The Holly and the Ivy

Don’t worry, it isn’t Christmas yet!

After the recent heat wave we’re now back to cold winds and rain and my bungalow has returned to winter conditions, that means freezing. I am so tempted to switch on the central heating. The sun did come out for half an hour and as it’s usually warmer out than in I ventured outside to cut back the holly.

A thick holly bush grows beneath my bedroom window, a leftover from previous tenants. We let it stay, thinking it was an ideal way of stopping burglars climbing through even a small open window. That’s a joke, it didn’t stop my stepson getting in when all else failed. The knack is to reach inside the little window and grab the handle of the bigger window. Simple! It taught us a lesson, if it was that easy then we must also lock the windows. Thank goodness I bought that fan! But back to the holly bush…..

… which is how I came to find the ivy. It was like a vine, tendrils trailing everywhere, including the window sill. Next stop, the upper window frame! It must have been hiding for years at the back of the holly and is only now emerging. I got stuck in.

First of all I had to get a grabber because I couldn’t reach the back of the holly. Using the grabber I leaned across and pulled and tugged until I got a grip on a sturdy shoot of ivy. Pulling that resulted in a shower of ants and tiny black flies to land on my arms. Ugh! I had visions of the damn things getting through the window into my bedroom and Ugh! into my bed. Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!

Every year we get ant nests in the paved drive but they’re harmless buried under their respective heaps of sand dug out from between the slabs. They’re the flying ants and when ready they fly off. No problem. I’ve always looked on these as being educational, I could often be found crouching down watching the ants at work. This is all a bit strange but there you go. What more do you want for nothing? Beauty and the Beast?

The little monsters in the hedge are slightly different to the soon-to-be flying ants. These are stingers. The blighters even got inside my gloves and oh boy did they sting. They were running all over my arm. I’m not sure if I actually screamed but a couple of neighbours put in an appearance so I must have made some kind of noise. The man next door was good, he swiped my arm (ouch) in such a way most of the the ants fell off. He was a little more gentle when he got rid of the rest. I cringe just thinking about it.

All this reminded me of an occasion when hundreds of black flies covered a lovely yellow dress, yes, while I was wearing it. I was on my way home from work when it happened and still had a long way to go. I tried batting the flies off but there were too many of them. I ran screeching hysterically all the way home and couldn’t wait to get in the shower Someone told me afterwards that flies love yellow. Would you believe I never wore that colour again? That’s how I felt working amongst the holly and I swear to you, NEVER AGAIN. The holly can grow up to the roof for all I care, I am NOT going to cut it down. If the job needs doing my Guy can do it … see if he likes it.

You should see the scratches on my arms; they look as if I’ve been attacked by a lunatic with a razor. Please pray that the heat wave doesn’t return until all insects are safely out of the way because sunshine just makes me want to get out.

Wordless...

Updating the Kitchen Utensils

It gets boring cooking the same thing over and over again. Even watching Master Chef didn’t inspire me to create more interesting dishes. However, I was impressed by the 15 year old boy who won this year’s Britain’s Best Dish contest, earning high praise from the top chef at the prestigious Savoy Hotel who proclaimed the dish to be faultless; £10,000 cash, and an apprenticeship at the Savoy…. the latter because of the impact made on the Savoy chef in not only cooking but designing the winning dish. This was the dish:

Vanilla friande served with amaretto cream, fromage blanc sorbet and blueberry compote

My trouble is I’ve been out of action in the kitchen for nigh on twelve months. The visit by Arth Ritis played havoc with the joints, very limiting when there’s heavy pots and roasting dishes to handle. Then, when I got back in the swing I couldn’t remember what I used to cook. It’s been sausage and mash, fish and chips, and lots of other easy stuff. So while my Guy was away in Australia I went shopping, not for food but for ridged fry pans and other vessels with which to improve the daily diet.

I’m pleasantly surprised by the fry pan. All of a sudden my meat is succulent and really tender and fish is to die for. No more oven or grill cooking for this little gal. Even the casseroles taste better when done on the hob, although I did manage to do a sausage casserole in the top oven, using a smaller dish that was easier to handle.

I went mad at the garden centre as well. I now have rocket lettuce, basil, rosemary, chives, parsley and apple mint growing in pots on the window sill along with numerous trays of sprouting seeds. Along with hardboiled eggs and the sweetest and tiniest tomatoes I’ve ever eaten the salads are now tasting like a salad should.

Mind you, we still eat the occasional scrumptious meat pie. Having found one we really like it is hard not to buy them occasionally. Okay, okay, once a week isn’t bad, is it?

Having spent money on cooking utensils, I went into overdrive and bought more stuff for the house. Since the country was in the middle of a heat wave I needed something to cool me down during the night. A spate of local burglaries was instrumental in scaring the neighbours so we followed the police recommendation that all windows be kept shut at night. Since the burglar(s) had climbed through open windows I definitely didn’t feel like sleeping with the windows open.

After two nights of profuse sweating, I decided to buy a fan. Not your ordinary little fan, oh no, I went the whole hog and bought a tower. When he arrived home and viewed the acquisition Hubs thought I was mad. I’ll never sleep with that thing on, he said. But he does. Deafness means he doesn’t hear the gentle, repeat gentle, noise and although he hasn’t said as much I think he appreciates the cool breeze that floats like a wave over his hot little body. A good feature is that the fan has a timer so it switches off when we’re in the Land of Nod.

Heehee I bought clothes as well but I used my own cash for those purchases. I didn’t want to incur any wrath, you see. I’d spent enough! The reason for the new clothes? I’d lost so much weight I literally had nothing to wear. Everything looked enormous on my now sylph-like figure (Hmm!) so a shopping spree was essential. Honest! Now I’m having a great time parcelling the oldies ready for the charity shops. I’d better watch it with the cooking or I’ll be putting it all back on. The charity shops are much too far away to fetch back all my gear.

Monday Mirth

The priest was about to say the name and pour the water in baptism when it occurred to him that this was a very odd name. 'Are you sure that's what you want? Pindonim? I've never heard it before.' Don't be daft,' said the mother. 'We want Albert. Look, it's pinned on 'im with a safety pin.'

Just thought I'd throw that one in for a giggle. Now for the Monday Mirth video.