The Sturdy Soapbox

It's nearly his birthday

 

I  found the welder a Homer SImpson clock on E bay and got it for a song.

He got it today (and shouldn't really have opened it til Friday, cos it's a birthday present).

Can you see the resemblance ?

I saw this version a few weeks ago, but it was way to expensive for me, so I was well chuffed when I found something almost identical for a fraction of the price.

It was 37 years ago today...

That my brother married Anita...

To get this picture, I had to nag the poor girl into installing a scanner and then managing to scan and successfully e mail it over to me.   Happy Anniversary.

How the other half nosh

Well as I type this, the welder and Pat will be tucking into their posh nosh and a moment ago, I had a phone call from a breakfasting OBC, who is staying at the hotel in this picture, out there in New Zealand.

The list of things on his breakfast plate was enough to put even a piglet welder to shame.  I got the photo from the website of the hotel by the way.  It certainly looks like a lovely place.

OBC said I was a picture of misery, just because I said I'd had a pretty crap week.  I'm not that miserable.  Spring's almost here, my carnivorous plants have survived their second winter dormancy.  I might just have scrambled eggs for brekky tomorrow and that always cheers me up.

The simplest things

 

I've posted a similar comment before.  I can spend a couple of hours prepping the ingredients to make a curry and indeed it will be thoroughly delicious.  Then there's the simplicity of what I just had for tea.  Scouse cottage pie.  Scouse being idiomatic for Merseyside from where I hail, land of the Beatles and all that.

All it consists of, is a layer of mashed potato, a layer of corned beef and then top it off with more mash and bake it in the oven till it's lovely and crispy and brown on top.  Cheap and truly delicious, unlike Wally the Welder's tea of lamb tajine and of course the cheesecake that ay got no cheese in. 

I was in and out of Bob the Butcher's shop in two shakes of a lamb's tail this morning.  I got the 6:45 bus up there and the 7:05 bus back.  He'd put most of the stuff I usually have in a bag already, I really am that predictable and have much the same every week.

All I did was just hand over the dosh and I was away.  Back into town by 7:15, in and out of Tesco where I bought my Maris Piper potatoes for tonight's mash (they didn't have King Edwards).  I was back home by 7:30.

PMG called from New Zealand where it was 24 degrees versus a windy six degrees here.  He'd met up with OBC and Val in Aukland on Thursday.  I think OBC's only got a week left of his holiday.  Where did that go I wonder ?

I received a rather rude  comment in response to my post where I slagged off my next door neighbours.  Some postman called Pat who was sick of people like me.  It was only when I spotted the New Zealand suffix on the e mail address I thought to myself, who's in NZ ?    Well, there's OBC and there PMG...

Even if I had pissed of a postman named Pat from Pukekohe, do you think I gave a fuck ?

Tsk tsk, just had the welder on the phone, 2 hours to go til his posh guests arrive.  I enquired, have you had your bath yet and he had indeed (cos he's a clean little welder you know).  Remember those posh burgundy bath towels I posted a picture of from his remodelled "wet room" ?

He had to chuck em away, because everytime he dried off his bits, they left burgundy fluff all over them, I think Pat had similar problems too.  As Pat said, "We wo buy towels from Matalan again" !

Now remember Wally, put your clock FORWARD not back tonight (and all you other Brits).

I asked nicely the first time

IMG_3279 I asked nicely the first time
Originally uploaded by ɹnoɯɹɐdsıɹɔ

Found this on Flickr and it's my sentiments excactly.

Can someone tell him that's why it's called cheesecake

Spoke with the welder this afternoon.  I was surprised to find him at home and not in the pub.  He was helping Pat to prepare for a meal they're having tomorrow night, they've got posh friends coming round for a feast.  I asked if I could hang around outside looking unfed and cop a few leftovers.

I asked what was on the menu and as well as lamb tajine, there's cheesecake, "but there ay no cheese in it" said Wally.  Then he passed me over to Pat to explain the culinary details and there is cheese in it, just not the hard yellow stuff you have in sandwiches or grated on to pizza, which is his idea of cheese.

Much as I didn't want to burst any bubbles, I did break the news that there's carrots in carrot cake too !

Just ignore me, I'm nobody's friend...

This past week or so, I've been having so much trouble with my personal interactions.  It ended up this morning by upsetting the next door neighbour,

I was expecting a delivery and popped downstairs and put a note on the outside of the outer door for the delivery driver to come on in as the door was unlocked.  Inside, I put a polite notice asking all of three neighbours not to close the door fully shut as a delivery was expected.

Got my delivery mid-morning and went down to close the door after the driver had called.  I found a note for my attention from my next door neighbout, which began "I wish you would stop doing this"...

This is the neighbour who's mail I always carry upstairs and leave at their door and ditto when they are away, so it doesn't get trampled on in the hall.  Also, I will if I hear the postman, bring in their parcels and do the same.

There isn't a very good commuinity spirit in this building, but I try to do my bit.  Remember when I bought flat leaf parsley last week instead of Coriander ? 

I left it on their doorstep with a note explaining such, because I know they "cook food" rather than live on take aways or out of tins.

Was I really bothered when they opened my bank statement by mistake.  Sure, they put it under my door with a mild apology, because that was all that was needed, but after this morning, well FUCK THEM !!!    As for stopping doing this...  I've done it exactly twice and a couple of months apart.

I'm checking the door every fifteen fucking minutes so I don't miss the delivery driver, so it is highly unlikely one of the local toe rags will get in and gain entry to their place ransacking and pillaging.

I've been here 21 years and never had a problem with any of the neighbours, even the last lot who lived upstairs and smashed furniture up in the small hours.

Quite often, I will have parcel items delivered down to McBark's surgery.  Looks like I will have to ingraciate myself there once more, rather than risk upsetting the long haired TWAT next door any further.

I've also been having trouble with two other parties for whom I've worked like a mule and yet, been treated pretty shabbily.  So really, it's all built up to a head and my imaginary AK 47 is loaded ready to fire indiscriminately in a public place sometime soon.

Mind you, Wally the Welder called me mid morning and made me laugh...

Couldn't afford it, but sloped off up the Wheatsheaf for a couple at teatime.  So, if you see me slumped in a corner growling to myself, just ignore me.  I'll get over it,  I always do.

Poignant

Laugh, I thought I'd never get em dry...

Charlie Chalk's got a dongle and he's been playing with it on the train.

He's got one of the new broadband "mo-downs" as favoured by Wally the Welder et al.

This morning I got a Skype video call from the Chalk Master and he was on the train.  I said where are you going and he answered it's ten to nine.  Good audio quality I thought to myself.

I did try to explain that the crap quality might improve if he switched the video off as it would use less bandwidth, but I think I'll wait till I can phone him.  A lot more reliable.  Stay tuned for Chalk's mobile broadband adventures.

All the buses were early

I was back by 8 this morning, cos all the buses were a couple of minutes early, meaning I had chance to pop in Tesco and still get the 7:48 Sutton bus home.  Had to buy "organic" butter this morning.

I'm afraid I don't buy in to all this organic nonsense.  Just another moneymaking number by the marketing men a bit like what McBark says about these pain relief gels.  He says that active ingredient is so low, it is the action of rubbing the stuff in that does the good and he should know, he's a doctor.  Yet a multi million pound market was created almost overnight.

Received a text from OBC at 6 this morning saying give my best to Bob the Butcher.  So, when I got there, I showed him.  He was most flattered that a fan of his pork scratchings was thinking of him so far away.

I didn't think he was there when I walked up from the bus.  No sign of his car.  Then he told me, they've blitzed the street with double yellow lines (totally unnecessary), so now he has to park two streets away.

If ever there was a hatchery for stupid ideas that harm the community, it is local councils.  Small independent UK businesses are dying on the high streets because of:  No parking (double yellows everywhere and an army of plebs to issue tickets), high parking prices where there is parking.  This is in contrast to the out of town "shopping villages" where parking in the main is free and then there's the paved areas.

So you've a traditional old shop that sells ironmongery and you're in the middle of a paved area and you've paid your exhorbitant business rates.  What's the probobility you will sell something like a lawnmower or piece of garden furniture to someone who's come into town and parked half a mile away ?

And so, even with its out of town location, the only independent butcher within 2 miles of Darlaston has more restriction placed on it by Walsall MBC.

Changing the subject, I had me a bit of smoked bacon this morning and put a slice under the grill for brekky.  When I took it out of the bag I thought it smelled a bit stong and indeed it was and bloody delicious too.