Saturday, 29 November 2008

Mean Mom's Christmas List

Warning - adult content!

Dear Santa

I'm not too late, am I? I haven't had a minute to blow my nose, over the last few days, but I suddenly remembered that I hadn't finished off my Christmas list. There are so many vital things missing from my life. I know, however, that the following items will make my happiness complete:

1. A small bottle of Fresh Drop Smell Stop can get rid of nasty smells after a visit to the smallest room in the house, apparently. My passion for late night curries would cease to be a problem, if I had a bottle of this in my possession. In fact, 5 bottles would be ideal, in case the other members of my family have forgotten to add it to their list.

2. A Black Cat Tea Towel Holder sounds like a great idea. At last, a handy place to keep my tea towel! If only my own 3 cats would keep still for a minute, it wouldn't be necessary for me to add this to my list, of course.

3. If I am lucky enough to receive the above, there is no doubt that I will also need an endless supply of QeeZee sick bags. Bags to barf in. What could be more useful? Far more convenient that the bucket I usually carry around.

4. The next item to add to my list has to be a pack of Marked Player Cards. Ideal for my late night poker sessions with my Godfather and his Family. What is that lump in my bed?

5. Next is a Pink Hip Flask. Such an improvement on the bottle I usually carry around to swig from. I only have one reservation. It won't hold much. Perhaps I could have more than one?

6. A packet of Jelly Willies would be a tremendous treat, I think. I know it's a bit of a cheeky request, so I'm afraid to say much about these, but I would just like to mention the fact that it is also possible to buy a box of chocolate ones, in case you think I deserve more than one treat, for my exemplary behaviour throughout the year.

7. Moving swiftly on to the Smoking Mitts. I don't smoke, but I'm thinking of taking it up, so that I can sport these stylish mitts, outside my local on a Saturday night.

8. The next item is a Spare Pair. At last! Has someone been reading my blog? A dream come true for many a menopausal woman!

9. Next, a Piss Off I'm Busy sign. Don't you get fed up of beating around the bush, sometimes? Say what you mean. No one will be offended - really!

10. A Builders Bottom Calendar would be wonderful, Santa. I never see enough of them. This calendar would give me the opportunity of having a new one on display every month. Wonder if there's anyone I know? Hmm........

11. Next request is the stylish Frog Hat. I certainly wouldn't limit its use to the bathroom. It would be wonderful rain apparel, I feel.

12. Last, but not least, on my list is the Glow in the Dark Tumbler.
The problem with half empty bottles, I find, is that they often roll under the bed, when I reach out for them in the early hours. It's such a waste, if I've forgotten to screw the lid back on the vodka, before slipping into a drunken stupor, the night before. A glow in the dark tumbler would be a godsend for such a situation.

That's about it, then, Santa. I do hope that I haven't given you the wrong impression. I've been very good throughout the year, with only an occasional lapse. I definitely deserve lots of presents. Don't forget to call on Christmas Eve, will you? I'll leave out your mince pie and a glass of winter warmer, plus your usual pack of 20 Silk Cut.

Now, about that money I owe you from the last poker game, could I just leave you a little on account? The credit crunch has left me a bit short.......

Lots of Love
Mean Materialistic Mom

Wednesday, 26 November 2008

A Challenging Meme

I finally decided to try the meme which requires only a single word answer to each question. I last saw it at suburbia's place. It must be the toughest I have ever attempted! Could anything be more challenging, for a woman? OK, if by any chance there is a man visiting my site, don't be tempted to reply to that one - not if you're looking forward to your Christmas dinner, anyway.

I needed at least 3 words to reply to these questions and some required a whole paragraph, if not a whole post. Anyway, here is my attempt:

1. Where is your cell phone? Safe

2. Your significant other? Grumpy

3. Your hair? Superfluous

4. Your mother? Paragliding

5. Your father? Driving

6. Your favourite thing? Preparation H

7. Your dream last night? Wild

8. Your favourite drink? Bovril

9. Your dream/goal? Sweet

10. The room you're in? Padded

11. Your fear? Dribbling

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Shrewsbury

13. Where were you last night? Dunno

14. What you're not? 'bovvered'

15. Muffins? Please

16. One of your wish list items? Comments

17. Where you grew up? Haven't

18. The last thing you did? Dribbled (damn!)

19. What are you wearing? Smile

20. Your TV? Dusty

21. Your pet? Cats

22. Your computer? Infuriating

23. Your life? Frustrating

24. Your mood? Dangerous

25. Missing someone? Sons

26. Your car? Old

27. Something you're not wearing? Handcuffs

28. Favourite store? Post Office

29. Your summer? BRIEF

30. Your favourite colour? Fuchsia

31. When is the last time you laughed? January

32. Last time you cried? Just

OK, I did cheat a bit, but not as much as I wanted to!

Sunday, 23 November 2008

A Cheery Post

I would like to dedicate this post to swearing mother who has devoted so much of her time to cheering up her fellow bloggers, I thought that, for once, I would like to return the favour.

I'm feeling a bit down, at the moment and I can't help but notice that some of you are feeling the same way. It's probably something to do with dark nights and Christmas preparations, that some of us simply don't have the stomach for, at the moment. So the question is 'How to cheer up?'

We all know about the basic things that we're supposed to do, like follow a healthy diet, exercise regularly and that sort of thing, but here's a few others you might not have thought of:

1. Think of a few things to be thankful for, such as the fact that:

  • You didn't wake up a few days ago to discover that you were the new President Elect. How scary would that have been on a scale of 1-10?
  • your daughter hasn't published a book about her childhood, called 'Ugly', accusing you of child abuse
  • you're not one of the judges who've been so cruelly critical of John Sergeant, on Strictly. Boo! Hiss!
2. Watch some out-takes on tv. How can watching others falling over, or messing up not be amusing? Laughing at the misfortunes of others must surely be the favourite British pastime!

3. Go into Clinton Cards and peruse the On-The-Ceiling cards. Here's a couple of my favourites:

4. Ask a friend to tell you a few old jokes. Oh, that would be me, then. You all know that I have a silly sense of humour, so I'm not apologising for finding these short jokes amusing, no matter how often I hear them. They are attributed to Tommy Cooper, I think.

A jump lead walks into a bar. The barman says, 'I'll serve you, but don't start anything.'

Sometimes I drink my whisky neat. Other times, I take my tie off and leave my shirt out.

So I said to the taxi driver, 'King Arthur's Close.'
He said, 'Don't worry, we'll lose him at the next lights.'

And the back of his anorak was leaping up and down, and people were chucking money at him. I said 'Do you earn a living doing that?'
He said, 'Yes, this is my livelihood.'

A man takes his rottweiler to the vet. 'My dog's cross-eyed. Is there anything you can do for him?'
'Well,' says the vet, 'let's have a look at him.' So he picks up the dog, examines his eyes, then checks his teeth. Finally, he says, 'I'm going to have to put him down.'
'What? Because he's cross-eyed?'
'No, because he's really heavy.'

So, I'm getting into my car and this bloke says to me, 'Can you give me a lift?'
I said, 'Sure. You look great. The world's your oyster. Go for it.'

Here's a joke that's been related to me more than once. I never let on that I've heard it before, because it always makes me smile.

Sharon is visiting Tracey, for a chat, when there is a knock at the front door and a bouquet of flowers is delivered from Tracey's husband. 'Oh, crap!' says Tracey. 'That's me flat on my back, with my legs apart for the next few days, then!'
'Why?' asks Sharon, looking startled. 'Haven't you got a vase?'

Lastly, if you've ever kept a cat or dog, or both, you might like to check out the first 2 links below. If you can't be bothered with those, you might like to check out the third:

1. Rules for cats

2. why dogs are better pets than cats

3.real answers given on various chat and quiz shows

There's some other funny stuff there, ( too, if you have a few minutes to spare.

There it is, then. I know it's all corny stuff, but I hope that it's helped to cheer everyone up a bit. Well, you didn't expect anything sophisticated from me, did you?

Tuesday, 18 November 2008

Seasons Greetings!

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose........ Oh, there you are! Why not turn on your speakers so that you can listen to my Christmas songs? Did I hear someone groaning on my blog?

Has anyone wished you a 'Merry Christmas', yet? Can I be the first, then?

I love Christmas, especially when it starts in September. I get so excited that I have to wear my Tenna pants day and night. Only 36 shopping days to Christmas, you know!

Have you written your Christmas cards, yet, or wrapped your presents, bought your Christmas candles, put up your Christmas tree and iced your Christmas cake? Have you slipped off the roof, yet, whilst putting up your illuminated santa and sleigh? It's worth a couple of days in hospital, though, isn't it, when you see the delight on the children's faces?

I buy my Christmas cards in the January sales and some of my Christmas presents, too. I've always got some of my presents wrapped and all of my cards written by the end of January. Have I ever mentioned that I have a Btech in one-upmanship? Anything you can start, I can start earlier.

The limit on my husband's credit card is so high, this year, that I can hardly believe my luck. I bought the remainder of my Christmas presents last month and I'm so pleased, because the post office didn't have to send a special van to deliver the Barclaycard statement, this time. It was only 999 pages long and I think we actually might manage to pay it off by September next year. That'll be a whole month earlier than this year!

I have to confess that I do have a few little gripes concerning Christmas, however:

1. I wish the Christmas stuff would appear earlier in the shops. September just isn't early enough. Perhaps it could appear in February, next year. You can never have too much of a good thing, in my opinion.

2. I haven't had a Christmas card, yet, this year! Mine had all been delivered by the end of August. Come on, everybody! What are you all doing? It is the middle of November!

3. I never get enough of those Christmas catalogues, do you? Could someone send me a few more? Preferably the same ones that I already have, but with a different cover. I can still open the front door, so I know that I don't have anywhere near enough, so far.

4. I never get enough round robins either. I always look forward to hearing about how well near strangers are doing, since they emigrated to paradise, where it rains gold coins and you can safely walk in the streets after dark. It fair warms the cockles of my heart to learn that mere acquaintances have been 'lucky enough' to finally move into the small mansion of their dreams and that their darling offspring have achieved straight 'A's in subjects that they weren't even studying. Could we perhaps have round robins at Easter, as well as Christmas? I think that I could probably just about cope with the extra joy that this would bring.

5. Finally, I'm quite disturbed to see that there are nowhere near enough tins of chocolate biscuits and Christmas sweets in the shops. I fear that there simply won't be enough to go round and that some of us will still have teeth without fillings at the end of January.

You'll be pleased to know that I've looked through all of the Christmas catalogues and compiled an enormous list of things I can no longer live without. The most important ones are:

1. A Star Wars bobble head

2. some tattoo sleeves

3. a pets' arse sharpener

4. a Darth Vader suit for my newborn

5. a drooly bib

Whichever present you decide on, could you please wrap it in expensive Christmas wrapping paper, with lots of sellotape, as those Christmas gift bags are a bit of a cop out, aren't they, really?

Anyway, must be off. Can't hang around talking to you lot forever. I'm just off to Somerfield to take advantage of their BOGOF offer on port. Two bottles for £9.99! That's one for each hand by my reckoning. I aim to save them for Christmas day and, by the time the Queen's speech comes on, I should have slipped silently under the table, with a bit of luck. I suppose that I'll probably be discovered on Boxing day, when everyone's looking for somebody to make the turkey sandwiches and hand round the pickled onions.

Now, as soon as I get back from the supermarket, I'm going to stuff the turkey and put the sprouts on. Did I mention that I've got a Btech in one-upmanship? Oh, I already did, did I?


Santa - if you're reading this, is there any chance of having a Pocket Surfer 2 for Christmas? I (really, really do) Want One Of Those!

Christmas lovers, please don't take offence at the above. It's all tongue in cheek. I do enjoy (most aspects of) Christmas - no really!

Monday, 17 November 2008

The Shirt With The Hole

'What can we get you for your birthday, then, dad?' enquired eldest son, as we enjoyed an early, celebratory meal in a nearby pub' restaurant.

'Just a card,' replied my husband. 'I know that you haven't got much spare cash, at the moment and I don't want you to waste your money on me.'

'We will get you something, though,' said eldest son's girlfriend, 'so you might as well tell us what you'd like.'

I took advantage of the short pause in the conversation and said to my eldest son, with a wicked smile, 'Your father needs a polo shirt, without a hole in it.' My husband tutted and looked visibly annoyed for a few seconds. I wasn't surprised at my sons' subsequent reactions, as the men in my family have a habit of sticking together.

'Oh, don't tell me! Has dad been going out looking less than perfect?' said my eldest son with mock exaggeration.

'Oh, no!' joined in youngest son. 'Has dad been going out with holes in his clothes? Shock, horror!'

They laughed and I laughed, but I continued with mock haughtiness, as soon as they had quietened down, 'I never go out with holes in my clothes. I have standards. I expect the same from your father!' We all laughed once more and the conversation moved on.

I don't mind them teasing me, but there is no basis for it, because I've never been in the habit of telling my husband what to wear. In the 32 years since our marriage, in spite of having to bite my lip, on several occasions, I've only criticised the clothes that my husband has decided to wear on 2 recent occasions.

My husband has never taken much interest in clothes, but he has always found short sleeved polo shirts particularly comfortable to wear and has been an avid collector since about 1976. They are his most favoured garment. He buys new ones, but he never throws an old one away. He will wear the same polo shirt to go out, as he wore a couple of weeks before, to cut the hedge and dig the garden. Joseph's amazing old technicolour dreamcoat could have been inspired by the myriad of colours in his collection and, if I laid them end to end, they would probably go twice around the earth's circumference. 2 of them have been the proud recipients of a telegram from the Queen.

It doesn't matter if they are faded, shrunken and stiff from age, or misshapen, they remain as beautiful to him, as the day he first set eyes on them. I sometimes wonder whether it is the same soft focus vision, which has stopped him swapping me for a younger model. I may give my own optician the boot and start visiting his.

A few months ago, my husband and I were going out for the day and I noticed that the polo shirt he was wearing had a small hole in it. When I pointed it out, he looked irritated, but went off to change it. The next time he did the same thing, I didn't say anything, as we were only going to the shops, but, after that occasion, I stopped ironing his very old polo shirts, in the hope that it would persuade him to keep them for working around the house.

The next time I noticed him donning one of his old, creased polo shirts, I pointed out that I was no longer ironing those particular shirts, because they were too scruffy and I suggested that he should buy a couple of new ones to keep solely for going out. After the conversation in the pub' a couple of nights ago, I'm relieved to say that he has finally taken the hint and we are going polo shirt shopping at the weekend! Yay! We know how to live!

I don't care how much I am teased about my attitude, I won't be changing my opinion. I don't have many clothes, these days and I am often to be found in jeans, but my clothes are always ironed, clean and respectable. I wear old clothes around the house and for gardening etc, but I keep some decent clothes for going out. I never look scruffy, when I go out with my husband and I expect the same standards from him.

What about you? What's your opinion? Do you think that I've made too much fuss about a hole in a shirt? Would you object if your husband wanted to go out with holes in his clothes, where it wasn't fashionable to have them? Do you try to look smart, when going out, or do you not think it's so important, nowadays?

Saturday, 15 November 2008

The Legacy

This post is continued from the last, published on 12 November 2008.

The rumpus continued. From the grandson there was a bit of 'Don't you push my sister!' From the youngest daughter there was a lot of 'I'm not having a door slammed in my face!' From the eldest daughter, there was a little of 'Don't you tell me how to bring up my children!' Both sisters were rude to each other. The youngest was rude to my aunt. The youngest sister shouted that she was going home. My husband turned to me, smirked and remarked that no one could go anywhere until he had moved his car. A few minutes' silence ensued, then my youngest cousin came into the living room and sweetly asked my husband whether he would mind moving his car. It was a change of tone worthy of a Bafta.

As soon as my cousin had left, we comforted my aunt, in the kitchen, whilst we made some tea. (Woohoo, a cup of tea, at last!) My other cousin and her 2 children eventually joined us, in the living room, for a few sandwiches and snacks and we all tried to recover from the stresses and strains of the day. It was a day of tragedy and of comedy. In the end, in spite of the seriousness of the situation, we had to laugh.

Apparently, my younger cousin had reproached her niece and nephew, as she blamed them for the fact that her sister was returning home, to the Midlands, earlier than my younger cousin had hoped. She had pushed her niece, who had slammed the bedroom door in her face and the whole thing had escalated from there.

The oldest sister and her family had travelled down, from the Midlands, on the previous Tuesday morning and were intending to leave on the Saturday, mainly because the teenage children had engagements that they didn't want to miss. My younger cousin was annoyed because, for the first few days after her father's death, she had been left to support her mother and deal with the funeral arrangements alone. Paradoxically, it seemed that she was also suffering some pangs of jealousy, since the arrival of other members of the family, because her mother was no longer solely reliant on her.

The younger sister lived close by, was in the throes of a divorce and had a 5 year old daughter, who was 'a bit of a handful', by all accounts. I had a certain amount of empathy for my younger cousin. My aunt is unable to drive, so when my uncle had become too ill to drive himself to and from the hospital (a 50 mile round trip), the responsibility had fallen on my cousin. My aunt hadn't even been able to shop without her help, because the nearest supermarket was a few miles away.

My older cousin resented the fact that her parents had been persuaded by her sister to leave the Midlands. She felt abandoned and that her sister had deliberately sought to isolate and exclude her. I had more empathy with my older cousin, because I felt that her younger sister had been manipulative and controlling. The younger sister had moved from the Midlands, to the seaside, a few years ago, after getting a temporary job. She had eventually married a local man and had a child. When her marriage had broken down, she had persuaded my aunt and uncle to move to a house close to her.

As my aunt looked back on her own life, a disturbing pattern began to emerge. Her mother (my maternal grandmother) had died after giving birth to her. My grandfather had remarried, but his new wife had refused to take on all 3 of his children. She accepted the 2 older children, (my mother and my other aunt) but the aunt relating the story was handed over, as a baby, to be brought up by a maiden aunt.

My aunt explained how she was often hit so hard in the face, by her aunt, that her nose bled. She was dragged around the house by her hair and hit across the back of her legs with a walking stick. On a few occasions, my late uncle had been physically abusive, during the first couple of years of their marriage and mentally abusive up until the end of his life. He was jealous and possessive. She wasn't allowed to have regular contact with friends and relations after her marriage and sometimes, she wasn't even allowed to speak to anyone on the telephone.

When they moved to the seaside, my uncle chose a house, in a small town, with no proper bus service. Once again, my aunt was isolated and under his control. From the limited contact I had had with the family, and from the remarks I had heard during the argument, after the funeral, I suspected that my aunt's youngest daughter had inherited my uncle's possessive and controlling nature. There seemed to be every possibility that she was stepping into his shoes.

My uncle purposely left no will. He kept my aunt in ignorance about his financial affairs and the running of the house. He bragged that he wasn't short of money, even though the family assured him that they had no interest in it, because it didn't seem to have made him a happy man. They loved him, in spite of his faults. It seems that he may have been prone to exaggeration, in some respects, however. It appears that he may not have left a great deal of money, but he may have left some other sort of legacy, instead.

My aunt understands the potential dangers of the situation in which she now finds herself. She wants a relationship with her youngest daughter, but she doesn't want, or need, another tyrant in her life. She intends to move to a smaller house, in a more suitable area, as soon as the market improves. I suggested that she should make enquiries about joining some sort of local club, or voluntary group, so that she would have an opportunity of making some friends and wouldn't then be totally reliant on her daughter for company.

To a certain extent, my aunt is finally free to make some sort of life for herself. I can only hope that, after so many years of bullying and isolation, that she has the courage to take advantage of the opportunities presented to her.

Wednesday, 12 November 2008

After The Funeral

After my late uncle's funeral service and interment, my husband and I drove to my aunt's house. It was a journey of just a few minutes, by car, so we had hardly any chance to recover from the effects of the chill wind, which had been blowing forcefully across the churchyard. In the near distance, we glimpsed the sea sparkling in the autumn sunshine, as we turned into the cul de sac, where my aunt now lived.

There were 2 cars already parked on the drive, presumably belonging to my aunt's 2 daughters, so we parked behind them, on the road. My aunt opened the front door, leading the way into the living room, as she expressed her gratitude to us for taking the time and trouble to attend her late husband's funeral.

My aunt and uncle had moved to this small seaside town a few months ago, after a lot of persuasion from their youngest daughter, who had wanted them to live closer to her. My uncle had been 77 years old, at the the time of the move and suffered a heart attack 2 weeks before they were due to leave. Shortly after they moved, he had discovered that he was suffering from cancer and they had since bitterly regretted leaving the home, which had been theirs, ever since they had first been married.

We walked into the living room, but almost as soon as we sat on the sofa, we heard the sounds of some sort of disturbance coming from the direction of the hall. There was some scuffling, a few shrieks and the sound of a door slamming. I realised that there was some sort of altercation taking place between my late uncle's 2 daughters and the eldest daughter's 2 teenage children, a girl aged 19 and a boy aged 16. My aunt hurried out in to the hall to see what was happening.

We began to feel rather awkward, uncomfortable and embarrassed. We wondered whether we should leave, but I didn't want to abandon my aunt. We decided to wait a while, but not to interfere, unless it was absolutely necessary.

I sighed, as I considered the gigantic effort we had made to get to the funeral. My husband had arranged a day's holiday for the day of the funeral, rescheduled his doctor's appointment and asked his young female assistant to set up and take charge of his stand, at an exhibition, which was taking place in London. Last Thursday, the day before the funeral, after our evening meal, we had packed a few things and set off for a Travel Lodge in Devon. After a journey of 3 1/2 hours on a dark, windy, rainy night, we finally arrived at midnight, having lost our way on only one occasion.

The following morning, we had risen early, munched through our 'breakfast in a bag' and driven for another 1 1/2 hours to arrive at the church at 10.35 am. We were the only members of the family, who had been willing and able to cope with the length of the journey, so we had sat alone for 25 minutes, until my aunt arrived with her 2 daughters and 2 grandchildren at 11 am. We had struggled valiantly with 2 hymns, neither of which were familiar and supported the family at the graveside, as the coffin was lowered into the grave. After a short rest at my aunt's house, we had a journey of at least 5 hours to look forward to, as were driving to my parents house, in the Midlands, to spend the night. My husband had another exhibition to attend, in Birmingham, on the Saturday morning.

The shouting and swearing from the hall cut into my thoughts as it became louder and more intense. We wondered, vaguely, whether there would be any chance of getting a cup of tea, before we had to leave.............

To be continued

Monday, 3 November 2008

Tagged Again!

Suburbia, you've very kindly given me an award, but tagged me again! You know that these things bring out the worst in me and that I can't resist them. Do you think that maybe I've got multiple personality disorder?

This one has a '7's theme:

7 Things I plan to do before I die:

Finish my ironing

Pluck that stray hair out of my chin

Have another brazilian

Have sex with Russell Brand and make sure I give him my grandfather's home telephone number

Moon my next door neighbour

Get drunk and have sex on the beach in Dubai

My pelvic floor exercises

7 Things I do now:

Blog when I should be ironing

Wear a very large hat to distract attention from the stray hair on my chin

Shampoo, condition, apply a little mousse, followed by a blow dry and a bit of hair lacquer to keep everything tidy down there

Have sex with anyone who professes to love me for my mind

Moon my next door neighbour as soon as he turns his back

Have sex on the beach in Brighton. It 's so cold that there's nobody around to bother

Carry a spare pair, in case of little accidents

7 Things I can't do:

Sit like this. It hurts my left knee, lately

Stand up after sitting like this, these days

Turn on the tap, after middle son has turned it off

Play the piano

Read without my glasses and a good light

Limbo without something dragging on the floor

Get my size 8 jeans past my ankles

7 things that attract me in the opposite sex:

A beard

A reluctance to discard anything because it might come in useful in 10 years' time and save us 20p

Total lack of enthusiasm for diy

The desire to spend thousands on a holiday, when the house is falling apart

Ability to love me even when I'm in the menopause

Loving my sons as much as I do

Sharing my silly sense of humour

Well, that was unbelievably lucky, then! Fortunately, I found my perfect match!

7 things I say most often:

Middle son, can you turn up your music? My brain isn't vibrating against the sides of my skull, yet

Can you use more towels? I haven't got enough for 5 full loads, yet

I've had to write you a message on a piece of paper today, instead of scrawling one, with my finger, on the top of the dining room table, because I've dusted

I know where I've put that

I'm just going for a 5 mile run, before I do my pelvic floor exercises

I wish that my tummy would stick out a bit. It's so flat

Will you make more mess in the house? There's nowhere near enough

7 Celebrities that I admire

Well, I don't exactly admire them, but I do admire their ability to convince certain people that they should be rewarded for not a lot, or for just being obnoxious, arrogant, or irritating

Russell Brand

Jonathan Ross

Jade Goody

Jeremy Clarkson

Jodie Marsh

Liz Hurley

Tara Palmer Tomkinson

7 Favourite foods

Burnt toast

Burnt sausage

Lumpy gravy

Lumpy custard

Meat overcooked

Soggy veg

Soggy pastry

Luckily I can whip up all of the above in no time at all!

7 Bloggers who need to do this:

Well, I don't really mind who does it - anyone can, who fancies it, but I'd like to pass on the award to the following:


dusty spider

maggie may

merry weather




If any of the above would like to do the tag, I will be over to read it, of course!