Visit To Brackley

A fine sunny Saturday morning, which meant we didn't want to be stuck indoors. After some consideration as to where we could visit, we decided to visit Brackley, which is where we were heading last weekend when we ended up at Buckingham Garden Centre just as the weather became stormy and we got no further. Brackley is one of those places that we shoot past on the dual-carriageway and seem to ignore. You see it signposted but never seem to visit. I think it would have been one of the places you would have driven through in days past. We are surprised at how much petrol costs at the moment: around 99p a litre, so we filled up at Morrison's service station on the way past. I think everyone else was doing the same when we got there as there was quite a queue of vehicles when we turned in.

A rather attractive door which caught my eye and photographed for no other particular reason in Brackley.

So we drove away from Milton Keynes along Standing Way and eventually to Buckingham and out on the road to Brackley. This is a town we haven't visited before, but I had an idea it would suit us as it is one of the locations used in many of the television antiques shows we watch on television, such as Bargain Hunt and Antiques Road Trip. We managed to park the car just off the main street and walked towards the centre of this attractive town, first visiting a very well-stocked book shop. Try and keep either of us out of such places is quite difficult as we always seem to gravitate towards books and bookshops. We could have spent quite a bit in there, but we resisted the temptation. At least, we know another independent bookshop when we want one. As much as we like Amazon and being able to buy books online, and the ease of finding what you want, nothing really beats being able to browse books in a bricks-and-mortar bookshop. We then went into a branch of Costa, which was virtually opposite the bookshop and then found a rather convenient map of the town in a square outside Costa. We had an idea that there was a large antique centre somewhere in the town (used in Bargain Hunt.) and found it on the map, so we followed the directions on the map and found it wasn't far. It turned out to be a particularly large and very well stocked place and Carol saw and then purchase a rather nice glass rabbit ornament, similar in style to Lalique glass, and for a very reasonable price. On our way back to the car we found a really nice shop which sold all manner of original artwork and had a chat with the young lady who owned it. She told us about Brackley Artisan Market which was coming up on the 3rd April from 10 a.m to 3 p.m. in the market Square and something we might very well come back to visit as it sounded the sort of thing we'd enjoy.

Gas Boiler Replaced

On Saturday morning, I decided I needed to find out what the position was regarding the boiler being replaced or repaired so I rang the landlord. His wife replied and said we'd be telephoned when he came back. No doubt going to the different plumbing stores to get prices for a new boiler. We had been told that it wasn't actually worth repairing and as such wouldn't get the safety certificate in it's current state. We got a call around 45 minutes later to tell us that he had got a company to come out for Monday morning to install the new boiler. We were keeping our fingers crossed that this was actually happening. As a result, we decided we needed to get out of the house. Carol's week off, for Half-Term has been somewhat spoilt by the problems we've had regarding the boiler. If we hadn't had to search around to find the landlord, wait for him to find a gas company to check the old installation and then find someone to install a new boiler, we might have done far more, going out and about as we usually do during school breaks. Just hope things will have improved for the next holiday period in the next few weeks, which will be  the Easter break.

We did what we often do when we need a refresher, and that was to drive out of Milton Keynes and find somewhere to visit and possibly get a spot to eat and drink. We had favoured Brackley, which is on road west of Buckingham and a place now by-passed so you miss easily when you drive past, so it seemed an ideal place to visit and wander around as it is supposed to have antique shops and is used occasionally on television shows such as Antiques Road Trip and Bargain Hunt, two television shows we watch and quite enjoy. By the time we reached Buckingham, the weather was rapidly changing, the rain-clouds were gathering and a rain storm was imminent. Beyond Buckingham, we came to a garden centre, which we have visited before and been into the restaurant. This was Buckingham Garden Centre. I know, a not exactly imaginative name, but I suppose it accurately incorporates the name of the town into it's name. We were not disappointed with the restaurant and were glad we went in as the rain began to pour down outside.

Moving on toMonday: the gasfitters arrived to install the new boiler. The dogs became somewhat confused by the appearance of the strangers in the house. Alfie spent most of the day really stressed out, whining and barking. I had hoped to keep both dogs in the lounge, but during the morning, Poppy got out through the front door. How she escaped without being detected I have no idea, but I went out into the estate and couldn't see her anywhere. I had looked in all the usual places she goes when she wants to be on her own, for example, under our bed, in the garden and behind the sofa. But no signs. Fortunately our neighbour, Gary, came go my assistance, and we eventually tracked her down to the park and she was returned safely to our house. Alfie meanwhile had been put on his lead and put in the bedroom, which he didn't like and made an awful noise until I went to stay with him for an hour or two which made him calm down, fortunately.
It took until around 6 o'clock for the workmen to complete the installation of the new boiler and to tidy up and leave by which time Carol had returned to work and she had a bath. Thankfully we now can say the job is complete after a very nerve-wracking week. 

Boiler Dies . . What Next?

It was no good believing it was going to last for long. The boiler had been on for most of yesterday, and by the time we went to bed it had given up and there was the red light flashing away and the confounded thing wouldn't re-start. I have telephoned the engineer who came out yesterday, but unfortunately, he can do nothing without the landlord's permission! So the house is once colder and no sign of it being warmed up until things are resolved with the boiler. I have left a message on the landlord's voicemail and I don't expect to get any sort of answer until he comes into work later this afternoon. We drove over to Bicester this morning. Carol had been looking at cameras after the Olympus she had was damaged some while ago. We went back to the camera shop and have bought a camera for her birthday (which is at the beginning of March.) It's a Ricoh camera along with a bright orange case for it and it seems rugged and should withstand fairly rough treatment, but I suggest she doesn't use it when we are out with the dogs because it was Alfie, our Yorkshire Terrier, who caused the other camera to get dropped when we went to Rushmere country park some while ago. He does get quite excited and jumped up when he saw the strap on the Olympus camera, no doubt thinking it was his lead.

The weather has been really cold and wet as we drove out towards Bicester. After buying the camera, we went into Costa for hot chocolate and then into Sainsbury's in Pioneer shopping centre for some shopping before heading back to the car and home to Milton Keynes via Buckingham.

At around 4.30 I got a telephone call from our landlord to inform us that he is going to have to replace the boiler. He has someone coming tomorrow to have a look at the old model so that he can give a quote for a new boiler. He now tells me that we're not likely to have any hot water and heating again until at least Monday at the earliest as it will take until then to have a new boiler installed. So we are shivering and doing without baths, showers and being able to wash up, making do with a very small electric heater on in the lounge. Oh well, at least, it is being dealt with and we should eventually have a better, newer boiler to replace the clapped-out model we currently have to contend with.

The Gasman Came to Call

''It was on a Tuesday morning, the gasman came to call . . .' to misquote the famous Flanders and Swann comic song. Infact he came well before 9 o'clock and part-way through the morning a second man arrived. We had been informed by our landlord that he had a second company coming, at around 10 o'clock, so I was wondering what would happen when they arrived. It turned out that the second set of workmen didn't materialise. I also had to cope with the landlord phoning every half hour or so (it probably wasn't so often, but it did seem so.) to see whether they had arrived and what they were doing and to be kept up-dated about progress. They went off twice to buy parts and eventually we were told that the boiler was working. We were then told that it might not work for long. Also, that it might need replacing or at least have more parts replaced. So, we have to have a second visit because the workmen still need to do a safety check so we have the annual certificate (which we should have received ages ago.) We await our landlord's decision as to whether he needs to replace the confounded boiler with a brand, spanking new one or have only the necessary new parts installed. The excitement is too much and we just can't wait but it is great to at least have hot water and a warm house again.

Boiler Problem . . . Almost Sorted

We spent a particularly cold night. No heating doesn't help. We considered our options. We had mentioned the situation with Mark Sherratt, pastor of our church, Milton Keynes Christian Centre, on Sunday morning, which was before we'd attempted to contact our landlord. This morning we decided to go and see Mark at church and ask for advice as to how we could resolve the problem of the dysfunctional boiler. He said that we had several options, pay for the work which had been booked with British Gas this Friday, go to Smart Move, the rental agency which we'd used originally to rent the house or go to Milton Keynes Council as they were very likely to have our landlord's details on record for Council Tax and other purposes. So, once we'd finished at church we drove into the city centre and parked where we usually park in the multi-storey carpark near Debenham's and walked through the shopping centre towards the Council offices. The receptionist was very helpful and told us we'd need to phone from the council office, as she gave us two numbers to ring. There was a considerable wait as several other people were waiting to use the telephone ahead of us. When we eventually got through, we were informed that they would be able to find our landlord's address in their database and that an officer would need to come to the house to inspect the boiler. More, I think, to prove that what we were telling them about the boiler was accurate before contacting our landlord. Having finished at the Council offices, we walked back into the shopping centre and went to Marks and Spencer's to do a bit of shopping and then returned to the carpark to get to the car and drove home. It was barely minutes after we got in the house when the telephone and the officer from the Council said that he'd be visiting at around 2 o'clock. He didn't actually arrive until 2.30, and had a letter to put through the landlord's door detailing the boiler situation. At around 4.30 the landlord telephoned, having got in from work to discover the letter on his doormat and saying he would attempt to find a boiler repair man to deal with the boiler misfunction. He later rang to say that he would come after 7 o'clock with sufficient cash for us to pay for an engineer who  will come out in the morning and didn't want us to pay ourselves. So, hopefully, by mid-morning we will have some resolution to this whole situation. We now have the landlord's address and telephone number in case of any further problems we may have with the house.

Boiler Woes Continue

We had hoped that by now we would have managed to contact our beloved landlord and got him to make some sort of decision about the repair of our central heating boiler. We had a phone number, which we were given by him when we transferred to renting the house directly from the landlord and away from the rental agency, but on attempting to ring the number we found that it was no longer working. After a few more attempts it would appear that he has a new number, much as we got a new telephone number when we went over to Sky from TalkTalk a couple of years ago. You would imagine that we would have been informed of the new number but obviously, they never thought it important enough to give us this new number. So we are still stuck without knowing what to do regarding the boiler, but still have an engineer coming on Friday morning. Then Carol discovered a business card from the plumber who she got through the Academy when we had to get the leak repaired (due to the landlord fouling up the installation of the washing machine, which is recalled in an earlier blog so need not be repeated here.) It would appear that this plumber will not look at the boiler without the landlord's permission, which means we are no further forward with this situation. As a result, of all this we are continuing to have no hot water for washing up, or baths etc etc., unless we boil kettles and saucepans and the house is freezing cold, although we have a very small electric fan heater for use in the lounge. We will have to see what the new week brings as regards resolving this situation.

More Gas Boiler Woes

It's the first day of Half-Term, which means Carol gets a break from work at Milton Keynes Academy and we can spend some quality time together. We have hopefully got a couple of days out planned. As I now get my pension it means we have extra cash for one or two little treats, such as trips to London. There are a couple of exhibitions we'd like to go to, on about Leonardo da Vinci at the Science Museum, a character who intrigues me and another, at the Victoria and Albert museum celebrating the 40th anniversary of the Olivier Awards and the Society of West End Theatre. So we didn't get up as early as we would normally do on a school day. Unfortunately, the gas went out. I assumed it was because the credit had run out on the meter, so it meant I couldn't have my usual morning shave. I have to admit that my day doesn't begin properly until I've had a decent shave and that needs hot water. Tell me I'm old fashioned or some sort of obsessive, but that's the way I am. So I had to boil the kettle in the kitchen and carry it upstairs to the bathroom sink. We needed to get shopping so went to Sainsbury's and on the way back went to the local shop to put £20 on the key which goes in the meter in the outside meter cupboard in order to top up and so have the heating on as well as hot water. In order to reach the meter in the cupboard, you need to stand on something because it is in such a position in the cupboard, at the top and at the back which is impossible to get to unless you stand on something, such as a chair. We have a step we bought from IKEA especially for this job. You have to put the yellow card in the meter and press the button in order to put the credit on, and make sure the switch is off on the wall near the gas boiler in the kitchen. I noticed, when I put in the card, that there was a little over £2 left on the meter, which suggested that it wasn't because of the gas credit running out that was the reason for there being not hot water or heating in the house. It would most likely something to do with the water pressure in the boiler and Carol was able to get it to re-fire with a certain amount of effort and patience. But, after about a dozen-and-a-half attempts it was obvious that the boiler wasn't going to work. By now we were at the point of trying to think how we could possibly solve the problem of the boiler not working. One would be to ring our landlord but from experience, we knew that if we got him involved it would probably take days or weeks before anything is done, and also he would be likely to get some friend of his to repair the boiler and most likely make more of a mess of the thing. As it is, you are only supposed to use a registered C.O.R.G.I. engineer to do any work on anything which runs on gas. I have a feeling that this organization has been superseded by a newer similar government body. So, we decided to attempt to get a reliable company to come and repair the boiler, even if it meant paying for it ourselves. So we found the number of British Gas and set up an appointment for Friday, which was the earliest they could come.

Having found that there were some items we had forgotten when we went to Sainsbury's we decided to go to Waitrose, which is a good deal closer to home. When we got there we were surprised by how crowded and busy it was. Then Carol saw Pauline and her husband, who had been a teacher with her at the Academy and they had a long conversation. They have arranged to meet up during the week.

We have had to have a small electric heater on in the lounge for most of the afternoon and evening as it has been quite cold today. We both of us need to keep warm due to us both having health issues, Carol with diabetes and myself with my heart and by late afternoon we decided that perhaps we would ring our landlord and ask him to deal with the boiler repair. After all, it is his house and he should take the responsibility for the boiler repair.

Working In Theatre- Part 15

Looking back on my time working in theatre, over about a 6-year period and most of it a good 40 years ago, I'm desperately attempting to remember a good deal more. It's a pity I don't have a diary or any written material. I used to have a large box of photographs from the shows I worked on and also programmes from those shows and at one time even the posters. But I have moved around many times over the years and, unfortunately, such material got lost or simply mislaid. Whenever each show was opening we would be given a programme and very nearly always the cast members would sign these programmes. Such a pity I have nothing to post on here. 

I have mentioned working on pantomimes, although, I have to admit to not being over-fond of them as a form of theatre. At Ipswich the year I was there, I think 1973, we did a Christmas show called "Sir Prancelot" based on a B.B.C. television children's programme which had been made by John Ryan, who had earlier created "Captain Pugwash" and animated in his very original style using cut-out figures which were articulated and operated very much like live-action puppets as opposed to 'stop-frame' animation. In actual fact the year before "Sir Prancelot," Ipswich Theatre had done another Christmas show based on "Captain Pugwash." I have to admit that "Sir Prancelot" was rather lacking in originality and was thin as regards plot and character, but nevertheless, I think it did reasonably good business, but the budget was tiny so the sets and costumes weren't up to much. At one point in the action Sir Prancelot and his gang were supposed to take off in a rocket (and this was supposed to be set in the Middle Ages, so definitely an anachronism.) and all we had to suggest this was a sort of wooden cut-out which we hauled up into the flies above the stage and to suggest the rocket engines, some sort of fireworks attached to the bottom edge, which, when lit, produced some really unpleasant fumes, which I doubt would be allowed today, under current health and safety regulations. I had been set the job of working on the fly floor, operating the flying system with a couple of other members of stage management. Hard work, spending the entire show hauling up bits of scenery and letting other bits in on cue.

Poster from the Ipswich Theatre 

production of "Sir Prancelot."

Part of the scenery for "Sir Prancelot" was what is known as a 'scrim.' As in most pantomimes, there are 'cloths' which are painted canvas and the width of the stage, and the height from the stage floor to just about the height of the suspended bars on which hang any lighting. They are then suspended from ropes which go up into the 'flies' in what is called the 'grid', an arrangement of pullies from which the ropes which are used to haul up or down the cloths for scene changes. The 'scrim' was used for scene changes up-stage of it and because it was translucent whatever was lit behind it could be seen by the audience, but if the lights behind it were turned off, the audience would not be able to see anything up-stage. This scrim was lowered in order for us to do scene changes. As this was going on, a scene would be performed downstage, thus allowing us time to perform the scene change. I trust this is making some sort of sense. Anyway, on one occasion the lighting technician didn't remember to turn out the lights behind the scrim as we did the scene change so we were seen by the audience, and since they were mostly children in the audience, they began to shout out that we were in view, making the actor's life very difficult as you can imagine, attempting to continue with their scene with children shouting out! We had to remain stock-still until the lights were turned off up-stage so we could continue with the scene change.

On one occasion we were messing about on the fly floor. I expect something to do with it being the Christmas period, the result of doing perhaps three shows in a day and being over-active. General fooling around. Well, anyway, as a result my knee came into sharp contact with one of the cleats which were used to tie off the ropes (or 'hemps.') At exactly the right height for my knee and it really hurt. As a result, for a day or two, I could hardly walk without a certain amount of pain. That's what comes of tomfoolery and actually quite unprofessional, even though, on reflection, I say so myself looking back on it now. A fly floor can be quite a dangerous place if you don't know what you are doing.  I still get a certain amount of pain from that knee even today, whenever the weather is cold,  there's a sharp wind or damp in the air. 

Signs of Spring

Well, the weather may be somewhat undecided. One minute we have sun, the next it is raining and blowing a gale. But for all that, there are definite signs that spring is on the way. Where I parked the car when I drove into the Academy carpark at 3.30 on Friday afternoon there were catkins on the trees in front of the car. Definite signs of the trees coming into bud as well as primroses and snowdrops all along the road-sides around Milton Keynes. We drove over to Woburn and went trough the park to have a look at the deer, as we do on a regular basis. A pleasant enough drive and not too far our of Milton Keynes. About 15 minutes to get there. We went to Frost's Garden Centre in Woburn Sands to have a look round. It seems as if the place is in the process of being given a make-over. They recently did over the restaurant and it now looks as if the rest is being re-arranged. Some areas look a bit empty, but no doubt this is part of the make-over process. It's always a pleasure to visit and we had a coffee in the restaurant. Good quality food, coffee, cakes and a whole range of other items and Carol was pleased to find they had sugar-free biscuits on sale, some of which she purchased.

Kendra, the young lady who has been staying with us for the last month, has at last found a flat, which she is sharing with another young teacher from the Academy. The flat isn't too far from the Academy, in Oldbrook. We helped her move some of her stuff and went to IKEA the other day to buy bedding, towels and other items for the flat. She came back this afternoon with a car to say thanks for her accommodation and support and on opening it I found a £20 voucher for us to use for a meal in a Prezzo restaurant, so that's something for us to look forward to.

Food Favourites (And some not quite so)

I have written extensively about my school days and in particular at Rushmoor School in Bedford. Of the many not quite so pleasant memories of that establishment must surely be the totally disgusting dinner that was served up. More like slopped up. I have absolutely no idea how much my father had to fork out to send me there, but I would have hoped if I had a son and I was paying for their education, I would hope the food that was dished up was a good deal better. I think they could have made more effort to make it, at least, half edible. I think most people when they look back on their school days (which, you keep being reminded are supposed to be 'the happiest of your life.') it's generally the dinners that get mentioned the most frequently if it's for how bad they are, or even, how good. I can remember gristly, chewy meat. What sort it was, I can hardly imagine. I should think beef or pork, but possibly a horse, mule or donkey. More likely road-kill from some country road in and around Bedfordshire. Sorry, I know we've had food scares in the past. But expecting your progeny to eat such disgusting food should come under some form of an act of parliament for child cruelty in this day and age.  I don't know about the time I was at school. You just put up with it and didn't make any sort of fuss. Liver, I seem to recall, looking like and having the consistency of rubber erasers and tasting bitter, and swimming in gravy. No, struggling to survive. Usually watered-down, like the custard. I think they could make a reasonably fine sponge pudding, but then they ruined it with lumpy custard. But tell me, how difficult is it to make the custard, minus the lumps? Shove it through a sieve to remove the lumps and then boil it to death. Similarly, cabbage, which has been boiled to within an inch of its life. And stinking the place out to high heaven. Enough to put anyone off for life, and it probably has. Rice pudding was another staple. Actually, to tell the truth, I do actually like rice pudding. They served it up with watered-down treacle I seem to remember. I've heard of stretching things until it breaks, like a piece of elastic (yes, another metaphor. The liver and meat had the texture of elastic. Chew it until your jaw ached!) Which reminds me that once, at Rushmoor, one dinner time they served up plain boiled rice. I think it might, on reflection, have started out being a good old fashioned rice pud, but someone forgot that it's made with milk. So we were expected to eat it, along with very watered-down treacle. Not nice. Can you imagine being made to sit and eat it until it was all gone? That Mrs Richardson, who presided over the piano-playing for assembly (see my earlier post.) was in control of the ladle and spoon, doling out the dinners, slapping the custard, gravy and other comestibles onto our plates as we queued up, in a similar fashion to the inmates of the workhouse in 'Oliver Twist.' We had liver, as I've said. Pretty disgusting. I expect it put a lot of people off liver- for life. No 'asking for more' as you can imagine. I think even poor old Oliver would have passed on the rubber-consistency of this. I actually rather like liver, as an adult. I don't have a problem with it and know how to cook it, slowly, in a nice rich gravy. It's quite nice, for a change. It's a cheap meal and is good for you. It contains iron, amongst other things. But the thought of eating boiled rice, on it's own, with thin, watered-down treacle, that was just disgusting. 

My mother was a very good cook. She made plain, simple food. As there were seven of us living at home, five of us brothers and my mother and father, what you had put in front of you, you were expected to eat up and not leave anything. No room for finicky eaters. I don't think my mother would have put up with such behaviour, and certainly not my father. We had porridge for breakfast. Actually, even as an adult, I quite like porridge, so long as I'm making it and it's not lumpy. Better for you, and a good deal cheaper, than sugar-filled cereals from a packet.  I don't think we ever had any other cereal such as Rice Krispies, Sugar Puffs or even Corn Flakes until I was perhaps around 12 years old. Also, bacon and eggs. A good old fry-up, because, being a farm, my father and two eldest brothers needed a substantial breakfast each morning as they would have got up early, around 5.30- 6.00, to feed the cattle and other animals and do other early-morning jobs, and then come into the house to have their breakfast at 7-8 o'clock. That was after they left school.

Sunday lunch we'd usually have a roast, such as chicken, beef, pork or lamb. Naturally, if it was beef or pork it might possibly be home-produced. And with the roast, roast potatoes and other vegetables from the garden. My father grew Brussel sprouts on the farm, which were sent off to Smithfield Market, and we had with our meal. A much larger variety than the tiny variety that you'll find in your average supermarket. For pudding, something like sponge pudding and custard (although I don't remember having custard. Probably cream, straight from the cow which was reserved for the house. Something I don't expect would be allowed today, what with the E.U. and all the regulations that go with it. The cattle were tested for T.B. or whatever it was once a year, can't remember what else for, to fit the current regulations. I just know that you wouldn't be able to drink 'raw' untreated milk. I have to say that it tasted a good deal better than pasteurised milk, and the cream was thicker and richer. We also had a lot of fruit from the garden, such as strawberries, raspberries and rhubarb, when in season, and ate it stewed with more cream, or in a sponge pudding of some sort. Also, celery and asparagus, which, looking back, we were very fortunate to have growing in the garden. When you see these things in a supermarket, and the price they charge, I realise more than ever how lucky we were to be able to eat these fruit and vegetables. There was a quite substantial orchard at Malting Farm, with plenty of plum, apple and pear trees in it. Sadly, the last time I went to the farm I saw that it had all been removed and the land used  as animal pens. I suppose the cost of maintaining it all was too much and was better being used for the sheep and other farm animals.

My mother was a good baker and we had ample cakes and other delights for tea. I don't think she ever bought a cake, although I seemed to remember her buying the odd treat from a cake shop in Harrowden Road, on the road going into Bedford. Doughnuts, filled with jam, as well as little cakes in fancy paper trays, I think called Viennese Whirls, made, I think of choux pastry and with a dob of bright red jam on top. Not jam probably, more like a thick gooey substance with a sweet over-flavoured taste. She was a dab-hand at making shortbread, I believe being given the recipe from one of my father's Scottish relatives. There is a certain knack to making this Scottish delicacy, made of real butter and it has to be kneaded carefully. Just delicious, cut into triangles and sprinkled with sugar. Also, scones with cream and jam, Victoria sponges, also filled with jam (I'm quite good at making them.) as well as fruit cakes and her piece-de-resistance, cream slices, which had not jam and cream in them, but confectioner's custard, which is quite difficult to make. Tea was at around 4.00 p.m. and you can see why we had so many visitors to the farm, usually 'reps' from the various companies who did business with the farm. They would not only get an order out of my father, but a decent cup of tea, a piece of cake and a chat, before they got back in their cars and drove back to wherever their company was based, such as Biggleswade or Sandy, which are further up the road going towards the A1.

My grandmother, who lived at Mill Farm, made rock cakes, and she covered them with little seeds I think they were caraway seeds. I didn't particularly like them as a child. If you went to tea you weren't expected to pick and choose. You couldn't be finicky. You ate what was put in front of you. So, if you found yourself eating something you didn't like (such as the aforementioned seeded rock cakes) you put up and shut up. I do remember though, one family (who shall remain nameless) coming to tea with their two children who would have been quite young at the time, and my mother had made her usually delicious teas with plenty of cake (although the rule was generally 'bread before cake' in our household.) and there was a plate full of delicious-looking little cakes (probably filled with jam and cream.) One of these children had an eye for the plate of cakes and was determined to get on. So, in order that one, in particular, was taken for him to consume, he licked a finger and then stuck it in one of the cakes and said 'that one's for me!' meaning that, because he'd shoved his finger into it with a licked finger, no one else would possibly want to eat it! Not a particularly pleasant little boy, I must say, and I'm not entirely sure what my mother made of this strategy to get one of her delicious cakes!

As for some  other of my favourite foods: I like pancakes, and I'm fairly good at making them myself. As it's Shrove Tuesday this week ('Pancake Day') I shall no doubt be making some myself. The knack is being able to make a good batter and leaving it to stand for well over an hour. Whisking the batter is the secret. Also, making batter for Yorkshire pudding, making sure the oven is hot and the pan you cook it in has hot oil in it before you put in the batter. I like mine crisp and crunch with a most or soggy centre.My grandfather liked his Yorkshire pudding soggy and I remember going to lunch with my grandparents and my grandfather deliberately slammed the oven door when we had Yorkshire pudding with our roast beef to make sure they sunk and wouldn't go crunchy! I also like bread and butter pudding, so simple to make, but easy to make. I'm good at making that also.

Snow Flurries

We've had a surprisingly mild winter so far. We have had a couple of days of snow, but not enough to cause too many problems, such as ice on the roads or drifts blocking the main highways or incommoding such things as airports and railways. We have had a couple of mornings when there has been frost and the car's windows have been iced up so we've had to scrape it off. But we were prepared and got a can of deicer as well as a scraper from the supermarket. Problem solved. The car has a good heating system which soon melts off any ice. Unlike the old car, which was so antiquated I don't think they had such refinements in them when they were built back in the days of the Ark. But this morning it was considerably colder and there was a small amount of ice on the windscreen. Strangely it was not on the driver's side but it was easy enough to scrape off. There was a flurry of snowflakes, so are we to be whited out? No, I expect not. I said to Carol, as we sat in the car waiting for it to warm up, "So, the kids will be out building snowmen in the playground then at break time?" To which she replied "No. Because they're not allowed to." How miserable can you get? When I was at school we couldn't wait to rush out at break time and have snowball fights and build snowmen. What is it with today's kill-joys? Health and safety have gone mad. I remember all sorts of things we did when it snowed when I was a child; sledging, walking on ice in ponds (dangerous, I know, thinking about it now.) and particularly making snowmen and even igloos out of snow which was made by rolling snowballs in the snow and making really big blocks of snow/ice, when it froze on thick snow. We made some fantastic igloo-constructions which seemed to last for ages. At school, we had to go out and help clear the playground of snow when I was at Rushmoor School. There was a large pile of snow up against a wall at one end of the playground which seemed to remain there for days on end. It must have frozen hard to such an extent that it began to push the wall at a rather dangerous angle. I'm not sure now whether it actually pushed the wall over, but it would have been quite unsafe. None of this nonsense with health and safety in those days. I think it was the winter of 1962-63, or thereabouts when the snow lasted what seemed like months. So much so that the roads were blocked but it didn't stop people moving about. And school went on regardless. I think we must have been much hardier then, no fussing about it being too cold or anything. And certainly no shortages of food, lorries or trains not getting through.