In spite of the past extended weekend of depressing parliamentary goings on, the total lack of principle on behalf of the LibDems, I've just about managed to keep myself buoyant. A Tory by any other name is still a Tory no matter what colours they wore to deceive the electorate into casting a vote for them. No amount of adjusting / reforming the electoral system will compensate for the lack of principle and integrity so in evidence amongst politicians. The words uttered during the campaign all prove meaningless.
Clouds of gloom kept falling around us as we struggled to get on with life. We had a most enjoyable visit from my brother and his wife, from Saturday until Wednesday, accompanied by some enticing wining and dining experiences. The weather militated somewhat against venturing far afield, though I must admit that suited me fine. Visits out were to Brio's Italian Restaurant, Cafe Culture, the garden centre at Otley and the local nature reserve.
At home, the fermented grape juice enjoyed ranged through, Deutz Marlborough Cuvee Brut NV, Bergsig Gewurtztraminer 2009, Alma Andina Torrontes 2009, Ungsteiner Kobnert Spatlese Pinot Noir 2007, and our customary Champagne region fizz accompaniment to a viewing of 'High Society'.
**************
Although I had many areas of disagreement with the Labour government, not least of which were the illegal war in Iraq and Blair's neo-Thatcherite tendencies, I cannot fail to acknowledge the great number of social advances (at home) made during their spell in office and, Gordon Brown's commitment to combatting global poverty, as well as the way he set about dealing with the aftermath of the global capitalist crisis.
I felt rather nauseous as the newly crowned Cameron acknowledged that we had become a more open and compassionate society during the past decade; I remember far too well his tirades before and during the campaign, against the "broken society" which he attempted to lay at Brown's door. In fact most of the broken-ness is a long lingering result of the selfish asocial Thatcher years. My fear is that the Cameron - Clegg United Public Schoolboy Front are set to undo much of the good that has been acheived since 1997.
After more than a couple of decades outside of the Labour Party I have finally rejoined them!
- living and frequently struggling with moderate M.E. -
where (bad) health, faith, politics and the joys and troubles of daily life collide.
ME
Showing posts with label wine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wine. Show all posts
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Friday, December 11, 2009
Ringing The Changes
It was really good to receive a 'phone call from my physio, this morning, having heard nothing since August. The call confirmed my suspicion that she'd had a relapse, being a fellow M.E. sufferer, and consequently been out of circulation since August. Fortunately, she has now returned to work for a few hours each week, even though those few hours are already proving quite exhausting but, with a bit of careful management, she hopes to return to her normal hours in the new year. I'm now looking forward to the next call when she'll be arranging a visit to apply the magic needles (I'm talking acupuncture here) to yours truly. The treatment I've received, by this means, has proved most efficacious both in terms of pain control and re-energizing.
My second 'phone call of the day was quite unwelcome. Having given a second chance (disregarding their somewhat inflated prices) to 'Pieroth', the wine merchant whose reps visit one at home for a wine tasting, and placed an order for a case which we received in the past week, they decided to give us a call today to try and sell us some more.
The reason we'd previously given up on them was the high number of unwelcome canvassing phone calls, a reason which we had explained to them on numerous occasions. This time there will be no further chances, they can keep their product and stuff it where the sun don't shine. When will they ever learn?
My second 'phone call of the day was quite unwelcome. Having given a second chance (disregarding their somewhat inflated prices) to 'Pieroth', the wine merchant whose reps visit one at home for a wine tasting, and placed an order for a case which we received in the past week, they decided to give us a call today to try and sell us some more.
The reason we'd previously given up on them was the high number of unwelcome canvassing phone calls, a reason which we had explained to them on numerous occasions. This time there will be no further chances, they can keep their product and stuff it where the sun don't shine. When will they ever learn?
Thursday, September 03, 2009
The Best Laid Plans
Monday 31 August
Although it's the thought that counts, that very thought can militate against one; I suppose it's something to do with "the best laid plans ..." And did those thoughts and plans backfire, on my poor long-suffering beloved; not everyone can turn an 80-90 mile trip into a distance more akin to 200 miles, partly attributable to road maps being scattered over a few separate pages of an atlas - spatial sense is shown for the feminine virtue it truly is - and her desire to save me the stress of going via the M62, far from my favourite stretch of road.
Having travelled for best part of two hours, I suddenly became aware that we weren't passing through any of the urban villages (of Lancashire) that I'd anticipated; rural idylls (of both Yorkshire and Cumbria) were the order of the day but, having taken this pleasant alternative route we reached the M6 at a point from which our destination goal wasn't much less of a distance away than it had been at the outset of our journey. (As aforementioned, all of this was the result of Helen's best intention to avoid the much loathed M62 route). For the first several miles on the motorway it was difficult to exceed 25mph, the slowest part of the journey so far.
The one thing of which we were certain was that we now had to head down as far as junction 26 and the M58; so far so good. Just for confirmation we switched on the satnav - destination address already programmed in and, this is where the real fun began. We missed a turn at which our destination was a mere 5.5 miles away and, as the amazing technological device re-planned our route, within a matter of minutes it was a mere 12 miles away. Further down the route we passed a familiar landmark which we knew to be within a few minutes drive of our destination but, the satnav would have none of it! A further twenty-five minutes down the line the satnav continued its wild goose chase eventually telling us that we'd reached our suburban destination when reality demonstratively disclosed the fact that we were actually in the city centre, Liverpool 1 and not Liverpool 19. We'd already been forced to make a few U-turns, and other probably illicit moves, having been directed wrong way into one way streets etc. ... etc ...
Eventually, we arrived at the Innkeepers Lodge, moved in our cases, before venturing around to visit Kathleen, Helen's step-mum, which was a simple ten minutes walk. No navigational problems there but, exhaustion had set in for this bad traveller. The walk back to the hotel proved a little more perilous; through heavy lidded eyes each road, strreet, avenue appeared much the same and my intuitive compass had gone on strike. That's when the dreaded panic set in; chest tightening, breath taking, muscle-spasming painfulness kicked in and all I wanted was to be back home! To be honest, home is the only place and sensation that I really care for; the idea of a break away being relaxing is anathema.
Tuesday 01 September
Taking advantage of a generous breakfast, included in the room price, necessitated me getting up from my bed to walk at a rather earlier hour than has been my norm over recent days. Cereal, probiotic yoghurt, fruit juice, toast, pain au chocolat ... who could ask for anything more; well perhaps a doggy bag was in order to sustain us in that large interval between breakfast and evening meal. Having allowed twenty minutes for breakfast to settle, off we went to Kathleens once again for a little chat and the opportunity to take a few snapshots and a little bit of video-ing. We were back to the inn shortly after 11.30AM, in my case for a much needed rest and, for my beloved, a chance to catch up on some reading. There are definitely some exhibitions at Liverpool's Tate Gallery but, at this stage my reserves of both physical and emotional stamina are still a little battle scarred from yesterday's adventures.
Who knows what the rest of the day will bring but, I am looking forward to a meal at Mad Harrys this evening (technically it's the 'Madhari Tandoori Restaurant' but it's a name that becomes affectionate in my accidental(?) pronunciation)! Mad Harrys is directly opposite to the main door of our temporary habitation. Last night we ate at the Toby Carvery, adjacent to the lodge where we are staying, where I enjoyed a baked sea bass along with a generosity of self service potatoes and vegetables. I even decided a Yorkshire pudding would make an interesting additional accompaniment. Meantime, my beloved settled for the carvery turkey.
********
Once more the best laid plans were destined not to be; the rest of the day turned out to be a devastatingly tortuous non-event. Severe muscular and abdominal discomfort led to an all pervasive sense of nausea though, come late afternoon / early evening went out for a little fresh air in the hope of reviving or creating some semblance of an appetite. The effort was to little avail. No sooner had we seated ourselves in the Indian Restaurant than the sense of nausea returned with a vengeance; at least we were able to leave before we'd had a chance to place an order. My only desire was to be back home in Harrogate whilst simulataneously the thought of making the journey was far too much to cope with.
Most of the day and evening was spent in totally restless attempts to rest. Somehow my biological clock can't cope with dramatic changes such as arising from my bed before mid-to-late morning but, it had seemed necessary to partake of breakfast (at an unearthly early hour) as I felt the need to obtain something in return for the nightly room fee. I did manage a pint of Thwaites 'Bomber' in the afternoon, sweet upfront with a sustained dry bitterness lingering on the palate, a much more satisfying drink than the Long Shadow Chardonnay, of the previous evening, which turned out to be flavoursomely oak laden at the beginning but, became an unremittingly tedious monotony before the glass was half-finished.
Wednesday 2 September
After a night of intermittent sleep, I managed to pluck up the courage to take a shower. Whilst in no way considering myself disabled, it suddenly occurred to me that I had quite a high degree of dependence on the shower seat at home whereas here, no such luxury was afforded. So, short and sweet showerlette was in order and, I emerged marginally refreshed to venture across to the carvery for breakfast.
This evening we'll be ambling around to Kathleens for dinner; the trip to scouseland proves worthwhile if only for the opportunity to visit Helen's stepmum but I doubt that I could cope with a visit to the Tate or even a more local gallery. Even when one is feeling relatively better than had been the case for a few years, ventures away from the familiar homestead prove a testing ground too far.
*************
As I shuffled from chair to door, my wearily aching lower limbs decided that an occasional knee tendon spasm, and buckling from the knee, was an ideal way to restore my confidence. That's the point when we remembered that I'd not brought any of my walking sticks with me. My beloved popped down to the bar to see if, by any chance, there was a spare walking stick available and, managed to obtain an umbrella of appropriate length to proffer some support (an item of unclaimed lost property). This enabled me to get out for a little stroll in reasonably close proximity to the inn.
Late afternoon found us once more at Kathleens, to enjoy an evening meal.
Thursday 3 September
With the desire to get home by the quickest route possible, decided it was worth risking a trip along the M62, succesfully relying on the satnav to discern the best exit strategy for a comfortable journey home. My only panic attack occurred within one mile of our departure point, when abdominal and chest muscles once more militated against common-sense. Helen suggested we head back to the inn but, common-sense prevailed and, the desire to get home, in spite of immediate terrifying discomfort, was much greater than the need for instant relief! Once we hit the dreaded motorway, the symptoms were soon ameliorated.
The delight of reaching home, in a mere couple of hours, bore witness to the greatest transfiguration since Jesus met the two old geezers on the mount! How wonderful to smile freely once again.
Although it's the thought that counts, that very thought can militate against one; I suppose it's something to do with "the best laid plans ..." And did those thoughts and plans backfire, on my poor long-suffering beloved; not everyone can turn an 80-90 mile trip into a distance more akin to 200 miles, partly attributable to road maps being scattered over a few separate pages of an atlas - spatial sense is shown for the feminine virtue it truly is - and her desire to save me the stress of going via the M62, far from my favourite stretch of road.
Having travelled for best part of two hours, I suddenly became aware that we weren't passing through any of the urban villages (of Lancashire) that I'd anticipated; rural idylls (of both Yorkshire and Cumbria) were the order of the day but, having taken this pleasant alternative route we reached the M6 at a point from which our destination goal wasn't much less of a distance away than it had been at the outset of our journey. (As aforementioned, all of this was the result of Helen's best intention to avoid the much loathed M62 route). For the first several miles on the motorway it was difficult to exceed 25mph, the slowest part of the journey so far.
The one thing of which we were certain was that we now had to head down as far as junction 26 and the M58; so far so good. Just for confirmation we switched on the satnav - destination address already programmed in and, this is where the real fun began. We missed a turn at which our destination was a mere 5.5 miles away and, as the amazing technological device re-planned our route, within a matter of minutes it was a mere 12 miles away. Further down the route we passed a familiar landmark which we knew to be within a few minutes drive of our destination but, the satnav would have none of it! A further twenty-five minutes down the line the satnav continued its wild goose chase eventually telling us that we'd reached our suburban destination when reality demonstratively disclosed the fact that we were actually in the city centre, Liverpool 1 and not Liverpool 19. We'd already been forced to make a few U-turns, and other probably illicit moves, having been directed wrong way into one way streets etc. ... etc ...
Eventually, we arrived at the Innkeepers Lodge, moved in our cases, before venturing around to visit Kathleen, Helen's step-mum, which was a simple ten minutes walk. No navigational problems there but, exhaustion had set in for this bad traveller. The walk back to the hotel proved a little more perilous; through heavy lidded eyes each road, strreet, avenue appeared much the same and my intuitive compass had gone on strike. That's when the dreaded panic set in; chest tightening, breath taking, muscle-spasming painfulness kicked in and all I wanted was to be back home! To be honest, home is the only place and sensation that I really care for; the idea of a break away being relaxing is anathema.
Tuesday 01 September
Taking advantage of a generous breakfast, included in the room price, necessitated me getting up from my bed to walk at a rather earlier hour than has been my norm over recent days. Cereal, probiotic yoghurt, fruit juice, toast, pain au chocolat ... who could ask for anything more; well perhaps a doggy bag was in order to sustain us in that large interval between breakfast and evening meal. Having allowed twenty minutes for breakfast to settle, off we went to Kathleens once again for a little chat and the opportunity to take a few snapshots and a little bit of video-ing. We were back to the inn shortly after 11.30AM, in my case for a much needed rest and, for my beloved, a chance to catch up on some reading. There are definitely some exhibitions at Liverpool's Tate Gallery but, at this stage my reserves of both physical and emotional stamina are still a little battle scarred from yesterday's adventures.
Who knows what the rest of the day will bring but, I am looking forward to a meal at Mad Harrys this evening (technically it's the 'Madhari Tandoori Restaurant' but it's a name that becomes affectionate in my accidental(?) pronunciation)! Mad Harrys is directly opposite to the main door of our temporary habitation. Last night we ate at the Toby Carvery, adjacent to the lodge where we are staying, where I enjoyed a baked sea bass along with a generosity of self service potatoes and vegetables. I even decided a Yorkshire pudding would make an interesting additional accompaniment. Meantime, my beloved settled for the carvery turkey.
********
Once more the best laid plans were destined not to be; the rest of the day turned out to be a devastatingly tortuous non-event. Severe muscular and abdominal discomfort led to an all pervasive sense of nausea though, come late afternoon / early evening went out for a little fresh air in the hope of reviving or creating some semblance of an appetite. The effort was to little avail. No sooner had we seated ourselves in the Indian Restaurant than the sense of nausea returned with a vengeance; at least we were able to leave before we'd had a chance to place an order. My only desire was to be back home in Harrogate whilst simulataneously the thought of making the journey was far too much to cope with.
Most of the day and evening was spent in totally restless attempts to rest. Somehow my biological clock can't cope with dramatic changes such as arising from my bed before mid-to-late morning but, it had seemed necessary to partake of breakfast (at an unearthly early hour) as I felt the need to obtain something in return for the nightly room fee. I did manage a pint of Thwaites 'Bomber' in the afternoon, sweet upfront with a sustained dry bitterness lingering on the palate, a much more satisfying drink than the Long Shadow Chardonnay, of the previous evening, which turned out to be flavoursomely oak laden at the beginning but, became an unremittingly tedious monotony before the glass was half-finished.
Wednesday 2 September
After a night of intermittent sleep, I managed to pluck up the courage to take a shower. Whilst in no way considering myself disabled, it suddenly occurred to me that I had quite a high degree of dependence on the shower seat at home whereas here, no such luxury was afforded. So, short and sweet showerlette was in order and, I emerged marginally refreshed to venture across to the carvery for breakfast.
This evening we'll be ambling around to Kathleens for dinner; the trip to scouseland proves worthwhile if only for the opportunity to visit Helen's stepmum but I doubt that I could cope with a visit to the Tate or even a more local gallery. Even when one is feeling relatively better than had been the case for a few years, ventures away from the familiar homestead prove a testing ground too far.
*************
As I shuffled from chair to door, my wearily aching lower limbs decided that an occasional knee tendon spasm, and buckling from the knee, was an ideal way to restore my confidence. That's the point when we remembered that I'd not brought any of my walking sticks with me. My beloved popped down to the bar to see if, by any chance, there was a spare walking stick available and, managed to obtain an umbrella of appropriate length to proffer some support (an item of unclaimed lost property). This enabled me to get out for a little stroll in reasonably close proximity to the inn.
Late afternoon found us once more at Kathleens, to enjoy an evening meal.
Thursday 3 September
With the desire to get home by the quickest route possible, decided it was worth risking a trip along the M62, succesfully relying on the satnav to discern the best exit strategy for a comfortable journey home. My only panic attack occurred within one mile of our departure point, when abdominal and chest muscles once more militated against common-sense. Helen suggested we head back to the inn but, common-sense prevailed and, the desire to get home, in spite of immediate terrifying discomfort, was much greater than the need for instant relief! Once we hit the dreaded motorway, the symptoms were soon ameliorated.
The delight of reaching home, in a mere couple of hours, bore witness to the greatest transfiguration since Jesus met the two old geezers on the mount! How wonderful to smile freely once again.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Consuming Passion
Although I enjoy a (health-imposed) rather sedentary lifestyle, I am still quite frequently unable to find the time to blog about the many exciting and mundane events that I feel I should (or could) comment about. In the pursuit of sedentarism, I am required to imbibe the odd glass or two of fermented grape, many of which prove worthy of favourable comment but, the enjoyment of the tasting and swallowing distracts me from this eulogising; no comment or description can ever live up to the experience.
This vinous pursuit throws up some remarkable variations, even from the same grape variety grown and produced in the same region. I am currently involved in the consumption of a Hunter’s Sauvignon Blanc (Marlborough, 2005) which proves quite unlike any other Marlborough Sauvignon I have had the pleasure of sampling. Both nose and palate prove most pungently ‘gooseberry’ and, a sensational dryness tingles the inner lip as well as the palate. What both myself and my beloved are unable to sense is any of the ‘tropical fruit’ declared on the back label but, I certainly detect an underlying hint of black pepper, a quality more commonly detected in a red wine. A certain liveliness determines that I should hold-off the next bottle for at least another year, it still seems remarkably young for an antipodean 2005 vintage.
By now, I trust my loyal readers will understand how such time consuming pursuits correlate to the paucity of postings.
This vinous pursuit throws up some remarkable variations, even from the same grape variety grown and produced in the same region. I am currently involved in the consumption of a Hunter’s Sauvignon Blanc (Marlborough, 2005) which proves quite unlike any other Marlborough Sauvignon I have had the pleasure of sampling. Both nose and palate prove most pungently ‘gooseberry’ and, a sensational dryness tingles the inner lip as well as the palate. What both myself and my beloved are unable to sense is any of the ‘tropical fruit’ declared on the back label but, I certainly detect an underlying hint of black pepper, a quality more commonly detected in a red wine. A certain liveliness determines that I should hold-off the next bottle for at least another year, it still seems remarkably young for an antipodean 2005 vintage.
By now, I trust my loyal readers will understand how such time consuming pursuits correlate to the paucity of postings.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Malcolm's Travellers Tale
Once again, I've managed a weekend away and apart from a generalized fatigue and the usual aches I'm here to tell the tale!
24th March 2007
As we journey westwards, the day brightens and, once again I’m enraptured by the beauty on our doorstep as we traverse the dales and moorland. As we enter Lancashire, the roadside welcome sign is subtitled “Where Everyone Is Welcome”; I find myself wondering whether our return journey will witness a sign reading “Where No One Cares” as we re-enter God’s own county. The journey goes smoothly and, neither myself nor ma belle chauffeuse feel too exhausted by the effort.
Having signed in at the Travel Inn, my first impulse is to go and have a lie-down on the bed. After a brief rest, we look out of the window and see our friends Peter & Pamela have arrived at the nearby bar so, duty calls us to venture across and share a few glasses of vino before deciding on our evening meal. The conversation flows quite fluidly, after all, we’ve got a couple of years to catch up on since our previous meeting. That’s the beautiful thing about friendship, it’s almost as if the conversation continues from just the day before; an understanding of each others humour and situation makes things so much easier. Pamela and I are the experienced old crocks, Pamela having been a wheelchair user for many years now, although the image in my mind of her racing up fellsides, Peter and I breathlessly following, still seems fresh.
I’ve known the two P’s since university days and, Peter was best man when I married Helen seven brief years ago. Much as travelling disagrees with me, meeting up with old friends makes it most worthwhile. By the time we’ve had our meal, Pamela shows obvious signs of flagging so, we bid our adieus and, it’s not that much later when fatigue takes over for Helen and myself so, an early night is called for.
25th March 2007
To my surprise, we managed to make it down for breakfast in good time but, those old weary blues caught up with me by the time we’d ventured back to our room. A further lie down was called for and, this accounted for the rest of the morning (and early afternoon). By 2.00PM we were ready to head off to Peter & Pamela’s abode and, it wasn’t long before we ventured across to their wine cellar to select a bottle of bubbly. Conversation found its own direction and, we chatted about their Australian holiday as we looked at a few of the copious quantity of photos taken on that occasion as well as venturing down memory lane. For our meal we enjoyed one of Peter’s celebrated kipper and egg kedgerees accompanied by one of Tony Laithwaite’s Chilean Sauvignons. I declined the dessert, which the other three managed to demolish without my participation.
We arrived back at the hotel by 9.00PM, switched on the telly to watch what turned out to be a Jane Austen travesty, switched off the telly after about twenty minutes of this abhorrence and, decided it was time for an early night.
26th March 2007
Once more, this time slightly more of a struggle, made it down in time for breakfast then ventured back to the room where the need for rest was instantly apparent. I duly settled on the bed for forty winks but, when the staff came round to clean the room around 11.00AM I was sound asleep. Emerged from my slumbers at 11.30AM and we went out to sit and have a coffee on the benches outside of the bar whilst the necessary tasks were fulfilled by room service. Back to the room for a bit more rest and, I was just about alert by our friends arrived to direct us to their local, ‘The Hest Bank’. This proved a great opportunity to meet their friends, from Geriatrics Corner, much feted by both Peter and Pamela in their respective blogs. The most difficult decision for me to make, on this occasion, was that between ‘Black Sheep’, ‘Timothy Taylor’s Landlord’ or ‘Caledonian’. A couple of pints of ‘Black Sheep’ sufficed for me before we perused the menu. After an enjoyable meal, it was once more time to bid our farewells, an early night once more being a necessary part of our agenda.
24th March 2007
As we journey westwards, the day brightens and, once again I’m enraptured by the beauty on our doorstep as we traverse the dales and moorland. As we enter Lancashire, the roadside welcome sign is subtitled “Where Everyone Is Welcome”; I find myself wondering whether our return journey will witness a sign reading “Where No One Cares” as we re-enter God’s own county. The journey goes smoothly and, neither myself nor ma belle chauffeuse feel too exhausted by the effort.
Having signed in at the Travel Inn, my first impulse is to go and have a lie-down on the bed. After a brief rest, we look out of the window and see our friends Peter & Pamela have arrived at the nearby bar so, duty calls us to venture across and share a few glasses of vino before deciding on our evening meal. The conversation flows quite fluidly, after all, we’ve got a couple of years to catch up on since our previous meeting. That’s the beautiful thing about friendship, it’s almost as if the conversation continues from just the day before; an understanding of each others humour and situation makes things so much easier. Pamela and I are the experienced old crocks, Pamela having been a wheelchair user for many years now, although the image in my mind of her racing up fellsides, Peter and I breathlessly following, still seems fresh.
I’ve known the two P’s since university days and, Peter was best man when I married Helen seven brief years ago. Much as travelling disagrees with me, meeting up with old friends makes it most worthwhile. By the time we’ve had our meal, Pamela shows obvious signs of flagging so, we bid our adieus and, it’s not that much later when fatigue takes over for Helen and myself so, an early night is called for.
25th March 2007
To my surprise, we managed to make it down for breakfast in good time but, those old weary blues caught up with me by the time we’d ventured back to our room. A further lie down was called for and, this accounted for the rest of the morning (and early afternoon). By 2.00PM we were ready to head off to Peter & Pamela’s abode and, it wasn’t long before we ventured across to their wine cellar to select a bottle of bubbly. Conversation found its own direction and, we chatted about their Australian holiday as we looked at a few of the copious quantity of photos taken on that occasion as well as venturing down memory lane. For our meal we enjoyed one of Peter’s celebrated kipper and egg kedgerees accompanied by one of Tony Laithwaite’s Chilean Sauvignons. I declined the dessert, which the other three managed to demolish without my participation.
We arrived back at the hotel by 9.00PM, switched on the telly to watch what turned out to be a Jane Austen travesty, switched off the telly after about twenty minutes of this abhorrence and, decided it was time for an early night.
26th March 2007
Once more, this time slightly more of a struggle, made it down in time for breakfast then ventured back to the room where the need for rest was instantly apparent. I duly settled on the bed for forty winks but, when the staff came round to clean the room around 11.00AM I was sound asleep. Emerged from my slumbers at 11.30AM and we went out to sit and have a coffee on the benches outside of the bar whilst the necessary tasks were fulfilled by room service. Back to the room for a bit more rest and, I was just about alert by our friends arrived to direct us to their local, ‘The Hest Bank’. This proved a great opportunity to meet their friends, from Geriatrics Corner, much feted by both Peter and Pamela in their respective blogs. The most difficult decision for me to make, on this occasion, was that between ‘Black Sheep’, ‘Timothy Taylor’s Landlord’ or ‘Caledonian’. A couple of pints of ‘Black Sheep’ sufficed for me before we perused the menu. After an enjoyable meal, it was once more time to bid our farewells, an early night once more being a necessary part of our agenda.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Parting is such dry sorrow
Over the last couple of evenings, my beloved and I bade a lingering farewell to an old friend. It is with a degree of sorrow that this old friend has departed from these premises, never to brighten our glasses again. This companion, who has helped through many a shared imbibing, was Ferdinand Pieroth’s ‘Nussdorfer Herrenberg’, Pfalz, 2001. The grape variety, Muller-Thurgau, is frequently belittled as a mere ‘workhorse’ but, who wants a pedigree racehorse that all too swiftly passes its prime? Although fully earning its description as trocken, memory tells me that the 1998 vintage outshone it in the dryness stakes but, not in all round satisfaction. It’s always a pleasure to find a wine that is both easy drinking and, desirous and deserving of more sustained attention.
With a year or twos aging, the wine attained a remarkable smoothness, by no means monotone on the palate and, a flavour which defied all the clichéd categories into which I am able to sort sundry styles and varieties of grape. It seems strange to extol the virtues of a friend who I am incapable of describing but, fond memories will linger on. One of these days, we’ll be cracking open the first bottle from our 2005 case, an event which I look forward to with a degree of nervous anticipation.
Admittedly, I’ve tasted many a finer, more complex wine from
This is not posted in the hope of receiving any complimentary bottles but, should there be anyone desirous of making such an offer, it would be difficult to decline.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
A Little Restoration
After a few days, when levels of physical and emotional stamina had returned to their lowest level for several months, (see 'Where Have All The Muscles Gone' on Mal's Murmurings), the last couple of days have witnessed a slight upturn. It’s not that I’m exactly bubbling with energy but, at least I’ve not been entering into the state of zombified drift.
Yesterday, I managed a walk down to Open Church where I enjoyed my coffee and conversation amongst a group of at least ten acquaintances. I stayed there for 50 minutes, before a slightly more staid return walk home. This is definitely progress!!
This evening, having prepared and consumed an original spiced trout, peppers, cherry tomatoes and mushroom pasta topping, served with Sicilian wholewheat penne pasta, my beloved and I ventured out, all hand-in-handing like a pair of young lovers, for a brief brisk walk. We do so totally feel like young lovers, despite my general state of decrepitude!
We’re currently relaxing, in front of a hot widescreen cathode ray tube, whilst imbibing a most refreshing Hungarian Pinot Grigio (‘Campanula’ 2005) and, all’s well with the world!
Yesterday, I managed a walk down to Open Church where I enjoyed my coffee and conversation amongst a group of at least ten acquaintances. I stayed there for 50 minutes, before a slightly more staid return walk home. This is definitely progress!!
This evening, having prepared and consumed an original spiced trout, peppers, cherry tomatoes and mushroom pasta topping, served with Sicilian wholewheat penne pasta, my beloved and I ventured out, all hand-in-handing like a pair of young lovers, for a brief brisk walk. We do so totally feel like young lovers, despite my general state of decrepitude!
We’re currently relaxing, in front of a hot widescreen cathode ray tube, whilst imbibing a most refreshing Hungarian Pinot Grigio (‘Campanula’ 2005) and, all’s well with the world!
Monday, June 27, 2005
The Pleasure of Good Company
Amazing, the boost to one's morale that arises from the company of special friends. Had a good lie-in on Sunday morning, ma belle amoureuse reluctant to disturb me as she readied herself for chapel! Even after getting myself mobile, took things very easily. Helen collected our friends, Peter and Pamela, from the West Park at 1.30 pm and, it proved such a pleasure to be in their company.
We enjoyed a little Pignoletto Frizzante aperitif before lunch, one of my preparations that I've not had time to give a name to. [It was excellent anyway, that's what matters]. A bottle of Villa Maria Chardonnay, East Coast NZ, 2002 coped well with the barrage of flavours. For dessert, ma belle amoureuse presented us with her very special sticky toffee pudding.
After our friends departed, we spent a little time in the garden, myself reclining beside the pond - only to be accidentally mauled by Sapphire (a gorgeous Burmese Chinchilla X cat) who woke me with a start, and herself was duly startled, managing to leave two residual scratches perilously close to the groin region. Helen, who had been pottering about nearby, had been oblivious to Sapphire's presence in the garden until my sudden start!
Later evening, we became quite engrossed in an episode of Midsommer Murders that we had missed on first showing, before checking out the Glastonbury coverage on various BBC channels. Coverage has just returned to 'Basement Jaxx' who Heterocon seemed quite enthused by.
These last two days, our friends visit has brought me more relaxation than I've experienced for some time. Thanks to The Oxcliffe Fox.
We enjoyed a little Pignoletto Frizzante aperitif before lunch, one of my preparations that I've not had time to give a name to. [It was excellent anyway, that's what matters]. A bottle of Villa Maria Chardonnay, East Coast NZ, 2002 coped well with the barrage of flavours. For dessert, ma belle amoureuse presented us with her very special sticky toffee pudding.
After our friends departed, we spent a little time in the garden, myself reclining beside the pond - only to be accidentally mauled by Sapphire (a gorgeous Burmese Chinchilla X cat) who woke me with a start, and herself was duly startled, managing to leave two residual scratches perilously close to the groin region. Helen, who had been pottering about nearby, had been oblivious to Sapphire's presence in the garden until my sudden start!
Later evening, we became quite engrossed in an episode of Midsommer Murders that we had missed on first showing, before checking out the Glastonbury coverage on various BBC channels. Coverage has just returned to 'Basement Jaxx' who Heterocon seemed quite enthused by.
These last two days, our friends visit has brought me more relaxation than I've experienced for some time. Thanks to The Oxcliffe Fox.
Sunday, June 26, 2005
A Memorable Day
Saturday 25 June proved a memorable day; seeing our dear friends Peter & Pamela proves an amazing tonic. I'm not saying that it cures my miscellaneous aches and discomforts but, it does help one to bear the discomfort a bit more easily. Half an hour after their arrival in town they called around to visit and sup with us.
Peter joined me in the kitchen as I completed preparations for tomorrows lunch, as yet unchristened though I'm sure it will prove immensely satisfying. The four of us then partook of one of our favourite beverages, the exquisite 'Taittiinger', respected and appreciated by this gang of four.
Our guests had booked a table for us at a local Brasserie at the Cedar Court Hotel. The starters were all very satisfactory but, the main courses left quite a lot to be desired in the 'portion' department, a tad more than those godforsaken days of nouvelle cuisine. Despite the menu stating that main courses were served with potatoes, or salad, or green vegetables the haddock that Helen and myself had, (supposedly topped with a crispy welsh rarebit ... in actuality a pleasant coating of cheese sauce), arrived with a couple of leaves of Rocket and un petit peu of sliced tomatoes. When the waiter's attention was caught, he explained that if you wanted potatoes one had to specifically order it; something of a discrepancy with the message at the foot of the menu. We weren't asked whether we wanted salad, or potatoes, or green veg. The portions are a definite minus as far as I'm concerned but, they did arrive with a bowl of elongated, fully jacketed new potaoes reminiscent of dog poo. They tasted quite fine however.
The wine with this meal was a full-flavoured South African Chenin Blanc with subtle floral and lemon notes. Peter and myself were quite taken aback at it's sweetness on first approach, no doubt some of the sweetness was more marked following our dry Taittinger aperitif. Unfortunately my general stamina and discomfort levels required a fairly early return home, but, the evening was the longest time I have managed to be out anywhere for at least the past eighteen months! I have no qualms regarding the quality of the food at this establishment and, they also proferred an interesting wine list.
Later in the evening, Helen and I enjoyed coverage of Coldplay's set from Glastonbury. What can one say; electrifying, mesmerising ... sheer professional artistry, Chris Martin's vocals and stage presence were second to none that I have experienced over many years.
We look forward, once more, to the company of our bestest friends for Sunday afternoon lunch.
Peter joined me in the kitchen as I completed preparations for tomorrows lunch, as yet unchristened though I'm sure it will prove immensely satisfying. The four of us then partook of one of our favourite beverages, the exquisite 'Taittiinger', respected and appreciated by this gang of four.
Our guests had booked a table for us at a local Brasserie at the Cedar Court Hotel. The starters were all very satisfactory but, the main courses left quite a lot to be desired in the 'portion' department, a tad more than those godforsaken days of nouvelle cuisine. Despite the menu stating that main courses were served with potatoes, or salad, or green vegetables the haddock that Helen and myself had, (supposedly topped with a crispy welsh rarebit ... in actuality a pleasant coating of cheese sauce), arrived with a couple of leaves of Rocket and un petit peu of sliced tomatoes. When the waiter's attention was caught, he explained that if you wanted potatoes one had to specifically order it; something of a discrepancy with the message at the foot of the menu. We weren't asked whether we wanted salad, or potatoes, or green veg. The portions are a definite minus as far as I'm concerned but, they did arrive with a bowl of elongated, fully jacketed new potaoes reminiscent of dog poo. They tasted quite fine however.
The wine with this meal was a full-flavoured South African Chenin Blanc with subtle floral and lemon notes. Peter and myself were quite taken aback at it's sweetness on first approach, no doubt some of the sweetness was more marked following our dry Taittinger aperitif. Unfortunately my general stamina and discomfort levels required a fairly early return home, but, the evening was the longest time I have managed to be out anywhere for at least the past eighteen months! I have no qualms regarding the quality of the food at this establishment and, they also proferred an interesting wine list.
Later in the evening, Helen and I enjoyed coverage of Coldplay's set from Glastonbury. What can one say; electrifying, mesmerising ... sheer professional artistry, Chris Martin's vocals and stage presence were second to none that I have experienced over many years.
We look forward, once more, to the company of our bestest friends for Sunday afternoon lunch.
Friday, June 10, 2005
No Longer Wild but not quite Cultivated!
A generally quiet ( though clammy) day with little exertion, either physically or mentally required. If there had been any demands, of an exertion requiring nature, I doubt whether I could, or would have responded!
Despite the slow rate of progress on the pond's green-water clearing, it's inhabitants are thriving; from bloodworm (a wonderful food source for) seven goldfish ... Tag, Babe, Blaze, Blondie and the triplets ... and the many itinerant frogs, the reeds and marginal plants, and an abundance of assorted insects.
The nest box echoes to the twittering of some young bluetits, drawing the attention of the neighbourhood cats to their presence but, it's only a limited amount of interference (in terms of protective measures) that we can rightly offer.
This evening I proudly invented a new salmon and rice dish, for the sustenance of ma belle amoureuse et moi ... not for the wildlife (Well, in another sense, I think my wildlife days have passed!). A nicely chilled bottle of 'Chateau du Carpia', Bordeaux 2003, calls out for my attention so, I must bid the blog farewell for the present!
Despite the slow rate of progress on the pond's green-water clearing, it's inhabitants are thriving; from bloodworm (a wonderful food source for) seven goldfish ... Tag, Babe, Blaze, Blondie and the triplets ... and the many itinerant frogs, the reeds and marginal plants, and an abundance of assorted insects.
The nest box echoes to the twittering of some young bluetits, drawing the attention of the neighbourhood cats to their presence but, it's only a limited amount of interference (in terms of protective measures) that we can rightly offer.
This evening I proudly invented a new salmon and rice dish, for the sustenance of ma belle amoureuse et moi ... not for the wildlife (Well, in another sense, I think my wildlife days have passed!). A nicely chilled bottle of 'Chateau du Carpia', Bordeaux 2003, calls out for my attention so, I must bid the blog farewell for the present!
Thursday, May 26, 2005
A Prescription For Good Health
A rather good day for me, in spite of the displays of incompetence demonstrated by the Tax Office in this morning's mail. As that has already been recorded elsewhere, it's now time to give thanks for a better than average day in the life.
I actually managed two brief (slightly) brisk walks today, one around midday and the other bbw in the afternoon.
Continuing the treatment of the aquarium with good bacteria which is already having some effect as, to our surprise the nitrite level is already declining. Must admit I'm still somewhat puzzled as to how I account for the earlier hike in NO2 level. Suppose I'll just have to accept it as just another of life's little mysteries.
The green water problem with the pond is still subject to the closest scrutiny. This evening I gave the filters an even more thorough rinsing (in pond water of course) than usual; at least 7 bucketfuls of water were drawn from the pond to wash three filters. The water in the bottom of the filtration tank received a little dredging action as well.
After this action, I replenished the pond with several bucketfuls of treated tap water. My halo is well and truly polished up!
How do I account for the sudden lease of energy:
a) a wonderful bottle of Stafford Lodge Sauvignon Blanc, Marlborough 2003, shared with ma belle Helene on Tuesday evening certainly gave the feel-good factor. Nettle-y gooseberry with a subtle lychee note .... makes me wonder how I'm managing to keep the cellar door locked!
b) an enjoyable simple Chilean Chardonnay 2004 (an Asda purchase) shared with Graham ... and a glass saved for Helen on her return from Pizza Hut. [Wednesday's contribution].
c) I've not taken an anti-depressant today, just a minimum dose alternate days until I attempt (once more) to start the new medication next week.
d) The sun is shining.
I like to think the item at "a" is the cause and, that my doctor will prescribe a case for me on the NHS. The feel-good, enjoyment factor, could prove a great medicinal aid to my recovery.
I actually managed two brief (slightly) brisk walks today, one around midday and the other bbw in the afternoon.
Continuing the treatment of the aquarium with good bacteria which is already having some effect as, to our surprise the nitrite level is already declining. Must admit I'm still somewhat puzzled as to how I account for the earlier hike in NO2 level. Suppose I'll just have to accept it as just another of life's little mysteries.
The green water problem with the pond is still subject to the closest scrutiny. This evening I gave the filters an even more thorough rinsing (in pond water of course) than usual; at least 7 bucketfuls of water were drawn from the pond to wash three filters. The water in the bottom of the filtration tank received a little dredging action as well.
After this action, I replenished the pond with several bucketfuls of treated tap water. My halo is well and truly polished up!
How do I account for the sudden lease of energy:
a) a wonderful bottle of Stafford Lodge Sauvignon Blanc, Marlborough 2003, shared with ma belle Helene on Tuesday evening certainly gave the feel-good factor. Nettle-y gooseberry with a subtle lychee note .... makes me wonder how I'm managing to keep the cellar door locked!
b) an enjoyable simple Chilean Chardonnay 2004 (an Asda purchase) shared with Graham ... and a glass saved for Helen on her return from Pizza Hut. [Wednesday's contribution].
c) I've not taken an anti-depressant today, just a minimum dose alternate days until I attempt (once more) to start the new medication next week.
d) The sun is shining.
I like to think the item at "a" is the cause and, that my doctor will prescribe a case for me on the NHS. The feel-good, enjoyment factor, could prove a great medicinal aid to my recovery.
Sunday, May 08, 2005
A Day Of Surprises
Helen's birthday, meteorologically at least, was a day of surprises! Spasmodic outbreaks of sunshine were interrupted by sudden heavy rainfall, bombardments of quite sizeable hailstones and remarkably rapid transitions from bright to relatively dark and back again. The day passed quite smoothly, the lunchtime pasta accompanied by a rather appealing young Chilean Merlot ..Fundo los Naranjos 2004 (Central Valley). The Merlot even managed to retain it's composure in the aftermath of an extremely rich dessert!
Text and e-mail greetings added to Helen's enjoyment, alongside the cards and presents. We were joined for lunch by Graham and Ken; having just realized at around 12.45PM that we had texted Ken ref the time for lunch on his old phone (lost in Vietnam), the situation was soon remedied by a swift call to his new number!
Beth, Mahmood and Sina joined us during the afternoon and added to the present mountain. We are temporarily awash with books, DVD's and bottles of wine, alongside a wonderful Thai silk kimono which Helen looks forward to trying out.
In the evening us two young lovers (ma belle Helene et moi) settled down to some real highbrow culture in the guise of "Carry On Cleo" ... it's saving grace being the lack of subtlety or nuance ... a splendid relaxation!
Text and e-mail greetings added to Helen's enjoyment, alongside the cards and presents. We were joined for lunch by Graham and Ken; having just realized at around 12.45PM that we had texted Ken ref the time for lunch on his old phone (lost in Vietnam), the situation was soon remedied by a swift call to his new number!
Beth, Mahmood and Sina joined us during the afternoon and added to the present mountain. We are temporarily awash with books, DVD's and bottles of wine, alongside a wonderful Thai silk kimono which Helen looks forward to trying out.
In the evening us two young lovers (ma belle Helene et moi) settled down to some real highbrow culture in the guise of "Carry On Cleo" ... it's saving grace being the lack of subtlety or nuance ... a splendid relaxation!
Saturday, May 07, 2005
A Few Plebeian Pleasures
Last evening, a bottle of 'Taittinger' helped this couple of young lovers celebrate the local MP's re-election. We enjoyed watching and listening to "Kiss Me Kate" as we imbibed; somehow Cole Porter always seems a fitting accompaniment to a drop of bubbly. Oh how petit bourgeois I've become (at least that's how it must seem) but honestly, us plebeians can truly appreciate the finer things!
Tomorrow is my beloveds birthday; for lunch, when we'll be joined by Cathy's boyfriend and our friend Graham, we'll be having one of my simple pasta dishes followed by Helen's special Sticky Toffee Pudding. I will try to force myself to be on my best behaviour, despite being at a difficult age! Maybe when I get through my lengthy mid-life crisis it will no longer be a problem!
Tomorrow is my beloveds birthday; for lunch, when we'll be joined by Cathy's boyfriend and our friend Graham, we'll be having one of my simple pasta dishes followed by Helen's special Sticky Toffee Pudding. I will try to force myself to be on my best behaviour, despite being at a difficult age! Maybe when I get through my lengthy mid-life crisis it will no longer be a problem!
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