Yeah right!

You may have seen the road safety adverts which
claims that in London, motorcyclists(and I suppose this applies to
cyclists as well) are hit on a regular basis by car drivers who are
looking but not seeing. Well I say nonsense (I actually say something
slightly different which starts with a B but never mind). The reason
they get hit is because drivers are not looking

Example:
this afternoon, cycle home from work, riding at fairly average speed
(12m/hour), the traffic was going slightly slower but as the street is
wide and cyclists are a usual sight most drivers have been kind enough
to leave some space to the left of their cars and I didn't need to slow
down. So far so good.

Would have been perfect if
as I was passing him a driver had not decided to narrow the gap between
the car and the pavement forcing me to brake sharp so as not to get
squished. The traffic stopped and I did the "one foot on the pavement
shuffle" until I got to the passenger window and saw the reason why he
was oblivious to what was going on around him while at the wheel.

The twonk was reading the newspaper while driving! (For those of you who are into details it was the Daily Telegraph). I don't think he was looking somehow.
1.7.05 21:55


Bombings in London



The first I knew of it was when the receptionist called me "you know
buses and all don't you?"; "well, I don't know buses that well - but
try me"; "How would you get back from Earl's Court"; "Piccadily line";
"No tube at all - some power surge thing"; "bus to Victoria - not sure
what the number would be - 65 maybe; then train to Clapham junction
then change and train the rest"; "OK" (turned out they ended up having
to walk to Hammersmith where somebody at work picked them up).



Had a look at the BBC news website and quickly power surge was replaced
by blast and the sense of dread and worry, a little later the relief as
news came in that others were ok and a little later still guilt at the
relief when so many may have to deal with less happy news.



I joined the other foreigners at the switchboard to call relatives
abroad and reassure them before the news broke in our respective
countries of a terrorist attack in London. My mother was instructed to
call my grandfather before he started getting worried. When I spoke to
her a bit longer today she explained how minutes after I put the phone
down the news broke in France and relatives and friends of the family
started calling.



Thinking of those who who were hurt and their families.
7.7.05 20:28


Risk assessment


The Boy has a day off school on Monday. This time I have not forgotten
it's an inset day. Instead of taking him with me to work as I would
normally I organised to take the day off last week so we could have
some time together in town before he goes off on his holidays with his
grand-parent.


Last week as we were walking hom from after school club I questionned
him on where he would like to go. Many of the suggestions were turned
down as "seen it a zillion times already". Then a quick thought. He has been to Portsmouth recently for Seabritain 2005 with his school so The Greenwich Maritime Museum sprung to mind. He has been before for the Tintin exhibition but did not see the Observatory. Perfect.

In
light of yesterday's events I toyed with the idea of cancelling the
leave and postponing the outing, but part of me is angry and thinking
"why should I let these people think they can change the way I live my
life?". Instead I looked at the plan and the services which are running
as normal and presented the plan for the day to The Boy tonight when I
took him to bed expecting him to be exited at the prospect of a trip to
Waterloo, a walk along the Thames to Tower Bridge, a quick tube journey
on the Jubilee Line to Greenwich and returning to the Station on the
DLR and a Thames Clipper.

No
excitment on his solemn 8 year old little face, just worry. So we had a
talk about bad things happen but how you can't let the worry about bad
things happening stop you from living your life else you would never
even get out of your front door and life would be very dull indeed. We
talked about risk and how there is no such thing as risk free and about
enjoying what you have and making the most of times of freedom.

I
wish I could give hime the sheltered childhood I had where concepts
like war, famine, death, disease and mindless violence were vague and
distant, but I can't.

8.7.05 23:29


Pass the sugar Honey

It had been a while since I last baked so I thought I'd get the tins out and make the Pina Colada cake again.

I found the recipe back in February when I needed an idea for a cake which was suitable for a coeliac sufferer.
It is less boring than the usual gluten free cakes. Unfortunately I
cannot find the site I got the recipe from anymore. I have hardly
modified the recipe so if it is yours, give me a shout and I'll add
credits.

So here we go. First get your earphones on and a 4/5
song selection ready. Ask your perdonal kitchen slave to prepare a
couple of sandwich tins (lining them with paper and buttering with
skills) and preheat the oven to 150oC. Then break 5 eggs and add 150g
of demerara sugar (that's 6 oz in old money). Set the timer on 10
minutes and start beating the eggs and sugar. 10 minutes is a long time
to be whisking and watching the mix turn to a very pale yellow foam is
only marginally less boring than watcing paint dry so this is the bit
where the headphones come in handy. If you have chosen the songs right
and nobody is looking you can even do a little boogie while you mix.
Then sift 100g (4oz) of potato starch (my corner shop sells it under
the name farina) and carefully fold it in a little at a time so it
doesn't make a great big clump which will turn into a layer of rubber
at the bottom of the cake. When you are done warm 3 tablespoons of rhum
and add to the cake mix. Put in the prepared tins and bake for 40
minutes.

While the cake is baking put the contents of a tin of
coconut milk and a tin of sweetened condensed milk in a saucepan with
more rhum (about 2 tablespoons), the zest of a lime and  2
tablespoons of cornflour.  Simmer gently until it thickens (keep
stiring so it doesn't catch at the bottom of the pan - especially if
you want to avoid the wrath of your favourite kitchen slave). One it is
about the consistency of a cheese sauce  put aside to cool down.

Open
a tin of pineapple chunks . While you do try to remember the cat is
likely to be somewhere around your ankles because the noise of the tin
opener is  the same as the word for food in cat language. Since it
is the third tin you are opening in a row without anything
materialising in the cat's bowl the animal will have lost all sense of
decorum and will do its best to try and trip you in the vain hope the
food in the tin is edible and will fall unto the floor ready to be
gulped.

Toast some shredded coconut in a non stick pan (about a
handfull). Watch it like a hawk as it has a habit of turning from white
as snow to badly burnt in seconds.

When the cakes are done, get
them out of the oven, spread about 1/4 of the coconut custard on the
first cake, add the pineapple pieces and then pour/spread another 1/4
of the custard on top, add the second cake and use the remaining
custard as a topping. Then sprinkle the toasted coconut on top. The end
result should look like this:

 pina colada flavour cake
10.7.05 22:12


Nice day for it

The Boy enjoyed his day out. We did as
planned, woke up late, had a big breakfast in the garden then took the
train to Waterloo. From there we strolled along the Thames to London
Bridge, took the Jubilee line to Canary Warf and then the DLR to Cutty
Sark aiming for Greenwich Park and the Observatory. The journey was the
opportunity for many a joke about green witches of course (8 year olds
have the most peculiar sense of humour) and I dutifully laughed at
every one of them.

ropes on the Cutty SarkThe Boy insisted we should get on board the Cutty Sark
so we did. I had been on it as a teenager but somehow in my memory it
was a lot bigger. The Boy tried to work out how many bushes of tea we'd
need to plant in the garden to keep me supplied for a year (too many)
and thoroughly enjoyed it.

We
then moved on to the Royal Naval College. The Boy spent a while looking
at the painted ceiling in the Painted Hall. A few minutes later when we
went to the National Maritime Museum he pulled me towards the wave
machine to demonstrate how he could make small waves and bigger ones
and we tried to work out which would be best for body boarding. Next
stop was the observatory by which point he was a bit too tired to take
the exibits in so we cut the visit short and made our way back to
Canary Warf to take the Thames clipper westbound and catch the train
home.

The observatory provided me with my daily dose of inner
giggle when a child asked his father who John Flamsteed was and the
father answered "the first astronaut". Greenwich we have lift off!
11.7.05 22:48


Not quite the fashion police but

The location Waterloo
Station this afternoon. Pretty girl wearing a lovely halterneck crochet
top. Nice colour complimenting her auburn hair. So far so good. No bra,
I can understand that, the straps would really spoil the line and if
that fiendish gravity isn't affecting you, you might as well make the
most of it.

Only it's a lacy pattern. Sorry but visible areola on
one side and nipple pocking through the lace on the other is a bit of a
hazard in the current climate. I found it slightly distracting and I
tend to prefer my dates with a Y chromosome. Imagine how many potential
threats the many policemen dotted around the station migh have missed
as she walked along....


15.7.05 20:21


The word of the day is:



Massaginist as overheard today



"I know what would make the muscles in my chest hurt less"

"Yeah, what?"

"A massage, is there a massaginist here?"
20.7.05 19:55


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