Today In Briefs.

~ In Sainsburys motorized chair got hooked on cardboard box selling  reduced socks. No major damage. Just sniggles from me. Would love to have brought it down...Who me?

~ Pork joint chosen after serious consideration. Could have gone down the beef route but fancied some crackling tonight...

~ The price of rhubarb is horrendous so plumped for a few Bramleys. Will make a cake and apple dumplings. Dumplings dumplings dumplings. Either firm wrapped around an apple or squashy sitting on top of a stew. Any way will do. Love them.


~ Three bags of bread flour. Nothing shop bought compares but one does need to be sensible about these things so into the trolley went a large Hovis. Other baked goods bought were finger rolls reminded me of arthritic fingers. Nice and comfy though for Saturday's franks.

~ Anzak biscuits for Hairy Suit. A little list was dropped into my hand on it...Biscuits. Balm Tissues for his sore conk and mini pepperamis.

~ Camp for drinking and cooking. Dates for cakes and nibbling. Bananas for breakfasts and caramel ice cream boats.

~ Cinnamon disinfectant.




Cooking tonight....Roast Stuffed Pork, peas, jacket potatoes, gravy and apple sauce. Rice pudding and blackcurrant jam with crushed oaty biscuits.

Out and around again today...this time to Rochford  market where I bought some plastic wrapped dates, a pair of men's gloves and a lace bedspread (single). £2
It was the usual thing...
Cold hands and forced laughs.
Mum grumpy. Mr H. stoic and myself lost in mum's world of frequently altered medication, chronic constipation and requests for straw coffins. Mum, you see, is going through a sad painful phase, inhabiting a lonely morbid place where dreams of dad come frequently and hopes of returning to London fading..

I am rung dry.
I've discovered for the umpteenth time that my extensive vocabulary in the rousing the morale area is running out of gas and so I stumble over my words. I get headaches too.
But I bought the bedspread so my capacity for pleasure still thrives.

Later that day.................I drove my good friend the ever so man-in-black Hairy Suit back to his very own abode wherein we played with junior Hairy the12 year old whose capacity for ham sandwiches is very funny.
We didn't play darts or snooker...no not at all. We were an audience for the boy's remarkable acting talent. A natural born mimic. His observational powers, awesome. Made my feeble attempts at showing orf look rather pathetic, but then I'm an old drama queen, and he, just steps away from being a celebrity.
Oh Boy can the lad hold an audience!

And so after a bit of dancing and doing as I was told I hugged the little one then.............

Back home in 'my' Rosie,........... zoomed along did Mr Hairy and I, along dark roads chuffed full of tea time traffic back to the bungalow where a pork and vegetable tea needed to be cooked.
And after a silently eaten meal we decanted warily into the drawing room to watch an Eddie Izzard tape...
He is brilliant so said Hairy, Mr H and myself, mother on the other hand spat sickness fueled vitriol at the dazzling comic.
And that's how life is for me at the moment.
Egg shells are the new carpet.

And so another week ends........
It was a good one in a lot of ways. .I got to play Nurse Horsehound for the ever so bunged up Hairy Suit. The poor darling. Also having my hands laid lightly upon them the ever so grouchy mummy. What I wouldn't give to see her smile now and again. Mind you she's never been one for flashing her teeth nor being hypocritical. No happy, no smile.
Mr Hairy on the other hand puts on the bravest of fronts even though he's bearing a lot of emotional and physical weights. So this week I've gone that extra mile for my good friend. Regarding mum I've been a small sponge for all her unwarranted upsetting outbursts.

As for Mr Horsehound..............he manages to keep his halo set firmly around his head, not by any god or man but by being a remarkable human being/husband/mate with unending perseverance and patience. He plays the long game.
How he does is it is far beyond my limited understanding because at times I can be loathesome.

Tonight's X Factor was predictable. Another noisy flash affair with only one winner. The wonderful James Arthur. I have to say I wasn't committed to him but grew to like him so when Dermot called his name I wasn't too upset. I would loved to have seen young Jahmene crowned but as with all humble troubled people he shone in defeat. Old soul man in young body.

I drove 'my' Rosie tonight. A smart MG convertible, no hiccups not even when changing gears although I did get a bit of a shake-on when roaring over 50mph on the way home...Mr Hairy loved it! Despite my protestations earlier in the day I drove that beautiful car here and there loving every terror filled moment. 
I flew like a pretty crimson bird, wings wide and steady keeping me straight, sublime.

Now I must fly again...Not along dual carriage ways or unlit lanes but to bed where hopefully sleep comes a-quickly...Like a good kiss.

 

Mum is Motorized

..........First of all a brief synopsis of events so far....


Shopping with mum and Mr Horsehound in wet and cold Southend.
Many items bought.
Mum took a few novels from Smiths. All murderous in content. Asked if I wanted any cook books. 'No' I answered with a bag full of Sainsburys biscuits and Lurpak butter hanging orf me arm. I'd done the sensible thing you see and left mother in Mr H's capable hands while I did a zippy quick shop at my favourite store...

Then out into a pretty brutal high street where lots of un-hatted people struggled with umbrellas, kids and mobiles.

We went to Oxfam where mum added an orange suede bag to the basket and where I kept me cash in purse...

This was getting weird. No purchases. Not even a notebook or packet of sweets.

Then into my building society for a business transaction, where, by the door, a book laden table stood..And for a donation of £1 to Cancer Research I bought a copy of 'PAUPERS AND PIG KILLERS' THE DIARY OF WILLIAM HOLLAND. A SOMERSET PARSON 1799-1818.

Then a mercy mission to Boots the chemist for the ever so bad patient Mr Hairy Suit. His shopping list was brief. Decongestant and Excite Body Wash.

Mum let rip at me today, no surprise there but oh it does leave a ghastly bleeding wound. But after a cooling off period in the kitchen where I did what I always do when hurt; sit voiceless, I made her some tea and watched the snooker.

As I type Mr H and Mr Hairy are attaching an expensive 'MOTOR' to mum's wheelchair..

God knows what fun we'll have next week:)

................Wheeling mum around Sainsburys was great. After all... this time last week she was tubed up in hospital being told by doctors that in the event of a cardiac arrest she wouldn't be resuscitated so shopping for chops was fantastic. For her. And me. Because although I'm ageing and generally losing the plot deep down inside the very rich fibre of my being I can't help feeling a sense of achievement at keeping mother alive for soooo long.
I digress.


As we eased our way around passing veg and tins and meats I remembered how very empty my decanter was, which, by the way,  came a cropper last night on account of two men inserting mum's 'new' power assisted armchair into the middle of me drawing room......... anyway...... the pretty decanter went flying! So I thought about it, the decanter that is, and seeing as Christmas will soon be upon us  I thought a big green bottle of Stone's would help me sing.
Then to the in-store chemist where I had a discreet word with Mr Ashibungawang the pharmacist regarding large coverings for mum's intimate irritations.
And then with personal products in bag we toddled to the till where a very ebullient Barbie (55+)waved our stuff over the scanner while talking screechingly cheerily about a lot.  But that was ok because I like Barbie's enthusiasm for life (born again Christian) and her penchant for ruby red lipstick.

Mum needed a rest after Sainsbury' and got it, I needed a rest too and kind of got it.....I'd just tcuked mother in when the doorbell twanged and the ever so incredible Hairy Suit slithered over me dirty doormat carrying a bouquet of orange blooms and 5 jumbo doughnuts.

As mum doesn't want proper food tonight I'm heating up one crumbed chicken breast.
For myself...not a lot, preferring instead to graze on cheese and ginger wine.
Footie on tv tonight so not a big plate of food for the late returning Mr H.
Other crumbed breast probably

..........Before I start making a Chocolate and Vanilla Swirl Cake I must have a word...

Last night's home made Chinese was yummily different on account of an ample amount of celery thrown in at the last moment.
'Twas good on another level too because our house guest the ever so assertive Mr Hairy Suit arrived  on time his pockets bulging with Prawn Toasts and Wontons. These made a  lovely addition to the table.

In fact HE made a lovely addition aswell.

Anyway.......We ate well, the boys especially, mum dived in too only her fork was picking up Penne Cheese as opposed to Macaroni Cheese. I'd made amples of course more than any one person could eat so leftovers were bagged up and taken to work by the ever so agreeable HS.
Back to the Chinese...I slowly scooped mine up with jolly plastic chopsticks not because I wanted or needed to impress but because I eat slowly anyway and twiddling around with sticks aids non-indigestion. You can't wallop it down you see.

Then The X Factor where James Arthur totally convinced me that he could sing anything. Outstanding.
Union J. Love the gay guy's voice. Powerful yet smooth, rather like a pint of ginger wine.
Maloney was stitched up by Barlow because Barlow knew Maloney couldn't do justice do a Buble song. It was pure murder. Especially the final money note. Ugh!
And finally, At Last, Jahmene Douglas, singing the Etta James song better than Etta James and she sang it like she was born singing it. But Jahmene, with his issues and all, gave birth, right there, right then, on stage, in front of millions of people, to a glossy rich career where he'll sing out his damaged soul. My only hope...is that  he keeps a fragment of it...


Roasting a small chicken today and to go with the bird some sweet parsnips, peas and mashed potato. Pudding will be a canned affair. Pears probably.


Now I must get baking a Chocolate and Vanilla Swirl Cake.:)

Cheerio

Is it the Christmas lights I saw late last night on the drive to the station that finally put sparkles into my life or is it something more? Like Love?
A little of both.

After mum's release from hospital we made a deal that from now on she'd do the decent thing and let me go to bed early and in return I'd do everything for her. We've done the deal because we love each other and because we love each other we have to compromise.
And so this morning as we drunk tea together we touched hands in a 'knowing' way.
I know this might be her last Christmas, she knows too. She's also well aware that life is sometimes awful  for me/her what with pills and mess and eating less so she advised me this morning to do everything I want. Cooking. Entertaining. I agreed because if I continue to neglect my hobbies I'll go bonkers. My god-like friend Mr Hairy Suit said he couldn't remember the last time I'd made a loaf of bread. "Neither can I" I said as we sat in my kitchen with it's eclectic mix of styles. Eclectic? Maybe a kind way of saying I can't decide about anything. At any rate I can't remember when I last pounded some dough.

Today I'll lose self by making Nusskuchen, a foreign cake made with hazelnuts, apples, coffee and chocolate. And after our tea of sweet and sour chicken I'll serve thin slices of Nusskuchen on blue plates with whipped cream on the side.



I'll also bake some bread:)


Can't wait to see The X Factor...
Can't wait to watch some Snooker...
Can't wait to bake.