The end of NaBloPoMo

RingIt’s the last day of National Blog Posting Month and I’ve done, um, really crap.  Ho hum.  But I thought I’d better make an effort for the last day and blog something, but apart from having some shelves put up, which Shaun says won’t stay up for long (and he put them up so if they fall down it’s his fault), and an uneventful trip to Sainsburys where I very impressively resisted the buy one get one free Hob Nob flapjacks, I have nothing to blog about so here’s a pic of a ring I made last week.

NaBloPoMo’s completed: 20/30
Shelves that will fall down: 2
Trips to Sainsburys: 1
Rings made: 1

Lost (but with no sign of Sawyer)

As I haven’t been running for ages and with a race coming up where we’ll be joined by five of our mountain mates that I want to beat run with, I decide that I’d better get out for a training run and I haven’t even got the excuse of a hangover unlike the previous two Saturdays and so after procrastinating for two hours by updating my Facebook status every two minutes to let all the internet people know I’m procrastinating about going for a run, I grab my thermal gloves that kept my fingers toasty up the mountains and go outside where it’s a bit nippy freezing and I’m running through the puddles as I like running through puddles but then I go through a puddle that’s too deep and now my sock’s going squelch and after I go past the sex change pub, Kurt Cobain starts singing something about planting a house but at least he’s not swearing he hasn’t got a gun as we all know that was a bit of a naughty fib, wasn’t it, eh Kurt? and there’s a man in a hoodie standing outside the gates to the Middlesex Filterbeds and I wonder if he’s a hoodie hoodie or just wearing a hoodie because it’s cold and I decide he looks dodgy and when I get closer I see he’s got a moustache so I decide he doesn’t just look dodgy but really is dodgy and another girl runs past and she looks at him like she thinks he’s got a dodgy moustache too but the gates are locked anyway so I run up alongside the river getting nice and muddy but I’m not really enjoying the run and I think I’m going to retire after next week’s race and it’ll be bye bye JogBlog but then I think if I retire and stop blogging I won’t get any more freebies and I like freebies and I get to the edge and there’s two bicycles locked to a tree and I think where are the people who the bicycles belong to? are they in the bushes shagging? or maybe they’re axe murderers waiting to pounce and then I see people playing football and I think aah, they’re probably not shagging or murderers waiting to pounce with axes, they’re probably just playing football and I wonder why I didn’t think of that before seeing as every Saturday there’s dozens of people playing football and probably not dozens of people shagging in bushes or waiting to pounce with an axe or other dangerous object of choice and I get to the car park and there’s more hoodies and once again I wonder if they’re hoodie hoodies or just cold and I think well, it is Winter, if you can’t wear a hood in the Winter, when can you? and I go through the car park to avoid having to run on the grass to get to the path and I get to the path and I’m running along and then I’m thinking who moved the river? the river’s usually on my right and now it’s on the left and I think oops, I think I went the wrong way and I don’t want to go back the way I came as I hate going backwards and so I carry on going and I see a road and I think I’m lost and wonder if Lost is coming back in February and then I see a road bridge going over the river and I wonder if that will take me back to the marshes and I go over the bridge and there’s a field and I have to run on the grass which is precisely what I was trying to avoid in the first place and I think I can see a man with a dog but the man is running away from me and it’s not a dog but a crow and I think maybe I should wear my glasses when I’m out running and I get to the end of the field and I think I can see someone sitting on the bench and I don’t want to be alone where I’m lost with a man on a bench and I don’t want to ask directions as then he’ll know I’m lost and I get nearer and see that it’s not a man on a bench, it’s just a dark gap between the bench and the bin and I think hmm, yes, perhaps I really should wear my glasses when I’m out running and then I see a bridge and I wonder if it’s the bridge that once upon a time I’d never been over before and then it was the bridge I’d been over twice and hurrah, it is the bridge that I’ve been over twice and now it’s the bridge I’ve been over three times and the river is in its proper place on my right and I’m not disorientated anymore and I go over the bridge and there’s three cyclists coming down the path triple file and I think move over a bit or go single file, there’s no more space for me to move over but the ignorant tossers don’t bother to move or go single file and I’m nearly pushed into the bushes and I think WHY ARE SOME CYCLISTS SUCH IGNORANT TOSSERS and then I go past the stables and there’s a man coming down the path without a dog but he looks quite friendly and he doesn’t murder me and then another man comes down the path without a dog and I think is it National Men Over The Marshes Without Dogs Day or what? and he doesn’t look very friendly and he flexes his fingers in a I’m a strangler kind of way and I wonder if my theory that if someone tries to strangle you, if you tickle them they’ll let go will work and I decide he looks a bit fat and unfit to outrun me even if I have just done nearly 7 miles and I leg it over the footbridge and go home.

Distance: 6.85 miles
Time: 1:16:10 minutes
Pace: 11:07
Calories: 689
Socks squelching: 2
Men with dodgy moustaches: 1
Unaccompanied bicycles: 2
Ignorant tosser cyclists: 3
Men without dogs: 2
The Cult
The Dude
Duran Duran
The The
My Bloody Valentine


I was walking home from work tonight and I went to cross over Moorgate when it was on the red light but I could see a cyclist coming down the road so I stopped to wait for the cyclist to go through the red light but THE CYCLIST STOPPED AT THE RED LIGHT and I was so confused and traumatised and thinking how could that be?  since when do cyclists stop at red lights? and then I went to cross over Blomfield Street to get to Liverpool Street station and a cyclist went on to the pavement but when he got to the pavement THE CYCLIST GOT OFF AND WHEELED HIS BIKE ON THE PAVEMENT.  I needed a lie down to get over the shock but I was outside Liverpool Street station in the rush hour and thought it’d look odd and then I thought maybe I’m dreaming and in the morning I’ll wake up in the shower like Bobby Ewing or maybe I won’t wake up at all, like the Blue Peter tortoise, and I’ll just spend eternity being traumatised by dreams of cylists adhering to the Highway Code.

Things that annoy me (part 1)

It will be of no surprise to find out that, after I started a list of “things that annoyed me today”, on yesterday morning’s train to work, by the time I got home (via the pub) it resulted in quite a long list.  So instead of listing them all at once, this is no. 1 in a series of, um, quite a lot (Shaun, stop worrying, you’re not on the list.  Yet.)

Lunchtime, 1pm, in the gymLucozade Sport

I get to the gym and there’s a sign that says “Buy a course of 10 Lucozades and save £2”.  What the fuck, a course of Lucozades?  Since when did Lucozade come in courses?  Do we now go to the doctor and say “excuse me Mr Doctor but I have a bit of a sniffle, what would you recommend, those usual red and white capsule things you give out for everything?”  And he says “oh no, that was in the olden days, these days we give out a course of Lucozade; drink 10 bottles of these and you will rot your teeth, feel like shit, support the vivisection industry and spends loads of money for no reason  feel better immediately.  Well, after 10 bottles anyway”.  And if you’re really ill, you can get an even better deal:  “Buy a course of 20 Lucozades and get £4 off”.   I may have to stop going to the gym so I don’t have to see that sign anymore.

How to be a domestic goddess

On Saturday I decide to show off my culinary skills and prove what a domestic goddess I am, and cook up a feast of goat’s cheese and pine nut (yes they are nuts) triangles (er yeah, ok, so I need to go back to infant school and relearn what a triangle is), falafel, tabouleh, moussaka, hummous and pitta bread.  Yum.

And after I’d posted on Facebook that I was making pitta bread (yes I have no life and update my Facebook status every three minutes), Leighsa asked me for the recipe, so here it is.

Pitta bread (taken from The Bread Book)
To make with a breadmaker

375g (12oz, 3.5 cups) strong white flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon caster sugar
1.5 teaspoons fast-action dried yeast
1 tablespoon olive oil
250ml (8fl oz, 1 cup) water

  1. Spoon in the flour then add the salt and sugar.  Make a slight dip in the centre of the flour and sprinkle in the yeast.
  2. Set the bread machine to dough or basic dough.  Press start.
  3. At the end of the programme, lift the tin out of the machine, tip the dough out on to a lightly floured surface and cut into 8 pieces.  Roll out the pieces into ovals of about 15cm (6 inches) or into ovals a little smaller than your hand.
  4. Put the dough on to pieces of oiled clingfilm and cover loosely with more oiled clingfilm.  Leave to rise for 15 minutes.
  5. Heat 3 baking sheets in a preheated oven, 220c (425f), gas mark 7, for 5-7 minutes.  Rinse the trays wtih cold water so that the breads won’t stick then quickly put the breads on the hot baking trays and cook for 6-8 minutes until puffy and just beginning to brown.

Pitta bread

Falafel, tabouleh, goat’s cheese & pine nut triangles taken from Good Housekeeping Step by Step Vegetarian Cookbook
Moussaka taken from Veganomicon (best vegan cookbook in the world ever, not that that’s difficult, all the other vegan cookbooks I’ve tried have been crap)
Hummous – put a can of chickpeas (with its water), some tahini, a bit of olive oil, garlic and lemon juice in a food processor and whizz it up


Because I stayed up late on Thursday drinking wine and watching Sex and the City, on Friday morning I got up too late to pack my gym stuff and so at lunchtime I decided to go for a walk along the river instead

River Thames

and then I went up Waterloo Bridge to play spot the landmark

Waterloo Bridge

but my hangover was making me a bit wobbly and I didn’t want to fall off the bridge into the river so I took my hangover back to work where I spent the afternoon pretending not to eat biscuits and cakes and Cadburys Chocolate Eclairs.


After being outed on MY OWN BLOG by Shaun (aka my future ex-boyfriend) on my previous post for being really stupid, I go to work with vengeance in my heart and the overwhelming desire to Get. Shaun. Back. For. Outing. Me. On. MY. OWN. BLOG. For. Being. Really. Stupid.  So I get to work and before settling down to do work type stuff I read EVERY SINGLE PAGE ON THE INTERNET until I find one that agrees with me and, more importantly, proves him wrong.

But I don’t find one.

Not about the peanut thing anyway.  Fuck, I spent 38 years and 10 months and 28 days thinking that peanuts were nuts.  And the one day I decide to be sarky about peanut butter labelling and post on my blog for all the internet people to read “peanuts are what, peas?”, I find out that, yes, they are actually.


But, my future ex-boyfriend also said when he outed me for being really stupid, that bananas aren’t fruit, so I re-read EVERY SINGLE PAGE ON THE INTERNET until I found one that agreed with me, and found this page that says “A banana … is undoubtedly a fruit …“.


Future ex-boyfriends: 1
Pages read on the internet: all of them
Revelations that peanuts are peas and not nuts: 1
Revelations that bananas are not fruit: 0
Women that are probably too old to be writing things like “duh” and “ner” on blogs: 1

No added brain cells

As I’m such a label freak (as in reading them, not wearing designer ones),  here’s what I spotted on my jar of Whole Earth Crunchy Original peanut butter with no added sugar

Whole Earth Crunchy Original Peanut Butter with no added sugar

Ok, so they have to have the allergy warnings re peanuts (although possibly slightly unnecessary on a jar of peanut butter), but may also contain nuts?  May?  Peanuts are what, peas?

Jars of peanut butter containing peanuts: 1
Jars of peanut butter that may contain nuts: 1
Manufacturers who think their customers are really stupid: 1

NaBloPoMo day 17

I’m no good at this NaBloPoMo thing as I don’t have anything to blog about today and I have more important things to do like go downstairs and make some hot chocolate and watch IACGMOOH but fear not, as tomorrow I shall blog, as tomorrow I shall do one of those running home from work things that I love oh so much.  Almost as much as I love pizza, oh yes.

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