PURPLE TSUNAMI & MARROW RUM

My dear ladies and occasional gentleman, please bare with me as these little jottings are an attempt at thedrunkencyclist.com ‘Wine Writing Challenge’

Oh dear a magpie has just flown across the window, that doesn’t bode well for Jeff’s wine writing challenge, not that I am superstitious. But I did salute him, right hand to forehead, whilst saying, “Good day Mr Magpie how are you today? How’s your wife and children on this fine day.

Perhaps it was a crow, after all I did get excited this morning when I saw a hare out of the window, until I peeked through the binoculars and noted that it was in fact a pheasant!

What has this all got to do with wine you may ask and the answer would be, nothing!  So I had better get on as I have used up 142 of my 1000 words.

What do I know about wine I am sorry to say not a lot but I do enjoy drinking it. When I was a child there wasn’t any wine drunk or kept at home.

My father had a spell of making elderberry wine and it was maturing in the pantry in a wonderful old stoneware barrel with a bung in the side.

One memorable day my brother accidently knocked the BUNG out. It was like the ‘LITTLE DUTCH BOY’ trying to put his finger in the DYKE. As fast as we tried whilst slipping and sliding in the brilliant purple juice, we could not get the bung back in. The ELDERBERRY tide washed over our white socks and sandals on its way to spread across the kitchen floor like a PURPLE TSUNAMI covering everything in its path.

We stood and stared as it seemed like twice as much liquid had come out than could ever had been inside the barrel. We were THUNDERSTRUCK WITH FEAR. This was big! Bigger than the MARROW RUM incident!

My dad’s forays into home brewing had started with a net shopping bag, an extremely large marrow, some brown sugar and an airing cupboard. Apparently this is all you need to make marrow rum.

Having previously cut the top off the marrow, he scooped out the seeds, filled it up with dark brown sugar and put the top back on. Then he placed said marrow inside the net and hung it in the warm space in the AIRING CUPBOARD between my mother’s pristine WHITE COTTON bed sheets.

The MARROW RUM dripped from the bottom of the netted marrow into the waiting receptacle nestled below. We were instructed not to open the airing cupboard door as a constant heat needed to be maintained.

My sensible mother ignored this rule of course as she went about her housewifely duties, not amused about the miss-use of her laundry aid as she slapped her linen down huffily.

A few weeks later we were sat at the table at tea-time when there was a strange WHOOMPH from upstairs. The smell was INTOXICATING as we all trooped upstairs to the landing to find liquid seeping from underneath the airing cupboard door.

As my father gingerly opened the airing cupboard door, my mother’s face was a picture and on my father’s face was FEAR.  The MARROW had exploded! You cannot imagine the mess it had made.

My brother and I were just glad that this mess for once was nothing to do with us.

Which brings me back to the PURPLE PERIL, there was no way we were going to be able to conceal our crime. Our only chance was damage limitation but as fast as we tried to mop it up, more seem to appear. We had a growing pile of purple tea-cloths and towels but a never-ending supply of ELDERBERRY JUICE, so there was only one thing left to do.

My mother had been hanging out the washing but as we heard her footsteps approach the back door we both spontaneously burst into TEARS. With the MARROW RUM incident seared into our mother’s memory and her soft heart, we knew crying was guaranteed to extricate us from a potentially sticky situation with our father.

So that was my introduction to ALCOHOL but I am happy to say that my adult experiences are a definite improvement, although that MARROW RUM did taste delicious, licked off a sneaky finger.

My favourite wines are WHITE. I still haven’t managed to educate my palate to a red, although my husband is always trying to convince me of their merits.

A couple of years ago we cruised down the RHINE and oh how I enjoyed the wines of this wonderful region. The wine from German is particularly LIGHT and DELICATE. Unfortunately because of the market flood of CHEAP SWEET WINES in the 70’s people are a bit SNIFFY about GERMAN wines and won’t try them

REISLING is the KING of white wines from the RHINE and the most important grape. It is thought to have originated from various wild vines on the Upper Rhine in the 11th and 12th centuries. The grape  “RHINE REISLING” was first mentioned in the 15th century and the heat-storing mineral slate soil of the RHINE and MOSELLE gives the wine its UNIQUE TASTE. The wines are striking for their fine crisp, tangy, elegant and fruity flavour; though often thought of as sweet, most are either dry or off-dry.  

Reisling has now found a home in the New World, Australia, New Zealand and South Africa where it is proving to be well-suited.  You may not know that the famous ICE-WINES of Canada are mostly made of Reisling.

I went through a dodgy period of drinking ROSE but you need to buy wisely as some are too sweet for my taste.

I am finding it difficult to tear myself away from the German wines so as yet I have not sampled the New World wines.

But my dear ladies and occasional gentleman let us set forth together, and sip a few like the HUMMINGBIRD MOTH, then share results.

BRASSIERES & THE WRONG TROUSERS

BRASSIERES & THE WRONG TROUSERS

My dear ladies and occasional gentleman, attending a ‘Spring Market’ the other day with my dear friend Veronica, I noticed A WORRYING TREND.  We all like to relax at home in our relaxing garments, ELASTICATED WAISTBANDS, vests with REINFORCED CHEST area so you don’t have to wear a BRASSIERE (not of course the occasional gentleman), (well only if you have MAN-BOOBS), LAST SUMMER’S T-SHIRTS, the dipping hem CARDIGAN your GRANNY knitted, you understand what I mean. However what we DON’T DO is wear these garments out and about IN PUBLIC!

The gentlemen were the first culprits, many of them were wearing THE WRONG TROUSERS!

My dear ladies and occasional gentleman I am going to spare you. There will NOT be any pictures, it was disturbing enough for my SENSIBILITIES and I am a WOMAN OF THE WORLD. I think we would all agree that the worst culprit is the JOGGING TROUSER, now we know they are as comfortable as wearing your PYJAMAS but that is the reason they must only be worn for PHYSICAL EXERCISE and LITTLE JOBS at home or RELAXING. 

For a gentleman in jogging trousers, there is too much ROOM FOR IDLE HANDS in those FRONT POCKETS, isn’t there ladies? Far too much JIGGLING AROUND going on!  they just cannot help themselves. One man looked as if he had borrowed his joggers from his COWS and had put them on in the dark. They were half up his TUMMY half down, twisted almost on sideways, the bottoms were heading to his KNEES not his ANKLES and they were adorned with COW POO.  not a good look for an April Spring Fayre. Although he was a SMILEY man so he’s forgiven.

There were some  lovely summery colourful ladies; one sporting a new PINK FLORAL SUMMER DRESS with spaghetti straps. Now she had bought it in her correct size. Unfortunately she had decided to wear it without underwear and her Bosoms were resting on the accompanying PINK SHINY BELT at her waist; there was a lot of Bosom!

LADIES PLEASE! Always wear a BRASSIERE or BIKINI TOP under a skimpy sundress unless you are under 9 years of age!

My congratulations go to the lady in her 60’s who was sporting a pair of SHORT YELLOW LINEN SHORTS over thick BROWN TIGHTS with a WHITE CARDIGAN over. 

How interesting and wonderful  people are, let us all go out and WEAR WHAT WE LIKE, dare to be different, experiment with COLOUR  and STYLE but always remember, KEEP YOUR BRASSIERES ON!

Yours Brassierely

Celia

p.s. I just wanted to point out that I didn’t mean I wear just an ELASTICATED WAISTBAND on its own, it is always accompanied by a trouser. C

 

 

PHILIP’S PRINCELY MIXED GARDEN OF DELIGHTS

PHILIP’S PRINCELY MIXED GARDEN OF DELIGHTS
My dear friend HER MAJ telephoned yesterday, she had been ROYAL SILVER SURFING and catching up with my little ‘BLISS’. She was concerned bless her about Ronald’s RAISED VEGETABLE BED, as it reminded her of an incident with dear PHIIP.
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Apparently he had been planning a BIRTHDAY SURPRISE, how sweet and had decided to order some of her favourite FLOWERING PLANTS for her PRIVATE LADYGARDEN.

She tells me he is not terribly O FAY with the INTERNET but decided to place an order ONLINE using VOICE SPEAK.

The order duly arrived much quicker than dear PHILIP had expected and containing goods that he definitely WASN’T.

He had ordered a selection of one of HER MAJ’S favourite flowers the LUPIN. Choosing colours close to her heart:
32. COLONIES CREAM
19. SUNSET OVER SCOTLAND
23. ROYAL SCARLET
29. GORDON’S GREEN
36. ASCOT BLUE
16. CORGI CARAMEL
21. STAG’S HEAD HEATHER

Dear PHILIP was expecting the delivery in about 10 days, so imagine his SURPRISE when it turned up that evening on the back of a LAMBRETTA!
A number:

32. CRISPY AROMATIC DUCK
19. KUNG PAO CHICKEN
23. BEEF FRANK IN A BLACK BEAN SAUCE
29. MUSHROOM FOO YOUNG
36. A VEGETABLE SAMOSA
16. SOME SINGAPORE NOODLES
21. AND A BLACK FOREST GATEAU

HER MAJ discovered that he had called ‘LU-PIN’S GARDEN OF DELIGHTS’ CHINESE RESTAURANT instead of ‘LUPINS GARDEN OF DELIGHTS NURSERY’

Oh my dear ladies and occasional gentleman, how we LAUGHED, well I did, HER MAJ just TINKLED ROYALY.

Yours Chuckling

Celia

COSMETIC CITRUS TART RHINOPLASTY

COSMETIC CITRUS TART RHINOPLASTY

My dear ladies and occasional gentleman I write whilst looking like this…..
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There was an INCIDENT whilst packing our bags at TESCOS checkout. This wouldn’t have happened if we had been in WAITROSE!

We had popped out for a quick shop and whilst at the checkout packing our bags, Ronald WACKED me on the nose with a BOX OF TWO LEMON CITRUS TARTS!

I am taking his word that it was an ACCIDENT.

Yours Nosely

Celia

SPRING FAYRE, GLOSSY MUMMYS & DAISYS

SPRING FAYRE, GLOSSY MUMMYS & DAISYS
What fun my dear ladies and occasional gentleman, Ronald and I have been spending a few days in the COTSWOLDS, with my lovely daughter-in-law and son.

On Friday we attended a SPRING FAYRE in the garden of a very lovely lady, who opened her home and garden for the event in aid of the local CHURCH.

What a lot of YUMMY-MUMMYS and how LOVELY, GLOSSY and BEAUTIFULLY dressed they were. Tripping about amongst the flowers and over the miniature MOAT. Dangling their ROSY-CHEEKED babies and watching their DARLING CHILDREN chase amongst the DAISYS.

PONY-RIDES, name the twin LAMBS and a RAFFLE plus a lovely lunch or TEA and CAKES were on offer, all whilst the SUN was thankfully shining.

Enjoying a lively chat on the lawn with some of the LOVELY LADIES, whilst waiting for the RAFFLE to be drawn, I heard the magic words “I THINK IT’S WINE O’CLOCK” , as WINE GLASSES, ICE-CUBES and WINE appeared. It was only 3 O’Clock perfect.

Yours Springily

Celia