We’ve cut up a lot of random wood for firewood, though some of it needs splitting some more to make kindling sticks. No gardening, too cold and wet. But the remainder of the wood was made a bonfire of (grammar? The purpose of grammar is to make sense, and that makes sense, yes?). And I’d taken the sensible step of removing a dish of chilli bean casserole from the freezer in plenty of time, which went nicely with asparagus from the garden.
All the same, having cooked and eaten dinner and replied to a couple of emails, I felt a bit hollow and chilly. I went back into the drawing room. “I feel like a pudding,” I announced. The Sage gazed at my stomach politely. I explained that I felt like cooking and eating a pudding, a proper one. Do you know, the microwave is jolly good, has anyone else ever noticed? I weighed two bantams’ eggs, 2.5 oz and, using their weight in the other ingredients, whizzed up a sponge pudding mix, spooned syrup in the basin, cake on top, into the microwave on moderate for 5 minutes, which gave me just time to make custard, and – well, darlings, the Sage isn’t a kissy man. The only time one can be guaranteed is on production of a proper pudding. Ben was thrilled to receive his own (small) helping.
Weeza had wanted a particular book, George’s Marvellous Medicine, to read to Zerlina, who has just very much enjoyed the BFG, I couldn’t find it, but have found a dozen or so others (and there are lots more, of course) to take over on Saturday. These include the Sheep-Pig, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Eloise, the Owl who was Afraid of the Dark – all of them books I read to Weeza, or she read herself, thirty-five years ago – no, I’m wrong. The Sheep-Pig wasn’t written then, that must have been read to Ro.
je adore Eloise! (and Plop!)
j’adore I mean
I read that as ‘a bonfire of grammar’ initially, then realised you were referring to the hanging preposition. Here’s the best example I’ve been able to find:
“A father goes up to his son’s bedroom, a book about Australia under his arm, ready to read him to sleep. The boy notices the book and says: ‘Daddy, what did you bring that book that I don’t want to be read to out of about down under up for?’”
There are definitely times when nothing but a pudding will do.
And however healthy yoghurt is supposed to be, it is NOT a pudding.
Grammar….yes. Syntax ?
P.s. I think I’ve got up too early.
The Sage ‘o pufdings?
Great chieftain o’ the pudden race.
We too felt compelled to have chocolate sponge microwave pudding a couple of evenings ago. I don’t particulalry care for chocolate, sponge, or puddings, but the weather drove us to it! Probably 5 or 6 years since we last had one.
Thank you, I was wondering what to cook for tonight, chilli it is. Warming and filling on this cold wet winter’s day.
Earlier this week I also felt like having a pudding so rummaged about and found bits to make a chocolate brioche bread pudding. Fortunately I felt like this in advance of supper so had time to make it. It was yummy. The next day gave the leftovers to the wildlife in the garden. Fox, badgers, crows, magpies, seagulls et al. First come first served.
Oh yes, Plop! I don’t know where that is either, I obviously need to have a book hunt.
Tim, I love you.
Oh Mike, iron rations? I’m sorry.
Second helpings and all, Rog.
BW, if you were driven to make and eat a chocolate sponge pudding, it truly has reverted to winter. And Wendz, I’ve a feeling that something involving chocolate might happen tonight.
Being a vegetable chilli, it was actually quite light, Jane, so didn’t seem out of place at the end of May. Warming, certainly.
Every time I see your header photo I wonder at the colour of the wisteria and wonder if you used ‘boost’ which has seemed to heighten the colour of the house and paled the wisteria.
Or am I barmy?
Oh, I’m so thick, Zig. Of course, Plop was the owl. I’ve spent some time trying to remember the book he was in, and it finally dawned!
Not at all, Pat, it’s just the time of day. See today’s post for a variety of colours of the same wisteria and brickwork.