- doing the Etape Caledonia in less than 6 hours
- growing a horseradish
- learning how to make a souffle
- running for 30 minutes without dying
- less shouting at the telly
…. of 2009.
- Horseradish. I took up eating this root in a big way. I put it on my sandwiches, on my potatoes, on cheese, on oatcakes & salmon. Also extended my wasabi (wasabi is just foreign-ish for horseradish) intake, in particular wasabi peas. Fortunately I have stomach of ox so can wolf loads of horseradish with no ill effect. This news just in: plan to grow a horseradish in my garden next year.
- Spotify. OMG it’s the best thing ever to happen to music since the iPod was invented. I even took out a subscription and can now download tunes to my iPhone and computa. I love Spotify.
- Talking of the iPhone …. the iPhone. It’s the best!
- Oysters. love them. Love them. LOVE them. But not a dozen. That’s too many and can cause the drastic-gastric.
- Lochinver. It’s North. It’s restful. And the sun always shines there except when it rains and when it snows.
- Le Chef obviously. Well I have to say that, don’t I? Although he has not extended his skills to include oyster and horseradish preparations. He will need to improve me thinks.
- No more Mr George Dubya Bush. Who?
- Appellation Wines, the new wine shop near my house. It has Cremant d’Alsace, the official Nectar of The Gods. Crement d’Alsace is the new prosecco (and prosecco was previously the new cava, which itself was the new champagne).
- Prezi for presentations. I’m always trying to make my presentations better. Prezi helps one escape shackles of PowerPoint or at least teach a different way to do things. Beware of making audience puke due to over use of zoom-i-fication tho’.
- Initial weed to veggie patch deployment of garden. Having retired the allotment, grew tonnes of potatoes in my garden and a gladioli. Next year further fine vegetable will be grown. Mibe.
Dear Bank Manager
I am very sorry about that cheque I wrote. Would be most grateful if you’d some how find some money from somewhere to honour it. No need to look in my bank account though. I suggest you speak with Mr Brown coz he is mysteriously able to magic up money from nowhere.
Monies were required to pay for my camera habit. Three new lens for my Canon, a remote control and super-fast memory card. And one of the lens is so cute and called a Lens Baby so I just couldn’t resist.
So I’ll try not to write a cheque like that again, well at least not until next time
Posted by Sandy | Posted in exaggeration / lies, kultchur, whimsy | Posted on 22-01-2009
Slips on Film Critic hat.
Beware spoilers below.
Went to the cinema. I am quite the cinematic type person now coz I am being trained at work how to do video-ing and editing and storyboarding and throwing tantrums in a Barbra Streisand stylee. My favourite thing to do is tantrum throw and edit. I am hoping to get the the letters B.S.C. (British Society of Cinematographers) after my name. Oh … eh … I already have those letters after my name. Hmmm. Aaaaanyyyway, I went to the cinema ….
… to see The Reader. With Kate Winslet, Ralph (don’t call me Ralph call me Raaaayyffff) Feinnes, Hitler Bruno Gantz and a boy. Well I didn’t go with these people to the cinema obviously, they were in the film. I was eager to go see this film coz it has Nazis in it. I do like a Nazi. Well, not really, of course. I don’t really like Nazis but I like them in films in the way that I like Daleks, serial killers and zombies. Must stop now before I put foot any further in mouth.
So …. here it is ….
Synopsis: don’t shag illiterate Nazis coz it will end in tears and a rope round someone’s neck
Cinematography: oh I seemed to have missed that so busy was I looking at Kate Winslet’s makeup
Characterisation: Miss Winslet played Nazi well (not Oscar nomination worthy though) and got deserved come-uppence. Mr Feinnes was as pained and painful as ever, Hitler Bruno Gantz didn’t do any shouting and didn’t even have a proper German access (he’s Swiss don’t u know) and the boy was the star of the show.
Was The Guardian review correct? I think three stars is more like it.
Next week: Slumdog millionnaire ……
Fast Tony bounds in to my office.
But will Obama mow my lawn?
God yes, Tony and he’ll do the hoovering too.
I get home. I wonder what we’ll have for tea.
Oh look there’s the President on the doorstep with a gourmet meal for two.
So his schedule is:
- Thursday: finish the war in Iraq and Afghanistan
- Friday: cure global warming and re-freeze the ice caps
- Saturday: do my laundry, save the banks, restore peace to Gaza
- Sunday: rest. Is he God? Probably not but ….
Yes.
Do it!
Close the door.
Turn the volume up.
And pretend to be Freddy!
Do it.
Everything will be better after.
See what I mean.
… en vacance. Or rather I was en vacance but my francais does not extend to past participle-ishness. I was en vacance up a big hill in France struggling to catch my breath before launching myself downhill fast on two planks of wood.
While up the big hill in France I learned three new words thereby extending my French vocabulary to 3 verbs (two of which are irregular) 15 nouns and an adjective. Fluency approaches. More of these words another time.
I get up out of bed.
- I take off my pyjamas and put on my cycling clothes.
I arrive at work.
- And take off my cycling clothes and put on my work clothes.
I go cycle to the gym at lunchtime.
- So take off my work clothes and put on my cycling clothes.
I arrive at the gym.
- And take off my cycling clothes and put on my gym clothes.
I finish at the gym.
- And take off my gym clothes and put on my cycling clothes.
I arrive at work again.
- And take off my cycling clothes and put on my work clothes.
I finish work.
- So take off my work clothes and put on my cycling clothes.
I arrive home.
- So take off my cycling clothes and put my loafing around at home clothes.
I fret about my skiing holiday.
- And take off my home clothes and put on my ski pants, jacket, hat and gloves to ensure I look the part.
I check in the mirror and decided fretting was unnecessary.
- I take off my ski pants, jacket, hat and gloves and put on my home clothes.
I go for my shower.
- I take off my home clothes and am naked for a while.
I finish my shower.
- I put on my pyjamas.
I go to bed but not before sighing at the HUGE pile of washing I need to do.
While sleeping I dream of all the things I could be doing if I wasn’t changing my clothes all the time.
I have been invited to give a talk at a local Rotary Club about my cycling trip across America. I am beyond excitement about being asked. I feel quite grown up now. And it’s another chance to show off / be smuggish (which is not very grown up at all).
And then I started wondering what sort of organisation The Rotary Club is, and the Wikipedia (it must be true then eh?) said they were all round good eggs and do lots of charity stuff. I raised £666 (yes I know!) for Arthritis Research on my trip so I think that’s why they are asking me.
My only slight concern is whether there is any rivalry between such good egg type clubs. Will they let me in to their Club rooms if I tell them that I was hanging out with Freemasons in Maine? I did. I really did. (The Masons are much less controversial in Umerica than here and they actually come out on to the street).
[Note to the non-Britishers: when we say pants here we do not mean trousers we mean underwear. You know, as in PANTS.]
But they are a ridiculous colour! says Le Chef when I ask him why he hasn’t worn his Christmas Pants yet.
The Yule Pants were a very thoughtful gift from me and I am a little put out that they haven’t had an outing yet.
Colour of these pants is no reason not to wear them especially given that he wore purple … yes, PURPLE nylon y-fronts when I first met him.
His new fair trade, organic cotton pants are only mildly electric blue.
Well, they are in fact very very electric blue.
But they are nice and they have wings on the back.
Yes they do.
They have wings.
No! Not those sorts of wings!
Wings like an angel.
Well not quite.
But almost.
Likewise I have a pair of similar Yule Pants for Grrls.
But mine are very very electric red.
With wings on the back.
But smaller wings.
Obv!
Buy these pants and save the world from … eh sensible underwear.
