Meme - What's in my pockets

The contents of my pockets
  • Keys to the flat and the garage hooked to a flashlight carabiner keyring and a memento from the Ben and Jerry's festival (when eat as much ice cream as you want is a challenge and yes I was disappointed I only managed to eat 10 cones and an ice cream sandwich, how terrible not to quite make it a dozen flavours)
  • Network Card wallet containing my Network card (obviously) and freshly topped up oystercard
  • Oystercard wallet containing all sorts of cards: credit card, cash card, library card, organ donor card, various used train tickets and receipt but no oystercard.
  • Da pod, with a freshly renewed contents of 429 songs but currently alternating 3 on repeat: Mademoiselle K's "reste là"; the High Llamas' "Period music" and Julian Velard's "Jimmy Dean and Steve McQueen"
  • A half empty packet of Japanese grape flavoured gummies, so overpriced but the texture is oh so right.
  • Train ticket to come home from MFC's this morning because you still cant use your oystercard for that.
  • Ticket for last night's Ladytron gig at ULU. Very enjoyable despite no "Ladybird", the slowest bar queue in history and having to trade off sound quality for bearable levels of heat.

Right I guess I'd better get on with sorting out the pictures we took in Vimy last week-end and upload them before I get nagged for it.
1.9.07 15:46


Sunday in a few words

Body boarding on not so good waves , giving up the board for simple splashing about, seal costumes wet suits,  a very chilly Canuck (honestly it isn't my mission in life to make MFC suffer hypothermia and 17o is a perfectly reasonable temperature for the sea to be at, especially when wearing neoprene insulation), Camber Sands , A roads and B roads, creepy cat, chicken chips and gravy, carrying enough sand home to fill a bath tub.
3.9.07 22:25


I'm such a classy chick me.

When I booked tickets to see Julian Velard , there were 3 London dates I could choose from.

It came to no surprise to My Favourite Canuck that I should pick the one date where the venue doubles up as a strip club, complete with red velvet walls, huge guilded mirrors, guilded celings, beaded drapes, sitting booths with orange globe lights on the tables and  poles.

I must be getting old and too fond of my creature comforts though because as venues go "more than just a touch seedy" but with comfy seats cosy enough to snuggle, good sound and nice cocktails wins over the sticky floors, dodgy smells, variable acoustics and sweaty atmosphere of the likes of Brixton Academy or ULU.

Even the support band put on a good show. What more could a girl want? 

It's going to be a while before Jimmy Dean and Steve Mc Queen comes off my pod's playlist. 

 
11.9.07 10:35


Catching up

When friends move to new lands far far away, all right, all right, I'll rephrase, when friends move that little bit further down the M4 visits become less frequent and it's a real shame because there's nothing like spending the day with friendly people to make life that little bit nicer.

The silver lining is though that having friends who live in the country offers the opportunity for a nice walk along the Thames and for The Boy to try out his civil engineering skills. Give children a clear, paddling depth stream and their dam building instincts kick in, I guess little boys must share some genetic material with beavers.

As an extra bonus I get to play with photoshop on my return home, figuring out a way to post a picture of the kids displaying their rock moving/water containing/ splashing about talents without giving too much away.

Civil engineering
12.9.07 16:34


Return of the lazyness field

Castle 1

The Very Demanding Important Person has returned home so there's no driving to castles and church (fun as it was to send MFC and The Boy down the dungeon and to have girly moments imagining how great it would be to have so many window seats to chose from to curl up and read and your very own library) and finding alternative mass locations because the service has been canceled.

The plan or lack thereof was wake up when the need for tea was too great to stay in bed any longer, tend to thirst and hunger and slouch about the flat in various states of no outside clothes' on-ness and let The Boy roam in his pyjamas from the computer to the television and to the bean bag with a book.

The plan went a bit off the rails saturday afternoon when the door bell rang at around half past 3. The Boy was promptly despatched to check who the visitor was and ran down the stairs with all the grace of a baby elephant circa Fantasia. As he trampled down the stairs in his stylish jungle animal jammas, a door opened and a rather surprised estate agent lady blurted out "I knocked first, the agency said I could let myself in if I knocked first".

I popped my head round the corner and held back and said "hello" instead of "it might have helped if you'd waited more than 2 and a half seconds between ringing the bell and letting yourself in to give people a chance to answer the door". "Did you not get the message about the viewing", "huh no, can you give me 5 minutes so we can get dressed?".

She holds back on the incredulous look while I mutter about trying to call people on the landline if the mobile is switched off being a better way to find out if they are around than leaving a voice mail on said switched off mobile and rush to awake napping MFC.

Fast forward 5 minutes and estate agent lady has made her way in with not 1, not 2, not 3 but 4 people in tow, one of whom is bearing a big camera and is snapping away merrily. MFC, the Boy and I have retreated into the living room since it was too late to make a quick escape and MFC declares that my autism is showing.

Only one cure for it... a change of plan from indoors lazy to outdoors for beer then a quick trip to New Malden for Korean food to soothe away the the estate agent induced stress. One should never underestimate the power of a dolsot bibimbap and kimchi on the frazzled mind.
23.9.07 18:39


First impressions

It had to be done. The VIP had brought a pack over from .ca, it could not remain an object of curiosity for ever.

MFC boiled the pasta, mixed the milk, the butter and the bright orange powder. He also insisted ketchup was a must but not for me thank you.

First encounter

So the verdict?

  • Whoa it's bright
  • Hey it doesn't taste half as bad as it looks
  • cheeeeeeeeese-ey
24.9.07 22:59


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