finally, I know it’s spring
I’ve just heard the first ice cream van of the year.
I’ve just heard the first ice cream van of the year.
from today’s Times
“Consumers do not, in the end, take kindly to an overweening monopoly, especially when it squeezes out competition and dictates its own terms. In towns that face the massive intrusion of new superstores, opposition is mounting.”
I wonder if there’s anything that can be done to stop their inexorable march …
Tescopoly seems to be down at the moment, but SchNews has an article on yesterday’s profit figures.
highly recommended is Whittards‘ Spice Imperial tea.
“Spiced tea, like spiced wine has long been a popular, reviving and refreshing drink. We have used a smoothly full Ceylon tea to cope with the combined forces of cinnamon, cloves, vanilla and orange peel. “
I’ve developed quite an addition to it.
| You Are a Blue Flower |
![]() A blue flower tends to represent peace, openness, and balance. At times, you are very delicate like a cornflower. And at other times, you are wise like an iris. And more than you wish, you’re a little cold, like a blue hydrangea. |
as those of you who have visited Ramtops’ Repose will know, we have a dutch airer device suspended in the kitchen, from which we hang kitchen paraphenalia such as colanders and spoons and so forth. It also supports a two tier wire hanging basket, which is our onion repository.
at least, it did – until last night when, as I was trying to remove a shallot from its upper tier, the bloody basket fell off and, pausing only to smite me on my head, deposited its oniony contents all over the worktop, and knocking over the bowl for Stuff destined for Modo, the compost heap, thus adding used tealeaves and so forth to the mess.
I gave an almighty shriek, probably bloodcurdling – from shock, more than anything – and perlmonger rushed downstairs to see what horrors a cat had perpetrated, because that’s what normally causes shrieks in this household. Although now I come to think of it, I bet SomeCat had somehow caused it.
later on, we watched Ray, which was better than I thought it would be; in fact, it was very fine indeed. Recommended.
when it was over, I found myself with one particular song from it running through my head – You Don’t Know Me. But it wasn’t his version … It took a while to identify it, but eventually I sussed that it was Meryl Streep, from Postcards From the Edge, another very fine film which I must watch again shortly.
“Reply to this entry by posting a picture of yourself, then post this sentence in your own journal.”
perlmonger took this last autumn – I gave marypcb some info and quotes for an article she was writing, and she wanted a headshot to go with it.
get your own banner here and pass it on.
“When Did You Stop Loving Me, When Did I Stop Loving You” |The Very Best Of Marvin Gaye | Marvin Gaye
should anyone wonder where I’ve been for the past ten days – well, I’m sorry, I have a cold.
I woke up on Sunday 2nd feeling very groo, but I put that down to over-carousing with agc the night before. Mind you, I don’t often suffer with hangovers, but …
on the Monday, I still felt vile, and I hadn’t drunk *that* much on Saturday. 4 a.m. on Tuesday I woke up and couldn’t breath, as my nose was blocked. Things just went downhill from there – earache, cough, sore throat, fever, dizzy spells, and permanent lethargy. I did hardly any work, on a few occasions I collapsed on the sofa *without a laptop*, and I felt extremely ill for a week. I’ve taken Sudafed, Actifed, Lemsip max, paracetemol, ibuprofen, Lucozade (aren’t all these things expensive?!). I haven’t had a drink in 11 days, apart from one tiny medicinal whisky on 3 April.
I’m just starting to feel better today – not well, but better – and now perlmonger seems to be coming down with it.
sniff.
budleysalterton drew this to my attention this afternoon – it is already ordered.
being tired and hungry, we thought we’d have some porridge this morning, so I found the box with the oats in, and bung the requisite amounts of them, the milk and the water into a bowl, and placed it in the microwave.
and only then noticed that the bag said “best before April 03″. How bad could it be, I thought? When they were cooked, they didn’t smell very appetising, to be honest; so perlmonger had a rummage in the cupboard where we keep such things, and emerged triumphantly waving another bag of porridge oats.
“best before 2000″, it said.
so we’re still hungry.