The Guilt Gift

What do you get if you add together "Veggie Might" & "To sleep perchance to dream"? You get a guilt gift!

Hubby felt so bad about keeping me awake with his nightly ear splitting snoring symphonies he went out & bought me Hugh's Veg book yesterday - no need to wait till Christmas now! And even more excitingly it was delivered with a promise - yes an actual promise - of one completely vegetarian day a week. This from a dyed in the wool utter & complete carnivore.

Maybe Hugh has got through? How excited am I??! Been sticking post it notes on pages all day.

To sleep, perchance to dream?

Or for me at the moment to dream of the chance to sleep! Am exhausted. Am sleep deprived, so am in a very bad mood. Those who know me well know 2 very important things about me. Feed me regularly and let me have 8 hours undisturbed sleep and I will be utterly lovely. Fail on either of those & the joy is lost. Right now a good nights' sleep is a distant luxurious memory.

Practically Perfect FauxSurreyHubby has a nasty, nasty cold. Sadly he normally snores like a freight train, (we would not be married if it were not for industrial ear plugs), but this cold has meant his normal nighttime noises - which on a good night include him imitating a road drill - now encompass an array of bizarre unbelievably loud new ones.

I am trying hard not to just abandon him as he is so poorly. We have both been so exhuasted we have been heading for bed at 9pm (seriously) and I have poured the Night Nurse for him & gritted my teeth & shoved the earplugs in as deep as they will go & have typically managed to drift off. But by 2 -3 AM Night Nurse has worn off & so hubby is in full uneblieveably loud symphonic flow so me & my pillows head to the spare room. Generally to be met by a delighted KC who jumps onto the spare bed, snuggles down next to me & purrs away happily.

But last night the KC decided that it was no fun just cuddling & purring. Oh no. After 2 hours of blissful sleep she decided it would be fun to jump on me, lick my nose, sit on my head, paw at my face, bite my feet, and simply play. So I did the unthinkable. At 5.30AM I got up & she followed & ran downstairs - and I watched her run downstairs all expectant & then I got back into bed & shut the spare room door behind me. And hubby felt guilty when he woke up & realised I had had to move beds during the night. So bless him he fed madam & let her out & drove himself to the station & I slept till 9AM. Bliss. Naturally the KC is now conked out upstairs on a cosy bed. So tempted to go poke her but I won't as that would just be mean!

Veggie-Might!

Yeah yeah I know – bad pun but when you’re as tired as I am that’s impressive. Why so tired? Doing 3 days up in that faraway London place which means getting up – actually up and dressed & presentable not just with raincoat over PJ's to drop hubby at station– at 6AM (also known as sparrows fart) 3 times a week..! Anyhow that’s not what I am blogging about no no. I am moved to blog about a man some TV critics have called patronising in the extreme but a man I have a new found respect for. Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall. I never thought I would have any time for a man who actively encouraged people to kill pigs & chickens & lambs and other lovely living breathing creatures. Organic / Free range or not. There was always just too much blood lust & meat going on at the River Cottage.

Then he took a long hard look at the life & lot of the battery chicken & he realised how cruel, pointless & unnecessary it was & what miserable “lives” these chickens lived all for the sake of cheap nasty tasteless chicken for our tables and he cried on TV. And made a stand against the horror that is battery farming. And I am not ashamed to say I was crying in my living room along with him – who are these people who can have no care & concern for another creature? It beggars belief.

Then he smelled the coffee properly & realised that what with 7 BILLION (!!) people now on this very small planet we are rushing head first into a food crisis because most people in the developed world are addicted to meat. They eat it daily and feel a meal is incomplete without something dead on their plate (sadly FauxSurreyHubby being one of them). And a la battery chicken he decided to do something about it. So he went veggie. Not sure if he is still a vegetarian but he spent 3 months as a pure no meat or fish veggie. And made a brilliant TV programme about it.  

Brilliant in my book as it’s the only cookery show I can watch all the way through without feeling slightly queasy at times. Brilliant as I know I can dash into the kitchen and make & enjoy every single dish!

The last episode was about feasting & banqueting & I sat there salivating. He was cooking South East Indian Dhosas & Puri’s, making aubergine & green bean curry, a herby peanutty noodle salad and stunning stuffed courgette flowers. Utterly inspirational. And FauxSurreyHubby has even expressed a genuine interest in some of the recipes. But we have a problem. Not only is my lovely hubby a dyed in the wool carnivore, he is allergic – severely allergic; call an ambulance allergic - to that magic ingredient that gives texture, protein & taste to many veggie dishes. Yes hubby is allergic to nuts. All nuts. Even faux nut pine nuts that give that lovely crunch to pesto. Hey ho; at least I can put Hugh on my Christmas list and sit & read about nut roasts & roasted peanut salad dressings without risk of serious illness..

I Saw You Coming!

Fans of Harry Enfield will know exactly what I mean by that. For the uninitiated, in a nutshell, Harry has a sketch in his comedy show in which he plays a Notting Hill antiques shop salesman who sells utter junk to gullible wealthy women for extortionately large quantities of money. I found myself in a similar place today. No not a Notting Hill antiques shop but – bizarrely – a garden centre. Well I’d call it a garden centre it calls itself a nursery & I won’t name it as I don’t want trouble. But seriously. This place was FauxRusticExpensive in the extreme. Located on the edge of London in an area clearly filled with people with far more money than sense (well someone must buy this stuff or they’d go under – surely??) I had to be told to close my mouth and behave on numerous occasions!

Firstly – the coffee shop. Self-service & eat in a garden shed with a leaking roof. So we got dripped on & it was freezing. Slice of cake – very nice cake admittedly £4.50. Cup of coffee £4; glass of wine £6.50 (you’d need alcohol to buy soup - £7.50). Now if I was eating said cake & drinking said coffee in a warm, uber designed sumptuous café with white glove service & silver teapots maybe.

But to sit on a hard, metal, rickety, paint peeling, ancient garden chair (that’ll be £65 if you want to take that home thanks) I don’t think so! My handbag got covered in mud as I foolishly hung it on the back of the ancient rickety chair …. the even more rickety table upon which we were enjoying our eye wateringly expensive coffee & cake was a mere £350.

In the shop more joys lay ahead - £40 yes FORTY English pound coins for a fairly ordinary, not even clean terracotta plant pot; Mmm hmm. £4,500 for an alleged Swedish antique chest thing which looked like it needed a good wire brushing & a coat of paint. £450 for an old (i.e. seen far better days vs. gorgeous well cared for antique) metal garden bench. £30 for a small wonky plate. Yes a side plate. Whoever was doing the pricing clearly kept putting the decimal point in the wrong place…!

Now I am not tight fisted, I’m all for splashing the cash; I own Mulberry bags and love drinking Krug & collect gorgeous things for me & the house darling many of which are also quite expensive in the grand scheme of things but they are either artisan, or precious (i.e. made of precious things … can’t resist a diamond!) but there are limits! Old cr*ppy furniture is not nice! As I said to my coffee mate; I may be gullible but not THAT gullible!

You know what I think? Depressingly given where we were, I think the really really rich come & buy it to pretend that it really has been in their shed "for years darling. Oh that old thing". What a world …

Here Kitty Kitty!

I had a lovely & most unusual evening last night. I volunteer for the charity 'Cats Protection' so with that hat & branded fleece on I attended a local vets' "Cat Fest" event to help make their evening more interesting & drum up support for our branch (I got 3 new members signed up in 2 hours so am very happy). I was set up with my posters, my laptop running a slideshow of the kitties in our care looking for new homes and a heap of our magazines & membership forms, and shared my room with a gorgeous British Blue called Barney. He is an ex stray & ex CP cat who now works as a Pets as Therapy cat http://www.petsastherapy.org/
He basically goes (with his human mum of course!) & visits people who respond well to touch - he has a blind lady he visits, he visits sick children in hospitals who simply cuddle & play with  him (he is so laid back he's horizontal) and he is amazing with Alzheimers patients - many of the people he visits are quite seriously ill, but they all remember Barney and greet him with joy & recognition - you can only imagine how that makes their families feel.

But the joy of cats didn't stop there - in the room next door to me were the actual Whiskas cats - the gorgeous grey & silver British short hair cats who star in the Whiskas TV ads!! I cannot tell you how beautiful / friendly / amazingly well behaved / trained they were. They were the cats who thought they were dogs - they were shaking paws, rolling over - amazing! All using a system of clicks & treats.  

I got home to find the KC purrring loudly, curled up on my bed & I wondered if she would be up for a few tricks for treats (being so close to Hallowe'en!) So I shook the pack of 'Dreamies', treats she normally takes your hand off for. But clearly not tonight. She opened one eye, yawned, rolled over onto her back, crossed her paws over her chest & went straight back to sleep. That'll be a no then ...

Jason - king of the dancefloor

A quick post as have to go into that big city to that huge blue chip company to put the hours in today. I know I was disappointed when the line up was announced but the Strictly bug has now bitten me hard - and go go Jason! I know everyone is saying he was back doing his day job this week as the theme was Broadway (he starred in the stage version of Priscilla; Queen of the Desert - one of my all time favourite movies which if my memory serves me well I saw whilst on hols in Sydney ...) but what a FAB camp tango performed to Gloria Gaynors "I Will Survive" complete with giant pink feather fans & the cheesiest grins ever - proof a tango can be both fun (they chucked in some brilliant disco hip wiggling & finger waggling) and technically briilliant & thrilling & doesn't need sheer tops, half naked women & suggestive hand placement to get your attention (yes you Holly & Artem...)

Just look at the judges' faces!! Even Craig is smiling & Bruno looks like he may explode....

Happy Birthday FauxSurreyHubby!

Today is the 'practically perfect in every way' FauxSurreyHusband's birthday. It's a 'creeping close to a big one birthday' so razmatazz this year has been kept to a minimum. Sadly the evil empire he works for will keep him in meetings till gone 6 tonight - boo hiss! Actually Evil Empire not true - to continue the Star Wars analogy he is a Jedi in the Rebel Alliance tyring to deal with the baddies (Sith?) running the Galactic Empire!

Happy Birthday to the love of my life xxxx

Fat Cat ...

... oh dear. We have just been to the vet for an annual feline MOT & like her mummy, the KC is packing a few extra pounds. But unlike her mummy there are no Weight Watchers recipe cards for kitties & the KC herself has no concept of diets. Despite the fact that she is rather human in her eating habits - I have never seen a cat 'stress eat' before but this one does. Chase a squirrel - barrel through cat flap & eat; have altercation with another cat - run home & eat; get back from vet visit (which for her is the human equivalent in stress terms of a visit to the dentist for root canal treatment) high jump out of the cat basket & eat ALL the food that you can see in the kitchen plus a handful of (now banned) treats from mummy who feels bad.

Hey ho - diet coke & apples for me and senior / light food for madam from now on .... wonder if she'd like to join me on the Wii-Fit?

Green Fingered

I have astonished myself today - I have managed to get a Lisianthus - given to me as a newly potted gift a while back - to flower! The Texas Bluebell as it is also known, is beautiful. Stunning white & pale green lisianthus made up the bulk of my wedding bouquet & I have loved them ever since. They are quite hard to grow but clearly lots of attention, regular watering & an undisturbed space in our conservatory did the trick! My little effort is the pale pink & white one on the left. The purple one on the right is how it should look!

The next green fingered mission is to get my Amaryllis to flower....

Ah, the perfect blend!

Everbody needs good neighbours as the song goes and this weekend we saw not just a good one but a brilliant one! The ex-Neighbours hearthrob (who can forget the 80's cheesefest that was Charlene & Scott's teenage wedding?), now star of the stage & Strictly, the wonderful Jason Donovan has restored my faith in what was proving to be a rather average SCD this year. Lulu is just dreadful; wooden, clueless & shocking to watch - go home now dear - and as for Edwina Currie flashing her knickers... Oh please! But our Jason - well, what a groovy little mover, what a stunning Cha Cha Cha!

I bet Kristina Rhianoff is in heaven; after years of suffering rhythmically challenged lumps with no chance of winning (think John Seargent & Joe Calzaghe - she was even first out last year with Goldie), she finally has a dancer! Even Craig who was more sour than usual with all the other couples, couldn't find anything really bad to say - 'Bonza, you beauty!' indeed. Wonder if Kylie is tuning in? One thing's for sure, from now on I will be.

Little Weed?

This second coming of summer is all very well but alongside the joys of the KC sunbathing blissfully in 28 degrees and the flowers loving it (the roses are blooming again!) the darned weeds are also thoroughly enjoying themselves! I have yet to get on top of them post the back fiasco and now here we have a second wind (if you will) meaning that the bits I did manage to clear are starting to go all green & grotty again whilst the bits I didn’t get ‘round to are redefining the word overgrown & and having lost my patio hook (world’s best garden tool) the weeds in the paving up by the FauxTemple are thriving & HUGE!

Oh lucky Bill & Ben, they lived in a blissful fantasy garden where Little Weee-ee-eed was a delightful friend to the flowerpot men, not a mortal enemy.