Christmas food

Posted on November 27, 2015 by thepogblog

It feels like ages ago when I sighed on seeing that Tesco had put out their mince pies, thinking it was far too early…and promptly putting a box of 6 in with my shopping.  Then then repeating the process every week since.

Even though it’s still November, London is feeling very Christmassy – it’s dark when I arrive and leave now, and the blue and white lights strung across The Strand make it feel a bit special. So when I pop into the supermarket on my way to the office to grab some lunch, even though my head is shouting that it’s still November, my tummy often requests something that will make that festive feeling last.  Which is why I bought this soup on Monday:

soup

I can confirm, that this soup contains no festiveness.  If this is what a white Christmas tastes like, we should thank our lucky stars that we’ve not had one in years and that, for the most part, snow can only be expected around the start of summer.  Should we have one this year, do not attempt to taste it – you’ll be disappointed (No, I have no idea how you would taste a concept either.  I can only assume that’s where the whole soup idea went very wrong).

And don’t get me started on the Winter Spice Ribena.  Winter spices do not taste like cough medicine.  I’ve noticed it’s not actually on the shelves where I bought it now – presumably it’s been withdrawn for breaking trading standard rules, or maybe they sold out and there are a lot of others in Bumpkinstown with a bottle languishing in the back of a cupboard…or who have donated it to their very own Little Pea (who weirdly, likes it).

Maybe  I shouldn’t have tried to be festive so early.  Or maybe I should just stick to the mince pies :o)

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How not to behave at an exhibition

Posted on November 24, 2015 by thepogblog

I probably shouldn’t go to exhibitions.  I discovered this on Saturday when I went to London (I know – on a Saturday – that is practically against my religion) to meet up with a friend for a lot of nattering and a visit to the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition.

It is a brilliant exhibition and I loved it.  I just don’t think the (very quiet) people around really appreciated my rather vocal approach to it all.  Don’t get me wrong – I wasn’t shouting, or even talking loudly.  I just did my usual thing of not stopping the words in my head from falling out my mouth.

Like….

  • When I started a conversation with a rather startled lady about whether the 10 year old winner of the Young Photographer of the Year would go on to do amazing things.
  • Or when I announced to my friend that I didn’t like the landscapes.
  • Or when I got the giggles over a crab.  And the penguins.  And the walrus. And the seal….
  • Or when I got upset that those two newty things were not, in fact, having a cuddle.
  • Or when I informed quite a few people that that lizard was very beautiful, but he clearly knew it and that wasn’t a very endearing trait in anyone.

I think I did overstep the mark though, when we got to the overall winner and I said ‘I don’t like it’.  But I didn’t.  It was an amazing image, but it wasn’t a happy one.  And, as you probably know, my personal preference is for smiles.  (You can see the winning photograph here.)

I’m no photographer, but it must have inspired me when, on Sunday I realised Norman was sitting on the conservatory roof.  Some of the photographs had been those brilliant ones where things don’t appear as they really are, so I thought I would emulate this (only without the years of set up, building of special devices and the patience that those in the exhibition all seemed to have in bucket loads) and tried to get a picture of Norman flying.  I failed.  Miserably.  But as I can’t post any of the exhibition images on here because of copyright, it’s all you’re going to get:

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I told you.  Utter failure! But did it make you smile, just a little bit?  :o)

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Animal superpowers

Posted on November 20, 2015 by thepogblog

Yesterday I told someone at work that my cat has quite a personality.  She said ‘all animals do though, don’t they?’  My first instinct was that she didn’t get it – Norman is different.  I mean, you’ve seen this, right?

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But actually she’s right.

This is Monster, one of Sister 1’s three dogs.  He can smile:

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And this is Bertie, Sister 2’s epileptic Boxer dog who is the size of a small horse and likes giving hugs:

bertie

Aren’t they great?

And we know Norman is great too, but he excelled himself last night.  He always sleeps on top of my wardrobe.  He either goes up there when I go to bed, or if I am still up, between exactly 11.45pm and midnight he will climb off his spot on the sofa, look at me in a slightly disapproving way, and make a noise while he jumps up as though to tell me I should be making a move towards the land of nod too.

The last few nights I’ve not slept very well– if the cough lingering from last weeks cold hasn’t woken me up, really weird nightmares have (the most memorable being the one where I was chased by blood thirsty horses after all my teeth and gums had fallen out, which apparently the horses wanted to eat….I have no idea where that came from.) Between the two, I’ve managed 3-4 hours sleep each night.  But not last night.  Last night Norman must have known and decided to intervene, ignoring the wardrobe.  Instead, he curled up next to me on the bed, wrapped his tail around my neck and stayed there all night.  And I slept like a bear in hibernation.

Smiling Monsters, hugging Berties and sleep inducing Normans.  You can’t really help but smile. :o)

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Upholstering with Norman

Posted on November 17, 2015 by thepogblog

Not quite a year ago I started evening classes in upholstery.  I imagined it would become one of those things where, after a term of classes I could spend a few hours at the weekend working on my latest project in the conservatory, no teacher needed, producing beautiful things.  It turns out I didn’t think things through:

  • Other than being able to crochet, I’m not very crafty
  • I don’t remember instructions
  • My house is not big enough to hold any more things – beautiful or not
  • I am cack handed when it comes to hammers and tacks.  Give me a foot long needle (spot it in the video at the end) and you’re inviting disater
  • I have a Norman cat that likes to involve himself in everything

It also turns out it takes AGES to upholster anything.  Possibly because I am not very good at it.

Despite this, my parents were given a rather knackered looking foot stall and thought I could ‘do it up as a little side project’.  It took me and Dad a few hours just to strip it back, but I was determined that in my week off I would get it done.

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(stool is on the right, obviously)

I started it at an all day class, alongside a chair (which I still haven’t finished and don’t have room in Pog Towers for when I do).  I got it to this stage:

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But realised I still needed help with the stitching, so I went back for an hour to see the most patient teacher in the world to start me off.  I took photos, I wrote post it notes, I made a video, then I was on my own… (or as on my own as is possible with a Norman).

And very proud I am too, that I managed this:

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Sewing in holes (with help)…

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… to stuff with coconut matting…image

… adding a sheep….image

…then calico…

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…adding top fabric… (and bottom fabric, but you can’t see that), stitching in the edges (with supervision)

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…adding braid and taking it to its new home:

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It’s a long way from perfect, but there was quite an element of chaos in all of this.  I swear I didn’t stage this photograph:

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The whole thing is more messy than I thought it would be:

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And this, it turns out, is what happens when you try to sew big holes into hessian when a Norman cat is around:

But we got there.  I think in total it took around 15 hours, two blisters, about 10 cuts, a small amount of blood and a lot of swearing.  Unfortunately for my teacher, I have a very, very long way to go before I am capable of doing anything more complicated on my own :o)

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Internet dating: profile photos and how not to do them.

Posted on November 13, 2015 by thepogblog

Last night I went out with some friends and did something a little bit unkind.  In my defense, there were a series of events leading up to this which probably didn’t help:

  • I took this week as leave from work – my first week since July.  Last Saturday I got the first cold I’ve had all year and have spent the entire week coughing, shivering, sweating and using more tissues than can be good for the environment.  I wasn’t feeling great a few hours before it was time to go out, so I took some of those cold capsules.  That didn’t shift my headache, so I also popped some ibruprofen.
  • I very rarely drink.  I have had an open bottle of wine in my fridge for three weeks.  It’s probably only because I mix it with fizzy water in the way most people make squash that I can’t taste the fact it has gone off, or turned to vinegar….or whatever wine does.
  • Last night I wasn’t driving and managed to forget that I never drink neat wine.  Certainly never close to a bottle in a few hours. Combined with cold capsules and pain killers…
  • In a slightly inebriated state I noticed that te pub we were at had wifi…
  • …and remembered I had my iPad…
  • …and when the conversation got around to ‘are you going to try the internat dating again?’ I realised that I could show my friends one of the  many reasons I was not overly keen on putting my toe back in that particular puddle.

You see, although I know you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, when you’re recieving around ten matches a day you do go on photos to narrow them down a little.  At least that is how it started.  Now, I look forward to my matching emails just to see if any of the photos will make me actually laugh out loud.  Beacuse some are really, really terrible.  And this is where my unkindess comes in – last night I logged onto the dating app and scrolled through the pictures of the men I had been matched with to show my friends.  And we promptly became that table that nobody can hear themselves talk over because we were laughing so much.  To be clear, we weren’t laughing at what people looked like, just at what they thought was ‘that’ picture that would create the perfect first impression to bag them the date of their dreams, or in fact any date at all.

Obviously I wont share any of the pictures on here – but I thought using my (very unphotogenic) face, I could maybe offer a few tips on what to avoid based on some of the things I have seen so far…

1) Use a photo that you could be recognised from. Your feet are not ideal.  Neither is a palm tree or you as a teeny tiny dot against the backdrop of a really big ship.

2) Attempt to include yor whole face.  The following (both of which appear a lot) dont really work:

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3) You might have lovely eyes, but this is actually quite terrifying (especially when the eyes look a bit like they have come from a police e-fit):image

4) And for the love of God, I do understand that you might not have an iphone with the ability to flip the view for an easy selfie, but there is no excuse for this:image

You have a phone and you have a mirror.  It doesn’t take a genius to work it out: Turn the phone around and you don’t have to get your giant looking hands and the phone in the picture!  See?:

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5)  If the only decent photo you have of yourself is that corporate one of you sitting behind a desk at work which you use for business type things, get a friend to take a new one.  To me at least, the corportae one shouts either ‘I have no room in my life for anything but the office’ or ‘I have never been in a social situation involving a camera’.

6) SMILE.  Moody might have its place.  Miserable might even….somewhere.  But not on a dating site!

And finally, be aware that unless you have chosen a picture from the 70’s (which it looks like some people do), the person looking will be able to make a rough guesstimate about your age.  If you claim to be in your early 40’s but your photo clearly shows someone closer to my Dad’s age I probably won’t be the only person thinking that some people have a hard life, but not so hard it ages them a good 30 years…

So there you.  That’s my take on things for now.  To be clear, my photos are not great on this site.  Before I signed up I asked my sisters if they had any of me (as I have very few taken in the last few years where I actually look human) and we had a pretty terrible, very small  selection between us. But we did manage a couple and they are recent, if me and include an entire face.  Not necessarily a great face, but it is at least mine, and recent, and smiling! :o)

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Could you help the Pog blog? Please?

Posted on November 11, 2015 by thepogblog

I’ve said it before, but I will say it again. I never thought people would actually read my ramblings when a friend suggested writing a blog, years back on a night out, but they do…you do.  And very smile inducing that is too. :o)

More recently, people have been asking how to find my blog…and if you’re not a blogger and linked to WordPress, or a friend on Facebook, it is quite difficult, so I did a bit of thinking and I now have an easy to remember url (thepogblog.me) and a Pog Blog Facebook page . That means that anyone can ‘like’ the page and get updates.  But it means more too.  I will post some of the pictures that you have wanted to share there, so you can share away…Ones like this:

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Can we make Norman famous?!

And, and as I mentioned last night, I have created Poglet…see her as a Little Pog…who will be the voice of  me when those little things happen that won’t make a blog post, but need…well, something:

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It should provide you with a few extra smiles you might not see on the blog :o)

Now, I need your help. If you enjoy the Pog blog, would you ‘like’ the Facebook page? And if you occasionally crack a smile over my ramblings, maybe you could invite your friends to do the same so they can share the smiles too? I have a little pipe dream that one day the Pog blog will become something bigger (I have no idea what….please feel free to send me any ideas you think would work) but first I need to see if more people like my writing, or if you lovely readers are unique in taking a look :o)

PS: if the above isn’t enough to get you sharing I will tell you a short story.  When I was 12 my English teacher told me I was no good at English.  Many years later I did my English a-level in 6 months and got an A. I would love to be able to tell that teacher one day.

More recently, I was told my written work was not a good enough standard for something I was really looking forward to writing.  I know I make typos and my grammar is probably wrong 90% of the time, but I would like to think that some of the time, at least, I can tell  a story.  It took a while to prove that English teacher wrong. One day I would like to prove this individual wrong too.  Maybe this is one of the steps to get there :o)

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A fitball update and an introduction

Posted on November 10, 2015 by thepogblog

I’ve been asked a few times recently if I am still doing my fitball class as after my initial post, all has gone quiet on the fitball front.  I can confirm that, not only am I still going, but that in a shock development, it has become one of the highlights of my week.  I even tried to work out if my body could take two classes in a row, but luckily my brain kicked in at that point and suggested there was a good chance as a one hour class stops me being able to move properly for the rest of the week, two one hour classes might just kill me.

I have never really enjoyed anything that makes me too sweaty, but some classes have been such hard work that not only are my clothes clinging to me by the end, but my ears are full of sweat. Full. Like I have been swimming.  If my hair was longer, I am pretty sure I could wring it out.  And I love it.

One of the girls last night said that her favourite part of the class was watching my face as the teacher demonstrates the next set of exercises and my expression changes from concentration to utter confusion and the realisation there is a very good chance I won’t be getting this one quite right.  Such as this one:

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it’s me….the teacher took our photos to show what position we had got to, so it isn’t perfect. ‘All’ we had to do was stay like that, but use our abs to pull the ball closer, then push it further away.  I managed five before my tummy muscles felt like they might break and I had no choice but to fall off the ball….

That is kind of how the class goes, but something weird happens as soon as the music starts.  I start dancing and singing along (something that usually takes half a bottle of vodka in public) and I look forward to the pain and sweat.  I even manage a smile along with my pained expressions when I have trouble sneezing later in the week, without squeaking in pain.  I am not sure what has happened, but I appear to be enjoying exercise. It’s all a bit weird :o)

And onto other weird things, I would like you to meet Poglet. She also came to fit all last night (and also needed a helping hand.  Like Pog, like Poglet):

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I will blog about her and a bit of a plan later in the week, but if you are on Facebook and want to get a bit of a preview, join us over here :o)

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What goes around…

Posted on November 6, 2015 by thepogblog

A few years ago I had a car that was pretty much a rusty tin can on wheels.  Things went wrong with it often and I used to call my Dad to find out what the problem could be.  The calls would go something like this:

Me: Dad, the car is making a funny noise.  It sounds like this: <Insert pretty appalling impersonation of car noise>

Dad: How am I supposed to diagnose the issue over the phone, based on that?!

I bought a new car a few years ago, before the tin can rusted itself away into nothing and the phone calls like that weren’t needed anymore.

But what goes around comes around…  Mum and Dad invested in an iPad a few months ago which has resulted in a lesson of some sort pretty much every time I see them.  They are getting there – slowly – and they are trying new things which is great.  Dad is starting to get his own back on those phone calls about the car though.  The most recent ones went a bit like this:

Dad: I’m trying to leave a comment on your blog, but it is coming up with an error message.  What do I do?

Me: I can’t see your screen – we’re on the phone.

I didn’t think about suggesting he did a screen shot and mailed it to me, but I thought either the iPad or dad might collapse in the process.  I sorted it out next time I went to see them instead.  However, a few days later:

Dad: I’m trying to leave a comment on your blog, but now it’s asking me my name.  What do I do?

Me: I would suggest you type in your name, Dad

Dad:  But what is my name?

Me: ….

We’re not quite there yet, but we will get there.  One day…

One of our lessons involved showing Mum and Dad Siri.  They were very impressed…until Dad decided she cheated by sending him links to websites rather than giving him a direct answer for ‘Pi to 20 decimal places’.  I think I must have explained it badly.

I thought I’d ask Siri about my parents and their Ipad use though.  This is what I got:

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I’m obviously not the first with this issue :o)

Posted in Pog Life, technology | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

A thank you chicken

Posted on November 3, 2015 by thepogblog

When my Sisters and I were little we always wrote thank you cards – we all still do in fact.  Mum trained us well.  She  told us that if we didn’t write thank you’s for presents we were given the person who was kind enough to give us something would assume we didn’t like it and would never, ever give us anything again. Our Mum is not daft.

These days it’s an awful lot easier to send thanks via email, text message or facebook, but our family still firmly believe in tangible thank you’s that come through snail mail.  We even post them to each other.  Even if we are seeing each other before it will get delivered.  OK, it’s a bit odd, but at this stage in my blog, you shouldn’t be surprised.

Some of my friends write thank you cards too, and I love getting them.  Last week I had one from Gorgeous Godson’s big brother.  I could imagine the pain he and his Mum must have gone through to get those couple of lines written, and I appreciated it so much.  It’s up on my book shelf and will stay there until Christmas, at least.

This weekend though, I received a thank you more impressive than any other.  A while back I made a blanket for a baby my friend was expecting.  As the baby to be had a big sister I thought it only right she should have something too, so using the pattern I had for the chicken egg cosies I made at Easter and increasing it quite a bit, I made her a chicken toy:

egg cosy on the left, giant chicken on the right

egg cosy on the left, giant chicken on the right

It matched the blanket:

chicken 1

So what did I get sent through snail mail?  This:

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It’s an almost perfect replica of the wool version and she looks so happy!  I almost feel like I should write a thank you back, but I’ve been caught in one of those thank you loops before, and it’s not pretty.

So there you go.  If you don’t fancy the traditional thank you, you could always go for a chicken.  It will definitely raise a smile or two. :o)

Posted in crochet, Pog Life | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

A whole new level of mad cat lady identified

Posted on October 30, 2015 by thepogblog

Earlier this week, I was pulling out of my parking space at the station to go home and a 4×4 stopped and blocked the (single track) road.  I had a moment of grumpiness before I realised that the driver had got a box and towel from the boot and was standing over something black, furry and very still on the grass verge.  It was obviously a dead cat and she was obviously not coping with the job she had set out to do.

I jumped out my car, concerned it might be her cat, and nobody should have to pick up the body of a furball they love on their own.  It wasn’t hers, but she was very distressed and told me she wanted to take it to the vet to see if it had a chip so they could find the owner, but she couldn’t bring herself to pick it up.

Thinking of Charlie Cat, and how his disappearance would have been so much more understandable if someone had done the same for him / me, I took my gloves off and talked the cat through the fact that he was ok (I admit, I was stretching reality a little bit there) and I was just putting him in a nice cosy box to visit the vet one last time.  I put the box in the very kind lady’s car and we parted ways.

I went to Tesco.  Where I threw up in the car park.

Then I went to the pet shop for Norman’s special diet biscuits, where things got a little odd.  At the till, the people who worked there were talking about a dead fish.  It was obviously ok to discuss dead animals and I needed to tell someone about the poor cat, so I told them.  I think I must have come across as slightly deranged (I was a little bit shaky) as they all eyed the biscuits with suspicion and one of the girls very gently asked me, in that voice you reserve for people right on the edge, if I had the cat with me. I think at that moment they thought I had bought the biscuits for a dead cat I was planning on taking home.  When I explained that the biscuits were for a very alive Norman and the dead cat was at a vet with an entirely different person they actually breathed a sigh of relief.

I may have crossed a line I was unaware of from ‘mad cat lady with crochet habit’ to ‘mad cat lady with crochet habit and the potential to store – and feed – dead cats back at Pog Towers’.  I’m not sure how to address this one, other than to post another cat picture of a very healthy Norman’s ears taking it easy in his favourite place on top of a box, on top of my wardrobe.   :o)

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