Chicken Soup For The Soul

I’m a fricking Genius.

By accident , may I add?

The slow cooker is paying for itself already. Yesterday I cooked a chicken in it and had the foresight to leave all the juicy juices, chicken stock and leftovers in said pot.



Jackie recipe :

Randomly dice up one onion, a few carrots, a few potatoes and fry them gently in olive oil for some time. Add the juices from the crockpot plus more Chicken Oxo cube stock and a splash of herbes de provence. Simmer until all the veg is tender.

Let the pan cool, add a few chunks of rescued chicken then bash it all about a lot with a whizzy thing until you get a smooth something – I had to add a bit of milk here to help the whizz.

Season to taste. Lots of salt and pepper.

Fry off some bacon lardons. Add to the mix.

I have some double cream to hand and may go a bit creamy when I add the rest of the chicken and reheat everything about 5pm.


I’d make a brilliant TV cook :o)

A Beautiful Autumn Day

It started early. I hate being chivvied so I did my protest, had another mug of coffee, wrote a shopping list and we ventured into town.

A Sunday morning lie-in is all well and good but not when the day is gorgeous and empty of traffic and full of bird song.

We had a big disagreement about people who were once close to us — as in our mate who was Family Liaison Officer in the Soham Murder Investigation. Long, boring story.

Himself was always the soldier. I was always the policeman when we were in the RMP.

Feeling the need for some light relief.

He’s never been a fan of Billy (MY Comedy HERO) but will admit he’s funny. We have both been long time fans of Kenny Everett.

Billy and Kenny were close mates.

Ruy Lopez Opening : My World!

Ah! Compliments.

You’re looking radiant today, darling

WTF? After 3 nights of disjointed sleep.

You could pass for a teenager with those long, luscious legs

Don’t give me that gorgeous smile of yours every time you say something bad

I Know Him So Well!!!!

P.S. I have a headache and it’s not Christmas yet, love.


P.P.S. This song is from CHESS. Much of which was co-written by Benny and Bjorn. The two B’s in Abba.

The Fourth Way

The Fourth Way addresses the question of humanity’s place in the Universe and the possibilities of inner development. It emphasizes that people ordinarily live in a state referred to as a semi-hypnotic “waking sleep,” while higher levels of consciousness, virtue, unity of will are possible.

Someone is now preaching togetherness. The same someone who has had me banned for 3 years from their channel. Mmmmn.


When I think of the Fourth Way – these three come to mind (after Abba of course)

It’s when a number of completely different people come together and make something bigger than the individuals could ever do alone.

Agnetha had a voice. Frida had a voice. Bjorn and Benny had the music. Together they made something unique and ever-lasting.

Clarkson, Hammond, May – on paper these three are a disaster waiting to happen. Something no one in their right mind would ever even contemplate….

Another ever-lasting, unbelievably stupid, totally bad idea that is still alive and well and much loved by many :o)


I’m all for clean air. FACT!

That’s why I live in the middle of not a very interesting place surrounded by fields. And farmers. And the strange smells that farmers make on their fields.

I’m also a bit of a petrol-head.

A silent car that runs on invisible juice from out of a plug is anathema to me.

Eco-mentalists/Eco-terrorists have a role to play.

Greta Tunaberger has a role to play.

I’m perfectly happy with my 20 year old car (George) and driving around at 30/40mph. Thank you.

P.S. Any faster than that on our country windy wiggly roads and George goes into the shakes and punishes us by drinking far too much petrol.


The Holy Grail but NOT As Y’all Know It.

Done this absolute true life thing too many times before.

MY first viewing of this film was on a night duty at Checkpoint Bravo in Berlin.

This was the entrance into Berlin from Checkpoint Alpha in Helmstedt (did duty there too!) via what we called The Corridor. Which was a long autobahn with no speed limits. YAY. Drove it. Scared myself stupid at over 100 miles an hour.

At Bravo there was a long desk. Us Brits (two) were at the beginning. Two US MP in the middle. Two French MP at the end of the desk.

Mick – my oppo – brought in a portable TV one night and we all watched.

Mick and I were laughing.

The US were sneering.

The French ignored us all :o)

Weird Patterns : From Sparta to Scotland

I watched 300 and had to smile. I had no idea who Gerard Butler was but his Scottish accent kept slipping through.

Himself (the man about the house) just threw me googly by saying that he ACTUALLY missed eating Jock Pies.

Jock Pies recipe.

We used to be able to buy them here, in town. I said WTF? I grew up on them.

When Lily and I went to get the messages, she’d always buy us a Scotch/Jock Pie from the Butcher. Or Baker. Sheesh. It was a long while ago :o)

I’ve made my own but…..:o(

We Know Major Tom’s A Junkie

I’m not a huge Bowie fan. But – a couple of others here, in my home are.

We have original Bowie vinyl albums. Somewhere. Quite a few.

Did you know ?

So they say – Bowie made up Major Tom from the Kubrick film Space Oddity…Odyssey…m’eh. Dunno. Never watched.

WHY is Bowie in my head?

They got a message from the Action Man
“I’m happy, hope you’re happy too
I’ve loved all I’ve needed, love
Sordid details following”

Why is he dressed as a clown?

Just the Messenger, Ma’am. Just the Messenger.

Take On Me (?)

I have such vivid memories of the first time that I heard this song. We’d just moved to Chichester. In those 2 years there, on the Roussillon Barracks Training Camp, quite a bit happened.

1986 – Ukraine got GOT by something nuke-you-lar. Oh. Another boring roundabout story.

1987 – BBC Weather ASSURED us that there was NO HURRICANE coming to England. Absolute fact.

Yeah. I’ve never believed a weather person since. We were trapped inside the barracks by huge old trees all over the place.

Boyce doing A-Ha.

Alcohol Warning – NEVER drink Russian Vodka in a Russian Hotel in East Berlin. Been there. Done that. No wonder they call it a SHOT. I was dead the next day!!!

I Left The Circus To Join Peace & Joy

What price would you pay for peace and joy?

Do you even want P & J?

The English series of The Magic Roundabout was written and narrated by Oscar-Winning Emma Thompson’s Dad. It always played at 5.55pm in the UK. Just before the BBC 6 o’clock News.

Every dang thing these days is a carousel. Round and round – same bs followed by same bs.

This is my way of saying that I’m thoroughly, totally, completely, utterly B O R E D.

Himself is home for 8 days now. So to spice things up, I’ve already told him that I’ll have to get rid of him – somehow, someway *evil grin*

He’s been on his best behaviour this past hour but it won’t last long :o)

Sigh. I’ll just spend the afternoon undoing all the sewing done this morning because I now have 2 right fronts to the dress.

When I’m in a bad mood – I Tell EVERYONE


P.S. These two songs were written because – at the height of their fame – ABBA realised that they had become nothing more than puppets, controlled by outside forces.

A lesson to be learned ?

DunDunDun | CC

Jeebs I can be so childish.

So childish that I still laugh at this film. Staged as it is.

BTW : CC is 200. MM is 2,000. Nothing Masonic there.

BUT – CC wears ORANGE. OMG. Everything is ORANGE. RUN…………The controllers are controlling something-yeah. Whatever.


The Cult of Mithras

I’m an Historian. I learned about the MSHist of this decades ago.
Recent stuff has interfered with my sleep ( makes me antsy?!) and this is about the 3rd week listening to Phil Rickman’s Merrily book The Secrets of Pain.


Because it’s slightly painful and NOT relaxing.

He goes deep, deep, deep into Mithraism as practised by the “Romans” and connects the whole myth with the SAS. Mithras was the SOLDIER’S GOD. And blood was his everything

The murderee is called Mansell BULL who is slaughtered in his own farmyard and the murderer is seen running away, covered in blood

He has a brother called Solus Bull who is tupping D.I Frannie Bliss’s estranged wife and is a popular media hero.

I call BULL shit on this Blood CULT :o)

The Misfits

No. Not the film with Marilyn Munroe, Eli Wallach and Clark Gable.

Me and BFF.

We were thrown together aged 11 at Qegs and are still BFFs.

2 and a half hours later on the phone we’ve covered the good, the bad and the ugly.

Misfits? Yup. Landed in rural Lincolnshire, daughters of a Royal Marine and an RAF pilot.

Bugger the bad and the ugly – we had so much fun on with the good.

For 3 years our class was relegated to porta-cabins. Outside of the main building. Why….?

Somewhere in the shit would be either me, Karen or Alex. Or worse – all of us. The dark, the blonde and the redhead.

Hey, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.

Way back then – fun was NOT #banned. Even the teachers found us quite entertaining. Perfect DETENTION fodder :o)

Write out 500 lines – Stupid is as stupid does.

The four pens sellotaped together worked every time :o)

I Know HIM So Well

It’s OK.

Apparently he has a stalker. So the vid has been cropped at the point where he “actually” thanks me. First time ever….publicly.

But now Hidden History.

But I know him so well that I took a screenshot :o)

Get outta here y’all with dark thoughts.

Once a friend. ALWAYS a friend. Despite the timing being OFF!

No matter how much he annoys/angers/frustrates/makes me want to commit murder most foul. The stinking “expletive deleted.”

Men Behaving Badly

When this first came on TV I Hated it. No surprise here – HE loved it.

Many times MANY years later, I bought the entire box set and started watching it again.

Guess what?

We are now older, have kids, been through a ton of B.S……HE hates it. I LOVE IT.

What I’d (and he’d) never appreciated in our 20’s was the subtle but absolutely ingenuous strength/knowing/patience/commitment of both Dorothy and Deborah.

Pissed men on your sofa acting like nob-‘eads —- not attractive.

Nor is Uncle Iain and their father wandering round a pitch black 2 acre garden with a huge pond. We found their father head first in the raspberry bushes muttering and my brother sleeping in the rockery!!!


Dyeing Today!

Wow! I took my life in my hands and allowed HIMSELF to dye my hair this morning.

Never, ever having done this before, he bigged himself up as a natural talent (!!)

OK. My hair is such a dark brown that most people see it as black but….It has natural red highlights so it’s technically dark brown. Pure black hair has a blueish highlight.

I started going grey when I was 17. Just a streak of grey and used to colour my hair all the time.

It’s been around 10 years now since a chemical dye went near my head so the lovely streak of grey has multiplied from a narrow line to around 20% of my dome

. And – to be perfectly honest – I just feel old and dowdy and extremely unattractive.

Grow old gracefully, my arse.

I chose a colour that perfectly matches my natural dark brown, almost black.


A son read the instructions, his father mixed all the ingredients and…

…Apparently I shouted a lot throughout the entire thing.

Shrug. I think they may be exaggerating :o)

Anyhoo. I’m now a piebald. Black and ginger. YAY!

Sparrowhawks and Dracula

OK. This is year 3 or 4 of Sparrowhawks in our garden.

Amazing birds but (like Dracula) birds of prey.

Peep.Peep.Peep.Peep. All day and all night.

The garden is now sans (without) sparrows, tits, wrens. The blackbirds are skitty. The pigeons too. And the baby rabbits need eyes in the top of their heads and their behinds. Hawk or cat.

Where am I going?

Well. The peep peep is insistent. I wake up in the night and thrash around and somehow make the audiobook go from Poirot to Bram Stoker.

All roads lead to Transylvania. Done this too many times to take myself seriously.

Today I’ll be a UnBovvered/Irreverent Historian.

Woof says Van Helsing. One could write a song called Woof, yes?

P.S. When I posted here about my Shamanic Journey with Leslie Kenton and meeting a my totem animal – a WOLF – UAV had such fun with this fact over more than one platform.

What goes around, comes around. WHICH WITCH IS WHICH?

I gave all my support to a totally vile and undeserving person and gained 4 years of hell and damnation.

Gotta love a “Christian.”

Wrong person

wrong place.

Wrong time.

LEARN THE LESSON and move on up (?)

Dhows & The Sheraton Creek, Dubai

We stayed here a few times. It’s in Old Dubai and away from the tourist centre.

After a totally exhausting day doing business, me, he, youngest son and his sister (who also worked for us) would meet in the Chelsea Bar of an evening to mull over everything.

ShhShush. One of the barmaids fell head over heels for son. But he was spoken for.

Side Note : We’d always DESCEND into a Tall Story telling competition. Tut!

Anyway and by the by…..

The Sheraton Creek is right by where Michael Palin caught his dhow from Dubai to Mumbai.

We used to watch the boats on the water, underneath the stars.

Coronation Chicken – My Way!

Yes. We all know the story. It was created for Betty when she was made Queenie in 1953.

I’m doing a simple tea today. Kind of like a ploughman’s but a bit different… and I had a truly brilliant idea (?!)

Coronation Chicken, but without the chicken and with teeny Jersey Royal potatoes and 7 minute hard boiled/soft boiled eggs – all squished together (roughly diced to use a proper cookery term.) With a carelessly artful dash of powdered Smoked Paprika on top.

Hecking Delicious. I’m a genius :o)

I’m a Suicide Survivor. Here’s What I Learned. (It’s uplifting, I promise.)

I’ve had so much respect for Cathy Hay for a long time. Her videos have both helped and bamboozled me over the years.

She is best known as a seamstress/sewer/tailor/creator of garments/clothing historian.

Why did she connect with me so well? How did I understand or even recognise that innate sadness deep inside?

BTW – I never saw any bright lights or welcoming faces. I saw only a darkness too deep and too terrifying ever to give in to it. My place was HERE. Despite my inability to cope with the pain of living. Dying is easy….living is hard.

God’s Honest Truth.

Sellotape on My Knees :o)

Keeping busy here.

I’ve downloaded a beautiful boho dress pattern that I should’ve started making about 3 hours ago.

Dagnabit. PDF patterns. 60 odd pages. All over the floor. Paper. Ink. Sellotape. Not a single line matches. Cat with muddy paws sitting right in the middle of it all, licking her paws and being inscrutable. Gnash!

Lavender linen and a swish “all season” dress WILL come together. Soon-ish.

Loving this.

Melba Toast

I first made this when I was 12 years old, working in the restaurant next door. Where my Mother worked as a BAR PERSON.

It was owned by the people who lived right across the road from us. They also owned the garage – also right outside my bedroom window.

Anyway and apropos of ?

I made Melba Toast today.

Jeebuth. STILL got the touch, about a century later.

Some weirdo in the house would wolf it down with caviar (aka Nicola Sturgeon – F1RST VIP of Scotland ?)

I prefer it with Pâté or as we call it PATE as in…oh, never mind. Just smoke a HAMLET.

Why? Why? Why? Mummy….!

I remember (vividly) the exact time that I had no answer for my children’s constant questioning.

Up to a certain age you have a perfectly valid and sane answer to their unending questions.

And THEN………

Comes THE question that blows your brain.

No. Not sex. It can be any question about anything that you are forced to answer with – I DON’T KNOW. If you are an honest, loving caring parent.

I remember VIVIDLY the day my eldest son said to me – “Mummy. Why can’t you answer my question? I thought you knew everything.”

Me. Being ME replied. “My lovely boy, some things are not answerable by me. YOU have to find your own answer.”

That’s why I went through years of distance from the grandparents for not having either of my boys “christened” in church.

Thankfully their father agreed with the total hypocrisy of it all (church christening with all the trimmings and BS) and let me let THEM choose their own faith.

They are both grown men now and I can still threaten to slap their bums. Even though they are much taller and wider than me :o)


And it makes for great, far-ranging, uncontrolled and immensely enlightening discussions!!!!!!

The video below is about teaching his son how to TELL TIME and the difference between Hour and Our.

Jeebuth. I love a person who loves words and how to dissect them :o)

P.S. I was told this morning that I have a mannerism for when I “angry” speak. I always preface with the word ERRRR.

As in Errr – not a hope in hell. Or Errr- Of course, my darling.


I STILL pick them up on words that have 2 T’s in but neither are enunciated.


SOS: Save Our Souls or Mayday or M’aider

A bit of a mix and match here.

A bit of Dracula, a bit of French, a bit of English and a bit of Irish.

A bit of Agatha, a bit of Chris, a bit of Ian Fleming, a bit of Wicker (Straw) Man.

A bit of my sixth form (lower) common room and our music battles.

A lot of life. Lived and loved and so very grateful for.

Thank you.

P.S. I’ll take Chris de Burgh over Blob Dylan any day 😮

P.P.S. It’s all blibs and blobs to me.

Dancing in the Moonlight

The “mad, bad, dangerous to know” girl (my favourite traveller-in-crime) & I danced in the moonlight a few times. Paris. Rome. Dubai. Venice. On a plane. In a car in the Chunnel. In wales. On my kitchen table…………

The most memorable was about 2am. In Dubai. Walking from the bar to our rooms. Via the swimming pool.

Our feet were hot so we danced in the shallow end. Kicking water at each other.

Aaah. The crazy things we do.

Happy Birthday – my gorgeous girl :o)

It’s Not Just an Oirish t’ing, ya ken?

It’s a fault (or gift) of the Scots too. Especially Highlanders.

P.S. I was not ever the favourite child either. I was a girl. The other two were boys. My mother was not good at hiding this but Dad was just….A David.

I got over it the day we cleared out his flat, after his funeral.

My father had kept every single Xmas and birthday card I’d sent him since leaving home at 17.

The feckin’ eedjit :o)

Open All Hours

I’ve said for years that what this village needs is a General Store. Especially in deep mid-winter when going down hill in the snow is more akin to a Grand Slalom than a trip to the local town. But there are no suitable buildings available.

In town though….OMG. There are too many empty buildings up for rent. Some are gorgeous old Victorian Retail buildings.

In the past ten/fifteen years we’ve lost so much access to BASIC stuff. The rise of the internet has slammed private retailers.

Having set up three businesses from scratch, I’m considering doing it again.


A place to buy —-

Paint, String Vests, Hammers, Socks, Chainsaws, Beeswax, Feather Dusters, Saucepans, Wallpaper, CANDLES, Borax, Fly Papers, A Casserole Dish, Picture Hooks, Rope, WD40, Shake ‘n Vac, A Door Knob, Knicker Elastic, Tent Poles, Fancy Hats, Apple Corers, Distilled Water, 3 inch Grub Screws, A Bottle of Cristal Champagne, A Cuddly Toy…..YAY!


Jeeebs – I sound like I’m remembering the conveyor belt prizes.

Early 2000’s with Jim Davidson – my boys loved this show.

Edward Woodward

The clip of Wicker Man reminded me of an interview Edward Woodward did many years ago. He mentioned this quote but google is confused about who actually said it. Was it Noel Coward or John Gielgud or insert name?

Anyway – “Edward Woodward… Edward Woodward… sounds like a fart in the bath.”

We’ve lost so much innocence in the world today.

I’ll bring it back with Fart in a Bath and Morecambe and Wise.


Beef Wellington

My eldest boy’s birthday on Sunday.

I’d already decided what to cook for him…!

When asked by his father what he wanted as a Birthday Treat.

Oh. Mother KNOWS?

Yup. His favourite ever, ever meal.

I don’t do the squished mushrooms, I use mushroom pate. And make individual ones.

OK. Off to rob the local bank so that I can afford 4 small fillet steaks. Don’t tell ANYONE :o)

The Young Ones

I grew up with Mr & Mrs TV Controller.

But I miss my beloved, weird parents so much :o)

I was #banned from watching so many TV programmes.

Fawlty Towers. Monty Python. THE YOUNG ONES.

And several more.

Strange but true. My boys and I sometimes speak in TV Comedy Show Quote Language.

Like – You give my arse an ‘eadache

Or – Rude, Mr Fawlty. RUDE.

Or – Harry the Bastard.

My boy’s father was named HARRY the BASTARD when he was the P.T.I. at Chichester R.M.P. Training Depot.

I grew up.

Or did I?

Learning New Skills

I’m feeling very S M U G today.

For about 2 weeks George, the car, has had no water in the windscreen water washer thingy.

Yup. I’ll do it tomorrow.


Yup. I’ll do it tomorrow.


So I did it. Bearing in mind that I had no idea how to get under the bonnet of a very old Ford Mondeo. FIRST job to figure out.

Flip the badge on the radiator grill, insert ignition key, half turn left followed by half turn right.

Couldn’t be simpler!!!!!

Then youngest son came out and “helped.”

We need more oil, Mother. More stuff for the radiator (?) and something else that went right over my head and into never-neverland.

Clarkson, May & Hammond would be proud of me…..LMFAO :p

P.S. Running out of fuel was a chargeable offence in H.M. Forces. Fact!