Screw that cleaning I'm blogging this morning!

Well. It’s about time I wrote another post; I’m sure you must all think I’m a lazy good for nothing housewife who sits nibbling chocolate chip cookies all day. Now I won’t deny there’s a slight degree of accuracy in that statement…but I’d just like to point out they’re lovely miniature chocolate chip cookies which are sooo tasty and because they are so tiny I get to eat twice as many! Hurray!

Anyway I’m just going to waffle and we’ll see what happens which is pretty much like when I cook; at first when I crack those eggs I dream of lovely pert yolks and handing Mr T his fried Sunday breakfast with the eggs beautifully placed aside a lovely piece of finely charred bacon. But alas they always seem to end up scrambled. I’m not sure why although I’m still not certain about the difference between spatulas and whisks. I quite like poached eggs myself but the last time I tried that the farmer got really, really cross.

However, I suppose I could pop down to Mrs A’s house to find out about spatulas and such like. Now Mrs A, who has commented many a time on my site, is in the unfortunate position of living down the round from me. In fact her dry, acerbic wit frequently pulls me out of my deep depressions which happen when I’m contemplating my future life alongside those lovely aluminium saucepans. Indeed a few weeks back I tripped down there (there was a crack in the pavement) to moan about Mr T making me stack the pans in descending order of size.

“What’s the use in that?” I cried “I only have to get them out again tomorrow and nobody sees them!”

“What are you blubbing about,” replied Mrs A, “I have to hang my kitchen tools on exactly the right peg or Mr A goes up the wall. He is so finicky and particular! And the dratted things have to be colour coded as well!”

Well, you can imagine my sheer and utter…. Delight! Mr A is as bad as Mr T! Well, that’s a very, very, very satisfying situation. It’s extrememy therapeutic knowing that there are woman like me not just down my street but probably all the world over being harassed by their psychotic husbands!

Now I’d like you to read this link below (if I can I’ll link it but if not you’ll have to cut and paste it). Now this link was sent to me by the knowledgeable Mrs A who was obviously trying to stir me up into some sort of vitriolic, abusive tirade and I might add she has succeeded……

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/7338644.stm

“CLEANING IMPROVES MENTAL HEALTH.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah; it’s entirely obvious to me that this is another male ploy to try and convince us women that staying at home and attending to all the cleaning, cooking and ironing is a valuable job.

To which I say;

WHAT A LOAD OF ABSOLUTE UTTER, RIDUCULIOUS TOSH!!!!1

Yeah, if cleaning improves mental health how come I’m stark raving bonkers?? Point proved… without having to waste thousands of pounds on ludicrous research at the taxpayer’s expense. In fact why do they keep doing all these daft surveys to tell us what invariably we already know? You know ones like; “Short Fat, Women Who Eat Too Much Chocolate Die Younger.” I want to be told something I don’t already know; for instance like “Short, Fat Women Are Better in Bed than Skinny Women Because They Have Better Reserves of Energy.” Now that would be an investigation I would be interested in knowing the result. (And moreover, I would be happy to offer my services, provided of course it is tastefully done. (i.e. Pierce Brosnan is among the male sample group.)

Now on another matter; at last, I have a new cooker! Yep, Mr T finally made his decision and after having duly irritated, harassed and persecuted retailers all over the land the new cooker has been fitted. (The suicide rate has, unfortunately, dramatically risen in the UK recently.)

And guess what? I can actually see through the cooker's glass window. Remarkable. Now I can actually watch the food burn instead of having it sprung on me when I open the door. I feel this will work wonders for my mental health; I do so hate being taken by surprise. (Unless it’s by Mr Brosnan; where I would be happy to omit foreplay.)

So the Turley Pizza surprise is no more and it’s back to the usual dismal offerings. Now I know I do say the occasional caustic remarks about the charming Mr T but as I am sure you are all aware he is indeed a lovely man (although a little too house-proud for my liking) and to this extent he very honourably decided to christen the cooker by cooking Sunday Lunch for The Turley Tribe. Alas, all did not go well - for the new cooker seems to be much hotter than the last and the roast beef was somewhat “hard”. Mind you it proved very useful for my shot-put lessons this morning. (Oh by the way, did I tell you that I’m hoping to compete in the 2012 Olympics as England’s champion Shot Put thrower? I’m in heavy training already.) And as for the Yorkshire puddings – they were “crispy”. However, we did have a good game of Frisbee later in the garden.

Now I’ve had a very busy day so far, scribing, scheduling tennis matches, sampling a nice array of cookies and toffees and corresponding with the lovely young Master Sy of The Wheel is Turning But the Hamster is Dead fame.( http://www.wheelturninghamsterdead.com/)Now if you haven’t checked out the Young Master yet then I suggest you do. Put it this way; he often tickles my fancy and if you fancy yours being tickled I suggest you pop over for a feather duster or two. Now Master Sy has told me that I have won his competition and duly won a tee shirt of the lovely hamster and soon it will be winging its way by harrier jump jet (or possibly an old bike) from the depths of some mouldy old haversack where he keeps his old vests and pants to the Mrs T’s infamous abode. Where I will first wash it, shrink it and place it upon my heaving bosom for photo opportunities. Master Sy says I must post a picture, which I have agreed to, although this time I’ll try and remember to airbrush some of the wrinkles (and fat) out.

Anyway, I kinda feel a little mean because my answer to Master Sy’s competition was so brilliant (What would you do to win his tee-shirt?) that after my entrance it all went quiet. Oops. I’m not saying I was enthuasstic about winning but I did leave several bodies in my wake and I even forgot to eat my chocolate (for half an hour). So I think it’s only fair that I have my own competition in order that Master Sy has the opportunity to win something back. Now I’ve thought, really, really, hard about this… about as hard as I do when I’m cooking…. And I’ve come up with this…

I will give 3 prizes for the three people who come up with the best time saving ideas to reduce the amount of time I spend labouring in my kitchen and cleaning my house.

Now these can be tried and tested labour saving devices but I’m happy to receive new ideas (whereby I will claim them as my own and patent them so becoming enormously rich and able to afford my own housekeeper.)
In order to encourage you to enter this fabulous, once in a lifetime competition I have some absolutely astounding prizes which are, in ascending order;

3rd place. A wonderful and fantastic array of dishcloths.

2nd place. A wonderful and fantastic array of dishcloths AND a high quality plastic scrubbing brush.

1st place. A wonderful and fantastic array of dishcloths, a high quality plastic scrubbing brush AND...

A box of THORNTONS CONTINENTAL CHOCOLATES!


Now I’m expecting ALL you ladies to come up with at least one good idea and I’ll be awarding prizes on merit. I will positively welcome contributions from my gentlemen readers too, especially Young Master Sy because I know deep, deep down in those male genes you would rather us ladies would be doing something a little bit more interesting.

Know what I mean?

So let’s hear the best you’ve got and make ‘em good; I need a distraction from cleaning.

Yours as ever,

Mrs T.

Copyright Jane Turley 2008