due to stress and mum's vitriolic attack on me. I felt, for the first time, like running away and leaving it to the doctors to re-home her.

My hair got wet faffing around in the car park. I hated my lipstick. Pink? Why did I choose pink? I love red. Mind a bit burnt out I supposed. I wanted comfort., that was for sure. So drove to Henry Higgins in Southend for rock and chips.
Fish finished I....

puddled my way to Boots to buy a new foundation cream. Cameo by Maybelline. Haven't tried it yet but I'm sure it'll be fine. Dewy, creamy and as light and fair as a ghost. I loathe heavy make-up, just enough is needed to even out my complexion, and make it look and feel good enough to be kissed and wondered about.


Mr H. isn't home yet. Time 22:49. "Won't be home till 2 at earliest" he moaned into my ear. Something about tech failures or something.
I said nothing words failing me yet again.

So now I fly most willingly to bed leaving behind a stinker of a day but in my handbag a small glass pot of natural beauty:)
Thank you Maybelline:)

Euro 2012 It's Putting Puff In Me Pastry!

1 Day To Go...

(For footie fans...there's a link to UEFA in my sidebar)>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

My head and soul, although in tatters over the fact that I'll probably be out of the house when England face France on the 11th, is relishing the prospect of watching heaps of exciting footie.Sometime. Somewhere. Some chance...
Mother allowing!

I intend to bake apple pasties and whoopie pies for the great occasion and all and sundry are kind of invited to chill out with me and the football ....................No funny business just fellow sports lovers hanging out in the drawing room of me bungalow....sharing bacon and trivia........but not after a day like I had yesterday.
Whoa cowboy!

Major talks with nursies of all sorts, information overload, mum being extra talkative with me but saying zilch to others.
I actually had, for the first time since all this hullaballoo began....a headache of nuclear proportions. Started when I nastily extricated myself from mother's bedside and took cover in the relatives room...Boom boom...the hammer inside my head went. Thought my brain was boiling. Half expected to be found by a couple of Domestics spread out on the floor of the little escape room...
Still, I had a ham sandwich so I wasn't that dying.
Lol!


I took a blanketted mum out again for a ride-along, stopping at Smith's for papers and a small nook where two over painted ladeeeeez were selling home made jewellry.
I pushed mum as close to the tables as possible without bringing them down so she could hold and admire the quite lovely trinkets.
She chose a silvery diamonique watch for herself and for me, a faux pearl bracelet.
Mum's watch was a tad too loose on account of her skinny wrists but later on in the evening, my mate Reg soon had that little prob sorted.
What WOULD we do without the kindness and intervention of the able-bodied.

Went to bed VERY late last night, even forgetting to remove my GENUINE pearl necklace. It felt very warm and moist on waking.



Ok so on to today.
Mother.
That's it.
Will/Must try to relax tonight by....
stoking my boiler with ham and rejuvenating my parched brain cells with a massive inhalation of Clint Eastwood.

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

X

Just The Good News

Yesterday afternoon took mum for a wicked spin around the hospital grounds in a borrowed wheelchair.
I ran. She held on. It felt good laughing with her.

********************************************

I found a room where patient's relatives can hang out 24/7. I spent some time in there last night drinking coffee, eating custard creams and flicking through the dvd collection. The hospital care not only for the physically sick but for the worriers too. I'll be chilling out in there again today, tonight, and to save costs take a couple of sandwiches and possibly a microwaveable hot pot!

****************************************************

Early this morning....De-tangled some red flowers which were being strangled by a mess of sticky weeds. Couldn't bare the thought of flowers being crippled.
Re-filled feeders, saw two robins, one sparrow.

******************************************************

Two days to the start of Euro2012...

****************************************************

That's about it, now I do stuff:)

Up early which was miraculous considering I didn't do sleepybyes till midnight!

But no room for sulkiness because groceries were needed asap so on with some odd clothes and off to Sainsburys...
Food accumulated then off to the end till to shaven headed Jill.
Natter chatter...Weather, Queen, my Handbag, her earrings, then shoving trolley up escalator to windy wonderful almost empty car park.
Home. But not before speaking with shop walker/broom handler Ian. Hater of football lover of bagpipes. I adore the man but bagpipes....Oh dear. We parted in a blowy fashion, me promising not to hold his bagpipes against him, he mocking my love for Roy Hodgson.

Zoomed orf back to a yelling cat and Niramish making.

After packing cupboards and fridge I dashed orf a *Niramish for tonight's tea, had to make it on account of not being able to make it later. Mother taking up 99% of my time.
She phoned early his morning saying she was cheesed off and would I take her a smoked salmon roll... Yes yes of course, be there later....Now let me pull me tights up and down a bowl of rather disappointing porridge:(

Anyway Niramish made, now must rustle up something for luncheon, probably Eggs Benedict not an official pukka Eggs Benedict because I don't have about my person a couple of Muffins. So slices of Warburtons will have to do.

Then, quick powder of nose, reapplication of Firecracker lippy and off to hospital with salmon in me bag!

Any help either emotional or practical would be most welcome.
Think Hug or Washing Up:)



*Niramish is a vegetable curry. I've added a can of coconut milk and cauliflower, no real rules just drop in what you have. Fresh ginger. Garlic of course. Toms. Carrots. Red onions. Mushrooms. Green beans. Potatoes.
Will serve with garlic & coriander naans and perfectly cooked rice.
:)

At God knows what time......

Driving Mr H. To Station Planning The Day Ahead..

Tea. In new teapot. As yet unstained. It is sitting in the middle of the kitchen table waiting to be christened by a pint of Sainsbury's Gold Label. Probably make a cuppa after penning this then it's housework all the way to lunchtime. Talking of food I poached myself an egg this morning, the small thing waddling in the simmering water like a footless duck.

Baking a cake. Probably a moist dark Gingerbread. Although I have a few dodgy lemons in the fruit bowl, might use those up first.

Reading magazines. 'Homes and Gardens'...Intended for rich people who already own the contents of the magazine and bungalow dwellers like me, who yearn for a thatched cottage with a wonky white gate and green Aga.... and open windows with violets in crystal jugs on the polished windowsill.
Homes and Gardens is like advertising, it is aspirational.

'Yours' for the over 50's, content being geared towards healthy or partly healthy grans who support their families and love their country, uber efficient retired active women who run marathons for health and charities, and women who clean for a living or work in Asda. If any of the aforementioned women are single then Yours has a lonely hearts page only it isn't called lonely hearts...It's called Seeking Romance and if you don't fancy sex then turn over the page to Seeking Friendship. "Female,57 non-smoker, cat lover, big fan of the Osmonds ....

Wrestling with Monty. He's been missing his floor tussles. Oh and by the way...so have I;) Especially with him.

After disinfecting my cat inflicted scratches I'll be orf to see Mum, who, by the way phoned earlier this morning asking for more women's things....Will do my two hour bedside stint then limp out for a CostaPacket hot chocolate (will secrete about my person a biscuit which I'll nibble on in the corner away from the fit boys manning the till)
Then back to the ward for more chat, re-filling of plastic beakers with orange squash, patients yelling for commodes and.........holding hands;)

Won't bother to go home I'll be bedside till 8pm then home to Monty. Mr H. being on a late shift so will have time to watch a film before heading to station at 11pm to pick him up which, if memory serves me correctly, is where I came in!


:)

Likes kisses from a lover
The rain hits on the window
and the pane loves it




I'm re-arranging the front room this morning also braising beef then we're going out.

:)

Mum has cancer so Mr H and I are going to Southend-on-Sea.
We'll look in charity shops for bargains galore, have a cup of tea and nice bun then go to see mum.
Be there all day and some of the evening. I'll flap about like a happy hen talking non-stop because I'm a) her loving daughter b) as mad as hell and c) shit scared.
Then we're off to dinner with friends, just hoping it's not another bloody scone.

I have just about had enough.
But the good news is the docs say she can come home before her chemotherapy starts. They can't operate on her bits because her heart is too ill. Couldn't take the strain of the op apparently, that's what they said about dad too. But at least mum will be HOME with me in the bungalow watching Wimbledon, Euro 2012 and one of horse racings best meetings; Newmarket.

So not all in the garden is weeds!

Now I must fly:)

Oh and God Bless Her Majesty and I'm not referring to Liz either!