so, finally we know what will become of us here in our comfy little place in Sausageland. Mr V and I will be returning to the UK at the end of September. It's a bit dissapointing, as we quite like it here!
On a more cheerful note, We will be able to see friends and family a lot more, and I will at least be able to find a job in smelly old London. we shall see how it pans out, for there will be more changes in the future I am sure.
Monday 27 August 2007
Wednesday 15 August 2007
no more tea
I'm running low on my favourite teabags! this is fairly serious, since I drink it all the time and I can only get the teabags in England. Twinings decaf Earl Grey. Some might not see the point in drinking tea without caffeine in, it's much like ordering a decaffeinated coffee in Starbucks, The staff generally look at you as if to say 'why are you bothering?' . I do go through phases of preferring decaf or caffeinated tea and coffee. The coffee here in sausageland is very strong, and affects me somewhat, so I try to avoid it, but it's hard, as I do love the taste. So I think I shall be sending out a plea to someone soon in England for some more teabags, as I am currently in a 'no caffeine' phase of my ever erratic life.
Tuesday 14 August 2007
I need a haircut
I haven't had a haircut since February, when I was in Shanghai. It was a fantastic haircut, and I now face the terrible situation of chosing a hairdresser here in my adopted hometown. Last time I got my haircut here I went to a 'safe bet' Toni & Guy salon, but was pretty dissapointed with the results. Hairdressers sometimes have this annoying habit of seeing long hair, and just combing it straight when it's wet, and cutting an inch off around the bottom. I think this is just lazy, and expect much more for my 50 Euros quite frankly.
I did try a little local salon up the road once as well, but the brusque girl who served me, handed me the hairdryer to dry it myself after she had cut it. After she saw my cunfused expression, she explained that I had to pay an extra 10 euros for her to dry it....I find this quite bizarre. The unhelpful girl then proceeded to lecture me on how it was such a waste of a blow dry if I didn't have anything special on to warrant an extra fee for her drying my hair...WHAT??!! If I want her to dry my hair and I'm prepared to pay 10euros more, then so what? It's none of her business what I'm doing that night or why I want my hair dryed nicely so it doesn't look like a total frizz ball for once. she certainly won't get me back in her salon, the cow.
I think my anxiety about finding a decent hairdresser in this bossy place is quite justified. Perhaps I should go for a 'top stylist' rather than a junior.. especially if I have highlights, which I am considering, since the lack of sunshine this summer has left my hair looking rather boring. Failing that I could go for a total re-style, something short, hmmm, I'm not sure that would be altogether satisfying though. I might regret it deeply, and have to wait ages for it to grow back.
It is perhaps testament to the mundanity of my life that I am even remotely concerned about my haircut. It's simply long and messy, and need to be shorter and neat, not exactly brain surgery, but girls do love to fret about their hair.
Shanghai haircut
I did try a little local salon up the road once as well, but the brusque girl who served me, handed me the hairdryer to dry it myself after she had cut it. After she saw my cunfused expression, she explained that I had to pay an extra 10 euros for her to dry it....I find this quite bizarre. The unhelpful girl then proceeded to lecture me on how it was such a waste of a blow dry if I didn't have anything special on to warrant an extra fee for her drying my hair...WHAT??!! If I want her to dry my hair and I'm prepared to pay 10euros more, then so what? It's none of her business what I'm doing that night or why I want my hair dryed nicely so it doesn't look like a total frizz ball for once. she certainly won't get me back in her salon, the cow.
I think my anxiety about finding a decent hairdresser in this bossy place is quite justified. Perhaps I should go for a 'top stylist' rather than a junior.. especially if I have highlights, which I am considering, since the lack of sunshine this summer has left my hair looking rather boring. Failing that I could go for a total re-style, something short, hmmm, I'm not sure that would be altogether satisfying though. I might regret it deeply, and have to wait ages for it to grow back.
It is perhaps testament to the mundanity of my life that I am even remotely concerned about my haircut. It's simply long and messy, and need to be shorter and neat, not exactly brain surgery, but girls do love to fret about their hair.
Shanghai haircut
Monday 13 August 2007
lunch with a stone
ha ha, well not exactly. I went for lunch with my friend AM today, and we went to my favourite cafe by the river, Marcels. It's clearly the place to go, as Ron Wood also decided to lunch there, and we sat on the table next to him, and all his minders/translators/friends. The Rolling Stones are playing here tonight, so I was not surprised to see him, just thought it was quite novel really. I'm not one for rushing up and bothering famous people with requests for autographs and cheesey photos. If anything I go the other way and kind of ignore them, almost to the point of being rude, which is a bit silly. AM is actually going to the concert tonight, but she couldn't remember which one of the Stones he was, so didn't feel that it would be appropriate to approach him and ask his name....
Mr Wood was quite loud and I couldn't help but overhear much of his conversation, although this might have been due to his speaking English. Living in a foreign country, one can't help but get over sensitive to spoken english in public, my ears can syphion it out from all the foreign languages at a good 40 paces. He was very nice to a couple of enthousiastic fans who waited paitently to approach him as he left the restaurant terrace, he shook their hands and posed for a photo before being bundled into a big silver car and driven away. What a nice man! mind you, it is his job, and he's had enough practice.
Now, I can hear a few voices out there crying in anger and shock..."Why didn't you corner him for a peck on the cheek and a photo!!" I know, I know, I'm rubbish like that...but some experiences are best left to the memory, I'm not a huge fan of the Stones, and not about to pretend to be one for the sake of his celebrity. It's like the time George Best and I smiled at each other as I passed him in his dressing gown on the stairs at Champneys. I couldn't stop and shake his hand, or pretend I'd ever seen a football game he'd played in...It would just have been wrong.
Mr Wood was quite loud and I couldn't help but overhear much of his conversation, although this might have been due to his speaking English. Living in a foreign country, one can't help but get over sensitive to spoken english in public, my ears can syphion it out from all the foreign languages at a good 40 paces. He was very nice to a couple of enthousiastic fans who waited paitently to approach him as he left the restaurant terrace, he shook their hands and posed for a photo before being bundled into a big silver car and driven away. What a nice man! mind you, it is his job, and he's had enough practice.
Now, I can hear a few voices out there crying in anger and shock..."Why didn't you corner him for a peck on the cheek and a photo!!" I know, I know, I'm rubbish like that...but some experiences are best left to the memory, I'm not a huge fan of the Stones, and not about to pretend to be one for the sake of his celebrity. It's like the time George Best and I smiled at each other as I passed him in his dressing gown on the stairs at Champneys. I couldn't stop and shake his hand, or pretend I'd ever seen a football game he'd played in...It would just have been wrong.
Tuesday 7 August 2007
Just a Trifle
As mentioned in my last post I was having some difficulty procuring custard powder. I promised Mr V that for his birthday I would make him a trifle, his favourite pudding. It is also my favourie pudding, so I was quite happy to have the task. All the ingrients were simple, except the Custard. I was all set to make it from scratch with some help from Delia Smith, but, to my great relief and joy, our friend SJ smuggled some instant birds over from England. Hurrah!
The final debate was what to put on top, I am a great believer in toasted almond slices, but Mr V was adament that it should be hundreds and thousands. The argument raged all week long, all the way through the various stages of the trifle preparation. In the end I conceded, and let him have his way, after all it was his birthday.
On saturday night we had great party, at which, being the hostess, I forgot to take any photos, and drank way to much white wine and soda. Mr V cooked his famous Chilli, presented with a flourish at around 10 pm, only to be devoured by the ravenus hoardes in a matter of minutes. Mr V jr.complained that it was served too late, pah! I say, who cares? I'm just happy that all the trifle was eaten as well. there is nothing worse than left over trifle hogging the fridge.
The final debate was what to put on top, I am a great believer in toasted almond slices, but Mr V was adament that it should be hundreds and thousands. The argument raged all week long, all the way through the various stages of the trifle preparation. In the end I conceded, and let him have his way, after all it was his birthday.
On saturday night we had great party, at which, being the hostess, I forgot to take any photos, and drank way to much white wine and soda. Mr V cooked his famous Chilli, presented with a flourish at around 10 pm, only to be devoured by the ravenus hoardes in a matter of minutes. Mr V jr.complained that it was served too late, pah! I say, who cares? I'm just happy that all the trifle was eaten as well. there is nothing worse than left over trifle hogging the fridge.
Thursday 2 August 2007
It's arrived!
yes, the moment I have been waiting for, the arrival of MY NEW SEWING MACHINE. Now it may seem rather odd to those non-sewers of you out there, but I can admit freely that I have always hankered after an industrial sewing machine. The fast staight line stitching, the ability to glide through several layers of fabric, and even to sew chunky denim and wool, are all attractive capabilities, you have to agree.
I decided I must have this wonderful piece of equipment after making the first few prototype handbags for my business, after much snarled up thread, and several frustatingly slow sewing hours, I realised that my 2 small domestic machines were really too feeble to match my ambitious plan for sewing. I scoured E-bay, and found a couple of things, but had no real idea what I was looking at, so contacted a dealer in the UK, who gave me the number for Mr L, in a town up the road. I went to visit Mr L, and he showed me his big warehouse full of machines, I phoned him up the next day to let him know what I had decided I wanted, and hey presto, here it is, or should I say 'here she is'? hmmm, should a sewing machine be male or female? I think perhaps I shall reserve judgement on that question, until continued use reveals the machine's reliability.
At this point I should let you see a photo of the fantastic thing:
and, of course, thank my Grandparents, who's post mortem generosity has enabled this business investment.
I decided I must have this wonderful piece of equipment after making the first few prototype handbags for my business, after much snarled up thread, and several frustatingly slow sewing hours, I realised that my 2 small domestic machines were really too feeble to match my ambitious plan for sewing. I scoured E-bay, and found a couple of things, but had no real idea what I was looking at, so contacted a dealer in the UK, who gave me the number for Mr L, in a town up the road. I went to visit Mr L, and he showed me his big warehouse full of machines, I phoned him up the next day to let him know what I had decided I wanted, and hey presto, here it is, or should I say 'here she is'? hmmm, should a sewing machine be male or female? I think perhaps I shall reserve judgement on that question, until continued use reveals the machine's reliability.
At this point I should let you see a photo of the fantastic thing:
and, of course, thank my Grandparents, who's post mortem generosity has enabled this business investment.
Mr and Mrs T came to stay
Only for 2 nights, which was enough, and not very long at the same time. On Friday night we went to a brewery called Schumachers, for a bit of traditional Schweinhaxe, and sausages (of course!), with Saurkraut and kartoffel puree on the side. Luckily, Mr T. has been blessed with an extremely healthy apetite, and hollow legs, so the vast portion we were served was well eaten by the time our waiter came to clear the table.
Our weekend was one of food, shopping, and rest, which went down very well on all sides, especially since Sunday was really dreary and rainy. I often feel when I have friends or family to visit that every moment should be of fantastic excitement, and those visiting should leave with the feeling that they have been totally entertained and their every whim has been catered for. Mrs T. reminded me that this is actually not as important as getting a good rest, the chance to eat some nice food and do a bit of 'nothing' for a while. This takes the stress of entertaining down a notch or two I must admit, especially since our humble abode will be invaded by guests for the coming 2 weeks almost constantly.
This revelation has left me free to focus on the important things in life, such as 'where does one buy Bird's custard powder on the continent?' It appears that the answer is 'nowhere'. Im therefore dusting off Mr V's edition of Delia's Complete Cookery Course, in the hope that my meagre culinary skills might enable me to make it from scratch....fingers crossed!
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