Friday, January 11, 2008

Half Cut Marathon here we come

Ooo I have been beaten at scrabble by Rachael. Mind you- I had drunk half a bottle of red and the board was sideways on, so it was to be expected! I was so sozzled at one point that I put the word 'GE' down, and also tried to put 'UNO' and 'OXO'. Oh dearie me.
We were in such high spirits that we decided last night that we're going to do the Mayor of Lydd's Charity Half Marathon this March, so I'd better get my trainers back on... Why do I do it to myself?
Have managed this last half of the week to continue getting freebies at every turn. Yesterday and today I have had the offer of breakfast at two of the mums' houses. I have accepted both of course. Mind you, one of them was in exchange for helping her clean her flat for the landlord. It's a weird experience when you don't know someone all that well and there you are, doing their drying up and making their daughter's bed. But I get another free meal out of it tomorrow as she's coming over to mine to cook me some posh chicken dish.
Made bangers and mash last night with onion gravy; here is my recipe for the gravy - it's dead easy and it MAKES this meal:

Cathy's Onion Gravy
1 onion, chopped fine
150ml red wine (drink the rest obviously)
150ml beef stock
salt and pepper

Cook sausages in a roasting tin in a knob of butter. When cooked remove and keep warm. Add onions to fat and cook until slightly soft. Add wine, stock and seasoning and de-glaze roasting tin. Bring to boil and simmer for 20 mins. Pour over bangers and mash.


Thursday, January 10, 2008

Freedom!

Apart from if I count the numerous yoga classes I've attended and the times in my life when I have been asleep, this is officially the most relaxed I have been in 30 years. For the first time in 5 years I have 6 hours a day to myself, 5 days a week. Ok so I had hours of free time to myself before I became a mother, but I never appreciated it like this. Although much of this me-time is now spent trying to find a part time job, or sorting out our flat which is in a constant squat-like state, it's still very laid back. I don't have to clock watch as I have liturally hours until I have to pick up my little one. I miss her but hell am I enjoying this bit. Maybe next week I'll be going insane, but for now I will enjoy the peace and quiet time of me-ness. I'm off to write some more letters to friends that I miss, and to drink some herbal tea very slowly. It's like I've come to the end of a 5 year contract for a job that was 24 hours a day. It's still parenting, and she can still impersonate the girl in the Exorcist from time to time, but there is a big space to breathe in between so that I can enjoy her even more.

Did anyone see the Hugh FW programme this week that's been about free range chicken? The man is a genius; he actually got Andy and I both in tears over the welfare of poultry. I usually buy free range anyway but I will always now. I'm loving Big Food Fight week on channel 4: let's hope it makes a difference to people's attitudes. See http://www.channel4.com/food/ for more info.

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Abigail's Party eat your heart out

Have a slight headache after the cheese and wine and words party last night turned into a cheese and GIN and words party. It was great fun to see lovelies Joy and Geoff, and scoff our faces with crackers and Wensleydale, AND I won the Scrabble contest!- even with Scrabble genius Geoff Westby to contend with- I only won by the hair of my teeth though(is that correct? No). Either I am in fact getting rather good at this game or Geoff, who was keeping score, was just being a nice chap and fiddled the results. I also learnt a new word- LUGE: a light toboggan ridden in a sitting or lying position. Thank you Joy.
When we opened the Scrabble box that had once belonged to my parents (they handed it over to me this Christmas)- and bear in mind it hadn't been used since the late 70s/early 80s- the smells took us all straight back to our childhoods- well it took Andy back to his early 20s. The tile bag itself contained a mixture of plastic, electrical and library smells culminating in a complete mental summary of that era. I could even hear the sound of Abba and see my dad's Magnum moustache in my mind as I inhaled. It was rather weird. I wish I could bottle that smell forever.
Last night was such a success that Andy and I have decided to invite friends over every week for an evening of food, booze and board games. When we had decided this I immediately went to the cupboard for a pen and some paper to write a list of all the people we could have over. How tragic. I am one of those list-writing types you see. The list was quite long mind. Andy said that when I die my epitaph should read:
'Hang on a minute- I haven't written a list.....'

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

What are we like? (lazy skankers if you must know)

I feel a mixture of self-annoyance and smugness today. The annoyance with myself is that our local fishmonger has had to close down and I feel sad about this but then I realise that I never really bought my fish from him enough, and chose to go to Tesco or Waitrose instead on far too many occasions. Many people would think that fair enough, as life can be busy, especially when children are about, and nipping across the road to a supermarket is more convenient than traipsing across town in the wind and rain to get some fish. But this fishmonger, and his name is Nigel Sayers, was a clever chap (although obviously still didn't drum up enough trade), and offered customers the chance to ring him to order fish and have it delivered it to your door by bicycle for free. I think I went to him about 5 times a year which is shameful. I get angry with people who are ignorant about food, and are lazy about where they buy it and don't think about where or how it got there, but I am just as bad. I got on a bus today and Nigel Sayers was driving it. These are sad times. Thank god for the likes of crusaders like Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and Jamie Oliver. Go and use independent food suppliers people! Or soon they will be a thing of the past. I am going to do it more that's for sure.
Anyway- onto my smugness. In January all the local gyms are desperately trying to fool people into becoming members of their establishments, hoping that the new year guilt will spur punters on. SO- they are giving free trial runs to ANYONE. This means you can go to lots of these luxury leisure centres for nowt during this month, and the only catch is that some spotty teenager sits you down for 10 minutes (but they do get you free tea) and trys to sell you stuff. Just ignore this bit, sup your tea fast so you get another, and enjoy a nice swim, sauna and the novelty of using a changing room that smells of expensive wood rather than piss. Or you can play tennis, use the gym or whatever. This is what we've just spent this afternoon doing (I really must start writing The Book now that Sadie has started full time school but one week of living it up won't hurt) and it was bliss. We spent two hours swimming, steaming ourselves or sitting in a jacuzzi for NOTHING. Hence my smugness. Unfortunately, another minor downside is that you get lots of other free-wheelers in there. We had the luxury of sharing the jacuzzi with three Vicky Pollards. All they talked about for 10 minutes were boob jobs. I kid ye not. But using a free, swanky gym is a fab way to enjoy dismal January. Warning however: choose the time you go carefully. Generally, off peak times are best and also when the self-pampering isn't interrupted with an aqua-aerobics class or such like. There I was, dreamily swimming along in the relative peace and serenity of the warm waters, I pushed myself out of the pool in my far-too-tight swimsuit to stand on the side of the pool when suddenly Tom Jones' 'Sex Bomb' came booming from the speakers. The wrinklies had turned up for their aqua workout. I had to walk around the entire pool to get to the changing room, with this cheesy number being my accompaniment. Very embarrassing. Despite this, we plan to work our way around all the gyms in Brighton and Hove this month without spending a penny.

Saturday, January 5, 2008

Immortal Fish

Well- what a lovely welcome home we've had. Although it could have always been worse. We arrived back last night to a very post-Christmas flat (note- we had headed off on our travels around the UK very hungover on Boxing Day morning) which was bad enough. We found out that the fish hadn't been fed by our neighbour (he had been drunk when we'd asked him) but they were just surviving, I slid on the goose fat that was still on the kitchen floor (apparantely it takes months to get rid of), the pine needles were everywhere, scrunched and ripped wrapping paper was flowing from every bin, and, just as we were putting off the tidying up and settling down to a nice mug of hot herbal tea, it all got ten times worse. The shelf with the fish tank on which sits directly above our TV, CD player and DVD player, decided to leap off the wall- causing chaos everywhere. Broken glass, shocked pets and fish-poo water were strewn halfway across the flat, and across all our electricals. We now have no sound system and a tv that fizzles when I watch it so I think it's best left off. The carpet is damp and smells a bit. Our fish are surprisingly OK, after we found one under the dining table and the other wriggling under a shard of glass, that 2mm closer would have garotted him. Him and his mate are now swimming about happily in my teapot. Not a nice thing to deal with when you've come home after holiday, but thank f@£k it didn't happen when we were away or we would have come back to broken glass, DEAD pets and fish-poo water everywhere.
Andy and I took this as God's way of making sure we watch less television. We have been glued to the box all week (unless you count our intermittent Scrabble championships- I'm beating him by miles by the way), as in Devon we had cable (which we don't have at home) so we were in channel-flicking heaven until about 1am every night. I now realise why I usually go to bed around 10pm at home- because terrestrial tv is pants after 10 o'clock (unless you count Shameless which is brilliant).

Thursday, January 3, 2008

Super Bore Me

Did anyone see that ITV documentary last night 'The Truth About Binge Drinking' with some prototype singer from Liberty X? It followed her having a month-long drinking session to show viewers the 'real affects of drinking too much'. What a load of shit that was- the worst thing that happened to her was that her voice (her 'livelihood' as she called it) went a bit croaky, her very boring husband was worried when she came home later than midnight, and she got snapped in a gossip mag looking a bit boss-eyed with an ex Big Brother contestant. Jesus- now I know MY drinking antics aren't that rock n' roll anymore (my idea of a good session involves a lot of sitting, eating and a good film- Hello Anna who we just spent new year with- sorry it wasn't your wildest night away) but I haven't agreed to be filmed for a 90 minute documentary. I wouldn't inflict watching my boring life on anyone. You can read about it in my blog if you so choose, but I hope I don't profess to be the epitome of anything, and claim to prove things about other people's lives along the way. Yes-the Liberty X bird was drinking too much (they estimated she was having about 75 units per week, although she must have got too pissed to remember to write all her units in her little black book, so it was probably more)and that isn't great, but it didn't prove anything new. Obviously drinking 4 times the amount of the recommended weekly quantity is going to make you feel tired, have an effect on your memory and your immune system. Whoopy f@£king do!! I should have stuck to stimulating board games instead of being lured in by the wide screen.
I once had my drinking diary published in More! magazine, along with a few others. Some doctors came along and analysed what we had drunk and commented on whether we needed help or not. According to them- I did. I had an unusual week that week as I hadn't been at work and had some money so obviously I went a bit wild- well, I was young and single for crying out loud. It would have been a bit sad if I hadn't. I ended up having so much fun that on one of my many benders, I went home with Dennis Pennis. Not a bad time was had all in all. But I was 21, having fun. I kept a diary and back at More! HQ Channel 5's Richard Arnold (yes- that orange faced chatshow host- he had to start somewhere- gosh I am name dropping with all these g-listers am I not) and I worked out that I had ended up consuming 101 units that week (about 50 were with the Pennis). I was a bit embarrassed (although Richard's comment was 'Good girl!') and those 'experts' were horrified, but I have lived to tell the tale and laugh about it. I would never be able to drink that much anymore- not only because I am a mum and don't really get drunk in the proper falling over/seeing double sense, but my body won't allow it. I'm getting older and I don't want wake up every day feeling like I've been attacked by a hungry baby walrus . I got that over-indulging bit of my life out of the way (well- with the booze- now I greedily slavver on expensive, Waitrose ingredients) and don't regret it. I had a liver check up about 2 years ago and it's fine. I think the nation needs something like alcohol to keep it feeling fruity, and it's down to the individual how much they choose to poison themselves. I just wish they'd stop trying to tell us the truth, because we already know it's bad for us, and maybe that makes the stuff just a little bit more appealing....

Soundtrack: Adam and the Ants- Goody Two Shoes

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Country Living and Coming off the wagon

God well I have already blown one of my new year's resolutions... to not drink for a month to see if it helps stop my IBS, bad periods, facial numbness and tendency to say completely the wrong things at the wrong moments to the wrong people(it doesn't look good after 24 hours of being on the wagon-I just get very moody and I'm not prepared to see what happens if I abstain for longer-there might be a murder...).
We are still in Devon enjoying rural life. Popped into a lovely little fairy lit pub on the way back from Somerfield today; we were enjoying our beverages by the light of the open fire, we played Dominoes and Hangman, and then the beardy landlord joined us. He started telling us about his little three year old girl (who had befriended Sadie while we were there) who nearly died as a baby of the flesh eating bug necrotising fasciitis and how she is lucky to be alive. He thinks she got it on the moors. It had left her with a third of her head missing. She was a very sweet girl and was enjoying having Sadie there to play with, but we soon downed our pints, left a tip and drove off as fast as we could. Well I mean- you can't be too careful.
It was like a Fast Show sketch only without the hilarity and with a little bit more nausea.
It's a funny time of year this- the anti climax after glitter, gifts and giddy aunts. Not a good time to be sober. This time last year we were looking forward to a five week trip to India. Now all we see before us is black skies, numb toes and the sales. I'm off to get more plonk and challenge Andy to a game of Scrabble while Sadie is watching Charlie and Lola. Well- what else is there to do?

Soundtrack: The Strokes- Is this it?