Personal Blogs

In the past few weeks I’ve been trying to drum up some enthusiasm for getting out into the world and meeting people. Trouble is, I’m not really, unlike Reggie Perrin’s son-in-law Tom, a ‘People Person’. I’m more of a Reggie, really; i.e. socially intolerant and given to wild ranting over petty annoyances. And the problem with meeting people face to face in situations that may be repeated and where you are likely to come face to face with the same people again is that you can’t really rant freely in your blog about the petty things they have done which annoy you. Like breathing. Or wanting froth on their coffee. Or buying Panini with ‘red onion marmalade’ without laughing out loud at the pretentiousness of it and asking the vendor ‘can I have two dollops of relish with my roll, please’. I found myself biting my tongue quite a bit, to the point that it started hurting and I bit the edge of the table instead. I left two crowns embedded in the tabletop when I stopped, which while commendable as an indicator of personal restraint adds up to a pretty expensive morning out, even without the Panini and red-onion marmalade.

Talking of food, though, I went to a ‘food market’ last weekend – you know, those things where people pull up in their Chelsea tractors and set up stalls selling stuff they buy in Waitrose decanted into home-labelled plastic bags with a two-hundred percent mark up on them. Mostly it was crap, but I did buy some nice wet garlic (yum yum), some overpriced but quite tasty Toulouse sossidges (sold to me by a French midget in a top hat and paint-spattered overalls , so I think they were very authentic) and two portions of traditional Jamaican Jerk chicken from a lovely West Indian lady who, rather disappointingly, informed me that the ‘secret’ of her jerk sauce was a teaspoonful of Bisto granules. Bisto or no, it was very, very nice, and I made up a lovely batch of Rice and Peas (or, as Levi Roots or a very un-pc stand up comedian might put it ‘Rhaas an Peirs’) to go with it. Unfortunately the black eyed beans gave Ben and me terrible wind, so we’ve been ‘Rude Boys’ all weekend. Ben also got a bit sick of me doing the ‘Jamaica – No she wanted to go’ routine, which is obligatory in my house whenever anything even hinting of the West Indies comes on our TV or cooker. I have my own steel drum and everything, and a lovely bunch of coconuts to boot. I don’t get many opportunities to give them an airing so they’re looking a bit jaded if I’m honest – all of the hairs have dropped off and I think the milk inside has curdled. I s’pose I should invest in some new ones really, but as they’re only ornamental these days it seems a bit extravagant. For the odd occasion I do have occasion I tend to go desiccated and just add water... keeps fresh for longer, especially if kept in well burped tuppaware. I’ve just thought, actually – the cat’s moulting at the moment, so next weekend rather than hoovering it up i’ll just cover my nuts in superglue and roll them around on the carpet. If that doesn’t fluff ‘em up a bit nothing will!

Oh well... life and the kettle call...

L8rs t8rs

:D