A Little surprise

I was surprised to get a text from Mr Him  warning advising me that there was a little something at home for me.


Warily I entered the house after a hard day in the office.  Mr Him was in the kitchen with a large grin on his face. I became waryer.


'I've made you supper,  it's in the fridge,' he said.


Now, you recollect my lunch on Saturday, dear reader. The lunch that involved slurping the icecream off the whisk. It appears it wasn't so discrete after all.






My supper, cake mix served on a whisk.

Mr Him had baked for his office and mine. These six were for us at home.
Ginger and cherry, using plain flour I feel obliged to explain.

The office gannets enjoyed.  On an efficiency front the office gannets have also been conveniently wormed for I had added wormer to the hens food.  Conveniently for me no egg withdrawal necessary.

Non Existent Coffee Icecream

Dear Reader, I had culinary intents for last weekend, to the  fear of Mr Him. Still I was not going to be swayed just because Mr Him suffers indigestion. My intentions involved the sun being out, my kitchen being lit by golden rays of that special sunshine in adverts, the climatic ambiance being warm and me being relaxed.  With the warmth and relaxation I would take on the air of Nigella herself. I would combine and stir ingredients, ingredients conveniently measured and held in readiness in little glass bowls, and the outcome would be a gastronomic wonder that the family would drool over.  Mr Him also had intentions.  His were that I would not cook. To this end he cancelled plans to go out for the day to ensure the culinary hurricane Anna did not strike. 

Indigestion is not his only complaint when I cook.  Mr Him's largest and most vocal complaint, and that's saying something when indigestion is its competition, is the splattering of gastronomic ingredients around the kitchen walls and counters. However this time I was to merely pour ingredients into my Kitchenaid and have it to do the work. 

I knew that Mr Him could not loiter in the kitchen all day.  He had torso showing and scythe hunting to do after all at some point.  I waited until he sloped off to the garden to play with  his new Heucheras.   I quickly set about pouring very calorific bovine products into the mixing bowl (500ml double cream and a can of condensed milk sweetened),  I added Tia Maria, I then added more Tia Maria, then for the coffee. Into the mixer 3 tablespoons of espresso powder and finally the Tia Maria. 

My kitchenaid was set to mix, fast and a mocha cream emerged before my eyes.   Did I forget the Tia Maria?

All I needed to do was add Tia Maria, spoon into containers and hide them in the freezer. 

Then get rid of the evidence. It was lunch time.  Ideal. 

My secret stash of homemade coffee Tia Maria icecream is ready for summer. Of course I can't share it with Mr Him as it doesn't exist.  What's more  I could honestly say I didn't cook.  The oven and stove were not utilised once. I am guilt free.




PS Mr Him doesn't touch coffee.  He will not be deprived. 

Scythes and Torsos

The sun is out, and so is Mr him's body parts, sadly.  It's become clear that it's been a huge mistake to let him watch Poldark.  The weekends now see him  jettisoning his shirt across the lawn,  mopping his brow and lurking half naked in the garden amongst his plug fuscias. 

The good news is that his newly aquired taste for the outdoor life and bared torso has him mowing (whilst muttering something about a scythe),  clearing out the shed (looking for a scythe),  requesting we visit the garden centre (to buy a scythe) and digging (for a buried  17th century scythe.)  Still the garden is looking lovely after his efforts. 

Silence Ensued

Talking of infobites, dear reader,  a few weeks ago I nibbled at a slice of an interview given by the the actress who played Sam in thingy,  you know the show that was about 4 women and had Mr Big. Oh and he's in Good Wife now. 

Excuse my 50 Shades of Grey brain. 

The actress who played Sam told us about a tv show she persuaded a Canadian network to run.  It sounded fun so I set it to record as now available in the UK.

The following day I discussed my dabble with colleagues.

Me 'I recorded something off Sky Arts yesterday. '  

Colleagues look in surprise at this display of culture and high style taste.  'What was it? '

Me, 'sensitive skin. '

'What's that about?' they ask expecting a literary gem to fall from my wizened mouth.

'The menopause. '

Conversation stopped.

I filled the silence quickly 'it's a comedy. '

Male colleague my age , 'it usually starts that way. '

An infomercial blog...for a change.

A learned weekend has been had.  As I completed household tasks I found myself information grazing. Not on purpose, dear reader.  I didn't set out to infogorge or put on mindweight.  Sometimes though  the mind can't help but snatch a bite.  I set out my knowledge crudités on a platter for you to help yourselves too.

Firstly I information grazed at the launderette.  Although we have a washing machine  I take large items to the an industrial washer.  This time I  picked up a magazine to browse and my mind grazed on the TV pages.  I nibbled at the review of  a New Zealand supernatural thriller on BBC3 called 'Tatua.' It is now set on record.

My second knowledge morsel was a bite of Saturday Kitchen as I cleaned the lounge.  I saw Nigella making coffee icecream.  In the UK it is pretty well impossible to get coffee icecream.  I know not why.  It is quite delicious and readily available in Europe.  Nigella used 4 ingredients, her kitchenaid and her freezer, and there is no churning necessary.  This is a recipe for me.  Google Nigella and coffee icecream. You will surely find this recipe.

Lastly I picked up a slice of another TV show recommendation.  A US blogger mentioned When calls the Heart and how she is hooked on it.  What was the chance of this unadvertised show being available in the UK?  Miraculously it is! Channel 5 USA is broadcasting series one and its available on 5 on Demand too.  I watched episode 1.  If you were an Anne of Green Gables  or Medicine Woman fan this is for you.  Its for me!

Bob

Dear Reader, last weekend I had an adventure with a pair of scissors.  The scissors were wielded in my kitchen by Audrey and they did wielding that surprised even me. Audrey arrives in our kitchen every six weeks.  She comes to the rescue of my tresses and the joy of Mr Him.  He likes to make her a coffee, regale her with tales and flaunt his wardrobe horrors delights.  I last entered a salon 10 years ago.  I had at that time booked myself highlights (£40) and cut (£40.) After the cut and colour I was charged £120 and questioned the price.  The receptionist said, 'but you had a dressing.'  I had a what! She went on to explain that I had had my hair dried.  That was it!  Hair salons no more.

So last Saturday Audrey arrived in her battle wagon conveying axes, secateurs, industrial oil based paints and a strong constitution to take on her 6 weekly challenge that is Anna. In the back of her wagon and with much praying she mixed the magical concoction that covered my grey. Grey! What grey?  Did I say that? 

With my grey covered and blended into highlights my mouth said the unthinkable. My mouth opened and uttered, 'I want to go shorter please.'  My hands joined the rebellion and pointed to my jawline.  'I'd like a bob.' 

 'ooooooh,' said Audrey, 'that's different.'  She was overwhelmed with excitement for my hair.

The deed was done. 

The young on line shopping genius said 'hmm, short.'  The sixteen year old said 'makes you look younger.'  (Win, correct answer.)  Mr Him is still in shock. What do I think of my Bob? I look like Dougal.  

If that analogy doesn't do it for you then picture a small triangular traffic warning sign on a stick.  

I caused Fifty Shades of Apoplectic

The title of my last blog caused a few discussions as you can imagine.

Title draft 1

Mr Him Flops

Mr Him choked and said 'you can't call it that. '

I saw his point.

Title draft 2

Mr Him Flops in the Bedroom

Mr Him was speechless and went a deep shade of apoplectic

Title draft 3

Mr Him Flops all over the bedroom

Mr Him breathed slightly more easily.   We had a winner.  He changed his t shirt.