Tag Archives: breakfast

Breakfast, Bench and Bug Boxes

The day started badly, as I had passed a disturbed night and felt tired, stiff and fragile. As the first light of a non-too-rosy dawn crept through the curtains, I groaned and turned over.

This was how I slept in, set off late and was unable to accomplish my first task of the day. We had barely laid out the parts for a new garden bench when the Monday group arrived, two hours earlier than we were expecting. As I’m not allowed to be a volunteer (due to the conflict of interest thing) we had to leave.

As a consolation prize Julia bought me breakfast at Harvester, which was excellent. Fruit, yoghurt, Full English, toast, marmalade, a quick crumpet (because it was there) and refillable tea. All for 75% of the cost of two Olympic breakfasts at Little Chef. I passed on cereal.

After that we returned home to find the internet was down. BT claim we hadn’t paid the bill. They seem to do this about once a year – cutting us off for non-payment without actually sending us a bill or a reminder.

By the time it came back on we were already back at the gardens tacking a pallet bench together ready for tomorrow.

Then it was shopping, chip shop and try to get a blog post done before midnight…

Done, with 12 minutes to go. I will add photos later.

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Bug boxes made from frames out of the school skip and filled with the hollow stems of scabious

Drizzling, Mizzling and Grizzling

I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that Eskimoes have 50 words for snow. There’s quite a lot of debate on this subject but you have to start somewhere. The FT did a list of 5 of the best English words for rain. The Scots seem to have a lot of words for it too. They don’t seem to use siling down or mizzling. They appear on a list of Lincolnshire words, though we use them in Nottingham too.

Yesterday, it drizzled. That’s just rain that really can’t be bothered.It’s definitely rain, but lacks enthusiasm, and comes without mist, wind, cold or misery.

We went to Spalding yesterday, more because we had a day off than because we wanted to drive through the Fens in the rain. Destination was Springfields designer outlet. The bookshop has closed. Along with other closures it now only has one shop, a craft shop, that we want. I say “we”…

I took pictures of a duck marshalling three ducklings through the centre. Unfortunately I hadn’t, at that time, discovered the zoom on the telephone’s camera. I then took pictures of ducks doing other duck things. Once I’ve set the phone up to do email I will put the results on the blog. Don’t expect too much.

Today, it mizzled .That, according to my personal grading system, is rain that lacks conviction and comes with a side order of mist. It’s similar to the “soft day” of the Irish, but lacks the grim edge of the Scottish “dreich” day.

Today I dropped Julia off at work then went to ASDA to eat the worst breakfast I’ve ever had. This wasn’t actually the plan, but it was what happened. Not only did I endure leathery bacon, dry sausages and unpleasant beans, but I didn’t really enjoy the hash browns or the eggs. The tinned tomatoes were adequate, but they are hard to mess up. Only the mushrooms were good.

A group of three builders was eating breakfast too. I don’t think they were impressed either as one of them shouted across to the server as he chipped away at his food.

“Oi, love, have you been keeping this warm from last week?”

She didn’t answer. This wasn’t unexpected as charm and humour had been noticeably absent from the serving process.

From there it was but a short trip to Newark. Thursday is flea market day and time to catch up on the news. Unfortunately I can’t repeat any of the gossip as the trade talk is dull, as is the grizzling about the good old days, and the interesting stuff is almost certainly slanderous.

I took some pictures from the car park, using the camer’s settings to brighten them.  I would have taken more, but I’d rather wait for a nice sunny day. It is, as you can see, quite an interesting town.

 

The District Nurse

I got up around 8.00 today, which is late but not unforgivably so for an idle town dweller with nothing much to do. It gave me plenty of time to wrestle with plumbing, socks and trousers and do a spot of gardening before breakfast.

It was sort of gardening anyway, going over the joints of the paving stones with a flame gun. It’s far better than weedkiller and easier than hand weeding. The hedge looks like it needs a tidy, which reminded me I was planning some drastic pruning. If I get it cut back in the next two days I can get all the waste in the garden bin ready for the first collection of the year on Friday. Privet really isn’t good for compost.

This time next year I’m hoping to have a new permaculture based front garden. I was hoping to start this year but I haven’t felt up to doing much so far.

Granary toast for breakfast and some uplifting reading on WordPress, including this, this and this. I usually drop in here and here too, but I’m working slowly today. Apologies to those not mentioned, I’m just finding it harder to get round these days.

It was time for a walk then, as I’m trying to get more air and exercise. With a bad leg (not sure what is causing it, but sitting down all day isn’t helping) I’m struggling to do more than a few hundred yards, but that was just right to get back in time for the district nurse.

She provided me with a few bags and the phone number to get more plus help and advice. She also took blood pressure, heart rate and temperature readings with equipment that looked decidedly old-fashioned compared to the kit in hospital. All is as it should be. Finally she accepted that I was able to monitor my own bottom for signs of pressure sores, which was good. I’m a man, not a baboon, and such display is, frankly, neither necessary nor welcome.

By then it was time for lunch, shopping and a drive home.

I’m feeling tired now. Well, I’m convalescing so it’s allowed.

A good time for quiz shows and blogging, I feel.

Old Men Doing Laundry, and other Sunday stories

There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and grows old:

Henry IV Part 1

We had quite a collection of elderly gents at the Sunday Morning Laundry Club. Vikram, Flat Cap, The Farmer and the Fat Man were all there. I know they call me that because they always call the other fat man”The Other Fat Man”. I call him The Goth, though he isn’t really a Goth. He is quite tubby though. The Scrap Man and Tablecloths were absent, but it was a bit late for them. They normally come in first thing, to ensure they get a drier.

That was one of the things we discussed, people who use the driers without using the washers, thus clogging up the system. We also discussed Vikram’s health and that of his wife (she’s in hospital), the rising price of food, the iniquity of supermarkets, Buddhism, funerals, recent price rises on the driers and wives. Vikram is retired whilst The Farmer and I both have wives who work on Sunday. We’re not sure about Flat Cap. He’s clearly been trained (he brings his own hangers to put his dry shirts on) but he doesn’t wash any female clothes and never reveals details of any former marital status. The general view is that he has been married but, through carelessness or death, has lost his wife.

After that it was time for a bacon cob and a read of yesterday’s paper at the cafe down the road. Fluffy white cobs and nice thick bacon with a garnish of black pudding. Just add pepper and brown sauce for an excellent breakfast.

After a few minutes in the car I decided to give the Waxwings nother go. Result – no Waxwings but plenty of Redwings. There are still a few berries about, so there is still a chance of seeing some.

I thought I’d have a look in the park on my way to the shops, even if this did involve me in shopping at Sainsbury’s. They are only 200 yards from the park so it seemed silly to go to TESCOs after the park.

I saw some ducks, gathered more material for a polemic on the way people abuse open space/nature and took some poor photographs.

After that I shopped, cooked and picked Julia up from work. You can tell the days are getting longer because it’s light when she comes out now, where it was dark a month ago.

From the fact that I’m still writing Sunday’s post on Monday you can probably deduce that the rest of the day was taken up with my normal regime of chatting, snoozing, TV and reading.

We said we were going to have an easy January and that is one resolution I’m managing to keep.

 

 

Ice cream for breakfast

Ice cream must contain all the calcium and vitamins of milk, and with the addition of honey and walnuts it has to be positively healthy. It It also tastes good.

I can’t think why you don’t see it recommended as breakfast more often.

It’s difficult to write a follow-up to that; I’m just sitting here thinking of a brave new world where we have ice cream for breakfast.

At the risk of treating this like Twitter, I think I’ll leave it there, as I really can’t think of anything more to say.

 

Not quite a Grand Tour

Sunday was a bit of a rush because there we a number of things to fit in, including shopping. Due to a late start and roadworks we didn’t quite manage all we intended.

The intention had been to breakfast before nine and get off early. In the end we didn’t have breakfast until after ten, but this was supposed to be a holiday it didn’t matter. If you’re going to rush breakfast you may as well stay at home.

We selected the “All you can eat Continental Breakfast” for £2.99 and turned down the offer of drinks at near enough the same price. After two substantial breakfasts in previous days, and eating out in the evenings with family , we wanted something lighter. Cheap is also good at times.

The man sitting on the next table had the unlimited cooked breakfast – sausage, bacon, mushroom, hash browns, beans, chips, black pudding, tomato and eggs – and then poured tomato ketchup all over it. It was piled so high it looked like you might need oxygen to get to the top, and with all that cholesterol it’s likely that oxygen administered via a mask will figure somewhere in his future.

Note on etiquette: The author of this blog does not condone the use of tomato ketchup before midday, and even then only on chips. It should not be used on breakfasts, and never on bacon, whatever the time. 

So, for £2.99 I had shredded wheat, banana, toast, muffins, butter and marmalade. There were other cereals, other fresh fruit, tinned fruit, things I didn’t recognise (maybe granola?), yoghurt, crumpets, margarine and jam available.

The problem with the system is that you have to do a lot of self-service, including doing your own toast by feeding it through a toaster. You had to do it twice, once to warm it and once to actually brown it. As you can imagine, that could cause some hold-ups, particularity when someone is there doing all the toast for a table of six.

Once that was finished, we got on with the trip. I wanted a picture of Nelson’s column in Lowestoft. It was originally built at a time when this part of the coast was undeveloped, but over the years it has been surrounded by an incongruous collection of commercial buildings. It’s an interesting thing – but not as interesting as the story of its first keeper – which is detailed here.

Coming back from that we managed to get a picture of the old Victorian gasometer.

A detour to Gorleston produced the picture of the onshore lighthouse and the notice that looks like what you would expect if Banksy did a dog fouling notice.

After that we set off for Dunwich – stopping for toilets in Southwold on the way (Yes, I’m getting older!). We didn’t have time to go round Southwold as we had plans for Dunwich, followed by a visit to the St George’s Distillery. The pictures show beach huts and the pier at Southwold and the beach at Dunwich – with Southwold in the north and the Sizewell nuclear power stations to the south.

In the end we got to Dunwich, but had to leave before the museum opened (2-4 pm if you are interested) to get to the distillery. We ended up stuck in roadworks on the way, so by the time we had shopped our day was ended.

That’s the problem with trying to rush round – you miss out on doing things in order to do something else and then find you can’t do that either. Next time we go away we’ll have to make sure that we plan better.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Songs and sausages

National Breakfast week is drawing to a close and I have been doing my bit.

We’ve treated ourselves to a couple of days off from the farm because things are getting a bit intense and because we could do with some time to recharge our batteries – the two weeks off at Christmas was mostly spent cooking, cleaning and catching up on sleep so it wan’t really quality time. The lesson there is to plan your time off rather than sleep through it.

Yesterday was built round breakfast at Frankie and Bennys, followed by seeking out glass paints for Julia’s plastic flower project and then it was off to work for her, at the job that actually buys the groceries. I dropped her off, cooked and eventually  picked her up. At that point I served the food and found it hadn’t cooked properly, so it was Chewy Beef and Crunchy Carrot casserole for tea. You will search in vain for a recipe of that name.

I should probably point out here that F&B have not paid me or offered me any inducement to say I enjoyed the breakfast and the ambience, and that the quality and service were good and the cost reasonable.

However, if anyone from F&B is reading this, and would like to offer me any inducements for positive reviews in this blog I would be happy to accept.

Today was built around breakfast at Little Chef, followed by a visit to my Dad to drop of cards and presents for his 87th birthday on Sunday.

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Olympic Breakfast

I like the Olympic Breakfast and it was well-cooked. It was at least equal to F&B, possibly even a little better. Ambience, service, cleanliness, value – F&B wins.  I don’t want to be one of those people who takes a swipe from the safety of the internet, so I won’t name the site or go into more details about the faults.

Despite this, I’ve been going to Little Chef for so long that they feel like they are part of the family and as such I will be prepared to accept inducements for positive reviews.

Anyway, there you have it – my social diary, a food review and my contribution to National Breakfast week. I’m actually quite pleased with myself, as I usually eat the food before I remember that I’m supposed to be photographing it. That’s why I never actually got on with the food blog I planned.

It was entertainment time at the home when we arrived, with a local entertainer singing to a selection of Jim Reeves, Guy Mitchell, Tommy Steel, Perry Como and various other stars of the 50s. I have to say the music wasn’t to my taste – reminding me too much of my father’s taste, but the audience loved him and I mentally filed a few tricks of the trade for working a crowd when I next have to visit a care home to do a presentation (which is actually coming up quite soon). Top man.

 

Back to school

Last night, when we double-checked everything ready for the school breakfast presentation this morning, we found we’d miscalculated. It wasn’t 300 children, it was 600. As a result we had to go through all the breakfast samples we had and divide them in half. We were still able to feed a multitude without recourse to loaves and fishes, and our outputs are going to look immense this year.

We left 600 happy children behind us, most of whom (according to their answers) have either cereal or waffles for breakfast. It’s a lot  better than a class we asked a couple of years ago who all seemed to have Nutella on toast.

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It could have been worse, I once turned up with a lesson designed for 11-year-olds and gave it to a class of 7-year-olds. According to the teachers, it makes a difference. In my own defence, I didn’t realise they were that young, I just thought they were smaller than usual. Or possibly far away.

Short post today – I’m feeling lazy. We’re on the farm now but after the school stuff, lunch, admin and blog it’s time to weight the polytunnel down again (we have the end of Storm Jonas passing by at the moment) and go home while it’s still light.

I’m using a stock photo because we forgot to organise photographic permission for the school this morning – oh for the simple days when all you needed was a camera.

 

 

 

It’s Breakfast week

I suppose every week is breakfast week for some of us. But 32% of children go to school without breakfast even in a developed country like the UK.

In Wales they have a scheme intended to provide access to school breakfasts for all children. Provision for the rest of the nation relies on individual councils.

It’s tempting to bring some missionary zeal to the idea of breakfast for all children, particularly after seeing projects like Mary’s Meals but it’s expensive and I’m not 100% sure that we should be doing it. Having a family is like having a dog, don’t have one unless you can look after it.

So, eat breakfast because it’s good for you. And make sure you make your kids eat breakfast (though I believe bloggers will already be doing this).

If you aren’t already giving your kids breakfast all you need to do is chuck them a cereal bar – how difficult can it be?

As part of the week’s events we are going to talk to two school assemblies tomorrow. Three hundred children. I don’t like public speaking at the best of times but holding the attention of that many kids is going to be tricky.

I’ve heard people say they would rather die than speak in public. I wouldn’t go that far, even though I really do loathe it, but I’m thinking that if Julia organises anything like this again I might just kill her.

 

 

Whatever happened to Poets day?

By “Poet’s day” I refer to the “Push off early, tomorrow’s Saturday” variety (and its less polite derivatives), not National Poetry Day, which is something completely different.

What starts with preparing a set of international breakfasts (England, Scotland, France, Germany, USA) and ends with preparing for apple pressing on Saturday? That’s right – Friday.

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International breakfasts

The kids, as usual, voted for the German Breakfast – salami, cheese and rye bread. The French (pain au chocolat), was second along with the American (pancakes and honey). English (toast and marmalade) and Scottish (overnight oats with fruit) came bottom.

I could have added a further breakfast by doing toast and Vegemite and calling it an  Australian breakfast but it didn’t work out well last time we tried it.

They may not be the best examples of national breakfasts but we have time and cash constraints with these presentations. I’m not about to cook a dozen Full English breakfasts, for instance, and last time we made proper Scottish porridge the kids put so much sugar in it the healthy eating message was well and truly buried under a heap of calories.

So – shopping, breakfast for 12 kids, Men in Sheds (where we had tools, mugs and jam jars donated), back for apple pressing demo, replace fuse in electric scratter, press juice for someone in return for donation of apples and pears, clean up, blog, get ready for tomorrow’s pressing, set Saturday Cafe up, make overnight oats for cafe, home, sleep in front of TV. I think that’s all.

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Routing the arrow signs for the footpaths

I’m slightly worried that things are going too well.