Words on my mind. too biz for explanashuns.

Footie.
Tonight.
Us and Holland.
At Wembley. Where I grew up. Blahblah. Where I lived in a spaceship from race 2 to race 8. Kids eh?

Pearcey. Psycho. Blond. Getting on a bit. Brother of man of questionable views.
Keeping silent over Top Job.
Clever.

"The Special One"
Back in Blighty.
For why?
House hunting and all.
Mmmmm There's a Foreigner in the mix what am I gonna do?

My hair looking so spectacular in Sainsbury's a man said something.

Feeling fresh and fruity.... a big bottle of lemon scented floor cleaner awaits usage. It's the daffs wot made me buy it.

More on the domestic front...
On account of the ageing process (not mine) have to ditch braising steak in favour of hard boiled eggs.
Me no want to get old:(

So. Later on. Tonight.
Pearcey to take the strain.
England team with its managerial nightmare fiasco debacle thing will step out onto Holy Ground to play little Holland. I don't think I can take anymore...
And talking of strainers, a quaint little silver one holding within its jaws 2 tsps. of very loose tea, made just about the most perfect cuppa I've ever wallopped.
Thanks Sweetie.

Now I do stuff with only one thing on my mind...

The National Anthem Being Played At Wembley.
God, I can't wait.
:)

Spring continues to tease.

Had a quick tidy up in garden, boxes thrown away, watering of veg, refilling bird feeders that sort of thing. And as I stopped by dad's ashes a ladybird sat on his head. Loved that. Feeling in no way idiotic or sentimental I had a few words...Told him all was ok with mum, her foot bandage now deposited in the bin and her legs glossed by lots of E45. I don't know who was most happy, him or me. Me probably after all I'm on the front line.

Anyway after all that I did some washing, strenuous work on account of being machineless, but like a 1930's London housewife I tossed some sheets in hot water then swung them on the line to dry. A beautiful drying day by the way.

Mum popped out to see it suggesting I take it to the laundry...Ashingdon don't do laundrys dear I said, everyone and his uncle has a washing machine, it's only dinosaurettes like me who applaud the Victorian way of doing things.
Nutter.

So a natter with mum in the kitchen over tea and homemade bread and diabetic jam (not bad) She rarely comes up with anything life enhancing or amusing but as old invalids go she's not a bad thing to have in-house.

As the birds sang we exchanged menu ideas for the rest of this week and beyond..... Yes of course we did...I informed her that I buy I cook and she agreed. End of. One thing I will not do is be told what to do with chops. Any chops. So for today it's pork, lamb later in the week.

Lots of things to look forward to:

Good film this afternoon. Based on true case. The Staircase Murders.


Sainsbury's tomorrow. Must take a handbag to give to my favourite cashier, Veronica, she's a bag lady too!
and
England v. Holland.
I'm smiling just thinking about it :)
Food info in tomorrow's post!

Cheerio!

Blub

Purple. Black and white. Gold. Burnt Umber. Crimson Red. pink.
I looked liked a sweet lady mosaic gone barmy as I bought diabetic blackcurrant jam.
Weather holding up nicely though.

Cooking wise I'm making a beef and veg pie, more bread and a simples Yorkshire Tea Bread with glace cherries thrown in (Ran out of sultanas).

I see that Sasha bloke caused a stir on the Hollywood red carpet last night. Imagine Ryan Seacucumber getting splashed with make believe dead ashes. Nigh on turns me stomach. I expect it took him a hour to brush off the Brits humour. Twonk. Bless. Stole the show and all that.
Loved Ms Streep's, frock. Looked lovely but reminded me of Gold Leaf.
Anyway.....I suppose she feels alright this morning as would Angelina Jolie, massive media coverage.....pose of the century or what!!! Gorgeous woman.
And the *Gwynnie went to some actress who sobbed a lot making all the right sounds... but cleverly not a tear did fall. Soppy.
When I cry my eyes get filled with stingingly bitter mascara and all hell breaks loose on the cheek front. When actors sob nothing runs.
If I were an actress and won a prize I'd simply accept with grace, smile, thank like everyone who ever knew me, pause, smile, look stunned, pause again, milk it to death then walk away quietly...
You'd never see me sobbing in public. Although there was this time once when overcome with alcoholic snowballs I did drop a tear.

Talking about balls and drops...I see there's a new series coming on ITV1 about the Titanic. Will either be a spectacular televisual feast or rot. Films about the stricken liner are a plenty so I'm hoping for something more, other than the captain and failures on the communication front....and icebergs. Please entertain me ITV. More depth maybe...
On a hopeful note....Stars Ken Barlows's son, Linus Roache who I have to say knocks spots of daddy in the looks dept;. And definitely on the acting front. Never rated Bill Roache, a wooden actor who has never left me wanting more, only plus is his immaculate hair.
After all is said and done I will defo give it a go.


Signing off now.
My ear hurts so I'm going to make a beef sandwich.

*Award winners who blub excessively

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.

Carling Cup Final and A Roast. Sunday's Don't Come Any Fitter Than This

Come on Glo..Up ya come!

NO! Petite fan being difficult!

Ankle and Calf. No problems. Parking...Yes!

Dalglish HAS to play Luis Suarez...

Carroll will probably dirty his boots.AND his long long hair. Swoon...

Lucas. Out. Knee probs.

Meanwhile Cardiff manager Malky Mackay has headaches too.
His captain, Mark Hudson, is dealing with farm problems. I.E. Trouble with calf.

Likewise his reserve Goalie, Tom Heaton, who did SO well against Crystal Palace, is struggling with a bruised ankle. Caused by a knock. Probably against the aforementioned Palace. Number one Goalie, Dave Marshall had better watch his back. My bet is Heaton will miraculously recover...


So...
Nothing quite makes a Sunday like Roast Beef and a kickabout.

My prediction:

Cardiff 2 Liverpool 2
or
Cardiff 1 Liverpool 1
or
Cardiff 1 Liverpool 2 or 3

French films and Farmhouse bread

I baked this Farmhouse beauty late last night, and, after letting it cool, wrapped it in foil leaving it solitary on the kitchen table.

And so to this morning...
We had a couple of thick slices....and realized that nothing beats homemade bread... The supermarket shelves can't hold a candle to it.

And so for today's treat..
Home made Irish Soda Rolls with additional poppy and sesame seeds. These will hold home made hamburgers and home made onion marmalade.
So simple yet so good.

Went out this morning and bought a few old bits:

The Magic Cottage by James Herbert. 50p
A lilac Georgette scarf. 50p
A lilac and mauve 1960's whirly psychedelic style patterned jumper with sequins dotted across the chest. £1:25
A satin cobalt blue blouse for mum. £1:25
A pair of dangly peach coloured earrings. Faux pearl. 25p
A Victoriana style cushion in shades of pale green, lemon and sage green. 75p
Three books for mum. Two Agatha Christie and one about Coronation Street. £1

And from Sainsbury's:
Hair stuff. Specialist Shampoo, conditioner and hair spray for women with silver locks who want them to remain that way.
Smoked Salmon. For mum's fish fetish.
Stockings. For me.

I'm off now to enjoy a chocolate biscuit or two whilst watching 'A Prophet' (2009) a French film with subtitles about a young Arab man who goes to prison and rises to become a top Mafia man.

Sounds fab!

Being Cooked Today

A creamy Fish Pie. Cod. Only. Tried to tempt mum with the hard boiled egg extra but she declined. Cod looks good, firm fleshed and pure white. Parsley from the pot outside to give extra flavour and a bit o' colour. Also a smidgen of nutmeg in the sauce. Mashed potato with butter will be the naughty roof.
and, for pud...Chocolate puddings
Two small pert ones for Mr H and me. Mum blobbing again with her pointless sugar free raspberry jelly.

Talking of jellies...made earlier...a fruit cocktail orange jelly. Simply drain a large can of F.C. make up the jelly in the usual way but dispense with some of the water using instead the juice from the can.
Then tip the fruit into a glass dish and after pinching one or two bits of grape pour over the jelly. Don't add pineapple or kiwi to any jelly if you do it won't set.

Another delightful day weatherwise. Sun shining down upon the pavements and a cool breeze gently sweeping roundabout the houses.
Been sighing as I turn the pages of my newest cook book (Mary Berry) even the District Nurse was impressed, herself too a keen chefette.
By the way mums scalded foot almost new again...
Scab fell off, probably in the carpet somewhere.

Now tea, oatcakes and horror film:)