Category Archives: food and drink

Not so “Dear” Tesco

imageDear Tesco
Now, I know you are being ripped a new arsehole by your competitors at the moment and probably don’t have time to listen to a mere customer. But, as one of the remaining foolhardy few, may I be so bold as to make a suggestion? Sort your sodding carrier bags out!!!

The current batch you are using aren’t fit to be called useless. What are they made from? Fairy wings? Baby hair? Unicorn eyelashes? All I know is that if I put in anything heavier than a cotton wool ball they disintegrate faster than Prince Andrew’s reputation. At this rate I’m going to need a human chain to get my shopping from the trolley into my car boot.

Yes, I know you provide reusable bags but I have about 84 in my kitchen drawer which I never remember to reuse and, to be quite honest, rocking up with a haul of garishly illustrated carriers makes me feel like my grandma.

Up until now I’ve resisted the allure of Lidl and Aldi despite glowing recommendations from just about everyone I know (partly because of their carrier bag situation but mainly because I am a massive snob), but you’re losing me Tesco, I’m ready to leave you in disgust after yet another futile attempt to get my goods from the car to the kitchen without leaving a trail of my shopping at the mercy of the neighbourhood cats.

This is your last warning…….

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Last look back, I promise!

July-December: July came and brought me pneumonia! I didn’t just inherit my Grandma’s cheekbones and youthful looking skin, I got her bloody chronically weak chest too (hidden behind a fantastic pair of bazoomas even if I do say so myself!) but I soldiered on heroically, I then got the letter confirming I was surplus to requirements (it actually said that in writing!)the day before I went away on holiday, talk about a kick in the teeth from the lizard-faced incompetent with the freakish neck.

So off we went to Mexico and I tried to put it to the back of my mind. The beautiful Mexican sun as well as time with my two beloved men warmed my soul and healed my chest. The country and people were as wonderful and beautiful as ever and I tried my hardest to be positive I really did but I could feel it looming, that menacing dragon was gathering her strength and feeding on the pain I was trying desperately to hide.

We came back from Mexico and the depression hit me like a spade in the face. I literally felt like one of those cartoon characters you see with all of the stuffing knocked out of them and it took every ounce of my strength to fight it, but fight it I did – it was either that or end up in a mental ward wearing clashing patterns and letting my hair go grey, soooo not my style dahling!

So, I jumpedon the “searching for a job”train. I was very lucky, I got an interview for the first job I applied for. It was almost exactly what I was already doing and looked to be tailor made for me! Except the person who wrote the job description must have been at the sherry…

I arrived for the interview nervous but quietly confident. Pleasantries were exchanged etc then followed the most excruciating, arse-clenchingly awful 30 minutes of my life. It became very clear, very quickly that the job description had no bearing at all on the actual job and I sat like a rabbit in the headlights trying to answer questions that might as well have been asked in Korean for the sense they made. I should have stopped it there and then. I should have had the balls to say that there had been a mistake but no, the misery continued with me wanting to ram my whole fist into my mouth rather than spout any more of the drivel I was coming out with!! Needless to say, I didn’t get the job – I wouldn’t have taken it if they’d offered it – there’s no way I’d work for an organisation who’d employ the babbling idiot I’d presented myself as!

I managed to get over the crippling shame and embarrassment with the help of my lovely friend DerekBee who set about sending me voice messages of hugely inappropriate answers to interview questions, which we both found hilarious (you had to be there I suppose).

I then got another interview for a really interesting job and I had a really interesting journey to that particular interview – see my post entitled “it-could-only-happen to me”

It’s now nearly the end of the year and my humongous chest has let me down again. Pleurisy this time which ended up with a Boxing Day visit to A&E begging an Eastern European doctor for strong drugs! So Christmas was a little subdued to say the least but it’s still been nice – if you like that sort of thing. I’m not a Christmas fan, never have been. In fact when I was single and lived alone I steadfastly ignored it! Now I have my family it’s not really acceptable to do that and I tried making a fist of it when Child was younger and still try my best to be festive and hide my Grinchyness!

Hmmm, that’s about it really, not desperately exciting, definite highs and lows. Thank you very much for reading my blog this year – it’s really nice to be indulged! I’ve loved writing it and if I wasn’t such a lazy cow I would have written more often. I could make it my New Year’s resolution to do so but I’m not big on those either!

So, adios 2013, I’ve had better years but I’ve also had worse; come on then 2014 let’s see what you’re made of…..Now, where did I put that Weightwatchers leaflet?….

Another retrospective….

My word you’re made of strong stuff! You’ve come back to read more about my scintillating year? Well, I don’t blame you. There’s bugger all on the telly and it’s too bloody windy to go for a walk…

So, where were we?

April-July: things were trundling along nicely, I ate my body weight in chocolate having discovered the joys of Hotel Chocolat on a shopping trip with a friend. I indulged the family with eye-wateringly expensive Easter eggs from said chocolatier – I might as well have gone to the pound shop for all the notice they took – Philistines!

Work was going really well, I don’t think I’d ever loved a job as much. There was a meeting in May where the head stated that the school was in a terrible financial situation and jobs might have to go. I wasn’t unduly worried, I mean I’d only been in the job 6 months,yes, but there was no one else to do the work I did, I was crazy busy all the time and obviously they wouldn’t have taken me on if they knew…yada, yada, yada….I almost convinced myself until the slimy-looking incompetent who’d let the place get into such a situation came into my office with a letter and “heartfelt” apologies. That was at 11am. By 2pm I was in a meeting with the slimy-looking incompetent who was telling me it was a fait accompli. I was being binned on 31 Dec and there was nothing I could do about it. I resisted the urge to karate chop him in his ridiculously protruding Adam’s Apple or to knock his ugly head off his idiotically long neck and behaved with dignity and decorum for once in my life. But inside I was a weeping, wailing mess. I wanted to lay on the floor in the foetal position and have someone stroke my hair. But I smiled and carried on because that’s what you do isn’t it. You get punched in the stomach and for good measure someone grabs your heart and has a kick about with it but you carry on…..don’t you?

A retrospective to bore you rigid!

As I am confined to my sickbed (sad face) with a bout of pleurisy that has wrecked my Christmas, I thought it would be nice to have a look back at my year….indulge me, I’m bedridden here!

January-March: These months were mostly taken up with my annual traipse to a slimming club. Sxxxxxing Wxxxd was the club of choice this year. I found the format and the leader to be toe-curlingly hideous – sitting in a circle applauding someone for losing half a pound or commiserating (and applauding, strangely) a poor sinner who had succumbed to a roast potato was definitely not for me. I did, however, find solace every week listening to people’s hilarious attempts to make faux fast food -ie: pizza and KFC – using dried potato granules! Yep, Smash is king in the land of the slimmer, and you really haven’t lived until you’ve tried a pizza with a Smash base – and it is every bit as vomit inducing as it sounds!! I did lose a stone though…but the pizza/smash combo had nothing to do with it!

Work was going well, I’d settled into my new job and even though I only started in October I felt a part of the team and absolutely loved it. I was working in a school, my dream job with hours to die for. I couldn’t have asked for anything more on the job front.

Home life rumbled along, as it does…Child continually testing my patience as the testosterone worked it’s magic – seeing the smug grin on my mum’s face as she sees payback in all it’s glory is slightly disconcerting! Although it’s not all bad, sometimes his real persona makes its way through the swamp of puberty and he is a joy to have around, my funny, handsome, kind little man who I love unconditionally despite the testing teenage strops!! He has settled into “big school” now and is doing really well. We are trying to cope with husband being away for 4 weeks and home for 2 but I don’t think we will ever get used to or enjoy it, it’s just something we have to endure and it’s not a natural state of affairs – I defy anyone to enjoy having their parter away for such a stretch or indeed enjoy having them home 24/7 for a fortnight!

We booked our summer holiday in January, 2 weeks in July ( I couldn’t go in term time with my new job) to Riviera Maya, Mexico, of course, we tried to resist the pull but just couldn’t do it! We even decided to go back to the same hotel because we enjoyed it so much last year, I was a little wary of doing this but lost out to the majority – we are a very democratic family! At least the thought of the beautiful beaches and warm Caribbean Sea helped to make winter a little more bearable for SAD old me!

More to follow, I’m ill y’know…..

STFU Jamie Oliver

Now I’ve never been a fan of Jamie Oliver. All that cheeky “Cockernee” malarkey never won me over, I always saw him as a posh Home Counties boy playing at being “Street”.

But my dislike is rapidly turning into something stronger now with the nonsense he’s spouting at the moment in order to appear controversial/promote his latest TV programme and book.

The multi-millionaire says he “finds it hard to talk about modern day food poverty”. Well, I find it hard to talk about Quantam Physics – because I know absolutely bugger all about it!! So, rather than make myself look a complete idiot, I keep my trap shut.

Instead of bleating on about how a Sicilian street cleaner can make Ambrosia from a bag of horse shit “etc, why not do something constructive and donate some of your vast fortune to the alarming number of food banks opening up in the UK? Or pledge that you will donate all of the unused food from your restaurants to a homeless shelter?

Ive just checked a supermarket site and I can get the required items of Mr Oliver’s street cleaning friend for £5.30 (mussels, cherry tomatoes, spaghetti) but I’m damned sure that if I were in food poverty I’d want more than 3 ingredients for a fiver, I’d want as much filling, cheap food as I could fit in my basket to feed my family and I wouldn’t give two hoots about it being organic or sustainable as long as my kids didn’t go hungry.

And I don’t know about you but those three ingredients on their own would resemble a bland mush if I attempted to cobble together a meal from them – I’d sooner buy a Pukka Pie!!

Oh, and I do know what I’m talking about here. When I was in my late teens/early twenties I lived in a flat on a very low wage, every single penny I had needed to be stretched as much as possible. I remember taking the stalks off mushroom before I put them to be weighed and I ate so much ox liver I can’t even look at the stuff anymore without feeling murderous!

There are plenty of people far more qualified to speak about this subject such as the inspirational Jack Monroe – author of the frankly amazing website http://agirlcalledjack.com/. She can talk the talk because she has lived it, her website was born out of the desperation of a mother trying to feed her child, not because she had some new tat to promote or because she wanted to get her name in the papers.

I know which one I’d rather listen to – and it’s not that presumptuous Cockernee twat…

Lost in Translation

Morning All!

Hope you all had a fabulous weekend and are full of beans for the week ahead!

Monday morning blues?

Oh diddums, fear not though because Beebee is here to save the day!

Here are some photos I took in the main restaurant on our recent holiday which made me chuckle:

This should actually say Hunter’s Pork!

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These mushrooms were sautéed not attacked!

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I think he looks quite good for his age!!

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Hmmm, won’t bother thanks!

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I also came across “Bad Garlic” and “Chicken in Your Sauce”!

I think the translator suffered from Google syndrome!!

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