Tag Archives: sandwiches

Pixelated Pottering

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Great Tit

It started well. I woke, blinked in the dawn light and found that I was fully functional, which isn’t always the case in the morning. Up, wash, clean teeth, on to the computer. Answered a couple of emails, checked comments on WP and played that addictive game with the snakes made out of squares. I really must give it up. Ten or fifteen minutes soon melt away. By the time I finished, snarling at the screen, Julia was making breakfast. I did some filing and she called me through.

We had cereal, blueberries and sliced banana and toasted fruit bread. (Julia had been seized by the urge to bake yesterday. We watched the birds for a bit (saw a Jay for the second time since moving in and the first time since starting to record for the BTO Garden Bird Survey). Washed up.

Back in the office I began to prepare previously taken photographs to add to a couple of posts I am doing for the Numismatic Society. I also did the final edits for the posts and assembled the emails, putting text and photos together and putting them in the “Draft” box. One I then sent. The other will wait until next week. Then I went to the list of my Facebook publications and added the titles of the two new articles to the list (in italics). The other one in italics on the list, I turned to ordinary letters as it is now up on the page. In the file of FB articles I proceeded to put that one in the “Published” sub-folder and moved the two new ones from “Documents” to the file of articles awaiting publication.

Long-tailed Tit

Though it seems like a long time when you have to read the  boring detail, it actually takes even longer to do than it does to describe.

A bit more filing, this time spending a little time on sorting things out, answer some more emails, chase some cubes around the screen, search for, and fail to find, a letter from the tax office, and it’s time for lunch. I haven’t even written a list of jobs to do yet and I’ve frittered away half a day on things of little importance.

With deadlines looming, I need to be writing poetry, not corresponding with insurance companies and people who sell lemon trees.

I made egg sandwiches for Julia using the leftover egg mayonnaise from last night and had cheese and tomato myself. We had Afternoon Tea yesterday with my sister, hence the large amount of sandwiches in our diet. We will be back to proper food tonight – sausage casserole.

Blue Tit

During lunch we saw a coal tit on the feeders. We haven’t seen one since before Christmas, so that’s another new one for the survey.  I’m now back at the keyboard blogging about all the things I haven’t done, but as I close in on 500 words I really must get down to some useful work.

It was during lunch when I was complaining I didn’t seem to be able to get anything done and referring to “working” in the “office” that Julia pointed out that all I was doing was pixilated pottering in the spare room. She isn’t wrong, but it’s still a stinging criticism.

When this is loaded I am going to look for a sausage casserole recipe. And still no poetry written . . .

Little Egret

 

A Post About Vegetables

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It’s that time of night again, and having got used to relaxing I am having to force myself from a comfortable chair and set to cooking without a plan. The vague notion was “cauliflower cheese”. I thought I might do cauliflower steaks but it started falling apart and so I compromised by roasting two halves. It will be much the same, just not so charred and attractive. But there will be fewer irritating cauliflower bits around the place. They get everywhere!

Tree Gibraltar Point, Lincolnshire - dramatic setting

Tree Gibraltar Point, Lincolnshire – dramatic setting

Sweetcorn and baked potatoes will be the only accompaniment in what is likely to be a disappointing meal. And a small amount of cheese sauce – we seem to have used most of the cheese. My vegetable intake has gone down seriously over the last few weeks and I need to address it.  If I count the berries I had for breakfast as one portion, the cauliflower and sweetcorn only makes three and an apple will make four. That’s one short on my five a day and quite a lot short on the recommendations of many countries, and many scientists. I have let it slip badly over the last few months.

Time, next week, to start clawing my way back to eating better. The first step is planning. Sitting down to order from a list is always likely to result in better meals than pressing buttons as I try to think. That’s why we end up with sausages, pasties, pizzas and quiches so many times. Add a few beans, some potato and a tub of shop coleslaw with a few salad bits, and you are set for the week. It’s neither healthy nor nutritious, but it is filling.

Dabchick, Gibraltar Point, Lincolnshire

Dabchick, Gibraltar Point, LincolnshireIt’s partly to do with being rushed all the time (or disorganised, as it is also known) , and partly to do with being lazy.

I also need to get back to making soup. I’ve been having far too much cheese on toast for lunch. It is fatty, calorific and lacks vegetables, even with tomato or spring onions on top. Soup is much better.

A late butterfly

Pictures are from September 2020 – post apocalypse.

The Day in Retrospect (and Soup)

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After lunch arrived the activity of the day became a little slower. In fact, for one of us it slowed down to gentle breathing pace interspersed with cups of tea and suggestions from Julia that it might be a good idea to wake up.

So far I have done a bit of washing up and finalised three submissions for The Haibun Journal. It’s not what you’d think of if you had to define the term “workload”.

Currently I’m making soup as a change of pace from editing. I’m going to write this post whilst the soup simmers. One pot is Tomato, Lentil and Chilli. The other is Curried Yellow Pea soup.  Yes, it’s welcome to “What Does Simon have in his Cupboard Tonight?”. I’m hoping they will see me through three lunches and at least one main meal. To be accurate, that’s my second hope. My first hope is that the yellow split pea soup works. I’ve not made it before and the peas take a while to cook. I’m hazy on recipes (just adapting my normal process of boiling and blitzing without bothering too much about the rest of it. My concern at the moment, apart from proportions and cooking time is that the recipe I’m using as a guide refers to “vibrant, spicy, yellow soup”. Mine is red. That’s because I used curry powder instead of spices. Hopefully, by the time I’ve blitzed it and added turmeric and lemon juice it might be yellow, though as long as it tastes OK I’m not overly concerned.

Carrot & Ginger Soup

Carrot & Ginger Soup

The plan is to use soup as a replacement for sandwiches at lunchtime as sandwiches tend to involve bread, cheese, and pickle. Or carbs, fat and salt as they are better known.

Later:

The Great British Sewing Bee has ended for another year. I won’t spoil the ending for you but the winner was the one we suspected it would be. You can generally tell these things weeks before. It’s not generally the standard of sewing but the favouritism of the judges that gives it away. Fortunately the judges’ favourite also produced the best dress of teh final so it was all OK this year.

The soup has turned out alright. It’s a bit under-seasoned as a result of my decision not to use stock cubes but no problems apart from that. Even the Yellow Split Pea Soup came through with a recognisable yellow colour. The lentils have thickened the tomato a little too much but nothing a splash of water won’t fix. Yellow split peas are £1 a kilo, which should do eight or ten portions of soup. It tastes nice and it delights my sense of economy.

Carrot, Parsnip and Swede Soup

 

The Nap Trap and Problems with Class

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Last night I got stuck with the sandwiches.

“I feel very tired,” said Julia, yawning. “Can you do the sandwiches?”

Well, I can’t really say no, seeing as she does more housework than I do. I, on the other hand, do more eating, poetry and driving than she does, but I never get any credit for this when the subject of my laziness comes up for discussion.

The sandwiches are cheap paté from ASDA and the vegetarian accompaniment is sliced water melon. It beats carrot sticks. However, carrot sticks are probably better for me. Cardboard would probably be better for me too, as it would fill me up without too much in the way of salt, sugar or carbs.

The evening started badly when I made up for my poor overnight sleep with two substantial naps. The second started around 11pm and lasted until 1.30am, which is always bad news. At that time I get up feeling like I need bed but have to make sandwiches. This in turn wakes me up, meaning I sleep badly and will then fall into the nap trap again.

Really I should just go to bed then get up early to make sandwiches, but I’d be so scared of oversleeping that I’d never get off to sleep properly.

The real solution is, I suppose, to make the sandwiches at 4pm when I return home, but I have always made them as late as possible to keep them fresh. It’s one of those habits you get into. I always feel that if you leave it late you can use things like cucumber and tomato, which would make the sandwich too soggy if left for too long.

Do you have any old-established habits which you would like to change?

When I win the lottery I will have Julia send the butler down at regular intervals with sandwiches, fresh fruit salad and ice cream. I’d probably have a fresh shirt delivered for the afternoon too, though I’m not sure if that would be a job for the butler or whether I’d need a valet for that. That’s the trouble with being brought up as working class in a class-ridden society – no matter how much money you may dream of winning, there’s always that basic insecurity of never being quite sure which servant does which job.

 

 

Day 142

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In the end we had sausages for breakfast. It would have been more economical, and probably healthier, to have had them for tea, but it just seemed like the right thing to do. What better way is there to start a week than eating a surprise gift of sausages?

That’s right, following them up with marmalade on toast. Julia bought some nice mixed grain bread yesterday and I allow myself toast and marmalade on Sundays.The rest of the week, I do without it as part of my cheerless diet routine. There are a varying number of calories in a slice of toast and marmalade – let’s go for 150 as an average figure.  Cut out toast and marmalade for 6 days and that’s 900 calories. Cut it out for 48 weeks (allowing myself a little leeway for weakness and holidays) and that’s 43,200 calories if my mental arithmetic is reliable.

As my daily intake is supposed to be around 2,500 calories cutting out a slice of toast and marmalade a day is the same as fasting for two and half weeks (17.28 days). I did that on the calculator, and double checked it all, as that seems a lot. Tootlepedal has told me several times that dieting is all about making small, almost imperceptible cuts in consumption. If a slice of toast and marmalade a day comes to this, you can see how it works.

Lunch was home made mushroom soup and a sandwich made from smoked mackerel pate. Julia likes fish, I am less keen. As a compromise I bought smoked mackerel last week. She ate some of it and I mixed the rest with soft cheese, black pepper and lemon juice to make the smoked mackerel pate. It made two good sandwiches for lunch and will make two more for lunch tomorrow. I normally make it using the small blender (we don’t have a big one these days) but was feeling lazy today so just whizzed it together using a fork. There is less washing up that way. I’m going to add some chopped spring onion tops and sliced cucumber for tomorrow so I can pretend I am on an elegant Edwardian picnic tomorrow rather than sitting in the windowless back room of a coin shop.

Today’s picture is the tank traps at Gibraltar Point. Strange to think how things have gone – Julia’s grandfather was one of the first tank drivers. I grew up seeing tank traps along the coast (and still do) and on the news from Ukraine it seems that the tank is no obsolete on the modern battlefield. A century of ingenuity went into designing a weapon that is now outdated, but we still don’t have a safe and satisfactory way of opening a can of corned beef.

Makes you wonder about the human race.

The End of the Day

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Julia just woke me up with the words “You’ve done it again.”

She has, it seems, spent the last two hours in the company of a man who has been resting his eyes, and another evening has passed. Even the offer of a Club biscuit, which I found alongside my cold cup of tea, had failed to persuade me to open my eyes.

Looking on the bright side, I will be well rested when I get up tomorrow morning and head off for my latest blood test.

Today did not continue in the useful way of yesterday. I fell at the first hurdle. My initial to do list contained one item – write a to do list – and I failed to do that.

At work I packaged items which had only been listed on Tuesday. It is strange how things sell. Three of the items were newly listed – one of them had been listed for 18 months (the market for Edward VIII Coronation keyrings does not seem strong). You just can’t tell.

My first task, after seeing off the biscuit, was to make sandwiches. It is sandwich-making at its simplest – open a cob,  butter it, insert a cheese slice and add pickle – but it is also at its finest. The classic simplicity of a cheese and pickle sandwich is hard to beat. We had tomatoes in it today, but I don’t feel up to slicing tomatoes tonight. It is a technical job and not one well-suited to a man who is half asleep.

The same could be said for blogging, but I seem to have managed…

The Day So Far

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Summary: Started well but tailed off towards mid-day.

Rose at 6.30, dressed, had cereal for breakfast, drove to City Hospital, found car parking was still free, found a space.

7.15 – took ticket number 16 in Phlebotomy, hummed a few bars of a well known show tune of my youth, and waited. And waited.

13 came out, 14 went in. 14 came out. 15 went in. 16, of course, waited. There was a sound of chatter from the room. A member of staff went in, came out, went back in with a phone, came out, the chatter continued…

I have noticed this tendency for them to introduce random pauses into the system before.

Was finally admitted into the room, which had three staff, five bays, room for ten people (according to the sign on the door) and no patients. Number 17 was allowed in seconds after me, as they had plenty of space.

I was punctured efficiently, donated the required tubeful and left.

Picked Julia up and took her to work, then went to see my jeweller friends for the first time in just over four months. Moaned about business, drank tea.

Went across the road to collect something from the pharmacy. Involved in a disorderly queue which included a deaf man and a wiry-haired dog of indeterminate breed but great character. Had trouble re-crossing the road due to traffic until a young woman in a Nissan Micra stopped to let me cross. Since when have I become an avuncular recipient of charity from young women drivers?

Got home, plotted world domination, thought of my sandwich options for lunch.

Booked the car in for MOT next Wednesday. If my MOT date had been two weeks earlier I would have qualified for the six month extension, but I don’t. Typical of my luck.

Tried to arrange a repeat prescription on-line. Didn’t work. It didn’t work last month either. Rang the surgery who told me to email it, just like last month. Enquired as to why it constantly refuses to work and was told to email a photo in so they can check my identity. Was verging on sarcastic as I pointed out that it would just be the same photo ID that I used when proving my ID last time. Can’t believe it is this difficult to get 100 Warfarin tablets. It would be easier to buy rat poison,

Screwfix sell one ready made into blocks with “culinary-grade wheat flour, chopped grain, soft lard and synthetic peanut butter flavouring”. I’m not known as a gastronome, but that sounds delicious.

I’m still thinking about that sandwich. Maybe toasted cheese…

This afternoon I will write, before picking Julia up from work.

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Yes, it’s actually my writing, though even I can’t read it…

Taking a Breath

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A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare

W. H. Davies

We took time out on Wednesday to buy sandwiches from the supermarket and take a drive into the countryside. It wasn’t as comfortable as it could have been because I had a feeling that I should have planned better and made our own sandwiches. In my defence we didn’t know what time Julia’s meeting would end and everything was a bit chaotic.

Shopping at the supermarket still doesn’t feel comfortable, paying the cost of ready made sandwiches seems extravagant after months of economy, and aimlessly driving in the countryside also seems wrong.

On the other hand, sitting at home is beginning to wear a bit thin too.

Gatekeeper
Gatekeeper
Gatekeeper

We eventually found a verge to park on and ate sandwiches whilst watching the local wildlife – which was butterflies. The flies were too small to see from the car, the grasshoppers were hidden and though we heard the call of pheasants and saw a few wood pigeons there didn’t seem to be much bird life about either.

By the time I got out of the car, brushing crumbs from my newly decorated shirt, the Peacock and the White butterflies had all gone and the promising reddish brown ones all turned out top be Gatekeepers, which are common, and not much more interesting than the Peacocks and Whites.

I clearly need to brush up on my butterfly stalking technique,and my grasshopper hunting methods as I managed to see them only as they leapt to escape my feet. I didn’t get a single grasshopper shot, just  a few flies as a relief from Gatekeepers.

Even my attempts at photographing sloes were thwarted by a sparse selection and poor lighting. It’s bad when you can’t even get a shot of something that just hangs there without moving…

My efforts are a far cry from the fine efforts made by Beating the Bounds, a blog I haven’t read for a while. On seeing this post, I was glad I had chosen to return.

Insects on Thistles
Fly on a leaf
Two Cyclists

As you can tell from the captions, I have returned to my original style of uninformative caption. I must do better, but, to be honest, I’ve made it through the first 62 years without trying too hard, so why change now?

They say that hard work never killed anybody, but that’s what I thought about Covid 19 to start with. It seems silly to take a chance.

The final shot is the Grasshopper that emerged from the garden when we returned home on Friday– displaying itself on the tarmac. This is not the setting you most associate with an insect that has the word “grass” in its name.

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Grasshopper on tarmac – probably a Common Field Grasshopper

Birds on Banknotes

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Sudanese Banknotes

Last night I started writing the looming presentation then made sandwiches. I always leave them until late as it keeps them fresher. This is more important these days as I no longer wrap them, just put them in a plastic box. So far it has worked, and we have cut down on plastic and foil.

I made my normal tuna filling – tin of tuna, chopped spring onion, black pepper and mayonnaise. I often add lemon juice or zest, but had no lemon last night.

I had no cobs either, so used sliced bread. Two rounds each, because Julia works hard and I’m greedy. That was when I discovered something interesting. The surface area of two slices of bread, being larger than that of two cobs, means that the spread only makes three sandwiches. That was why I had one cheese and pickle sandwich and one tuna sandwich.

Then, off to the living room to fall uncomfortably asleep in my chair. That wasn’t actually my intention but it was what happened. I fell asleep shortly before midnight and woke slightly after 2.30. Crawled up to bed, woke Julia, agreed with Julia that I was (a) inconsiderate (b) cold and (c) old enough to know better. Two hours later I rose, as my body has developed the habit of producing more liquid than it takes in, and managed to slip back into bed without Julia noticing.

Another note from Suriname

Another note from Suriname

At 6.40 I woke again, as I have developed a habit of waking just before the alarm goes off. In the days of mechanical alarm clocks I put this down to the preparatory click that my clock used to give. In the days of electronic technology I can only suggest it’s a primaeval instinct. And a bloody nuisance.

Smugly, after a brief chat with Julia, I snuggled back under the covers and enjoyed the warm and virtuous feeling of a man who, because of circumstances beyond his control, need not get out of bed to give his wife a lift to work an hour and a half before he really wants to get up.

There really is no better feeling than lying under a stack of covers feeling warm and relaxed. Well, warm relaxed and with a bacon sandwich would be better, if I’m honest, but Julia seems resistant to suggestions that she cooks my breakfast before leaving.

At work I took 85 photographs of banknotes and dealt with twenty one phone enquiries about rare coins and similar things. My world tour has moved from Sudan to Trinidad and Tobago. I prefer the designs of the latter, but Sudan is a lot easier to type.

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Swedish 20 Kronor – the figure on the back of the goose is Nils, from the books by Selma Lagerlof -a very interesting writer I had never heard of until today.

I wish I’d worked harder at school and got a proper skill…

 

Once bitten…

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I have just been watching Dracula on TV. It has been, to put it mildly, a patchy experience. The story has been spread over three nights, which is one of its weak points as there was only enough story, I felt, to fill half that time. Or less.

The first episode was drawn out and dull. The second episode was tedious and lacked grip. It finally came to life in the closing moments. The third episode was quite good and I could have watched more of it. So, could do better, and if anything similar comes along I’ll probably give it a miss.

Once bitten, twice shy.

Just a short post tonight, as I’ve got to go and make tomorrow’s sandwiches.

I finished the Christmas Chutney today. It has been very good, and reminded me of the Christmas Chutney I used to make in my farm kitchen days. It’s good and fruity and packing plenty of Christmas spice. Mine used to have cranberries in but was much the same flavour.

All went well until I chewed down on my final cheese sandwich and found half a plum stone. They clearly hadn’t skimmed it properly, which was one of the reasons I preferred to de-stone the fruit before using it. It’s quicker to boil and skim, but there’s always the risk of a broken tooth. Fortunately there was no dental damage from this episode, just a bit of a shock.