The Perfect Mug is Biscuit Width

How many of us have gone to pursue that great British tradition of biscuit dunking, only to find that the mug is not wide enough for the average digestive? This results in some selective breaking up of the tea time morsel OR having to be satisfied with an initial 2cm dip.


I LOVE MY MUG. My Asda purchase is not only great in terms of colour and price, but is the perfect width for a digestive. One can dip, dip and dip again revelling in the smug feeling that there are others in the world with narrow mugs.

HA HA HA

And the winner is…..BUDGET TOOTHPASTE!!

For years and years and maybe a few more years, I had always been put off by the idea of shops own budget toothpaste, thinking that the product was less likely to contain these magic ingredients always splashed over the adverts for Colgate and Aquafresh! However I have recently discovered that most of these ‘posh’ and very expensive toothpastes are not actually approved by the British Dental Health Foundation . This is the leading UK-based independent oral health charity and aims to help people improve their oral health (ooo go them).

Anyway it was highlighted (thanks ‘mrs’) that there are some toothpastes out there which are approved; denoted by this logo.

One of these approved products is Tescos own. They do a huge range of own brand toothpastes most of which are approved (worth double checking the back). The best thing for me, is this toothpaste is literally a quarter of the price of well known brands like Colgate. So GO budget GO! Good for me, my teeth and my wallet.

Sorry if this sounds like an advert, but thought I would share this news with the world. Happy brushing!

1....2.....cha cha cha

So what have myself and the ‘mrs’ been getting up to these days to improve our social life? Have we been adorning fluorescent jackets and raving it up with our glow sticks? Close, but no cigar. As the title of the entry might have suggested we have been tripping the light fantastic with ‘ballroom for beginners’.

So far we have had 3 lessons (only an hour each) and are slowly coming to grips with the ‘cha cha cha’, the ‘rhythm foxtrot’ and the ‘quick step’. It is a small group, as the women who runs it (I think she’s Dutch, but the ‘mrs’ thinks somewhere in Europe), didn’t want to advertise her sessions because she is normally so over subscribed. Without sounding like a big bag of boastfulness, out of the 12 participants, I do honestly think we are the best. Well the best going in a straight line. We haven’t quite mastered the art of going round corners, resulting in much pulling and shoving trying to avoid dancing out the door! We do enjoy ourselves and like to have a bit of fun, being over expressive with our hand gestures (NOT RUDE ONE). Our ‘jazz hands’ are a point of amusement for the older participants. It would be nice to live on the ground floor, so we could practise without the wrath of the neighbour underneath complaining about the ‘elephants’ upstairs!

We are getting to grips with turns, shuffles, promenades and the lock step. Next week we shall be exploring the world of the pivot turn; talk about living on the edge.

Being two females, one of use has to take on the mans role, which is me. As you can tell this picture is not us. She looks like she has a broken back; more a picture of murder I think. Anyway being 'the man', means that for one hour a week I am in charge. I can lead and can tell her what to do (oooo I hope she doesn’t read this). Despite only being an hour, it’s is proving to be quite good exercise, and a little bit sweaty around the hairline. The hardest part is that the class starts at 9pm; just the time when you want to snuggle down in nice post-dinner fullness adorning a nice set of pyjamas. But when you are young ravers like us, you expect to be out late once in a while!

So here I am signing off.....cha cha cha

The Big Day!

Yesterday was the ‘mrs’ 29th birthday, and I feel a good time was had by all. After all, all the right ingredients were there:

* balloons in various colours and sizes
* streamers
* party hats
* those noisy things you blow
* a homemade cake

Fortunately for me (and not for her) she had to go to work in the morning, which gave me ample opportunity to make a cake. Now I am a cake novice. I have many many skills in cake consumption; especially those of the walnut layered and carrot variety, but making is a no no. Earlier in the week I had consulted the Queen i.e. Delia online, for some spiritual guidance. According to many, making a sponge is a complicated affair, with bits to add here, then cream, then bits to add there, all beautifully timed using the wisdom of Tibetan monks. Being the impatient sort, and lucky for me, the owner of a £6.99 electric whisk, I decided to follow the gurus idea of the ‘all in one’ (http://www.deliaonline.com/cookery-school/how-to/how-to-make-all-in-one-sponge,13,AR.html). Now any recipe that advises you to bung all the ingredients in a bowl and just go ‘whzzzzzzzz’ with the electric whisk is the one for me.

After mixing the ingredients and getting 40% of the mixture up the walls, I carefully spooned this sweet smelling concoction into 2 recently purchased sandwich cake tins (lined using pre-historic GCSE cookery skills). Into the oven it went for 30 minutes while I paced nervously up and down the flat, like an expectant father. After this time had elapsed, I ran to the kitchen to view my creation. Oh the smell was amazing. I could have gobbled it up there and then and pretended I hadn’t got round to making a cake. But in my effort to be a good girlfriend, I left well alone.

After cooling, filling with posh black cherry jam and smothering with BLUE butter icing (again recipe from the BBC), I was ready for the sprinkles! Now some will tell you sprinkles are just sprinkles, but NO, there are many subtle varieties. Originally I was going to use hundreds and thousands; a ‘mrs’ favourite. But during recent scientific exploration it has been discovered that the slightly cylindrical ‘sugar strands’, are much more the order of the day. Not wanting to do things by a halves I gleefully dumped an entire pot over the waiting butter icing. These sprinkles will stick to anything; food, fingers, socks, work tops, walls, floors, clothes and anything else in a 5m radial vicinity. After crunching my way round the kitchen the creation was finally finished.

When she returned from the work, we conducted the traditional societal ceremony of lighting the candles, singing of the song and the applause at the end. In a bid to be amusing, I had used re-lighting candles, that always seemed so magical as a child. As an adult you are less concerned with the magic, and more worried about the massive clouds of smoke created each time you blow and whether the smoke alarm will be activated. Oh I am SO getting old!

After lunch and a quick unscheduled snooze on the sofa, we went down town (feel free to sing at this point), for the 4.30 appointment with a massage therapist which I had a bought as one of my gifts i.e. ‘the experience’ gift. During the procedure, I sat in the waiting area thumbing through copies of ‘hair and beauty’, wondering how ANYONE could expect to live up to the ideology that is being sold. By the time I had finished an article on ‘your acrylic nails and you’ (a nomination for the Pulitzer no doubt), she had finished and looked very relaxed and a bit oily.

Not wishing to go back to the flat quite yet, and fall into the trap of crap food and telly, we decided to take full advantage of living by the sea and have a wonder down for a sit on the beach. After 15 minutes or so of appreciating the view and thinking how lucky we were, we decided to brave the wind and laughter of the drunk homeless people behind us, and go for a paddle. We removed our shoes and socks, rolled up our jeans and proceeded with caution and Indiana Jones style bravery. After a good 40 minutes of running in, running out, laughing and the odd squeal, we made our way back to the car trying to ignore the wet jeans, wet tops and wet pants, but revelling in the weird looks we were receiving.

After squelching our way back to the flat, we showered to remove the ‘sea bugs’ (if you have ever looked at a drop of sea water under the microscope you’ll know what I mean), and settled down for a birthday dinner of fresh pizza and strawberry cheesecake, topped off with some crap Big Brother Telly.

The evening was rounded off by downloading the pictures from day, laughing at getting soaked and dozing off on the sofa. To bed we went after what was a really fun day! I shall make it a point not to wait for special occasions to do silly things. People of the world unite in their silliness!

It is Better to Give than Receive

Now, now; not like that! I love birthdays! But only other peoples, choosing to dislike my own and generally portray a grumpy old women. I get so excited and often spend a long time thinking about the best gift and the provision of treats, even if the end result does not match the contemplation period.

In my opinion birthdays, and even Christmas, should never be about money. It should never be about setting out to spend as much as they did on you. What is the point in that? It’s so calculating and materialistic. I knew someone at school who would never give any gifts at Xmas, until she had received presents, thus giving time to look up the value in the Argos catalogue – that is just SO wrong on many different levels.

Birthdays are always difficult if you have been out of touch with someone for a long time. Although you may still care about them, you lose touch as to what really makes them happy, or you plain forget the event! I have been guilty of that. :( In such cases you often get what I call ‘lazy’ gifts. Lazy gifts include:

* Box of chocolates
* Alcohol
* Scented candles
* Gift voucher (THE WORST)
* Pretty stationary (although do people write anymore?)

Now some may ask why I didn’t include socks in this list? Well for me, a pair of bright and well chosen socks is always a pleasure and a fantastic addition to the sock drawer. It’s not that any of the above items are ‘bad’ gifts, but they are ‘I don’t know what to get you, or I haven’t had time’ gifts; unless of course you have a genuine passion for candles and WH Smiths vouchers!

However when it comes to someone you know well, love and really care about, birthdays are a whole different ball game. In this case birthdays are all about effort and not financial outlay. Although I am hardly a creative person, I do like to make presents that is specific to that person. For example for my best friends birthday earlier in the year I (along with help from my Dad) spent many hours decorating some crockery with images of our time together on our last holiday. The drawing was decidedly dodgy, but I feel it’s childlike quality provided amusement if nothing else.

Aside from personal creativeness, ‘experience’ gifts are always good, such as a tank driving day or 4x4 driving lessons; although hugely expensive and only for ultra special occasions. Whether going on an adventure or making a homemade present, both serve the purpose of creating a memory. At the end of the day, you are more likely to remember and cherish the brightly coloured pasta necklace or the picnic in the park 10 years later, than receiving the latest ‘Greatest bump n grind mega hits’. Something with a bit of thought is more preferable to the ‘panic’ buy in Tescos on the way home from work on the day; yes you know who you are!

Don’t get me wrong, I am NOT bothered about my own birthday and couldn’t care sixpence about gifts. I just feel if someone really cares then surely we all deserve 5 minutes of thought. I am quite happy with a cup of tea in bed, a kiss and a drawing for the fridge! I would like to say that I always put in effort for every birthday, but I can't. But I am trying to get better!

I hope after reading this the ‘mrs’ doesn’t feel pressurised! It’s her birthday tomorrow, and I really hope she likes her gifts and ‘experience’. I can’t say any more as she will probably read this before then; so ssshhhhhh!!!

Green Thumbs

Well well well, looks like I finally entered the world of horticulture. Living in a first floor flat with a concrete balcony does make stretching the green thumbs rather difficult. However I have discovered that even if you do not invite nature into your life, it manages to fight it’s way in.

Let me introduce you to, Oscar, my new best friend.

As you can see Oscar is, in my botany experience, a plant. It has leaves, a true root system and looks a nice colour of green in the right light. So now I have a social life, with Oscar and I being the balcony crew….yo yo yo!! The ‘mrs’ is of course the ring leader as she spends more time on the balcony.

I will let you all know how my gang life is progressing on da’ balcony. Secret hand shakes to you all!

Save Yourselves!!

Is it possible for a common herb to take over the world? My thoughts this tea break is that this indeed could be a reasonable hypothesis. So what is the evidence for this bold and slightly hysterical statement? THIS:

Now although it might not look much to you dear readers, but this jungle of mint was bought as a tiny potted herb from Tesco only 5 days ago. Since then it has demanded daily watering, daily rotation away from the sun for even growth and my constant attention. In just those 5 days it has grown from a finger high herb to the size of my whole hand span. At this rate by next year I think it would have conquered the South East, by the end of 2008 the UK (although some parts of Scotland may be too cold) and in 2009 its tendrils will soon be penetrating Europe.

So hear is my plea; either RUN and save yourselves or make sure mint sauce is a condiment served with EVERY meal. Left unchecked, who knows what this green monster could do. You have been warned. Audrey II eat your heart out!

I'm A Widow - WAAAA!

That is a football widow! According the wikepedia (a source of much time wasting), a football widow is “is a term for those who have a relationship with a sports fan”; this is me!

Being a supportive and loving partner I have tried to enter into the spirit by watching my first game a few weeks ago. I did everything I was supposed to. I had a bungey sofa, some alcohol, pizza and chocolate. I had practised some phrases given to me by friends and the ‘mrs’, such as “Chelsea, you cheating bastards”, “oi ref. are you blind”, “ooo that was off-side” and “how can you justify your salary”. I tried to make appropriate “oo” and “ah” noises when the ball was near the net thing, despite not knowing which colour I was supposed to be rooting for. Despite all my efforts and revision, the most positive thing I can say about that football match was how lovely the lawns man had kept the pitch.

What I really don’t understand about football is there is so much of the bloody stuff. I settled down a few weeks ago to the FA cup final. “Cool”, I thought, the final, so no more football. But wouldn’t you know it, the following week was the Champions League final; another final! Yet again this evening there is even more of the stuff on the telly with a ‘friendly’ between England and Brazil. What does that actually mean? Does it mean they all swap phone numbers and share a bowl of jelly and ice cream at half time?

On that matter where are the oranges at half time? I suppose these overpaid high flyers now have high tech oranges made by Microsoft!

Now I am not complaining that she has a love of football, after all I have some hobbies that she doesn’t share; such as covering my food with Canderel. In the words of Belinda Carlisle; “oo heaven is a place on Earth”. As a side point, can you believe she is going to be 50 next year; fancy that!

Anyway I don’t begrudge her interest in football, as I know that if it came down to it I would take priority…..HA, IN YA FACE BECKHAM! O.k. well maybe not Beckham as she thinks he’s such a pretty boy, and has expressed a desire to have him as a house ornament along with Justin Timberlake. We could empty out their skulls, drill holes in their heads and have human condiments – cool!

So please, when you’re sitting enjoying your football, pies and larger, spare a thought of us widows out there!