Skip to main content

Spice up your life...


Words from a Bird.  Day 50.

Yesterday afternoon, my mum and her younger half headed off to the pub for 'early doors'.  I have no idea what this means, but as they left the house around 5.15pm (mum only managed one hurried glass of red before leaving) I am assuming that it is polite talk for 'that couple sitting in their bloody car waiting for the pub to open'. 

Leaving me with a meal-for-one microwaveable lasagne (mum felt very guilty about this, as we all know that microwave food is not REAL food), they left.  A meal was planned after the pub, and they promised me that they would be really quiet when they got back, as I was planning an early night.

I was quite excited about being left with the remote controls for the television, (three of them, one of which whose purpose is still a mystery to me) so once my lasagne had pinged, I settled down to trawl through the Sky guide to see what I could find.

Legend - perfect, two Tom Hardys for the price of one.  That would do me, even if one of them had suspect dentures and NHS glasses on.  I would gloss over that and concentrate on the prettier twin with the smart suit and firm buttocks.

But then disaster struck....'Please enter your PIN code'.....PIN code?  What bloody PIN code?  Obviously, they had not thought it necessary to impart this information, so with a drooping shoulder (to match the other one) I flicked back to the safety of BBC1.  And that is where I stayed, in the company of The One Show until they staggered back in around 8.00. 

'You're back early'.
'You're up late'.

It transpired that after several wines, they had decided to not eat out, but order a curry to be delivered.  I do think that the guilt of leaving me alone with a meal-for-one was the overriding factor in their early return, but I wasn't going to be the one to point the finger.

Two hours later, the curry had still not arrived...lost en route somewhere between the restaurant and its final destination.  Now I know it's dark out here in the sticks, and I also appreciate that they were probably busy, but two hours?  A phone call from the younger half left the restaurant owner in no doubt as to where he could stick his cauliflower bhaji, so it now became necessary for some freezer ferreting to look for something to eat (or absorb the Rioja, whichever way you want to look at it).

Ten minutes later, the younger half presented my mum with her meal.  One toasted hot cross bun followed by a Tunnock's teacake, following by a walnut whip. 

Watching them, I pondered on the tastiness of my meal-for-one lasagne, the pasta enveloped in a sumptuous, meaty sauce with a crispy cheese topping.

Probably not the time to say how lovely it had been, especially as the younger half reached for the Rennies...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I can't stand the rain...

The bloody rain's back then...
I suppose that this is a blessing of some sorts as it means that my hosepipe will get a well earned weekend off, and the flowers won't be looking at me through the kitchen window, wondering whether there will be any chance of me getting off my derriere and giving them a drink sometime before the next millennium.  Talking of watering flowers, I haven't had any feedback from Mrs B next door as to the complete transformation of her front garden while she's been away.  I would imagine that after two glamorous weeks away, that she will have more than enough washing to do, and perhaps hasn't had the opportunity to do a full horticultural inspection as yet.
I finally got round to cleaning Charlie out yesterday afternoon. Armed with a bin liner and some sweet smelling multi surface cleaner, I gingerly opened the door.  Oh dear Lord....it is amazing just how much detritus eight adults can make over five and a half hours, and I soon realised that…

In da club...

Boy was I glad to see the end of this week.  What with the football, the weeping colleagues (just the male ones as the female variety were quite cock-a-hoop) and the incessant watering of myself as well as the allotment, my garden, and a neighbour's garden (a greenhouse, thirty tubs, four cacti, seven bowls of hedgehog water and a scoop of mealworms each day....in the hottest fortnight on record).  Throw into the mix some rather frustrating conversations with someone who shall go unnamed, I was very glad to leave Binland on Friday afternoon.
But there have been good things too.  And isn't that what life is about?  There's no point having good things if you don't have the bad to compare them to.
I spent a lovely two hours with the Mother on Thursday discussing plants, allotments and beetroot, and I'd like to think that the highlight of her afternoon was digging up a couple to take home for her dinner that night. Or maybe it was the contraband tomato I smuggled out …

I'm walking...

Having been knocked flattish by a sore throat and all of its accompanying delights, I was quite anxious as to whether I'd be able to rally for Schnauzerfest yesterday.  I'd pulled out all the stops with cakes and dog biscuits, and was desperate to do my favourite good cause justice.  

But oh happy day... I woke up yesterday feeling quite normal (stop laughing, you know what I mean) and I loaded the car and drove to Wittenham Clumps (yes, it's a real place!) Getting there early with Miss R and Mrs S we gave the dogs a quick walk before all the other walkers turned up.  The sky, which had been threatening an apocalypse, finally decided to show its good side, and the sun shone as we got ready for everyone else to turn up. 

Now I have been doing some serious whistle training with my two for the past month or so.  This basically means blowing a whistle and shaking a bag of cheese cubes, and I was optimistic about finally letting my two off so that they could run free with the res…