Pic from here
I always call it my malignant Northern hometown. Can you guess where it is yet?
Showing posts with label Babcia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Babcia. Show all posts
Wednesday, 6 June 2012
Great Keshling Giveaway!!!!
I am struggling my way ever upwards but I'm hoping to hit 100 followers before too long. For a little push I am planning a giveaway in the next fortnight, just things that reflect the kind of stuff I like and stuff I write about - saving money, food, old things, creating.....have to find something also that relates to my inherent snarkiness. Hmmmm. To do that I've decided to go to Babcia's house with Carb Addict for a few days. He is highly excited and has been counting down the days until we leave since....ooh, yesterday maybe? My Dad, 'Uncle Grandad' as Mr Charming used to think he was called, has apparently offered to look after Carb Addict whilst Babcia and I do 'stuff', so that's chazzing for us two and book auctions for the fellas.
Monday, 16 January 2012
Come Dancing!
Come dancing! Come on sister
Have yourself a ball
Don't be afraid to come dancing,
It's only natural
This evening Big Man and I had our first ballroom dancing lesson and it was such a lot of fun. He learned as a child and I...well, I just want to go on Strictly and this could be the first step. Nah, don't worry - I'm not that deluded! The class is a 10-week course in a local school and for anyone on an income of less than £12,000 a year it's only £7.50. That would be us then, so we're only paying 75p a week. Where can you get an hour-and-a-half's entertainment for 75p these days? Subsidised education is a wonderful thing.
This evening we did the Foxtrot and the Cha Cha Cha (daaaahling!) There were only three other couples there and one of those was two women. The older of them was so like Babcia to look at (but without her good teeth) that we were quite freaked out. When I texted her afterwards to tell her she has a doppelganger, Babcia replied 'Yes, that WAS me tonight, didn't want to tell you I'd be there, how did I do?' She gets nuttier as she gets older, she really does.
I think we did pretty well all told. We picked the steps up quickly and the instructor is really good. A bit of a namedropper - he knows Len Goodman!!!! - but still a fun bloke. My feet were aching at the end of the session and Big Man's knee was playing him up a bit, but I can't wait for next Monday. I'll be making Big Man practice every chance I get whether he wants to or not. Blackpool here I come!!!!!
One-two, cha cha cha!!!
Sunday, 13 November 2011
Pain
In preparation for my holiday next week I went to the salon today for waxing. It's more than a year since I was last there and my pain threshold has seemingly decreased in that time. When I was a regular I could almost fall asleep during the process but not today. I normally find shin fronts and ankles are the worst and backs of my legs the easiest. Bikini line is obviously pretty hair-raising too (Geddit? Hair-raising!) as are the armpits. Today was just a world of pain from beginning to end. This evening my underarms are burning and feel raw and as for the bikini line....well, best we don't even go there. All I will say is I'm walking like John Wayne. I salute any woman who can tolerate a Brazilian because I had to bite back a small scream when the beautician was splatting the hot wax around my nether regions and ripping hair out by the roots. There can't be many men who could bear it is all I can say.
It doesn't help that I'm....shall we say, on the hairy side. I'm not saying I'm
Frida Kahlo but pale skin and dark, strong hair (don't be fooled by the hair on my head - that hasn't been my real colour since I was 12) is a recipe for hirsuteness. I'm taking comfort from the fact that as you get older you get less hairy - the elderly lady residents I help care for are without exception hairless on their bodies. Not so on their upper lip and chin though....some of them need to be shaved as often as our men.
Talking about bikini waxing made me think of vajazzling (must stress I'm not planning any, just in case you get a little bit sick in your mouth at the idea) and in the interests of research I had a quick look at vajazzling.com. According to the website, 'vajazzling isn't that much different from other forms of bikini area decoration'. I must be a bit of a style numpty because I assumed, in my innocence, that the only form of bikini area decoration available was a pair of bikini bottoms. Red had explained to me quite a while ago what vajazzling is so I was surprised to see that not only can you be vajazzled on your back, arms or chest but that men can be vajazzled as well. Presumably a man very secure with his own sexuality. Or a groom-to-be's rite of passage on his stag night, much like having one eyebrow shaved off. Or a step up from a back, sac and crack wax for Red Nose Day (back to waxing again - sorry, I can't help it, my armpits are really sore!).
I don't see the point of it to be honest - the little stick on stones look cheap and nasty and really, if you think it looks a bit boring down below you could always use one of those Bazooka Joe transfers to cheer the 'bikini area' up. Or a tattoo. My dad went to sea with a man who had 'A Present For A Good Girl' with an arrow pointing downwards tattooed on his lower belly. And Babcia told me a story she'd heard about a trawlerman who used to go into the pub she worked in before she met my dad. Seems he had a couple of huntsmen tattooed on each buttock and a fox's tail disappearing into that place 'where the sun don't shine', as we say in polite society.
Now that's pain.
It doesn't help that I'm....shall we say, on the hairy side. I'm not saying I'm
Frida Kahlo but pale skin and dark, strong hair (don't be fooled by the hair on my head - that hasn't been my real colour since I was 12) is a recipe for hirsuteness. I'm taking comfort from the fact that as you get older you get less hairy - the elderly lady residents I help care for are without exception hairless on their bodies. Not so on their upper lip and chin though....some of them need to be shaved as often as our men.
Talking about bikini waxing made me think of vajazzling (must stress I'm not planning any, just in case you get a little bit sick in your mouth at the idea) and in the interests of research I had a quick look at vajazzling.com. According to the website, 'vajazzling isn't that much different from other forms of bikini area decoration'. I must be a bit of a style numpty because I assumed, in my innocence, that the only form of bikini area decoration available was a pair of bikini bottoms. Red had explained to me quite a while ago what vajazzling is so I was surprised to see that not only can you be vajazzled on your back, arms or chest but that men can be vajazzled as well. Presumably a man very secure with his own sexuality. Or a groom-to-be's rite of passage on his stag night, much like having one eyebrow shaved off. Or a step up from a back, sac and crack wax for Red Nose Day (back to waxing again - sorry, I can't help it, my armpits are really sore!).
I don't see the point of it to be honest - the little stick on stones look cheap and nasty and really, if you think it looks a bit boring down below you could always use one of those Bazooka Joe transfers to cheer the 'bikini area' up. Or a tattoo. My dad went to sea with a man who had 'A Present For A Good Girl' with an arrow pointing downwards tattooed on his lower belly. And Babcia told me a story she'd heard about a trawlerman who used to go into the pub she worked in before she met my dad. Seems he had a couple of huntsmen tattooed on each buttock and a fox's tail disappearing into that place 'where the sun don't shine', as we say in polite society.
Now that's pain.
Wednesday, 12 October 2011
Dancing Feet, I've Got Those Dancing Feet
When she was a little girl Babcia couldn't sit still so she was sent to dance class. She did a bit of ballet but mainly tap and carried on, the star of every show, until she was 15.
Babcia about 6 on the left. What a little dolly! Maybe 15 on the right.
She was an excellent dancer apparently and because her mum, my Big Grandma had also danced as a child it was very much encouraged. Money (well, what little they could spare) and time was lavished on costumes which were usually homemade by Big Grandma and her mum; my great-granny, Little Grandma. Both of the costumes in the photos were made with love by the handy females of the family....clever, weren't they? Even though the family were very poor - didn't have two pennies to scratch their arses with, in the vernacular of my malignant Northern home town - money was always found for Babcia's dance classes. I guess she was a source of pride to them, winning competitions, appearing in shows and so on.....times were hard and God love 'em, they needed something.
Fast forward fifteen years and Babcia had her own daughter (that would be li'l ole porkster me). And what was more natural than sending her to dance class? I started off at Mrs Bradley's and did Ballet, Tap and Acro, which was acrobatics and the bit I loved most - I was always upside down, doing the splits or walking on my hands and was pretty good at it too. The studio was at the top of some stairs and we always started with a kind of warm-up that entailed us doing tap, ball-change; tap, ball-change all around the room to Mr Bradley pounding out 'Walking My Baby Back Home' on the poorly tuned piano. If I ever hear that music it flings me right back to dark winter nights up those rickety stairs.
I went to a class there on a Saturday morning too and I remember a horrible incident that wouldn't happen nowadays - Health and Safety has some good points. We didn't have a barre and had to hold on to the back of a chair to do warm up, including where you kick to the front, side and back from the hip with a straight leg. One big girl (so probably about 11 to my 7 or 8) must have been kicking a bit too mulishly, the chair tipped over, she fell and her knee was dislocated. It looked horrific and the screams from her were just awful. An ambulance was called and when it arrived the paramedics had to manhandle this poor child down the stairs. I remember thinking at the time that she was making a show of herself but with hindsight I see she was just a little girl and for sure she was in agony. Strange the things you remember...
I have a second cousin who is a couple months younger than me and her mum, the aunt of Babcia, wanted Martha to dance too so consequently she followed me from dance class to dance class like a bad credit score (I never stayed anywhere for long). If I was a porkster she was a girl mountain....together we were Pinky and Perky made flesh, our chunky knees, dimpled thighs and straining leotards marking us as different from the sprightly little pixies who made up the rest of the student body. And even at 10 I had enough dignity to realise the teacher's suggestion that Martha and I appear in a duet as Tweedledee and Tweedledum in the annual county-wide Musical Festival was A Very Bad Idea.
Friends, I left with as much dignity as a little round ugly duckling could muster.
Undaunted I enrolled both Red AND Mr Charming in tap and ballet classes. Whilst tidying a cupboard the other day I came across Red's ballet bag with her leotard and stuff in and couldn't believe how small it was. She liked ballet ("good toes! naughty toes!") and Mr Charming tolerated tap (I found his weeny tap shoes too) though the fact that he hated ballet didn't stop him being inveigled into appearing in the Christmas Gala as a robin in a brown leotard and beak. I must find the video of that performance....! By the time Red was 6 or 7 I enrolled her in gymnastics too and within a really short space of time she was moved from a little 'for fun' class into the city squad, training for 12 hours a week. Yep, that's right, kids of 7 and 8 train for 12 hours a week in this country. The problem is, if your child shows any spark of being good at gym they're pounced on and really worked hard....I know because after three years Red had a crushed disc in her back to prove it. I think we're so desperate for sporting success in the UK that we push children too hard and not all can cope with it. Red accepted before I did that she was never going to be good enough to go far as a gymnast (I'm as guilty as all the other pushy moms out there who want something more for themselves than for their child) and gave it up. I don't need to tell you either that Mr Charming is NOT Gene Kelly in-waiting!
Still, the family love affair with dancing continues. Whilst at Babcia's at the weekend my sister-in-law came to visit with my niece and nephew, Lili and Little Baby Jack. Although she doesn't yet go to dance class she loves to try on the tap shoes Babcia bought her and do a routine. This time Babcia put her tappers on too!!!
Although it looks false that is actually Babcia's real leg -
she asked me to make sure I pointed that out
Putting on the shoes seemed to turn Lili into a whirling dervish - a kind of tiny tapping tornado. She's just four and has an amazing imagination...here she is in her magic shoes that won't stop dancing once you put them on (and no, she hasn't seen The Red Shoes).
I only wish I could show you a second film with Lili's face in it....her expressions are an absolute scream, she's putting everything she has into it - confusion, terror, disbelief, exhaustion - I'd forgotten how comical little children can be! But I promised her mum I'd keep her identity a secret. Until she appears on 'You've Been Framed!' that is.
Something tells me this family's dancing days are far from over :)
Friday, 7 October 2011
Saturday, 20 August 2011
Belated Blog Swap News and a Bognor-iffic Time!!!!
Well hello there. I remembered that I hadn't shown you what I got in my blog swap plus I've been encouraging Red to start blogging and I can't really quit when she's just starting, can I? I've got a bit of time in between listing on eBay (anybody else's sales SLOOOOOOOOOOOOW?), struggling with Mr Charming's student loan form and having a bath so here I am!
First my blog swap with the magnificent Lucy from Being of Sound Mind. The box she sent was decorated beautifully (compared to mine which was probably advertising Value Pork Scratchings or somesuch)....
Let's see, I got a lovely home-made (I think?) candle in a rose sugar bowl that sits on a little glass and gilt saucer. A glass bird paperweight that's very tactile. I love glass birds. Some Dr Seuss stickers which are great because I always use return labels and stickers on my letters and parcels. A chunky ring. A fab picture in a frame for a Book Lover. Lucy made this herself and covered the frame in decoupaged book pages and used Scrabble tiles for the wording. Finally I got a notebook that had been all Gothed-up with glitter, net and paper. I always have lots of notebooks on the go for my interminable lists. I even got a lovely rainbow from her sweet boys! Thanks so much Lucy. Of course the best part of the swap was that I was matched up with Lucy and I hope we're pals now.... :)
The beach is extremely stony and seems to just drop off about 12' away from the shoreline. There were the usual hardy families crouched shivering on deckchairs, huddling around the picnic hamper in much the same way as Native American families gathered around the camp fire. Look! They have Granny, the family matriarch scowling beneath her 'I ♥ BR' baseball cap. And there are the young bucks, all goose-pimpled flesh and Fat Face swim trunks filling their fat faces with Scotch Eggs and rock novelties (oooh, Missus!). Their cross-generational day out is more an ordeal to be endured than a fun occasion to enjoy, but having paid £2 each to keep their arses off the pebbles they're unwilling to admit defeat this soon.
We were unswayed by the dubious pleasures of the amusements and made our way to the town centre where I came across quite a few charity shops. How did that happen, tee hee!!! I did get a few bargains, the best one being four knitted toilet roll covers, complete with the dolls AND the toilet rolls, for the incredible price of 49p EACH!!!! You couldn't buy the doll alone for 49p. Plus they were really well-made. I am threatening Mr Charming with one for his flat when he goes back to uni. I already gave one to my colleague Agata who has just moved into a flat with her husband. She loved it! Another colleague and I were trying to explain to Agata what 'naff' means but how do you explain it to somebody Polish, even when their colloquial English is good?! I also bought a really lovely Warehouse 50s style dress for a fiver and a couple of Pyrex inserts for a hostess trolley, with lids. They only cost £4 and I can probably get £15-£20 for them on eBay. Not a bad haul.
I'd definitely recommend Bognor for a chazzing trip and as it's only 40 miles from me I'll be taking Babcia the next time she comes. She texted me and said that she has had a tic in her eye for a week now and feels just like Inspector Clouseau.
I think she means Herbert Lom.
First my blog swap with the magnificent Lucy from Being of Sound Mind. The box she sent was decorated beautifully (compared to mine which was probably advertising Value Pork Scratchings or somesuch)....
Lucy sent me some really lovely things - she is so creative and must have put a lot of time and effort into my gifts.
Last Saturday we planned to go to Arundel for the day (me, Big Man and Carb Addict) but as we were driving towards it we saw signs for Bognor Regis and, never having visited before we decided to go there instead. Surprisingly there were not that many people around. We had something to eat in a pub/restaurant on the front and did a spot of people-watching - my favourite pastime and the perfect outlet for my own special brand of snarkiness. There was a little market near the seafront too with a stall selling what I guess you'd call 'rock novelties'. I think it needs a special kind of humour not only to think it's a fun idea to give sweetie genitalia as a gift but also to be happy to receive them. Maybe it's just me but do people really think 'hmm, Margaret on Reception supports the donkey sanctuary and she has a sweet tooth, we'll take her a big sugar penis as a souvenir'?
Bognor Regis pier - sorry, didn't take any sea photos :S
The beach is extremely stony and seems to just drop off about 12' away from the shoreline. There were the usual hardy families crouched shivering on deckchairs, huddling around the picnic hamper in much the same way as Native American families gathered around the camp fire. Look! They have Granny, the family matriarch scowling beneath her 'I ♥ BR' baseball cap. And there are the young bucks, all goose-pimpled flesh and Fat Face swim trunks filling their fat faces with Scotch Eggs and rock novelties (oooh, Missus!). Their cross-generational day out is more an ordeal to be endured than a fun occasion to enjoy, but having paid £2 each to keep their arses off the pebbles they're unwilling to admit defeat this soon.
The Lucky Last Hole!
We were unswayed by the dubious pleasures of the amusements and made our way to the town centre where I came across quite a few charity shops. How did that happen, tee hee!!! I did get a few bargains, the best one being four knitted toilet roll covers, complete with the dolls AND the toilet rolls, for the incredible price of 49p EACH!!!! You couldn't buy the doll alone for 49p. Plus they were really well-made. I am threatening Mr Charming with one for his flat when he goes back to uni. I already gave one to my colleague Agata who has just moved into a flat with her husband. She loved it! Another colleague and I were trying to explain to Agata what 'naff' means but how do you explain it to somebody Polish, even when their colloquial English is good?! I also bought a really lovely Warehouse 50s style dress for a fiver and a couple of Pyrex inserts for a hostess trolley, with lids. They only cost £4 and I can probably get £15-£20 for them on eBay. Not a bad haul.
I'd definitely recommend Bognor for a chazzing trip and as it's only 40 miles from me I'll be taking Babcia the next time she comes. She texted me and said that she has had a tic in her eye for a week now and feels just like Inspector Clouseau.
I think she means Herbert Lom.
Thursday, 21 July 2011
The One With The Bitten Face
I always feel a mixture of sadness and relief when Babcia goes home after a visit - sadness, obviously because she's my mum, I don't see her very often, and she lives a long way away (in our malignant Northern hometown as you know). But relief because she and I usually end up spending more than we should when we're together and neither of us can really afford it. Well naturally....she's a pensioner and I'm trying very hard to live a frugal life. We had a great visit though - lots of chat, lots of laughs, LOTS of charity shopping (which I'll show you next time); Mr Charming is home from uni, Red came back from London specially to see her babcia and Carb Addict had the weekend here. Big Man spent rather a lot of time in his room to escape the yacking from all of us. It's so nice to have three generations together but such a shame it doesn't happen very often :(
Anyway, Babcia made it home without any trouble this time, which is always good bearing in mind the palaver last time...
So, now we have one day before the house is full of children once again. Carb Addict is home for the weekend tomorrow and on Saturday we have hired a van to collect Red and all her worldly goods from Lewisham then bring her back here. Her plan is to stay at home for 'a month or so', get some work and make some money, then return to London and a new flat (that she hasn't attempted to look for, btw) and hopefully get a job working with people with autism. I'm hoping against hope that it all works out but I have a feeling that things may not go entirely to plan, as they have a habit of doing in this household. Mr Charming of course is already home and is also threatening to get a job since he is down to his last £100. And there was me fretting about having an empty nest - they're never off the doorstep.....!
So although there is lots to blog about I'm gonna make this a short one because I am at work at 8:00 tomorrow - extra hours to try and replenish the coffers. It's a pity I have to go out at all though because not only has some sort of insect bitten me on the face, leaving me with two hideous, hard blistery things near my lip (which are getting worse with every passing day), but when I woke up this morning I had a golfball-sized sore lump in my neck. And indeed still have. My lovely nurse colleague Kasia had a feel, asked if it was painful and when I said that it is, said 'is okay, is nothing. But see doctor'. And luckily the doctor agreed! An infected saliva gland in case you're interested. Or possibly a stone in it. We shall see. Apparently lots of gland lumps and swellings are due to being run down or to stress.
Now why would I be stressed?!
Anyway, Babcia made it home without any trouble this time, which is always good bearing in mind the palaver last time...
So, now we have one day before the house is full of children once again. Carb Addict is home for the weekend tomorrow and on Saturday we have hired a van to collect Red and all her worldly goods from Lewisham then bring her back here. Her plan is to stay at home for 'a month or so', get some work and make some money, then return to London and a new flat (that she hasn't attempted to look for, btw) and hopefully get a job working with people with autism. I'm hoping against hope that it all works out but I have a feeling that things may not go entirely to plan, as they have a habit of doing in this household. Mr Charming of course is already home and is also threatening to get a job since he is down to his last £100. And there was me fretting about having an empty nest - they're never off the doorstep.....!
So although there is lots to blog about I'm gonna make this a short one because I am at work at 8:00 tomorrow - extra hours to try and replenish the coffers. It's a pity I have to go out at all though because not only has some sort of insect bitten me on the face, leaving me with two hideous, hard blistery things near my lip (which are getting worse with every passing day), but when I woke up this morning I had a golfball-sized sore lump in my neck. And indeed still have. My lovely nurse colleague Kasia had a feel, asked if it was painful and when I said that it is, said 'is okay, is nothing. But see doctor'. And luckily the doctor agreed! An infected saliva gland in case you're interested. Or possibly a stone in it. We shall see. Apparently lots of gland lumps and swellings are due to being run down or to stress.
Now why would I be stressed?!
Monday, 11 July 2011
What A Load Of Rubbish!
Unless you live on the stretch of the South Coast covered by 'South Today' you won't be aware that here in Southampton the dustmen have been on strike for weeks. Last Friday's local paper told us that the union covering dustmen has a 'war chest' of twenty million pounds, enabling the strike to carry on indefinitely. The strange thing is, the paper says that there will be another strike starting, as if they go back to work then stop again, but we haven't had our regular bins emptied for about six weeks now. The recycling bins were emptied maybe three weeks ago but who cares about that? We need the general, stinky rubbish clearing. The street cleaners are also on strike and it's beginning to get pretty ropey around here.
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Southampton city centre
We are finding it reasonably difficult even though we have four bins, two general and two recycling. We didn't buy extra bins but we live on a main road and years ago we came down one Sunday morning to find, first a wheelie bin in the front garden followed by a recycling bin on top of the car a few months later. We assumed drunks'd pushed them from outside houses further up the road and abandoned them at ours - what larks! Obviously we kept them and it's a jolly good job we did too! But if it's getting bad for us it must be worse for people who don't have a waste disposal system. When we had our new kitchen put in years ago we'd just come back from a villa in Florida and I insisted on having a 'garbage gobbler'. Thank goodness I did - all the food waste goes straight down the drain. Even so we have (or did have until this evening when Big Man, Mr Charming and Carb Addict burned them in the brazier) four black sacks full of rubbish too. It was warm today, they were getting smelly, there's MILLIONS of fat, lazy flies around.......what can I say, I live with pyromaniacs. And the smell from the fire was so foul that I'm surprised nobody called the police.
Student ghetto!!!
There's a student enclave near us and each year when they move out of their rented houses they tend to throw incredible amounts of 'stuff' out....kitchen utensils, clothing, bits of furniture, unopened packets of food...must be £000's of stuff. The universities set up a scheme a couple years back where the students could leave anything decent and reusuable outside their houses on a particular day at the end of term and it would get collected - it's still ongoing - but it's always a mess at this time of year. Now it's just dreadful! Walking through there the other day I could see bags of unopened pasta, noodles, crackers; a pair of practically unused Ugg boots; a TV - I was so tempted to scrag some items but oh, the indignity of being seen and labelled as a middle-aged pikey deterred me. It's a throwaway society we live in and no mistake.
More student house trash round the corner from me :(
It really shows what dirty, lazy pigs people can be when you see the city centre littered with McDonalds' bags and wrappers, empty pop bottles and bits of paper - did their parents never tell them not to be a litterbug? I always made sure my kids used a rubbish bin and even Carb Addict, my special boy knows to put his rubbish in a bin, or failing that his pocket until he gets home. I think McDonalds should have staff out on the streets picking up their litter, if nobody else's. In fact I think all businesses should be responsible for sweeping and tidying outside their own establishment as a matter of course, not just when there's a strike on. Isn't that what they do in other countries?
Across the road from me...yuk
We have lost all civic pride in this country!!!!!
Here endeth the rant.
PS I'm not sure how much blogging I'll be able to do from today because I'm having a visitor for a week, one who talks even more than I do AND expects me to answer. Yes, Babcia is coming to visit.
If she doesn't miss the coach, obviously.
Friday, 1 July 2011
Sweet Peas, Buttons and Charity Shops
Well hello friends. Thank you to Jane and Louise who tried to help with my two (of many, many) problems. Jane - I fear my sweet peas might be past the pinching out stage. What say you?
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Some of the stalks are pretty thick - I'll know next year I guess, and what I do have smell divine. Louise - I think I'm going to have to wait until I get the new Blogger dashboard. Mine is old-stylee. I'm sure there must be some way of adding the HTML code but I'll wait and do it the dork-friendly way!
I got a couple nice useful bits from a charity shop in the city centre on Wednesday. I try to buy things I can make a profit on or that I know I'll use. Having said that I've bought lots of stuff for Red and Mr Charming in the past that I thought would be great for them, only to find it thrown in a corner of their respective rooms. I won't do it any more now.....hope I've learned my lesson. So anyway, I'll show you what I bought.
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Two rolls of Spiderman wrapping paper for 99p and two rolls of Cat in the Hat wrapping paper, also 99p. My nephew Little Baby Jack loves Spiderman whilst Carb Addict likes the Cat. The rolls are nearly 3' wide and are 5' long so I thought they were a good buy. Then I got something to use when baking.
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It's a volume measure, for dry goods. At the risk of telling you all what you already know, rather than weighing flour, sugar, rice or whatever out you just pour it into this cup, which has handy 'weight' measures for a variety of different stuffs. Does that make sense? I should've photographed the inside to make it really clear. I have a lot of baking to do this weekend so it will be getting some use. It's brand new and I paid £1.99. We are celebrating July 4 at work so I am making brownies, cupcakes, scones, apple tart, lemon meringue pie and muffins (yep, I know.....I try too hard). I also found a recipe for Red Velvet Cheesecake that sounds delish so I'm going to make that too. Nom nom nom. Then I bought this Jenga knock-off for £1.99.
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I bought it for the old people I work with. Their current favourite is Connect Four but I thought they might like this, and I'll get reimbursed for it so it's all good. Finally I spotted this and paid £2.99. It's also brand new, originally from Lakeland. I have bought a couple of these in the past for Babcia - usually Brown Bag Cookie Molds - so I picked this up for her Christmas stocking.
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What do you think of my buys? I also bought something yesterday for my swap partner's parcel but I'm not going to post that in case she sees it. Did anybody else find that they have bought things for Lakota's swap then keep seeing things that you thing your swap buddy might like more? I've been doing that for a month so far.... :( I suppose I'll be happy with what I've got at some stage.
Plenty of other stuff has been happening but I'll save it for a couple more posts. It looks like Red's landlord problems have been somewhat sorted out but it has cost us the best part of £700 and I'm a bit gutted to be honest. Our emergency cushion has been severely deflated but....o well, that's what parents are for, right?
As well as my baking sesh I am hoping to go car booting on Sunday before I go into work - don't usually do Sundays but I've arranged a little party for the tennis finals and I need to go and supervise the strawberries and cream. Though whether the residents'll be interested now Murray is out is debatable!
What are your plans for the weekend?
Some of the stalks are pretty thick - I'll know next year I guess, and what I do have smell divine. Louise - I think I'm going to have to wait until I get the new Blogger dashboard. Mine is old-stylee. I'm sure there must be some way of adding the HTML code but I'll wait and do it the dork-friendly way!
I got a couple nice useful bits from a charity shop in the city centre on Wednesday. I try to buy things I can make a profit on or that I know I'll use. Having said that I've bought lots of stuff for Red and Mr Charming in the past that I thought would be great for them, only to find it thrown in a corner of their respective rooms. I won't do it any more now.....hope I've learned my lesson. So anyway, I'll show you what I bought.
Two rolls of Spiderman wrapping paper for 99p and two rolls of Cat in the Hat wrapping paper, also 99p. My nephew Little Baby Jack loves Spiderman whilst Carb Addict likes the Cat. The rolls are nearly 3' wide and are 5' long so I thought they were a good buy. Then I got something to use when baking.
It's a volume measure, for dry goods. At the risk of telling you all what you already know, rather than weighing flour, sugar, rice or whatever out you just pour it into this cup, which has handy 'weight' measures for a variety of different stuffs. Does that make sense? I should've photographed the inside to make it really clear. I have a lot of baking to do this weekend so it will be getting some use. It's brand new and I paid £1.99. We are celebrating July 4 at work so I am making brownies, cupcakes, scones, apple tart, lemon meringue pie and muffins (yep, I know.....I try too hard). I also found a recipe for Red Velvet Cheesecake that sounds delish so I'm going to make that too. Nom nom nom. Then I bought this Jenga knock-off for £1.99.
I bought it for the old people I work with. Their current favourite is Connect Four but I thought they might like this, and I'll get reimbursed for it so it's all good. Finally I spotted this and paid £2.99. It's also brand new, originally from Lakeland. I have bought a couple of these in the past for Babcia - usually Brown Bag Cookie Molds - so I picked this up for her Christmas stocking.
Plenty of other stuff has been happening but I'll save it for a couple more posts. It looks like Red's landlord problems have been somewhat sorted out but it has cost us the best part of £700 and I'm a bit gutted to be honest. Our emergency cushion has been severely deflated but....o well, that's what parents are for, right?
As well as my baking sesh I am hoping to go car booting on Sunday before I go into work - don't usually do Sundays but I've arranged a little party for the tennis finals and I need to go and supervise the strawberries and cream. Though whether the residents'll be interested now Murray is out is debatable!
What are your plans for the weekend?
Monday, 27 June 2011
I Must Ask You NOT To Scream!
...when you see my 'To Be Read' piles. Bookcases of them. It's quite disgraceful really but ever since I was a little kid I have read books voraciously. I would rather read a book over anything else in the world. Not only do you learn all sorts of stuff from books but it also makes you great at spelling and grammar....show me one person who reads a lot who isn't also brilliant at spelling, and I'll show you somebody who is telling porkies about reading masses of books.
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Here are two FULL bookcases of 'To Be Read' books plus all the books on the floor, which are mixed up with ones I've read (this is my loft, by the way!). Maybe 10% of what I own have been read. And I've no particular likes or dislikes either. Well, apart from 'chick-lit'....I don't think I've read any and it doesn't sound that appealing either. Anything with 'Shopaholic' or 'Yummy Mummy' in the title is a complete turn-off. I like anything to do with the Mafia; thrillers; Scandinavian crime (but not especially 'The Girl Who....' books - I like Jo Nesbo and Arnaldur Indridasen); wartime social history like Nella Last's diaries and any factual stuff about the war; some autobiographies - Kenneth Williams' diaries are a big favourite of mine, though not strictly autobiographies I know - my favourite book EVER is the autobiographical 'Borstal Boy' by Brendan Behan; any crime books that are series set in the UK - the Peter Robinson ones and those by Jim Kelly are great; books about the 'Bright Young Things' and any early 20th century upper-class social history; I've ALWAYS got time for Enid Blyton, Noel Streatfeild and Joan Lingard; and and I really like reading cookery books too. Pretty eclectic taste, would you say?
In the last couple weeks I've read three books by Martina Cole - Close, The Family and The Runaway. Her books are okay but a bit samey. Her hero/anti-hero is always very tall, brawny, blue-eyed and black-haired, and of Irish extraction whilst her heroines are tiny, blonde with hands-span waist and big boobs, and there is always a jealous, bitter mother who resents her blonde, tiny etc etc daughter for marrying the local 'Face'. But they passed the time in the caravan. Surprisingly enough, one of the residents where I work, 89 years old and rather straight-laced picked up 'Goodnight Lady' by Martina Cole (for main characters see above, PLUS child abuse by the lord of the manor) and loved it. What can I say? We has hidden depths in Hampshire....lol!
I read too 'The Future Homemakers of America' by Laurie Graham, on Babcia's recommendation. It's about the friendship between five American service wives based with their husbands in Norfolk, and a local woman Kath Pharoah. I enjoyed it a great deal and you know, thinking about it, it could be chick-lit. I'm not sure. I don't think so though, it's not modern enough and there isn't any sex in it.
Then I read 'Going Gently' by David Nobbs, another book that, like the one above spans a long time period. I didn't realise until I saw it on Amazon but the author also wrote the Reginald Perrin books. It's a tragi-comic novel all about Swansea-born beauty Kate Copson who has a stroke just shy of her 100th birthday. She lies in a hospital bed, her body paralysed but her mind free to roam over her long life of love, adventure and happiness. She also deduces which of her three sons murdered her fifth husband. I loved this book and recommend it most wholeheartedly!
Third book was 'Brooklyn' by Colm Toibin. It's not that long so I read it really quickly. It's set in rural 1950s Ireland and is the story of younger daughter Eilis who is sent to live in Brooklyn. She is at first terribly homesick but just as her life blossoms something happens at home that pulls her back.....I liked this because although I grew up in Dublin City in the late 70s/early 80s, the descriptions of the country characters were very recognisable to me, as was the idea that the priest is the oracle of all and of course the idea that emigration is the only door open for the young if they are to progress. My oldest aunt was sent over to Chicago in the 50s from Wicklow and made her life there so this book had a lot of resonance for me. Oh and if you read it, Eilis is pronounced 'Ay-lish'. Just so you know.... ;P
Lastly I read a book that I got from the library at work, 'Monster Love' by Carol Topolski. It's not a thriller or a mystery though it is a crime story of sorts. A couple who are besotted with each other become pregnant, despite trying not to. They have a little girl who they neglect then kill because she threatens their overwhelming desire for each other. That's not a spoiler by the way...it's actually in the blurb on the back. The story is told in different voices, such as the social worker, a neighbour woman, the husband's ex-boss and also the couple themselves. It was OK...just OK. Not particularly distressing (I didn't think) and it was short so didn't take long.
So, there are my book reviews. I'm not sure what I'll read next but it's not as if I don't have a lot of choice is it?! I have four or five books I've started and not finished (The Resurrectionist, Kitchen Con, Angels of Death - Inside the Bikers' Global Crime Empire to name three I can think of). I hate to not finish a book so maybe I should put my head torch on tonight and finish a few.
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Here are two FULL bookcases of 'To Be Read' books plus all the books on the floor, which are mixed up with ones I've read (this is my loft, by the way!). Maybe 10% of what I own have been read. And I've no particular likes or dislikes either. Well, apart from 'chick-lit'....I don't think I've read any and it doesn't sound that appealing either. Anything with 'Shopaholic' or 'Yummy Mummy' in the title is a complete turn-off. I like anything to do with the Mafia; thrillers; Scandinavian crime (but not especially 'The Girl Who....' books - I like Jo Nesbo and Arnaldur Indridasen); wartime social history like Nella Last's diaries and any factual stuff about the war; some autobiographies - Kenneth Williams' diaries are a big favourite of mine, though not strictly autobiographies I know - my favourite book EVER is the autobiographical 'Borstal Boy' by Brendan Behan; any crime books that are series set in the UK - the Peter Robinson ones and those by Jim Kelly are great; books about the 'Bright Young Things' and any early 20th century upper-class social history; I've ALWAYS got time for Enid Blyton, Noel Streatfeild and Joan Lingard; and and I really like reading cookery books too. Pretty eclectic taste, would you say?
In the last couple weeks I've read three books by Martina Cole - Close, The Family and The Runaway. Her books are okay but a bit samey. Her hero/anti-hero is always very tall, brawny, blue-eyed and black-haired, and of Irish extraction whilst her heroines are tiny, blonde with hands-span waist and big boobs, and there is always a jealous, bitter mother who resents her blonde, tiny etc etc daughter for marrying the local 'Face'. But they passed the time in the caravan. Surprisingly enough, one of the residents where I work, 89 years old and rather straight-laced picked up 'Goodnight Lady' by Martina Cole (for main characters see above, PLUS child abuse by the lord of the manor) and loved it. What can I say? We has hidden depths in Hampshire....lol!
I read too 'The Future Homemakers of America' by Laurie Graham, on Babcia's recommendation. It's about the friendship between five American service wives based with their husbands in Norfolk, and a local woman Kath Pharoah. I enjoyed it a great deal and you know, thinking about it, it could be chick-lit. I'm not sure. I don't think so though, it's not modern enough and there isn't any sex in it.
Then I read 'Going Gently' by David Nobbs, another book that, like the one above spans a long time period. I didn't realise until I saw it on Amazon but the author also wrote the Reginald Perrin books. It's a tragi-comic novel all about Swansea-born beauty Kate Copson who has a stroke just shy of her 100th birthday. She lies in a hospital bed, her body paralysed but her mind free to roam over her long life of love, adventure and happiness. She also deduces which of her three sons murdered her fifth husband. I loved this book and recommend it most wholeheartedly!
Third book was 'Brooklyn' by Colm Toibin. It's not that long so I read it really quickly. It's set in rural 1950s Ireland and is the story of younger daughter Eilis who is sent to live in Brooklyn. She is at first terribly homesick but just as her life blossoms something happens at home that pulls her back.....I liked this because although I grew up in Dublin City in the late 70s/early 80s, the descriptions of the country characters were very recognisable to me, as was the idea that the priest is the oracle of all and of course the idea that emigration is the only door open for the young if they are to progress. My oldest aunt was sent over to Chicago in the 50s from Wicklow and made her life there so this book had a lot of resonance for me. Oh and if you read it, Eilis is pronounced 'Ay-lish'. Just so you know.... ;P
Lastly I read a book that I got from the library at work, 'Monster Love' by Carol Topolski. It's not a thriller or a mystery though it is a crime story of sorts. A couple who are besotted with each other become pregnant, despite trying not to. They have a little girl who they neglect then kill because she threatens their overwhelming desire for each other. That's not a spoiler by the way...it's actually in the blurb on the back. The story is told in different voices, such as the social worker, a neighbour woman, the husband's ex-boss and also the couple themselves. It was OK...just OK. Not particularly distressing (I didn't think) and it was short so didn't take long.
So, there are my book reviews. I'm not sure what I'll read next but it's not as if I don't have a lot of choice is it?! I have four or five books I've started and not finished (The Resurrectionist, Kitchen Con, Angels of Death - Inside the Bikers' Global Crime Empire to name three I can think of). I hate to not finish a book so maybe I should put my head torch on tonight and finish a few.
What are you all reading? Have you read any of the books I've written about and what did you think of them?
PS The worst book I have ever read in my life was Run For Home by Sheila Quigley - it stunk big time. What book almost put you off reading?
Saturday, 18 June 2011
Skool Daze
I've written about my convent girl days before and thinking about it, overall I had a blast....at least compared to life now. Oh, to be young and free with only the worry of what mark Sister Pius would give my Math homework! If I knew then what I know now I would have been a far different girl.
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When I was a kid we moved around a lot, between England and Ireland and I was lucky really to have all my secondary schooling in one place. But because we moved I didn't stay in touch with schoolfriends - not like Big Man did, for example, or like Red and Mr Charming have been able to. In fact, when Big Man was in the Navy and we had the opportunity to make the family 'mobile' (ie we agree to move around with him) I opted to be 'static' ( we stayed at home and Big Man lived in Plymouth in barracks), so opposed was I to moving the kids around. That's what 13 different houses and 21 different schools'll do to you I guess. Anyway, like I said, I was never really able to keep in touch with school friends.
But then there was Facebook!!!! I managed to get hold of one schoolfriend, Anita who now lives in London and is a nurse. Her parents still live in Dublin and in fact nearly all of the girls I knew then still live there also. Now I've heard through Facebook that there is a school reunion being held for the Class of 88, on July 23 this year. In Dublin, and my dilemma is whether to go or not.
If I thought there would be lots of girls from my 'gang', or even my class going I wouldn't hesitate (although the price of the flight plus finding somewhere to stay would be a big factor....I suppose the place to stay isn't insurmountable); BUT from what I can see of the RSVP list on the event page I only recognise one definite (out of nine!)and that's Anita, who I can see any time. Another two good friends live in Paris and Maryland so they won't be going. And like I blogged before, my bestest buddy Gez is MIA somewhere.
But apart from the financial aspect, the other thing that is putting me off is....what if they're all prettier, slimmer, cooler and more successful than me? I know I shouldn't care but it's human nature, right? I already told the mother of one of Red's old schoolpals who I met in Poundstretcher that Red was doing really well in London at uni, when in fact you and I know that she has dropped out of her course and is being evicted from her house (which I can't even bring myself to blog about at the moment). But in the face of her girl doing fantastically well, I just felt that I didn't want the inevitable sympathy and questions that would follow. I'm so shallow.....I'm just like a swan, serene on the surface and flailing around crazily underneath.
Of course I've seen some of the attendees' photos on FB and what they work as, and they're just regular women like me so I shouldn't worry, should I? But I know only too well that should even one old girl walk in looking fantastic and really together it would make me feel just awful plus I'd be stuck there, unable to skulk off home. Is it just me feels a failure most of the time or do other people feel like that too?
When I was a kid we moved around a lot, between England and Ireland and I was lucky really to have all my secondary schooling in one place. But because we moved I didn't stay in touch with schoolfriends - not like Big Man did, for example, or like Red and Mr Charming have been able to. In fact, when Big Man was in the Navy and we had the opportunity to make the family 'mobile' (ie we agree to move around with him) I opted to be 'static' ( we stayed at home and Big Man lived in Plymouth in barracks), so opposed was I to moving the kids around. That's what 13 different houses and 21 different schools'll do to you I guess. Anyway, like I said, I was never really able to keep in touch with school friends.
But then there was Facebook!!!! I managed to get hold of one schoolfriend, Anita who now lives in London and is a nurse. Her parents still live in Dublin and in fact nearly all of the girls I knew then still live there also. Now I've heard through Facebook that there is a school reunion being held for the Class of 88, on July 23 this year. In Dublin, and my dilemma is whether to go or not.
If I thought there would be lots of girls from my 'gang', or even my class going I wouldn't hesitate (although the price of the flight plus finding somewhere to stay would be a big factor....I suppose the place to stay isn't insurmountable); BUT from what I can see of the RSVP list on the event page I only recognise one definite (out of nine!)and that's Anita, who I can see any time. Another two good friends live in Paris and Maryland so they won't be going. And like I blogged before, my bestest buddy Gez is MIA somewhere.
But apart from the financial aspect, the other thing that is putting me off is....what if they're all prettier, slimmer, cooler and more successful than me? I know I shouldn't care but it's human nature, right? I already told the mother of one of Red's old schoolpals who I met in Poundstretcher that Red was doing really well in London at uni, when in fact you and I know that she has dropped out of her course and is being evicted from her house (which I can't even bring myself to blog about at the moment). But in the face of her girl doing fantastically well, I just felt that I didn't want the inevitable sympathy and questions that would follow. I'm so shallow.....I'm just like a swan, serene on the surface and flailing around crazily underneath.
Of course I've seen some of the attendees' photos on FB and what they work as, and they're just regular women like me so I shouldn't worry, should I? But I know only too well that should even one old girl walk in looking fantastic and really together it would make me feel just awful plus I'd be stuck there, unable to skulk off home. Is it just me feels a failure most of the time or do other people feel like that too?
Just like Morrissey, I hate it when my friends become successful........
Perhaps I should heed Babcia's school reunion experience. She went to one quite a few years back and told me that the women attending were cliquey and had obviously kept in touch with each other over the years. There was only one other woman who had been in the same class as her '....and I never liked her anyway.'
Looks like my schooldays will probably remain in the past....
Saturday, 28 May 2011
To Sleep: Perchance To Dream....
Ever since I was a kid I have talked in my sleep.
As I got older and had more worries (I suppose) I became a sleep-shouter and then a sleep-crier. Sometimes I wake myself up shouting; sometimes I have to be woken by Big Man because I am shouting. Or crying. And sometimes a combination of all three. I normally only do it when I haven't taken anything to knock me out (because of Big Man's horrendous, seismic snoring I am tranquillised almost every night otherwise I'd never get any sleep, broken or otherwise. Funny that, isn't it? He's the one with the problem but I'm the one who is medicated..)
It's rare for me to remember what has upset me so but that's not to say I don't ever remember dreams. Most are completely surreal, for example one a week or so ago when I dreamed that one of Red's ex-boyfriends ( let's call him Pigface for the sake of argument) arrived at my house dressed as Joey Ramone complete with sunglasses and black wig - Pigface is actually a gingery blonde who would like to be a Viking but is more Piltdown Man - and begged Red to go out with him. She eventually, reluctantly agreed. At the same time thirty perfectly-formed but only knee-high teenage girls had called over to see Mr Charming. All very bizarre. I tell the rest of the family my dreams when I can remember them and always ask 'what do you think it means?'. I'll leave you to guess at the kind of answers I get.
There are no other sleep-talkers/shouters/criers in the family but that doesn't mean that there aren't others who, like me, are plagued with crazy dreams. Many years ago Babcia was dreaming that she was a racehorse in the Grand National. She ran faster and faster and managed to take the lead. Just as she approached the winning post another horse came up beside her and was about to go past. In her desparation to win at all costs and nobble her rival, she turned and bit the other horse savagely on the neck....only to be awoken by a cry of pain from my Dad. Whose upper arm she had sunk her teeth into. Poor Dad. Three days break from the toughest job in the world and he ends up as a snack for Nijinsky.
Babcia's never lived it down.
As I got older and had more worries (I suppose) I became a sleep-shouter and then a sleep-crier. Sometimes I wake myself up shouting; sometimes I have to be woken by Big Man because I am shouting. Or crying. And sometimes a combination of all three. I normally only do it when I haven't taken anything to knock me out (because of Big Man's horrendous, seismic snoring I am tranquillised almost every night otherwise I'd never get any sleep, broken or otherwise. Funny that, isn't it? He's the one with the problem but I'm the one who is medicated..)
It's rare for me to remember what has upset me so but that's not to say I don't ever remember dreams. Most are completely surreal, for example one a week or so ago when I dreamed that one of Red's ex-boyfriends ( let's call him Pigface for the sake of argument) arrived at my house dressed as Joey Ramone complete with sunglasses and black wig - Pigface is actually a gingery blonde who would like to be a Viking but is more Piltdown Man - and begged Red to go out with him. She eventually, reluctantly agreed. At the same time thirty perfectly-formed but only knee-high teenage girls had called over to see Mr Charming. All very bizarre. I tell the rest of the family my dreams when I can remember them and always ask 'what do you think it means?'. I'll leave you to guess at the kind of answers I get.
There are no other sleep-talkers/shouters/criers in the family but that doesn't mean that there aren't others who, like me, are plagued with crazy dreams. Many years ago Babcia was dreaming that she was a racehorse in the Grand National. She ran faster and faster and managed to take the lead. Just as she approached the winning post another horse came up beside her and was about to go past. In her desparation to win at all costs and nobble her rival, she turned and bit the other horse savagely on the neck....only to be awoken by a cry of pain from my Dad. Whose upper arm she had sunk her teeth into. Poor Dad. Three days break from the toughest job in the world and he ends up as a snack for Nijinsky.
Babcia's never lived it down.
Thursday, 26 May 2011
Stardrops Keep Falling On My Head
Well they will do when you buy nine bottles at a time!
Apologies to anybody on the South Coast who is looking for Stardrops but when I tracked down nine bottles (all they had) on the shelf of Poundstretcher I had to buy them all - who knows when I might find some again? To those who haven't used it before Stardrops is the apex of cleaning fluids, making any and all household tasks a breeze! (O dear....looking at old knitting patterns yesterday has made me talk like a 50s housefrau!!). I first heard about Stardrops on moneysavingexpert.com and when I saw it in Wilkos I thought I'd try it. I've gone through a couple bottles since then and it's become harder and harder to find it. It's not been available for ages in my local Sainsburys or Asda; they've heard of it but don't sell it at Clarence Hardware (just about THE best hardware store in the world...you know, the kind where all the prices are handwritten and you can buy a single screw?); and like I said, it's not stocked at my local Wilko's. They have offered to get some sent in from Fareham or Boscombe but given the level of staff torpor there I've pretty much given up on that happening. I did ask Babcia to be on the lookout for it in our malignant Northern hometown but now I've found it myself she can cross that off her list of jobs. Are Stardrops more of a Northern thing, like patties and savoury ducks do you think?
The only problem I have now is where to store them - at the frequency I do my housework they'll be there a loooong time!!
Apologies to anybody on the South Coast who is looking for Stardrops but when I tracked down nine bottles (all they had) on the shelf of Poundstretcher I had to buy them all - who knows when I might find some again? To those who haven't used it before Stardrops is the apex of cleaning fluids, making any and all household tasks a breeze! (O dear....looking at old knitting patterns yesterday has made me talk like a 50s housefrau!!). I first heard about Stardrops on moneysavingexpert.com and when I saw it in Wilkos I thought I'd try it. I've gone through a couple bottles since then and it's become harder and harder to find it. It's not been available for ages in my local Sainsburys or Asda; they've heard of it but don't sell it at Clarence Hardware (just about THE best hardware store in the world...you know, the kind where all the prices are handwritten and you can buy a single screw?); and like I said, it's not stocked at my local Wilko's. They have offered to get some sent in from Fareham or Boscombe but given the level of staff torpor there I've pretty much given up on that happening. I did ask Babcia to be on the lookout for it in our malignant Northern hometown but now I've found it myself she can cross that off her list of jobs. Are Stardrops more of a Northern thing, like patties and savoury ducks do you think?
The only problem I have now is where to store them - at the frequency I do my housework they'll be there a loooong time!!
Wednesday, 25 May 2011
Sussed!!!
I discovered this old knitting pattern in a charity shop today and finally realised what Babcia had been doing whilst I was at Grandma's house....
Her modelling days (in the middle)...
...and her real life as a meek and mild wife and daughter-in-law. She hated being skinny back then because it wasn't the norm at all. People used to say she was so thin that she could dodge the raindrops on a stormy day. She had a 22" waist and a concave chest when she brought me home from hospital, whereas I was probably 22" around the top of my arm when I brought Mr Charming home from the maternity suite. She gradually put on a little more weight but when Twiggy came along a few years later and was feted for her boyish figure it was a bitter pill for Babcia to swallow. I don't believe she has ever got over it...
Her modelling days (in the middle)...
Thursday, 28 April 2011
Cook's Weekly
At a car boot sale last year I bought 50 copies of Cook's Weekly magazine for £2. They all date from the mid-80s and I wanted them because I remember reading Babcia's copies of this (and another magazine from the same era called 'Home and Freezer Digest' - anybody remember that?). I wrote yesterday about finding old stuff from my younger days comforting didn't I? And also I hoped I might find some frugal ideas and recipes between their pages, which I did.
I don't know whether it's something to do with the printing processes in the 80s but everything looks strangely garish and not particularly appetising (one way of being frugal I guess - nothing looks good enough to eat). And I don't remember there being such a reliance on offal either...Chinese-Style Liver anyone?
It's interesting to see how ideas that we take for granted nowadays were just starting to be mooted 25 years ago - there's an article in the December 86 issue that talks about sugar-free items and mentions that research suggests 'a hyperactive child will benefit from a diet low in sugar'. But in November 86 there was a section on cooking for a 'Difficult-People Dinner Party'. The 'difficult people' in question are vegans (who did you think it was going to be???!) and the suggested menu is Carrot and Bean Pate, Curried Vegetables and Ginger and Cashew Nut Ice Cream in case you're interested....
I was quite surprised to see an article on fillings for tacos because I wouldn't have thought Mexican food was all that common back then, certainly not in our neck of the woods anyway!
Each issue also has 'A Run Down The Aisles' which gives supermarkets' prices for various different items...I'm assuming these were current special offers. Co-Op was selling 500g plus 20% free Buitoni Short Spaghetti for 39p and Bird's Whisk and Serve Custard at 19p for 69g. I don't know about you but that's what I'd pay now for those items (though not those brands) in Asda or Lidl. The prices given for Tesco show a far bigger change over the years; for example Wall's Pork and Turkey Sausages were just 79p for 1lb plus 25% extra, whilst Tesco Golden Almond Marzipan was 97p for 500g. I think I paid more than double that for Sainsbury's own brand when I made my Simnel Cake a couple weeks back. And do you remember Fine Fare stores, and Bejam?
Despite some of the recipes being a bit odd (Avocado Mille-Feuille! Bacon-Stuffed Celery! Life's too short to stuff a mushroom so it's DEFINITELY too short to stuff a stick of celery!) these little magazines are packed with hints, tips and good ideas. I found out how to make Sloe Gin, how to boil a tongue, and how to skin a rabbit. For a good laugh there is the 'Memorable Meals' section where a famous person of the day describes their most memorable meal; what they like to cook and where they like to eat. Some I'd totally forgotten about (Debbie Greenwood? Mavis Nicholson?) but here's one famous face who is still around today...
Little did he know that his destiny was to one day be 'King of the Jungle'!!!
I don't know whether it's something to do with the printing processes in the 80s but everything looks strangely garish and not particularly appetising (one way of being frugal I guess - nothing looks good enough to eat). And I don't remember there being such a reliance on offal either...Chinese-Style Liver anyone?
It's interesting to see how ideas that we take for granted nowadays were just starting to be mooted 25 years ago - there's an article in the December 86 issue that talks about sugar-free items and mentions that research suggests 'a hyperactive child will benefit from a diet low in sugar'. But in November 86 there was a section on cooking for a 'Difficult-People Dinner Party'. The 'difficult people' in question are vegans (who did you think it was going to be???!) and the suggested menu is Carrot and Bean Pate, Curried Vegetables and Ginger and Cashew Nut Ice Cream in case you're interested....
I was quite surprised to see an article on fillings for tacos because I wouldn't have thought Mexican food was all that common back then, certainly not in our neck of the woods anyway!
Each issue also has 'A Run Down The Aisles' which gives supermarkets' prices for various different items...I'm assuming these were current special offers. Co-Op was selling 500g plus 20% free Buitoni Short Spaghetti for 39p and Bird's Whisk and Serve Custard at 19p for 69g. I don't know about you but that's what I'd pay now for those items (though not those brands) in Asda or Lidl. The prices given for Tesco show a far bigger change over the years; for example Wall's Pork and Turkey Sausages were just 79p for 1lb plus 25% extra, whilst Tesco Golden Almond Marzipan was 97p for 500g. I think I paid more than double that for Sainsbury's own brand when I made my Simnel Cake a couple weeks back. And do you remember Fine Fare stores, and Bejam?
Despite some of the recipes being a bit odd (Avocado Mille-Feuille! Bacon-Stuffed Celery! Life's too short to stuff a mushroom so it's DEFINITELY too short to stuff a stick of celery!) these little magazines are packed with hints, tips and good ideas. I found out how to make Sloe Gin, how to boil a tongue, and how to skin a rabbit. For a good laugh there is the 'Memorable Meals' section where a famous person of the day describes their most memorable meal; what they like to cook and where they like to eat. Some I'd totally forgotten about (Debbie Greenwood? Mavis Nicholson?) but here's one famous face who is still around today...
Little did he know that his destiny was to one day be 'King of the Jungle'!!!
Wednesday, 27 April 2011
I Has New Pyrex!!!
For a long time I've been collecting Pyrex. At one stage you could make quite a bit of money from it on eBay but the bottom seems to have dropped out of the market a bit lately. Trends seem to come and go - for a while buyers paid a premium for Carnaby/Tempo pattern, then it was Chelsea. Chelsea still does okay - Autumn Gold/Autumn Glory had a flurry, but now it looks like June Rose and Cottage Rose are in the ascent. However, I don't go for any of those patterns. My favourites, as used by Babcia many years ago, are the Fruits/Vegetables/Fish variety. Not quite so commonplace but a bit funkier than the rest.
I bought this lovely oblong dish in a charity shop the other day. At £3.50 it was a bit more than I usually pay but I had to have it.
Look at that splendid lobster! This dish is about 10" by 7" I suppose and a good size for a Shepherd's Pie or stuff like that. The only problem is that I have one just the same, with lid, in June Rose....and I don't need two. So I'll be eBaying the Rose one when I stop procrastinating and start listing again. Soon, my darlings....soon.
Any other Pyrex fans out there? I also love Gooseberry and Clover and have some beautiful big mixing bowls in those designs. There is a pretty good website here if you have any unidentified Pyrex lurking in your cupboards. I'm not a collector as such but I like using cool old stuff plus it reminds me of growing up. That's good, right?
PS Sad clown face tonight....Mr Charming is en route back to Cornwall and won't be home for five weeks. Only Big Man and Carb Addict left here now.
I bought this lovely oblong dish in a charity shop the other day. At £3.50 it was a bit more than I usually pay but I had to have it.
Look at that splendid lobster! This dish is about 10" by 7" I suppose and a good size for a Shepherd's Pie or stuff like that. The only problem is that I have one just the same, with lid, in June Rose....and I don't need two. So I'll be eBaying the Rose one when I stop procrastinating and start listing again. Soon, my darlings....soon.
Any other Pyrex fans out there? I also love Gooseberry and Clover and have some beautiful big mixing bowls in those designs. There is a pretty good website here if you have any unidentified Pyrex lurking in your cupboards. I'm not a collector as such but I like using cool old stuff plus it reminds me of growing up. That's good, right?
PS Sad clown face tonight....Mr Charming is en route back to Cornwall and won't be home for five weeks. Only Big Man and Carb Addict left here now.
Tuesday, 19 April 2011
A Visit From The Met
We had a visitor last weekend, Red's latest love PC Furious. He is a PCSO with the Met and rather officious. On their first date there was a very strong smell of weed in the pub they were in and PC Furious was all for finding out who was smoking it then making a citizen's arrest. He's that type of chap. This was only his second visit here and last time he came he said as he was leaving 'thank you for letting me stay in your cold house'. Although I'd be the first to admit it is cold here I was quite put out...it was Winter after all and I'd made him sleep in the loft, what did he expect? Still he's harmless I suppose and Red has him right where she wants him so I'll reserve judgement a little longer.
In other news my family has shrunk to four because Red has returned to London, supposedly just until Sunday when Mr Charming is 19. I asked why she was going back at all, just for four days and she said 'because it's only £4'. Do you ever feel as if people are speaking a different language or one that makes no sense whatsoever to you? It's normally me that gets asked 'what are you talking about?'
Phase 1 of the census collecting has ended now and before Phase 2 starts on Thursday I have a totally guilt-free evening and day - no work at the Dragon's Den tomorrow! - so I am going to take full advantage by knitting and watching all the shows I've Sky+'d tonight and then chilling and doing a few small bits tomorrow. Babcia and I are still building up our stock for our Etsy shop but I hope to have it up and running soon. I'll post a pic of an item of our stock soon so you can all give me your opinions. But don't be too critical...I'm easily bruised. I bought some lovely wool for Babcia (she's 67 on Friday) so hopefully she'll get cracking on even more sweet things.
Off for a nice lazy night x
In other news my family has shrunk to four because Red has returned to London, supposedly just until Sunday when Mr Charming is 19. I asked why she was going back at all, just for four days and she said 'because it's only £4'. Do you ever feel as if people are speaking a different language or one that makes no sense whatsoever to you? It's normally me that gets asked 'what are you talking about?'
Phase 1 of the census collecting has ended now and before Phase 2 starts on Thursday I have a totally guilt-free evening and day - no work at the Dragon's Den tomorrow! - so I am going to take full advantage by knitting and watching all the shows I've Sky+'d tonight and then chilling and doing a few small bits tomorrow. Babcia and I are still building up our stock for our Etsy shop but I hope to have it up and running soon. I'll post a pic of an item of our stock soon so you can all give me your opinions. But don't be too critical...I'm easily bruised. I bought some lovely wool for Babcia (she's 67 on Friday) so hopefully she'll get cracking on even more sweet things.
Off for a nice lazy night x
Monday, 28 March 2011
Whatever Happened to Wonder Woman?
I hope that nobody reads this post and hates me for it but I've got to get it off my chest....how did some women become such wimps?
I ask because today I read a letter in a Sunday magazine agony column. A woman wrote to say that her husband, whose job is in jeopardy following redundancies, has for the last nine months been working away from home during the week. The possibility is that this will continue for another six months or year. She has one 2 year old and is pregnant. She says that he likes to see his friends at the weekends when he comes home (I wonder why?), that they argue and 'he feels guilty when I bring up how lonely I am.....he does miss us'.
Am I a complete cow to think that she should maybe grow a pair; be thankful her husband has a job; and stop laying such a guilt trip on him when he comes home after a week working away? I guess I must be because the agony aunt starts by saying 'This could not have happened at a worse time - when you have young children you really do need your husband around'. Erm....what about suggesting that she concentrates on making their home a great place to be in when he comes home so that he won't want to go out with his pals; that she stops moaning and telling him how lonely she feels (because he isn't lonely in a strange town away from his family, is he?); that she cherishes her little child and looks forward to her new baby, and the time they'll all spend together in the future; that nothing lasts forever and for now SHE is the constant in her son's life and he needs her to stop drooping around?
I'm sorry but this lack of moral fibre really bugs me. Believe me, I know from personal experience that life can be tough when you're trying to cope on your own - I'm the daughter of a trawler skipper (three weeks in Iceland or Greenland or the Barents Sea, three days at home, repeat ad infinitum - the most perilous job of all) and the wife of a submariner who left for a six month tour of duty the day I brought Red home from hospital. In those days there were no emails, no phone calls...when boats went on 'sneakies' you could send two separate 40-word familygrams during the trip, that was all. My dad didn't see any of his kids being born, Big Man saw two out of three. These were tough men doing hard jobs and they needed their wives to match them in backbone and resilience. They needed to go to work knowing that someone was holding the fort at home. We had three children under three, Big Man was either under the sea or living in barracks in Plymouth whilst we lived where we live now, 140 miles away. Neither sides of the family within 200 miles and I worked full-time too. Hard but not as bad as it was for Babcia who did have her (admittedly crazy) mother nearby but also had the worry every waking moment of hearing on the news that a trawler was missing. Nowadays women marry soldiers and live in fear of the knock on the door but they keep going, they have to. Someone has to hold things together for when the men come home again. Isn't that what a partnership is?
P.S. Are strong, feisty females born or made? Discuss.
I ask because today I read a letter in a Sunday magazine agony column. A woman wrote to say that her husband, whose job is in jeopardy following redundancies, has for the last nine months been working away from home during the week. The possibility is that this will continue for another six months or year. She has one 2 year old and is pregnant. She says that he likes to see his friends at the weekends when he comes home (I wonder why?), that they argue and 'he feels guilty when I bring up how lonely I am.....he does miss us'.
Am I a complete cow to think that she should maybe grow a pair; be thankful her husband has a job; and stop laying such a guilt trip on him when he comes home after a week working away? I guess I must be because the agony aunt starts by saying 'This could not have happened at a worse time - when you have young children you really do need your husband around'. Erm....what about suggesting that she concentrates on making their home a great place to be in when he comes home so that he won't want to go out with his pals; that she stops moaning and telling him how lonely she feels (because he isn't lonely in a strange town away from his family, is he?); that she cherishes her little child and looks forward to her new baby, and the time they'll all spend together in the future; that nothing lasts forever and for now SHE is the constant in her son's life and he needs her to stop drooping around?
I'm sorry but this lack of moral fibre really bugs me. Believe me, I know from personal experience that life can be tough when you're trying to cope on your own - I'm the daughter of a trawler skipper (three weeks in Iceland or Greenland or the Barents Sea, three days at home, repeat ad infinitum - the most perilous job of all) and the wife of a submariner who left for a six month tour of duty the day I brought Red home from hospital. In those days there were no emails, no phone calls...when boats went on 'sneakies' you could send two separate 40-word familygrams during the trip, that was all. My dad didn't see any of his kids being born, Big Man saw two out of three. These were tough men doing hard jobs and they needed their wives to match them in backbone and resilience. They needed to go to work knowing that someone was holding the fort at home. We had three children under three, Big Man was either under the sea or living in barracks in Plymouth whilst we lived where we live now, 140 miles away. Neither sides of the family within 200 miles and I worked full-time too. Hard but not as bad as it was for Babcia who did have her (admittedly crazy) mother nearby but also had the worry every waking moment of hearing on the news that a trawler was missing. Nowadays women marry soldiers and live in fear of the knock on the door but they keep going, they have to. Someone has to hold things together for when the men come home again. Isn't that what a partnership is?
Of course you could say that I and Babcia and all the Forces wives of today knew what we were getting ourselves into when we met and married these men. That's true - Big Man was a matelot when I met him and my dad was a decky learner fresh off the boat train when he came across Babcia. However 70 years ago thousands and thousands of women didn't intentionally marry servicemen but ended up with them anyway. Some were apart for years, each not knowing whether the other survived, bringing up children their husbands had never seen, working hard in factories, risking their own lives on airfields and army bases - keeping the Home Front going in other words. Strong, capable, resilient women who suffered the hard times because they knew their husbands were having a pretty cruddy time too, and because they hoped their sacrifices would bring better times. I think that's what some women today can't or don't want to understand. That if you can support each other and stand together, even though you're apart for a while, then you're paving the way for the good times to come. You have each other. And, maybe, a whole lot of self-respect.
Works for me.
Saturday, 12 March 2011
Oh Plan B! Find Some Better Dancers!
Last night I went to the O2 with Red to see Plan B. After the fiasco with Babcia's coach and returning to work I didn't really feel like going but I'd had the tickets for ages so I forced myself. Also one of Red's pals was coming with me as she's been a fan for ages and I couldn't let her down.
We almost didn't make it onto the coach (and a psychologist might say this was subconscious self-sabotage, or subconscious identification with Babcia's experience, or as Red, my psychology student daughter said 'because you're crackers') because I left the coach tickets on the table. I realised I didn't have them before Big Man drove away and I sent him haring off in the car the two minutes away to the house. In the interim the driver told me I could get the ticket reprinted in the coach station if I knew the number. The number!! On my phone was the email confirmation and after showing it to the staff I got a new ticket printed and jumped on the coach. It pulled out as Big Man drove up, tooting the horn madly and waving the ticket. I just had time to give him the thumbs up as we drove off.
Plan B was excellent, fantastic really. The sound was great and we were pretty near the front. If you've heard of Plan B - Ben Drew as his mum calls him - you'll know he released a soul/rap album last year called 'The Defamation of Strickland Banks'. I suppose he thought it was a good idea, since he has a soul sound, to have some dancers on stage doing some....well, it's almost sacrilege to call what they were doing Northern Soul dancing but I think that's what it was meant to be.
Now you all know that I'm a transplanted Northerner of many years and back when I was growing up in my particularly malignant Northern city, Northern Soul was the only show in town. I appreciate that it's not to everybody's taste - Big Man can't stand it, Red loves it, I really, really love it - and it's not soul like, say, Aretha or James Brown...it's a very specific era, a very specific sound and a VERY specific style of dancing. Read about it here if you're at all interested. And listen to this for some Northern Soul that isn't Soft Cell's version of Tainted Love...
We almost didn't make it onto the coach (and a psychologist might say this was subconscious self-sabotage, or subconscious identification with Babcia's experience, or as Red, my psychology student daughter said 'because you're crackers') because I left the coach tickets on the table. I realised I didn't have them before Big Man drove away and I sent him haring off in the car the two minutes away to the house. In the interim the driver told me I could get the ticket reprinted in the coach station if I knew the number. The number!! On my phone was the email confirmation and after showing it to the staff I got a new ticket printed and jumped on the coach. It pulled out as Big Man drove up, tooting the horn madly and waving the ticket. I just had time to give him the thumbs up as we drove off.
Now you all know that I'm a transplanted Northerner of many years and back when I was growing up in my particularly malignant Northern city, Northern Soul was the only show in town. I appreciate that it's not to everybody's taste - Big Man can't stand it, Red loves it, I really, really love it - and it's not soul like, say, Aretha or James Brown...it's a very specific era, a very specific sound and a VERY specific style of dancing. Read about it here if you're at all interested. And listen to this for some Northern Soul that isn't Soft Cell's version of Tainted Love...
Anyway, back to the dancers. God love 'em, I was mortified for them, especially the girls, most of whom looked like they'd watched a YouTube tutorial for a couple of minutes. There are lots of spins, flips and so on in Northern Soul dancing and one girl in particular kept on doing these wild spins and ending in the kind of pose that Bruce Forsyth used to do at the start of the Generation Game, a bit like Rodin's 'The Thinker'. It was shameful really, to think how much money must have been spent on putting the show on then spoiling it with such crummy dancers. Actually, there was one guy who was not bad - he looked old enough to have been at Wigan Casino back in the day - but they were really just kids. My uncle Al was a regular Casino-goer in the '70s (I was a bit too young and Babcia way too paranoid for me to have gone) and he would have laughed his socks off if he'd seen last night's performance. Watch this for a little taste of Wigan Casino...fantastic moves.
So Mr Drew, Music - A+...Dancing - Epic Fail!
Oh, and I've decided that, since it's unlikely that Joe Strummer will ever be brought back to life, last night'll probably be the last gig I'll go to. Felt too small amongst the tall youngsters!
Wednesday, 9 March 2011
Granny Takes A Trip!
Hello again! I've been away for a little while whilst my lovely mum was here on holiday but I'm back now. It's so nice to have her to stay because I don't see her that often, me being in the beautiful South whilst she lives in the particularly malignant Northern city from whence we hail. We usually go on lots of trips, madly charity shopping, when she visits and this time was no different. A little more difficult now I don't have a car - I had to wait until Big Man came home from work at lunchtime before we could go anywhere further than walking distance - but we managed to have some nice days and the weather stayed good too. I always spend more money than I should when Babcia comes to visit and this time was no exception but I only got stuff that I think I can turn a good profit on. Babcia also brought some stock for our Etsy shop. It's not quite up and running yet but it should be soon.
We went to the local car boot sale on Sunday, arriving quite late really, not til about 11:00. Some stall holders had already left but that didn't stop us getting some great bargains, the best one of which was a canopy for an old coach-built Silver Cross pram. Babcia has been after one of these for ages because she has one of the prams that she takes my niece and nephew out in.
These prams are fierce expensive and so are the canopies, the vintage ones. Babcia bought hers at the car booty, unused, still in its box, for....(drum roll)....£5!!!! What a bargain. Sometimes people don't really know what they have when they're selling it, do they? The only problem was that Babcia was going to have to carry it on the coach all the way home. When Granny took her trip!
Big Man drove Babcia to the coach station at 8:10 for her 8:40 coach. At 8:45 the phone rang. Babcia had missed the coach! She changes at Birmingham but the coach carries on to Edinburgh. For some reason she had it in her head that the coach would say Birmingham on the front so when it said Edinburgh she didn't think it was hers. It waited around for a while after 8:40, obviously for her, and when she didn't get on it it went. She asked the staff if the coach to Birmingham was late and they said 'that's it, just left!' Major panic. Babcia nearly in tears on the phone. I had to belt down to the station because I couldn't leave her upset on her own. She got another coach three hours later and has, thankfully, made it in one piece. Who knows what was going on in her mind? She has made the identical journey at least 15 times with no trouble.
Babcia is 66.
PS..in case you're wondering, Babcia is Polish for Granny.
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