Tag Archives: grey

Day 15

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Day 16 is coming to a close as I finally get round to Day 15’s events.

Saturday (or Day 15 as I call it in my new, dull, boring fashion) was a day of little promise. It started misty and eventually cleared so that it was just grey and cold.

I rose a little later than is my habit during the week, grabbed my bag and got to the shop just in time to secure the last parking space by the shop. I then breakfasted on the sandwich I had prepared in advance.

An email the previous night had told me that I had a winning lottery ticket but at £3 I am going to let it change my life. Yes, I am back buying lottery tickets. I don’t buy many and I don’t smoke or drink so I feel that the occasional lottery ticket won’t break the bank. The best bit is that in the time between buying it and realising I have not won, I can dream of cruises in warm places.

I also dream of buying twenty or thirty old cars and abandoning them in places that will cause the most inconvenience to people who have annoyed me by parking badly by the shop or in the street. If I had money it probably wouldn’t make me a nicer person.

We had a few sales in the shop, including a multiple purchase from someone who bought four items that we had listed less than a week (two of them had only been listed in the hour before we went home on Friday (Day 14) recently and three that had been on for ages. It just goes to show the benefits of putting things on regularly, as it attracts people onto your site.

We also had a couple of customers in to buy things and several coming in to sell, so it was a pleasant enough day. If I hadn’t have been at work I wouldn’t have done much anyway, with the cold, damp weather and my disinclination to mix with people. (See Day 16, when written, for an account of such a day).

From Bed to Verse

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Post 2,313

28th January 2021

As usual, nothing of importance to relate. I woke while it was still half-dark and had to look at my phone for a time check. The clocks went forward in the night so we lost an hour and I can no longer tell the time by the degree of light outside.

Temperatures have dropped from yesterday, it is windy and there are flecks of rain on the window. From what I remember of setting up my WordPress account it would be called something like “Standard Autumn”  or even  “Just Grey”.

All the normal things happened, the ones I normally filter out of my daily posts – trouser troubles, stiff knees, feeling the gaps when I brush my teeth.

I found myself thinking about prostates this morning. It’s my age. part of me says that I really ought to have a serious conversation with a doctor. Part of me says that I do not want to be part of any conversation that occurs whilst I have my back turned to a stranger wearing rubber gloves. Even worse, a conversation with someone I know, who is wearing rubber gloves.

That led me on to Richard Mabey. When I was last in male urology I was in the middle of reading one of his books and Clare Pooley suggested another of his books when I was convalescing. He ended up in male urology at one point and used the experience to write about water, internal and external, in a a philosophical manner. I used the experience to complain about the NHS, including sandwiches made with white bread and two cancelled operations. I seem to lack the spiritual dimension needed to be a great nature writer. I could, however, have had a lucrative and fulfilling career as a management consultant in the NHS if my life had turned out differently. Or as John Lewis-Stempel. I wouldn’t mind being John Lewis-Stempel.

This is an interesting thought but not one I’m going to dwell on as i have things to do. Poems don’t write themselves, and, as yet, there is no such thing as self-spreading marmalade. That would be a great advance – no more balancing knives and pots on corners of my desk where papers and pill packets haven’t spread. No more juggling, no more sticky patches on the desk, or fluff on toast.

I must make a note of that. But first I must write poems. I am feeling in a very Limerick mood.

A Suffolk blogger called Pooley,
has a name that rhymes with Gilhooley.
It could have been worse,
in this sort of verse,
it often ends up rhymed with…

…that probably needs a bit of work. It may also not work for Americans as I am not sure. I just checked the dictionary and things got even more confused. On top of that, and following the nature writer theme, I find there is a man called Tristan Gooley. Words fail me. And that is not a common occurrence. And this was going to be such a subtle ending…

 

Cup a Soup Chronicles II – Bachelor’s Mushroom with Croutons

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Cup a Soup Chronicles II (22.02.21)

Batchelor’s Mushroom – ASDA 75p for four sachets

Well, it’s another grey soup, but this time grey is acceptable. Mushroom soup is meant to be grey. It’s also meant to taste like mushrooms and this one did, though a lot of it seemed to sink to the bottom as I drank.

You need to gauge things just right with the croutons. It takes a few minutes to get them nicely soft. Depends whether you like your croutons crunchy or soft.

When I prepare this one I stir, leave it to stand for a few minutes to soften the croutons and then stir again before drinking.

Bachelor’s Mushroom Cup a Soup

I normally drink the mushroom, and have only branched out because I need variety for a series of reviews. It would be difficult to have  a whole series based on Mushroom Cup a Soup of different makes. Who knows, I may even find a soup I prefer to mushroom.  It’s unlikely but it’s possible. Mushroom is one of my favourites.

Somehow I seem to have come to the end of the review without using many words. I’ve already said it’s my favourite, that grey is acceptable as a colour for mushroom soup and that the croutons are better if allowed to soften a bit. That really sums it up.

I only had one this time because, although I like my readers, I don’t think it’s worth having a stroke just to test a second cup of high salt soup.

Bachelor’s Mushroom Cup a Soup

That’s the difference between testing soup and scones – I could eat scones all week and not bother about it, because they seem wholesome.  Cup a Soup is just a sachet full of chemicals and strikes me of being a foodstuff that is nice once in a while – when you come in from a long cold walk for instance. It’s not something I’d want on regular basis.

Nutritionally it’s one step down from a Pot Noodle, and it’s over a year since I had a Pot Noodle. At least you get decent noodles in a Pot Noodle. It’s probably one step down from the box it comes in too, as that is lower in salt and, I assume, higher in fibre.

Ah well, next week it’s Oxtail. I used to like Oxtail soup when I was a kid. I’ve never had it as a Cup a Soup and it will be interesting to see what it’s like.

Bachelor’s Mushroom Cup a Soup – lower salt but higher in everything else than the Chicken Noodle