Jelly

Well, you would think!

As a Saffa, I have only ever known jelly to be in powder form.
Here, it comes in a jelly block, like chocolate.
Now, I do remember , when I was three, eating a jelly block that my Nanna gave me.

So, all prepared to make Carnival Pudding, I bought jelly.
Seeing as it is divided into blocks, I thought, one block, one jelly.
No indication on the packet instructions.
Just says, add 100 ml hot water, then add cold water.
So, not one block.
You have to put the whole thing in.

Trial and error.

Jury Duty

Having lived in a country where there is no Jury system,this is a very new thing to me.
The Hubby has to do Jury Duty next month.
I have always thought it would be great fun to be on a Jury, in fact, it could turn out to be somewhat financially trying. You have no choice, Jury Duty is non negotiable.
You can claim £32.47 per day for the first 10 days, £64.95 from the 11th to the 200th, and £129.91 thereafter. Travel and parking is paid for, and a £5.71 meal allowance.
Your Jury Duty lasts two weeks. Should your case be finished in 2 days, tough, you just go and do another one.
I was hoping The Hubby would have a big exciting case.
Now I hope not.
Two  weeks is quite enough at that rate of pay!

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry

Finished it half an hour ago and I am still crying.
When it is not breaking your heart, it is totally and utterly charming, but, read it at your peril!

Bargain Books

Simply couldn't pass this sign in the Charity Shop ...

I now have 18 books , including a very good copy of Atlas Shrugged, to place somewhere within this house.
This very house, where barely two weeks ago I cleared out a bagful of books to drop off at the Charity Shop.

Housewifey tip

Seeing as I am not actually in gainful employment  ( although, I am starting a business, watch this space) ,  it is hard to  raise the level of my conversation above the kitchen floor.
So , here we go, household tips, please kill me now...

My microwave oven has never quite been the same since SA Sam burnt the popcorn in it.

But, take a mug of water with a generous splash of  vinegar in it, couple of minutes on high, my god, it is totes amazeballs.

My best ever household tip, that The Gorgeous Son always uses (at least I taught him something)
If you are going to throw an old cloth away, you may as well clean the dustbins with it first.

And, multitask. Always multitask.

To give an example of this, I will now describe my mornings in the bathroom.

Step by step, believe me, this will revolutionise your bathroom cleaning life.

1)  Enter bathroom, filled with steam from The Hubby's hour shower
2)  Enter shower
3) Whilst showering, spray all fixtures and fittings with Viakal , miracle cleaning product.
4)  After having performed ablutions, spray all parts of the bathroom with Viakal  , miracle cleaning product.
5) Swoosh bottom of bath with feet. This cleans the entire bath and your feet at the same time.
6) Take cleverly placed  squeegee in shower area, squeegee windows , tiles and surrounds
7) Whilst brushing teeth, rinse all  areas previously sprayed with Viakal
8) Spray Viakal into toilet to remove lime scale, after having used Toilet Duck Fresh Brush , actually,     you know what? This was not in my marriage vows.
9) Rinse away shaving hair . This was not in my vows either.
10) Rinse away left over toothpaste from The Hubby. Again, not in the vows
11) Put previously lovely clean white towels now stained with toothpaste and blood from shaving into wash basket. This, again, not in vows
12) go back to bed.

Ding Dong

Ding Dong The Witch is Dead..

Number 2 on the BBC Top 40  Chart Show.

I am glad it wasn't number one, it has taken away the 'Will they, wont they'  play it issue.

I am sad that Maggie Thatcher has died. I admired her .

I am alarmed at the reaction here, I knew people hated her, but , wow, no, not nice.

I don't like to see the way some people are celebrating her death, and opposing the State Funeral.

I would not presume to comment on the politics of it all, I didn't live here then. 

It always amused me , when it was said that Maggie got the Poms up off their arses and onto their knees.

I thought it was funny.

Again, I didn't live here then.

There are many people here who view Mandela only as a terrorist.

And some who know absolutely nothing about him, FW, or Zuma.

And a dear woman, who asked where I came from, said "South Africa? Isn't there a war there?"

I know as little about the UK under Maggie as people here know about SA under Zuma.

I am surprised at the State Funeral. I don't think it is really necessary, and it is going to cause an awful lot of problems on the day.

But, all that said, I did like her. 

Her family surely loved her, so lets just have a respectful funeral, come on, play nice.

Cambridge Afternoon

What a lovely afternoon I had in Cambridge .

Quite delightful.
All by myself.

There was a group of three boys, dressed in black, with the mop top hairdo, playing Beatles Songs, going down very well with the  tourists, And,  indeed , with me.

A block away was a duo of Spanish Guitar and panpipes,  which sounds worse than it was, it was actually lovely, for a millisecond I was tempted to buy the CD. (Isn't it odd that all buskers have CDs now?)
But , no , Panpipes get very irritating after about five minutes.
Like James...Thingy..wtf was his name?

Around the corner, an Irishman playing the fiddle on a tightrope suspended about 3 foot above the ground.
No idea.
But was very interesting.

Of course, the place was HEAVING with tourists.
Even though it was kak weather, drizzly and a bit chilly, in theory, it is British Summertime, so the tourists are here in force.

I don't mind them.
It is a tad annoying when you have to pause every few seconds so that you don't photobomb their pics, but fair enough, everyone should see Cambridge.
Not necessarily on the same day that I decide to spend a day at the market...shame, or indeed Bless, as the Poms  would say, not a wonderful day to take a trip on a punt if you have travelled a million k's to do this very thing.

More irritating, and more related to ME , they have changed the bus stops and the numbers of the  buses, OMG I am sounding  like a Daily  Mail Reader , so I will stop right  now.

I am eternally grateful for the fact that the Poms have a bus service at all
Parking is a disaster on a Saturday, so it is great to be able to take a bus into town.

I must add that I undertook this trip to town on a Saturday because The Hubby is watching the golf.
PGA.
Best I just keep out of the way.
I don't mind at all.
Wimbledon is coming soon.
That is what marriage is all about.
Compromise.

You watch your stuff.  I watch my stuff.
That is why we have been married for 30 years.

Sweet William

Just delightful, what a wonderful opportunity it was indeed to meet William Hanson, expert in Etiquette, indeed, extreme expert, knowing much much more than me, who considers myself to be quite the expert in all things etiquette.
 But not as expert as Sweet William who advises Downton Abbey.
And indeed, is the current foremost expert in the entire world.

And a lovely boy indeed.
I can say this, seeing as I am way way older than him.

The tea itself...well, let me not name or shame, but truly, the hotel needs a lesson in serving High Tea.
Dreadful service by totally disinterested staff.
Sandwiches were ok, but served just slapped onto a plain plate. Not a garnish in sight.
Cakes...well, the least said the better, the lady next to me commented that the cupcakes looked liked something she could herself have made at home on a bad day.
The scones were ok, but the rest of the Cakey things were pretty much unidentifiable.
And ugly.
I really don't do ugly.

No sugar tongs for the sugar cubes, no sliced lemon for the tea.....for those of us who don't have milk...I have never been so disappointed in my life.
Well, that's not  true, let me clarify,  I have never been so disappointed by a High Tea in my life.
High  Tea my arse.
Sweet William remained a perfect gentleman and did not comment at all on any of this.
I would have gone berserk.
This is probably why he is the leading expert in the field, and not me.

Still and all, the people who attended the tea were lovely. I had a really nice afternoon.

Pity that I will never be able to speak to any of them ever again due to the fact that data restrictions do not allow me to get their e mail addresses or info in case I may be a mad stalker or identity theft person.
Not indeed, a person who might want to just be a friend.
Nope.
So, basically, no....not saying it again!
Nothing has changed
*sigh*

Friends?

Anyone who knows me would be amazed at how nice I am being.

I wave motorists ahead of me, I let people in the queue ahead of me, I held a screaming baby so his mother could unpack her groceries,  I unpacked a trolley for a really pregnant lady, I all but saved an elderly lady's LIFE for fuck's sake. ( OK I just fanned her lightly and told her my daughter was a doctor...but it worked! She felt better! )

 I gave my leftover Pyrex Dishes Coupons to a woman in Tesco, I smile and say Hello to everyone , and STILL nobody will be my friend. Or even smile and be pleasant.

Well, let me tell you Cambridge, this is your last chance.

Tomorrow I am going to a fancy tea party at a fancy hotel with a fancy guest speaker, hosted by a fancy Cambridge Blogger.
I will wear my best outfit (with a hat) and be VERY nice to everybody.
Admittedly, the last time I wanted to attend a tea party hosted by this very same person, it proved to be impossible due to the fact that I had just moved up to Cambridge from London and did not have a car, and due to the provincial nature of Cambridge it was impossible for me to attend without paying about £40 for a taxi.
I did blog something along the lines of Fuck These Village People.
Still, forgive and forget....
We shall see.
I will report back.