Well! It has been a long time since I last wrote, but your
post simply could not keep me away! =)
It just so happens that this very night, I was taken in
potato mashing and, to keep myself going during the mashing process (which,
depending on how raw/ cooked your potatoes are, can be quite lengthy) I recited
to myself those carefully prepared and ingeniously delivered lines of yours.
The transformative effect was quite something to behold. All of a sudden, I was
a curvy brunette with a deep and abiding passion for food….in my head, I
consoled myself lovingly…. ‘It’s only a whopping knob of butter….Nigella cooks
like this all the time’. I fantasised that I was a famous chef….mashing
potatoes in my Rachel Allen bowl did not help either. Then I missed you, my
fellow virtual chef! Then I noticed that
my potatoes were looking like the wrong side of Velcro and, my bottom lip
curled in despondence until a familiar phrase replaced the twinkle in my eyes…as
if by magic, yours and Nigella’s voices came into my mind and, with hands
extended reassuringly, they said “Don’t worry! Milk is your friend”. And boy was
it! It saved the day with its creamy lashings caressing my mashed potato,
soothing it into a smooth, creamy delight…..
Anyway, on with other matters. So, I am a working girl now
(no, not like the ones with the Tiffany Lampshades). I am a PA, so they tell
me! I power dressed the first day….cream Oxbow trousers, short green jacket…you
know, you know. Only to feel very underdressed so, back to jeans it is. As I
walk to work though, I do feel that underneath my coat is a smashing black
pinstriped pencil skirt suit, court shoes and a fitted white shirt. Then, I go
and get my Decaff latte with non-fat nothing, because I don’t drink coffee…but
the thought of collecting my bespoke hot drink is always there. I then try not
to look down at my shabby fake Toms and my bottle of crusha. It ruins the image
somewhat! Besides all of my daydreaming, I love my job. I am learning so much!
So much, in fact that I believe I could convincingly tell you how to protect
your carpet from Agent Orange and Shrapnel. =) Each day at work is filled with
tiny victories that make me feel satisfied and successful. A small mercy. =)
Would you like to hear something amusing?? Well, the other
day, I went into sainsbury’s to buy a few lemons… I have taken to regularly
keeping some fresh lemon juice in the fridge to add zing to water or to soothe
any ailed senses in a hot drink form. So, on this particular day, to nurse my
brewing cold, I bought these lemons and took them to the self-service machines.
I also saw the recipe magazine they offer free of charge, so I grabbed one of
those too and put it in my basket. NO sooner had I scanned each lemon, than I
started to reach for my magazine when some eager whippersnapper, polecat,
muckety-muck decided he would top his BCPH (Baskets Collected Per Hour) by
whisking my basket away. I literally had my arm extended ready to grab thin air
as he and my basket disappeared. My mouth was open….in awe…in surprise…in
disgust….in offence….poised ready to say “Erm…..excuse me….I actually wanted
that magazine”. When the words finally came out, he was oblivious. “Excuse…..erm….the
basket….The magazine….sorry…..it’s mine…I wanted….never mind.” Like a forlorn
goat, I rebuked my arm for remaining outstretched in mid-air for the entirety
of my one-sided conversation. Then, I shuffled away, lemons in hand. I soon
found where Basket biy had put my magazine. He’d put it on top of the Customer
Service counter. Quite right too!! I’ll give him customer service!! My recipe
book lay there….unwanted, unloved. Stolen away from a chance at happiness; an opportunity
to flee the stack, if you will…to mingle with other recipes…. An opportunity to
fill my shelves with light, colour and delicious potential. There it sat. I
looked Basket boy straight in his baskety eyes and picked up the magazine from its
lonely place on the side. With a sassy salute with the booklet, I left. PAH!
Take that PUNK! I reign victorious.
Tonight’s dinner was somewhat interesting. I made corned
beef hash. I always worry when meals have names like that, don’t you? Effective
advertising works in the home too…
“Honey, what’s for dinner tonight?”
“Corned beef hash!” (I say, enthusiastically, being fully
aware that what I have just said is a euphemism for ‘a hash of corned beef’)
“Ahh….is this one of your own recipes?”
(Come on! Give me some credit. If it was my own and I was
really trying to conceal the fact that it was a hash of corned beef, would I
really have called it Corned Beef Hash?? That begs the question, what would I
have called it? ‘Corned Beef Surprise’ might work…adding surprise at the end of
a meal always adds a touch of mystery and intrigue. Or perhaps ‘Corned Beef
confusion’ would work better. Still not out and out admitting it’s a mess that
looks as though it’s been through an animal a good few times, but acknowledging
the fact that it’s not exactly a pristine
cake. Then there’s the blatant falsehood option. It’s called “Roast Beef
and Potato delight”. The Satan principle…99% truth 1% lie. Definitely Beef and
definitely potato….definitely not roasted. =) See where I’m going with this??)
“No, my Mum used to make it all the time- I really liked it
growing up” (I mean, have you ever heard of a baby corned beef hash?)
“Cool.”
“SO….out of 10, darling…how much did you hate it?” I can
read vibes like Prince John collected taxes. Pretty darn well. He did like it
really but, when you think about the way it looks, and how it fills up your
mouth with nothing to chew exactly, it is a bit of a non-event sometimes. It is
tasty, it is easy, it is cheap…but it isn’t the way to a man’s heart. Remember
that, okay? It will serve you well.
The wheel bearing has gone on our car again. AGAIN! I told
Ieuan that I might call Dave or Andy for advice. We may not live close to home.
We may not have a perfect car. We may not have a private jet…but. We. Will.
ALWAYS. Have. DAVE! (This was the tag line I used on his promo poster. I think
his business will be booming.) His workshop should be called “We will always
have Dave!” or… “You will always have me!” or “Puppy eyes.com” I am confident
either will work. Aw, Dave. We love Dave. Nawww (waggling finger affectionately
at Dave).
Well, it’s time to retire. I love you. By the way, in my
calendar for today, it’s talk like DB day. Good luck with that!
Have a great evening….and don’t forget! We will always have
Dave. We will always have Philadelphia!
Snafs xxx
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