Squirrel Update for Tiffany

For my Birthday. MOTHER bought me a squirrel (not a real one )
He is now placed on the Squirrel feeding table, as the squirrels wait patiently at the feeding table now.

When I say squirrels...sadly to report, Hoppy is nowhere to be seen. Since the large walnut tree has sprouted  nuts, he has been nowhere near the table. Just wait till winter you ungrateful little shit.

The walnut tree is full of squirrels, but , only dear ,dear little Meisie still comes for her food. She always stands with one little paw over her heart. She hardly ever eats the nuts I put out, just takes them and buries them for winter. Not like the rest of them, scoffing all the walnuts without a thought to the future.
I put out bread and sunflower seeds for her as well, so that at least she eats something.
She has made friends with the squirrel statue. Bless her.

Jamie Oliver

Actually , my birthday is the 26th, but it was such a day...no time to blog!
Fabulous lunch at Amiga Jane in Weybridge, with flowers and pressies and wine . I am so so happy she is in London!
More flowers, more pressies.....tickets for Swan Lake
Out to supper at Canary Wharf, at Jamie Olivers restaurant.
It really is a great place, good ambience, decor, service...and the food was remarkable.

The family was too embarrassed by me to allow photos of all the food, but these were the olives for the table...sure set the level of things to come.

Happy Birthday to me!

This is unbelievably my third birthday in England.

First surprise of the day (after breakfast in bed from The Hubby), was this van parked in our street! Aaargh!
I am afraid that he has set some traps, but did not come and ask me if he could set one in our garden

Lucky for him.                                                                                                                                   

Pom help needed

Yes! After an entire year of living in Cottage Grove, we have finally cracked the nod and been invited to a BBQ.
Across the road lives Man With Broken Ankle. He broke his ankle about  2 months after me, and we have been chatting on and off since. Today, after our chat about ankles and our comparison of scars, he invited me to a BBQ.

Problem is , I have forgotten his name. No big deal...I think he has forgotten mine as well.
 I have primed The Hubby, when we go to the BBQ, I will say "This is The Hubby" and then The Hubby will say" Paul" and in theory, Broken Ankle Man will say his name.
This is not my issue.

My issue is that a BBQ is not a braai. At Pom BBQ's,they cook sausages and burgers. So, do we be big show off  Saffas and arrive with steak and ribs, or do we go the Pom route and go with sausages? What if they don't do sausages and then we look like Chavs? What if they all do steaks and then we are stuck with eating crap sausages and burgers.
Perhaps we should go to the Saffa shop and get wors and ribs? Do I take a salad? A dessert? Flowers?

I think I will go over the road and throw myself on the mercy of Broken Ankle Man's wife (whose name I also don't know) and ask her about BBQ etiquette.Would that be a weird thing to do?
What if Broken Ankle Man told his wife that he invited us and she said something like "Oh bloody hell no, they are foreigners?"
What if  they see us as bad neighbours like Nigel The Wanker who feeds the pigeons and is under suspicion of keying a car? Or Marion the Dutch Lady who hates everyone in the street? Or the rest of the neighbours who are 90 in the shade and keep dying?
How do I approach my very first social engagement ever in the UK? With Poms ? Obviously, I have had many social occasions with ex Saffas. Totally different.
Bloody hell...how hard can this be??
HELP!

International Housework Appreciation Day

This should be a new public holiday

It will be the only day in the year when you buy a household appliance as a gift for your wife.
The holiday shall apply to husbands/partners, and children over 18 still living at home.
There will be flowers and cards given.

I have some verse ideas for the cards.

Domestic Goddess, this is for you
For all of the wonderful things that you do
Like changing the sheets and cleaning the loo
'Cos I never do it when I have a poo.
                           **
Spare toilet roll always waiting for me
Toilet is wiped after I do a wee
No dust is visible on my TV
Beer in the fridge and  cake with my tea

                              **

Undies are always tucked in my drawer
Socks have been moved from the sitting room floor
Finger prints wiped from the walls and the door
Domestic Goddess, could I ask for more?

                                **

A clean shirt awaits me for each working day
New shoelaces ready for when older ones fray
House always scented with some kind of spray
All of my messes just magicked away

                           **

The duvet is straightened with one simple tuck
The carpets are cleaned with a powerful suck
Sometimes I simply can't believe my luck
I'm sorry that I am an ungrateful fuck

                           **


Should I go on? Because I can go on forever.....

Home Sweet Home

Back in England again..goodness, Scotland is very different!
People do speak to you there, here, as you know, if you speak to anyone, they think you are mad, and ignore you.

Strangely, I like (or have got used to) the fact that nobody speaks to anybody. It's fine, and quite practical. And timesaving.

I can see the allure of retiring to a village somewhere, and settling in to a small community where everyone chats .
That, nonetheless, is a while away. But I think it will be nice at some stage..

For now, The Hubby and I are enjoying London for as long as it lasts.

Real Scottish Men

 Lordy Lordy!
Must be a hormonal thing.....I  love men in kilts!