When To Defrost?

On Sunday I helped my niece move house.
As we put her stuff away in the kitchen I pointed at the freezer and commented that it was the same make as mine and opened it to see if it was the same inside.
It was rather iced up and I chuckled about it, commenting that it was a good job that my niece was going to swap that freezer for hers.
She looked at me and said I hadn't seen anything yet.
Reaching for the fridge door she opened it and what I saw inside made me literally speechless.
I have never, never seen an icebox that is actually just ice. Or rather like the world's biggest snowball.
I mean really, this deserves a place in the Guinness Book of Records, right?
Holy Moly that's the mother of all ice balls.
I like the way it seems to be glowing.
Even in the desert that sucker would take the best part of a year to defrost!

Snapped

I broke my bed.
I loved that bed.
Look how beautiful it was:

What's worse? I wasn't even in bed when it broke, I was minding my own business when it made a deeply suspicious noise and the corner here nearest the camera looked distinctly wrong.
The problem? I had taken to swinging lightly on this corner as I went to bed - I like to sleep on the right, just so you know. So there I have been for the past few years gently swinging on that Gothic fleur de lys each time I passed it.
I didn't realise I was weakening the joint and on Friday it decided enough was enough and banished me to the spare room for the night.
I have been told it might be repairable and despite the difficulty in typing I am keeping my fingers crossed....

On Sunday I went to help my niece move and she had been looking for somewhere to store her bed and offered to let me have it whilst she doesn't need it! Result!
At about 11pm last night, in very muggy conditions I finally finished deconstructing one bed and constructing the new one. I cannot say how grateful I was to finally fall into bed.
I love being in bed, sleeping is never overrated. I would like to sleep more, I seem to be averaging around 4 or 5 hours at the moment and I miss the nights of 8 hours. 8 is where it's at.

Craic

So here's what's been going on:

I had a weird dream. A really weird dream. Actually I had two, but the second one faded to nothing and I'm really cross I forgot it.
However the first one was superbly surreal.
I dreamt that I had a baby. It was a little boy, I don't remember naming him but a short while later I'd misplaced the baby. Careless and anywhere other than a dreamworld, a really terrible thing! Anyway, I had another baby, this time it was a girl. It was only a little while later and I seem to remember that mid birthing process I decided I'd have a sleep and finish off in the morning. Very realistic obviously. So in the morning I had a baby girl. I was really stressed out because I couldn't decide on a name for her. Then I found the baby boy and both babies turned into cats. Weirdly the baby boy turned into Mifford - especially as Mifford is a female cat. I was really worried that the baby boy/Mifford wouldn't like the baby girl/other cat, especially as I hadn't named her, but then Mifford starting licking the face of the other cat and I was ecstatically happy.
That's weird right?

My choice for a belated Song of The Week is coming up, damn this is a seriously sexy song, there was one video that had some superb photography but I went with this one instead.

Jace Everett - Bad Things:


I've been out in the garden quite a lot, eating almost exclusively every evening from what I've picked fresh from the vegetable patch. Salad is one of my favourite things in the world! Also I've had to put in new sowings of various things. I want my allotment!
Speaking of which.... I took a wander round the village to post back one of my lovefilm dvd's and as I passed the village noticeboard I paused to see what was posted there. I found myself reading, thoroughly, the minutes of the recent Parish Council meeting. I read the whole thing and what worries me most is that I found it quite interesting.
I got to read a bit about what is happening as regards the allotments and it's good to know I might still be in the running for a wee plot of land. Fingers crossed.

Someone ran into my Sky dish. I have a caravan as my prime suspect. What was really a pain was that it was going to take almost a full week to get it repaired. Again. It's sited in a ridiculous place and is frequently getting bash by high vehicles. Anyway, the delightful engineer arrived early on Saturday morning and moved the dish to a location that will require incredible ingenuity to be hit with anything at all. Oh how I missed my TV!

But, on the plus side, it did mean that I found time to sit and watch the entire box set of My So-Called Life. I am obviously deeply in love with Jordan Catalano again. What's rather disturbing is that, as this came out originally in 1994, I am now closer in age to the parents in the series than the kids. Crap. Back then, they were twice my age, now they're just 5 years older. Crap.

Oh, the other week I went to see the Battlefield Band! My last gig for a while, but on the upside I do have Cambridge Folk Festival in just over a week! Must be getting near the time where I have to start choosing my outfits! The weather forecast is not looking pretty so I suspect a lot of my outfits will be revolving around wellies. What looks good with wellies? Hmm? Anyone?
Yeah, nothing.
Can you even dance in wellies? This remains to be seen. Although to be fair, I'm not so sure that I dance so much as flail wildly and jump around. I'm not sure about my ability to dance a ceilidh in wellies though... what a shame there will be no video of my attempts.

I'm attempting to slowly take down my hateful conifer hedge. I don't strictly have permission to do so, so am attempting a very definite trim of the hedge in the hope it won't survive. If you feel like lopping off a few branches, please don't hesitate to pop over, for I shall not hesitate in handing to you the loppers! I'm wildly generous that way.
Mum is coming to stay for a while so I'll offer to let her cut some hedge too. See, my generosity knows no bounds.

Oh and finally, I have not sustained any new injuries! Remember that incident with the hand blender and my finger? The fingernail dropped off. Nice eh? Not in a gross way though - which is what I was really worried about. The slashed nail grew until finally it was too weak to carry on. It was a bit misshapen for a while but I think it's actually going to be ok, I'm sure that's a massive relief for everyone. I will have normal (ish) fingernails. Well, until the next time I do myself an injury that is....

Cats & Ducks

Thursday last week, I made my way down to Bristol to watch The Cat Empire. Always superb live and great high energy fun.
With the exception of missing one junction - which I will continue to blame on poor road signs - I made it without a problem, even driving into the city centre and finding my destination without a wrong turn. Without sat nav. Not half bad!
Met up with Siobhan and Aaron and we went for a pizza dinner, trying out the one of the new Leggera pizzas. God, just the word pizza makes me hungry.
Afterwards we headed to the venue and made our way in, taking up my traditional spot towards the front.
The support came on and were pretty good.
I told Siobhan that Felix in the Cat Empire was beautiful. She asked whether he was really beautiful, or just my idea of beautiful.
I think she might be trying to infer that I have occasionally unusual taste in men.
I assured her he really was very beautiful.
The band took to the stage, I pointed at the stage and said "That's Felix".
"Oh my God, that's like a real life Patrick Dempsey" she said, then turned to Aaron and continued "I'm sorry, but I might have to leave you".
Look how beautiful he is:

That man was standing just feet from me and I was able to contain myself. That's self control I tell you.
And for your viewing pleasure, here they are live, doing one of my favourite songs, in fact the chorus is my ringtone on my phone.
Oh, and check out the dude in black on the trumpet. That's Harry. I wouldn't be turning him down either! Plus that Harry, he can really scat.

A little bit of the lovely Harry (I'm generous today eh?):


So, after they came on stage the crowd got a little, well crowded, a lot of pushing and shoving commenced. After a song or two Aaron decided to bow out and during the next song, Siobhan and I nearly ended up getting pushed over. I grabbed her wrist and despite her declarations that she was fine I insisted it wasn't safe and we made an exit. Or rather I shoved a number of people and trampled on a lot of feet. We headed upwards and watched the gig from tv screens and where I was free to dance like a dervish, as is my wont.
Despite the crush at the front I had a splendid time.
When they did The Chariot (the first video) it went to an instrumental in the middle before suddenly morphing into Billie Jean, which was awesome. None of the band sang the verses but as it moved into the chorus the whole crowd started singing. I sorely missed someone doing a moonwalk but it was just brilliant, as they morphed back into The Chariot, Felix said they felt he deserved a tribute and it was an excellent one.

Post gig we headed back to Siobhan & Aaron's place where I kipped for the night, before heading home at lunchtime.
I again missed the damn junction, for the exact same road, but this time, brilliantly, I managed to not only miss the junction but then get caught up in the tailback following a small pile-up. And thus welcomed an extra couple of hours on to my journey.

Finally made it home in time for tea and started preparations for the picnic I'd arranged for Saturday. Only a small affair, but as it was the annual Dunston Duck Races I thought it would be a laugh for some of my mates to come over and bet on a duck or two.
So, at 11pm on Friday night, I was busy whipping up a couple of batches of cupcakes. I'll be uploading the recipe for the cupcakes with mascarpone & fruit on my cookery blog soon and you must try them, find any excuse you can, they were just so very, very good.

Saturday rolled around and it was picnic time, I took a sack trolley and made my way up to the green, laid out blankets and started to feast. To begin with it wash just Rachael and I as it was also a massive airshow just down the road and traffic was rather heaving. I suspect we looked quite funny with this enormous amount of food and just the pair of us, bit by bit other folks showed up. The kids ran up and down the beck, slowly getting wetter and wetter, but it was so warm that they seemed to dry almost as quickly. There's something about kids just jumping around in water, free fun and they make seemingly endless games out of it!

A little while later the races commenced. I bet on races 4 and 5.
Below is my duck, number 43. It's safe to say that this little grouping of ducks is towards the rear. I was in no danger of winning.

These would be the ducks making it under the finish line. Mine was still feasting on weeds or stuck behind an obstacle. Quite frankly number 43 let me down.
Truth be told, my bet on number 7 didn't go any better either. Ah well, it's a good job I'm not a gambler.

I managed to get a wonderful circular spot of sunburn on my back, having not thought through the keyhole part of my top very well. I just can't reach there with suncream!

Everyone but Rachael made their way home after the racing had finished. Rachael and I headed to my garden where we reopened the picnic leftovers. There was more feasting. I had made fresh lemonade and some elderflower cordial but Mifford wasn't allowed any, so as not to be outdone, she found her own sweet nectar:
Got to love a bit of watering can water, although that might only apply if you are a cat, or Mifford.
Once the sun started to cool, we headed in and watched Transporter 3, which I enjoyed. I know it's not a good movie, but I do like the Transporter movies, they make me laugh and the violence is just so wonderfully choreographed!

A final couple of notes. I totally ran over the big toe on my left foot with the sack trolley, I cannot tell you how that smarted. I did well not to curse in a number of different languages.
So, on Sunday my big toe was clearly swollen and I therefore decided that the ideal way to proceed would be to stub my little toe and hard. So hard it went a purple/black shade and I wondered for some time if I'd actually broken it.
It's a talent.

That's all for now folks, I have to go pick tea from the garden.
Oooh, it's raining and the sun is out, I also have to go see the rainbow.
I'm easily excited, me.

In The Kitchen Or Not....

Whichever way you look at it, Mifford just can't take the heat: Poor love.