Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Continued
Got on and published the previous posting as I keep getting disconnect flavoured messages when I have a picture in this posting window.
The willow tree of which there has been some talk here is the apple green disc to the right of the carpet heap.
After the postman explained to me that at 0400 this morning he was reduced to walking his bicycle up West Hill because he could get no grip in the powdery snow (which I found surprising: bicycles have a better grip on snow than cars), I spent the second half of the morning thinking that a modest amount of snow (which did look very chocolate box worthy in our back garden first thing) was enough to bring Epsom to a standstill. Queues here there and everywhere until late morning. How would we ever manage if we ever had some real snow and all that sort of thing. But it turned out to be far more banal - another lorry had turned over on a neighbouring part of the M25, resulting in its closure.
Today's soup was the same as yesterday's but even better. Simply replace the vegetable stock cube with some belly pork - say about 6 oz. Dice the pork, try out some fat in a frying pan, add the chopped onion and cook for a bit longer then proceed as before. Although in this case the savoy cabbage was replaced by white cabbage. So it all goes to show that real pig is better than the e-number equivalent.
Reading a chatty book about Brighton which used to belong to a Lord Stowton according to the man in Earlsfield who sold it to me. Written by one Ozzy Sitwell and A N other. As a former civil servant, working in an area overrun with well paid contractors (at least a lot better paid than me), I was interested to learn that the term contractor was vaguely offensive as far back at 1780 when it seems to have been applied to people who made large amounts of money selling possibly dodgy supplies to the government for the army. Plus ca change. It also seems that 1) there were some very stout eaters and drinkers about at that time; and, 2) lots of aristos were horse nuts and thought it was very chic to pretend to be a coachman or a groom, a fashion took up big time by the French, presumably further prompted by the milkmaids at the Trianon.
Enjoyed a film called "Contact". The sort of near science fiction that Americans are good at. That is to say science flavoured and a bit fantastic, but only a bit. No little green men or klingons. Managed to work in a bit of slush, a bit of romance, dirty dealings in academia and dirty dealings in government. Reasonable dollops of suspense. Leading lady good as clever and pretty but fragile scientist. I was particularly impressed with the way that the faith people were looked after.
Followed by a rather more quirky "The emperor's new clothes" with Ian Holmes in the lead. Sagged a bit in the middle but a lot better than the usual fodder in the far reaches of Freeview.
The willow tree of which there has been some talk here is the apple green disc to the right of the carpet heap.
After the postman explained to me that at 0400 this morning he was reduced to walking his bicycle up West Hill because he could get no grip in the powdery snow (which I found surprising: bicycles have a better grip on snow than cars), I spent the second half of the morning thinking that a modest amount of snow (which did look very chocolate box worthy in our back garden first thing) was enough to bring Epsom to a standstill. Queues here there and everywhere until late morning. How would we ever manage if we ever had some real snow and all that sort of thing. But it turned out to be far more banal - another lorry had turned over on a neighbouring part of the M25, resulting in its closure.
Today's soup was the same as yesterday's but even better. Simply replace the vegetable stock cube with some belly pork - say about 6 oz. Dice the pork, try out some fat in a frying pan, add the chopped onion and cook for a bit longer then proceed as before. Although in this case the savoy cabbage was replaced by white cabbage. So it all goes to show that real pig is better than the e-number equivalent.
Reading a chatty book about Brighton which used to belong to a Lord Stowton according to the man in Earlsfield who sold it to me. Written by one Ozzy Sitwell and A N other. As a former civil servant, working in an area overrun with well paid contractors (at least a lot better paid than me), I was interested to learn that the term contractor was vaguely offensive as far back at 1780 when it seems to have been applied to people who made large amounts of money selling possibly dodgy supplies to the government for the army. Plus ca change. It also seems that 1) there were some very stout eaters and drinkers about at that time; and, 2) lots of aristos were horse nuts and thought it was very chic to pretend to be a coachman or a groom, a fashion took up big time by the French, presumably further prompted by the milkmaids at the Trianon.
Enjoyed a film called "Contact". The sort of near science fiction that Americans are good at. That is to say science flavoured and a bit fantastic, but only a bit. No little green men or klingons. Managed to work in a bit of slush, a bit of romance, dirty dealings in academia and dirty dealings in government. Reasonable dollops of suspense. Leading lady good as clever and pretty but fragile scientist. I was particularly impressed with the way that the faith people were looked after.
Followed by a rather more quirky "The emperor's new clothes" with Ian Holmes in the lead. Sagged a bit in the middle but a lot better than the usual fodder in the far reaches of Freeview.
# posted by Jim @ 7:03 AM 
