Ecky Thump!

Eeee bah gum, we 'ad a busy weekend, this one.

Friday night, I did indeed go and see Mama Mia... and I can honestly say that I thoroughly enjoyed it. Not because of the fine acting, and particularly not because of the fine singing (I thought that Meryl Streep looked and sounded like Mrs Doubtfire, and Piers Brosnan... how did you let them do it to you, Piers???), but because it was so funny it hurt. I laughed from the opening number, until the end. I cringed, I cried with laughter, I guffawed, it actually seemed to hit hysteria level at one point! I'm not sure why some of my friends have seen fit to see this several times (perhaps they were so drained after watched a matinee performance, that they couldn't leave the cinema?), but I can safely say that for the first time in a long time I knew what the term "feel  good movie" meant. I'm not 100% sure whether I was laughing *with* the actors, or at them... but who cares, it was worth the trip. Afterwards, Lynn, John and I had a couple of pints in Histon, and I skipped home with the lyrics to "Take a Chance on Me" ringing in my ears.

Saturday, we followed The Stutes up to York for the day to watch them play against York City in the Kit Kat Crescent (interesting name for a ground!). The three hours it took to get there was made all the more worth it for a walk around the city centre and a delicious bag of chips from a chippie near the ground. I must say that the little terraced houses and the smell of fish and chips reminded me of my childhood... ahhhhh... happy days! Living next to a fish and chip shop as a child never put me off them! ;-) The ground was a little more shabby than I would have expected (I thanked my lucky stars that it wasn't a wet wintry Tuesday when I used the toilets sited in a port-a-cabin in the dingiest corner of the stadium... it was scary enough on a relatively bright Saturday afternoon). We managed a 1-1 draw against York in the end, although to be honest we should have got more. I like the comradery of away matches - although the Histon away crowd always make me smile a little. About six young lads (who like to shout a bit of abuse at the 2000+ home crowd - a bit scary - I long for a reversible shirt at times), a few old ladies waving their scarves frantically, and several despondent looking men, shouting instructions from the sidelines. And of course, Mark and I... in matching shirts. Ahem.

Saturday evening turned into a bit of a beer and wine fest for us on arrival home. Mark's Dad popped in for a couple of hours, and despite the beers I managed to cobble together some sort of dinner made from various things in the freezer - scorched them a bit in the oven, and then professionally 'dumped' them on the plate. Presentation is key ;-)

Sunday, we went over to the garden centre in Fordham (my personal favourite) and bought loads of perennials for the back border. Mark planted them on return and I watched my first glimpse of the Olympics - I thought I had better fasten myself tightly onto the bandwagon now that it looks like we might win a few medals - and most importantly, beat Australia on the Gold medal front ;-) Of course, if things change, expect this paragraph to disappear mysteriously from the blog... heh. Late afternoon, we ran Mark's Dad to Heathrow, bless him. He is off Sydney to visit his brother for a couple of weeks or so. I have to say, I really really felt for him as he disappeared through the gates, looking close to tears. He has been dreading the journey - travelling alone is not a concept that sits comfortably with him at all. He hates being alone full stop, and travelling without Suzy by his side is bloody difficult for him (they had had such good times in Australia in the past, so it all stirs him up a bit). His brother is going to be delighted though - its his 77th birthday tomorrow, and he has no clue that John is going to be there. I wish I was there to see that particular reunion. Mark's uncle has been ill with lung cancer (but appears to be in remission for the time being), so it is likely to be an emotional reunion! One very good thing though - he remembered literally last minute that the friendly neighbourhood cat that visits him almost daily was asleep in the cupboard in his house! What a horrific welcome home that would have been!

On arrival home we went to see The Clone Wars cartoon film thingy... there were three of us in the entire cinema for this one! I can's say that it was one of my favourite films, but it wasn't too bad. It was mainly to appease PW, who seemed to enjoy it more so ;-)

Anyway... I am off out tonight with Emma - going for a run, and then making up for it with a trip to Wagamama (yummmm). Am going in my freshly recovered car - so wish me luck! For various reasons I have decided that a complete abstinence from alcohol is in order. We will see how long it lasts this time...

Love, Peace and "Do you want a bread bun with that?...", as they say in Kit Kat Crescent.

Hayley

xxxxx

A Friday Afternoon Thought...

I have just this minute been struck by a thought (hold on to your hats, it doesn't happen often!)...

Do you think that perhaps I have turned into a gay man? A perusal of my recent posts includes a reference to Rufus Winwright AND Judy Garland, and tonight I am going to see a film that surely causes even the least sensitive 'Gaydar' to violently twitch. I *do* rather fancy men, and perhaps found the "Hollyoaks Hunks" a little too attractive... hmmmmmmmmmm.........

Mama Mia, Kias and Onomatopoeia...

Mama Mia!... I thought as I awoke at 6:30 this morning, to take my car for its second visit to the Kia Garage in Royston. Poor little Pussy Galore. Her electrics keep cutting out mid-journey. Not such a bad thing when you are pootling down the road at barely twenty MPH (just a little inconvenient), but considerably more dangerous at speed. The trouble is though that nowadays*, if the computer cant find the fault (the diagnostics?), the mechanic hasn't got a chance of fixing it. Intermittent faults are impossible to detect it seems. I have less faith in these be-shirted technicians than I did in the grease monkey who would disappear under your car for half and hour, and emerge triumphantly gripping a small plastic and metal part - although they invariably had fewer teeth and appeared to wash less (the sign of a good mechanic, my Grandad informs me)! I do remember fondly though one particular mechanic in Lowestoft, who rang me to tell me that my car (Jarvis) was "all a bit whats-er-name" by way of explanation... heh. Fingers crossed though - lets hope they find out what's wrong.

* Have I really reached the age where I use the term "nowadays"? Shocker...

Mama Mia is my theme for the day then. Am going to watch it tonight at the cinema with Lynn and John - but shush, don't tell anyone. I have to admit, I was roundly unconvinced by the trailer - perhaps a form of 'anti-feminismo' on my part (is there such a word?). I pointed and scoffed at it, claiming that only 'bimbos' would bother to go see it (reminding myself to hide my edition of "Dirty Dancing" when I got home (in fact: to hide the DVD, Video, and CD Soundtrack of it when I got home). Thankfully, Mark saw through the charade, and seems mercifully unsurprised by my decision to go back on my word; or at least, he is saving the ribbing until afterwards. Perhaps it's because I own a car that I call "Glamour Puss", which has in fact got the word "Glamour" written on it in pink - a big selling point in my eyes (a hairdresser's car, according to my savage younger sibling). Perhaps Mark is simply temporarily disoriented by his friend John's decision to join us on this chick-flick-fest. I have made him promise not to wear his Agnetha wig, although Lynn is more concerned by the possibility that he might go as Bjorn. I will wear dark glasses and a headscarf, just in case...

"Definition: Onomatopoeia are words that sound like the objects they name or the sounds those objects make." How about, it is a word that sounds like "Kia" and "Mama Mia"? Did I miss the point? Perhaps... (I think its called a rhyme) but I liked the word anyway... gosh, I am a veritable word terrorist today. Think yourself lucky I didn't throw in random references to "Princess Leah", or "Lowestoft Pier".

Love Peace and... err.... "Tia Maria", as they say in Sweden.
Lots of love
Hayls
xxx

"buzz", "crash", "whirr", "clang", "hiss", "purr", "squeak", "mumble", "hush", "boom"... just in case you were trying to think of any! ;-)

Weetabix - The New Wonder Food

I have been following Slimming World for two or three weeks now - hoping to recreate the sucess I had with it a year or so ago now (I lost two stone that time, albeit very slowly - and have put back on about a stone - I put it down to stress since Xmas).

However... I had not really lost even a pound, until yesterday. Yesterday morning I tried to work out where I was going wrong, and realised that the only real difference between this time and last time was that last time I included two weetabix in my copious bowl of fruit and yoghurt that the diet allows me. The due diligence paid off - this morning I had lost that long awaited pound - taaah daaaaa!!!

Does this mean though that all I needed was more fibre in my diet? I have a feeling that this points to only one conclusion... I am full of the proverbial ;-) But you all knew that anyway!

This Ole House

"The selling and leasing markets are both saturated, and yours quite frankly doesn't come up to scratch.." he said, matter-of-factly. My friendly local Estate Agent says that I appear to have a turkey on my hands. A big one. One that even Nigella would be proud of serving up on a Christmas Day.

My beautiful little house in Norwich has been deemed superfluous to the housing world's requirements, and worse still it is 'un-lettable'. I know its a little quirky, and the kitchen *is* terribly eighties... but I always thought it was rather cute. Something made *me* fall in love with it - why not anyone else? Perhaps nobody else is that daft! ;-)

Anyway... so... what to do? The pedant in me wants to get over there, and paint it up (the external paintwork is a bit of a mess) - restore it to its former glory, and battle off the potential buyers with a big stick. Ahem...bump. I was instructed that "doing something purely for the sake of completeness" might be a costly affair - and worse still, a complete waste of time. I had in my head a picture of it beautifully painted (in a lovely shade of biscuit, offset with a white picket fence) with gingham curtains, and a small rainbow poking out from behind the lavender bushes. Apparently, (and it is very hard for me to believe), but other people might not share my vision?! Don't they know who I am? What I stand for? My sister owns a nice deli for Godssakes... of *course* I have good taste!

I guess I will have to think it through. God, I hate 'thinking things through'. I am impulsive... artistic... ummm... undecided! The 'credit crunch' has suddenly come up and pecked me on the bottom... it's real! Panic everyone!!!!!!

Love, Peace, and "Ain't got time to fix the shingles"... as they say in Quebec Road.
Hayls
xxxxx

Spot the Difference...

This might become a regular spot... so watch out my friends.

Cousin Mark - I couldn't resist... your resemblance to Boober Fraggle is unmistakable... heh. For some reason, this struck me on a Monday afternoon right out of the blue...

Putting on the Ritz

I might have found my ultimate album...

"Rufus Wainwright Does Judy Garland at Carnegie Hall...".



All I need now is Elvis Presley singing "Last Night I Dreamt Sombody Loved Me" by The Smiths, and my life will be complete... ;-)

Back To Black!

Back on the turnstiles today for Histon FC. For the first time ever in my life - I actually feel quite excited about the football season starting. How sad is that? Mark and I have become so embroiled in the club (photographs, turnstiles, doing posters and now even tweaking the website), that I've actually got that nice 'back to school' feeling I used to get in my youth - I was one of those strange kids that actually missed school during the summer holidays.

This year we are back to playing in red and black stripes - a welcome change in my view. The black goes better with the bags under my eyes ;-)

My cousin Mark is coming along for the first match in the season today. He likes to take the p*ss out of me... We always have a laugh over the following article taken from the Midfield Dynamo website: "20 Things You Always See or Hear at Non-league Football" (I think Mark has me down as a number 4 or 18... heh. Thankfully I wont be wearing my fingerless mittens just yet ;-)):

Contrary to popular opinion, it's not just one man and his whippet that attends non-league football, yet one thing's for sure, you'll most likely see the following...


1. A man with a bright red face and enormous flared trousers.
2. The local town nutter who declares that he loves his local team so much and never, ever, misses a game, before mysteriously disappearing somewhere during the second half.
3. The failed tactician. Usually stands behind managers dugouts in a mid-nineties Adidas training coat, Farah slacks and shiny shoes, bellowing out various disastrous instructions to all and sundry.
4. Some old dear selling Bovril for the 61st consecutive season.
5. The players wags - usually huddled together in the few half decent wooden seats that are available. And even at this level they're always stunning... why is that ?
6. The half-time raffle where the prizes are mostly things like 4 cans of Mackeson Stout, a box of out of date Terry's All Gold, or a half empty can of Lynx.
7. The condemned stand. In most non-league grounds you encounter a thin piece of red and white tape that's the only thing separating you from certain death on a relic that has stood empty and disused since 1987.
8. Dodgy advertisement hoardings. These usually include a local haulage firm, an Indian takeaway, something where half of the advertisement has dropped off, and a taxi firm that went out of business 3 year ago.
9. A dodgy section of the pitch. Used to great tactical effect by the home team, often resulting in long balls pumped to the sloping left-wing, daisy-cutter shots towards the molehills, and random bounces on the concrete-like goalmouth area.
10. The 40 year old club veteran. Usually a central defender with a nose like a hammer, but sometimes a journeyman ex-pro called Dave, Barry, Mick, or Alan.
11. The desperate Dad. Father of one of the younger players, he spends the entire match shouting and rawping at him in the full knowledge that his lad is never going to be quite good enough to 'make it'. That trial at Brentford will never come around again.
12. The bloke who positions himself near the dug out so he can berate the manager regardless of the team's form or performances. Likes a pint in the social club with the failed tactician.
13. Packets of crisps at the tea bar from manufacturers you've never heard of and that probably don't even exist. Brands like Bensons or His Nibs.
14. The annoying intermittent tannoy system that was given to the club back in 1974 by the local bus corporation. It hardly worked back then, now it just sounds like Norman Collier has taken over the pre-match announcements.
16. The pre-match announcements. Come on, does anybody listen to them ? He could be droning on about balsa wood for all anybody knows. In actual fact, he's usually thanking the local print firm for the match sponsorship or playing records such as "Eye of the Tiger" or anything by Phil Collins.
17. A couple of spectacularly bored six year olds brought along by an elderly relative desperate to institutionalise them into the ways of supporting the local team. Moments after kick off they'll start kicking a discarded Coke can about for the remainder of the match.
18. The fancy-dan wannabe. Easy to spot - he's the only wearing white, gold or red boots. And a hairband. Normally tries a couple of fancy flicks with his first few touches before being taken out by the 40 year old club veteran.
19. Some half-daft old dear on her own in the seats wrapped in a bizarre, home made club scarf and wearing an equally homespun woolly hat. Her mood will swing from quiet benevolence to incandescent rage at any innocuous refereeing decision. There's also a good chance she'll be knitting.
19. The drunk in the social club. He only goes because it was the only place he could get served before all day drinking was allowed. Hasn't yet realised the law was changed in 1989. Even the bloke who positions himself near the dug out and the failed tactician try to avoid him.
20. A massive, clapped out old telly in the social club. It was probably made by PYE.

It will be really nice to see Mark - he has been travelling for the last six months, and is back to Earth (with a bit of a bump - he also lost his paternal Grandmother this summer, and came straight home to her funeral).

Love, Peace and Up the Stutes... as they say at the Glass World Stadium!
Hayley
xxxx

Harlyn Sands, Cornwall, July 2008 - The Photographs

Here are the photographs taken on our recent holiday to Cornwall... be warned! As usual - there are lots of them! (the link is below the gorgeous photographs)

 

Harlyn Sands, Cornwall, June 2008

A New Quest...

I am going all funny in my newly realised old age... I have two new aims; to a) re-join a pottery class, and b) get an allotment. Both are sudden and now burning ambitions (in addition to the ones on the back burner - like making blackberry wine this year, giving home-made fudge as Xmas presents, and making my own range of birthday cards). I will keep you posted on my progress - I am sure you will all be gripped (I can sense people the world over holding their breath).

Perhaps that Rhubarb Gin did more damage than I thought at the weekend??

Love, Peace and Self Sufficiency... as they say in their mid-thirties.
Hayls
xxxx

Hollyoaks and Hollyhocks

Well... I had a lovely weekend. Busy busy busy as usual. Friday night I went to the gym with Lynn, and then blew all my hard work afterwards by going to the pub and having yet another curry with Mark (I had had one the night before with Sophie!). Oh dear...

Saturday, I had agreed to work the turnstiles at Histon FC for the afternoon. A local radio station called Q103 (who are actually based in the building below where I work) were playing a charity match against the 'Hunks' from the TV programme Hollyoaks. For those of you living in a vacum (like me), its a teen's soap opera, based around a group of ridiculously (unrepresentatively so) good-looking Northern teenagers, with incredibly complicated love lives - imagine Beverley Hills 90210 with scouse accents ;-) Anyway... it absolutely peed with rain right up to the point of kick-off, but that didn't seem to stop several hundred scantily dressed girls from turning out to scream their support (and I really do mean scream) for their favourite Hollyoaks man. As I shivered in my sensible brown corduroy trousers and day-glo goretex jacket, they didn't seem to hear my grim warnings; "you will catch your death of cold"... "do you know I can see your underwear?" as they staggered past in their ill-fitting heels, with their tummies hanging out. And yes.... I AM bitter - me and all the other old ladies that watched them file through from underneath our padded layers ;-). Incredibly, some of them had even turned up with pre-purchased tickets to queue from 9:30am onwards - knowing that the kick-off wouldn't be until 3pm... heh. Oh to be young and *that* enthusiastic about anything! Even the promise of a Tarka Dahl and several pints of Black Dog wouldn't get me standing in the rain for longer than five minutes, and that's saying something ;-) I did have to smile when one particular hottie shimmied through the gates in a white bikini top and little white skirt (perfect for a foreign beach - not so good for a rainy day in Histon), and wanted to know if there were any front row seats?! I hope for her sake that she got noticed by at least one of them! ;-) Sad to say, but I couldn't even be bothered to go over and watch any of the match - I must be losing my MoJo or something.

Saturday evening, the weather cleared up considerably, and Mark and I drove over to Lowestoft to have a BBQ with my Sister, my parents and the boys. Unfortunately this particular evening seemed to go past in a bit of a blur, and for good reason. My Father and I were on the wine - we drank one previously opened bottle of wine in my sister's fridge, and since the bottle that I had donated was not yet cold, we tucked into another bottle of wine that appeared open in Tracy's fridge. Now I am no wine connoisseur, and neither is my Dad... but we thought it was a slightly 'off' bottle of Chardonnay that perhaps my Sister had had open for a while in the fridge. Being the kind of people we are, we ignored the warning signs and drank it anyway, even opening another straight after. Hmmm.... it wasn't until I vaguely heard my sister muttering something about not being able to find her Rhubarb Gin that the penny dropped! We had polished off the lot! Now, having said that I don't have a discerning palette, I can honestly say in my defence that said liquid in no way tasted like Gin or bloody Rhubarb... what a swizz - and fancy decanting it into an unlabelled wine bottle! I like to enjoy my crimes if I have to pay for them... My poor Dad felt a little more worse the wear than I did... but I must admit, the evening did seem to pass very quickly! We did at some point manage to have a conversation re: Tracy's meeting with old Charlie and Camilla though. Can you believe that she actually found him quite alluring? I fear for my Sister - I think she has gone from bad to worse in her tastes in men... although this one is considerably richer, and may have a greater ability to 'outdo' he who shall not be named. Heh... Seriously though - the meeting went well. He was chummy, charming, and seemed genuinely interested in the shop.... I guess these people have a PHD in putting people at ease though.

On Sunday we went over to the Garden Centre in Fritton, and bought a few more plants for the garden - some more unusual plants for us, to try and bring some new colours and types of foliage to the back border in our garden. Alan Titchmarsh eat yer heart out. We went to Fritton House for lunch (delicious roast lamb), and played on the adventure park there for a bit. We went back to Tracy's for a cuppa, then headed off. Last night I really finished off the pigging out over the weekend by making a pizza - something I haven't done for ages. It was quite delicious, even though I say so myself! 

This week am resolving to lay off the booze and the non-Slimming-World foods, and be a good girl. Hang on - is that a pig I see flying past the window? ;-) Off to the gym tonight for me!

Love, Peace and Mother's Ruin... as they say in Fritton.
Hayls
xxxxxxxxx