Wolf Hall v. Harry Hill

Recently became converted to historical novels so the new BBC drama Wolf Hall had me all excited. Being also a fan of Harry Hill I had looked forward to his new tv show Stars in Their Eyes.
Loved one, didn't quite get the other. 

Wolf Hall was mesmerizing, all candlelight, bloodshed and brilliant performances.
Harry Hill left me wondering.
His commentaries on You've Been Framed are the best, silly, sometimes near the bone, just hilarious. Well worth rushing through your pizza for.

And although I enjoyed Wolf Hall I was put off, nay puzzled, by the leaping about from 'present' day say 1592 to the long ago say 1583, but, as it's a BBC production with a bag of top notch actors, I'll give it another go.
Harry Hills Stars though etc will have to try harder.

It's not that I don't do zany, I do, I loved Milligan, Hill and Bernie Winters (!) and to date I've loved Harry but this queer mix of talent show meets comic capers leaves me baffled.

But as with Wolf I'll give Harry another chance. But not this Saturday because this Saturday I'm going to a Vintage/Retro Disco at the church hall in aid of a local lad who's unwell. It's been arranged by a gang of vintage car/rock and roll enthusiasts who have reassuringly declared it won't be essential to go the whole hog and dress like a Teddy Boy/Girl. Thank God for that. I'll be wearing a pair of Oxfords bags, sparkling shoes and velveteen blouse.
Rock and Roll my hat!


A not-too-hard-up plumber is coming soooon to quote a price for fitting my new once in a blue moon priced fantastic priced basic bathroom. He must be doing well because I'm still waiting..............................................................................................................................................................................
So I will get on with tonight's dinner.
Chicken thighs on a pillow of cabbage.

I'll be concentrating on my food blog this year...

Happy New Year All 

x

OMG. This is NOT a poem

I am so old
the mirror's reflection told me so
en embryo of a turkey neck
OMG I am so old
Is my right breast leaning to the left

I think lots of coffin thoughts

Simpering in bed at midday
wishing my husband was someone else
like the Hero in the murder novel
like the Man of My Dreams
I'm rather dry in the thighs
OMG I am so old
Can I afford a brace for straighter teeth

I'm talking to dead people

I need good cash to stash in the pretty biscuit tin by the peas
But work would kill me
I wouldn't last a day
impure thoughts would cast shadows as I oggled my my line manager (whatever that is)
OMG I am so old
Frozen Chocolate Penises defrosting under the bed

I'm having trouble deciding on Milk White or Dark chocolate. 


My future is coming fast
I can get in cheaper at the bowling alley because I'm 55+
BUT on reading that, albeit with some difficulty, I laughed
Young carnivores in the burger bar made Spicy Bean Burger scoffing me want to vomit
Where has my love of cow meat gone
OMG I am so old
I knock on God's door more for professional guidance
He's always out,
But to be fair I am receiving subliminal messages mainly through tv adverts.

Throaty laughs are being interspersed with giggles ( and I have always hated giggling women who think that by making teenage girl noises they are somehow more desireable to men. Yeah right)
I have though had such fun.


I'm using more E45 cream and less lipstick.
Being thought of as an overblown overly dry and over painted middle-aged woman really scares me.
OMG the thought of morphing into my great Aunt Edie sobers me up no end.
It was rumoured that her sudden glamourisation ( beaded berets, diamond rings and a holiday chalet in Skegness) was down to the sickening fact that she'd 'allowed' great Uncle Bob to pass away in the middle of the night instead of dashing for the doctor and by so doing bag the contents of his fat bank account.
LOL!
As if I could


I spend too much time smiling on account of it taking more muscles to frown than to grin.
Resulting in approval from folk but deep lines in the cheek area
Oh bugger.
I soothe myself by knowing absolutely that what I lose on the physical front I gain in the brain.
I'm swallowing Edward Marston novels like they're sugared almonds (which my the way have made their way into my handbag, a sign surely of approaching vaginal dryness)


With physical deterioration has come a little wisdom
and playfulness.
OMG I'm approaching 59 and I'm kinda not scared.
As many doors close, many are opened
As more sleep is needed, more beauty I attaineth
As natural anxiety about love and the future attend my every day
I seize it.


OMG I like life!

No Surprise

As you'd expect Christmas for me this year will be a mix of smiles and tears.

Smiles because I love baubles, candles and the fact that I've forgiven my next door neighbour for being an utter pain in the neck. A lot of strength comes from being magnanimous.
Tears will no doubt ruin my eye make-up as thoughts of mum accompany my festive preparations.And as her face appears in the steam on the kitchen window and her voice soothes as I peel yet another potato I will say "Merry Christmas, you old silly" and drop the spud in the pan.


This year's economically sound gift buying trips have been good but each one tainted by the fact that I didn't buy mum anything. Ouch!.Last year I bought her a wedding ring on account of the loss of her original ring (she was very upset about that) . 
This year the only losing going on was her losing her pain then me losing her.

But as I decorated the front room with coloured candles and a basket of tangerines  I talked to mum. I said I missed her and that I hoped she was ok.



This morning I'm off to see Hairy's Mum, the tiny feisty Viola. I've made up a small hamper for her and hubby, Trevor. It's stocked with chutney, cheeses, homemade cake and sugar free strawberry drops. (Vi being diabetic, but not a wholehearted one). Trevor will have what's left...

And that's what Christmas is about...Love. And inappropriate gifts!


Merry Christmas All.
Love
Angela x

I only went out for some beansproutss

But as the Co-Op is next door to the charity shop I thought I might as well pop in...
And as I stood at the till, cash in hand, I'd found a bamboo steamer and fountain pen, one of the volunteer ladies came up to me.
"Haven't seen your mum for ages. How is she?"
After quietly telling her she tapped my arm saying "It'll be alright love"

In the next charity shop Judy (72) said much the same thing. Her comforting words though interspersed with how, after losing her mum of 92 she still felt the loss even though it was several years ago.
"You never quite get over it" she said
Fighting to halt our tears we stood solemnly by the glassware, gazing at each other both missing our mums.


I managed to get the beansprouts and would have loved telling mum about the Chinese meal I'll be cooking Saturday.. She would of course bah-humbugged the idea preferring, of course, a nice bit of cod.

After a brief break with Mr Hairy Suit in a restored railway carriage on Coppins farm in the village of Alphamstone, I've thrown myself into decorating the bungalow with all things festive.
And after putting some parsnip soup in the slow cooker, I painted the doorstep ox blood red.

The front room has had a thorough make-over by moving furniture around from here to there and back again (!) and icing the dining table and mantelpiece with Christmas baubles and copious amounts of candles.

My new 'secondhand' walnut dresser looks glorious, it's glass shelves holding all my Agatha Christie books and on the cupboard a few of my favourite poetry and quote books. Last week I discovered a new author, Edward Marston. I've almost finished "The Excursion Train" a thriller set on a train in Victorian England. And yesterday, after I'd seen the dentist ( a mere filling)  I picked up two more of Marston's books in Oxfam.
 "The Silver Locomotive Mystery" and "Blood on the Line".
All featuring the formidable Detective Inspector Robert Colbeck and his sidekick the heavyset Sergeant Victor Leeming. There aren't many books which keep me turning pages but "The Excursion Train" certainly does. I love it.

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