Reader:
“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them”.
Response:
“Lest we forget"
We had an act of remembrance as near to 11 am as we could get it, led jointly by an ex-service congregation member who'd served in the Falklands and Mr T. It was very moving, thinking of all those we have seen recently in the news, as well as those in less recent wars.
The key phrase is “as near to 11am as we could get it. As near as we could get it was 10:45am. Mr T put together a thoughtful introduction, prayers, a few hymns and the choir sang an anthem to lead up to that section of the service. And he double checked it with a few others to see if the timings worked. Everyone thought there was enough content to last until 10:55am. With the reading of the Binyon poem, a PowerPoint showing the names of fallen from our congregation, the two minutes silence would have been more or less on time. Only that morning, everyone was wrong. We were early.
With no plan B – no extra hymns, prayers or readings in reserve –The Minister in this situation is left with two fairly hard choices:
- Make something up on the fly so the Silence takes place at the right time. Fine as it ensures that everything happens when it’s meant too, but it does create the potential to kill the reflective mood amongst the congregation you’ve worked so hard to create. (I'm not just saying this because my husband did it, but it was a really good service).
- Go head with what you’ve planned. The silence doesn’t take place at the right time, but the mood is maintained. (Unless someone looks at their watch).
Mr T went with the second option. Most of the congregation didn’t say anything to him directly. (Not sure what comments Mr T’s boss got though). Of the few that did, some weren’t particularly bothered but others felt it detracted slightly but the Act of Remembrance was the key thing. Another said that he’d never been to a Remembrance Service that had been on time ever - including the ones he’d attended when he was Mayor. Only one person was actively hostile, describing the mis-timing as “appalling”. Mr T told me all the names except the last one! Most vicar's spouses have a mental list of congregation members who'd Really Benefit From A Piece Of Their Mind. He decided not to add another name to mine.
Padre Jonathon Woodhouse, a Baptist Minister serving in the army, interviewed in this week’s Baptist Times says that Remembrance Day gives congregations the opportunity to “sense the connection and inter-dependence with the nation, as well as remembrance of the fallen, reflection upon the personal sacrifice of war, prayers for the injured and hope for peace in a turbulent world”. [Whatever their views on war] As well as “the importance of praying for all those affected by war, and for peace [as well as remembering] those who must make decisions on our behalf, for wisdom to know and courage to do that which is right”.
The article also discusses the role of the church in Remembrance Day. Woodhouse says, “Speaking from an army perspective, and in my particular role, I know how much value is placed on the understanding, prayer, discussion and support given by churches to its army personnel. Not only does it represent a link to families and communities but it also recognises that churches give due honour and hallow the memory of the ultimate sacrifice, which sons and daughters, mothers and fathers may have made on behalf of the nation. It would be a deep sadness if this sacrifice was not recognised by us all, whatever our views about war”
- Mood:
peaceful
Do you have any of your own theories on life?
I envy people who can get it down to one sentence, their theories on life. A homeless guy came up to me the other day and said, “Can I have £10 to sort out my life?” I said, “F***k man. I wish I could sort out my life with just £10. Here’s £15, man – you go for it”.
Fortunately, I didn’t find any work that I needed to do but had overlooked. Always a good thing. Whilst I believe a Tidy Desk Is A Happy Desk, it never seems to work out that way!
Oh, lend us a tenner?! (Sadly, although life is pretty fine considering, it would take more than that! Am off on holiday for a few days - with no Internet - and am really looking forward to it!)
- Mood:
accomplished
Since the Tubblet started school, we’ve either just had nits, have nits or are just about to have nits. Niiiice. Apart from the school holidays. Limited contact with other children means No Nits. (Sadly not a practical, all year round prevention method).
I'm not sure exactly what's changed as I don't remember endless rounds of de-nitting when I was at school.
- Location:Home
- Mood:
awake - Music:Doves at the Electric Proms
We used the Jamie Oliver cookbook for dinner again so here’s another recipe. This is from Grub on a Grant, a book that got a lot of usage whilst I was at University. It also got used after I’d left when there was too much month left at the end of the money but we still fancied something nice on a Friday. I’d probably still have it if it hadn’t dived into a full sink.
5.1 million whole potatoes
4.4 million whole apples
2.8 million whole tomatoes
7 million whole slices of bread
1.3 million unopened yoghurts and yoghurt drinks
1.2 million sausages
1 million slices of ham
0.7 million whole eggs
0.7 million whole bars of chocolate and unwrapped sweets
0.3 million unopened meat-based ready meals or takeaways
0.3 million unopened packets of crisps
The book also mentioned 2,900 unopened cans or bottles of lager. Who on earth is throwing away unopened bottles of lager, packets of crisps or chocolate?! Never happens in our house! We have contributed to the yoghurt pile though.
Thai Peanutty Pork
Serves 2
1 tbsp oil
1 onion
1 red pepper, chopped
2 cloves garlic
250g minced pork
1 tbsp Thai red curry paste
1 tbsp crunchy peanut butter
1 tbsp soy sauce
100ml water
Handful of basil, shredded (optional)
Handful of coriander
1. Heat the oil and fry the onion and pepper for 5 minutes
2. Add the garlic and pork and fry for a further 5 minutes
3. Add the rest of the ingredients except the herbs and stir fry for 2 minutes
4. Stir in the herbs if using just before serving
This dish goes really well with noodles but can be served with rice if you prefer.
- Mood:
full
I suppose that if you believe the KJV is the Official Word of God, then any other translations are the complete opposite. (I hesitate to type Work of the Devil but ...). This may explain why a church in the
They’ll also be adding books by Billy Graham, Rick Warren, Bill Hybels, John McArthur, James Dobson, Charles Swindoll, John Piper, Chuck Colson, Tony Evans, Oral Roberts, Jimmy Swagart, Mark Driskol, Franklin Graham, Bill Bright, Tim Lahaye, Paula White, T.D. Jakes, Benny Hinn, Joyce Myers, Brian McLaren, Robert Schuller, Mother Teresa, The Pope, Rob Bell, Erwin McManus, Donald Miller, Shane Claiborne, Brennan Manning and William Young to the pile. (Not heard of all of them, but books by Swindoll, McLaren,
I’m not sure what chills the blood more, the book burning or the burning of books that others consider the word of God. On reflection, it’s both. I can’t find the quote, but Mousethief on SOF did a lovely paraphrase, “[The author would] rather be tortured by an person who realized he was torturing him, because they might have a pricking of conscience and stop, than by somebody who thought he was doing him good and didn't see what he was doing as torture at all. No opportunity for conscience to pull the brakes, because conscience is what drives him in the first place”.
What do women want? My list includes – but is not limited too – a decent cup of coffee and some cake; a magic credit card that enables you to “charge it” without the need to pay it all back; a tenant in our old house; less work for more money; to go down a dress size; the prefect lipstick; my mum and dad to not be ill and for The One to teach me the Argentine Tango.
Only I don’t. I have nothing against stay at home mothers or fathers, I admire them tremendously. I just don’t want to be one, thanks. (And don’t think I could hack it if I tried). The Tubblet wouldn’t want me to be one either. And Mr T went white and quiet. (And then he went into the kitchen. And I am pretty sure I heard muffled laughter). That’s the problem with research reports that make sweeping statements about sections of society. There’s always someone who ruins it by being different.
- Mood:
angry
I’m very confused by recent events in Celeb-land. A man interrupting a 19 year old at an awards show is universally scorned and people are encouraged to boycott his work. A man who rapes a 13 year old girl has the great and the good queuing up to sign a petition demanding his release. I don’t see why being talented, privileged or having experienced terrible tragedy allows someone to commit rape and then run away from the consequences. (If that was the case, then the jails would be empty!)
A collection of fair better blog posts, including additional information on the background to the case as well as some excellent deconstructions of the whole “but it’s all okay because he’s talented” arguments AND the "it wasn't really rape because ..." can be found here.
There’s an online petition you can sign if you believe that everyone should be treated the same and fame and talent should not be used as a Get Out Of Jail Free card.
- Mood:
angry
Mr T managed to get pictures of the gerbils.
Back to Church Sunday aims to get people to go back to church by bribing them with “free chocolate and a bookmark”. (That could be a fib btw). Addressing the reasons why people leave in the first place OR wouldn’t seen within a five mile radius of a pew might also be helpful, but every little helps. If you fancy coming to see us this Sunday morning, then you’d be most welcome. (Mr T isn’t preaching. I’m not sure if that would be considered a plus or a minus! Currently I am trying to negotiate a going rate for references to Stuff My Wife Does In Sermons. I’m hoping to agree a price for each pre-agreed example and double that for anything used without permission. So far with little success. TBF, he is very good. So far the only time I've been mentioned in a sermon is when he told everyone I was addicted to coffee. Although we do have a fridge magnet that says, "No Coffee No Workee", I'm not sure that a love of good coffee shops and a one a day Pret habit actually counts as an addiction!).
- Mood:
busy
I know, two entries in one day! But I’ve been meaning to write this up for ages. Seeing U2 with 88,000 of our new best friends was absolutely amazing. We had a fantastic time and sang ourselves hoarse. We had really good seats, about eight rows back from the front so we could see really well. (Light show was stunning). The group next to us seem to have confused the concert with the pub. Every 20 minutes or so one of them would get up to go and buy more Carlsberg. At £3 a pint!
We were near the celebrity backstage area. Alex Baldwin was hanging about with some friends near the ladies. (I nearly bumped into him in my haste to get to the toilet and out again before the next song started). Noel Gallagher walked to the backstage section through the public standing area. (He has Very Stupid Hair). Noel was having a great time, waving at everyone and grinning away. His partner was about 20 steps ahead, ramrod straight back, radiating unhappiness. We thought she’d wanted to go through the back way so they didn’t get stared at and been over-ruled.
Mr T managed to get hold of my phone and, despite what he told everyone via text message, we didn’t see RA. At all. Neither in skin tight jeans or being escorted off the premises for being drunk and disorderly.
It was a bit like this, only much further away. (Link to Youtube video. Sadly, I can't embed it).
Main set:
Breathe
No Line on the Horizon
Get On Your Boots
Magnificent
Beautiful Day with snippets of London Calling,
Elevation
I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For with a tiny bit of Movin' On Up
Stuck In A Moment You Can't Get Out Of
Unknown Caller
The Unforgettable Fire
City Of Blinding Lights
Vertigo
I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight with snippets of Two Tribes (!) and O Come All Ye Faithful
Sunday Bloody Sunday with throwaway mention of Rock The Casbah
Pride (In The Name Of Love)
MLK
Walk On with a snippet of You'll Never Walk Alone
Where The Streets Have No Name with brief Acquiesce snippet
Mysterious Wayswith brief Norwegian Wood snippet
Encores:
Ultraviolet (Light My Way)
With Or Without You
Moment of Surrender
Dave Gahan has an honours degree from the Mick Jagger School of Stage Craft. Shortly before this song, he was whirling his waist coat over his head whilst singing and dancing. (Who says men can’t multi-task). Now, imagine the same thing, but with Guy doing it. Case closed.
- Mood:
busy
Some anniversaries you don’t want to dwell on. 16th September was the first anniversary of The US Government Bailout. Whilst I can’t comment on the affect of George’s actions on the global economy - or whether it was the right thing to do - I can tell you that it had good effect on my local one. I Am Still Employed. Thanks George. (Never thought I’d type that without the Apocalypse being imminent).
This is a bit random, but worth sharing. Thanks to an article on girl’s comics in the Guardian, I found the Misty comics website. Oh my word, total nostalgia fest! (Sadly the only other comic strip from that era that I'd love to see again, Patty's World, is the subject of a fairly heated copyright dispute between IPC and the artist, Purita Campos. The only collected editon is in Spanish. *Bugger*)
The Tubblet has been (less than) quietly campaigning for a pet since we moved. We’d fobbed her off with various excuses – not our house, Mr T’s boss had said no etc.
We’d had goldfish for a while, but none of them lasted more than a week or so. We’d come down in the mornings to discover one or both of them floating on top of the water. Attempts by the Tubblet to boss them back to life by yelling, “Swimming!” at the top of her voice were unsuccessful. After we got to Charlie and Lola Mark 5, we decided enough was enough. It is official, we are Goldfish Death.
The Tubblet is now 6 and she asked for a pet for her birthday. She offered to put her savings towards it. (She’d been saving for a year on the quiet. That shows how determined she was). We caved. (We’re either loving, caring parents or weak minded fools depending on your viewpoint). We asked the vets at church, Alan and Susanna, about suitable pets for small children that a) aren’t much work and b) have a reasonable life span and c) aren’t either cats or dogs and d) won’t cost a small fortune to buy and maintain. They suggested gerbils - friendly, inquisitive, sociable and love digging. They don’t need a lot of work – feed and water once a day; clean the cage out every 2 – 3 weeks. (The not much work aspect is very important as that’s my job). They’re awake during the day, which is brilliant as the Tubblet gets to see them.
Please say hello and welcome to the two new additions to the Tubbs family –
In homage to the late London Paper’s Pet of the Day feature:
Gerbils: Troy and Chad
Age: 12 weeks old or there abouts
Sex: Male. (We hope! Boy and girl gerbils led to lots more gerbils!)
Likes: Chewing, particularly toilet rolls and their yellow plastic house. Digging, tunnelling and attempting to escape. (
Dislikes: The Dustbuster.
And the Tubblet loves them.
- Location:At home, not watching 24
- Mood:
happy
Baked Spaghetti
The good thing about this supper is that you can cook everything beforehand and put it together, then just bake in the oven when you're ready to eat. I usually serve this with garlic bread and an enormous salad.
Serves 4
1 Onion, peeled
2 tbsp olive oil
2 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
500 g minced pork, veal or beef
1 tbsp plain flour
125 ml white wine
800 g canned chopped tomatoes
1 tbsp tomato puree (paste)
250 ml chicken stock or water
sea salt
freshly ground pepper
1/2 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
few rosemary or oregano sprigs
500 g spaghetti
2 tbsp freshly grated parmesan
- Finely chop the onion. Heat the olive oil in a large fry pan and cook the onion for 10 minutes. Add the garlic and minced meat and stir over high heat until it browns. Sprinkle with flour and cook, stirring, for 3 minutes
- Add the white wine and boil for 1 minute, then add the tomatoes, tomatoe puree, stock, sea salt, pepper, nutmeg and rosemary sprigs. Partially cover and cook gently for 45 minutes.
- Heat the oven to 180C/Gas 4. Cook the pasta in plenty of boiling salted water until tender but firm. Drain well, then toss with the sauce. Scatter with parmesan, pile into a lightly oiled serving dish and bake for 30 minutes until crisp on top.
- Mood:
full
The Tubblet started back at school today. She’s now in year 1 and looked very grown up in her new school outfit. And that reminded me of this passage I found in a book I got free in a woman’s magazine – Samantha Smythe’s Modern Family Journal. (Magazines are Bad For Me because the images of women they portray aren’t very realistic and they make me discontented with my lot. And they're expensive. But still I buy them). Even though it’s talking about playgroup, some of the things still apply:
The Rules of Playgroup
Negotiating the unspoken rules and regulations of playgroup is like a complicated dance of courtship. At the base of this precarious structure is the knowledge that, by joining a playgroup, every mother is accepting an unspoken deal that she knows has to be made. There are some women you will like. Some you can’t stand. But this relationship is based on the fact that you have children of a similar age, that you wish your children to have friends and that is why you are there. You must therefore observe many rules of engagement when it comes to socialising with playgroup mothers:
Rule Number1. All children need friends therefore you must be friendly with other mothers. You must make them like you, or at least pity you, for then they will invite you and your age-appropriate offspring to your house to play. This will take the guise of, “Oh you really must come for a coffee”. The appropriate response to this is, “Of course, how kind”, unless you really hate the person doing the asking in which case you must say, “The twenty-fourth? Why, I am busy saving the world / going to an older child’s assembly / getting my mother’s car serviced that day”.
Rule Number 2. The popularity of your child is a Catch 22. This is how it goes – the more popular your child is, the more other mothers will think, “Gosh, there’s a popular little [person] I wonder if (name of child) would like to be friends with that popular little [person] because then, maybe that popular little [person’s] popularity might rub off on up-until-now-unpopular (name of child) and make him more popular.
Rule Number 3. This means you must practice being nice. You must learn to bake and have proper tea in your house in your house and nice things for other mothers’ children to eat. You must not be offish or patronising. You must take a small present over to their houses when they ask you for tea. A scented candle should do the trick.
Rule Number 4. You seriously have to watch that competitive mothering. …
[ETA – Comment by Mrs T: You also have to be very careful about making any remark that could be seen by another parent as a criticism of their parenting choices. Every parent has their own model of parenting. And that model is totally right. Once you accept that and learn to keep your thoughts to yourself, it saves a lot of unnecessary aggregation. There are, of course, exceptions to this rule. But, thankfully, I have never had to deal with them as yet. Mr T did a load of stuff on child protection as part of his course and he said it was beyond foul].
Rule Number 5. When playground mothers tell you that little (name of child) goes to Tumbletots, Monkey Music, football, baby judo, tots yoga, toddler singing lessons, tiny tots acting classes, sea cubs, mini hockey and rugby and cricket and Brazilian football and they also swim, instead of saying, “Jesus! How on earth can any child cope with doing all that?” you should say, “Gosh, [s/he] sounds so talented”.
Rule Number 6. Conversely, you have to try to feel less miserable about (name of child)’s talents and the seeming lack of talent of your own children. For have I not been moved by the achievements of my friend’s children?
[ETA: We were never particularly good at any of the above. I worked and Mr T was a house-husband. We are also Professionally Religious. Triple weirdo points. But we muddled through and made friends with, “a mish-mash of funny, witty, irreverent [people] ... who had learned over the years to take the whole experience with a rather large pile of salt”. See this article for more of the same].
- Location:At home
- Mood:
exhausted - Music:Depeche Mode - Black Celebration
Comment on this and I will pick 6 icons for you. Meme from Hulamoth
Dalek. Eddie Izzard offers cake or death, whilst a Dalek offers tea or extermination. As a hosting style, it’s pretty extreme, but no one would ever forget the time they spent at your house.
I do love Doctor Who and have pretty much stuck with it since the theme tune had me diving behind the sofa. Apart from dark days of The Longford when I didn’t watch it because it was crap. (I may be a fan-woman, but I have standards). And if Mr T is reading this, of course I dream about being a companion and travelling through time and space in the Tardis whilst saving the world. Amongst other things.
Doctor. It is a mystery to me how anyone can look good in a bright orange jumpsuit. But The One manages it. *Sigh*
Jawdrop. Because a picture says a thousand words. And the words this one usually says are WTF?! (I know swearing is neither big nor clever. But it doesn’t stop me doing it).
Someone shoot her. According to Mr T, costume dramas are precious waste of screen time. Although, having waved “Pride and Prejudice and Zombies” at him, he has come round to the idea that they can be improved by giving them a “Night of the Living Dead” style make over and introducing some Ninjas. Even though the book is utter tosh and all the good bits are from
Fangirls. A whole meditation about the nature of fandom in one small picture and a few well chosen words. Spikesbint is very clever.
Belle. If I stopped day dreaming and applied myself, I’d be unstoppable … but … shrug.
- Mood:
content
The Tubblet is safely ensconced at her grandparents for three sleeps. Mr T and I are home alone! So we go on a date Up London after I’d finished work and Mr T’s Product Red focus group was over.
The plan was to go to Wahaca but we couldn’t get a table until 9:30 – about an 1 ½ wait. We decided this was a bad idea. We were both starving and would be completely plastered on mojitos by that time. So we go in search of a restaurant. He doesn’t want Italian or French and I don’t want curry or Chinese. (I’d read a review of Yalla Yalla but didn’t bring it with me and attempts to find it failed dismally. The copy of the London Paper I picked up to read on the train journey home had a review of it. The reviewer described it as “hard to find”. He was not wrong).
We are unable to decide or agree on anything. In either Theatre Land or Soho. Words Are Said. Attempts at Blame Allocation are made. The Shaggy defence is adopted. (The shaggy defence = "It wasn't me ...") There is Silence. And Sulking. Eventually we wander toward the tube and into the first restaurant we find – Kerala Restaurant. A curry hut. Not quite what I was hoping for but at least there was going to be food. I half expected the evening to end with toast at home. We sit down to eat at 9:30pm. (Yes, I know!) Beer and food restore normality and happy feelings. It was The Best Curry Ever. I would have licked my plate clean if I thought I’d have got away with it. And I think Mr T would have as well. I had a prawn birani that came with sides and Mr T had a lamb thing with lemon rice and some bread. The staff were delightful – very kind and happy to explain what went with what.
Mr T didn’t get to meet Bono at the Product Red focus group btw. If he was there, he would have been behind the glass screen listening in. Just as well, as I would never have got my face out of the cat’s bum position. Concert on Friday. Only one more sleep!
[Edited to add: We saw the Living Statue in Trafalgar Square. The chap we saw looked like he was just about to juggle when we went past. Amazing stuff! Free art! We missed the chap who stripped]
- Mood:
full
Have finally succumbed to Twitter. Given that it takes me a paragraph to say most things, 140 words or less is going to be quite a challenge.
On the day I sign up, I catch sight of Mark Howe’s latest column on Ship of Fools, “Confessions of a Twitter Virgin” A new one in the confessions series. (Mark has the brain the size of a planet and he really does talk like that. Only twice as fast!)
David Tennant commented:
“He said: "Twitter? Noooo. 'I'm having a cup of tea' Who cares? There's plenty of people pretending to be me on Twitter.
"They can tell you that they're having a cup of tea. It'll just be the same. It'll be a different cup of tea but the information's the same."
Ah yes, but you will find a number of old friends you haven't spoken to in a while to drink that virtual cup of tea with. And there's insider gossip on movie type project thingeys that only you and several hundred other followers will hear.
- Mood:
contemplative
And continue, “No more working for a week or two.
Fun and laughter on a summer holiday.
No more worries for me and you.
For a week or two”.
Three days back at work and post holiday relaxed glow has gone. Ah well … This year’s holiday was a bit like The Tubbs Family’s Grand Tour of the
Our Grand Tour started with a few nights in Norton St Philip, staying at a lovely guest house called The Plaine. The Tubblet loves animals and is a very big fan of
The boat trip was particularly good as we saw the hippos – the grumpiest and most dangerous animal in the park. [ETA: Hippos wake up grumpy, stay grumpy throughout the day and then go to sleep with their grump still on. According to Mr T, I am part one!] The boat trip also took us past the gorilla house. The gorilla has a better TV than any one I know - Flat screen, Sky TV. He likes cartoons and
The last time I went to Longleat I was about the same age as the Tubblet. It was a boiling hot day and I was travel sick for the first and only time in my life.
The next day, we went into the City of
Candles were lit there for those on LJ and elsewhere that I’d promised I do this for – a nice thought as I know some of them are as fond of Mr Darcy et al as I am. It’s a nice thought for a costume drama fan – praying in the place where Mr Darcy’s real life equivalent sat listening to sermons on a Sunday and wondering if this would be a two or three or even four wine gum one. The concept of the wine gum sermon was invented by
And then we went to
Gosport is near
ordinary_mum
And it's fabulous! I’d had just got the part of the book where Prior Philip visits
Jane Austin is buried in the Catherdral. They make a big thing about her gravestone mentioning her devotion to her family and faith in God, but not her writing. Completely ignoring the fact that her books weren't particularly well known or successful when she was alive. Success came much later. (My O-Level English teacher told me this so It Must Be True).
And then we went home. We were meant to go to
Now I'm back at work and I've already told you how that's going. Photos to follow once Mr T has loaded them onto PB.
[Edited because of stupid formatting moving paragraphs to where they shouldn't be because that's not where I put them!]
- Mood:
awake
My five favourite books are … today … at the time of posting and subject to alteration at any given time … [ETA: I've tried to be honest and include books I read and kept to read again rather than books that make me sound more literary, intellingent and impressive]. Feel free to steal as that’s what I did.
Velvet Elvis – Rob Bell.
From the introduction, “This book is for those who need a fresh take on Jesus and what it means for us to live the kind of life he teaches us to live. This pursuit of Jesus is leading us backward as much as forward...I am learning that what seems brand new is often just the discovery of something that has been there all along - it just got lost somewhere and it needs to be picked up, dusted off, and reclaimed. We have to test everything. Do that to this book. Don't swallow it uncritically. Think about it. Wrestle with it. Just because I'm a Christian and I'm trying to articulate a Christian world view doesn't mean I've got it nailed. I'm contributing to the discussion. God has spoken, and the rest is commentary, right?"
I do like Rob Bell, he’s sort of like Dr Who with a dog collar. He tosses ideas around and then leaves you to think about them. And Make Your Own Mind Up. Mr T and I have had numerous conversations that start, “I was reading this bit in Rob Bell and …” It’s also a useful antidote to those moments when I’m thinking that if I had a £1 for every time I was embarrassed by a fellow Christian, I wouldn't have an overdraft. (Why are the most vocal sector of my community one step away from wearing tin foil hats or barking at the moon?!). Blue Like Jazz by Daniel Miller deserves an honourable mention as well as the last chapter made me blub. (It’s all about not living like you’re the only one that counts and gets re-read regularly as a sanity check).
The Merlin Conspiracy – Diane Wynne Jones
Plot summary pinched from Amazon, “In the world called
This is extremely fast moving – slightly rushed in the last section – and a bit complicated. Bits of it are based on Welsh mythology. I love Wynne Jones’ books and this is fab.
Pride & Prejudice – Jane Austin
Mr Darcy. Nuff said. (I have to confess that although N&S has replaced P&P as my BBC Classic Time Waster of Choice, I have still yet to make it past page 10 of N&S so P&P is my favourite of the two books. But I shall take N&S on holiday and have a proper crack at it).
The Man with the Golden Torc – Simon R Green
There’s nothing like crap sci-fi. And this is exactly what you want – it rattles along at a cracking pace. It’s the story of Eddie Drood aka Shaman Bond. A highly effective, if slightly rebellious, field agent for the humanity's secret protectors, the Drood family. The plot follows Eddie as he discovers that his family aren't what he thought they were and discovers some shocking stuff along the way. Importantly for crap sci-fi, it is one of a series so there’s plenty more where that came from.
The Bible
A book of history, poetry and mythology … It never ceases to surprise, amazing, challenge and puzzle me. (I should read it much more often than I do). This counts as four and a half. It’s my list and I’ll do what I like.
The Cook's Book of Everything – Lulu Grimes
How to do all sorts of weird and wonderful – and hopefully edible – things with food - make the world's best zuppa inglese; coat meat with flour and not get your hands dirty; how to keep your friands light and stop your souffles sinking; how to chiffonade a handful of fresh basil in 10 seconds; how to make a perfect beer batter for fish, and perfect chips to go with it; how to buy a fresh crab and get rid of the 'funny' bits; how to whip egg whites. It Taught Me To Make Pastry from scratch. And now I’ve proved to myself it is possible many years down the line from Domestic Science at school, I can go back to buying stuff in a packet again.
Of course, if you ask me tomorrow, I'll post something completely different. [ETA: I'm already kicking myself for missing out such gems as The Virgin Blue, Temeraire, Home Cook, The Host etc. This is blooming hard!]
- Mood:
contemplative
