THE BRITISH THREAD II

I made a vegetable soup. I put green lentils in this one. It's lovely. I'm going to have some now, with buttered sliced wholemeal bread.

well at least you can keep warm with soup McTag

is it any good for plugging holes?



nice bit of understatement that

Sounds yummy, Muckty.

I'm thinking of making a Christmas cake this weekend, using the 'boiled' method from a WW2 recipe that me sister gave me.

Thanks for the tongue, DaddyP, I enjoyed it.

My sister sent me en email informing me that there is a special mass and reunion celebrating 40 years of my old convent. I'm an a real quandary as to whether to go or not. Been thinking about it all day...

What would be my motive for going? Curiosity? To sneer at the Nuns? To say thanks for nothing? Or to confirm that they said I'd never amount to much (I haven't). It's made me feel 'funny'. Or maybe I should glam up, wear a feather boa and genuflect, in a low-cut blouse, and give the assembled congregation an eyeful?

I'm in a real quandary...

x

A spokesman for the tour company operating the MV Explorer said



i.e. the ship has never previously sunk.

From that it would seem that you'd not really be entering into the intended spirit of the wossname, and so I would say you shouldn't go.

Or maybe you want to see your classmates, and to hell with the nonnies. So in that case, I would say you should go.

If there's a mass, than I wouldn't go, because I'm a protestant atheist who didn't attend the convent anyway.

But it's your choice.

I hope that's of some assistance.

I think you look well dodgy if that's any consolation.

That was my opinion but I didn't like to say so.

I turned my computer on for this? Brickbats?

Although "well dodgy" is the nicest thing anyone has said about me today.

Floats- ever seen a carnival float? Well I'm told the term originates with the Lord Mayor's Parade in London, which used to take place on the river, on barges. Hence "float".

Makes sense now, doesn't it. Clair Balding said that, and I believe her.

I've been told that Clare plays a musical instrument but I don't know if it's true or not. And I don't mean Willie Carson.

From Wikipedia

"She also has close family links to horse racing: her father, Ian Balding, trained Mill Reef, 1971 winner of the Epsom Derby, Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe and King George VI & Queen Elizabeth Diamond Stakes, and her brother, Andrew Balding, trained the winner of the 2003 Epsom Oaks. The latter win led to a very emotional post-race interview with her brother. Furthermore, her grandfather was the trainer Peter Hastings-Bass and her maternal uncle the 17th Earl of Huntingdon former trainer of Queen Elizabeth II. Her maternal grandmother Priscilla is descended from the Earls of Derby.

In September 2006, she formalised her civil partnership with the BBC Radio 4 continuity announcer and newsreader Alice Arnold."

She certainly knows her fillies.

I'm sure she meant it as a term of endearment.

More of my doings:

Having a **** day...

Well it started last night. Had a power cut at around 7.45 which lasted 'till 10.05. There were 64 houses affected due to 'a problem with an underground gable' said Powergen. My granddaughter was staying the night. She found it all very exiting, and the packet of white domestic candles I've had in the cupboard 'for emergencies' finally came into their own. Told her all about the power cuts in the 70's. Then quizzed her about capital cities, Egypt, and the Romans. Then read her some Famous Five. Although she was quite miffed at missing Ugly Betty. We had the gas fire so we were warm enough, made a brew with a pan of water, but we were dreadfully bored by 9.30.

Then the lights came on to much blinking and cheering (heard the neighbours cheering too). I was amazed at how bright the house was with the marvel of electricity. No wonder the peoples of yore had a mid-winter festival - it's VERY dark, and VERY quiet without lecky. The dark makes you talk in hushed tones...

Any road up. Went to the launderette to wash a throw in the 'big machine'. It was pissing it down, as soon as I got out of the car, I dropped the throw - right in a big puddle! Dragged it into the launderette and put it on a hot wash. Felt the glass for some domestic assurance, and it was stone cold!

Approached the mealy-mouthed, dour, wrinkled harridan that runs the place, she stands behind a formica counter at the back, scaring people.

me: excuse me? I've put my throw on a hot wash and the waters cold.

The harridan opens the hatch with an audible tut, comes over and places her hand on the glass door of my machine.

harridan: It's toughened glass, for safety, you wouldn't be able to feel the temperature. Look how thick it is. (she opens the door of the empty machine next to it, and demonstrates the thickness of the glass by 'wafting' the door to and frow).

me: Well, why are YOU feeling the glass then?

harridan: Do you want your money back? (she said this whilst giving me a PROPER MASSIVE evil).

me: Well, I just thought it would feel warm if it was supposed to be on a hot wash? (holding my domestic ground, as a woman with many years washing experience under her belt, but not wanting to aggravate her any further as I imagined the headlines: 'woman bludgeoned to death with a bottle of Lenor -Summer Breeze - in a launderette'.

She stormed to counter, stormed back, and slammed some pound coins on the top of my machine, stormed back and sat down.

I could see her furiously texting on a mobile, whilst I loitered at the back of the dryers willing my machine to go through it's cycle, so I could get the eff out of there.

I was glad it took so long really, gave me time to get my mad right up! I was thinking: she's gonna think I'm too scared to use the wringer and dryer, she thinks I'm going to scurry out of here with a soaking throw, she thinks I'm stupid, she thinks she's got one over on me with all that 'toughened glass' malarky, she's a nasty bitch and she doesn't know who she's dealing with...

Needless to say, I used the wringer AND the dryer, and I even managed to feign nonchalance and hum whilst folding the throw. Left the lauderette and stuck two fingers up at her as I drove past. I was too scared to do it on the way out - in case she chased me! I don't know if she saw, I hope she did. Was much peeved when I got home to find I'd left me Lenor.

And how's your day going?

x

Let 'em have it, Smorgie. The customer is always right. You pay for the service, and you expect it to be right. Americans or Germans, for example, don't put up with bad service...or even bad attitudes. We are too meek and mild by far.

(Mind you, I think that German ticket inspector was a bit surprised by my lack of appreciation of his efforts in enhancing my travelling pleasure.....)

But I WOULD be able to feel at least a slight warmth to the glass, wouldn't I?

It wasn't an Apollo spacecraft! It was a sodding washine machine! The glass wasn't THAT thick that I couldn't tell it was on a hot wash!

Still makes me fume when I think about it.

x

no, spume.

Sorry about your bad day at the wash. (Never heard the term 'throw' before. presume its a collective noun for dirty washing?)

Relax Smorgie, I'll send you a bottle of champagne its our wedding anniversary.

And tomorrow its your favourite programme on telly. er period costume, mrs doubtfire or similiar or mayor of casterbridge or something by jane eyre any way you know the one and ENJOY IT forget the stupid bloody woman at the wash emporium. Liked the bit about clubbing her to death with a bottle of Lenor, thats class.

(I've had an even more worse terribblier day that youse, Bolton 1 Utd 0)

Yes, the glass should have been warm or hot.

(Is another clue the temperature of the damp washing when you take it out?)

Shame about United, but half at least of Manchester can rejoice again. :wink:

Aw, Happy Aniversary, stevie...

to you and the lucky Mrs stevie.

BTW, a 'throw' is an essential item in soft furnishing. Ask Mrs stevie.

The last rinse is always cold, Muckty, old bean. Ask Mrs Muckty.

Men!

Know your place!

x

Carnford tomorrow!

Yippeee!

Only just got over the last one. Washed me bloomers today.

Fare thee well, kind fellows. It would be unseemly to remain in the company of gentlemen after supper. And me a single laydee! I shall retire to the privacy of my room, eat me orange, and watch a bit of telly.

(just practicing)

x

Well I might go up to the music pub tonight and hear the Backwater Blues band.

I can record MoTD and see it later. I may want to watch repeats of Stephen Ireland's goal.

Carnford...that was it. You are a funny girlee missus. Bloomers...indeed.

Anyhoo its nearly ten of the clock and me away early in the morn, to Chelmsford a peddle. (With back up crew, a bit like Ewan McGreggor, but not as far). So fare ye well and suck thee thy orange.