I've given up bread for Jesus. For lent this year I have looked at my daily indulgence and find the one thing that plays a big role in my diet is bread. It's something I (funnily enough) have daily, so I've skipped that line in the Lord's prayer so I'm not led into temptation.
Giving up the sauce would be better but just not workable, I attend too many functions and I would fall at the first hurdle or pop of the champagne cork. So it's bread in all its guises that's been given the heave ho.
26 February, 2009
25 February, 2009
Fleeting glances
To the Roundhouse last night to see Fleet Foxes, well to be honest I didn't see much of them because it was a complete sell out and I had standing tickets so for the business end of the concert I was staring and being rammed by other people's business ends. They were exceptionally good and a finer live sound I have never heard - except Eddi Reader of course.
As it was the hottest ticket in town last night I expected a few celebs to be peppered in the audience. The only two I saw however was the Times tv critic Caitlin Moran and BBC regional news presenter Mike Ramsden it was hardly the brace I had in mind, no rubbing shoulders with Marianne Faithful cradling a slimline tonic for me.
I was a very lucky girl leaving the gig however, I was caught by the cops for a misdemeanor in Regents Park. I was let go with a slap on the wrist - after a rubber gloved search - and am left now with a lasting impression and nothing but admiration for the police.
As it was the hottest ticket in town last night I expected a few celebs to be peppered in the audience. The only two I saw however was the Times tv critic Caitlin Moran and BBC regional news presenter Mike Ramsden it was hardly the brace I had in mind, no rubbing shoulders with Marianne Faithful cradling a slimline tonic for me.
I was a very lucky girl leaving the gig however, I was caught by the cops for a misdemeanor in Regents Park. I was let go with a slap on the wrist - after a rubber gloved search - and am left now with a lasting impression and nothing but admiration for the police.
23 February, 2009
Frankly Mr Shankly
Oscar winner Danny Boyle looks more like Morrissey than Morrissey does himself these days.
17 February, 2009
On the buses
Got the bus this morning and was taken aback. The driver was English. Now, before you scream Chakrabarti! Chakrabarti! I'm not being racist - some of my best friends are of an Eastern european extraction - it was just a bit of a shock to ask for the stop that I wanted and it being understood. I wondered to myself if this was the start of the mass exodus back to Poland? It certainly was nice to have the English chap drive for a change for two reasons, one he did not drive at breakneck speed and two, the bus was decently late, only five or ten minutes - just enough time for a scone and ginger beer instead of a flask of bloody borscht.
13 February, 2009
Yes chef!
I happened to watch Master Chef the other night. I'm not keen. I watched it a few years back when it first started back again but was turned off immediately. We should be trying to teach our children to eat properly and that Toad man sets a bad example, it turns my tummy to watch him shovel a spoonful in. Not only have we a nation of latchkey children but a nation of laptray ones and the presenters of masterchef certainly wont get the family back around the table.Anyway, I digress, what shocked me the most about Masterchef 2009 is how it has progressed from being a slightly more high brow version of Ready Steady Cook to something more resembling the X Factor - one could almost call it "Pot Idol"
"It means everything to me", "Cooking is my life" "It's all I've ever wanted to do" oh dearie me, where have we heard these words before?
And what is this food anyway? can you imagine me serving up froth for the wife? No, no, no.
12 February, 2009
1000!
This is my 1000th post- yay! But the sad fact is I am devastated. I have had the most dreadful dream. I was married to Hugh FW which under normal circumstances would be a lovely experience, I would be a free range organic bird trotting off to the shops with a blank cheque book but in my dream he was a brute of a man. He caught me straining strawberries by the Aga and my dear readers that was it. I fought back bravely and I shouted that "I'm bored here, you wont let me do anything!" and then I woke up.
Last night the wife and I tried to buy some Bach flower rescue remedy in Tesco, the shelves were clear which I took to be a sharp indicator of how far the Recession Depression had hit. The shoppers in my local Tesco are normally a chipper bunch but clearly things were on the fritz.
The rescue remedy is supposed to chill you out and help in times of anxiety but the label is wrapped around the bottle so you can't see inside. Thing is, you don't know how much you have got left so you are in a constant state of worry that it's just about to run out - if anything is going to get your knickers in a twist then that will.
11 February, 2009
Have you seen this man?
Peculiar day. I stood at the bus stop this morning and it were as if I had been given a new pair of spectacles because everything seemed so vivid and - dare I say it - beautiful. I was listening to some of my 'housey, housey' music and I looked up into the air at one of the more uplifting movements and a murder of crows streamed over head, it would have brought a tear to my eye were it not for the fact that I am terribly cold hearted.
As I stepped off of the bus (that was late, but no matter) the bus shelter had been messed up with graffiti but instead of my customary 'tut' and resentment I marvelled at the use of purple on a dark green background - almost like the Wimbledon Tennis corporate colours.
Lunch was odd. Shanna and I drove to the local M&S choosing the back roads to avoid traffic and as we weaved our way into the back of the retail park (no swings and slides here though kids) we felt as though we had arrived on a crime re-enactment scene. A young girl was walking with a ruck sack (probably to her death) a BMW raced in front of us and builders straight out of central casting toyed with their lorries, all it needed was an old lady to walk out with a shopping trolley and a yap yap dog and we would be there. It was most peculiar. It was almost too normal to be real.
As I stepped off of the bus (that was late, but no matter) the bus shelter had been messed up with graffiti but instead of my customary 'tut' and resentment I marvelled at the use of purple on a dark green background - almost like the Wimbledon Tennis corporate colours.
Lunch was odd. Shanna and I drove to the local M&S choosing the back roads to avoid traffic and as we weaved our way into the back of the retail park (no swings and slides here though kids) we felt as though we had arrived on a crime re-enactment scene. A young girl was walking with a ruck sack (probably to her death) a BMW raced in front of us and builders straight out of central casting toyed with their lorries, all it needed was an old lady to walk out with a shopping trolley and a yap yap dog and we would be there. It was most peculiar. It was almost too normal to be real.
10 February, 2009
Who do you think you are?
I’ve been a bit off radar recently because I’ve been climbing my family tree and to be honest I’m a bit stuck up in one of the branches. I’ve joined genesreunited and am trying to hack back and find my ancestors. There’s been no pots of gold yet, no royal blood or notorious criminas (not strictly true but I’m keeping schtum) but I daresay it’s just a matter of time.
And it really is ‘time’. To track people you need to look at the Census reports which were taken every ten years. The 1911 one has just been released and us geneologists have been at it like frenzied piranhas.
My Grandfather Bertie Burnham (what a fab name) managed to marry, have three kids and move to the next street in a decade and it made me wonder how much I have done since 1999......not a huge amount.
What’s great about all this ‘who do you think you are’ stuff is that lots of people have already done the hard work, as I’ve come a bit late to the party great swathes of my tree have been completed so I can just copy and paste – it’s a virtual bloody leylandii.
And it really is ‘time’. To track people you need to look at the Census reports which were taken every ten years. The 1911 one has just been released and us geneologists have been at it like frenzied piranhas.
My Grandfather Bertie Burnham (what a fab name) managed to marry, have three kids and move to the next street in a decade and it made me wonder how much I have done since 1999......not a huge amount.
What’s great about all this ‘who do you think you are’ stuff is that lots of people have already done the hard work, as I’ve come a bit late to the party great swathes of my tree have been completed so I can just copy and paste – it’s a virtual bloody leylandii.
