Cross Words on a Sunday.
And as the snow lies crisp and even…what will you be doing today?
One of the few pleasures of Olde Englande that I genuinely miss and am unable to replicate in any form here in the Dordogne – even Baked Beans can be conjured up from a tin of Haricot Blanc a la Tomate with a spoonful of tooth rotting sugar added, and guests can be prevailed upon to fill their suitcases with Yorkshire Tea Bags in place of a change of clothes (who cares if the guests then smell, they are like fish anyway, four days after arrival they should be thrown out and my morning cuppa is non-negotiable) – but the Sunday Times crossword on a freezing Sunday afternoon when it is too cold to do anything else is irreplaceable. Paying Five Pounds for a crumpled copy of half the ST on a Monday is just not the same.
Preferably, said copy of the ST should thud – quietly – through the door around 8am, just in time to wake a partner (but not yourself) and send him in search of the kettle so that he can deliver hot buttered toast and an ironed copy of the ST around 8.30. Unfortunately, even when I left England, the newspaper boy was going the way of affordable chimney sweeps – ours was driven by his Mother in a Rolls Royce, no less, for fear that he might get cold, wet or molested on his rounds…
I would start with the Culture section and work my way through to the crossword. The pleasure of deciphering ‘Father hit my leg, I see I never walked again’ and arriving at ‘PARAPLEGIC’ with the aid of the pencil kept beside my bed is muchly missed. Though ‘muchly’ would never meet the strict Ximenean principles of the Sunday Times. The Sunday Times we get here 24 hours later – at twice the price – doesn’t even have a culture section, just a ‘Best of the culture section’ reprinted on two or three pages. Snuggling up with a laptop under the bed clothes is progressivism too far for me. It turns Sunday into just another work day.
We are snowed in, frozen in even, here in the Dordogne. Mr G was leaping around at 5am looking for his torch and his boots to go up into the village and open all the sluice gates – the utter and unaccustomed silence had told him that the water was no longer flooding under our mill house but had backed up and was in danger of turning us into an island, marooned in ten acres of watery fields. Not a car stirs on the roads, there will be no market today, and we will all turn to living out of our freezers before the inevitable power cut robs us carefully stored supplies.
Unlike Britain, our news media will be telling us which roads are open, how to get from ‘a’ to ‘b’ without encountering too many problems, the children will still go to school tomorrow – some of them will walk, can you believe, along country roads with no designated footpath! – life will not come to a full halt. The British news is so defeatist – angry travellers swearing blind they will never go on holiday by British Airways again since a mere foot of snow is sufficient to rob them of their Ibiza holiday for 24 hours. A triple dip recession predicted now the worshippers of Mammon cannot get to the shops for a day or so. Stories centered on the one man who had to wait hours for the rescue services to turn up after he ignored warnings not to drive unless necessary in favour of going to check his lottery ticket…
Here, the Maire will tramp round the village, checking on the old and infirm and call in the air ambulance to remove anyone who might be endangered by the power cuts – Oh, we know there will be one, and we all have candles and stores of wood at the ready. It won’t come as a terrible shock, something ‘unacceptable in modern Britain’ – just the normal passage of unaccustomed weather patterns – when we moved here years ago, there were teenagers who had never seen snow in their entire lives. The French media don’t seem to have the same determination to depress everybody…
I shall spend the rest of the day cooking any fresh food, turning eggs into pastries and quiches, in case I can’t cook tomorrow. The hens are all huddled together in their coop, ignoring the cockerels cries to get up and enjoy the day, the geese have taken pity on the moorhens and allowed them to search for worms in their paddling pool, they’ve even allowed our disabled drake to get his leg over their precious Ailsa, our one and only duck that they normally guard like the virgin queen. The entire world is settling down to enjoy the day as best they can…
If I just had the Sunday Times crossword, life would be complete.
What will you be doing?
January 23, 2013 at 21:07
-
http://www.guardian.co.uk/crosswords
Here are some links
to UK & USA newspaper crosswords.
Not in the same class as The Times, I
guess, but might fill a gap or two.
http://www.independent.co.uk/extras/puzzles/crosswords/
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/coffeebreak/puzzles/crossWord.html
games.washingtonpost.com/
http://www.chicagotribune.com/…/chi-sa-crossword-htmlpage,0,419.
- January 21, 2013 at 10:55
-
An online subscription to The Times is about £9 a month. The crossword page
has a handy print button. No, it’s not quite the same experience, but that’s
probably more due to the feel of the paper, than anything else. As an added
bonus, you have full access to all the content behind the paywall, including
ST magazine. I’ve never been that good at crosswords, although I always used
to enjoy the one in T2. I don’t do cryptic.
- January 21, 2013 at
19:46
-
“An online subscription to The Times is about £9 a month.”
Something that has always *greatly* annoyed me about online subscriptions
and/or payment for individual online articles is the feeling that they’re
grossly overpriced. Think about how much profit the Times or other deadwood
subscription organs make per copy if that copy is delivered to your door. My
guess (and I’ll admit it’s a pure guess and *could* be totally off) would be
about one to two pounds per month after all their associated
printing/delivery/middleman costs. **IF** that guess is accurate, then why
should the e-version price be so inflated? And I run into a similar problem
quite frequently when I see news articles about smoking and secondary smoke
research that I’d like to criticize accurately: the articles never have
enough info, and unless the researchers are willing to send a courtesy
e-copy of their work it often costs 15 to 20 pounds just to get a single
three page article that takes up about 3% of the space in a single monthly
issue of a journal.
Thoughts?
MJM
- January 20, 2013 at 20:58
-
What will we be doing ? Well here on the Portuguese west coast at 9.00 pm
Friday night a great storm blew out of the west. As one expects at 11.00pm the
electricity failed, but replete with candles, also a blazing log fire we were
content going to bed happily after a few warming slurps, as Keith Floyd would
have it listening to the howls of wind and lashing rain. Awoken at 06.30hrs
for a wee, noticing regular flashes but no sound was puzzled. 0900hrs arose to
whistling & howling wind, not in the least abated, rather worse, still
sheeting rain. Across the road a large John Deere tractor was facing into the
storm pushing the trees on the edge of the road back onto that land while
traffic was queued up both up and down the highway. Portuguese EDP Electricity
men in yellow waterproofs were protecting themselves with an arm held high
against the storm while trying to read information from a large metal casing
beneath a transformer at the base of a concrete tower. Presently they all left
for other work. We still had no electricity. Then I realised, we could not
access the car or log store as all was underground in the ” cave” as it is
know locally , underground garage and store to us. This was because access is
via an electric shutter door from the ground floor. An alternative is via a
door from the rear garden into the workshop or the garage doors. Both have
double locking devises.
By six at night we had burnt our last log,
desperation plus the second bottle of red led me to go outside and down to the
rear with metal objects and break the glass in the workshop door, extract the
key from the inside lock and hey presto, open up. Still could not open the
electric door so had to load logs up the outside back way.
It was quite an
experience, no TV, no lighting, blazing fire, candles, conversation and Gin
Rummy.
At 0330hrs I was awoken by lights in the house. Electricity was
available again. We had left switches on. I got up and wandered around dowsing
them.
Dawn saw some wreckage. At least eight trees uprooted, besides two
bottles of wine where formerly there were six.
The seafront was alarming
with eight boats cast from their moorings up onto the beach and Cafes &
restaurants pumping ,and I do mean pumping out their premises and clearing
sand away.
According to “Wind Guru” we are due another dose on Tuesday.
Must stock up with candles & ,oh yes, Wine.
- January 20, 2013 at 21:17
-
I think we got the same storm, just east of Bordeaux – it was quite the
worst storm we have ever experienced here, certainly the worst flooding in
the village – if Mr G hadn’t gone out in the early hours and opened the
sluice gates to relieve the pressure, the village would have flooded. The
man who’s job it is to do this slept happily through the storm…
Amazingly we haven’t lost electricity, but like you we are well prepared
for its return.
- January 21, 2013 at 09:38
-
Yes Anna,it was surely the same one as the wind was around WNW so would
have hit your area first, then screamed down the European Atlantic
coast.
It certainly was the worst in living memory here. Seems the
flashing I mentioned was cables arcing . Good luck with the next one.
- January 20, 2013 at 20:35
-
I haven’t tried French tinned beans, however with cheap beans, I find a
knob of butter (or bacon fat) in the frying pan, tin of beans cooked until the
start to break apart, a dash of worcester sauce and Voila (smacks fingers to
lips whilst making a kissing sound) they’re better than “Heinz”.
- January 20, 2013 at 19:50
-
As I youngster here in West Cornwall I used to feel deprived as I had never
made a snowman. Now (long) retired (from the real world) I appreciate the
climate. So far this winter I have not seen a flake of snow and the water in
the birdbath resolutely remains in a liquid state.
It seems to me that
people do not move TO anywhere, but flee FROM somewhere or someone, which is
rather sad.
- January 20, 2013 at 18:28
-
I fled France after eight years last summer and now reside in Montreal
Canada where the folk speak French with a very peculiar accent and every
sentence has at least one English word in it. Most also speak English which is
a great relief to me as I never did really master French while domicile there.
Their mind set is also more Anglo than French and the Anglo Canadians and that
is what they are know as by French Canadians are more Anglo than the English.
The result of multiculturalism and too much social democracy I suspect now has
the Canadians being more English than the English. As for snow it started to
snow well before Christmas and has hardly stopped since since yesterday about
40cms has fallen, temperatures fall to -26. Has everything ground to a
standstill are flights delayed is traffic delayed are schools closed is
anything effected? No it is not the only different activity to be seen are
people using what appears to be large lawn mowers with stove pipes attached to
them blowing snow off their driveways. After France the feeling of being free
and away from that stifling, wealth sucking, authoritarian and closet racist
state is most refreshing and invigorating. I found adding Heinz ketchup to the
tin did work quite well but as the beans are larger than the English ones it
never was full satisfactory. However sometime before I left France
civilisation did catch up a bit and Intermarché and Carrefour between them did
start stocking a large range of UK goods. If you have them where you are it
may be worth a look into.
-
January 20, 2013 at 19:02
-
At 1 Euro 80 centimes for a can of Heinze Beans, I do what Anna does. On
the very rare occasion that the passion overtakes me. But I do buy Branston
Pickle and the odd Frey Bentos Pie.
- January 20, 2013 at
19:43
- January 20, 2013 at 18:08
-
Working on my motorcyle, a 1965 BSA, Living up to it’s nomenclature. In
French La Belle Salaporie Anglaise or in English Bastard Stopped Again…….Oh
and Anna, the snow has melted dahn by the river…….
-
January 20, 2013 at 17:07
-
Can someone please, please tell me what sort of Flour to buy in France to
make decent Dumplings. My Dumplings used to be famous, but I haven’t managed a
good one in twenty years. Suet is not a problem. Atora or fresh, I can handle.
I have tried chucking in a handful of baking soda, but I just get a big
mess.
- January 20, 2013 at 17:21
-
I use bread flour (strong plain) and add baking powder. But that only
worked when I could get Atora!
We had a huge problem with Yorkshire puddings for ages, very lime laden
water here, but have got over that now.
- January 20, 2013 at 17:40
-
What is “Strong Plain” in French, s’il tu plait?
Don’t even mention
Yorkshire Puddings. I thought that problem was the oven. I always finish
up with second hand cookers. I even gave up the jolly old Yorkshire Stock
Pot into which you chuck any old thing, because I couldn’t raise a
Yorkshire Pudding.
- January 20, 2013 at
18:23
- January 21, 2013 at 14:20
-
My foolproof recipe (ie it works consistently for me) for Yorkshire
Puddings involves the pan and oil/beef dripping being smoking hot in the
oven before one takes it out, fills with the batter mix and puts it back
in pronto. Don’t dare open the door until it’s ready. Serve with gravy
for starters, beef for dinner and jam for pud. Far better than souffles
(a poor imitation of the original
).
- January 21, 2013 at 16:34
-
That’s very similar to mine, except it’s always beef dripping, none
of that poncey oil stuff – and don’t forget that vital splash of
vinegar in the mix, leaving it to stand for an hour or two, then a
quick re-beat before use.
Great when filled with genuine Bradford Curry – fusion food or what
!
- January 20, 2013 at
16:27
-
I’m running around the house in denims and a T-shirt listening to Bon Jovi
and singing “Whooah, we’re half way there, livin’ on a prayer”…
Well, I did spend three years at university studying sound engineering. I
came out with a 2 1, 2 1, 2 1…
OK, I’ll get my coat…
- January 20, 2013 at 15:25
-
Sorry to hear about your Timesless Sunday Anna! Curious though: was the
paraplegic hint supposed to play off the father being a PARent? (as opposed to
a straight hint of “Person unable to use one’s legs”?)
A non-Times hint for you: Turn your freezer to its coldest setting now,
cover it with all the ratty old quilts from the attic, and then even open the
windows to the room it’s in if the power DOES go out. Things should keep
without worry for an extra day or so with those additions. For future
forecasts of similar potential disasters fill the extra space in the freezer
with jugs of water that will turn to ice (make sure you squeeze them a bit
first so they don’t split) and the jugs will help store the coldness.
Finally, I’m surprised the kidlings don’t get a day off for weather!
Usually climes unaccustomed to such extremities go bonkers when hit with
Mother Nature and move into high dudgeon civil defense end-of-the-world mode
at the first dusting of snow.
Stay warm, ‘n don’t slip on the ice!
MJM
-
January 20, 2013 at 15:14
-
Here in the Dominican Republic I did my traditional 45 minutes of lap
swimming this morning in an unheated pool.
- January 20, 2013 at 15:02
-
Friday was fun. Children one to three went to get catch their school buses
at 8am. I took my good lady to the train station, and dropped off number four
child to her school. In full knowledge of what was to come, I let the boss
know I’d be working from home.
Sure enough, a few flakes of snow later and we started to get text messages
from children and their schools – “..adverse weather.. closing early… collect
your monsters…” So at 12:00 off I went to one high school for the boys. Home
for half an hour, then out again to the other high school. Not to be outdone,
the youngest was ready for collection an hour later.
Needless to say that, despite the beautiful big snowflakes that had been
falling steadily throughout the day, all but the narrowest of back alleys and
sidestreets were completely devoid of the white stuff. I didn’t even bother to
break out the 4×4 with the chunky tyres, just jumped in my little Nissan and
didn’t think twice about it.
My work day was more full of holes than a Swiss cheese – finally got some
productive work done by about 10pm.
- January 20, 2013 at 14:26
-
Oh, the pampered extravagance of someone fagging for me….delivering hot
buttered toast and an ironed copy of the ST, Anna.
Here in Huddersfield,
one wakes to Mosque wails and fasting; maybe a wet copy of the Muslim News. It
seems like another era in another Country.
- January 20, 2013 at 14:29
-
Time you moved to Knaresborough.
- January 20, 2013 at 15:00
-
Ah, yes. A really nice spot – and just downwind of the largest invasion
of locusts.
- January 20, 2013 at 16:23
-
Fartown?
- January 20, 2013 at 16:44
-
Fartown no longer exists, Budvar. Farakhi, as it is now known, has been
a Christian no-go area for several years.
-
January 20, 2013 at 14:04
-
I’ve got a friend who brings me bundles of Telegraph Crosswords. But I
always was a bit of a pleb. And No, I don’t cheat. I mix them all up so I
can’t find the next one.
- January 20, 2013 at 13:38
-
Saturday’s Jumbo Crossword in The Times’ Saturday Review.
(but check
your mail
- January 20, 2013 at 13:35
-
Clue – “They hate foreigners from phone boxes.” (10 letters)
- January
20, 2013 at 13:44
-
Is it an anagram?
My favourite clues are: sgeg, (9,4) and HIJKLMNO, (5).
- January 20, 2013 at 15:10
-
Xenophobics.
- January 20, 2013 at 15:11
-
No, Xenophobes.
-
January 20, 2013 at 15:27
-
Don’t get ‘sgeg’ yet, but the list of letters is a moist classic.
- January 20, 2013 at 15:40
-
Scrambled eggs?
- January 20, 2013 at 15:47
-
Thanks for making me feel such a prat now ! I owe you one next time
you’re in the Snug.
- January 21, 2013 at 14:08
-
Scrambled eggs it is.;) Mudplugger certainly has the chemistry
needed to solve cryptic clues.
-
January 20, 2013 at 13:28
-
Currently 30.6 Celcius (87 Farenheit) at home in Sunny Penang. Rather glad
my next visit to Geneva is not due until March…
Plan for this evening (currently 9:30 PM) is a quick swim, then beers and
the movie “I was Monty’s double” starring Sir John Mills.
-
January 20, 2013 at 13:17
-
Nice essay. Reminds me of George Orwell’s essay on English food.
http://orwell.ru/library/articles/cooking/english/e_dec
It is funny how quickly things become traditional. I spent much of my youth
in Yorkshire and left the UK 33 years ago, but I don’t remember ever hearing
about Yorkshire teabags when I lived in England. Maybe that is because my
family always used loose PG Tips.
- January 20, 2013 at 14:06
-
It may have taken a while, but English cooking has certainly revived! The
variety and quality of farmhouse cheeses is bewildering – we have more
regional cheeses than the French, now, and most are delicious; pub food has
improved beyond recognition (some even have Michelin starred chefs!); farm
shops abound selling fresh vegetables, local meats, home-made pies and
treats of all kinds. Certainly, you can eat processed or tasteless rubbish
if you choose, but you no longer have to. Food is now one of the glories of
Britain, but we don’t celebrate it enough.
In my fridge at the moment, I have wild venison steaks (from the local
supermarket!), North Atlantic peeled prawns, Gloucester Old Spot sausages
and dry-cure bacon from the farm shop five miles down the road, and a pound
of diced steak that I’ll make into a slow-cooked casserole with onions,
carrots, herbs and a bottle of real ale for the liquid – might even add a
suet dumpling or two.
Oh – and there are several varieties of Yorkshire Tea. Yorkshire Gold is
my current favourite.
- January 20, 2013 at
14:10
-
I don’t suppose I could have your address by any chance? (Reply before
dinner time appreciated…)
-
January 20, 2013 at 14:27
-
I was listening to Radio 4 a year or two ago when they interviewed an
Indian lady who was returning to Delhi to open an English-themed
restaurant. Perhaps unsurprisingly, this greatly amused the interviewer
– until the Indian lady poined out some of the glories of British
cooking she’d be showcasing – the pies and puddings, pot-roasts,
casseroles, pasties and home-made soups…The first thought that came into
my head was, “Will you marry me?”
-
January 20, 2013 at 12:37
-
By the Lord Harry, what is it with some people here? All this frenetic
activity needing a day of rest and crosswords.
I am pleased to tell that Sunday is pretty well like any other day. I wake
at a gentleman’s hour, rarely before 10am. I take coffee. I am a ‘list’ sort
of fellow and spend all of ten minutes searching for all the chores I need to
do and analyse the probablities of the world coming to a shuddering halt if I
fail to do them. Anything with a probability approaching .5 gets done but as
that is as rare as my rising at 8 am, I generally apply a strong balm of
procrastinatol (5 mg) to the rest of the list and do nothing at all all the
rest of the day.
I then ‘meander’. I may go to the beach, or even go and buy some fruit. I
will eat something, from time to time, read a little (blogs such as this are a
joy, frankly), fly a 747 with 400 passengers crammed into economy seats from,
say, Istanbul to Athens. (Virtual, you understand). I may ride my bike or go
and have lunch with some friends I have persuaded from their desks. Some
interesting You Tube effort might get my attention and quite often the Skypey
thingo will beep with a face appearing from the other end of the world. I can
chat for an hour before being overtaken by a need for variety. Before too long
it is 2 am and time for bed.
I often wonder whether a valet might come in useful.
-
January 20, 2013 at 12:36
-
I am in bed with Laptop and Hot Water Bottle, no cracks, please. And very
cosy it is too.
Took the dog out at 8 am, it’s getting light earlier, but
only because anything is better than mopping up rivers of pee pee. He doesn’t
like getting his feet wet unless he is forced to. Or he’s got Dog Dementia,
not sure which. Could be both.
PS. I bought in a load of Rock Salt and
Salpetre back along, in case the freezer ever packs in. I’ve never tried
Salting a frozen Horse/Beef Burger, but Salted Chicken is okay.
-
January 20, 2013 at 12:16
-
How poignant!
A proper Sunday should start with me getting up early, and
then opening the back door to let in Cat (he has his own palatial cat house
outside for the evening, insulated and filled with straw, so worry not about
the cold – and he likes to be free to meet his ladies of the night!). Cat must
then be fed – twice if he has been busy shagging!
With my chores as a
“domestique” for Cat over, I am free to make myself a cup of coffee in the
little perculator, and put some sausages on the halogen grill.
I can then
snuggle in my small and untidy study and turn on the some gentle music on
Spotify. I will of course peek at recent goings on here at Chez Raccoon.
At
about 8.30 am comes the reassuring sound of shoving and then a thud as The
Sunday Times comes through the letter box. Another coffee on the go, and time
to review the week’s events. By 9.00 pm I will be convinced that Britain,
Europe and the World are going to Hell in a handcart. As if I did not know
that already…
And time for another coffee.
Sunday morning is a sacred
place and time. It is perhaps the defining quality of Western civilization. We
should preserve it, and enhance it.
Sadly, the prurient headlines of
“Bonking” and “Romps” that were the hall mark of the News of the Screws seem
less frequent these days. What fun they were, to to accompany my second
breakfast of a bacon sandwich! How shocked and appalled would I be at these
monstrous indiscretions! How could anyone do, and then recount these shameless
antics!
And thence to Church, for Sunday prayers….
-
January 20, 2013 at 13:58
-
Gildas now has an additional task, approx 8:31am, every Sunday.
Put crossword page of Sunday Times onto scanner-bed.
Scan.
Attached
image to e-mail.
Send to Anna.
Dilemma solved by 8:35am, international gratitude guaranteed (except for
Mr Murdoch of course, but who cares about him ?).
-
January 21, 2013 at 09:25
-
Good idea Mudplugger! I will nee to learn how to use a scanner!
- January 21, 2013 at
09:32
-
An alternative, if you have a good hi rez camera, is to take a
picture of the puzzle and send it!
MJM,
the ever inventive…
- January 20, 2013 at 12:14
-
Having braved a raging wind to walk down to the local ‘Centro’ with my two
aging dogs – blazing sun mind you – to buy ‘El País’ for its crossword and
editorials and wonder how much longer it will take for the populace to
genuinely lose it and maybe bloodshed will be the only way for change to come
about, I am preparing a roast chicken and will then relax on the sofa,
probably watch “Lincoln” take the dogs out again and then mull over what I
need to do this week. A nice, lazy Sunday!
- January 20, 2013 at 11:48
-
Here in Smalltown we are trying to avoid the 9:30 stampede of people past
our door to the CofE Cathedral followed by the 10:30 stampede by the
Catholics. Nothing stops them – not least a bit of snow! Clearly the hot air
generated in these places serves to keep them toasty warm.
Naturally, only the upper crust of Smalltown society is permitted the
Sunday Times crossword. The majority of us are begrudgingly permitted the
Telegraph which is much more suited to our moderate intelligences. Of course,
we have do many carrot crunchers who recently have been much cheered by the
emergence of the Sun on Sunday and sit with their mug of tea whilst
comtemplating the wonders of page three. Scanning as far as page five of the
NOTW was clearly beyond them.
Here today the snow lays not deep and even but more mottled and drifted.
Something is currently beginning to flutter out of the sky but whether that is
a flurry of snow or merely a smattering of distain from the Town Society is
debatable.
Enjoy your tea and toast. Here a freshly brewed Nespresso and a chocolate
Hob Nob is a more acceptable alternative. Tea – especially Yorkshire Tea – is
just so common!
- January 20, 2013 at 11:53
-
Love your new blog by the way!
- January 20, 2013 at
12:27
-
You are most kind.
- January 20, 2013 at
12:58
-
Small Town Woman has just pointed out to me that the Catholic
stampede precedes the Anglicans so I must stand corrected! I am thankful
that I subcribe to neither although when I voiced this to a local, she
replied “Oh God! You’re not a bloody Jew are you?!” Shock horror.
Shurely not!
I hasten to add at this juncture that I am not – but I have nothing
against them.
It also occurred to me that my eloquent prose would make a good post,
so I thought ‘Why not?’ and, in the words of Jean Luc Picard, ‘Made it
so!”
Thank you for the inspiration.
-
January 20, 2013 at 16:18
-
WRT “Jews”, so much fun can be had with this, judicious use of
Yiddish phrases like “Oi vey”, “Schlemiel” and calling your lass
“Miriam” goes down really well. Props can be useful too, a yamulka, a
copy of the Jerusalem times and a very loud ring tone of “Ava negila”
and with practice you can create a persona that’s a cross between
Fagin and the Mike Reid character in “Snatch”.
I kept this going for about 9mths, (with the same copy of JT I
might add) you can even bring friends into it by introducing them as
“Closet Jews” and to not tell anyone. I even have a mate that’s still
refered to as “Kosher Ken” as It really suits him.
Just wait until you get on to the kosher pork pies and black
pudding…
- January 20, 2013 at 11:40
-
Snowing here in Essex and settling. Freezing too. Just had a long catch up
phone chat with my cousin 230 miles away oop north. Calls said to be free on
Sundays. Have a troop of blackbirds in the garden. scoffing apples/bread/
sunflower seeds. One determined Fieldfare thrush, who gets chased all over the
place. Phone call from a neighbour…..he’s off to the shops……do I want anything
? Bread please Steve. TV later in evening. Stuff I like on tonight. Then to
bed and read Kindle…..Millenium Trilogy or Les Dawson my, favourite funny man,
+ a glass of dry sherry, the old biddies nightcap.
- January 20,
2013 at 11:16
-
I’ll be tucking in to a roast chicken, watching DVDs and trying not to
think about Monday morning…
- January 20, 2013 at 11:09
-
What will I be doing? Erm…reading a blog….
- January 20, 2013 at 11:17
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I suppose trying to guess which direction Ms Raccoon’s eclectic brain
will wander off into today is pretty much the same as a cryptic
crossword….
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January 20, 2013 at 12:18
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Like a “Jumping Jack firework”, light the blue touch-paper &
retire immediately.
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January 20, 2013 at 14:15
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That’s why we frequent the Raccoon Arms snug! The landlady and bar
staff often surprise and delight us, and the conversation with the patrons
is agreeable, educative and stimulating. Though I don’t suppose my
creeping will earn a free drink….
- January 20, 2013 at
14:32
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No but a dumpling might work wonders…
- January 20, 2013 at
16:33
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Mustard dumplings? Yum. Although you can get suet over here in BC,
the flour is different.
- January 20, 2013 at 16:40
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We can get any kind of flour here, sold in 15 different varieties
– but suet only on special order from the butcher and its fresh –
haven’t quite mastered the technique yet, knew where I was with
Atora….
Never mind, I made caramel profiteroles – anyone for
dinner?
- January 20, 2013 at
19:41
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I mis-read that as camel profiteroles.
- January 20, 2013 at 19:44
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Having just consumed them – you might be right, not my finest
effort.
- January 20, 2013 at
19:48
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Have you tried the jam jar trick for profiteroles? Equal
volumes of flour, eggs and camels. Works ever time!
- January 20, 2013 at 20:02
- January 21, 2013 at 21:41
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It is easier for a Camel to enter the top of a Jam Jar
than profit or roles reversed, a Rich Tea biscuit enter the
kingdom of confectionary.
- January 21, 2013 at 16:37
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You think you’re got problems, I read it as ‘cameltoe
profiteroles’ – a genuinely unusual concept.
- January 20, 2013 at
15:16
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In the absence of the Sunday Times, Ms Raccoon has been playing
moonlight mahjong on the computer. When some sadist introduced me to the
game (I’m looking at you Ms Smudd!!!)
I struggled up to level 14 one
day and idly wondered how many levels there were – googling introduced
me to some utter prat complaining that he kept getting ‘stuck on level
54′…he was obviously a prat and a lying prat at that, I decided.
6″
of snow….and I’ve done it, level 54, I can retire now, 54, are you
listening Ms Smudd? I can get back to writing and not wasting my life on
Mahjong.
I’m just as good as that anonymous prat…
Kindly do not
respond to this comment by telling me you’re stuck on level 96!
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January 20, 2013 at 15:41
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Er…..what’s ‘mahjong’?
- January 20, 2013 at
15:50
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@ Engineer. That’s what my IT Man said. Really, some people. It’s
a Chinese Board Game by which many Chinese people have managed to
beggar themselves for centuries. You can hear The Tiles clacking in
dark alleys throughout the Chinese speaking world. But not if you
play it on The Internet.
- January 20, 2013 at 23:30
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Ah – thank you! Backgammon with noodles, then.
- January 20, 2013 at 23:31
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That was a reply to Elena ‘Andcart. It’s far too late to be
pressing the right buttons….
- January 20, 2013 at
15:42
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Funny you should say that. I have just discovered that I’ve got
Moonlight Marjong on my super duper, new computer. Did I really want
to know this? And are you responsible?
It is now up and running,
but on Ethernet as my Livebox doesn’t seem to want to share Airport.
Not that this matters as I amn’t thinking of carting it anywhere very
far as the screen is bigger than my Telly. Just working out ways to
stick it on the end of my bed when I want to watch Filums
- January 20, 2013 at 19:35
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Dare I poke my head above the parapet, even though you HAVE reached
Level 54?????
While you mention that I introduced you to the game of Mahjong, you
fail to mention that you managed all by yourself to find and become
addicted to this fiendish version with its 54 3-D levels! You also
fail to mention that you casually showed it to me when I came over to
visit and invited me to tackle it, before swanning off lamenting the
fact that you were then ‘stuck’ on Level 28 or something. In
particular, you have so far failed to mention your triumphant crowing
when I repeatedly got stuck on Level 14!
Anyhoo, hearty congratulations, Ms Raccoon!
- January 20, 2013 at 19:42
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January 20, 2013 at 11:04
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Culture section getting too small for you? It is reflecting reality.
Just wait ’til the Crossword starts giving suras as clues.
- January 20, 2013 at 11:27
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January 20, 2013 at 20:11
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Well … um … take your pick …
a) yes it did
b) no it didn’t
c) it will when I try it
Presently Ms Smudd is trying to trim her midriff, having recently been
described as “not overweight – not for Britain, anyway” so may not get round
to tackling the jam jar yorkshires until she’s shifted a good 16lb!
{ 80 comments }