| veronikkamarrz
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Does the 'open' back door make you nervous? I think that's how I'd feel...;)
Reply #5281. Dec 19 12, 9:10 PM
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| lesley153
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No, it's rather nice. I used to have loads of bright sun coming in the main window, till next door built an extension. It's made their house much better, and my kitchen dull hours earlier. This just makes up for it.
It's also very solid. I suppose it would be possible to break it down but I think it would be easier and quicker and probably quieter to bash a hole in the brickwork. |
Reply #5282. Dec 20 12, 6:50 PM
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| lesley153
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| Popped out for a couple of hours after lunch and ended up being out for about twelve hours, till 1.30am. Good day but now need to sleep for a week. |
Reply #5283. Dec 21 12, 9:30 PM
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satguru 
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Did you get lost? ;)
Reply #5284. Dec 21 12, 10:29 PM
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| lesley153
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Only a bit lost...
I nipped out after lunch because I wanted to go to the post office and the bank. The town centre is about a mile and half away, and the post office is a mile away, on the road into town. I can do both legs of the journey by bus, or the whole journey in one. The bus stop is only five minutes from home, with two buses at twenty-minute intervals, so there's usually something every ten minutes. It's not far but the bus appeals to my basic laziness.
As I left the house, I saw my neighbour walking back with a load of bags, and an unfamiliar companion. She introduced me to her, and said they'd just walked back together from the bus that had broken down, and they'd been having a nice chat but it was a long way and the bags were heavy and Oh look - there's your bus!
She went home and I wandered towards the bus stop. There was someone waiting at the stop, I made an inane remark about the next bus being worth waiting for, and she said it was due in a few minutes. She moved here three weeks ago from a town thirty miles south, and it's been dreadful. She's been waiting in for people, tradesmen, deliveries, that have come late or not at all. (Don't you expect that when you move house?) Now she's going to the beginning of the town centre to a hairdresser that's been recommended. The bus was late so she was going to be late. It's her first visit, they fitted her in specially, and now she's going to be late. She hates being late. I told her she'd walked past a particularly good hairdresser to get to the bus stop. As good as any in town and in walking distance. She hadn't noticed. I told her the easy-to-remember number of a good minicab firm but she wasn't interested. She drifted off into her own little reality, doing a passable impression of the White Rabbit, and I started walking.
Not far to the shop with the post office in. Into the shop and it's at the far end. Except there's a mountain of flesh in my way, bending over for a paper. She stands up and starts walking. I would like to get round her but she's so wide, she's actually taking up the whole aisle. There really is no way I can get round her. Oh nuts, she's heading for the post office counter. She doesn't know what day it is and she doesn't know what she's doing. Good, she's only changed her mind twice. My turn, and I'm out.
Cross the road and stop to send a text to the beloved child. Hear my name called. It's the mother of one of the most outstanding children in the school where I used to help. He's 16 now and I haven't seen him or his mother for about three years. We walk and talk. We reach the high street and she says she's going to start with a relaxing cup of coffee. Sounds like a good idea. We sit down with tea and she talks and talks and talks. I take my leave and run because the bank will be closing soon. She understands and carries on talking. I do at least stop talking when people need to go!
Five minutes in the bank and ten minutes in a shop and I'm ready to go home. Heading for bus station, phone rings. It's a friend who lives in a few miles out, inviting me to join them for dinner this evening. She'll pick me up at 7.15 on the way to collect her daughter from the cinema. It's 6.15 and I'm in town. In that case I can get the 50 or 51 from the bus station to her house.
I find the right bit of the bus station and wait for the 6.45. Sitting and waiting. It comes in at 6.50, disgorges passengers, and goes out of service. Someone points out that the last one went at 6.15. (Should have read the timetable more carefully.) The other route is hourly and there will be one at 7.30. Phone friend, she says "That's ridiculous," and she will pick me up from home. I walk to the far corner of the bus station, get straight on a bus, it leaves almost immediately, shoots off, all too good to be true. Someone rings the bell for the same stop I want. We're ready to get off. The driver approaches the stop, pulls away from the kerb and speeds up. We shout at him and he grinds to a stop a hundred yards up the road.
I get home with time to drop off my shopping and pick up my phone charger before I am whisked away for a very pleasant evening, meet a mutual friend, eat and chat till gone 1am, get a minicab home.
Keep thinking how much easier it would have been with a car. |
Reply #5285. Dec 22 12, 7:56 PM
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| lesley153
|
Good news: the beloved child is on his way here.
More good news: he will be catching up on a bit of work while he's here.
Not quite so good news: he's bringing a USB stick, but no laptop, because his HDD has died. He will be using my PC. |
Reply #5287. Dec 27 12, 2:46 PM
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bloodandsand
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Hope you've regained control of your PC, Lesley, so that I can wish you a happy, healthy and prosperous New Year :)
Reply #5288. Dec 31 12, 2:28 PM
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| lesley153
|
Thanks, Bev - I didn't know you cared. :)
He was with me till the 30th, when we went to London to my nephew's wedding. He shot off afterwards to join his girlfriend and her family in Cornwall, and I stayed with family for a couple of days of post-wedding carousing. Lovely, but noisy - and much too much food!
Happy 2013. :) xxx |
Reply #5289. Jan 02 13, 6:48 PM
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MarchHare007
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One can never have too much food Lesley - especially when it's shared.
Wishes for a Happy and healthy New Year.
Reply #5290. Jan 04 13, 11:13 PM
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| lesley153
|
Thanks, MH - same to you!
I think it depends on the food. I draw the line at Honey Balls, which are balls of dough, deep-fried and dipped in sugar syrup. Sorry. Is that very miserable of me? |
Reply #5291. Jan 05 13, 2:53 PM
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satguru
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That also sounds like Ras Malai, one of my favourites. I think many of the best ideas are universal.
Reply #5292. Jan 05 13, 5:23 PM
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MarchHare007
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Hmm - dusted with icing sugar instead of honey sounds like Ollie Balls.
Reminds me of 'doughnut holes'.......
And golden syrup dumplings!
Silly food thoughts when the temperature is nudging 40C here today and well over 40C everywhere else.
Reply #5293. Jan 05 13, 6:59 PM
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| lesley153
|
No sillier than wanting ice cream in winter!
Although we're in the middle of a bit of a heatwave here - it's been nudging 10C.
David, I looked up ras malai, and it appears to be balls of paneer boiled in a sugar syrup. They'd need to be deep-fried first to have that extra dimension of rampant unhealthiness! |
Reply #5294. Jan 05 13, 8:55 PM
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| trojan11
|
I think that's just Sat beefing up for his role in Rocky IX. He drew the line at steroid abuse. :)
Reply #5295. Jan 13 13, 1:13 PM
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| lesley153
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| I think you could be right. When forty hours a week in the gym just isn't enough... |
Reply #5296. Jan 13 13, 4:08 PM
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satguru
|
You can't beat ras malai for Indian desserts, and can buy them in Southall at least from shops without having to get a meal as well. Jellabi is fried but like pretzels and not so nice.
Reply #5297. Jan 13 13, 6:28 PM
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| lesley153
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| I found a recipe for Jellabi. Self-raising flour, yoghurt, spices and orange food colouring are loaded into a ketchup bottle and squirted into hot oil, fried for a few minutes, then taken out and dropped into sugar syrup. Tempted to stick with the ras malai! |
Reply #5298. Jan 13 13, 7:13 PM
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| trojan11
|
Tempted to throw up!
Reply #5299. Jan 14 13, 6:41 AM
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