Monthly Archives: May 2020

Bears and Butterflies

I have just turned, or am about to become, 62. I can’t tell you exactly, because according to those adverts which are designed to worry us about cyber crime, information like that can help professional criminals steal my identity.

I’m not sure what sort of self-respecting professional fraudster wakes up in the morning with the desire to become a fat elderly man with creaky joints and a job as a shop assistant but you can’t be too careful these days. I would hate to get a letter from the bank telling me that I owed them money because someone has booked a holiday in the Maldives using a fraudulently obtained credit card in my name.

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A Bear in an Apple Tree

They always seem to want a holiday. Whenever Julia has trouble with her card (the details of which, as far as we can tell, were hijacked from a supposedly secure retail site) the culprits always try to book themselves two weeks abroad. And the bank always declines the transaction because it’s so far away from our normal spending pattern. She has the minor inconvenience of being without a card for a few days after they cancel it, but that’s not a problem compared to the alternative.

I’ve done a few new pictures of the bear after the last lot didn’t want to show on the relevant post, photographed some blossom and watched a blue butterfly flit around the garden. It didn’t stay still long enough for a photograph. I assume it was a Holly Blue because it flew round the holly tree, and because they always seem to be Holly Blues in gardens.

Anyway, can’t stay long today because I’ve just had a badly-spelt email from the widow of an African politician. It seems that when he left office he inadvertently retained a bank account containing $15,000,000. She’s a generous lady and would like me to have half of it in return for allowing her to put the money in my account for a while. I’m not quite clear why this is necessary but I never was much good at high finance.

Sounds almost too good to be true…

 

 

Substitution

I had a food delivery from ASDA today. It was a lot better than the last internet order from ASDA, and the driver was a source of much information. He told us, for instance, that during the height of the panic-buying people were buying so much food that on one delivery run he was only able to fit three deliveries on the van. No wonder they ran out of both food and capacity.

For a while I started to feel sympathy for ASDA. Then I began to unpack the order and look at the substitutions.

I had ordered two packs of bake at home baguettes. I did this because I want to finish off the baking at home and be able to have fresh bread in a week’s time. It’s nine days until the next delivery.

I didn’t get that. They substituted ready-cut white bread rolls, the sort we call burger buns in the UK. They are never good quality bread. And, being cut, they are already well on the way to being stale by the time you get them. Poor quality, stale, soft, cotton wool and unappetising. We have limited freezer space and though we have frozen one pack we will have to eat the other as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, eating them will delay the eating of the sliced loaf we also ordered, and that will start to go stale, or even mouldy, before we finish it.

There is nothing like a nice, crusty, warm baguette. And, as we say in the UK, the substitute buns are nothing like a nice, crusty, warm baguette.

Who thinks a pack of burger buns are an acceptable substitute for a nice crusty baguette?

If they were out of vinegar would they send me battery acid as a substitute. They are, after all, both acids, but they have very different effects when sprinkled on chips.

I also ordered a couple of Sicilian Lemon tarts as a treat for dessert one night. They sent profiteroles. I like profiteroles, and if I wanted them I’m quite capable of ordering them. But I wanted the sharpness of Sicilian Lemon tarts, even though I doubt that the lemons have ever seen Sicily. We had the profiteroles tonight – they were short of chocolate and cream. I don’t know about you, but I don’t buy them because of the choux pastry, I want chocolate and cream. Or, to be accurate, I want Sicilian Lemon Tart.

Better than the bread substitution but not ideal.

Then there was the coriander. I wanted fresh coriander leaves for some recipes I’m going to try. So I ordered fresh coriander leaves with soil so that they would sit in a pot and last a week or two. I thought I was getting a pot too, but they have stopped doing that so they save plastic.

What did they send?

Did they send cut coriander, which would give you the flavour without the longevity? No.

Did they send Ground Coriander or Coriander seeds from the spice section? No.

They sent me flat leaf parsley. As I had already ordered some, I now have two lots of flat leaf parsley.

So, no coriander, and a double helping of parsley. If I’d wanted two, I would have ordered two.

I really should stop believing them when they say they have things in stock, and I should start saying that I don’t want substitutions. Then, of course, I would end up with no bread and no pudding.

To be fair, I should say that they did substitute a couple of things which were more expensive than the items I’d ordered, and didn’t charge me extra. But I’m not feeling very fair after the bread substitution, or last week.

 

 

Gratitude

I’ve just been looking at how to write a Gratitude Journal.  There are mixed views on the best way to do this but one way which is, according to a research study, very effective, is to write a list of three things just once a week. It seems that less is more in this area. Al the information is on the link. Having established that minimal effort produced good results, I stopped reading.

So, here we are. Three things for me to feel gratitude for.

One, fruit crumble. We had apple and dried apricot crumble last night. It was a decision aided by the presence of just one apple and the remains of a bag of dried apricots. The rhubarb is currently looking a bit sparse and needs time to revive. We have, in truth, picked too much. We have been neglecting it, so a good measure of manure will be needed this autumn.

On the crumble, we had custard. We have been having either cream or milk or nothing with it, depending on the supply situation. They are all pleasant ways to eat crumble but custard is the best.

The fact that I have plenty of food, and Julia to cook it for me, are the icing on the cake. This is perhaps not the best figure of speech to employ at this point, but it puts things across nicely, even if it is culinarily confusing. The spellchecker doesn’t like ‘culinarily’, but it is a proper word, so hard cheese.

Two, my health. It might not be the first thing you expect me to say. I’m obese, hypertensive and arthritic with a variety of other faults that keep me involved with doctors and phlebotomists, but in general I’m OK and while I may not make 91 like my Dad, I’m not feeling too bad at the moment. In fact, I’m feeling downright perky at the moment. It could, of course, be a lot better.

I should. I suppose, be ashamed of myself for getting into this state. However, let it never be said that I have gone to my grave with a song still in me. When I am old and huddled in front of Countdown, I will have many a disreptuble memory to bring an enigmatic smile to my lips.

Three – WordPress. What would be the point of writing all this if nobody read it? Or if there was nobody to discuss it with? Plus, I can be nosey, and live several lives apart from my own. Within moments of switching on the computer I can be riding my cycle in the Scottish borders, walking in the New Forest or sitting my Maine woodland garden. Or watching the Oregon sunset with my cats, making demented videos with an iconic yellow bear or gardening in Leeds.

There is just so much to do and so many people to see. And that’s before I start on the other sites. My grasp of American military history, with associated cartoons, and the archaeology of death is now much better than it used to be, as is my gardening and cookery knowledge.

Without the writers of WordPress my lockdown would be a dreadfully dull and lonely place.

That, I think, will do. It seems you can wear your gratitude out if you use it too much, and I don’t want to risk it.

 

 

 

The Bear Pictures, and Some Diversions

 

A Bear in a Tree

A Bear in a Tree

Julia’s Knitted Teddy Bear – a lockdown special

I can’t post a bear picture as a header because I’m incompetent. Julia sent me these two pictures but I can’t get them to load into the media file so I just dropped them into the text. It’s a fascinating study in how a bit of knitting, a few stitches and a bit of imagination ends up as a teddy bear with a distinct personality of its own.

She has posted these pictures on the Mencap Facebook page, so there’s a chance we might be seeing a few more of them about as lockdown progresses.

Sooty is one of the best known bears, and he has been helping charliecountryboy retain his sanity during the lockdown. I use the term ‘sanity’ in a fairly loose sense, as you will have realised if you’ve read his blog before.

One of my favourites is Pooh, the bear of very little brain, and an unfortunate name. We have a copy of The Pooh Cook Book upstairs. Julia bought it. I’ve never actually read it, as I suspect it isn’t really a cookery book, just going through the motions.

The Pooh Cook Book By Katie Stewart

I’m fairly sure that the humour I see in the title was unintentional, unlike the next book, which has a confusingly similar title.

It is, however, quite different, being a book of Thai cooking compiled by a woman nick-named Poo. It apparently means ‘crab’ in Thai. She’s really called Saiyuud Diwong, but that wouldn’t sell as many books. Let’s face it, Cooking with Saiyud Diwong wouldn’t actually rate a mention here.

“For I am a bear of very little brain, and long words bother me.” A. A. Milne

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Bear in a tree – again!

Historical Fiction, or just Old-Fashioned?

It’s very hard to find a picture of a scruffy old bloke reading a book when you look through the free photo library. This is the closest I could get. Most book readers, according to the free photo library, are well-groomed young women. I will leave you to draw your own conclusions.

In the last week I have been reading Lord Peter Wimsey novels bought via Amazon and downloaded instantly to my tablet. At 99p each they are reasonable value and available instantly. I’m dubious about paying much more than that for an eBook because it doesn’t reallt feel like you are getting much for your money.

I’ll pay more on the rare occasion I buy a new book or when I buy a reference book, but when I’m buying a book that’s been in print since the 1920s, particularly one that’s now out of copyright, I have a very parsimonious attitude. Any author reading this is probably shuddering at the idea of someone like me representing the future of book-buying. Sorry about that, if you are one of them.

Considering that I’m purchasing the license to read the ‘content’ and that terms and conditions can be altered or terminated at any time without notice I feel comfortable with 99p, but not at £4.99 and £5.99. I can buy a proper book in clean condition for that, and still have something to pass on to a neighbour or a charity shop.

Several of the editions I bought have faulty formatting, but that’s the nature of cheap eBooks. You have to put up with it.

Several of the books feature what we would now consider racism. Whenever you read books from between the wars they always seem to. I’m not qualified to discuss racism, and I’m not sure if Sayers was racist or not. However, the references to Jews and blacks (not necessarily using those words) no doubt mirror the way people talked in those days. It doesn’t necessarily means she was racist, just accurate, but it doesn’t make for comfortable reading. It’s very easy to condemn writers from the 20s and 30s for being racist, and modern commentators often do, so I’ll resist the temptation.

My other concern is that the books contain plot devices I’m not entirely happy with. There is a missing heir (which turns out to be a red herring), an undetectable poison (which turns out not to be a poison) and a case of someone claiming to be his own cousin. It’s getting close to implausible. So is the idea of a middle-aged, possibly elderly, man scaling a building to dispose of a dead body. There are, in case you didn’t know, ‘rules’ about these things. And more here.

There are good bits in the books too, even though, as I get older Wimsey and Bunter are becoming closer and closer to Wooster and Jeeves.

I’ll have to do some proper reviews soon. For now, let’s say that my tastes are more inclined to historical crime fiction than they are to classics of the Golden Age.

A Woman Full of Surprises

Sheringham

Even after knowing each other for 40 years Julia still has the capacity to surprise me.

She knitted a teddy bear yesterday. This was a surprise, as she has not knitted for years. Crochet embroidery and felting, yes, but no knitting. OK, it’s not a great surprise , but I#m building up to the big one.

Today she went out for some fresh air and came back with fish and chips. This was a surprise as I didn’t know the chip shop had reopened. Nor did I realise we were going to have something nice for tea, when I’d been expecting another meal of vegetables. It’s not the freedom I’m missing during lockdown, but the variety of food we used to eat. You have to queue outside and order from the open door.

Hake and Chips in Cromer

It’s our first take-away since the disastrous KFC. That’s nearly six weeks ago. In normal times I would probably have used KFC and Just Eat several times, so I’m happy to report they have lost some business over the mess. ASDA will be losing some too. In these days, when customer service means nothing, and people never get back to you about complaints, this seems to be the best you can do to.

When you used to have to write in with complaints they used to take things more seriously. Now that they do it all by email it’s easier but also easier to write an anodyne and meaningless reply.

I think I may write another complaint and see if anything happens.

Meanwhile, here are some pictures of chips from happier times.

Sutton-on-Sea