… don’t ask!!

Part experiment, part greed – I ate one chocolate biscuit yesterday. I’ve been as wheat-free as physically possible for the last 14 months – but at the back of my mind there has been this nagging doubt – what if I can actually tolerate wheat and I’ve been eating this expensive bloody awful bread for nothing?

I have answered that question. I won’t be having any more biscuits.

...confused!

I have to write an essay about a reading in one of my course books. The main problem with this is I am having great difficulty understanding the reading. To me, it is like being presented with a rather exquisite, expensive knitted scarf! The object seems to be to finely examine the scarf, looking for dropped stitches, bad joins and other possible mistakes. However, because this scarf has been knitted by a professional, I don’t expect to find any holes – and if I did spot one, I would assume it was meant to be there!

We are expected to unpick the scarf, stitch by stitch, row by row – then use it to reconstruct it in a different form. Now I am sure some clever people will at some point during this process have a nice firm ball of ideas, they will seek out other balls of wool of different colours and textures, and weave this into their work, and they will transform their scarf into – oh I don’t know – a pair of magnificent gloves.

Me? Well I’ve looked and looked at the scarf several times and all I can come up with is: “Oh! It’s a scarf!” As I clumsily attempt to unpick the words I find myself with a seemingly infinite ravel of knots and tangles and general wooliness.

I predict one of two things: At some point during the next week or so I will cut up my tangled rubbish, remove all the knots and throw them in the bin (these will prove to be all the vital, salient points), then I will tie up what’s left in all the wrong order, and I will end up with a wonky tea-cosy – OR – I will make it into a giant pom-pom, where my main point is hidden deep within a mass of general fluffiness. Either way, I pity my poor tutor!

Why do I put myself through this torture??

Right! Diversion over… back to reading about sodding metaphors.

Celebrating my birthday...

I've had a nice weekend - I wasn't really looking forward to my birthday being on a Saturday, but if anything, it was better because I still felt quite "birthdayish" today as well. The card count so far is 29 - which is quite impressive for me. I didn't used to get that many - and it is possible I might get another one tomorrow - unless my brother is ignoring me this year!!

I read in the paper (and there was a notice in the local garden centre as well) that this week is National Rabbit Week. I do hope Bosie doesn't feel neglected. He does get a lot of human contact and he has got a Guinea pig friend, and he has a lovely clean (big) hutch, and he gets fresh food every day. He came for a run round this morning and I took this photo of him. I think if there was ever a "cute photo" contest - this would have to be my entry!!



I've just put my swan photo up in the lounge. I think it looks OK - it is strange to think I took that photo a week ago - and there it is hanging on the wall. It doesn't look as blue as it does on screen. I've also framed a somewhat inbred looking family photo. The husband and wife in the photo do look related to each other. All very worrying - glad it isn't MY family. I need to find out more about the people in the photo - names would be a good start.

One of my birthday presents was some vouchers to get my hair cut at a decent hairdressers in town, so hopefully in the next couple of weeks I can find the time to get my hair sorted out. Trouble is, I've seen a hairstyle I like very much, but the person the hair belongs to is a right slapper in Eastenders (Kevin's ex-wife, Shirley mother of Deano and Carly) - she wears ridiculously tarty clothes for her age, and even though there is a photo in the TV mag this week, I don't think I can take it in and say "This is what I want to look like!" I need to find a nice person with similar hair if possible.

Also I am a bit loathe to carry that photo around with me - firstly because it will look a bit dodgy if I have an accident and someone has to go through my belongings! (You can imagine the nurses, can't you, "And she had this picture of that tarty woman from Eastenders"). Secondly because my mum went through a phase of finding the ideal hair style photo, cutting it out and keeping it in her bag to show the hairdresser. Nothing wrong with that is there, except all these people that she kept a photo of for this purpose suffered a hideous premature death, or dreadful tragedy. What if I have inherited that power? (Quite tempting to carry a photo of Bill Oddie just in case.)

Went out for lunch today, one of those all you can eat for just over a fiver. One of the choices was either baby squid or possibly octopus - I am not sure which. I did take one, and sat it on my plate - but when it came to it, I couldn't eat it. One of the problems with it was it was whole, and it had developed a personality by the time I'd sat down. It also looked like a plastic toy, and I felt terribly sorry for it - poor little thing. I think it was possibly quite rubbery as well and I decided better to leave it than risk throwing up all over the place! It was most odd. I'd be no good doing a bush tucker trial. There was a weird dish of black shells as well - possibly they were mussels. YUCK!!!


The octopus thing looked like this - although it may not have had a face.

Hopefully it will be "National Octopus Week" soon, and we will leave them in the sea where they belong!

Nostalgic...

Not a rant (for a change) just a couple of old photos...

This one proves that many years ago I did actually have thin legs! (Interesting that I currently have equally crappy hair!)


Always loved a man in a uniform!!


Currently the wallpaper on my phone - Bobble the Owl - cute, isn't he?

Doing it myself!

You know it’s going to be a bad day when you are woken up at some ridiculously early hour to help find more bricks. At 6.30 am your brain isn’t in gear enough to wonder why! You stumble out of bed, bleary eyed. It’s only really when the gale force winds and icy rain hits you in the face you think “What the hell am I doing?!!”

This was my rude awakening this morning! The husband decided he needed more than one brick up against the kitchen window to prevent the glass from falling out. For about the last 8 years or so – probably more – the window frame has been rotting away. He has been patching it up with (indoor) Polyfilla – which is about as much use as using an ice cube to irrigate the Sahara…

Last week I noticed that it had got much worse - bits of rotten wood were falling off. The recent windiness hasn’t helped, and when he opened the back door to go to work the glass came completely detached all along the bottom and part of the sides – thank goodness the top bit stayed in! Hence his experiment with the brick, but every time he left the house, the brick fell off. So, he came to get me to help find more bricks – although I feel the real reason was so that he could pass the problem on to me and bugger off to work. Bit annoyed about this because he doesn’t actually need to be in work till 10 am.

He left me standing in the garden, in the wind and rain, (in quite a skimpy tee-shirt) holding the window, and went off to work saying he would “nail a piece of wood up” when he got home. Fortunately the bricks held the window in place long enough for me to find a suitable piece of wood. Luckily I was able do something slightly better than the bricks! It looked as though it might hold, but I spent most of the morning worrying that I might be minus a window when I got home. I rang home at lunchtime to make sure all was OK – and thank goodness it was. When I got home the piece of wood was still there, (as was the window) although ‘his’ bricks had dropped off! A further piece of wood was added to make it even more secure.

He finally came home – without any wood – and asked who had added the wood.

“Me” I told him.

“Oh.” His face fell. Obviously if I’ve done it, it will be a crappy job.

“Did you use screws?”

“Yes.”

(I resisted the temptation for sarcasm here – I could have said “No – I used pasta sprials, but it was OK because I only boiled them for 8 minutes, so they were ‘al dente’”. I should point out at this stage that he is the one who once tried to mend a broken light fitting with Pritt stick glue and adhesive (paper) reinforcing circles – and the reason that it was broken was because he had hit it with a hammer in an attempt to… er… no… I don’t know why he hit it with a hammer – but anyway, that was the day that he was banned from touching anything electrical. He has also put a kitchen cupboard door on inside-out and upside-down and back to front – and he has put a bolt on a rabbit hutch on the side of the ‘door’ that had the hinge – so he’s no Handy Andy – think more Jasper Carrott’s ‘Wiggy’)

The inquisition continued…

“Ah – but did you screw it into the outside frame?” (He was determined to find something wrong.)

Duh no?? I thought I’d screw it into the glass! Or perhaps into thin air! I could hardly have screwed it onto the wood that no longer exists now, could I?

He keeps pressing it from the inside – I rather suspect he would love it to fall out, to prove to himself I am more inept than him.

Ungrateful git!!

So that’s 2 episodes of ungratefulness I’ve come across today – the other was at work. I’d like to think that when it is someone else’s birthday and I eat something THEY brought in, I wouldn’t effing criticise it. “Oh your lemon cake isn’t quite lemony enough and those coconut things have got coconut in them!”

F-F-F-fancy that! Coconut thingies with coconut? Whatever will they think of next?

I might spend the next year perfecting a recipe for the most lemoniest lemon cake ever. Made with lemon peel and the juice of 50 lemons, with a thick layer of lemon slices, all sandwiched together with home-made extra lemony lemon curd, soaked overnight in concentrated lemon juice and decorated with one of those naff plastic lemons.

Rant over…

Well almost. Bosie keeps eating the Guinea pig food – I wouldn’t mind but he has £14 worth of rabbit food to get through…

I’m off to have a calming bath, and a Lush bath bomb… (NOT the lemon one!!)

...getting to know new family members!

Introducing Bosie - latest addition to the family...



I chose him to be a companion for one of our baby Guinea pigs, Oodles (as it is time Oodles is separated from all his sisters, as we intend to avoid having any more 'little surprises'!)

Bosie and Oodles...



So far, they seem to be getting along with each other. Bosie seemed mildly interested to see who he was living with, while Oodles was (understandibly) wary of the 'giant'. Today, Oodles has come out of hiding and was apparently climbing over Bosie earlier on. Bosie is not going to get much bigger, and seems very laid back.

At the weekend, Smitty, Galvatron and Bilo will be returning to Bournville, so Peanut and Noodles will probably move into the hutch in the garage (if it isn't too cold).

Bosie was named after Oscar Wilde's attractive friend (played by Jude Law in the film when Stephen Fry played Oscar - excellent film, superb actors - gorgeous rabbit!)

Discovering...

...the secret of The Loch Ness Monster!


(artwork by me)

Moaning about bread...

Wheat free bread to be specific. Now I only have limited experience of this product, but basically, all you need to know is, it is not brilliant.

Wheat free Christmas cake, wheat free Christmas pudding and wheat free mince pies all taste, and look, just like their wheaty cousins. It'd hard to tell the difference. They are very nice. As are some wheat free cakes, biscuits and puddings.

I have just VERY CAREFULLY removed 2 slices from their packet with the intention of making myself a ham sandwich. I was being extra careful because I know it can be quite dry and a little crumblier than ordinary bread.

This is exactly how it came out of the bag.



And according to the packaging, this is "IDEAL FOR TOASTING".

In what?

Buying light bulbs...

Why do they all “go” at the same time? Why do I never have the sense to keep spares? Am I that disorganised? Would I just rather spend my money on much needed chocolate than spare bulbs? (Yes is the answer to that last one.)

Well anyway – I groped about in the dark for a couple of days, because, of course, I don’t think about buying replacements when it’s light – it’s only when I need the light that I think about it, by which time the shop is closed or I can’t be bothered. But they are done now!

At least I do replace them. I really don’t know what would happen if I wasn’t here to do it. Like the other things I do that no one else would, e.g. changing the sheets, washing tea-towels and cleaning the toilet. Yes – all the glamorous jobs! The resident male’s answer to the lack of bathroom light was to light a candle. Several candles might have been better, but he chose a tea-light in a pink and green glass tea-light holder which made it about 100 times less bright than just a tea-light. I was surprised to find a candle in there on Wednesday morning, when I got up – but not at all surprised that he came home without a new one – despite him working opposite a shop that sells bulbs. I had to wait in for the gas man on Wednesday, followed by a trip to the vet, and wasn’t in a bulb – or anything else – buying mood that day. So we managed with the dull candle till I got some on Thursday. It is actually quite relaxing having a bath by candle light – if you can get over being cross about being the only one who replaces the stupid bulbs.

Talking of baths – I’m still enjoying the glorious post-Christmas excess of lovely smelling bath additions – and have several Lush bath bombs which always make me feel quite deliciously decadent. They smell wonderful and some of them can be quite surprising, especially if it’s one you haven’t had before. I had a white one this morning – there were a few red ‘bits’ in it, and a red star. Inside there was a message telling me that my wish had been granted! Perhaps I should have looked more closely at the bomb details first to know that this might have been a possibility – then I could have made a suitable wish! Is the granting of the wish null and void because I haven’t made a recent one? Does it just work on the last wish I made? Are there any bath bombs with “Better luck next time” messages? Do Lush grant ALL wishes – and more to the point – what on earth WAS my last wish? Could it perhaps work on the next wish I make? Should I dash out for a lottery ticket? Would ‘world peace’ be a less selfish wish? Should I just be greedy??

Problem is, of course, I have a feeling my last wish was something silly like everlasting light bulbs. Now I can see many people would benefit from this, so it’s not completely selfish – but what of the poor bulb-factory workers? What would become of them?

Can I cope with all the guilt this early in the morning? Baths are supposed to be relaxing, aren’t they? You would have thought I’d learnt my bath bomb lesson of checking the contents after walking round for pretty much an entire day wondering why I felt so uncomfortable – to eventually discover a stray lavender spring nestled between my arse cheeks! Which reminds me – I don’t remember seeing the red star floating about in the bath water…