3 February 2019
Classical Coffee at the Blue Room
2 February 2019
The forager
“One who searches widely over an area in order to obtain something, especially food or provisions.”
This morning I went foraging.
The method:
Settle on a menu for tomorrow’s dinner. Check out what you have in the fridge/cupboard and make note of missing ingredients.
Express your intention is to forage for the requisite foodstuffs. Head to Waitrose with hessian bag.
Patrol aisles occasionally picking up produce and placing in bag. Fill bag.
Exchange money for goods and take home free coffee for life partner.
Footnote
This will typically work for any menu, exotica aside. The ingredients have to be available in quality supermarkets near you. There are alternative versions involving multiple sources and locations but I am not covering those scenarios in this post. Stick with mainstream cuisines and you will be safe.
Enjoy foraging…
2 slices of ham please
I was idly patrolling the aisles of Waitrose, as you do, when I strolled up to the deli counter. I had nothing in mind. I didn’t need anything. My bag was already full with the essential ingredients for tomorrow’s dinner and really it was now down to any impulse purchase I might make before leaving the store.
In front of me at the counter were a retired old couple staring at the various delicacies on offer and just as I arrived they said to each other. “We’ll go for that then”. The wife looked up at the woman behind the counter and said to her “two slices of ham please”.
Wow I thought. This a couple whose life is ordered. Two slices. One each. Will I be like that when I get to their age? I can’t imagine it but who knows? I am happy right now just catching the wave and ordering ham by the wodge (holds up finger and thumb).
31 January 2019
The Perfect Winter’s Day
Inside the fire emits a warm glow. Flames probe the log placed on top of the coals. The time for sacrifice has come. The log must die.
Through the leaded glass window a dusting of frost is seen on the naked branches outside. Below zero. The water in the birdbath has frozen solid. The only place to be is in the nest. My front room.
A winter rose appears. Out of nowhere but it must have been there a while. Pink and yellow dusted in the same white frost. It’s a miracle.
Light gradually fails and gloom mutates into darkness. I look up, hearing only the fire. The front door opens.
Activity returns to the house. The sound of pots and pans and cupboard doors. An occasional happy whistle.
We are comfortable in our nest. Curtains closed on the rest of the world, the radio company for Anne in the kitchen.
Hot food appears on the table, conversation resumes, contentment continues…
I get a kick
I get a kick out of you, saxophone. Strains of saxophony coming through the wall from the next room. TV on without the sound. Lying back on the settee staring at my screen. It’s a different kind of stare as I have banished the “Book” from my everyday life and am also avoiding sources of political news. There’s too much bad stuff going on so I figured I’d shut my eyes, cover my ears and shake my head whilst saying lalalalalalala can’t hear you.
Now watching football on the TV with Anne. Looks cold out there. Quite picturesque mind you. The green baize pitch dappled with snow. I’d rather be in here in the warmth having a nice cuddle.
That’s going to be a Liverpool throw in says the commentator. It already feels a little strange not looking at Facebook every other minute. I switched off for a month last year but this time it’s going to be longer. Maybe permanent, aside from some page maintenance. Anne’s Vans et al. I want my life back.
Bloke called Wilfred Indeedy playing in the game on the TV. Yes indeedy. Something like that anyway. Sounds right.
I’ve also decided to revamp my bookcase organisation. I keep running out of space in the posh walnut bookcase. Some of the books in the TV room are going to be boxed up and stored in the attic. I rarely read any of them anymore. Fiction from decades ago plus a load of large format hardbacks that we seem to have picked up over the years. Christmas presents, book shop remainders, rear admirals, that sort of thing. Many never read. I don’t like throwing books out.
A few years ago I spent a day or three sorting my books out. All the fiction arranged alphabetically by author, for what it’s worth. Not that interested now. Going to selectively withdraw some from view. I think this is the beginning of me changing my approach to books. I’m going to up the ante on purchases. I got the idea from JP Rangaswami with who I went to the cricket last summer at the Oval. He said he had 30,000 books! Collected over a lifetime. I’m late starting but it isn’t too late. I don’t want 30,000 of them but a few more won’t go amiss.
29 January 2019
Distant February
Distant February
Today is 29th January. February remains distant, a thought that with hindsight will seem misplaced.
I lie in bed not listening to the wireless. Filtering the noise. Relegating news to the background.
Occasionally Anne mentions something she has heard and I temporarily remove the filter.
Second cup of tea appears.
28 January 2019
May you rot in hell
May you rot in hell
Fuck you bastards
Constant media coverage gets tedious
I need to immerse myself in something that is nothing to do with brexshit
27 January 2019
Classic Sunday afternoon in January
Classic Sunday afternoon in January. The wind is howling out there and it will soon be dark accompanied by plummeting temperatures. When I was a kid this would have meant watching a cowboy movie on the TV or perhaps playing a game of Monopoly with my sisters. Just trying to survive Sunday afternoon until the week reset itself and Monday came again.
To some extent very little has changed even though the choice of entertainment has increased massively. It doesn’t feel right sitting in front of the TV all afternoon though. Most of it is rubbish anyway. My alternative is to sit at the table the conservatory looking out at the weather and write.
It will gradually get darker and at some point I will decide I need to turn on the wall lights, dim as they are. The day will have morphed into night. Life will change. Life takes on a different complexion at night in winter. Cosier. As long as you are indoors and warm and the curtains are drawn.
Watching the TV in the evening seems more acceptable.
I’m glad I’m not a plant.
The Beach or Not The Beach
It is with a heavy heart that I announce the loss of the notes I had been making in preparation for this post. I had been spontaneously scribbling thoughts down on a piece of hotel notepaper, capturing the atmosphere and sounds of the beach as they happened.
You would have felt as if you were there, the sun on your face with the sounds of racing longtail boats a short distance away, sharing with me the joy of snorkelling alongside exotic yellow tailed fish in the warm blue waters of the Andaman Sea.
I do have plenty of inspirational photographs and videos to which I could refer. You did not need to know that my notes were lost. I feel however that this is an issue of creative integrity. I would have known and I would have known that the piece is not what it could have been. The sound of the American singer in the bar as we drank chilled bottles of Singha beer would not have felt the same.
The visions of coconuts washed ashore on the palm fringed pristine white sands will have to be left to the colourful travel brochures and exotic magazines of your dentist’s waiting room. Ditto the fresh barbecued fish, the satay skewers and the newly tapped coconut juice.
The hotel pool, long guarded by early rising tourists, was a sanctuary when the sweaty heat of the day called for a retreat. The visions of us sipping exotic cocktails in the shade of the wet bar will unfortunately have to remain firmly in the recesses of your own imagination.
I will leave you now, subdued and resigned to never writing the post. It is time to move on…
22 January 2019
Deep frozen midwinter
Notes from the home country upon return from the Orient
We land back in UK to a feeling of a divided country in turmoil before the start of a war. The ground is appropriately frozen and inhospitable. Parliament is in a frenzy with nobody being able to agree on the best course of action. Stockpiling of food and medicines. Bunkering down. Kids being sent to stay with relatives in the country. Talk about the reserve being called up – soldiers on standby to patrol the streets? Anticipation of huge congestion at channel terminals. Lorries back up from the coast to the M25 London circular. Late nights watching events unfold on tv. Those who can secure the escape route provided by an Irish passport. Commerce flees to Europe. There is no Plan B. The world looks on in disbelief.
16 January 2019
Brex*hit
The world in which we live is blowing up
Brexit looms
May has failed spectacularly
And my late train, with broken toilet
Continues to evacuate itself
Returning every few minutes
Behind it’s locked facade
To a cycle of self expurgation
Oblivious to all around it
Who must seek elsewhere to find relief
And yet somehow it seems
To provide a commentary
Appropriate to this moment in history
By Bob Sleigh
Kelly’s Eye Chiang Mai
palm fronds shift listlessly in the light breeze
grass grows underfoot
motionless Gardener occasionally changes direction of hosepipe
crisp white waiter moves silently between tables
occasional splash from pool reminds me that volume is on
straw hat tossed carelessly falls on floor
a flash of colour, birdsong
wake up to no change
empty tennis court
long, slow breathing
pagoda
strawberry and banana ice cream with jasmine green tea
banana leaves collect dripping condensation
Back on the oriental slow boat. Sleep is a plentiful commodity. Red flowers contrast with variegated greenery. Luxury living at a bygone pace. Tomorrow we move on to Krabi. THis is not without excitement as tropical storm Pabuk is currently battering the area.
Someone just flicked a switch. I jolt to some loud funky music. I don’t mind. It’s just different. Probably good not to be soporific all afternoon. Will give the pool a miss and perhaps take a shower before heading to the spa with Anne for a his and hers foot massage. A plane passes noisily over head. The palm fronds have stopped moving.
24 December 2018
Christmas Eve 2018
Musings on Christmas Eve
There’s a lot of crap around in this ole world right now so I’m going to concentrate on nice things.
Sue and Dad are in Lincoln for Christmas. Staying at the Lincoln Hotel. They will be around shortly. I’ve finished all the shopping and this morning will get cracking on some of the prep by making the parmesan parsnips. Not sure whether we will need some more parmesan but that can be sorted.
The fire is lit and I’m chillin (so to speak) on the sofa next to it. What’s the difference between a sofa and a settee?
The one present I need to wrap is ready, for Hannah to do it. This is Anne’s present obviously. She wraps all the others:)
There are new lights on the tree which is looking splendid and is surrounded by a number of packages that will tomorrow morning turn into a frenzy of flying wrapping paper.
Anne is shortly off out to the Bailgate. She will be off to church later and then we will need to decide whether to pop to the Morning Star for early doors after the service. This, whilst being somewhat of a tradition is not a done deal. There have been times in recent years where the pub has been full of people we don’t know with kids running rampant. Also dad is less mobile these days so access and access to seating will be a consideration.
All is calm. Tom is doing something on his laptop in the conservatory (Tom Davies in the conservatory with the laptop #cluedo). Hannah and Joe have popped out to the shops. John is still in bed.
I have already been out to buy the last few bits of supplies we need for Christmas. Bread, turkey crown, salad. This year we are having turkey for the first time in a long time. Most of us find it bland and it has been replaced by beef as our standard Christmas Day joint. However Anne likes it so this year we are having both turkey and a sirloin of beef.
Tonight Tom is cooking us a cheese fondue ably assisted by Sue on grater. That will do for now. I may post an update later. In the meantime have a great Christmas wherever you are and I hope that Santa suitably rewards you for your goodness during the year 🙂
16 December 2018
Sunday 16th December 2018
My plan for today
Already broken the fast with a toasted bacon and mushroom sandwich and now sat in front of the newly lit fire which is crackling as the kindling is made up mostly of pine. No match required as it self lit from last night’s embers. I will shortly get dressed and start prep for lunch. A simple roast chicken with stuffing, roast potatoes, parsnips, carrots, broccoli (yuk) and peas. The gravy will be top notch (ahem) and there will be pigs in blankets because we have the materials. Classic FM on the Sonos. Anne is off to church heavily decked out in purple. Must be a warm colour. I have to go and pick up a train ticket for John and a couple of items from the Post Office collection depot at Firth Road. Later I am headed to the Strugglers. Hey Dude are on at 5pm. A relaxed ease into the evening, home and likely an early night.