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I couldn’t resist…

The lamb from yesterday’s adventure. There aren’t many speckled flocks around. Incidentally, the lambing starts in earnest in about three weeks. Spring is coming!

I had some elderly bananas hanging around, so I have just made banana bread. This is one of those American foods that confuses Brits. For one thing, it’s clearly a cake, not a bread. They have banana cake here, but it’s light and fluffy not heavy and dense. At least, all my banana bread recipes are heavy and dense. And very rich.

I think they’re just being polite when they compliment it. They’re embarrassed for me and my inability to bake a light cake. If I called it a ‘heavy banana loaf’ or something, I bet it would go over better.

They have a thing called Soreen, which is denser even than banana bread, so it’s not outside the realm of British foods. There’s even a banana flavored Soreen.

It’s all in the marketing.

I would like British bacon 100% more if they relinquished the holy name of bacon and called it ‘chewy pork slices’ instead.

March 4, 2020 — 8:15 pm
Comments: 13

Silly Nordics…

This was promoted in my Twitter tonight (for those non-Twittererers, a promoted tweet is a paid advertisement). Yes, Nordic Cuddle is real (and worth a visit for gawking purposes). The CEO even has a TEDx talk on the virtues of cuddling.

And she looks Nordic.

Now, I’m not saying this is prostitution. I’m saying 100% of the men who book a cuddle at home will do so believing it’s prostitution. How they safeguard these poor women I can’t imagine.

Unless it is just prostitution.

Flu update: hey, remember I told you I knew someone local in quarantine? She came to see me at work today. She’d done her 14 days. Fourteen days is ten days too little.

February 25, 2020 — 8:29 pm
Comments: 9

Cozy

The little one likes fire. Yes, he does. Here he is big and in color.

He also likes laps and annoying the hell out of big cat. They’ve been running back and forth like a Tom and Jerry cartoon all week. A little hissing and biting, but well within the appropriate bounds of brotherly bant.

Speaking of fire, the conservative(!) government has today announced a ban on the burning of coal and wet wood in households. There are rural people this will very much affect.

Not us. We gave up actual coal for solid fuel — they’re like charcoal briquets — but that ain’t the point. As Uncle B likes to grumble, the Greens never get more than 3% of the vote here, but all their policies get enacted anyway.

I don’t know what they’re putting up their noses if they think we can get rid of non-electric cars in 15 years, but there you go.

Have a lovely weekend, everyone!

February 21, 2020 — 8:59 pm
Comments: 11

Pff!

They billed Ciara as the ‘storm of the century’. Dude. I’m not even sure it was the storm of the last six months (we had some nasties in September).

We had high winds, sure. But — at least where we are — not far out of the ordinary, and not much rain. We didn’t even lose power.

The seas were high and I gather there was flooding in places that got more rain. Hence the picture. Not mine. Don’t know whose it is. It was the most stolen Tweet on Twitter yesterday.

Now, the Coronavirus? Doubled our cases overnight to eight, all due to one ‘super spreader’ who came from a conference in Singapore and infected a group of people in France, too. Brighton clinic on lockdown. Yes, that’s in our general area.

Wot fun!

February 10, 2020 — 9:06 pm
Comments: 6

Happy Brexit Day, errbody!

 

 

 

This is a bottle of proper British sparkling wine. The vinyard isn’t far from us. Like many of the best English wines, it’s been winning international blind taste tests, which really pisses off the French. So, perfect.

It’s going to take a year at least to work out various trade and travel agreements with Europe, and everyone assumes Boris will sell us down the river in the end. He’s very much a member of the ruling class, after all, and probably a Remainer in his secret heart.

Nonetheless, it is a Very Big Day, Not To Be Ignored.

I think I managed to dissuade Uncle B from setting off a rocket at 11 (midnight in Germany, the official Brexit). He wanted to aim it over the house of our neighbor who took to her bed for a week after the results of the referendum were announced.

Geez, dude, she’s insufferable enough as it is!

Oh, and we got our first two confirmed Coronavirus cases today.Have a good weekend, everyone.
 

 

 

 

 

January 31, 2020 — 6:36 pm
Comments: 15

Woke-o Ono

Blatant ripoff. I saw someone post an image like this to Twitter yesterday and wished I’d thought of it. I was gonna post his image, but I looked and looked and couldn’t find it. Honest.

Anyway, neither one of us came up with Woke-o Ono. I don’t know who coined that.

As an American living in Sussex, you can imagine how delightful this episode has been for me. Common consensus: she’s a wrong’un and they should be stripped of their titles.

You and I, we don’t have to worry about such things. Good weekend, all!

January 10, 2020 — 9:00 pm
Comments: 10

This is seriously an argument that rages

What goes first on a scone, the jam or the clotted cream? Honest to god, the arguments.

If you’ve not had clotted cream (I hadn’t before I moved here), it’s heavy cream that is cultured until it’s thick and gooey, with a yellow crust on top. It’s gorgeous. But it obviously has to go on first, because considerable force is used. If the jam went first, it would squish out everywhere.

I say first, but they also serve it with pat of butter, and that goes on FIRST first. Argument raging here.

Changing the subject, I stood chatting with someone outside my place of work today and something thumped off the back of my head. It was a glob of moss. Thrown by a pigeon.

Then he did it twice more.

I had a poke around the web and it seems lots of bird pluck moss off rooftiles, presumably to get at the delicious bugs underneath. I didn’t learn why a belligerent sky rat would fling them at people, but I did learn you can run a copper wire down the peak of the roof and rainwater makes a gentle trickle of moss-spore-killing copper sulphate.

Neat. Except I like mosses.

January 7, 2020 — 8:56 pm
Comments: 11

Jolly Olde

Uncle B ventured out for some weekend supplies. He sent me these labels from the posh local grocery. If you can’t quite make it out, it’s £77 and £97 for a turkey crown [that’s a breast to you and me], and £87 for a goose (according to my currency converter, that’s $100.211, $126.239 and $113.221 in today’s money). No, ours didn’t cost nearly that much and we got a whole fancy bird.

Still no joy on the new cat front. The worst are the people who leave their ads in after they’ve sold the cat and then don’t get back to you when you contact them. Feh. People. ‘Swhy I prefer cats.

In the thread before this one, Drew458 asked if we were getting the rain that the BBC is blathering about. We’re personally not flooded, but there’s flooding around us in Sussex. The ditch at the side of our driveway is worrying and the fields are standing in water.

But IFITDOESN’TSTOPRAININGISHALLKILLSOMETHING. I mean it. I’m losing my mind. In the past three months, I can literally only remember ONE day that it didn’t rain, and that was last Wednesday. And it’s desperately dark all the time.

The worst is the chickens. They’re wet and muddy and miserable and no matter how often I shovel out their various houses and enclosures, it’s all wet again next day. If I don’t keep mucking it out and replacing it somebody’s going to get sick. The ground around them wobbles like jelly and is slick as snot, and I’ve got some kind of rat taking advantage of the soft earth and tunnelling in to get leftover food.

BUT! BUT! We’ve bought all our everything, the fridge is full, the tree is lovely, there’s a bottle of cheap champagne cooling and I am now off work for the next two weeks! So a very merry weekend to all of you, and I’ll see you again on Christmas Eve eve.

December 20, 2019 — 8:34 pm
Comments: 18

Christmas came early

Please. Stop. I can only take so much schadenfreude. Twitter has been a delight today. (Above is antifa, flailing their little noodly arms at London police tonight).

Turns out, this was Labour’s worst showing in an election since 1935.

But my favorite story was the LibDems. They were the only party that ran specifically on the slogan “Stop Brexit” and were poised to pick up all the Remain voters who were disenchanted with Labour’s waffling on the issue. At one point, it looked like this election could really revive their brand.

Two things happened. First, even a lot of Remain voters had second thoughts about totally ignoring a democratic vote.

And second, their leader, Jo Swinson, did the talkshow circuit in the runup to the election. She stubbornly and repeatedly insisted that there was simply no reliable way to tell human males and females apart.

Turns out, her party took very large money from a company that makes puberty blockers. This enraged the feminists who might otherwise have voted LibDem. She ended up losing her own seat by 149 votes.

But the best moment in the election was Diane Abbott’s shoes.

December 13, 2019 — 9:56 pm
Comments: 18

Spotted on the road

I’m torn on this one. On the one hand, you remember the name. On the other, Googling it is fraught and you’d surely lose the prude custom.

Not my pic. I saw the van twice today and didn’t have a camera ready either time. It’s from their Facebook page.

If you think it’s a Brit humor thing, there’s also one in Louisville, Kentucky.

Not to be outdone, there is Cold, Hard Nipples Air Conditioning in Nicosia, Cyprus.

Kentucky and Cyprus have more of a need for this kind of thing, obvsly.

December 2, 2019 — 8:40 pm
Comments: 10