No Fava Beans

In the words of Hannibal Lecter
"I'm having an old friend for lunch"

My old friend being retired constable Ken Letsbehavingyou.
Although he's always super-fit he's been under the weather lately so a full luncheon with his old sparring partner is called for, Guv.

I'm pushing the boat out with the menu...

Best Sirloin Steak with heaps of onion maramalade, garden peas and fresh plum tomatoes all nestling up against some buttery mash.
Pudding has been a real pain in the derriere. Last night's icing for the planned chocolate cake proved disastrous so plan B was put into operation. A sumptuous gooey Carrot Cake wih fail proof cream cheese icing was made this a.m.

I like feeding people.
And if I can help ease or please then I'm happy.

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

Another Fine Day

And as mum and me trotted merrily along the High Street I was thinking about the Cheltenham Festival which begins today. It was Dad's favourite horse race meeting of the year. But I soon sensibly dismissed these thoughts.
We strode into the 99p shop to stock up on essentials:

1 lilac coloured hanging basket
1 fat bag of lawn improver
1 ceramic hanging bird feeder in shades of blue and pink
1 bag of wild flower mix... all the colours of the rainbow
1 trellis which will be used to help a soon to be planted Forsythia.
500g tub of Clover

Then home via McDonalds. Mother is hooked on the little burgers.

As I type a sweetness of early evening birdsong is making the fading light more colourful...

Tonight we'll be watching footie on ITV.

Arsenal v. Bayern Munich

Sunday... Pea Gravel and a nice leg of lamb...Updated

Yesterday was frenzied. But in the nicest possible way.
After much pulling and puffing and cutting and shifting Mr Hairy Suit and Mr Horsehound laid down 24 bags of Golden Pea Gravel.
And never in the history of my garden have two men made such a difference.

It was an early start yesterday for Hairy and me (Mr Horsehound being away) and so as soon as we'd finished breakfast we shot off in Bertie the campervan to a garden centre.
The sun sat beautifully in a perfectly blue sky and I was beyond excited at the prospect of bagging some pretty gravel. A largish patch of back garden has gone to pot despite years of tender tidying, my fault. It was overgrown and smacked of severe personality disorder. It didn't know who it or what it was. Clumps of shrubs scattered here and there, bird feeders wonky, a sad apple tree, various pots in various shades of green displaying tired overgrown neglected herbs and flowers. My fault.
I always mean well but other things take over.
But I'd made my mind up to have one final bash at making something truly pretty and soulful. And Pea Gravel would be my foundation.


As Mr Horsehound wouldn't be home till afternoon Hairy and me set about making a difference.
He unloaded a few bags, can't remember how many, all that concerned me was if old timer Bertie could withstand the weight. He did of course, but a second trip to the garden centre was on the cards.

Hairy, in his usual energetic manner and vest, set about unloading the gravel and, while I made dinner (roast lamb), he proceeded to alter beyond recognition the face of my little patch of earth.

During a tea break Mr Horsehound arrived and after a man natter he and Hairy strode orf for more grit.
Coming home with not only stones but with Esther. A tall stone slightly dreamy looking garden ornament in shades of grey, black pale yellow. I liked her. She carried not only a silence about her but in her petite hands a square handbag... She was cold. So I, being in tune with even inanimate objects, felt she she needed/deserved to be centre stage so placed her beside a pot of sweet Lavender.

We worked till dusk.
Shuffling objects from here to there and back again. And all the time I was thinking how I wish I could drink in some of the ethereal qualities of my Esther. She chooses to utter not a sound standing simply yet majestically in her new home.


Over on my foodie blog I'm prattling on about Cornish Pasties.

Unfortunately mum won't be having one on account of her appetite being a bit orf. Although I think her imminent doctor's appointment is having an effect. She doesn't want to go and is dreading an argument over her drastically cut-down meds.
I'll be there though, silently, in her corner.

It's been another lovely sunny Springlike day, charity shops packed to capacity with bustling chirpy older ladies and gentlemen all eager for a natter and bargain.
I can hardly complain. I'M ONE OF THEM.
Mum though hisses her disdain...Oh dear.

I see Mary Berry has a new programme on BBC tonight. I'll be doing Mr Horsehound's tea at the time so will probably record it.
Lots of football on the telly too this week, so I'm looking forward to that:)

Now I must fly.
I have a Large Cornish Pastie Pie to assemble. Have already put together the meat and veg mix. Pastry resting. Just need to construct.

Sunlight

Urged me to don all all green outfit. Apple green skirt with similar green sleeveless top (sequinned)

Washing on the line being made to dance by the light breeze.

Mum in excellent mood. Not because of the fair weather but because she has a  whole lot of tv to view. And all her special favourites. Football. Arsenal v. Everton. Followed by two episodes of Columbo . Then as if she isn't spoilt enough...her favourite talent show...The Voice.

Mr Horsehound is out (again) off to extend  his wardrobe...

I however have prepared a Minestrone for tonight and a loaf of seeded bread. And for pud...a 12 x 9 Apple Cake complete with flaked almonds. As it's a whopper it'll do us for a few days. This is especially gorgeous with vanilla ice cream.
Recipe over on Glo's Table...........

Mr Hairy Suit has just arrived in Bertie the campervan...
And he's wearing a suit. Oh God

Ok Ok

Roy's team didn't dazzle.
But they didn't lose either.
What more can one ask for other than a victory?
A confident inspired performance perhaps?





I'm worried already.

 

Roast Beef and Footie..Wednesdays Don't Get Any Better Than This

What is happiness?

Sunshine on a day when England are playing at Wembley and I'm fortunate enough to be in receipt of a decent piece of Topside. (courtesy of Hairy Suit Esq.)
If only all days could be like this.

Mum, Hairy and myself toddled off to Rayleigh this morning. It was market day. And feeling his usual generous self Hairy treated me to some meats for the freezer. Suffice to say I won't need to buy much for the next fortnight.

On a more personal intimate level he also bought me a pair of smashing wedge heeled red shoes from Clarks..... And, as luck would have it, I just happened to notice the most glorious red shiny chain handled handbag hanging from a very high hook in the charity shop next door...... Oh boy my heart was is my mouth. I almost passed out. Luckily for me I didn't and Hairy, because he's so tall, managed to grapple it to the ground. Another brownine point for the man with enough body hair he could carpet the entire bungalow.
(I've been privvy to photos)

Mum also bought stuff.
A red shoulder bag. Magazines. Blue and white cup. Germolene.
Feeling kind of left out Hairy went mad buying up two blue checked shirts and pair of coal black trousers.
I tried to halt his expenditure but he was a man on a fashion mission. (£10)

After a wonderful stroll along the sunlit high street we jostled with the rest of 'em and found our way to the local Wimpy bar wherein two Beanburgers and three teas were consumed. Mother tutted a bit but I let it wash over me as Hairy and myself enjoyed our small luncheon.

Then home via McDonalds...Mother hankering for a proper hamburger......

Now I have to prepare our dinner.
Roast Beef and Yorkshire pudding with veggies. And for pud the final few wedges of my Carrot Cake.

THEN I'm peeling orf me pinny and settling down in front of the tv to watch England beat Denmark.
I'm hoping the Danes don't have much Viking blood left swishing though their veins. Otherwise we could be in for a thorough slaughtering.

An old time Danish soldier

A modern British soldier taking time out to sit with a much loved friend

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunny and the mop appears

Always the same.
As soon as sunlight brightens the bungalow I'm pushing my mop around.
Quickly too.
On account of having a full shedule today.
As we waited for the nurse to arrive mum and me had talks over cups of over-brewed tea. Oooops. Recently I've been slipping up on the culinary front and drinking very dark tea is yet another sign I'm feeling the full weight of doing too much. Idiot.

I'm in the market for a sack of potatoes so I'm hoping that after a quick burger Mr Hairy Suit will drive mum and me to the local farm shop to stock up on Maris Pipers. There's something about sacks of spuds that brings out the earth mother in me. I think it's the scraping off of inches of cloddy mud that does it. Too many veggies nowaday are sold cleaned and sanitised. I half expect to see my face in a polished leek. I much prefer dirty veg.
Another essential, from a different shop,  is a  large plastic storage container to hold my bed linen. Mum's stuff has kinda taken precedence over my sheets and pillow cases, so........ large clear boxes are required.

Talking of Rulers...
I can't wait to see what team Mr Hodgson wheels out tomorrow night against likeable lively Denmark. I can't get into the head of this man all I can do is hope and pray that he chooses the right bunch of lads. Because if we get hammered be it 1-0 or 3-2, the fans will be ill. Me included.
And God only knows what the jolly press will...Hodgo must Go oh.


At any rate I'll be watching. And I'm proud and bit scared to admit that I've never missed an England international.
So enamoured am I with World footie and footie in general that I have two small England footballs swinging from my rear view mirror.
Brave or Foolish?
Who cares?
Despite numerous England versus whoever heart stopping matches............. it's still a beautiful game.