I'm Not A Horse But...

I keep thinking about Spring.
So as I make my way up to London I'll be searching the verges, hedges and even cracks in the pavements for signs of young green life.
I'm hoping to see a much improved mum whose blue eyes look bluer and whose legs are ready for a trip around the shops. I dare say a microwaved curry will be generously flung in my direction but you know what, I won't mind at all. Mum could stick my head in a horsebag and I'd be happy.

Pigeon Post

Monty is watching two swinging grey pigeons
With each gentle gust of wind, they fall and rise on the branch.
Monty's head is low, his breathing rapid and with each dip of the branch, the cat's head steadies. Rock still, the spoilt predator ponders.
I wonder what he'd do if one got in the conservatory?
Pierce them probably.

Poem: DUSTY MIRROR

Dusty mirror what do you feel?
Slow foaming heartbeats of decaying blood
or
a frenzied fuck gilded happiness

Dusty mirror what do you see?
Sloping sour pale unbitten breasts
or
red, plate sized tits, chewed and spread

Dusty mirror what do you want?
A tangled strangled continuance
or
a life.


Angela Norris

Pre-Sausage Nonsense

After my earlier rant (now deleted on account of feeling much better) I've made a rather deelish cup of coffee. And as I walked away from the kettle Monty grabbed my sleeve saying "Oy you pay attention to me or I'll scratch your varicose veins". Isn't he a love? The no-good toe rag will now undoubtedly follow me from the office into the front room where, on propping myself up with numerous cushions, I'll check the news. This news fixation comes from my parents telling me at a very young age that I should know what's going on in the world. They meant well.

Before I forget, I've found a couple of interesting recipes to try. One is for Apple and Cinnamon Scones, the other, for a Chocolate Fondue! I'm quite excited by the thought of that one. Wonder what I can dip into it? Any ideas?

On the menu today:
I'm on my own, so not much, just the ubiquitous sausage sandwich and one or two of the smashing Bakewell Maids I made yesterday. Will then resist the urge to eat half a packet of Starbursts on account of two things. 1. Sweets are for kids and 2. They might get stuck in me gaps.
Thank you very much I've had my say.

Panless Day

I don't have a pan for my pancakes...

I've got several frying pans but not one of them is small enough to hold the perfect pancake. So....I WON'T MAKE ANY!
But I will.
Probably at the weekend. Because by then I will have bought a six or seven inch pan.
Doesn't seem right somehow, it's Shrove Tuesday and I'm on my own. Well Monty is here of course but he doesn't give a flying fig about batter type things. Just as long as he can smear Nautical Fish all over his whiskers, he'll be fine.

When I return from a short shopping trip I'll be baking some miniature Bakewell Tarts, otherwise known as 3 inch Bakewell Maids. Something rather gooey and fairytaleish about dinky pastries. All I need now is my Prince. But that's soppy girls stuff and I'm a serious woman. Mostly.

Small General Thoughts:

Watched yet another Morgan Freeman film last night. 'Along Came A Spider'. I was in bed again but without the fish. This time the only scales in sight were right by the long mirror. They're not used much, because I scare easily...

The Lamb Couscous was fabulous. Tender chops braised in a coriander, ginger and cumin sauce. I over did it on the apricots though, they looked like oranges spaceships floating in a spicy universe. Tasted good though. The couscous was buttery and plentiful.

Silly people have complained to the BBC about children's presenter, Cerri Burnell. Cerri has one arm and irate over-sensitive mums and dads have said she 'scares' their kids. What a load of rubbish.

I've gone right off Minced Beef.

I think my ears are getting longer.

Sunless Monday Grrrrr!

The sun is sulking and hiding behind the clouds, stupid behaviour when you consider most people like him. He should be out there dominating the sky making us little people squint with his brilliance. Stupid.
Penned in my diary for today:
Stomping about doing womanly things.
On the menu today:
Lamb Couscous. Small lamb chops with a very warmly spiced and heavily apricoted couscous. For pud, something with eggs because I've got loads of the blighters, highly likely I'll make a Creme Caramel, if I start now, it should be ready by seven.

General thoughts on this grey sunless day:
Had my hair cut Saturday tea time. And as my hair floated to the mat Lisa and I talked about: Discos, tax evasion, toasted cheese sandwiches and wrinkles. She's got a funny voice but she charges little.
Watched American Idol. Two of my favourites are in the final 12. Alexis Grace, 21 year old who sings like a forty year old. Blonde hair with splashes of cyclamen and a slight bump in her nose. A good singer with oodles of the likeability factor. Danny Covey, can't remember his age. But his voice is like he has something in his mouth apart from his tongue. Lovely.
Watched History of Christianity last night eating a Fish Melt. Apt I thought. Only I don't expect Jesus had much to do with Mozzarella cheese.
Wore a red faux snakeskin skirt whilst rubbing cream into my knees and fantasising about foursomes. A queer activity but harmless.

Today's Love Quote made me smirk.
I could have told that Euripedes bloke that Love is for teens, oldies and dogs with bandages. Love is an arse.

I've just fed the birds with a great big sun in my eyes. My knee is normal. The photo was taken on Tuesday. Spring is on her way.