I stayed at home yesterday. I didn't go out. My cheeks weren't slapped by the wind.
It felt odd.
Not going out I mean. It's become a ritual. Every morning Mother staggers to the bathroom while I lurk outside. Listening. Then, if all is well, I pour her into her nice comfy black trousers and out we trot.
Every day.
But yesterday was different, we agreed we were both too unwell to shop. Both feverish with headaches, her having intimate personal problems and me with a a cracking crunching jaw and blocked conk. Nah, home and rest with nice Mr Horsehound doing the teamaking...
The plumber came too.........

At 6pm.
He was truly shocked by what he saw. Not by me or mother, or Mr H for that matter, but by the atrocious way our new boiler had been installed. The poor man stood stunned. His cake and tea going deathly cold on account of this.
I won't go into all he said, suffice to say he's coming back on Monday.
He needs more time, he said, the boiler is a "shambles".

And so as the Denzel Washington lookalike licked his tea cup dry I took mother's microwaved roast beef dinner in.

 

                                                              My Plumber

 And so as I sat on the arm of mother's settee I pondered life
No hot water,  57, hot flushes and terminally ill loved one dripping gravy.
Then I looked on the bright side.
I've started reading tea leaves.

I've been wondering whether to blog. Should I write a piece now or wait till I feel better?

Feeling better might take some time so..

The holiday was fantastic, an enormous barn of a place, more cathedral than farmhouse. Several times I felt waves of spirituality wash over me...Especially when I stood on the grass with binoculars observing a moonlit sky.
Anyway after leaving a welcome basket of tea, coffee and homemade cake the owners left us.. I was relieved on account of the man of the business being overly jolly.
I just wanted him out and us IN!

And inside was luscious.A lot of money had been spent and we couldn't wait to unpack and play.

Mother was cool in her new home, falling into the brown leather sofa without effort. I felt her recently acquired dry skin cream was doing the bizzo in the butto region.
As for Mr Hairy and myself we just did what all friends do when presented with unimaginable joy, we goofed and grinned smiling like the happy couple we were.
It was an enormously generous gift Hairy had handed Mother and myself. And we were determined to love every hour.

Shopping trips to Maldon and Burham were successful, clothes for mum and a tan leather handbag for me. Hairy splashed out on a rainproof coat and leather jacket.
During one excursion we needed sustenance so barged our way into a coffee shop for tea, hot chocolate and toasted sandwiches.
And as I ate I thought....Here I was, happy but aching, my arm around mum's shoulders, sitting opposite a wonderfully barmy man.
Yeah, life was ok.

Then we came home and my jaw started playing up.
And it's still having a ball.
I will, after my cold has gone, see a doc. No two ways about it. I can't forever mash me food between me gappy front teeth like an aging rabbit .
Bugger.

Talking of pain. The boiler is still broken. But the gasman cometh this p.m.

And so as I write....Mother is dozing on her settee being supported by magazines newspapers and bottles of diabetic friendly linctus. Mr Horsehound is tinkling with the washing up listening to Radio 4. Mr Hairy sending supportive texts.

X

Bakeathon

1 Chicken Pie

12 Peanut Butter and Banana Muffins

1 Cinnamon Loaf


The first bake made from yesterday's leftover roast chicken, the second using ripe bananas and half a jar of peanut butter and thirdly, my favourite, filling the bungalow with the delicious warm scented aroma of hot cinnamon.
Oh my giddy aunt...baking..... so comforting, so calming, so worthwhile. So essential. I Love it.

The Pie is for tonight's tea and if there's any left Mr Horsehound will eat it cold tomorrow with chutney. A dozen Muffins will be packed alongside my socks  when Mr Hairy Suit, Mother and myself toddle orf tomorrow on a late Summer/early Autumn break into the nether regions of the Essex countryside.
 The 'S' shaped Cinnamon Loaf will be for our breakfast and for snacking on.

We're all hoping this mini break will give mum a little respite from her intolerable day-to-day set up here at the Bungalow.
I'm looking forward to it too. And although my job will be the same at least there will be a different view from the window.

Pretty Cool eh?

I need to pack a few bits now, and won't make the mistake of taking too many clothes. Travelling light. Talking of travelling I'm reading Jack Finney's 'Time and Again'. Already had the pleasure of this fine read but feel the urge to once again, go back in time. It is already packed in my mini suitcase along with toothpaste and prayer mat. Although one doesn't need to bend the knee to beg.
Mr Hairy will be donning his reading glasses too, he'll have Terry Pratchett for company, as for poor mama she'll be gazing glassy eyed at divorcing anorexic celebrities lavished over the pages of pointless magazines.

And so as bullets fly in the darkened drawing room (Dirty Harry on DVD) and Mr Horsehound catches up on more intellectual pursuits in the kitchen (radio 4) I type.
What a set-up.

Treasure

After yesterday's non-stop 'doing all I can for mother' day (she needed medical confirmations, pharmacist reassurances and hot damp treks around town) I watched, for one hour only, an episode of Columbo.
And while watching I sank a little deeper into the wine red cushions, wishing I could stay all day, all through the night, letting myself be mesmerised by hours of movies and a little X Factor tosh...I wanted to vanish. Disappear.
My sit-downs are few...When Columbo had bagged the bad guys
I clipped old yellowing nails, bed bathed her and felt crushed looking into her hollowed weeping eyes. After taking some more painkillers Mum gave up her settee for a lie down on her bed whilst I made some Cornish Pasties.

I sat at the table chopping and slicing meat and veg as an American actor grimaced and gurgled as he turned from an All American Guy into a rotten werewolf.
It was a silly film but such a comfort.
I've made seven pasties,  four for this evening and three to freeze.


GOOD THINGS

Looking forward to tonight's X Factor, another opportunity to shed the apron and latex gloves and don my laughing hat.

I have lots of lovely apples to cook with. I'm thinking..Pies, cakes, crumbles, and just plain baked with syrup.

Having a few days away next week. Olde farmhouse, own pond, beams and lots of shops a car ride away.
Hairy Suit's idea. Mother to chaperone. Might need a bigger car so we can take her orthopaedic mattress. Hope it doesn't deflate.

 

Oh What A Morning

After a heart breaking revelation from mum late last night I slept uneasily. She's losing her sight and can barely walk so it's no surprise she wishes she was with dad...

This morning, after making breakfast for Hairy Suit, ( My God that man loves food) I made haste to Morrisons but not before reassuring a stay at home mum that we'd definitely hit the shops tomorrow..... she believed me. A hop skip and jump around Rochford might just be what the doc would order...
Mum's tears are plentiful.
As is her bravery.
What a gal.

Swanning around Mo's place is long black and white woollen skirt and black leather biker jacket I was the epitome of cool, but only one look in my trolley and you'd realize I was nothing but a toe curlingly humble homemaker who has a penchant for baked goods and bleach.
I felt light-headed as I trawled the aisles, no-one aggravated me, no-one existed, I was in my own perfectly peaceful bubble.

Back home to Hairy and a cuppa.
He's handy about the house...shelving expert, veg peeler, washer-upper and mother-sitter. Here he is taking up a hem.

After he did me stitching I booted him out and back to his other home, I then made an ALL BRAN loaf and sat with mother.

England v. Ukraine

Hodgo couldn't have been pleased with 0-0. His players, my boys, did their best (Christ!) but to not much avail. The Ukranians punched and fought, felling a few in the process and we too doing our bit but neither side popped one in.
So as mum, myself and Monty sat close together watching the eagerly  awaited spectacle I wondered about our next match against Montenegro in October.
More of the same I expect. More worry, more nervous anticipation but goals I hope. Because if we don't get a resounding victory Hodgo and the lads will be in for a few sleepless nights because a few days later we, England, meet the clowns that are POLAND...
And I for one cannot imagine a more sick inducing night than being in another do or die game...They give me the pip.

I'm going to Sainsbury's now and hanging from the rear view mirror are two little England balls. Because. I Still Believe...

                                                                      Jan Tomaszewskj
                                                          Poland's Goalkeeper who stopped England
                                                          qualifying for the 1974 World Cup.
                                                         

England 4 Moldova 0

                                                Captain Steven Gerard. I'd beat a lamb's bottom for my Captain.

                                                                       Ricky Lambert on instead of Wayne Rooney. Nice.
       

                                                            Dan Welbeck scored twice then turfed off for kicking the ball...


I loved every moment of the match not taking my eyes off the ball even when a hot oily giggle of Lim Lam soft noodles slithered down my frontage. Awesome.


So what now?
Roy's lads, Roy's little soldiers, now face Ukraine, who are almost in the same position/boat as us. Played 7 Won 7 but are a point down on us.
Tuesday's Vital game against Ooooohkraine will yet again see fans from both nations screaming and clutching their faces as the little ball bounces from one end of pitch t'other.
Love It...
I will of course arrange my day around the game. Feeling incredibly excited whilst shopping then....Fixing a light supper, and with mum perched on her orthopedic cushion we will watch...Another Must Win Game.
I hope though that sounds of Monty slurping up gravy drenched beef slices from the carpet, as he did last night,  will be replaced by the noise of  gentle munching. Probably half of one of mum's pork sausages.


Today I'm taking it easy...

Lord Ricky Lambert takes Rooney's Place

                           


I'm looking forward to tonight...

England V Moldy... with a Chinese Take Away and packed settee.
Mr Hairy, mum, Mr Horsehound and a very excitable me.... 


Oh Lord I hope Roy and Ricky gets us a result x

My sensible linen frock rocks!
Thought though that linen was supposed to be cooler than cotton, man.
Tosh!
I'm squelched.

At any rate I'm still managing to haul mum around, do essentials in the old body dept; and create a beautiful environment in which to linger....If only I could. To Linger is my ambition.



As I wash lettuce for our tuna and pork pie salad tonight my mind will on Roy's Boys...Because....Tomorrow night England play Moldova at Wembley and it will be that  which will keep me afloat as mum and me go on yet another crazy excursion to lovely Southend-On-Sea
 I love international games.

                                                                       Moldova bad

                                                                    England good

 

                                                                  Ion Caras Manager of Moldova
                                                                               Bad

                                                                              Roy
                                                                            Better.

After sorting out mother's many needs and wants I bundled her back into the front room (she'd been too close lounging in the conservatory) I then started a massive clear out of the kitchen.
Into a plastic sack went ornaments, jugs, pictures, bottles and pots. I was, you see, beginning to feel overcome, overwhelmed, suffocated by STUFF. It had to go.

I love collecting, as  you know, but there comes a time, a telling time if you like, when one realizes, in many aspects of life, what one does and doesn't want. This morning was such time. I didn't want big jugs. As I de-cluttered shelves, taking away all but the very best favourites I questioned my health. It hasn't been as incredibly good lately and 'tis true I'm rapidly approaching some kind of middle age so I think the time had come for an Emotions MOT.
Starting orf with getting rid of the superfluous.

So as I dropped bowls and pots and ceramic chickens and sweet cute jam pots into the sack I began to feel rejuvenated.It was as if, with every once must have object I threw away, my world and vision was made clearer.
I think having a very emotional and physically wrecked Mother lurking in the bowels of the bungalow has defo taken its toll not only my back but on every fibre of my being. So much so that I've taken to talking to my invisible dad. I feel murderously protective towards mum, if anyone even looks at her either patronizingly or with impatience my claws extend as does my tongue.

And that is why this morning and afternoon, I swept bric-a-brac orf the shelve in an effort to reclaim some space.

So without a tear dropped I bagged a ton of  trinkets which will, tomorrow, return to the place from whence they come...


Cooking tonight:
Of course

A Girl's Past

In the snow flecked coal shed
lies hide
their truth dank, wicked
without hope of forgiveness
In the snow flecked coal shed

Imperious
the fib teller recounts
beastly days out back
when, with, hands lost in carbon black
he cleaved to his angel
Monstrous sweetness

A sound, an energy of wings perhaps
releases the captured
and off she flies
with coal black lies dissipating into a white sky





Angela Norris




 

Oh Baby

                                                Braised bacon, jacket potatoes, steamed greens, carrots and apple wedges braised with bacon. I served this with some redcurrant jelly and a Merlot spritzer. I am no wine respecter.

                                           
                                               A good thick minced steak burger made with just the addition of an egg and seasoning. Popped on some leaves and covered with Cheddar, ketchup, raw onion and tomato slice. Coleslaw and homemade Wedges make this oh so simple dinner a much loved winner. In the background....My only concession to healthy eating..A pair of plums.

                                               

Now I'm really flying...My favourite pudding of all time... Jam.
Utterly moreish, so easy and economical to make and what makes me really go beserkly happy is it's nuked for four minutes in my microwave. The days of a two hour steam are so over. I do feel though that I'm letting my sister cooks down. But happy faces are what I like to see and when a slice of this plump bum bum of a pud is laid on the plate all I get are wows and cors!!! Guilt Gone.


Talking of food..

Today's dinner is a roast chicken, with peas, roast potatoes and a sage gravy. And for afters...Plum crumble and custard. The plums were given to me by Mr Hairy. After stoning his purple fruits I put them in a baking dish, topped them with Demerara sugar and cinnamon. Then topped that with a flour, brown sugar, butter, muesli enriched crumble mix. Heaven.

I'll be watching The X Factor later so I'd better get flying...........................

Hope you're all drooling!