Its true then , my sister wasn't having me on with her early morning text . Having taken her Hexhan Courant back to bed due to the storms outside she informed me that the latest delicacy on themenu at Matfen Hall country club was squirrel with chestnuts( obviously with a much posher title) . Having done my research Dining menu this seems unlikely until I discover this Shop Supplies Posh Restaurant With Squirrel Meat (from The Northern Echo) . Oh dear , it seems fine diners in the region are indeed tucking into poor defenceless little rodents . I don't get it . Why would they ? As Laura herself noted its tantamount to eating a guinea pig and after all squirrels at the best of times are regarded as vermin surely . Who would want to eat one on any grounds ? I personally think that apart from aesthetic grounds , the texture would be all wrong . The bushy tail and nibbbling face would be at the forefront of the mind as one carved . The store of nuts and the cute way they run up treees and pose for photos . No , its just not right .
I can feel a letter to Matfen Hall coming on .
Saturday, 8 March 2008
It started well . I slept beyond radio 4 snapping into action at 6 30 ( why , on the weekends ? ) and even a bit beyond the 6 45 phone alarm starting up . (I wake with no headache ). I never bother to cancel that as the dog usually gets me up before that in any event . But even she slept in today . I crept down to find her just stirring , the white Ikea humans throw wrapped round her shoulders and the blue and green tartan dogs throw round her waist and lower torso . She eases up and the tail wags once then she settles back down for another five until she is certain the food cupboard door is opening . The Guinea Pigs are rather more sociable squeaking their good mornings and hopping about their domain , stretching their necks and woffling the noses in anticipation of breakfast . The cats appear and start to swarm and trip me . Once the dog's mince is on the computer shows its 10 degrees outside and rather than nip back to bed with the book I get drawn into a blog .
I love blogs .
Today Silliyak has left an intriguing comment on mine and I start reading some of his archives . Soon I am transported to another world and a trip to China ( was it ? I think so ? ) and a potty story ( in the UK we use potty to describe the things babies poo and wee on but I know from my travels in the States that potty there is used for adult functions too , which amuses me no end ) . I find myself laughing out loud and soon half an hour has passed and I am looking at cat pictures and reading witticisms and wondering why my own blog is so pedestrian . Envy is a terrible thing . There is a seagull called Charlie who eats hotdogs and has lived for thirty years and ......
The mince is burning and the cats are not amused and I have to tear myself away . The spell is broken so I serve animal breakfast and retire upstairs , not before I notice Alice is missing , despite having demolished a hearty panful . Silence . I check the stairs . Somehow she has broken through the baby stair gate and is in the bathroom scoffing the cats' breakfast . I adopt my most hurt / cross voice and tell her what I think and then find the cats all sulking in the bedroom , horrified at this breach of the boundaries .
Alice later chases a large lurcher type dog on the beach , turbo charged perhaps by the cats breakfast and is unbiddable . The lurcher is bigger and braver than she is and bounces across rocks and through the sea. Alice follows ( forgetting that she does not do water ) but does not see the lie of the land and falls into a deep pool and sinks .
Later I have yet another nosebleed and return to the house to find the kitchen awash with teenagers making pancakes . There is a blood curdling noise from elsewhere and one of the visitors asked if the house is haunted . Nat and I exchange a look . We are not sure .
I love blogs .
Today Silliyak has left an intriguing comment on mine and I start reading some of his archives . Soon I am transported to another world and a trip to China ( was it ? I think so ? ) and a potty story ( in the UK we use potty to describe the things babies poo and wee on but I know from my travels in the States that potty there is used for adult functions too , which amuses me no end ) . I find myself laughing out loud and soon half an hour has passed and I am looking at cat pictures and reading witticisms and wondering why my own blog is so pedestrian . Envy is a terrible thing . There is a seagull called Charlie who eats hotdogs and has lived for thirty years and ......
The mince is burning and the cats are not amused and I have to tear myself away . The spell is broken so I serve animal breakfast and retire upstairs , not before I notice Alice is missing , despite having demolished a hearty panful . Silence . I check the stairs . Somehow she has broken through the baby stair gate and is in the bathroom scoffing the cats' breakfast . I adopt my most hurt / cross voice and tell her what I think and then find the cats all sulking in the bedroom , horrified at this breach of the boundaries .
Alice later chases a large lurcher type dog on the beach , turbo charged perhaps by the cats breakfast and is unbiddable . The lurcher is bigger and braver than she is and bounces across rocks and through the sea. Alice follows ( forgetting that she does not do water ) but does not see the lie of the land and falls into a deep pool and sinks .
Later I have yet another nosebleed and return to the house to find the kitchen awash with teenagers making pancakes . There is a blood curdling noise from elsewhere and one of the visitors asked if the house is haunted . Nat and I exchange a look . We are not sure .
Friday, 7 March 2008
Two babies
My friend visited yesterday for a couple of hours with her two babies . I say babies , one is six months , the other is a little girl of two years . But even the elder is still a baby and her world rocked by the arrival of this new delightful thing who seems to smile at the world and what do you know , the world smiles back .
We make coffee and have flapjack and juice and get toys out and play on the floor then J sits back to try to breast feed baby ...... Little Rose strides off purposefully to D s room next door and calls out Mummy ..... silence .... Yes Rose ..... Mummy , you can't see what I'm doing now ..... J looks worried but continues to try to relax and feed baby , happy but hungry . Silence from next door but a slight scuffling ..... Mummy you'd better come and see what I'm doing now ...... J shuffles anxiously ..... I hesitate , uncertain whether we should hurry through , Mummy now I'm in the papers on the desk ...... Mummy now I'm climbing ........ another long silence . J indicates that she can tolerate no more and perhaps I should go through . Little Rose is perched on the back friendly chair ( how did she climb up there ) moving paperweights around and shuffling receipts , otherwise amusing herself quietly but clearly longing for an audience .
I wonder how on earth any parent of more than one baby manages anything , for any length of time , without going crazy , or just dropping with exhaustion . How do you split yourself between two competing people with different needs when they are little and don't understand that its not that you don't want to try , its just that it's not possible .
I dream of apples , it seemed all night long .
We make coffee and have flapjack and juice and get toys out and play on the floor then J sits back to try to breast feed baby ...... Little Rose strides off purposefully to D s room next door and calls out Mummy ..... silence .... Yes Rose ..... Mummy , you can't see what I'm doing now ..... J looks worried but continues to try to relax and feed baby , happy but hungry . Silence from next door but a slight scuffling ..... Mummy you'd better come and see what I'm doing now ...... J shuffles anxiously ..... I hesitate , uncertain whether we should hurry through , Mummy now I'm in the papers on the desk ...... Mummy now I'm climbing ........ another long silence . J indicates that she can tolerate no more and perhaps I should go through . Little Rose is perched on the back friendly chair ( how did she climb up there ) moving paperweights around and shuffling receipts , otherwise amusing herself quietly but clearly longing for an audience .
I wonder how on earth any parent of more than one baby manages anything , for any length of time , without going crazy , or just dropping with exhaustion . How do you split yourself between two competing people with different needs when they are little and don't understand that its not that you don't want to try , its just that it's not possible .
I dream of apples , it seemed all night long .
Thursday, 6 March 2008
Prestat choxi
Described as rich in flavanol antioxidants , which fortify the natural resistance of the body by combating free radicals and maintaining healthy blood and cholesterol levels , Prestat Choxi was what I asked Nat for Mothers Day . But fearing that she would not find it , I purchased a bar myself a couple of weeks ago .
Although not sure what free radicals are or what any of that stuff Ive quoted means , I can confirm the chocolate is very nice . It was only as I polished off the final piece though that I noticed the final sentence on the blurb . A small piece of choxi each day is a positive indulgence everyone can enjoy .
Oops , what about the pigs amongst us who just hogged the lot ? I did , in my defence , offer Nat a sizeable chunk last night but she declared it minging as it was orange flavoured .
Oh well what can I say ? I was never one for reading the instructions before I got started .
That's my story and I'm sticking to it .
Wednesday, 5 March 2008
Why do I never Learn ?
Long session at the Day Job on Monday with lunch provided ... sandwiches with butter which I can't eat ( so I didn't) and things on sticks and quiche , which I did . Three quarters of the way through quiche , deep in conversation ( about greyhounds .. what else ) , sudden realisation , quiches are made of eggs , mostly . Eggs for me spell Migraine ... Uh-Oh ....... too late ..... tell myself it will be fine . For years I ate loads of eggs with no problems , I've been fine the last few days blah blah .
Rest of the day: no problems .
By nine pm , trouble is brewing . Pain building in my neck , flashes in the eyes , starting to yawn and generally feel wierd . It can't be the egg: can it ?
I know it is , though I go into denial for a few minutes before taking myself off with the latest wonderdrug , the Maxmelt ...this is the one that's so hard to get out of the foil packet that if I'm anywhere beyond minute one of a migraine it completely defeats me .
I swallow the wafer and settle against the pillows in bed . Three cats have beaten me to it and Toby budges up to let me into my spot . I pick up a book having found I'm quicker to fall asleep , even with a throbing head , if I can sit propped up and read for a few minutes . If I lie flat the pain is greater and sleep comes less readily . Toby wiggles closer and then settles his head onto my arm and purrs . This is the first time he has done this and I feel oddly moved . Pearl , whose favourite spot is the corner of the bed , where she pushes the pillows to one side to make sure she is against the hot mattress ( the water bed is permanently heated but the other cats stay on top of the duvet and don't get the full benefit of the heat ) looks across as I start to move around and she comes over and burrows under the duvet and turns twice like a dog making a nest , settling herself against my thigh . Soon she is purring with a high pitched whine , almost a crooning which she does when life is pleasing her more than usual . I am soon asleep in an upright position , rambling as is the norm when D comes to check on me , subject matter monkeys and departments . Occasionally I see him laughing and even laugh myself , recognising my own disconnectedness , but unable to make sense .
The following day I am out of action to the extent that I miss Holby City .
I vow another egg will not pass my lips . It's hard though , when I'm distracted and they masquerade as other things .
I have an obsession with Onken Greek style yoghurt with honey just now . It is a rich cream coloured stuff like smooth rich ice cream with non of that off white sheepiness of some Greek youghurts .
I shall stick with that .
Oh yes and green olives . Which Iam still obsessed with .
Today despite being slightly hung over with migraine drugs , I had to drive to the ofice in D' s sporty type car with no gear stick . ( Described thus as I have forgotten the name for a car that is the opposite of manually driven though I know it has a name ) . D's daughter and her partner and two year old daughter have had to take flights to New Zealand today and he has driven them to Manchester airport needing my car for its luggage space etc . What should have been an exciting trip was never going to be straightforward as they were going to introduce their daughter to her grandfather , who had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer .
But the awful tragic news came yesterday morning that he had rung the previous night to another family member to say he didn't know whether he would make it till they got there ( their flights were booked for three weeks time ) and then that he died yesterday . So they are making the journey now for a different reason .
Life is such a strange thing at times ......how things work out , or seem not to work out .Some days I think things happen for a reason , but its hard when we have no idea what that reason is . And sometimes things can seem so cruel that to suggest there is a reason can seem callous or crass . Other days I believe there is neither rhyme nor reason to anything . And then there is the law of Karma .
Whatever is operating here , I drove with a sick anxiety this morning and I guess their long journey will be undertaken with a much greater sense of what they are heading towards .
I hope that even in the midst of loss there will be happy moments and joy for them all.
Memories of arriving in Germany at the age of seventeen to stay with my German penfriend for a few weeks . Shortly before I arrived her father's body was recovered from the Rhein , missing for weeks after suicide . This was one of the happiest holidays of my life , something of the deep sadness and sense of loss seeming to bring us all closer ?
Rest of the day: no problems .
By nine pm , trouble is brewing . Pain building in my neck , flashes in the eyes , starting to yawn and generally feel wierd . It can't be the egg: can it ?
I know it is , though I go into denial for a few minutes before taking myself off with the latest wonderdrug , the Maxmelt ...this is the one that's so hard to get out of the foil packet that if I'm anywhere beyond minute one of a migraine it completely defeats me .
I swallow the wafer and settle against the pillows in bed . Three cats have beaten me to it and Toby budges up to let me into my spot . I pick up a book having found I'm quicker to fall asleep , even with a throbing head , if I can sit propped up and read for a few minutes . If I lie flat the pain is greater and sleep comes less readily . Toby wiggles closer and then settles his head onto my arm and purrs . This is the first time he has done this and I feel oddly moved . Pearl , whose favourite spot is the corner of the bed , where she pushes the pillows to one side to make sure she is against the hot mattress ( the water bed is permanently heated but the other cats stay on top of the duvet and don't get the full benefit of the heat ) looks across as I start to move around and she comes over and burrows under the duvet and turns twice like a dog making a nest , settling herself against my thigh . Soon she is purring with a high pitched whine , almost a crooning which she does when life is pleasing her more than usual . I am soon asleep in an upright position , rambling as is the norm when D comes to check on me , subject matter monkeys and departments . Occasionally I see him laughing and even laugh myself , recognising my own disconnectedness , but unable to make sense .
The following day I am out of action to the extent that I miss Holby City .
I vow another egg will not pass my lips . It's hard though , when I'm distracted and they masquerade as other things .
I have an obsession with Onken Greek style yoghurt with honey just now . It is a rich cream coloured stuff like smooth rich ice cream with non of that off white sheepiness of some Greek youghurts .
I shall stick with that .
Oh yes and green olives . Which Iam still obsessed with .
Today despite being slightly hung over with migraine drugs , I had to drive to the ofice in D' s sporty type car with no gear stick . ( Described thus as I have forgotten the name for a car that is the opposite of manually driven though I know it has a name ) . D's daughter and her partner and two year old daughter have had to take flights to New Zealand today and he has driven them to Manchester airport needing my car for its luggage space etc . What should have been an exciting trip was never going to be straightforward as they were going to introduce their daughter to her grandfather , who had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer .
But the awful tragic news came yesterday morning that he had rung the previous night to another family member to say he didn't know whether he would make it till they got there ( their flights were booked for three weeks time ) and then that he died yesterday . So they are making the journey now for a different reason .
Life is such a strange thing at times ......how things work out , or seem not to work out .Some days I think things happen for a reason , but its hard when we have no idea what that reason is . And sometimes things can seem so cruel that to suggest there is a reason can seem callous or crass . Other days I believe there is neither rhyme nor reason to anything . And then there is the law of Karma .
Whatever is operating here , I drove with a sick anxiety this morning and I guess their long journey will be undertaken with a much greater sense of what they are heading towards .
I hope that even in the midst of loss there will be happy moments and joy for them all.
Memories of arriving in Germany at the age of seventeen to stay with my German penfriend for a few weeks . Shortly before I arrived her father's body was recovered from the Rhein , missing for weeks after suicide . This was one of the happiest holidays of my life , something of the deep sadness and sense of loss seeming to bring us all closer ?
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Migraine Days
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