On looking at bags in Debenhams, they had a 20% sale on, you'd think they were offering them with a Faberge egg and a year's supply of lottery tickets, a scuffle broke out between two women I say women, one was growling so much, she may have been part Rottweiller over one, frankly, rather tatty looking creation and they turned to me for 'advice' by advice, I mean a decision. By decision I mean they both wanted me to tell them that they were right. I suppose you got all that from the quotes anyway and there is really no need for me to explain further...well, tough, I'm in a lyrical mood....by lyrical I mean....oh never mind. On stating that I wasn't getting involved, they both decided to 'involve' me anyway by turning their lovely mouths to terms of endearment in cursing form; that was fun. By fun I mean not fun. By cursing, I mean swearing ....oh, you got that? Good. Just wanted to clarify. One called me a bitch. Can you believe that? Me? Lovely, unbitchless wee me. Man, that bag was fugly.
I had no phone with me to tell the time I don't wear a watch, I'm a rebel without a Cassio.... and didn't worry about it too much, considering I left the house at 9.15am and didn't have to be back until 3.30pm. On entering a very calm, sedate establishment who sell nothing but white yes, white....just white...I became aware of a man becoming increasingly angry. He'd been back three times looking for 'pomegranate' you don't want to know and they STILL didn't have it? It was an OUTRAGE. The girl suggested he go to Jo Malone, they did Pomegranate apparently... Her manager wasn't too impressed. My outrage managed to surface for a brief millisecond when I realised Pomegranate was what I wanted too or had he just put the power of suggestion into my mind? but quickly subsided when I realised Ginger was better. I wanted to call after him "HEY! Ginger's better! Pomegranate SUCKS!" but thought better of it.
You'd think that would be it for my day, wouldn't you? Nooooooo. I've not even started on the food yet and there's some way to go. For those of you waiting for pics, just scroll down to the bottom and ignore the rest of this diatribe.
Asking someone the time, you'd think I'd asked for a kidney, the way she sighed and told me it, eyes raised to the sky, reluctantly looking at her watch, as if lifting up her arm caused her enough activity to have to go lie down for an hour, I realised that I was, in fact cutting it fine and headed for the train station. On waiting at Partick, the hub of all activity in Glasgow....it's like the Rail version of the Bermuda Triangle....strange things gather and drama abounds....the usual token nutter comes up the escalators, shouting abuse at rail staff at the top of his voice. We're used to this sort of thing, it doesn't happen every day but usually, the nutter will go sit somewhere away from everyone and continue to shout until he falls asleep and is removed by local authority.
When the train pulled in, everyone headed for one carriage, away from the shouting bearded man and that was fine, until he got lonely and came looking for us, so he could shout some more. What's the point after all, without an audience.
So eventually the train pulls to a halt. The man is wrapped round a pole, refusing to leave. Twenty of them mingle round, scratching their heads and drawing up plans on How To Remove A Nutter From A Pole.
Some time later, the Big Man gets on the train. He surveys the scene, look of bored disgust on his face, arms folded in front of him. He assesses the situation and without even looking at anyone, he simply kicks out his foot, just enough to make the man fall over so that he is caught by the other twenty and dragged out of the carriage. The Big Man shakes his head at the Little People, annoyed to be taken away from his sports fixtures and goes about his business.
The train continues and I arrive at the station, a 30 minute walk from my destination. So to cut a long story a tiny bit shorter, I've been walking for hours, I get the kids, we go food shopping, I have ten minutes to get organised for yoga and even refuse an offer to go to the pub...unheard of, I can assure you...and go home to normality. I open the door to find the youngest wee lass crying her eyes out, the other two looking crestfallen and an upside down fish being given resuscitation by an anxious dad. So the rest of the evening is spent massaging a fish, comforting children and falling asleep exhausted. Our lovely wee goldfish died, after six years, just as two baby gerbils arrived. What HAVE we done?
Raspberry Shortbread and Whisky Cream Cupcakes for Burn's Day.
Vegetable Lasagna being prepared; recipe to follow, this was delicious!
Helen's Calzone Attempt.
Caramel Apple Granny; wish I'd got a better picture but, mmmmmmmm. This was good.
The Apply Granny; you can't find a recipe for this so I made it up ans was pretty happy with the results...I promise to share.
Making Chicken and Potato Chimichangas...frying the potatoes in a little turmeric, salt, pepper, thyme, garlic clove. I used leftover chicken which had been breaded.
Filling the tortilla.
Adding the cheese, Monteray Jack if in the US, grated Mozzarella if in the UK.
Folding up the chimichangas. From here, fry for a minute or so both sides in a little oil then bake in oven for 10 minutes. They go lovely golden brown, the cheese melts and everyone enjoys. Normally, I'd make this with chillies, salsa, etc. but sometimes you just have to use up those leftovers the best way you see fit!
This looks like a blob but man oh man, was this good; chocolate orange cake, recipe to follow. I'm making one tonight so more photos...as a whole cake this time!
Pork, chorizo, roasted pepper,s new potatoes, tomato sauce, thyme, olives....the list goes on. This dish was so easy and very tasty. Again, recipes to follow.
Wholemeal chocolate cupcakes with Nutella Icing. Grand.
Aunty Marion's cupcakes.
The cupcakes were lemon drizzle with lemon icing. They were well tasty!
Root Vegetable Gratin....another winner, recipe to follow.
In memory of our wee goldfish.
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