It has been a very busy few weeks, and I have not had much free time. However, today (well, yesterday now) was Christmas and the stress should be over soon. Louise and I will be preparing dinner for the family (13) tomorrow evening, and then I may not have all that much to do before returning to work on 5th January. What will I do with myself? Tidy the house, then prepare nice drinks and read interesting books? Make things out of wood? Sleep? Watch TV while lying on the sofa with HWSNBN lying behind me? Nothing? Climbing? The possibilities are endless.*
Tomorrow I must get up, prepare casseroles, then go shopping. I am not entirely sure from whence this shopping expectation came, nor am I convinced that Liverpool will be a good place to go at lunchtime on Boxing day (why are the shops even open? Shouldn't people who work in shops get a well-deserved second day off?), nor are there many things that I need, but I am sure that it will be a rewarding experience. Anne is coming with us; she doesn't need anything, either. Blogging about this is making me feel very sheep-like (for good reason). Ooh - I have come up with an advantage! Exercise! It will, at the very least, be a medium-length walk which I would not otherwise have had (I do not go for walks voluntarily, due to a series of unpleasant walking experiences, combined with not liking it that much anyway).
I am rambling and should go to bed. I hope that you have had a good Christmas!
*Actually, that is almost undoubtedly not true; I expect that the possibilities are somewhat finite.
Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Friday, 26 December 2008
Monday, 27 October 2008
Many uninteresting things
Yesterday was a very tired day. I think that the high drama of the weekend, combined with failing to sleep for an extra hour despite the clock change, had taken its toll on me, insofar as it was difficult for me to get the motivation to pick up some bags and leave church after finishing some organ practice. Which was rather rubbish practice. However, I have established that I may be able to play the fancy version of "O Come all ye Faithful" in time for Christmas. This is very exciting - it's one of the pieces I have always wanted to play. Obviously it would be better on a more powerful organ (the organ I might actually have to play it on makes mine look like a monster: Frankenstein's monster), but the notes are the same whatever one plays it on. Perhaps next year I shall have access to larger and more impressive organs...
On returning from church (via the supermarket, in which I was to buy margarine and tea bags, of which I managed to remember margarine), I huddled under a duvet in the front room and shivered until the heating came on. I then read for a few minutes, then went to sleep accidentally while HWSNBN cut up mushrooms and onions for the mushroom risotto. This meant that I didn't have to wash mushrooms or peel an onion, both of which are annoying jobs. It also meant that I got five minutes of sleep.
After dinner, I made soap. Alas, today it looks a little weird. I shall leave it for a few days to see how it behaves, but I suspect that I shall be making a replacement batch on Thursday. Fortunately, I only used half of the fragrance, so it won't be too much of a problem. I think that maybe I should have stirred it more.
So, as you can see, my day was fascinating and stimulating. I just know that you are wishing I posted this sooner so that you wouldn't have to wait so long for your almost-daily dose of excitement. What does one do when one's life is so exciting? How does one de-stress? Skydiving? Now there's a thought.*
Time for a shower. Then to bed, then to work. Repeat ad infinitum.
*Not a very good one, though.
On returning from church (via the supermarket, in which I was to buy margarine and tea bags, of which I managed to remember margarine), I huddled under a duvet in the front room and shivered until the heating came on. I then read for a few minutes, then went to sleep accidentally while HWSNBN cut up mushrooms and onions for the mushroom risotto. This meant that I didn't have to wash mushrooms or peel an onion, both of which are annoying jobs. It also meant that I got five minutes of sleep.
After dinner, I made soap. Alas, today it looks a little weird. I shall leave it for a few days to see how it behaves, but I suspect that I shall be making a replacement batch on Thursday. Fortunately, I only used half of the fragrance, so it won't be too much of a problem. I think that maybe I should have stirred it more.
So, as you can see, my day was fascinating and stimulating. I just know that you are wishing I posted this sooner so that you wouldn't have to wait so long for your almost-daily dose of excitement. What does one do when one's life is so exciting? How does one de-stress? Skydiving? Now there's a thought.*
Time for a shower. Then to bed, then to work. Repeat ad infinitum.
*Not a very good one, though.
Monday, 20 October 2008
It is written! And sent off!
Thank goodness for that. Now I wait.
This weekend has been one of ups and downs. HWSNBN escaped to Foreign Parts again, in order that he might be lonely in a hotel room and do Technical Things to foreign computers. He appears to be approximately as happy with this as I would expect him to be, although I cannot rule out a degree of measurement error, insofar as expecting him to have a level of happiness may make me more likely to believe that he is that happy.
I had planned to buy birthday presents for Anne on Saturday, but had to cut my shopping trip short because I wasn't feeling well. Every time I tensed my abdominal muscles (which happens more often than I realised) it hurt. Walking fast uses abdominal muscles, so I slouched around for a while, trying to find the umbrella shop (defunct) or a pretty umbrella (was unsuccessful), before being escorted back to the car by Serena. I then went to sleep on the back seat while she went shopping. I must say, the Jazz is far more comfortable for this type of activity than the Seicento (my previous car) would have been. In fact, should I find myself homeless at any point, let's just say that there are worse cars I could have (i.e. most other cars which are not camper vans).
After my sleep I felt far more human, and we returned to Serena's house for dinner. After dinner, much to my surprise, I felt well enough to go to a party to which we had been invited.
I had not exactly been looking forward to this party; I was a little worried that it would be awkward, and that there would be no crisps that I could eat. Having already eaten dinner, the latter was not likely to be too much of a problem, but the former could make it a waste of an evening. However, I had promised to bring some fire lighting supplies for the back yard, and thought that I should at least make the effort.
Upon arrival, we made our way to the back yard, to be presented with a choice of a barbecue or a dustbin as a vessel for the fire. I expressed my doubts as to the suitability of the dustbin for lighting fires, as I was worried a fire was likely to suffocate itself without holes in the side, but I was overruled. I lined the dustbin with cardboard, put kindling (kindly donated by my next door neighbour) on top, then poured a small bottle of old cooking oil and salad dressing (with a little old garlic and vinegar - for that lovely sharp flavour, rather than because I failed to decant accurately, of course) over the lot, before putting some of the damp branches which made up the majority of the fuel over the top so that they would dry out then hopefully catch light. This was finished off with some alcohol offered to my by one of the hosts.
My first attempt at lighting it did not go well, and extinguished itself after a short while. The second time I tried, I must have approached it from a more advantageous angle, because a small inferno quickly ensued. I get the impression that I started a chip pan fire in this dustbin, and can heartily recommend this method to future pyromaniacs. We could hear the water in the damp wood boiling off, and it all dried out a treat, and burned as though it was created for such an event.
When this had been achieved, I went and got a drink, and was delighted to note that one of the hosts had made gluten-free pizza and brownies. Naturally, I couldn't let this go to waste, and forced some down, despite already having eaten.*
Alas, the evening was over** all too soon. I did not sleep well; I woke up two hours earlier than necessary, which did not please me.
Funnily enough, I was a little tired on Sunday. Church went well from the point of view of everyone who did not particularly want to use a data projector. Alas, I had promised to visit the Parents and Anne for a few hours in the evening, for Anne's birthday celebration. This entails three hours of driving (1 1/2 hours in each direction); not a good idea when overtired and feeling slightly ill. I also needed to go shopping in Liverpool on the way, in order to pick up some actual presents for Anne.
The journey was good, as was Liverpool. It really has improved of late; there are a couple of new, rather upmarket, malls*** containing many wonderful shops. I was able to buy a mug, some socks and an umbrella for Anne, to go with her Death Kitty hoodie. When I gave these to her, she seemed to appreciate the lot of them. It makes me a little sad to be writing this on the Internet, but my twelve-year-old sister is a freak who likes socks and household items, and deems them to be suitable, even exciting, birthday presents. I dread to think what she will appreciate when she is forty. I also hope that her friends do not pick up on this to the extent that she gets a lovely set of designer jars for her 21st birthday from them. Not that I would know about that. Anyway, I have never been particularly interested in socks.
Unfortunately, my parents decided that I was not well enough to drive myself home that evening, and there was nobody else who was going to do it. Fortunately, Louise is still away at University, so I got her bed. I lay across it diagonally, which is my favourite sleeping position, and was most disappointed to be awoken by the alarm clock. I made my way downstairs, said happy birthday to Anne (who was just preparing to go to Alton Towers for the day, with Robert), and had breakfast. Nana then came into the kitchen, so I chatted to her for a little bit. She pretends to understand more than she actually understands (I think it's partly a hearing issue, combined with not wanting to make people repeat things), and is getting more forgetful and vague, but it was great to see her.
Then I went to work, and stayed particularly late. Then I failed do some organ practice. Next, Postgrad group, then home, perhaps washing up, washing and bed.
Still not feeling right, but at least the headache's gone.
Happy birthday, Anne!
*Yes, forced. I am not a greedy, hungry person who can eat dinner and still have room for the same again. Honest. Stop looking at me like that!
**i.e. I was told it was time to return home
***What are these in English, rather than American? I feel a little stupid now.
This weekend has been one of ups and downs. HWSNBN escaped to Foreign Parts again, in order that he might be lonely in a hotel room and do Technical Things to foreign computers. He appears to be approximately as happy with this as I would expect him to be, although I cannot rule out a degree of measurement error, insofar as expecting him to have a level of happiness may make me more likely to believe that he is that happy.
I had planned to buy birthday presents for Anne on Saturday, but had to cut my shopping trip short because I wasn't feeling well. Every time I tensed my abdominal muscles (which happens more often than I realised) it hurt. Walking fast uses abdominal muscles, so I slouched around for a while, trying to find the umbrella shop (defunct) or a pretty umbrella (was unsuccessful), before being escorted back to the car by Serena. I then went to sleep on the back seat while she went shopping. I must say, the Jazz is far more comfortable for this type of activity than the Seicento (my previous car) would have been. In fact, should I find myself homeless at any point, let's just say that there are worse cars I could have (i.e. most other cars which are not camper vans).
After my sleep I felt far more human, and we returned to Serena's house for dinner. After dinner, much to my surprise, I felt well enough to go to a party to which we had been invited.
I had not exactly been looking forward to this party; I was a little worried that it would be awkward, and that there would be no crisps that I could eat. Having already eaten dinner, the latter was not likely to be too much of a problem, but the former could make it a waste of an evening. However, I had promised to bring some fire lighting supplies for the back yard, and thought that I should at least make the effort.
Upon arrival, we made our way to the back yard, to be presented with a choice of a barbecue or a dustbin as a vessel for the fire. I expressed my doubts as to the suitability of the dustbin for lighting fires, as I was worried a fire was likely to suffocate itself without holes in the side, but I was overruled. I lined the dustbin with cardboard, put kindling (kindly donated by my next door neighbour) on top, then poured a small bottle of old cooking oil and salad dressing (with a little old garlic and vinegar - for that lovely sharp flavour, rather than because I failed to decant accurately, of course) over the lot, before putting some of the damp branches which made up the majority of the fuel over the top so that they would dry out then hopefully catch light. This was finished off with some alcohol offered to my by one of the hosts.
My first attempt at lighting it did not go well, and extinguished itself after a short while. The second time I tried, I must have approached it from a more advantageous angle, because a small inferno quickly ensued. I get the impression that I started a chip pan fire in this dustbin, and can heartily recommend this method to future pyromaniacs. We could hear the water in the damp wood boiling off, and it all dried out a treat, and burned as though it was created for such an event.
When this had been achieved, I went and got a drink, and was delighted to note that one of the hosts had made gluten-free pizza and brownies. Naturally, I couldn't let this go to waste, and forced some down, despite already having eaten.*
Alas, the evening was over** all too soon. I did not sleep well; I woke up two hours earlier than necessary, which did not please me.
Funnily enough, I was a little tired on Sunday. Church went well from the point of view of everyone who did not particularly want to use a data projector. Alas, I had promised to visit the Parents and Anne for a few hours in the evening, for Anne's birthday celebration. This entails three hours of driving (1 1/2 hours in each direction); not a good idea when overtired and feeling slightly ill. I also needed to go shopping in Liverpool on the way, in order to pick up some actual presents for Anne.
The journey was good, as was Liverpool. It really has improved of late; there are a couple of new, rather upmarket, malls*** containing many wonderful shops. I was able to buy a mug, some socks and an umbrella for Anne, to go with her Death Kitty hoodie. When I gave these to her, she seemed to appreciate the lot of them. It makes me a little sad to be writing this on the Internet, but my twelve-year-old sister is a freak who likes socks and household items, and deems them to be suitable, even exciting, birthday presents. I dread to think what she will appreciate when she is forty. I also hope that her friends do not pick up on this to the extent that she gets a lovely set of designer jars for her 21st birthday from them. Not that I would know about that. Anyway, I have never been particularly interested in socks.
Unfortunately, my parents decided that I was not well enough to drive myself home that evening, and there was nobody else who was going to do it. Fortunately, Louise is still away at University, so I got her bed. I lay across it diagonally, which is my favourite sleeping position, and was most disappointed to be awoken by the alarm clock. I made my way downstairs, said happy birthday to Anne (who was just preparing to go to Alton Towers for the day, with Robert), and had breakfast. Nana then came into the kitchen, so I chatted to her for a little bit. She pretends to understand more than she actually understands (I think it's partly a hearing issue, combined with not wanting to make people repeat things), and is getting more forgetful and vague, but it was great to see her.
Then I went to work, and stayed particularly late. Then I failed do some organ practice. Next, Postgrad group, then home, perhaps washing up, washing and bed.
Still not feeling right, but at least the headache's gone.
Happy birthday, Anne!
*Yes, forced. I am not a greedy, hungry person who can eat dinner and still have room for the same again. Honest. Stop looking at me like that!
**i.e. I was told it was time to return home
***What are these in English, rather than American? I feel a little stupid now.
Sunday, 14 September 2008
Stuck
I'm cooking dinner for HWSNBN and his mother this evening. Unfortunately, due to an excess of crapness on my part, the roast pork will not be ready until 8pm at the earliest. HWSNBN's mum does not like to eat after about 6.30. Once again, I have messed up and I feel bad.
I also managed to be too late for the vegetable shop - I thought it closed at 6, but it turns out it closes at 5 on a Sunday. As a result, I can only offer one carrot and half a swede in the orange vegetables section. I have no apples to make sauce. I have frozen peas, and purple beans from the vegetable patch, and purple potatoes (peeled - you can't really tell they were purple now), so I can fake a roast dinner - it's just that the timing is so very wrong.
I've just opened the oven and the pork looks amazing. It's just had its 30 minutes at 230C, and I had to let the heat out to take it to 160C, where it will stay for 90 minutes. It's quite a large bit of pork. I bought it because it was on offer, and put it straight into the freezer. Alas, I roasted a joint which had been in there for a few months recently, and it was not good. I don't know what happened to it (maybe the freezer turned itself off...), but it led me to the conclusion that I must defrost and roast all of the meat over a certain age in there (that age is anything I put in before yesterday). So now I am working on that. I do hope food poisoning is not the result. None of this meat will be served at all rare!
The reason I waited until so late to start cooking is that I am not having a happy day. Church did not go well - I am too easily irritated at the moment. Just as I was about to start playing this morning, the guitar started.* In a way, this is great - it means that I do less work but still get the same amount of money. I find that hard to argue with! However, I would have appreciated the chance to run through the hymns beforehand. It would also have been good to have been forewarned that the organ sounds like it is dying before the introduction to the first hymn. Poor darling - it is not at all a well little organ, and it needs tuning again.
The next badness came during the second hymn. The person who was singing most loudly was not singing the same rhythm as I was trying to play. I suspect that she was right,** but that didn't really help me. As I was distracted, I played lots of wrong notes. I am such a crap organist.
To make matters worse, she who plays the guitar is really good. I would feel a lot better about this if I wasn't being shown to be the lesser musician. I would not be shown to be the lesser musician if I did enough practice - if I worked at this, I would be good. Therefore it is all my fault in the end. Grr.
Finally, I got lots of notes wrong in the voluntary. I think that I had given up by then.
After church I went shopping and bought, among other things, some wine making kit. We are hoping to make elderberry and blackberry wine from those we find growing around the edge of The Field. I am looking forward to that.
As I was returning to the car, Heather called me. She sort of invited me round to hers for a cup of tea.*** When I arrived, she fed me and gave me wine instead. We both moaned about our respective lack of movement - her with a project she cannot move forward with until next year, me with projects which have not worked out - now I have to come up with new plans. After feeding me, she gave me tea and I felt better. Not completely better, but I think I shall have to make a lot of changes before I feel completely better.
She also helped me a little with a letter I am writing at the moment. Should this letter achieve its desired aim, my life will be thrown into utter turmoil for a bit. Should this happen, I shall record the results in this blog. It will be very exciting, but is rather daunting.
Sorry about skirting round this. There are some things one shouldn't share with the Internet, but the unbloggable crapness which is consuming my being at the moment says that it deserves a passing mention.
Update: Dinner tasted fine - I am reasonably confident nobody has been poisoned...
*OK, so it wasn't that the guitar started; it was that somebody started playing it. Somebody was supposed to be playing it. I feel incredibly petty.
**Well, officially I suspect that she was right. Between you and me, I was not convinced, even though, deep down, I trust her knowledge of the song more than mine. Deep breaths....... And, relax.
***She suggested we should meet in town for a coffee - I invited myself round to hers.
I also managed to be too late for the vegetable shop - I thought it closed at 6, but it turns out it closes at 5 on a Sunday. As a result, I can only offer one carrot and half a swede in the orange vegetables section. I have no apples to make sauce. I have frozen peas, and purple beans from the vegetable patch, and purple potatoes (peeled - you can't really tell they were purple now), so I can fake a roast dinner - it's just that the timing is so very wrong.
I've just opened the oven and the pork looks amazing. It's just had its 30 minutes at 230C, and I had to let the heat out to take it to 160C, where it will stay for 90 minutes. It's quite a large bit of pork. I bought it because it was on offer, and put it straight into the freezer. Alas, I roasted a joint which had been in there for a few months recently, and it was not good. I don't know what happened to it (maybe the freezer turned itself off...), but it led me to the conclusion that I must defrost and roast all of the meat over a certain age in there (that age is anything I put in before yesterday). So now I am working on that. I do hope food poisoning is not the result. None of this meat will be served at all rare!
The reason I waited until so late to start cooking is that I am not having a happy day. Church did not go well - I am too easily irritated at the moment. Just as I was about to start playing this morning, the guitar started.* In a way, this is great - it means that I do less work but still get the same amount of money. I find that hard to argue with! However, I would have appreciated the chance to run through the hymns beforehand. It would also have been good to have been forewarned that the organ sounds like it is dying before the introduction to the first hymn. Poor darling - it is not at all a well little organ, and it needs tuning again.
The next badness came during the second hymn. The person who was singing most loudly was not singing the same rhythm as I was trying to play. I suspect that she was right,** but that didn't really help me. As I was distracted, I played lots of wrong notes. I am such a crap organist.
To make matters worse, she who plays the guitar is really good. I would feel a lot better about this if I wasn't being shown to be the lesser musician. I would not be shown to be the lesser musician if I did enough practice - if I worked at this, I would be good. Therefore it is all my fault in the end. Grr.
Finally, I got lots of notes wrong in the voluntary. I think that I had given up by then.
After church I went shopping and bought, among other things, some wine making kit. We are hoping to make elderberry and blackberry wine from those we find growing around the edge of The Field. I am looking forward to that.
As I was returning to the car, Heather called me. She sort of invited me round to hers for a cup of tea.*** When I arrived, she fed me and gave me wine instead. We both moaned about our respective lack of movement - her with a project she cannot move forward with until next year, me with projects which have not worked out - now I have to come up with new plans. After feeding me, she gave me tea and I felt better. Not completely better, but I think I shall have to make a lot of changes before I feel completely better.
She also helped me a little with a letter I am writing at the moment. Should this letter achieve its desired aim, my life will be thrown into utter turmoil for a bit. Should this happen, I shall record the results in this blog. It will be very exciting, but is rather daunting.
Sorry about skirting round this. There are some things one shouldn't share with the Internet, but the unbloggable crapness which is consuming my being at the moment says that it deserves a passing mention.
Update: Dinner tasted fine - I am reasonably confident nobody has been poisoned...
*OK, so it wasn't that the guitar started; it was that somebody started playing it. Somebody was supposed to be playing it. I feel incredibly petty.
**Well, officially I suspect that she was right. Between you and me, I was not convinced, even though, deep down, I trust her knowledge of the song more than mine. Deep breaths....... And, relax.
***She suggested we should meet in town for a coffee - I invited myself round to hers.
Sunday, 17 August 2008
More shopping and a small reunion
I managed to forget one of my hymn books this morning - I ended up having to play 'Be Thou my Vision' in the wrong key (i.e. not the one I learned yesterday). That was rather annoying. The organ also decided to lose some notes during the communion music. Fortunately I was prepared, and simply switched to the other manual.
This afternoon we went shopping in Liverpool, and bought more clothes for He Who Shall Not Be Named. It was much more productive than yesterday - he tried clothes on without complaint, and emerged with a whole new wardrobe of summer-type clothes. I bought a pair of socks. It's amazing how much self-control I can display when there is no time for me to look at clothes (being a shopping companion does not allow for this, apparently. My opinion is required). I also bought a cotton bag from the new Debenham's, insofar as I passed it to HWSNBN with a hopeful expression on my face and he paid for it.
After this, we went round to the house of a school friend and her husband for tea; we were meeting another school friend there. As two of us live in different counties and the other lives in a different country, we don't get the chance to meet up very often. We actually managed to arrive 50 minutes early, which is unusual for me to say the least. We admired the jungle they keep in their back yard, and picked the pods of their sweet peas to try to convince them to flower once more.
Dinner was a variety of Indian dishes, followed by home-made blackberry ice cream. Very yummy! I must get my ice cream maker working again and make some myself. I love that it is so cheap - the blackberries themselves are free.
We returned home at 11.00, and are now preparing for yet another week of work. At least next Monday will be a Bank Holiday...
This afternoon we went shopping in Liverpool, and bought more clothes for He Who Shall Not Be Named. It was much more productive than yesterday - he tried clothes on without complaint, and emerged with a whole new wardrobe of summer-type clothes. I bought a pair of socks. It's amazing how much self-control I can display when there is no time for me to look at clothes (being a shopping companion does not allow for this, apparently. My opinion is required). I also bought a cotton bag from the new Debenham's, insofar as I passed it to HWSNBN with a hopeful expression on my face and he paid for it.
After this, we went round to the house of a school friend and her husband for tea; we were meeting another school friend there. As two of us live in different counties and the other lives in a different country, we don't get the chance to meet up very often. We actually managed to arrive 50 minutes early, which is unusual for me to say the least. We admired the jungle they keep in their back yard, and picked the pods of their sweet peas to try to convince them to flower once more.
Dinner was a variety of Indian dishes, followed by home-made blackberry ice cream. Very yummy! I must get my ice cream maker working again and make some myself. I love that it is so cheap - the blackberries themselves are free.
We returned home at 11.00, and are now preparing for yet another week of work. At least next Monday will be a Bank Holiday...
Saturday, 16 August 2008
Next post
As I am running short of interesting things to say, I shall proceed to post rubbish until some inspiration hits me. This, therefore, is the bit where I say that my writing and choice of subject matter are no good, so that if anyone criticises either of them I can say that I already noticed, and thus not accept any of the blame. See how cunning and anticipatory I am.
Today has been rather a lazy day. In an ideal world, I would always sleep for the first half of Saturday, and today I was very nearly able to do that, only being woken shortly before 11. I then proceeded to take until 3.45 to get up, have a shower, read the really important blogs, make lunch and get out of the house to go shopping.
Shopping was not as good as I had hoped. He Who Shall Not Be Named (yes, my boyfriend is he) decided that, although we were going clothes shopping for him, he would not deign to try on any t-shirts. I am of the opinion that this is a fundamental part of clothes shopping, and concluded from this that our trip was not likely to be successful. He is of the opinion that, apart from that unfortunate incident with the too-tight designer t-shirt (which was my fault, because I pointed it out), all shirts nominally in the appropriate size fit him, so trying them on is not necessary. Also, that his girlfriend should stop being so grumpy.
Toiletry shopping was conducted amidst many frowns. Three shops later normal clothes shopping behaviour was resumed, with HWSNBN trying on two t-shirts, one of which was very nice. Alas, neither was deemed suitable. However, we returned to the first shop and four tops were tried on. Three of them did not fit, and he bought the other one. I felt vindicated.
We then returned home with triumph in our hearts. I proceeded to decide that we did not have anything suitable for me to eat, while he suggested all sorts of carbohydrates. Eventually, I threw together some 'soup' (puree?) made from roasted sweet potatoes, onions, garlic, curry paste, coconut and chick peas. HWSNBN appeared to appreciate this, and finished it off with crisps. Success! Given that he's a crazy, vegetable-liking person, I am trying not to read too much into this. I would have preferred it too runny to hold the spoon upright.
Alas, due to the rain we were unable to go to The Field to cut grass (him), plant quinoa (yes, it's far too late for that. I am bad) and mint, and pick copious amounts of peas. Now I must learn the hymns for tomorrow morning. Apparently, that can be a good tactic.
Today has been rather a lazy day. In an ideal world, I would always sleep for the first half of Saturday, and today I was very nearly able to do that, only being woken shortly before 11. I then proceeded to take until 3.45 to get up, have a shower, read the really important blogs, make lunch and get out of the house to go shopping.
Shopping was not as good as I had hoped. He Who Shall Not Be Named (yes, my boyfriend is he) decided that, although we were going clothes shopping for him, he would not deign to try on any t-shirts. I am of the opinion that this is a fundamental part of clothes shopping, and concluded from this that our trip was not likely to be successful. He is of the opinion that, apart from that unfortunate incident with the too-tight designer t-shirt (which was my fault, because I pointed it out), all shirts nominally in the appropriate size fit him, so trying them on is not necessary. Also, that his girlfriend should stop being so grumpy.
Toiletry shopping was conducted amidst many frowns. Three shops later normal clothes shopping behaviour was resumed, with HWSNBN trying on two t-shirts, one of which was very nice. Alas, neither was deemed suitable. However, we returned to the first shop and four tops were tried on. Three of them did not fit, and he bought the other one. I felt vindicated.
We then returned home with triumph in our hearts. I proceeded to decide that we did not have anything suitable for me to eat, while he suggested all sorts of carbohydrates. Eventually, I threw together some 'soup' (puree?) made from roasted sweet potatoes, onions, garlic, curry paste, coconut and chick peas. HWSNBN appeared to appreciate this, and finished it off with crisps. Success! Given that he's a crazy, vegetable-liking person, I am trying not to read too much into this. I would have preferred it too runny to hold the spoon upright.
Alas, due to the rain we were unable to go to The Field to cut grass (him), plant quinoa (yes, it's far too late for that. I am bad) and mint, and pick copious amounts of peas. Now I must learn the hymns for tomorrow morning. Apparently, that can be a good tactic.
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