I'm afraid I think it is rude comments that inflame the situation and I have received more than one private message from those who feel that I am speaking for them. I usually try to deal with things with a sense of humour and I am not in the habit of insulting people. The truth is that I think - if the cap fits, wear it. I am not being personal to you, Geoff, since I have never known you to be rude.
However, I agree. Let's move on. Let's do it with humour and respect.
Frank, I truly could not boil an egg when I married many years ago and had never done anything in the kitchen except wash up. I had a lovely Mum who treated me like a queen. However, I must have subconsciously taken in what she did as I turned out to be a pretty good cook. No fancy stuff as my Dad liked plain English food. My daughter, on the other hand manages to overcook everything because she's afraid of food poisoning. Both sons are OK in the kitchen as is grandson. Younger son and grandson both had cookery lessons at school. The teacher always knew which was my Grandson's plate of food because of the portions! He actually took a GCSE in it as his 'fun' subject.
Perhaps the powers that be would like to take this subject out of the curriculem but school doesn't have to be all work, no play. Kids need a bit of fun now and then.
I have a daughter in law who is a really good cook so my confidence in my cooking skills is low. At one time, I used to cook dinners for up to 50 people - main course only, I was not up to doing the desserts. People thought I was a great cook, which I found a laugh, since the main recommendation for my food was the size of the portions. Plain English food sums up my cooking all right - but Welsh portion sizes (large).Here is a poem about the Welsh attitude to food. It goes to the tune of 'Mud, mud, glorious mud.'
'Food, food, glorious food,
Nothing quite like it for improving the mood.
So follow me follow,
Down to the canteen
And there let us wallow
In glorious food.'
Apologies to other Welsh people - I'm just tarring the whole nation with my own brush!
OOps, suspect you will get your wrists slappped GG.
Many years ago, before I had children, I agreed to have my next door neighbours girls for the day so they could go on a works trip on the Thames. I was provided with tuna sandwiches for one, as she would eat nothing else, chocolate spread for another and the eldest would eat whatever we were having. Vowed I would never get into this habit when I had children.
Several years later, was preparing dinner for 5 and realised it was like being in a cafe! 5 different meals, as I had succombed to preparing what each one wanted rather than just plonk a meal in front of them. It stopped there.
10 guests has been my limit GG and that used to give me a nervous breakdown and take a week to get over.
It wasn't in my home, Tina. It was in the church across the road and took me two days to shop, prepare and cook. I enjoyed it because of the challenge involved in getting it all out there hot and fooling everyone into thinking that it was well-cooked. It was usually a roast dinner and other people would cook the puddings. Then I'd collapse for a couple of days and hypocritically receive congratulations from people.
My Mother taught me to cook because boys should be able to look after themselves. It was basic as rationing did mean you had to see what was there we had our own small holding and animals so never went hungry, bread was a basic and wash day with a hot steamy wash house was ideal for raising the dough.
Once we got away from base in the Desert fresh food lasted a day then it was all dry or tinned. No kitchen as such each section would look after their own food breakfast before sun up then an evening meal at sundown, to hot to eat in between. A soldier would cook the section meals but our lot dragooned me into doing all the cooking as it got me out of guard duties I got a nights sleep. The Officers of all the sections threw their rations in with our section and ate with us. I had a box of spices picked up in the Souk, we had dried everything from rice to fruit, Pom Dried Cabbage and of course Bully beef everything cooked on Benghazi burners. My recovery truck would have fruit being re hydrated in water, cabbage being brought back to life all for the evening meal, which could be a curry, Panackelty, sheperds pie or any of many rice based concoctions and always a pudding. The Officers would wash all the tins as their input. Three years at cookery when I retired gave me cake making and the one I really loved raised pies hand made. As with everything you make mistakes and learn from them now my Grandchildren want to come and eat here, well everyday if they could, now that does please me.
You've had a rich life, Frank. The wisdom of the past illuminates the present.
I had a lovely morning before the heavy rain started yesterday planting hellebores. Verdun stimulated my interest in them and I must say they look fabulous mixed with lots of little tete-a-tete daffodils. I love these but I'm just beginning to wonder how on earth I can plant new stuff in the autumn when the soil is full of their bulbs.
So here's a new rant, as befits an MOB. (A number of people would now agree that this is what I am!) When God made bulbs why, oh why, did He not make them with a permanent tag? Didn't He realise gardeners would need to know where they are?
I haven't been struck dead so I think I can safely say that He has a sense of humour! He must have, since He created camels.( Apologies in advance if I have offended anyone. I have a deep love and respect for God.)
More seriously, I'd really like an answer to this problem with bulbs. I suppose markers in the soil, but there would be so many of them. I know bulbs can be replanted but there is such a risk of slicing them as you dig.
Good Morning GG,Clear skies over here in Clogher head cold at the moment temp 1c but the day has promise , the late GH and Monty recommend that if you have a multitude of bulbs corms and tubers ,that you plant them in shallow bowls /pots with the Base cut out ,as each flower come to the end of its season the bowl / pot is re-placed with another similar bowl / pot of what you would like to grow in its place .hope this idea helps , yes I know its not a rant
Thanks Derek. It is a good idea, The problem is, in a small garden stuffed with plants, that there isn't really room to dig a hole big enough to bury the pots and even less room by the time one needs to dig them up because other plants are developing. I did think of having bulbs in pots only, but they just look so glorious naturalised in the borders with the hellebores. I guess I just want the best of all worlds - and that's not possible unless you have pots of cash!
I'm proud to be an MOB! Do hate apathy. That's first rant for the day. Too many people moan and get up in arms about certain things, but never actually do anything about it. I have to put pen to paper, or rather fingers to laptop, otherwise things just fester in my mind. No, I'm not a miserable old biddy, quite the opposite really.
Right, second, the b....dy weather. Pouring with rain and blowing a gale. Is there no end?
That is a very good idea Derek and one which I will put into practice later this year. Much easier way of doing things. Do like to keep it simple. Don't quite have the same energy that I used.
Frank, I think the younger generation are more capable in the kitchen than men of my generation. Very few of my friends OH's were competent to produce a meal. Wish my OH had learned to cook. The one time he had to get a meal for the kids, when asked how it was, they said the sausages were black. As for my Dad, after my Mum passed away, popped in one day to find he had tried to, of all things, to cook himself some chips. Outside the kitchen door was a dark stain and a sorry looking fryer. He just said 'Well, I waited for the oil to boil, like your Mother used to'. From then on, I took over.
Posts
I'm afraid I think it is rude comments that inflame the situation and I have received more than one private message from those who feel that I am speaking for them. I usually try to deal with things with a sense of humour and I am not in the habit of insulting people. The truth is that I think - if the cap fits, wear it. I am not being personal to you, Geoff, since I have never known you to be rude.
However, I agree. Let's move on. Let's do it with humour and respect.
Frank, I truly could not boil an egg when I married many years ago and had never done anything in the kitchen except wash up. I had a lovely Mum who treated me like a queen. However, I must have subconsciously taken in what she did as I turned out to be a pretty good cook. No fancy stuff as my Dad liked plain English food. My daughter, on the other hand manages to overcook everything because she's afraid of food poisoning. Both sons are OK in the kitchen as is grandson. Younger son and grandson both had cookery lessons at school. The teacher always knew which was my Grandson's plate of food because of the portions! He actually took a GCSE in it as his 'fun' subject.
Perhaps the powers that be would like to take this subject out of the curriculem but school doesn't have to be all work, no play. Kids need a bit of fun now and then.
I have a daughter in law who is a really good cook so my confidence in my cooking skills is low. At one time, I used to cook dinners for up to 50 people - main course only, I was not up to doing the desserts. People thought I was a great cook, which I found a laugh, since the main recommendation for my food was the size of the portions. Plain English food sums up my cooking all right - but Welsh portion sizes (large).Here is a poem about the Welsh attitude to food. It goes to the tune of 'Mud, mud, glorious mud.'
'Food, food, glorious food,
Nothing quite like it for improving the mood.
So follow me follow,
Down to the canteen
And there let us wallow
In glorious food.'
Apologies to other Welsh people - I'm just tarring the whole nation with my own brush!
OOps, suspect you will get your wrists slappped GG.
Many years ago, before I had children, I agreed to have my next door neighbours girls for the day so they could go on a works trip on the Thames. I was provided with tuna sandwiches for one, as she would eat nothing else, chocolate spread for another and the eldest would eat whatever we were having. Vowed I would never get into this habit when I had children.
Several years later, was preparing dinner for 5 and realised it was like being in a cafe! 5 different meals, as I had succombed to preparing what each one wanted rather than just plonk a meal in front of them. It stopped there.
10 guests has been my limit GG and that used to give me a nervous breakdown and take a week to get over.
It wasn't in my home, Tina. It was in the church across the road and took me two days to shop, prepare and cook. I enjoyed it because of the challenge involved in getting it all out there hot and fooling everyone into thinking that it was well-cooked. It was usually a roast dinner and other people would cook the puddings. Then I'd collapse for a couple of days and hypocritically receive congratulations from people.
My Mother taught me to cook because boys should be able to look after themselves. It was basic as rationing did mean you had to see what was there we had our own small holding and animals so never went hungry, bread was a basic and wash day with a hot steamy wash house was ideal for raising the dough.
Once we got away from base in the Desert fresh food lasted a day then it was all dry or tinned. No kitchen as such each section would look after their own food breakfast before sun up then an evening meal at sundown, to hot to eat in between. A soldier would cook the section meals but our lot dragooned me into doing all the cooking as it got me out of guard duties I got a nights sleep. The Officers of all the sections threw their rations in with our section and ate with us. I had a box of spices picked up in the Souk, we had dried everything from rice to fruit, Pom Dried Cabbage and of course Bully beef everything cooked on Benghazi burners.
My recovery truck would have fruit being re hydrated in water, cabbage being brought back to life all for the evening meal, which could be a curry, Panackelty, sheperds pie or any of many rice based concoctions and always a pudding. The Officers would wash all the tins as their input.
Three years at cookery when I retired gave me cake making and the one I really loved raised pies hand made. As with everything you make mistakes and learn from them now my Grandchildren want to come and eat here, well everyday if they could, now that does please me.
Frank.
You've had a rich life, Frank.
The wisdom of the past illuminates the present.
I had a lovely morning before the heavy rain started yesterday planting hellebores. Verdun stimulated my interest in them and I must say they look fabulous mixed with lots of little tete-a-tete daffodils. I love these but I'm just beginning to wonder how on earth I can plant new stuff in the autumn when the soil is full of their bulbs.
So here's a new rant, as befits an MOB. (A number of people would now agree that this is what I am!) When God made bulbs why, oh why, did He not make them with a permanent tag? Didn't He realise gardeners would need to know where they are?
I haven't been struck dead so I think I can safely say that He has a sense of humour! He must have, since He created camels.( Apologies in advance if I have offended anyone. I have a deep love and respect for God.)
More seriously, I'd really like an answer to this problem with bulbs. I suppose markers in the soil, but there would be so many of them. I know bulbs can be replanted but there is such a risk of slicing them as you dig.
Good Morning GG,Clear skies over here in Clogher head cold at the moment temp 1c but the day has promise , the late GH and Monty recommend that if you have a multitude of bulbs corms and tubers ,that you plant them in shallow bowls /pots with the Base cut out ,as each flower come to the end of its season the bowl / pot is re-placed with another similar bowl / pot of what you would like to grow in its place .hope this idea helps , yes I know its not a rant
Derek
I'm proud to be an MOB! Do hate apathy. That's first rant for the day. Too many people moan and get up in arms about certain things, but never actually do anything about it. I have to put pen to paper, or rather fingers to laptop, otherwise things just fester in my mind. No, I'm not a miserable old biddy, quite the opposite really.
Right, second, the b....dy weather. Pouring with rain and blowing a gale. Is there no end?
That is a very good idea Derek and one which I will put into practice later this year. Much easier way of doing things. Do like to keep it simple. Don't quite have the same energy that I used.
Frank, I think the younger generation are more capable in the kitchen than men of my generation. Very few of my friends OH's were competent to produce a meal. Wish my OH had learned to cook. The one time he had to get a meal for the kids, when asked how it was, they said the sausages were black. As for my Dad, after my Mum passed away, popped in one day to find he had tried to, of all things, to cook himself some chips. Outside the kitchen door was a dark stain and a sorry looking fryer. He just said 'Well, I waited for the oil to boil, like your Mother used to'. From then on, I took over.