Not so Lively

I've previously only read one other novel by Penelope Lively, and loved it. I had asked Lady M to buy a few Agatha Christie paperbacks from Oxfam, but she came back with this. Moon Tiger.

I do enjoy Lively's style of writing. It's a cross between stream of consciousness and the clipped, dark, descriptive writing of Dylan Thomas. Intelligent and provocative.

The narrative in this one is a bit slow. It follows the lives of a woman, her mother, her brother, and various family friends and relations. I would have preferred a more interesting story-line, however, the writing is so meticulous that I still enjoyed reading it.

The book discusses the inevitability of life and death; the past and the future. I finished it feeling slightly depressed.

Next book; Agatha Christie. Poirot is on the case at Pollensa Bay, and elsewhere, in a book of short stories. A very different kettle of fish! Of the six or so short stories, I only found three to be worthy of her reputation.

 

Bargains!

 

When I go to Sainsbury's for my big shopping trip of the week (yesterday), I tend to be given several vouchers with my lengthy printed receipt.

Recently I've been having £10.50 off any bill above £70.

I've also had 245 Nectar points with a litre of Olive oil.

70 Nectar points with a pack of Tenderstem Broccoli spears.

and 100 Nectar points with a pack of Chorizo cooking Sausages; to name just a few.

I noticed yesterday that I saved over £22 on my shopping bill, and I already have over £24 on my Nectar card, which I shall keep to buy the December Turkey.

I do know that I'm being 'tempted' by all these special offers, but I would never buy anything I didn't want. I do have plenty of Olive oil in the house, but the bottle I bought yesterday will simply go into the cupboard until required.

Yesterday I spent nearly £100 on my big shopping trip, and to get £22 off is extremely welcome. I bought a lot of wine, a leg of lamb, and some salmon for the freezer, amongst other things.

My equivalent shopping in France at Leclerc, gives me almost nothing on my loyalty card; just a few miserable Euros after a whole year.

Couscous

I know I do go on about Couscous from time to time, but I am an evangelical fan!  

I love all the stages of making Couscous. I love preparing the meat and vegs (below) for the Tagine, I enjoy the cooking process, and of course I enjoy eating the result. The preparation of the couscous itself is simply a matter of introducing the grains of couscous to some boiling water.

Ingredients for Tagine: Cheap cuts of either Lamb or Chicken, Chunky cut Aubergine, Courgette, Potato, Peppers, some chopped Preserved Lemon, a small tin of Chickpeas, Cumin powder, Ras al Hanout, a squirt of Harissa, garlic, and S & P. This is slow cooked in the morning for about an hour, then re-heated when required. I made enough (above) for two days. Serve with the heated Couscous. 

To prepare Couscous (for the uninitiated): Pour grains into a glass bowl, then only just cover with boiling water. After a couple of minutes begin to separate the grains with a fork, continue every few minutes until you have a bowl of individual swelled grains. Put aside.

Personally I add a tiny splash of olive oil, some dried mint, cumin seeds, some turmeric (I like the colour), and salt to the Couscous, before giving one further mix and popping into the microwave for 1.5 mins. Your Couscous it now ready; it should be light and fluffy.

We eat Couscous at least once a week, and I never tire of it. Once one is used to the process it becomes a really simple dish to prepare. This one (above) which was leftovers from the previous day, was accompanied by some merguez sausages which I recently bought in Dieppe. We ate it last night.

People often say to me that it all looks so complicated, but it isn't at all. And for those who've never eaten Couscous, I say DO SO IMMEDIATELY.

 

Fayed

 

The revelations and accusations concerning Mohamed Fayed come as no surprise. Over 200 women have now come forward with accusations of rape or sexual assault.

He was well known for being one of the most scheming and underhand people of his era. He wheedled his way into the highest echelons of British society, whilst behaving like a monster behind closed doors.

He also managed to introduce his son, Dodi, to Diana Spencer (the ex-Princess of Wales), and encouraged their affair. She was no stranger to affairs, but Fayed made sure that everyone knew of his son's involvement this time round; for obvious reasons. As we all know, it ended badly, but Fayed had already successfully managed to infiltrate the royal family. He also claimed that Ms Spencer had been pregnant at the time of her death. It was said that Fayed very much hoped that Ms Spencer would marry his son, a Muslim, as a poke in the eye for GB.

Fayed was 'dodgy' from the beginning. His wealth came from dubious business deals, and he used his connections to pressurise. 

He seemed to think that he could act with impunity, which I suppose he did. But life always catches-up with you, even in death,

Personally I think it's a shame that Fayed's victims didn't come forward while he was still alive. A spell at Her/His Majesty's pleasure would have been extremely well deserved; it might have knocked some of that bloody arrogance out of him too.

The ups and downs.

Life is never easy for politicians, even after a 'landslide victory' coming from a general election.

This survey, by a Co called 'Opinium', shows the popularity of our politicians after nearly 100 days since a new Socialist government was installed at No 10.

As you can see, Sir Freebie 'Sausage' Starmer has less approval than Farage, and more disapproval than Sunak.

Farage appears to be the most popular (which I find strange), and with Sir 'Jet-ski' Davey having the least disapproval.

I don't think I've ever known a new PM's popularity dropping so quickly (other than Liz Truss). But if you clobber old age pensioners, and hand out big money to paymaster Rail Union members (whilst accepting freebies left right and centre), what else could you expect.

On the 'Alternative Political Front', I see that the RHT boss, Mick 'the grinch' Lynch, is threatening to take control of the UK economy. He wants the economy to be controlled by the Unions, with powers to close down any industry that refuses to meet their demands. The last time a Union leader tried that was by Scargill, when he successfully closed down the whole of the UK's Coal Mining industry.

N.B. Mick 'the grinch' Lynch's Union (the RHT) controls Railways, Shipping, and all other Transport. If he really wanted to, he could easily do another Scargill.

I despair, yet again!

 

51 years ago.

I think it was during the Easter school holidays in 1973; I was 25 years old, and was on holiday in S W France. I lived on the N Wales/Shropshire border at the time, but was teaching down in Sussex. 

We just happened to look in an Estate Agent's window, and saw a property advertised that grabbed my attention. The agent said he'd take us to look at it, and we drove quite some distance south to a tiny village in what looked like a perfect setting.

We pulled-up outside the gates (below), and I could immediately see that the property was not only extensive, but also very beautiful. It had a huge range of stone barns and outbuildings, and also came with one hectare of land and a very productive Chestnut wood.

"I'll have it" I said almost at once. It simply had that look about it that was difficult to say no.

The UK was still not yet in The Common Market at that time, and buying foreign property was filled with pitfalls. We had to pay a 10% deposit, and had six months to find the rest of the money (or lose the deposit). I had to return to Blighty, put my house on the market, and deal with all the seemingly endless administration (including a medical examination in Harley Street). It was a crazy six months. We actually arrived at the French lawyer's office with just one day to spare. 

I had driven down with all our furniture in the back of a hired van. When we arrived at the house, the wife of the vendor family was there to greet us (the house hadn't been lived in for a few years, and she'd ben doing some basic cleaning). She went to the barn, brought out a bale of hay, and placed it in the huge fireplace. When I saw her lighting it, I imagined the whole house burning to the ground. Luckily it didn't.

I cannot remember how or when we had the water and electricity connected.

That day was in September 1973, exactly 51 years ago.

In those carefree days, I took everything in my stride. The administration was endless, the financial side was a nightmare, and my French at that time was 'schoolboy rudimentary'. I certainly wouldn't do it today, even though the process is far more simple.

I must have been friggin' crazy.

 

It's 'Conkers' season.

At Prep' School, I was a big Conkers fan and player. At this time of year I was seldom without a few Conkers, some string, and a skewer in my pocket; the three essentials for any Conker aficionado.

We had all sort of scams for hardening Conkers. Some steeped them in Vinegar, others 'laid them down' for 12 months, some cooked them in ovens. I, on the other hand, had a much better idea.

Father had an old thick plank of Mahogany in his shed. I sawed about an inch and a half off one end, and cut it into small squares. These I whittled into Conker shaped spheres, and painted them to look indistinguishable from the real thing. Once a hole was drilled through the middle, I was in business.  

I can't actually recall using them in anger, I was probably too ashamed, but I'm sure I showed them around. Anyway, the idea was good, and I would have become a supreme champion; until found-out!

I doubt if school children are allowed to play Conkers these days; the elf-n-safety, woke, dungaree wearing lovies wouldn't allow it. The little darlings might hurt themselves.