25 October, 2006
22 October, 2006
Bit of a change to the plans this weekend. We started out on our journey to Eastbourne on Friday but the motorway was so choca blocka we turned home after an hour and a half, we hadn't even reached Heathrow, so it was a no go.
To make up for it the Ladyfriend and I decided to go up to the big smoke on Saturday and take a look at the 250 anniversary year celebrations of Borough Market. It was billed as a day of cavorting in period costume, trouble was it was so packed with 'foodies' it was completely indigestable, we were packed in like sardines so we were out of there like a shot. Shame really, I blame Jamie Oliver.
There are some photos here if you are interested in that kind of thing: click here
To make up for it the Ladyfriend and I decided to go up to the big smoke on Saturday and take a look at the 250 anniversary year celebrations of Borough Market. It was billed as a day of cavorting in period costume, trouble was it was so packed with 'foodies' it was completely indigestable, we were packed in like sardines so we were out of there like a shot. Shame really, I blame Jamie Oliver.
There are some photos here if you are interested in that kind of thing: click here
17 October, 2006
The F Word indeed
I am sick to the stomach, literally, of Gordon Ramsay. Is there nothing that man won't say yes to? He's in every tv programme going, DVD's, Books, magazines, dinner plates, I even saw a larger than life size cut out of the man in the window of Threshers! Stop. Enough. The man would even turning up at the opening of a fridge....
What annoys me the most though is that he has made some nasty comments about Jamie Oliver in the past and now old scar face is stamping his name on anything going, even his wife is getting in on the act....sound familiar?
By the way, I'm now being serialised on the Country Living website today!
www.countryliving.co.uk
What annoys me the most though is that he has made some nasty comments about Jamie Oliver in the past and now old scar face is stamping his name on anything going, even his wife is getting in on the act....sound familiar?
By the way, I'm now being serialised on the Country Living website today!
www.countryliving.co.uk
16 October, 2006
Well there I was yesterday afternoon driving through the countryside coming back from the municipal dump where I offloaded splintered bits of kitchen and general household rubbish, I noticed a sign for a Farm Shop. Being a 'shop local' type of lass with ideas of chomping on peculiar sounding apples and gnawing on a tuber fresh from the soil I followed the signs with gusto (and the ladyfriend)
I walked into the farmyard where I couldn't move for poultry, they were free range more by accident than design, the place had an air of neglect. I found the shed/shop and walked in. Inside not only did I find the shelves groaning but also the shop keeper, her head was bent over the lollo rosso. "Are you open?" I asked "hrruuummmmph" was the reply. I began to 'browse' and she went out of the door. It felt nice to be trusted so I picked up a loaf of bread and some preserves. I was ready to pay.......but where was the lady?
After a few strained minutes where I didn't know wether to scarper I walked out and popped my head around a larger shed door. She was in there hacking at something with a HUGE knife, a sheep dog joined me and rubbed my leg with its wet coat.
Then I saw a young man coming from the farmhouse "Coo Eee" I said and mouthed "can I pay please?" I returned to the shop.
A minute or two passed and then SHE came back shouting "get out, get out!" I was mortified until I realised she was keeping the dog from coming in.
I thought at first she had had a stroke as she limped in and nearly went over "Are you ok?" I said I leaned closer and then I realised she was blind drunk, really, really drunk.
She looked at my shopping and tapped the numbers in the till one number at a time circling the digits with her index finger as she focused. She gave me my change with a bloodied hand. I declined a bag.
I walked into the farmyard where I couldn't move for poultry, they were free range more by accident than design, the place had an air of neglect. I found the shed/shop and walked in. Inside not only did I find the shelves groaning but also the shop keeper, her head was bent over the lollo rosso. "Are you open?" I asked "hrruuummmmph" was the reply. I began to 'browse' and she went out of the door. It felt nice to be trusted so I picked up a loaf of bread and some preserves. I was ready to pay.......but where was the lady?
After a few strained minutes where I didn't know wether to scarper I walked out and popped my head around a larger shed door. She was in there hacking at something with a HUGE knife, a sheep dog joined me and rubbed my leg with its wet coat.
Then I saw a young man coming from the farmhouse "Coo Eee" I said and mouthed "can I pay please?" I returned to the shop.
A minute or two passed and then SHE came back shouting "get out, get out!" I was mortified until I realised she was keeping the dog from coming in.
I thought at first she had had a stroke as she limped in and nearly went over "Are you ok?" I said I leaned closer and then I realised she was blind drunk, really, really drunk.
She looked at my shopping and tapped the numbers in the till one number at a time circling the digits with her index finger as she focused. She gave me my change with a bloodied hand. I declined a bag.
13 October, 2006
Tout for Lola
The good news, I was through like a greyhound out of the traps this morning and managed to buy three tickets for the Morrissey concert in December. The bad news, I was too hasty and my handsome big brother and his beautiful wife might not be able to come with me. I may be reduced to hawking them all on ebay. What will become of me? I'm not a natural shop keeper, what if there are complications? Shoplifters of the World unite and all that.
10 October, 2006
Watched the BBC ruin Robin Hood on Saturday, it was the pits. They've dumbed down the jolly tale, sexed up the story and ruined the plot. It wasn't broken, why fix it? let's hope they don't decide to 'do' King Arthur, they'll have him living on benefits in a hostel in Wolverhampton - all filmed in Eastern Europe by the way. What's wrong with Burnham Beeches? or better still Nottingham Forest.
The casting, Robin looks like one of those boys who are big for their age who smoke, spit and swear outside the doors of the corner shop. Marion looked like Vikki Pollard in full slap AND Keith Allen (who I can never forgive for bringing us Lily Allen - is it just me or does she have Downs Syndrome?) was terrible.
If I were ITV I'd bring back their version quick smartish and show them how its done. Robin, Robin, the hooded man, da da da dum. Oooh it was great.
The casting, Robin looks like one of those boys who are big for their age who smoke, spit and swear outside the doors of the corner shop. Marion looked like Vikki Pollard in full slap AND Keith Allen (who I can never forgive for bringing us Lily Allen - is it just me or does she have Downs Syndrome?) was terrible.
If I were ITV I'd bring back their version quick smartish and show them how its done. Robin, Robin, the hooded man, da da da dum. Oooh it was great.
06 October, 2006
Walls have ears
I havn't been much of a chatty Cathy of late, I've kept schtum. It hasn't stopped my thoughts or the voices in my head, was it something that I said? Am I Gloria, I'm always on the run now. Apparently hearing voices in your head is normal. Got to go, got nothing to say of any merit, I'm a bit like one of those boats at an amusement park where you put a pound in the slot and drive them round a stagnent pool. I'm the green one that no one wants which is stuck nose to the corner next to the floating fag butt. It's not a bad thing.