It's been a very annoying week all in all.
From Monday to Thursday I struggled to get up in time for work, routinely sleeping through my alarm. Friday and Saturday, wide awake at the crack of dawn. At six thirty this morning I was in my kitchen making ice cream. What is the matter with me? I've longed all week for a lie in and now I've failed twice in a row. I mean there must be something wrong with you if you are up making ice cream before eight on a Saturday, right?
Yesterday it was really hot and I mean really hot. Temperatures hit 28C in my back garden. It was great for getting your washing dried but far to hot for anything else. So, on the hottest day of the year so far, I had to go to the Warfarin clinic. Fortunately being up so early we arrived at just after eight, had no trouble parking and I was in and out in a blink of an eye. Mainly because I was the only one stupid enough to turn up the minute they opened the doors. We then went on and did out grocery shopping and were home before ten. Result!
For once I'd warn a skirt and had dug out my sandals from last year. I don't know what had possessed me when I got them but, once I'd dusted them off, I decided they were horrible. They were flats with thin leather thongs keeping the base of the shoe on your foot. Nothing wrong there, I usually go for the flip flop style as I like to go barefoot around the house and need something I can just slip on when venturing outside. However they were all I had so I put them on, making a mental note to get some new ones as soon as we next ventured into a shopping center. It was when I tried walking in them that the problem really became apparent, either my feet had shrunk or the leather had badly stretched as I could not keep them on my feet. I was sliding all over the base of the sandal and every time I lifted my foot up the sandal stuck like glue to the ground only slapping back into place seconds before I put my foot down. Not only were they uncomfortable, they were dangerous so in the bin they went.
I had to find something though as it was far too warm for jeans and trainers. Another rummage in the back of the wardrobe produced some fit flops I'd purchased about three years ago. They were not pretty but they fit perfectly and were comfortable so off we went.
After lunch we ventured into Milton Keynes briefly, to pick something up from John Lewis, and to have a quick look around. It was there that I discover the joy of Birkenstocks. I decided just to have a tentative try on and was hooked. So in the bag they went and I am delighted. Some people will think they look a bit clumsy but they are just my style.
So with happy feet I arrived home and set about making some ice cream. I bought an ice cream maker last year and the results were awesome so I made a batch of plain vanilla and another of strawberry. Later on I intend to add a batch of raspberry and then move on to a peach frozen yogurt and if I have time a strawberry or raspberry version. OK, so making it yourself is a bit time consuming but at least I know that everything I put in mine is real and not a load of e numbers and flavourings. Laurence is coming to lunch tomorrow so I will be serving my ice cream with fresh fruit and wafers, delicious.
I had hoped that we could enjoy our family lunch al fresco but it seems the weather has put paid to that, again! It's like going from the sublime to the ridiculous, one day you're a slapping on pints of sun cream and then next you're pulling on wellies. So instead of sitting quietly in the garden with a book, listening to bird song, I will be hunched up on the settee watching the tennis, that if it's dry enough at Queens.
There is light at the end of the tunnel though. I have one more week at work and then I have two glorious weeks off. If the weather improves, please, then I'll have plenty of time to enjoy the garden, if not then there is Wimbledon to look forward too. I'm also planning a trip to Aberystwyth to see my mum and sister. Last year the weather was beautiful, this year, well I might just take something warm and waterproof.
I settled down to watch one of my favourite programmes last night and was horrified to find, not only had I missed it, but there were four hours of football in it's place. If the match doesn't start until nine why does the programme start at seven thirty? Can anyone answer that? It's not as though we don't get enough football ruining our TV viewing as it is, now we have the world cup to contend with. I know that motor racing and Wimbledon sometimes encroach on the running schedules but it is very rare, and only when something exceptional has happened which warrants extending the programme. With football it is practically every week!
Having said all that, this year's world cup hasn't captured the national imagination as previous world cups have. There is no longer the wild, and continuous, speculation over whether England will win. No one expects England to win anymore and I think that is the problem. People are getting very fed up of seeing these pampered, over paid, (mostly) ill educated children run halfheartedly around the pitch and having toddler tantrums if someone messes with their hair. Back in 1966 most of the players were amateurs playing only for the pride of representing their nation. Maybe that's the answer. Only pay the players if they win.
A recent poll showed that four out of ten of us has no interest in the 'national' game, while a third will not be bothering to watch any of the matches. What a turn around! Last time every pub was festooned in flags and everywhere you went there were cars and van flying flags. This year neither of my village pubs are flying flags and I've only seen two cars with them. Maybe this will change if England gets through to the second round but it seems no one is expecting that either.
Right time to get lunch prepared and then I can settle myself down for some tennis. Next blog tomorrow.
From Monday to Thursday I struggled to get up in time for work, routinely sleeping through my alarm. Friday and Saturday, wide awake at the crack of dawn. At six thirty this morning I was in my kitchen making ice cream. What is the matter with me? I've longed all week for a lie in and now I've failed twice in a row. I mean there must be something wrong with you if you are up making ice cream before eight on a Saturday, right?
Yesterday it was really hot and I mean really hot. Temperatures hit 28C in my back garden. It was great for getting your washing dried but far to hot for anything else. So, on the hottest day of the year so far, I had to go to the Warfarin clinic. Fortunately being up so early we arrived at just after eight, had no trouble parking and I was in and out in a blink of an eye. Mainly because I was the only one stupid enough to turn up the minute they opened the doors. We then went on and did out grocery shopping and were home before ten. Result!
I had to find something though as it was far too warm for jeans and trainers. Another rummage in the back of the wardrobe produced some fit flops I'd purchased about three years ago. They were not pretty but they fit perfectly and were comfortable so off we went.
 |
| Smirnoff totally relaxed in the sun |
So with happy feet I arrived home and set about making some ice cream. I bought an ice cream maker last year and the results were awesome so I made a batch of plain vanilla and another of strawberry. Later on I intend to add a batch of raspberry and then move on to a peach frozen yogurt and if I have time a strawberry or raspberry version. OK, so making it yourself is a bit time consuming but at least I know that everything I put in mine is real and not a load of e numbers and flavourings. Laurence is coming to lunch tomorrow so I will be serving my ice cream with fresh fruit and wafers, delicious.
I had hoped that we could enjoy our family lunch al fresco but it seems the weather has put paid to that, again! It's like going from the sublime to the ridiculous, one day you're a slapping on pints of sun cream and then next you're pulling on wellies. So instead of sitting quietly in the garden with a book, listening to bird song, I will be hunched up on the settee watching the tennis, that if it's dry enough at Queens.
I settled down to watch one of my favourite programmes last night and was horrified to find, not only had I missed it, but there were four hours of football in it's place. If the match doesn't start until nine why does the programme start at seven thirty? Can anyone answer that? It's not as though we don't get enough football ruining our TV viewing as it is, now we have the world cup to contend with. I know that motor racing and Wimbledon sometimes encroach on the running schedules but it is very rare, and only when something exceptional has happened which warrants extending the programme. With football it is practically every week!
Having said all that, this year's world cup hasn't captured the national imagination as previous world cups have. There is no longer the wild, and continuous, speculation over whether England will win. No one expects England to win anymore and I think that is the problem. People are getting very fed up of seeing these pampered, over paid, (mostly) ill educated children run halfheartedly around the pitch and having toddler tantrums if someone messes with their hair. Back in 1966 most of the players were amateurs playing only for the pride of representing their nation. Maybe that's the answer. Only pay the players if they win.
A recent poll showed that four out of ten of us has no interest in the 'national' game, while a third will not be bothering to watch any of the matches. What a turn around! Last time every pub was festooned in flags and everywhere you went there were cars and van flying flags. This year neither of my village pubs are flying flags and I've only seen two cars with them. Maybe this will change if England gets through to the second round but it seems no one is expecting that either.
Right time to get lunch prepared and then I can settle myself down for some tennis. Next blog tomorrow.
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