Oh joy. After several years of comments, reminders, suggestions and telekinetic mind control, I got the Christmas present I always wanted. Santa (sorry I mean the Mrs, for those of you cynics who no longer believe a big hairy man with large red balls tries to get down your chimney every year) delivered. A Magimix.
Okay this is the last post on this particular subject. However I justify it’s presence here on the basis that a) it made me laugh and b) it’s about food and, after all, this is a food blog.
Over here (i.e. anywhere between Ireland and Russia) we recently found out we’ve been eating horses when we thought we were eating cows. And it started in Tesco (the UK’s version of Walmart). And in Tesco you get poor-people’s food and not-so-poor-people’s food – either way we’ve all been eating horse shit)…
Three years ago we got married. In the run up to that event I got myself a rowing machine. I mean I wasn’t going to spend my honeymoon in St. Lucia blubbering about like a beached whale. Sadly I didn’t stick with it. Once the ring was on it was all downhill. The night of the wedding we ended up eating pizza in a pub in Henley on Thames. You get the idea.
Fast forward to 2013. My ‘emergency diet’ did a job in the fourth quarter of 2012 but things aren’t going well now. I mean last night I ate pork belly and breast-of-duck; and a bottle of wine. And then fell asleep. So today I made a decision – out with the old….
Check out the magic bucket
Is the increase in so-called street entertainment a desperate ploy by high street retailers to attract people out of their homes to spend money? Probably not but there some increasingly weird street artists around at the moment. Take this chap, sitting on air:
In this wonderful Isle we aren’t allowed to shop before 11am or after 5pm on Sundays (except in little shops for some wierd reason) – even on the day before Christmas Eve.
The only person I know who still goes to church is my mother, and, given the rapture, armageddon, doomsday (call it what you will) didn’t come to pass two days ago, i doubt whether many people will be swapping a trip to the local supermarket for a session on their knees praising the almighty.
Anyway, obviously today is going to be hell on earth for those foolhardy enough to venture out. Of course there are some who have no choice. Like me. I needed brussel sprouts and I needed the ingredients for Pigs-In-Blankets – two essential Christmas meal items.
I’d been awake since about 3am since our opposite-neighbours introduced us to the concept of 24 hour daylight with their latest festive lighting arrangement (it’s getting more outrageous each year), so by 10am I was getting bored has hell: