Pollack. Not good enough for Reg.

Wednesday is Grocery Day. Perfect parking. Trolley of essentials. Humour with cashier whose a Royalist and user of hair thickening shampoos. Barbie.
Thursday is Plumber Day. Mr Someone or whoever. Dyed chestnut brown hair. Huge teeth. Fair rates.
Then comes Friday Day.
A day for chilling, sipping and just generally loosening the clips from my hair!
A cool relaxing start to a Fab Weekend is assured.

Now into the kitchen I go to generally potter and make a Lemon & Poppy Seed Traybake. (Aussie recipe)
Talking of baking (do I do anything else?) I'll be tinkering with a newish version of Strawberry Cheesecake. Condensed Milk being a major ingredient. I'll glaze the strawberries (decently priced from Sainsburys) with melted and cooled jam, won't though have perky nipples of whipped cream all over the shop. Vulgar.

Really looking forward to the weekend.
Possible action outside so hope the weather gods take pity on us mortals by allowing the sun to shed warmth on our dried up old patches.

Talking of dried...I noticed my lower arms are looking a little crepey, so will, after showering again, slap on Industrial Strength Aqueous Cream. It's tested and Paraben Free.
While on the subject...
I consider myself quite fortunate in the Ageing Skin Dept;
My face is wearing well, no parchness at all and my feet are as smooth as pure glass.
Boo boos a.k.a Zonkies are doing alright. Holding their own in the War With Gravity.



Now I really must fly.
Good cooking waits for no man.
Talking of cooking and Man...

One of my male friends made for Mr H and I, a fish fing. Some kind of white fish (pollack probably) was mixed with various veggies, a sort of sauce and baked.
I liked it as did Mr H. but Male Friend who, from now on, will be known simply as Reg was spitting feathers over it, didn't rate it at all. "Disappointed" he said afterwards
And that's the trouble with Cooks/Chefs however many times their guests lick the plate, (incontrovertible evidence) the cook will never be satiated/satisfied.
There'll always be summat wrong with it.
And so it was with Reg and his Pollack.

Bless Him.


Cheerio!

Cardiff and Liverpool...One of the most exciting matches I've seen for a very long time. I felt sorry for the Welshmen as Liverpool sealed it with the very last punch of the net. But being a good sport and good egg and all that I harbour no hard feelings towards Dalglish and his team, it all went to make outstanding sport on this very *British Sunday.

I'm off to sleep now with crazy thoughts about starting another Blog. A serious one. It won't be a ditzy home for double entendre or footballers I can tell you.

Nightie Night All.



* Beef, snooze, Harry Hill.

Here's your problem love...

In a minute a man called Alan Johnson will be on site to go over my motor.


Didn't take him long to slide from one greasy position to another!

Sunday's Are Such A Thing

Weatherwise it's a sweet Spring day. Sunny and not too chilly. Sky looked very big as I put a few things on the line, refilled the bird bath and feeders, and did some half hearted aerobics by the Buddha.
Cooking today is a small chicken and some veg. For pud a chocolate, orange and banana trifle. Will no doubt have a toasted cheese sandwich about seven.
Messed about with my hair this morning after I'd had some sugar puffs and a jammy bagel, I moussed it up and asked John what he thought. John said he preferred it flatter. So I smiled and then stormed off.

I bought stuff yesterday. On account of me having money.

A cream jacket, half price from Primark, God if it'd been any cheaper they might as well as let me have it for free.

Some golden cup hooks. A dozen for 99p. The woman in The Trade Counter who took my money looked like a Romany. I didn't offend her in any way in case she put the bok on me.

A bunch of artifical daffodils for mum. Would take up some of my homegrown ones, but I'm selfish and want to look at them.

Two packs of pretty floral notelets/envelopes. Very feminine indeed. But I will not buy notelets with cats on. I'm not that weak.

Hold Up Stockings. Because they make me walk better. And feel like a real woman.

A genuine diamante photo frame for mum. For Easter. She's girly and giggles a lot. Especially over fake diamonds.

A pair of Red suede shoes for me. Perfect for spring. Secondhand of course but that's alright, I'm used to it. The woman in the shop kept calling me "Darling". She was ok but very old. And had hair that looked like a brassy helmet. I liked her enormously.

A brown and white apron. Because I want to be professional in my new job. Sensible women wear protection. Brazen husseys do not wear pinnys. Well not when managing a home. Maybe after hours, I don't know.

Now I must attend my rapidly roasting bird.

Banana

1. Marinate beef in cider for tonight's Scrumpy Beef Casserole. Will not take a sip of the cider though because I never ever drink before I've had me porridge.

2.. Put banana in pocket then go to pet shop for bird seed and fat balls. On coming out of the pet shop resist the urge to cross the road and walk around the playing field. Too many elderly anoraked peole with small incontinent dogs.

3. Carry on walking way down to the charity shop in Marsten Gardens where I'll no doubt be greeted by orange meringued hair Joan. She has a beige caravan and big heart. Eat banana.

4. Then into Somerfield on account of me forgetting breakfast cereals yesterday. Will huff and sigh and blink rapidly as I look at the over priced Bran Flakes. 'Outrageous' I'll mumble on my way to the till cruelly ignoring the Phil the manager's, Friday special offer.

5. Go the long way home so I can say later on today that I've had some exercise in a side street.

6. Home. For legs up and sausage sandwich.

7. Check emails, online food (have my own BBC recipe folder), and look for a very short scary story by Edgar Alan Poe. I had it once now I can't find it. Sounds familiar.

8. Tea and tea bread. Possibly a banana.

9. Marinate chicken, bananas and peppers in orange juice, lemon juice and curry paste. I love to soak things.

10. The Weakest Link with my idol Ms Anne Robinson who's double entendres are nearly as good as mine.

Here quick listen to this...
I re-arranged my employers peach angel, instead of having her lounging behind some Walt Disney DVD's I recklessly sat her between two candles on the master's mantelpiece. Then I made a a cup of tea. No wait it gets better, after plumping up his gigantic cushions I turned them over too so that their patterned bottoms sat side by side on his enormous chocolate coloured settee, he won't notice on account of him being a man. And wait listen to this, although there wasn't a decapitated mouse on the mat like last time, there were some strange items in his upstairs wastepapaper basket, I didn't look too closely you understand, but I think he and his girlfriend did a bit of dressing up the weekend. There was a large cardboard tube, one snagged black stocking, a handful of black hair and two batteries. Horrible.
Now after I did upstairs I did downstairs and that was almost as shocking, not only was there a partly unpacked suitcase in the downstairs bedroom but he'd left a good length of red rubber hospital tubing by the spices in the kitchen, he's had his arm in a sling for a couple of weeks and I suppose that accounts for the rubber. But I have to say I was shocked, it nearly put me off me next cup of tea.
I really can't natter any more because I have my own home to clean and my own baskets to empty.
Cheerio:)

Happy List

London come rain or shine
Chocolate
Buying secret gifts and hiding them in the cupboard in the sitting room
Having a very secret ten pound note in the tin by the fruit bowl
Having a five pound note in a blue pot next to my perfume
Toast and strawberry jam
Receiving good emails/parcels/kisses
Making humans feel better with my wisdom/humour/winks
Making Monty get on my shoulders
Naughtiness but only on Friday and that solely dependent on knees and Radio 4 output
Feeding pigeons in Do Not Feed Pigeons zone
Basques for dressing up only
Beer coated sausages when watching a horror film with mash
Having my photograph taken on a Monday
Christmas
Writing a good line of poetry
Chinese food in my pyjamas
Chicken curry in my socks
Feeling confident for longer than 24 hours
Hand feeding tuna to Monty on my knees
Having something to look forward to however simple
Making videos of me prancing about making a plank of myself
Steak, chips, tomato ketchup and bread and butter
Being saucy
Four Ports

Mrs Slocombe and Me? Twins Separated At Birth!

I have a giant pussy called Monty he's an oleaginous, suety, broad-in-the-beam feline and he's my baby.
But he does have his ways...

He scales my mighty kitchen cupboards just so he can clamp his furry mitts on my tiny tuna sandwiches.
His cat-like eyes watch me as my tin opener vibrates in a purposeful manner, just so as I can satisfy my late night hungers. Trembling, I can often be caught struggling with my giant fork in order to lay bits of fish in between well buttered slices of Hovis.
He never, not for one minute, takes his eyes off my crustless triangles.

On account of me being a woman with a condition, I often feel the need to be prostrate whilst eating, and last night was no exception.
As the news come on I was propped up on the settee and was just about to have a large finger roll closely followed by a nice Flake when all of a sudden Monty lunged at me best Wedgewood and sent me tuna chunks flying. And seeing as I was fagged out I thought bugger it let him lick it up.
So he did.

And I do so love to see a large male with an big appetite, because being a lady I have matriarchal tendencies, which take the form of mollycoddling and catering to everyone's whims. I also like pampering and indulging large fur balls.
And my Monty is certainly one of them.

So if you hear screams tonight emanating from a small English village just off the A127, you can rest assured it'll be only me tossing round me lounge trying to salvage bits of tuna from the jaws of my giant pussy.
Goodnight.
Now where's me opener?

Lagoons, The Moon, Icebergs and The Angel of The North

Desert Island Essentials

Camera
English Pigeons
Knife
Pen/Paper
Bombay Mix
David Davis for in depth debate


Interplanetary Expedition

Camera
Pen/Paper
Monty in a Helmet
Casio Organ to compose mind blowing music because I'll be inspired by the beauty of God's Universe.
Lace Nightgown because I'm a woman
Horlicks because I'm old and boring
Colin Brazier (Sky Newsreader) because he's intelligent...

Antarctic Trip

My Best Vest
Camera
Pen/Paper
Concealer Stick for Red Nose
Picture of Ernest Shackelton pinned to my bra
Motivational Quotes to keep me going when the seal meat runs out
Rafa Nadal because he can pull me sledge

Road Trip T'up North

The Ghost of Norman Evans (see pic above) to help me with the lingo
My Stories of Living in Doncaster to ward off possible attacks from Hard Northerners
Pen/Paper
Protective Clothing just in case of hostilities against Southern Softies
Delicate Essex/London jokes to make people warm to me
No jokes about Whippets/Coal/Flat Caps or Margaret Thatcher
David Cameron because I know he will fit right in.