DAILY UPDATE SCRAPPED

Now that Boris has scrapped the daily pandemic update, I feel it’s my civic duty to fill the gap by providing one of my own.  Today’s top news includes:

The Government has ordered a heatwave to kill coronavirus germs as its efforts to provide adequate test and trace services have been about as effective as a packet of polo mints. 

Are the pubs open yet?

Half of Birmingham migrated to Dorset on the hottest day of the summer, boosting local sales of turmeric and garam masala but leaving the town ‘trashed’ in the words of Vikki Slade (personage in charge of PooBo Council).  I believe someone heard her say “Keep out scum as next time, we’re calling in the army” as she nipped behind a beach hut for a quick pee.

Keep your germs to yourself in your own home town

A second wave of stupidity has been predicted by scientists as the nation continues to blatantly ignore all government advice.  Pubs due to re-open on 4 July are preparing safety lock-in measures to keep punters continually supping beer in case the death toll continues to rise.  Hairdressers have oiled the sheep shearers ready for an influx of hirsute northerners who can’t be bothered with the beach.  Theatres will be allowed to broadcast live performances of ‘Look I’m A Tree’ from behind closed doors.

Marketing posters appearing in local and national tabloids have been revised to appeal to the more juvenile members of the population because let’s face it, the original lot are as boring as ***k.  Here’s a sneak preview of a few I prepared earlier:

Protective headgear recommended in public places

Test and Trace - works a treat on farters

Keep the toilet lid down and wash your bits

Remember, we’re all in it together when times are shit but it’s every man for themselves when the gravy train is running. 

Stay Inert.  Troll the Pariahs.  Eat Pies.

GNOCCHI YOURSELF OUT

Cooking has provided me with endless joy and therapy over the years.  That culinary symphony of snips, chops, sizzle and mix is guaranteed to put a smile on your face and a rumble in your belly.  Mmmm - if only you could bottle the smell of freshly baked bread or steaming casserole or turn it into a Venison Ragout scented Yankee candle.

Inspiration comes from many sources (sauces?).  There’s the good old ‘just chuck it all in a pan’ voyage of discovery or there are the mouth-watering photos in cookbooks, quirky little YouTube videos or cooking made easy TV programmes such as Gordon Ramsay’s Ultimate Cookery Course which I’ve been compulsively watching whilst clacking away on my latest knitting project.

Homemade gnocchi with peas and parmesan not only sounds delicious but looked relatively simple to prepare or at least that’s the case when Gordon does it.

Only looks good from a distance

So I made up my gnocchi ‘dough’ as per the recipe then dropped each piece into a pan of boiling water.  Are these ‘floaters’ supposed to resemble wet clumps of recycled toilet tissue?  Maybe they’ll look amazing after a pasta perma-tan in the frying pan. 

Pan fry your gnocchi parcels

Have you ever tried to fry gnocchi?  Well if you haven’t done it before let me tell you that these little potato parcels are slippery buggers.  Flipping them over so they don’t break is almost as challenging as a one legged man with no fingers bending down to tie his shoelaces.  Mine ended up looking like a dog’s dinner.  No hang on, even Pedigree Chum looks like sirloin when compared to this mess.

Keep the faith.  Maybe once I’ve added the grated lemon zest, peas and parmesan cheese it’ll look as tasty as Gordon’s.  Actually no but if I close my eyes when I taste it then I can imagine it does.  And talking of taste – seriously if I wanted to eat spicy mashed spuds and peas then I could have just chucked it all in a pan to make bubble & squeak which would have been easier.  Next time, its packet gnocchi.

This sorry mess only tasted of potato - texture awful

Marks out of ten?  Sorry Gordon, this dog’s not even out of the trap in the race to win over my taste buds.  Here’s the best place for this recipe.

Always recycle unwanted recipes

SOLD!

Oh how the world of buying and selling property has changed since I last moved house 20 years ago.  Gone are the never-ending phone calls to estate agents and solicitors as thanks to the technological revolution everything is now done online.

Still can't believe its happening

Set aside half a day, a jar of coffee and a mountain of snacks to complete your online conveyancing.  You’ll need a caffeine boost every hour and brain food to wade through the plethora of online forms that need filling in and the uploading of documentation to confirm everything from your knicker size to bank details.  My finger tips are bleeding.

Are we nearly done?

Filling out the lengthy Fixtures & Fittings Questionnaire, you do begin to wonder what kind of people there are out there judging by some of the things being asked.  Are you going to leave behind the light switches?  Duh!  Can I really be bothered to unscrew every single one just to save a few pennies?  Well of course I’m leaving them behind, you legal Llama. My name is not Scrooge McDuck!  (Although I’ll probably take the lace nets if I can shorten them to fit the new windows).

Do people moving house really take light switches with them?

The surveyor phoned to confirm I’m not buying a pup which is just as well because at £349,000, it’d be the most expensive dog in history.  (Technically it isn’t as according to Google a golden haired Tibetan mastiff once sold for around $2,000,000 a few years ago – what?) 

A survey may seem like a superfluous expense when you’re already shelling out hundreds but I can’t stress the importance of getting one done before you commit to your purchase.  Not cheap either.  Be prepared to part with anything from £500 to £800 for a random geezer to poke about in your particulars.  Just make sure they’re professionally experienced and qualified before you wave bye bye to your dosh. 

Luckily, ours has flagged nothing major on our new Chichester home but imagine if the house of your dreams was riddled with rising damp or subsidence?  Better to find these things out up front before you sign on the dotted line.  

UNDER OFFER

My brain has gone from lockdown to ballistic this morning at the thought that someone has finally made an offer on our house. And we’ve accepted it!

I want to swing from the chandeliers, run, shout, laugh, cry and tell the whole world all at the same time.   I’m so excited, I feel like rushing outside and kissing people!  Okay so perhaps that last bit will have to wait a few more weeks but maybe it’s alright to just pogo on the driveway like an exuberant puppy whilst wearing a facemask.  What will the neighbours think?  What do I care?   Today the world is a happy clappy place to be in.

Our buyers seem lovely, a nice young family with a couple of kids who were more interested in Shelby than in exploring their soon to be nice new home.  I’m so glad it’s not some rip-the-guts-out property developer who would have turned this beautiful house into a dozen cramped bedsits just to make a few quid but a family who might cherish the place as much as we have.

And so after a frantic flurry of phone calls, emails, preparing checklists and filling in web questionnaires, we are officially ‘under offer’ which means we can now begin to move things along with our own property purchase in Chichester. 

I’m keeping this brief partly because my head feels like it’s trying to contain a beehive and also because I don’t want to jinx it.  It’s so exciting!

Keep Calm?  But I'm Spanish

POOPY PROTOCOL

Morning has broken!  Who’s gonna fix it?

Got into work this morning to find a brightly coloured ‘Poopy Protocol’ sign had mysteriously appeared on the door to the Ladies loo.  Although there are only 6 key workers occupying our office building, it appears we all need re-educating on the correct procedure to follow if you suddenly feel the need for number ones or number twos. 

Going to the loo?  It's more complicated than you think

Here’s what the Poopy Protocol recommended to keep you safe in the ‘New Normal’:

1)  You must look both left and right to ensure the coast is clear before crossing the corridor to the toilet door.

2)  Once outside the main toilet door, peer furtively through the narrow glass partition window to check for signs of life, alien or otherwise.

3)  Without actually touching anything, push open the door.  I find a swift boot thrust works wonders on a swing door, just make sure you clear the return trajectory quickly if you don’t want to be forking out for a nose job later.

4)  Inside the lavatory, shout out to alert other humans to your germ infested presence.  ‘I need a shit’ bellowed loudly will not only be heard by the occupants of the flats over the road but should clear any occupied cubicles in seconds.

5)  Only 1 person is allowed in at any given time.  Phew, what a relief!  I’d hate to be sharing my cubicle with anyone else especially when I’m giving flight clearance to a monster turd at the Crapwick Airport. 

6)  Conduct your business quickly and with minimal touching of surroundings or anything else.  Yep that means no sneaky wanks, nose picking, bidding on Ebay, sexting on Tinder or reading the Guardian and that’s just for users of the ladies loo, the list of ‘Do Nots’ for the gents would fill this blog.

7)  Wash your hands and anything else if you can get it to reach the sink with the skin-drying, eczema flaring, disgustingly gloopy sanitising solution we’ve procured at great expense from some dubious third world country. 

8)  Don’t blow dry your Venus Fly-trap under the air dryers, dab it dry with a paper towel instead.

9)  Fold your sleeve over your fingers (but not the one you sneezed in earlier) to grab the door handle then exit swiftly taking care not to lick any walls or windows on the way back to your desk.

If you follow this Poopy Protocol to the letter not only will you receive a recognition email from the Top Knob himself as being the saviour of mankind but you’ll most certainly be certifiably dubbed the ‘Office Loon’ for the next decade. 

Whoops!  I think I need a pee ….  CLEAR THE DECKS ….

BEST BEFORE

There’s been a great deal of media speculation since the ‘sticky buns’ pandemic first kicked off about best before dates printed on food items as scarcity of some things has forced many of us to dig deep into our larders only to uncover the equivalent of Inca gold in those dark forgotten recesses.

Ah, here’s the strawberry jelly I bought for the Queen’s jubilee! Rummage, rummage.  Ooh look - there’s that jar of stem ginger pieces last used during the Renaissance period and this fabulous 6 year old sachet of satay mix is marinating tomorrow’s chicken skewers.  Who knows what else is awaiting discovery?

2014 - a jolly good year

Heh, heh!  We’re no strangers to eating food that’s well past its sell by or best before date and living proof that it’s OK to do so.  I hate food waste.  My thinking is pretty much along the same lines as the ‘5 second rule’ – if it’s in an airtight can, box or packet that’s never been opened then it’s fair game for the dinner table.  If I’m not online next week, you’ll know what’s happened - Colonel Mustard, satay sauce, kitchen.

For sale!

Meanwhile, property news flash!  We’re online!  Our house is now on Rightmove, Zoopla and all those other property porn sites everyone secretly accesses from their mobile phones whilst in the toilet.  I’m waiting for all those buyers chomping at the bit to bite my hand off with their spectacular offers.  Come on, where are you?  You know you couldn’t bear another 5 minutes in your own squalor-hole during lockdown so why aren’t you booking a viewing?  Say again – what do you mean they’re all down at Durdle Door?  Covidiots!!

Coastguard safety alert - no tombstoning!  Muppets!!

Well while the online viewing diary is filling up with ‘non appointments’, here’s an update on what’s happening behind the hedge at the bottom of the garden.

Fruit and veg are busting out all over. It’s going to be another bumper year for berries or anything else full of home-grown nutritional value by the look of things.

Tomato plants I've grown from seed

One's I bought earlier from Wilko

Unlike the Premiership, peas are already in the back of the net.

Mangetout peas climbing up the net teepee

Has beans?  Yes we are and lots!

Dwarf French runner beans - so tasty

A river of jam is soon to be flowing through Charminster judging by the amount of berries in eyeshot and figs, well they don’t give one but many.

First signs of redcurrants

Explosion of blackberries

Blackcurrant bushes looking bushy

Strawberries and cream - yes please!

I don't give a fig about Covid

If we’re unlucky, we’ll be reaping the bounteous harvest in a few months’ time but if we’re lucky, then the new owners will.