Tag Archives: Malta

Even More Guest Photos…

It’s late again, and we’ve just been to a barbecue to celebrate Julia’s sister’s 50th birthday. It’s amazing how things change over the years. I won’t labour the point but when I first met the family there were none of the grey-haired, balding, wrinkly brothers-in-law that were in evidence today (and I include myself in that number). Nor were the alluring siren-like and sophisticated sisters-in-law anywhere – they were mereĀ  giggly girls in those days.

So, as a quick fix – more Malta guest photos in the style of those from yesterday

 

 

More Guest Photos

Suddenly realised, at 11.54, that I needed to post before midnight. What should I post? Well, here are some photos from Julia’s trip to Malta. Featured image shows her with offspring, in case you are wondering who the two strange men are. I particularly like the one of the cactus, though the one of Julia isn’t too bad. The Seawater Distillery building is quite interesting too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bins, boxes and barbecues

We only sold four lots over the weekend. Two of them sold on Saturday afternoon, after the Post Office closed, so we packed them before we left. Two sold on Sunday. Then, as we looked at the small pile of post someone bought another lot.

Five parcels.

I think we might have to postpone plans to buy a new box of teabags.

Meanwhile, I just had a phone call from Malta. Apparently the weather was great at East Midland Airport, glorious over France, lovely over the Alps, grey over Italy and murky in Malta.

It’s a lovely evening in Nottingham. Nice and bright and warm and I didn’t need to queue up, sit on an aeroplane or defy nature to get here. I just sat on a chair.

It’s also, according to the photograph Julia just sent, dark in Malta. You’ll have to take my word for it as I’m struggling to download the photo. It seems to have plenty of water and reflected lights in it so I’m sure you’ll love it if I manage to download it.

Julia left me a packet of Mr Kipling Cherry Bakewells. It was waiting for me when I returned home and helped ease the pain of parting. Unfortunately I can’t provide you with a picture of that either. I suppose I ought to be ashamed of myself.

I had ham sandwiches for lunch. I also had ham sandwiches for tea. At the moment I’m debating having ham sandwiches for supper. I like ham sandwiches, and cooking for one keeps the shopping simpler. I’m considering what to buy for tomorrow. If I buy a piece of gammon I can cook it and use it to make ham sandwiches for the next few days.

So far I’ve only used white cobs and Branston pickle. I have multi-seed bread and a choice of mustard or tomato relish available, so I’ve barely scraped the surface of the variety of choices available in the world of ham sandwiches.

I may even consider salad.

If ham sandwiches start to lose their appeal, and I don’t see why they would, I have a reserve stock of cheese.

It’s fairly clear from this that the difference between a normal man and a recluse with a ham fixation is only a few hours. That, I suppose, is why it’s good for men to get married.

Today’s pictures are some I took in the Mencap garden last week. The theme is recycled waste bins, boxes and barbcues. That gives me an idea for a title…