"Let us sit upon the floor and tell sad stories..."
I overheard two Australian girls talking on the tube this morning. One of them said she thought the summer was probably over. The other agreed, and said she just hoped they had another nice day for something they were doing. The first one said, yes, and wasn't it something when you had to hope for one nice day in the summer. I laughed a little inside. Welcome to England, my darlings...
In other news, I made a courgette/marrow, tomato and goats cheese quiche (with parmesan and chilli pastry), so that's in the oven at the moment. And, excitingly, I made chicken korma! Properly, from scratch! I've never made a curry or anything before, so it was vee exciting. Tasted OK, though I need to tinker with the spice ratio, and also make sure I use the whole can of coconut milk next time. Still yay and also yum.
In yet more news... well, no way to beat about the bush, poppets. I've been a little bit stupid again. Sit back, and pray allow me to lay the scene.
Many years ago, when the world was bright and young and was but a nubile eighteen year old, I started to dye my hair. I continued this trend faithfully until I was about 25. Come rain or fall, I would be there with my trusty home dye kit. I varied my colours from time to time, but never did I depart the well-beloved spectrum of blonde-auburn-ginger. Time passed, and I came to realise that my hair constantly kept fading to its natural colour in about three minutes without me noticing, and dying it was a bit of a waste of time. And so, I stopped. That were four year ago come Michaelmas-tide.* But darlings, I've been wavering recently. I've missed having the ginger hair of my youth. It grieves me to have a hair colour that cannot be named (so, in fact, I'm blaming all this on klo_the_hobbit for rubbing it in). And so...
I... I...
No. I can't. I--
IboughthairdyethatwastootootootooredanduseditandnowIlooklikeafuckingpillarboxandIhatemylifeandmyhairandtheworldandI'mneverleavingthehouseeveragain.
Pray for me.**
* Insert Cold Comfort Farm-esque accent here, please.
** Standard disclaimer: not actually.
In other news, I made a courgette/marrow, tomato and goats cheese quiche (with parmesan and chilli pastry), so that's in the oven at the moment. And, excitingly, I made chicken korma! Properly, from scratch! I've never made a curry or anything before, so it was vee exciting. Tasted OK, though I need to tinker with the spice ratio, and also make sure I use the whole can of coconut milk next time. Still yay and also yum.
In yet more news... well, no way to beat about the bush, poppets. I've been a little bit stupid again. Sit back, and pray allow me to lay the scene.
Many years ago, when the world was bright and young and was but a nubile eighteen year old, I started to dye my hair. I continued this trend faithfully until I was about 25. Come rain or fall, I would be there with my trusty home dye kit. I varied my colours from time to time, but never did I depart the well-beloved spectrum of blonde-auburn-ginger. Time passed, and I came to realise that my hair constantly kept fading to its natural colour in about three minutes without me noticing, and dying it was a bit of a waste of time. And so, I stopped. That were four year ago come Michaelmas-tide.* But darlings, I've been wavering recently. I've missed having the ginger hair of my youth. It grieves me to have a hair colour that cannot be named (so, in fact, I'm blaming all this on klo_the_hobbit for rubbing it in). And so...
I... I...
No. I can't. I--
IboughthairdyethatwastootootootooredanduseditandnowIlooklikeafuckingpillarboxandIhatemylifeandmyhairandtheworldandI'mneverleavingthehouseeveragain.
Pray for me.**
* Insert Cold Comfort Farm-esque accent here, please.
** Standard disclaimer: not actually.