Gnawing, throbbing at the best of times, persistently there.
I'm passed trying to work out which particular tooth is the culprit, half a dozen at least have joined in.
I've brushed and flossed and used those little coloured brushes to get between the teeth.
I've gargled with warm salt water and he who should never has peeled me down from the ceiling.
I've gargled with Glenfiddich....but i swallowed that!
Ok i've done a naughty thing....i've used mr H's antibiotics, the ones the quack gave him to keep just in case his elbow swelled up again.
and I'm on 4 hourly aspirin alternated with paracetemol. The chemist said that would be ok for a couple of days.....dentist i hope on Tuesday.
I never take tablets, but i'm in so much pain, rattling might take my mind off it.
Saturday, 31 May 2008
Thursday, 29 May 2008
Lambs Heart
Yes this is another vegetarians turn away post.
Bought 6 lambs hearts for £1.10
Zills said she'd tasted oxe tongue and it was good, liked liver and bacon, but what was ofal and why was it offal? .....awful?
If we were going to kill animals for meat to cook and put on our table, surely we should be eating most if not all of the animal?
When i was a littlie, we used to have lambs hearts, stuffed and braised for a goodly long time, served with a pile of mash and veg and mint sauce....it was one of my favourite meals.
It's the heart thing i think....love and all that sort of squishy stuff.....emotions.
How come it's ok to eat shoulder or leg of lamb, but mention a heart and everyone is running away?
Ok, so I've bought the hearts...what the hell do you do with them?
The daddie is snoring and probably farting the bed chambre out, the boys are a'kip and the girls are watching "educating rita" on the box....it's late and i have to deal the hearts!
Taking a good gulp of red, i place the hearts on the block....yes i know, these were the organs hard at work pumping blood around those darling creatures that jump and spring on new years grass.
I make an incision with a sharp knife, cutting away the main artery, and then push the hearts inside out, stuffing them with bedcrumbs, onions, lemon zest and rosemary, salt and pepper...I have an audiance.....uugh says bigmacs....wow says zills.
I place them in a deep dish with lots of onions and a dash of red from my glass...ok i'm not that generous... but it adds to the colour, a goodly amount of water and covered with ali foil they are stashed for the night in the bottom oven of the aga.
"Hey big D we are having lambs hearts for dinner" says Zills with glee as he tucks into his breakfast.....looking green he turns to me, hoping zills is having a joke.
They are served up, sliced in a rich sauce, with creamy mash and colourful veg and of course mint sauce.
Wonderful, a blast from the past and a delight for all except big macs, who secretly feeeds it to de man , the cat of cats.
Bought 6 lambs hearts for £1.10
Zills said she'd tasted oxe tongue and it was good, liked liver and bacon, but what was ofal and why was it offal? .....awful?
If we were going to kill animals for meat to cook and put on our table, surely we should be eating most if not all of the animal?
When i was a littlie, we used to have lambs hearts, stuffed and braised for a goodly long time, served with a pile of mash and veg and mint sauce....it was one of my favourite meals.
It's the heart thing i think....love and all that sort of squishy stuff.....emotions.
How come it's ok to eat shoulder or leg of lamb, but mention a heart and everyone is running away?
Ok, so I've bought the hearts...what the hell do you do with them?
The daddie is snoring and probably farting the bed chambre out, the boys are a'kip and the girls are watching "educating rita" on the box....it's late and i have to deal the hearts!
Taking a good gulp of red, i place the hearts on the block....yes i know, these were the organs hard at work pumping blood around those darling creatures that jump and spring on new years grass.
I make an incision with a sharp knife, cutting away the main artery, and then push the hearts inside out, stuffing them with bedcrumbs, onions, lemon zest and rosemary, salt and pepper...I have an audiance.....uugh says bigmacs....wow says zills.
I place them in a deep dish with lots of onions and a dash of red from my glass...ok i'm not that generous... but it adds to the colour, a goodly amount of water and covered with ali foil they are stashed for the night in the bottom oven of the aga.
"Hey big D we are having lambs hearts for dinner" says Zills with glee as he tucks into his breakfast.....looking green he turns to me, hoping zills is having a joke.
They are served up, sliced in a rich sauce, with creamy mash and colourful veg and of course mint sauce.
Wonderful, a blast from the past and a delight for all except big macs, who secretly feeeds it to de man , the cat of cats.
Trading in for a younger model
My father used to say to me "Shall i trade your mum in for a younger model?" It took me years to see the joke...she was 10 years younger than him and as for being a model, well she was quite a looker for her years.
It wasn't a marriage made in heaven, although i suspect there were some heavenly moments. Like me, she often found a motorbike in the kitchen, or something boiling in molli on the stove, something totally inedible!
There were demands for her to make something, not just babies, but a set of sails, including a spinnaker, or a bee hat. He had this sort of faith that she would innately know how to do something without ever having any basic training in the skills needed.
When i look back, it seems impossible that she make a set of sails. How could anyone expect such a thing?.....HE DID.
.....and she went to the library and got a few books out on the relevant subject, hired a hall to lay the canvas out, acquired the ingredients so to speak, and set to work.
I can see she must have loved him and his belief in her was so complete it swept her along on a tide of "can do".
He never said she ever let him down and i cannot see how she could have.
It was a tempestuous relationship, lots of laughing and joking and singing.....and then there would be anger and temper and he'd lift her up by her hair.
She would go and stay with friends or family.....i suspect until he'd said sorry and it wouldn't happen again......but of course it did.
Reading this, you would think that he was powerful and perhaps abused that power, but she ruled the house and especially the finances with a rod of iron. He rarely had money in his pocket, and certainly not to buy cigarettes or a beer. She kept a set of black books, in which she recorded every significant purchase.
They have been an endless source of amusement with the family and have settled many an argument about dresses or shoes and whether it had been fair or not.
Now he who should never and i, have had our ups and downs but it has always been a secret delight of mine to think he woud trade me in for a younger model.
I often think of him, up at the crack of dawn, walking the dog along the windswept coast, whilst a thin athletic younger woman joggs alongside him, chiding him to run, get fit, drink less. He longs for a bacon butty dripping with chilli sauce but she's a vegetarian and won' t have meat cooked in her kitchen. I visualize how long it would be before she hosed him down, or slept with the windows open in the freezing depths of winter. I could go on and on and be more specific but it's starting to get horrifying. Where i wonder would all the gg's go? not to mention their spare parts. Where would 150 axes and 50 skeins of hemp rope live..... in a little cottage by the sea?
Thinking about it....he rarely trades his vehicles in for younger models, usually older to ancient...perhaps he'll trade me in for an older model!
Bessie in the pub?........errr grim!
Think mr.H had better stick with me....I'm used to doing public service, sacrificing self for the greater good and all that.
Perhaps i could be a new super hero????
If i publish this, i think i'd better go out for the rest of the day, week, month, year!
LOVE YOU MR. H.
It wasn't a marriage made in heaven, although i suspect there were some heavenly moments. Like me, she often found a motorbike in the kitchen, or something boiling in molli on the stove, something totally inedible!
There were demands for her to make something, not just babies, but a set of sails, including a spinnaker, or a bee hat. He had this sort of faith that she would innately know how to do something without ever having any basic training in the skills needed.
When i look back, it seems impossible that she make a set of sails. How could anyone expect such a thing?.....HE DID.
.....and she went to the library and got a few books out on the relevant subject, hired a hall to lay the canvas out, acquired the ingredients so to speak, and set to work.
I can see she must have loved him and his belief in her was so complete it swept her along on a tide of "can do".
He never said she ever let him down and i cannot see how she could have.
It was a tempestuous relationship, lots of laughing and joking and singing.....and then there would be anger and temper and he'd lift her up by her hair.
She would go and stay with friends or family.....i suspect until he'd said sorry and it wouldn't happen again......but of course it did.
Reading this, you would think that he was powerful and perhaps abused that power, but she ruled the house and especially the finances with a rod of iron. He rarely had money in his pocket, and certainly not to buy cigarettes or a beer. She kept a set of black books, in which she recorded every significant purchase.
They have been an endless source of amusement with the family and have settled many an argument about dresses or shoes and whether it had been fair or not.
Now he who should never and i, have had our ups and downs but it has always been a secret delight of mine to think he woud trade me in for a younger model.
I often think of him, up at the crack of dawn, walking the dog along the windswept coast, whilst a thin athletic younger woman joggs alongside him, chiding him to run, get fit, drink less. He longs for a bacon butty dripping with chilli sauce but she's a vegetarian and won' t have meat cooked in her kitchen. I visualize how long it would be before she hosed him down, or slept with the windows open in the freezing depths of winter. I could go on and on and be more specific but it's starting to get horrifying. Where i wonder would all the gg's go? not to mention their spare parts. Where would 150 axes and 50 skeins of hemp rope live..... in a little cottage by the sea?
Thinking about it....he rarely trades his vehicles in for younger models, usually older to ancient...perhaps he'll trade me in for an older model!
Bessie in the pub?........errr grim!
Think mr.H had better stick with me....I'm used to doing public service, sacrificing self for the greater good and all that.
Perhaps i could be a new super hero????
If i publish this, i think i'd better go out for the rest of the day, week, month, year!
LOVE YOU MR. H.
Monday, 26 May 2008
Promises
I try not to promise anything these days. The harder you try not to do something....well,it's yet another unwritten law of human nature, someone somewhere is going to force the issue. A house full of kids and i'm a loser before i've started.
Grunt needs petrol for his motorbike, the little annoying one needs a lift to grans.....100miles away on a bank holiday,with a grand concert happening in town to celebrate WALES WINNING THE GRAND SLAM(sorry should have asked the Saes to turn away) and worse of all i have to be back in time to take the other littlies to the cinema.
Oh and he who should never has just told me we've got friends coming round this afternoon.
Splitting the atom was easypeasy.......anyone know how i can split me and be in three places at once!
To top it all i've got toothache, gnawing, persistent toothache, of the kind you'd happily cut your headoff with a blunt,rusty nail file if it would only make it STOP!
Yesterday i got through, admitedly a bit curtly, on a wave of paracetemol and Glenfiddich but i'm driving today.
Grunt needs petrol for his motorbike, the little annoying one needs a lift to grans.....100miles away on a bank holiday,with a grand concert happening in town to celebrate WALES WINNING THE GRAND SLAM(sorry should have asked the Saes to turn away) and worse of all i have to be back in time to take the other littlies to the cinema.
Oh and he who should never has just told me we've got friends coming round this afternoon.
Splitting the atom was easypeasy.......anyone know how i can split me and be in three places at once!
To top it all i've got toothache, gnawing, persistent toothache, of the kind you'd happily cut your headoff with a blunt,rusty nail file if it would only make it STOP!
Yesterday i got through, admitedly a bit curtly, on a wave of paracetemol and Glenfiddich but i'm driving today.
Sunday, 25 May 2008
Teenagers!!!!!!
Every child matters?.....What was i thinking yesterday?
Teenagers.....aaagh!
Grunt has left one motorbike in the living room and is currently fixing another in the kitchen. "It's raining "....well i think that's what he might have been saying.
They don't exactly talk at this age. Lost the art of human speech, overnight. All that effort in getting them to annunciate the beginning and the end of words, to be confident to speak, all gone.
He went to bed one night and awoke the next morning only able to say "uugh" followed by the occassional "umm"
I've become quite adept at grunt interpretation......perhaps i could run a grunt course for would be parents of teenage boys.
Girls on the other hand, seem to develope instantly overnight into know it all opinionated, articulate, if somewhat loud banshees, who can punctuate what they think with a good door slam.
My advice is get some ear defenders and adopt a vacant expression......they think you're pretty vacant anyway ...best not try and disabuse them.
Teenagers.....aaagh!
Grunt has left one motorbike in the living room and is currently fixing another in the kitchen. "It's raining "....well i think that's what he might have been saying.
They don't exactly talk at this age. Lost the art of human speech, overnight. All that effort in getting them to annunciate the beginning and the end of words, to be confident to speak, all gone.
He went to bed one night and awoke the next morning only able to say "uugh" followed by the occassional "umm"
I've become quite adept at grunt interpretation......perhaps i could run a grunt course for would be parents of teenage boys.
Girls on the other hand, seem to develope instantly overnight into know it all opinionated, articulate, if somewhat loud banshees, who can punctuate what they think with a good door slam.
My advice is get some ear defenders and adopt a vacant expression......they think you're pretty vacant anyway ...best not try and disabuse them.
Saturday, 24 May 2008
Every Child Matters
This is a very serious subject for me and yet as i write, that annoying little ditty from" The Life of Brian".....every sperm is sacred is playing endlessly in my mind.
Every child matters, perhaps should be an anthem, that everyone who works, lives and comes into contact with children should know by heart and is at the heart of their practice.
I work in the child care services and i have children of my own.
We all use the health service and access opticians, dentists, Gp's.The education service is an almost daily part of our lives and as children grow and become increasingly independent, they come into contact with youth and voluntary services.
The judicial system, law enforcement and population surveillance is a constant in our lives and that of our children.
Up until quite recently these agencies worked largely independently of each other and interacted in an undefined ad hoc sort of way which was mostly driven and governed by child protection needs and individual agency agendas.
Identification of need has been in the past the main tool in addressing problematic child and adolescence.
This" identification of need" seems to start almost pre-birth and follow the child through to adult hood.
"Meeting of need " however, has proved to be more problematic and often dependent on factors around available resources. It is still often the case that those who shout loudest or are more articulate, win over those who sometimes have a greater need.
Every child matters as a philosophy, attempts to equalise irrespective of financial resources, the post code lottery of meeting needs.
Every child matters systems as opposed to a select number or type, ability or disability, wealthy or poor targeted systems is in my view, starting to produce some good outcomes for children, which can be built upon in future generations.
In the past few years, foe example, i have seen a growing engagement from the secondary education service in Britain with parents. It has always been there, but now they strive to reach parents and children who have before, been left on the edge, to struggle or not on their own. Welfare and pastoral needs have been identified and specialist trained workers have been alloted to address them. They work closely with youth workers and health, and through the school nurse directly to the GP, paediatric and special needs providers.
Education has become more active rather than passive. Services which have historically, been there for those who looked are now actively looking for those who need their services.
Looked after children are still micromanaged and services imposed that cause them to be treated in a different way to those children looked after by their parents. Personally, i believe this to be to the detrement of those children who often want to be treated the same as other children and offered the same opportunities.
However, in one area, looked after children have benefited greatly and that is by having an alloted CAMHS (child and mental health) nurse. This is often someone they see infrequently, but who, nevertheless, gets to know their personal health needs and individual issues.
They can offer children and carers access to programmes and services that they may not normally be aware of and point them in the direction of targeted help.
I would like to see all children offered an annual health check up on the same lines that the CAMHS service offer to looked after children.
If systems of working and living with children had at their centre, a strong philosophy and actioned that EVERY child mattered then perhaps we could have integrated services equal and open, less open to abuse and more able to spot, and act on neglectful and damaging behaviours...
Every child matters, perhaps should be an anthem, that everyone who works, lives and comes into contact with children should know by heart and is at the heart of their practice.
I work in the child care services and i have children of my own.
We all use the health service and access opticians, dentists, Gp's.The education service is an almost daily part of our lives and as children grow and become increasingly independent, they come into contact with youth and voluntary services.
The judicial system, law enforcement and population surveillance is a constant in our lives and that of our children.
Up until quite recently these agencies worked largely independently of each other and interacted in an undefined ad hoc sort of way which was mostly driven and governed by child protection needs and individual agency agendas.
Identification of need has been in the past the main tool in addressing problematic child and adolescence.
This" identification of need" seems to start almost pre-birth and follow the child through to adult hood.
"Meeting of need " however, has proved to be more problematic and often dependent on factors around available resources. It is still often the case that those who shout loudest or are more articulate, win over those who sometimes have a greater need.
Every child matters as a philosophy, attempts to equalise irrespective of financial resources, the post code lottery of meeting needs.
Every child matters systems as opposed to a select number or type, ability or disability, wealthy or poor targeted systems is in my view, starting to produce some good outcomes for children, which can be built upon in future generations.
In the past few years, foe example, i have seen a growing engagement from the secondary education service in Britain with parents. It has always been there, but now they strive to reach parents and children who have before, been left on the edge, to struggle or not on their own. Welfare and pastoral needs have been identified and specialist trained workers have been alloted to address them. They work closely with youth workers and health, and through the school nurse directly to the GP, paediatric and special needs providers.
Education has become more active rather than passive. Services which have historically, been there for those who looked are now actively looking for those who need their services.
Looked after children are still micromanaged and services imposed that cause them to be treated in a different way to those children looked after by their parents. Personally, i believe this to be to the detrement of those children who often want to be treated the same as other children and offered the same opportunities.
However, in one area, looked after children have benefited greatly and that is by having an alloted CAMHS (child and mental health) nurse. This is often someone they see infrequently, but who, nevertheless, gets to know their personal health needs and individual issues.
They can offer children and carers access to programmes and services that they may not normally be aware of and point them in the direction of targeted help.
I would like to see all children offered an annual health check up on the same lines that the CAMHS service offer to looked after children.
If systems of working and living with children had at their centre, a strong philosophy and actioned that EVERY child mattered then perhaps we could have integrated services equal and open, less open to abuse and more able to spot, and act on neglectful and damaging behaviours...
Sunday, 18 May 2008
Bugger the Boat I've Broken my Nose!
Whose stupid idea was it to get in the boat just after they'd hosed it down......ok, thanks for the bag of peas, but do you really need to be laughing?
It hurts!
Serves me right. I should've known the boat couldn't compete with the GG's!
A Green Goddess Widow Am I
It's a lovely Sunday afternoon. The sun is shining, and the wind is blowing warmer than it usually does on top of this mountain.
The rugby season has coming suddenly to a halt and i think maybe we'll spend some time as a family kayaking, or a walk through the woods to the pub and a cool refreshing drink.
Want on says no.1 son and he who should never (be obeyed) almost in unison....Phil the biker is coming up in a mo and we thought we'd fill Fishguard Bell up with water....
I can feel the cold icy dread, premonition....ney, conviction of an afternoon pumping water from the river and the inevitable drama of the inevitable breakdown.
Points, coil, run out of fuel, bad earth......the list is endless!
No.1 son says, I can't go kayaking, I'm in the middle of taking the paint off....I'm nearly down to the bare metal and I'll need to get some primer this week before it rains.
Calling all green goddess widows....HELP!
Saturday, 17 May 2008
Junk Mail
OOps, must be the chicken i've consummed.......or that bad bag of crisps!
Someone in work has given my new e-mail address to some computer nerd in advertising for our local authority (the people we work for) and i have been assaulted by invitations to go to reading in the library for tots i don't have, theatre tickets for what can only be described as "z" plays as opposed to "b" movies.....not that i'm fussy! I think it's the aqua robics and the ante-natal swimathon that's got me worried.
Do they know something i don't?
The thing is when i say i work for a local authority, and i do, well.......it's not exactly local, being over 100 miles away!
A whopping 5% discount for something that's going to cost me £50 to get to is sort of defeating the object!
Nevertheless, you've got to admire their tenacity.
So....anyway i phoned the nice lady and said i wasn't impressed....I did it very nicely, you know with the smile in your voice, that says I'll eat you later but for now I'm a smiley person.
Anyway she said "oooo I know, junk mail is an awful problem.....but i just press the button see and i wouldn't know how not to include you....coz i just send it all by pressing the button"
"Could she not just delete my name from her list just before she pressed the button?"......"no" she couldn't because then i wouldn't get the mail.
How sad i thought, hang on wasn't that what i wanted?
I said I'd be really impressed if she could do that but sadly she said she wasn't allowed.
"Where did she get my e_mail address?"
From your manager she told me, because she'd been concerned that she'd sent me the stuff and it was coming back as unreceived and that wasn't allowed.
How sad, i sympathised, whilst thinking that's because i've changed my address so you in paticular cannot send me all this drivel.
Now silly me, i thought your e-mail address was something personal and people needed to ask you if they could pass it on.....ooo and I must be daft because i thought well i can put a stop to the postie delivering junk and i can put a stop to the unsolicited phonecalls enticing me to change phone provider or wishing me to purchase double glazing......but apparently i can't stop the people i work for sending me unwanted, unasked for adverts in e-mails.
Sometimes they send me something i need to know, such as a change in law, or an invitation to a meeting, something pertenent to my job.
How i asked could i work out what was needed and what was junk?
"I dunno" she said "I just press the button!"
Someone in work has given my new e-mail address to some computer nerd in advertising for our local authority (the people we work for) and i have been assaulted by invitations to go to reading in the library for tots i don't have, theatre tickets for what can only be described as "z" plays as opposed to "b" movies.....not that i'm fussy! I think it's the aqua robics and the ante-natal swimathon that's got me worried.
Do they know something i don't?
The thing is when i say i work for a local authority, and i do, well.......it's not exactly local, being over 100 miles away!
A whopping 5% discount for something that's going to cost me £50 to get to is sort of defeating the object!
Nevertheless, you've got to admire their tenacity.
So....anyway i phoned the nice lady and said i wasn't impressed....I did it very nicely, you know with the smile in your voice, that says I'll eat you later but for now I'm a smiley person.
Anyway she said "oooo I know, junk mail is an awful problem.....but i just press the button see and i wouldn't know how not to include you....coz i just send it all by pressing the button"
"Could she not just delete my name from her list just before she pressed the button?"......"no" she couldn't because then i wouldn't get the mail.
How sad i thought, hang on wasn't that what i wanted?
I said I'd be really impressed if she could do that but sadly she said she wasn't allowed.
"Where did she get my e_mail address?"
From your manager she told me, because she'd been concerned that she'd sent me the stuff and it was coming back as unreceived and that wasn't allowed.
How sad, i sympathised, whilst thinking that's because i've changed my address so you in paticular cannot send me all this drivel.
Now silly me, i thought your e-mail address was something personal and people needed to ask you if they could pass it on.....ooo and I must be daft because i thought well i can put a stop to the postie delivering junk and i can put a stop to the unsolicited phonecalls enticing me to change phone provider or wishing me to purchase double glazing......but apparently i can't stop the people i work for sending me unwanted, unasked for adverts in e-mails.
Sometimes they send me something i need to know, such as a change in law, or an invitation to a meeting, something pertenent to my job.
How i asked could i work out what was needed and what was junk?
"I dunno" she said "I just press the button!"
Junk e-mail
I never get any e-mail.......probably because i'm such a bitch.....good friend.
It's so bad my lovely zilla has had to resort to getting her father to e-mail me.....interestingly all his mails go straight to junk e-mail.
Honest i don't know why.
Any techies out there that know please tell me so he doesn't feel junked.
It's so bad my lovely zilla has had to resort to getting her father to e-mail me.....interestingly all his mails go straight to junk e-mail.
Honest i don't know why.
Any techies out there that know please tell me so he doesn't feel junked.
"Pheasant for tea" then says he who should never.
" P
Pheasant for tea then" says he who should never be obeyed, shutting the door after waving a smiling goodbye.
Ok, my last posting was a tad bitchy.....she brings out all my best qualities.
He who should never, is of course a paragon of virtue and would never stoop so low!
Subtle, he is!
"Hey Nikki, look at these cameras, just bought this one for Zills...she's got a really great eye and this SLR is the next step up for her".
Oooo, she cooed, eyes turning a lovely shade of green. "I've been looking at them in tir a mor"
I like to shop local, you know, keep the little person in buisness.
(It's not shopping local i object to but the "little person" is spoken of in a particularly patronising tone)
"They are coming down in price all the time" says he who must never "We've been looking at a Canon"
The gentle hue of green has spread incredibly fast and she is now looking a little green around the gils. I wonder how long it will be before she has bought a top of the range camera with every conceivable add on and accessory.......Probably first thing Monday morning!
Her credit card company should really think about giving us a cut!
Pheasant for tea then" says he who should never be obeyed, shutting the door after waving a smiling goodbye.
Ok, my last posting was a tad bitchy.....she brings out all my best qualities.
He who should never, is of course a paragon of virtue and would never stoop so low!
Subtle, he is!
"Hey Nikki, look at these cameras, just bought this one for Zills...she's got a really great eye and this SLR is the next step up for her".
Oooo, she cooed, eyes turning a lovely shade of green. "I've been looking at them in tir a mor"
I like to shop local, you know, keep the little person in buisness.
(It's not shopping local i object to but the "little person" is spoken of in a particularly patronising tone)
"They are coming down in price all the time" says he who must never "We've been looking at a Canon"
The gentle hue of green has spread incredibly fast and she is now looking a little green around the gils. I wonder how long it will be before she has bought a top of the range camera with every conceivable add on and accessory.......Probably first thing Monday morning!
Her credit card company should really think about giving us a cut!
Economy Drive
My mate Nikki has been here this afternoon, drinking my dwindling stock of good white french wine, the crappy plonk, already having been consumed.
I'm not mean, honest.
It's just that when i go to her house, she drinks the expensive Gurverstremeiner and she opens a special bottle of Bretonniere for me. If i hadn't fetched it for her fom France, then i wouldn't know it only cost £2.10 a bottle. It's the "I'll open this for you, you don't like this do you" brandishing the Gervertz "too flowery for you"
I wouldn't know, i think, i havn't tasted it yet!
I'm far too polite to say this....I know my place having been brought up on a council house estate.
She stays far longer than she normally does and downs a few more glasses than is probably good for her.
"I'd love to stay longer" she says looking wistfully at the empty bottles
Bet you would i think! ungenerously.
"but I've been at the golf club far longer than i should have".
Bet you weren't playing golf either i think.
"He's on one of his economy drives" she whispers conspiritorally. "I'm going home to cook liver...it's so cheap at the moment!"
"I like liver". ......She gives me a look that says....i expect you're used to it.
"How are you going to cook it? With smoked bacon and onions?"
I think she's going to say how sweet but she manages a " How Paysienne. No, darling with a good red!"
Very economical!
I'm not mean, honest.
It's just that when i go to her house, she drinks the expensive Gurverstremeiner and she opens a special bottle of Bretonniere for me. If i hadn't fetched it for her fom France, then i wouldn't know it only cost £2.10 a bottle. It's the "I'll open this for you, you don't like this do you" brandishing the Gervertz "too flowery for you"
I wouldn't know, i think, i havn't tasted it yet!
I'm far too polite to say this....I know my place having been brought up on a council house estate.
She stays far longer than she normally does and downs a few more glasses than is probably good for her.
"I'd love to stay longer" she says looking wistfully at the empty bottles
Bet you would i think! ungenerously.
"but I've been at the golf club far longer than i should have".
Bet you weren't playing golf either i think.
"He's on one of his economy drives" she whispers conspiritorally. "I'm going home to cook liver...it's so cheap at the moment!"
"I like liver". ......She gives me a look that says....i expect you're used to it.
"How are you going to cook it? With smoked bacon and onions?"
I think she's going to say how sweet but she manages a " How Paysienne. No, darling with a good red!"
Very economical!
Thursday, 15 May 2008
Child Protection???????
Now I don't often write about work but I'm going to make an exception today because quite frankly I'm a bit cross.
Probably "a bit cross" is an understatement.
"He who never does as he is told" has been threatening to hose me off the ceiling with the jets on his green goddess......don't think he'll dare because I'm so cross the water will instantly turn into steam and there's already enough of that coming out of my ears to service several saunas !
Now we have been parenting a young lad for the past 6 years, and a smashing lad he is too. He isn't ours by birth or adoption but a firm and valued member of our family he has become.
Yeah, ok, I'm not his mum and he isn't my child... but he's in my family!
Now I have a lot of kids, not all of them my own, but a goodly proportion are.
The said young lad has two statutuary reviews of his life a year. For the past 3 years one of these per year has been held in our family home....It's where he feels safe and confident enough to say what HE wants and thinks and thats a hard thing to do when faced with a barrage of adults, all keen to stamp there mark and prove that they are truly the ones who have his "best" interests at heart.
The other is held at a family centre so that his true parents can gain knowledge of what he's up to, how school is going and whether he is healthy....all the sort of things parents need and want to know. They also have an opportunity to contribute, say what they would like, voice their opinions and encouragement.
There's a fantastic opportunity for keeping in touch and sharing.
I think there's not enough sharing in this world and every little bit of sharing is so valuable...don't waste the opportunity!
Now, dad has not been a model of good human nature in the past. In fact he's the sort of man most people would not want living next door, especially if they were a woman or a child. Add to this a sprinkling of wanton violence...get the picture?
Yeah, well there's such a thing as unconditional love and young lad has seen it all and loves his mam and dad, just as most love there kids and his mam and dad love him.
They are SPECIAL and so is he!
Ok, Well what am i cross about?
I'm cross because the reviewing officers have for, well , I know for certain for the last review, and suspect for several previous reviews, if not all, have been inviting DAD to my family home.
Now, dad at the moment hasn't transport, and luckily we live over a hundred miles away and he has never attended meetings at my house.
Nothing bad has happened but the potential for evil against little ones, who have done nothing but share their mummy and daddy and home and toys and school and friends and holidays and life and most of all, kinship and friendship, is very real.
The department remain oblivious, content in knowing they are ticking the boxes of parental inclusion.
They are oblivious to the potential harm, and disregard the safety of all the members of our family.......
NOT FOR LONG!!!!!
Probably "a bit cross" is an understatement.
"He who never does as he is told" has been threatening to hose me off the ceiling with the jets on his green goddess......don't think he'll dare because I'm so cross the water will instantly turn into steam and there's already enough of that coming out of my ears to service several saunas !
Now we have been parenting a young lad for the past 6 years, and a smashing lad he is too. He isn't ours by birth or adoption but a firm and valued member of our family he has become.
Yeah, ok, I'm not his mum and he isn't my child... but he's in my family!
Now I have a lot of kids, not all of them my own, but a goodly proportion are.
The said young lad has two statutuary reviews of his life a year. For the past 3 years one of these per year has been held in our family home....It's where he feels safe and confident enough to say what HE wants and thinks and thats a hard thing to do when faced with a barrage of adults, all keen to stamp there mark and prove that they are truly the ones who have his "best" interests at heart.
The other is held at a family centre so that his true parents can gain knowledge of what he's up to, how school is going and whether he is healthy....all the sort of things parents need and want to know. They also have an opportunity to contribute, say what they would like, voice their opinions and encouragement.
There's a fantastic opportunity for keeping in touch and sharing.
I think there's not enough sharing in this world and every little bit of sharing is so valuable...don't waste the opportunity!
Now, dad has not been a model of good human nature in the past. In fact he's the sort of man most people would not want living next door, especially if they were a woman or a child. Add to this a sprinkling of wanton violence...get the picture?
Yeah, well there's such a thing as unconditional love and young lad has seen it all and loves his mam and dad, just as most love there kids and his mam and dad love him.
They are SPECIAL and so is he!
Ok, Well what am i cross about?
I'm cross because the reviewing officers have for, well , I know for certain for the last review, and suspect for several previous reviews, if not all, have been inviting DAD to my family home.
Now, dad at the moment hasn't transport, and luckily we live over a hundred miles away and he has never attended meetings at my house.
Nothing bad has happened but the potential for evil against little ones, who have done nothing but share their mummy and daddy and home and toys and school and friends and holidays and life and most of all, kinship and friendship, is very real.
The department remain oblivious, content in knowing they are ticking the boxes of parental inclusion.
They are oblivious to the potential harm, and disregard the safety of all the members of our family.......
NOT FOR LONG!!!!!
Wednesday, 7 May 2008
Mummies Piggies
Thinking along the lines of vegetarianism and bacon sandwiches, I find myself thinking about our dear little piggies...alas they are no more....eaten they are by ourselves and our friends....Yummy Scrummy they were too!
"Do you want some piglets?" said a friend. What sort of friend she is I'm beginning to wonder!
They were so deliciously beautiful, two little Glouster Old Spot/ Tamworth Cross piglets, Boars, apparentlty, she assured me without the relevant bits.
I am so stupid, I never looked. How I missed the bits that shouldn't have been there....say no more, I'm gullable, daft and naive.
Well prepared, got a book from the library, pig fencing and number one son and crazy friend, called ....Grendal (should have had second, third and tenth thoughts with such a name) made a pig house.
Pigs root around, turn over land and eat anything........Anyone seen that horror film, where the pigs are fed humans?......Ok...lets not go there!
Little, darling, sweet piggies arrive and we are all delighted........
.....................Not for long!
It's very hot and lovely Chris, who is a little hard of thinking, in the kindest way, is concerned that Christmas and Easter are a bit too hot and need cooling down.
Caught in the act of cooling little piglets down with copious ammounts of very cold water from a very large bucket. "Chris, stop " I foolishly shout. "They are only little, they'll get cold and could die"
He is sad. He was only trying to help. He will remember " PIGS MUST NOT GET WET"
Little piglets they do not remain. Their size seems to increase exponetionally daily.
The pig nuts are stored in an old car, and Christmas and Easter, our two growing piggies are very clever and increasingly immune to the electric shocks of our pig fencing. ......
Piece of cake, breaking into a car, for pigs!
Even bigger and fatter piggies, but no sign that their intelligence is waning......they smell female piggies, a mile up the road and have gone "A wall" It's ok, they haven't got their bits....oops!
I run up the road after Christmas and Easter, 10 litre bucket filled with rattling pignuts, in the vain hope that food will win out over F***(interest in the female form)
Serves her right for telling porkie pies! Her sows, were now very likely preggers by their brothers!....Brings a whole new dimention to the family way!
OOps no longer friends I suspect!
Having had their wicked way they were content to follow me down the road. " Come on mummies piggies " I cried whilst jiggling the rattling pignuts, hoping against all hope that no-one would recognise me.
Now, it's pretty typical of Pembrokeshire, that it rains , and pigs being pigs they were running amuck in the farmyard and rain being rain it was pretty wet.
Chris remembered "PIGS MUST NOT GET WET"
He opened the front door and invited.....300 llb of pig x2 into the house out of the rain.
Have you any idea what two fully grown greedy piggies can do in a house?
I didn't know who to scream at first, so scream i did....but pigs can upturn a large freezer and fridge and riffle its contents, immune to screams, turn tables and push arm chairs into splinters before you can say" pork chops"
Yummy, scrummy the best place for piggies is on my plate!
Vegetarians........sorry!
"Do you want some piglets?" said a friend. What sort of friend she is I'm beginning to wonder!
They were so deliciously beautiful, two little Glouster Old Spot/ Tamworth Cross piglets, Boars, apparentlty, she assured me without the relevant bits.
I am so stupid, I never looked. How I missed the bits that shouldn't have been there....say no more, I'm gullable, daft and naive.
Well prepared, got a book from the library, pig fencing and number one son and crazy friend, called ....Grendal (should have had second, third and tenth thoughts with such a name) made a pig house.
Pigs root around, turn over land and eat anything........Anyone seen that horror film, where the pigs are fed humans?......Ok...lets not go there!
Little, darling, sweet piggies arrive and we are all delighted........
.....................Not for long!
It's very hot and lovely Chris, who is a little hard of thinking, in the kindest way, is concerned that Christmas and Easter are a bit too hot and need cooling down.
Caught in the act of cooling little piglets down with copious ammounts of very cold water from a very large bucket. "Chris, stop " I foolishly shout. "They are only little, they'll get cold and could die"
He is sad. He was only trying to help. He will remember " PIGS MUST NOT GET WET"
Little piglets they do not remain. Their size seems to increase exponetionally daily.
The pig nuts are stored in an old car, and Christmas and Easter, our two growing piggies are very clever and increasingly immune to the electric shocks of our pig fencing. ......
Piece of cake, breaking into a car, for pigs!
Even bigger and fatter piggies, but no sign that their intelligence is waning......they smell female piggies, a mile up the road and have gone "A wall" It's ok, they haven't got their bits....oops!
I run up the road after Christmas and Easter, 10 litre bucket filled with rattling pignuts, in the vain hope that food will win out over F***(interest in the female form)
Serves her right for telling porkie pies! Her sows, were now very likely preggers by their brothers!....Brings a whole new dimention to the family way!
OOps no longer friends I suspect!
Having had their wicked way they were content to follow me down the road. " Come on mummies piggies " I cried whilst jiggling the rattling pignuts, hoping against all hope that no-one would recognise me.
Now, it's pretty typical of Pembrokeshire, that it rains , and pigs being pigs they were running amuck in the farmyard and rain being rain it was pretty wet.
Chris remembered "PIGS MUST NOT GET WET"
He opened the front door and invited.....300 llb of pig x2 into the house out of the rain.
Have you any idea what two fully grown greedy piggies can do in a house?
I didn't know who to scream at first, so scream i did....but pigs can upturn a large freezer and fridge and riffle its contents, immune to screams, turn tables and push arm chairs into splinters before you can say" pork chops"
Yummy, scrummy the best place for piggies is on my plate!
Vegetarians........sorry!
Sunday, 4 May 2008
Vegetarianism and me
Now, i have often flirted with vegetarians....oops or did i mean vegetarianism?
Probably both!
Infact i'm a bit of a fruit and veg aholic, especially if we've grown it ourselves. There is something magical about the whole process of growing something, even if it's just a few spuds.
You know, digging and preparing the ground, and watching with excitement how the first hard frosts break up the large clods into wonderfully crumbly soil ready for planting. Children, eagerly pushing in the chitted potatoes and watching daily for the first signs of fresh green leaves. Earthing them up and best of all, forking them out of the ground.
It always amazes me how many potatoes grow from just one small potato.
The smell of freshly dug up spuds is truly wonderous and one that cannot be captured by the supermarkets no matter how soon they think they can get them from the field.
Cooking them and eating them.....well thats my favourite!
It's just not about the humble spud, i know, and there is such a fantastic array of fruits and vegetables available to us now.
I often wonder about the human cost in producing such delights, not to mention the costs in resources (most of which, once used are gone forever, turned into nasties for our lungs)
The sheer number of grains and pulses available to buy and cook for our edification is astonishing.
I have a whole series of books, probably written in the 70's...101 ways to cook pasta, chicken, soups etc.
I wonder when someone is gong to bring out a 101 ways to cook quinoa....me, i don't know what it is, where it's grown, it's food value or indeed what to do with it!
So come on, there must be someone out there who can take advantage of our ignorance and enlighten us for a small fee.
I've always grown up with vegetables......no Rhys, my father might have had little education but he was no vegetable, although he often grew some spectacular ones!
I think a meal would be particularly dull without the colourful addition of fruit and vegetables, however, for me a slice of succulant lamb.....yes i know it's the same thing as those delightful bouncy, fluffy creatures bleating in the next field...only dead, is something well worth looking forward to.
I quite enjoy chicken, turkey, pheasant and bunny. Bunny pie, in our house is rabbit and vegetable stew with a thick wholemeal pastry crust....thinking on it, it's probably the beer that makes it so delicious.
Now i would be quite happy to live on cereals, pulses and fruit and veg and no meat for a generous ammount of time, but to live without a bacon butty......that would be pure torture.
Probably both!
Infact i'm a bit of a fruit and veg aholic, especially if we've grown it ourselves. There is something magical about the whole process of growing something, even if it's just a few spuds.
You know, digging and preparing the ground, and watching with excitement how the first hard frosts break up the large clods into wonderfully crumbly soil ready for planting. Children, eagerly pushing in the chitted potatoes and watching daily for the first signs of fresh green leaves. Earthing them up and best of all, forking them out of the ground.
It always amazes me how many potatoes grow from just one small potato.
The smell of freshly dug up spuds is truly wonderous and one that cannot be captured by the supermarkets no matter how soon they think they can get them from the field.
Cooking them and eating them.....well thats my favourite!
It's just not about the humble spud, i know, and there is such a fantastic array of fruits and vegetables available to us now.
I often wonder about the human cost in producing such delights, not to mention the costs in resources (most of which, once used are gone forever, turned into nasties for our lungs)
The sheer number of grains and pulses available to buy and cook for our edification is astonishing.
I have a whole series of books, probably written in the 70's...101 ways to cook pasta, chicken, soups etc.
I wonder when someone is gong to bring out a 101 ways to cook quinoa....me, i don't know what it is, where it's grown, it's food value or indeed what to do with it!
So come on, there must be someone out there who can take advantage of our ignorance and enlighten us for a small fee.
I've always grown up with vegetables......no Rhys, my father might have had little education but he was no vegetable, although he often grew some spectacular ones!
I think a meal would be particularly dull without the colourful addition of fruit and vegetables, however, for me a slice of succulant lamb.....yes i know it's the same thing as those delightful bouncy, fluffy creatures bleating in the next field...only dead, is something well worth looking forward to.
I quite enjoy chicken, turkey, pheasant and bunny. Bunny pie, in our house is rabbit and vegetable stew with a thick wholemeal pastry crust....thinking on it, it's probably the beer that makes it so delicious.
Now i would be quite happy to live on cereals, pulses and fruit and veg and no meat for a generous ammount of time, but to live without a bacon butty......that would be pure torture.
Saturday, 3 May 2008
Vegetarians turn away now!
A visitor, a welcome visitor is staying once again with us.
She has been a part of my life for many years now, since a babe in arms. I've wiped her snotty nose and let her play at mum. I've watched her forward steps and many of her backward ones too, but i have always known she'd turn into a competent butterfly.
She often visits when she is at her most fragile and we have found that at those times good food can ease the soul.
Hearty breakfasts of bacon, eggs and mushrooms, thick slices of bread smeared generously with salty butter washed down with copious mugs of milky tea.......a grand necessity after the alcohol consummed the night before.
Lunch is in the aga...leg of lamb, well seasoned with garlic, salt and pepper laid on a bed of apricots......makes a fantastic sauce! This will be served with runner beans and carrots and lots of buttery mash.
For desert we're having pancakes with a lemon cream.
Heart attack tomorrow!
For supper i thought some rich brandy and herb pate with melba toast, watercress and best kalamata olives.....and undoubtedly more bottles of good French red wine.
Double heart attack and kydney failure to boot!
Lots of laughter, a smattering of sunshine and a whiff of country air should send her back to the big smoke rearmed and equiped once more to battle on.
She has been a part of my life for many years now, since a babe in arms. I've wiped her snotty nose and let her play at mum. I've watched her forward steps and many of her backward ones too, but i have always known she'd turn into a competent butterfly.
She often visits when she is at her most fragile and we have found that at those times good food can ease the soul.
Hearty breakfasts of bacon, eggs and mushrooms, thick slices of bread smeared generously with salty butter washed down with copious mugs of milky tea.......a grand necessity after the alcohol consummed the night before.
Lunch is in the aga...leg of lamb, well seasoned with garlic, salt and pepper laid on a bed of apricots......makes a fantastic sauce! This will be served with runner beans and carrots and lots of buttery mash.
For desert we're having pancakes with a lemon cream.
Heart attack tomorrow!
For supper i thought some rich brandy and herb pate with melba toast, watercress and best kalamata olives.....and undoubtedly more bottles of good French red wine.
Double heart attack and kydney failure to boot!
Lots of laughter, a smattering of sunshine and a whiff of country air should send her back to the big smoke rearmed and equiped once more to battle on.
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