Singing Chicken

It was rainy and sleety most of Saturday so I spent hours making food.
First, butterfly cakes, but oh dear, look. I left them in a teeny bit too long.Never mind, only six have to be presentable, because they are a present - the second prize fro runners-up in my quiz.
I decided to give them eyes but they look more like bats!



For any people who don't know, you make fairy cakes (don't burn them), lop the tops off, spread butter cream on, cut the lopped tops through the middle and stick them in the cream to look like wings.



Next, Exmoor boiled fruit cake. This is the first prize for the quiz winner. I like this recipe because there is no laborious, messy creaming of the butter and sugar.

Quiz? Prizes? Well I often win the church quizzes so last month I thought I ought to give something back, so I set my own quiz and put prizes for first and second place. I will post the quiz sometime and you can all have a go.



After that, Smyrna sausages, except I shaped them into balls and called them Smyrna meatballs. They are made with lamb mince (actually they are tastier with beef), bread, garlic, ground cumin and salt and pepper.



I cooked them in a Moroccan tomato sauce, plucked from Rick Stein's mediterranean cookbook. He has Moroccan meatballs too but I fancied the Smyrna ones from my little Greek cookbook because they had more things in them.

I don't like posting long posts if I feel I can help it. This continues on another day.

I sometimes wonder what comedians will be allowed to poke fun at in a few years when everything will have a label ending in -ist and they won't be allowed to make fun of those things. Well some were unacceptable in the first place so good riddance. Some of the 'comedy' that used to be commonplace is unthinkable now - the derogatory treatment of people of different creeds and colours and Benny Hill's treatment of women (sorry if you liked it but I didn't), for example, and there's the old Irish thing. When I hear comedians making jokes about minorities, such as gays, I find myself wondering if there are any in the audience, and how they feel about it. I am not one, but I'm surprised it's still allowed. You just don't know what sensitivities people have sometimes until you put your foot right in it.



A comedian just doesn't know who's out there so he's bound to offend a good few of his audience. I daresay doesn't care, or he wouldn't be there, but nice people do care. A lot, and they suffer too, not just their victim, because they feel so embarrassed. Is it OK for somebody making fun just to say it was all in fun? To put on his 'lol' icon face


and it'll all be acceptable?

Is it now non-PC to laugh at fat people, because obesity is always in our news and is sometimes caused by a gene so not people's fault? And therefore thin people? What's left? The tall and the small? All my life I have had the "Stand up when you're talking to me. Oh, sorry, you are standing up" sort of stuff, not by people saying it to a dark roomful, but to my face. I can't wait to be able to tell them it's tasteless and unacceptable as well as unoriginal.



But I love comedy so I then I ask myself - what can we laugh at? Will comedy die out as we get more PC? What do I find funny anyway? It isn't people's failings. It isn't sit-coms either (except my old favourite Father Ted). It's things like Blackadder and Fawlty Towers I like, and Ben Elton (where has he gone?), Harry Enfield, Fry and Laurie, Bottom, the outrageous Frankie Boyle, Andy Parsons, Dara O'Brian, Hugh Dennis, Mock the Week etc. So is what they do OK? They do make fun of people all the time, but not people who are at a disadvantage, unless such person does nothing to help himself, or brings it on himself, and stupid people, and people lower in the pecking order,like Baldrick and Manuel, but is that fair? People can't help being a bit less clever or a bit weaker. They exaggerate people's characteristics from the norm to the point that they are ridiculous and that's what


makes it OK to laugh. I suppose you don't get such extreme characters in real life so you aren't really laughing at a real person. The turn of phrase can be brilliant; the insults; sometimes people are just such great mimics; some think up the most hilarious ridiculous imaginary situations when they ex-temporise. So OK, I'll keep laughing at those things. I won't feeling guilty about it.

Well at least it keeps the boss happy and might stop him running round our rooms every other day asking us what we've nearly completed and what we can send out bills for, but I have now got mre work than I can comfortably cope with. It's boss' own fault he gets short of the readies because he pretends to be kind and caring to very old dears by not billing them, but really he knows full well that he will get paid when they say their final goodbye. When new clients who are rich walk through the door he gets excited thinking that in decades to come we'll have a slice of that dosh (and that of their future generations if we play our cards right!) when they finally pop off. The chickens are at last coming home to their final roost and I have a boxful of stuff from 1 and 2 weeks ago that I haven't even looked at yet.



I can't speak for this whole country but there have been quite a lot of deaths lately within a, say, 30 mile radius of this little spot. Usually that includes a house sale eventually and sometimes the silly old beggars have lost their deeds too, which can be a real problem, depending on things, especially when they have departed left warring relatives, but it's all grist to the mill. I'd complain if I didn't have a job. (Death is certainly not all I do but probably amounts to slightly over half.)



I wish that on blogs you could have little smiley icons to show you are being funny/nice etc because I don't really rub my hands - like I believe my boss really does - when the winter is hard and he sees the snow ploughs on the roads. Although I do treat decay and death more lightly since doing more elderly client work and probate, and joke more about popping clogs and daisy pushing etc I would be mortified if I thought I was upsetting somebody. I could do with a guilty, apologetic, naughty, smiley-faced all-in-one for these times. Perhaps not too smiley. More biting-lip sort of face. Remember in comics people would have a wiggly line for a mouth? Something like that.

I ought to have waited before I did the palm oil post but I hadn't realised there was going to be a Panorama programme on it. It seems that the poor orang utans are being ousted from their homes to make way for palm trees and that peat bogs are being illegally planted with the things. When they are harvested, it looked as if the trees got cut down and not replaced. I have to admit I wanted to kill two birds with one stone last night so I was practising violin whilst trying to watch the programme and am therefore a bit lacking in the facts.
Anyway...if they can grow palms on peat bogs, can't we grow them here? I don't mean on peat bogs but we have plenty wet ground that clearly suits them. And I don't mean for putting in oatcakes either. How warm does it have to be? Lots of warmer climate crops have strated being grown in the UK.
Sainsbury's say they have sourced sustainable palm oil. Good on them because apprently it's very difficult to do. Oh heck, now I'm going to get S commenting on the blog. Hello, S!



So, sorry, two consecutive blogs on the same subject. This won't do. Quickie on another subject? Lettuces. Iceberg lettuces are getting lighter and I think it's because they are being force-fed for a quicker harvest. They might look the same size but there are far fewer leaves than there used to be. If you cut through one it's never of that tightly packed construction any more, or so I have noticed. There are great airy gaps between the layers so you use a lot more of it at any one time. See what I mean? Hpmh.

Well for once the news was relevant to real people. There was a load of stuff about money and politics and all that usual blah today but there's this new thing about bullying. There's also the snatching of land by big companies and the exploitation of palm trees for our biscuits; there's children's writing competitions, anorexia, OFD's (from weeks ago) - all stuff that is about real things, and on which I plan posts or bits of posts and that's not to mention the award ceremonies which I'll choose today as it's highly relevant.
Foody has had an award! A local BAFTA you might say. It was awarded last night at the cast party to me, jointly with my 'adversary', for best fight on stage. (No, that's not us and we certainly weren't wearing costumes like those! )



YESSS!!!! Above is a picture of the prize. We did get one each.



And since there has been lots of talk of cheese biscuits lately, let's deal with the palm oil. I have been noticing for years that this palm oil has been creeping in and I assumed it was because it was healthier than any of the fats or fat substitutes that we would traditionally put in our bics, because why otherwise would we go across the world to get it? I think I read lately that it isn't so healthy, but worse than that, the companies producing it are just muscling in and exploiting the areas where the palms grow, with no regard for the people or the wildlife. I don't even want my biscuits to be made with palm oil. We have enough resources here, surely, to make the fat (or substitute) content in our biscuits. And something like oatcakes, well, traditionally they are made with lard. I don't want some namby pamby palm oil in them!!! Oh, fie! Grrrrr to palm oil!!!! I know I ought to write to the companies concerned and boycott the products.

It all went very well on the whole (oh, apart from the theatre fire alarm going off by mistake for a few seconds on the last night!) and it was just such fun. At rehearsals they can tell you off and tell you off and stop and start but once you're on, you're on and if you make a mistake - deliberate (hee hee) or otherwise - there's nothing they can do about it until you're off. 'They', who are unrelated but share the same surname, being Mrs. Grumpy and Mr. Grumpy the director and the musical director, who are NEVER happy. Ha ha. And if you did it on the last night, then ha ha double ha! Rehearsals seem to drag on and on but when you have such fun just being up there and doing it, with such a fun lot of people, it all seems worthwhile. It's time to 'climb down' now, which is always hard.

Ate far too much cake and biscuits backstage but I'm no heavier than I was when I said I wanted to lose 7lbs (or half a stone, Uncle B). MUST start now. I made no effort at all after saying I was going to. However, tonight is the cast party so it'll be after that. Above is a photo of the cheese shortbread I'm taking along. I made more yesterday because I thought maybe I didn't have enough.

Have been out on my lovely little pony for the first Sunday ride in ages - well, since last Sunday (I forgot), in the snow and sun. It keeps snowing overnight and leaving a 4 or 5 inch carpet. There has been no wind, so no drifts, and it sits along all the twigs and leaves looking beautiful, then the sun comes out and melts it from the lane so everyone is happy.

I haven't had a proper meal since Sunday and won't get one until Monday. That's showbiz, you see. Every night at the theatre straight from work for either a rehearsal or the real thing. No time to eat much except a sandwich or something at my desk or in the car. We opened last night and it went fairly well. In the interval we have tea and biscuits but I don't want any more sweet biscuits. I am craving for savoury things, and particularly hot savoury things. Roast chicken (aaaaarghhhh!!! How could a singing chicken eat another chicken???!!!), pizza, lasagne, steak pie, curry, beef wellington, beef Californian, shepherd's pie, fish pie, sausage rolls, cheese on toast, peanut butter on toast .....ohhhhh...etc etc etc.



In the early afternoon I ate my little tuna salad that was to be my tea because I couldn't get out at all at lunchtime because I couldn't shut blabbermouth client up.



She was talking at her partner and telling him what he wanted to put in his will and that he should give her part of his farm now and I was thinking "Oh heck, how can he live with that woman and her mouth? They're bound to split up soon so no,no, don't give her part of your farm!" A conflict of interest situation if ever there was one. I WILL see them separately before they make wills.
So I'll have to have biscuits for tea again. Ah, "life upon the wicked stage ain't



ever what a girl supposes!" (No, we're not actually doing Showboat)

Get it?
Blackcap my foot!
Blackcap: size of a robin or thereabouts, no eye stripe, solid brown head, beak bigger than wren, plain buff breast, no stripes, no speckles.... I could go on.

For the benefit of Uncle B and those who blindly follow him, these pictures are of CHEESE BISCUITS, OK? In case you think they are swiss rolls or something.

By popular demand,

Sesame Cheese Biscuits
4 oz butter
4 oz plain flour
4 oz strong cheddar, grated
1 egg, separated
2 tbsps sesame seeds
1 tsp curry powder
1 tsp paprika ( or cayenne pepper for extra fire)

Rub the butter into the flour. Stir in the cheese. Mix in lightly beaten egg yolk and form a dough. Refridgerate for 3o minutes.
Roll fairly thinly onto floured surface and cut in to small rounds of about 2 inchh diameter. Brush with lightly beaten egg white and sprinkle on the mixed seeds and spices. Bake at 190C/375F/Gas mark 5 for about 10 minutes or until golden brown.



Cheese Shortbread
9 oz plain flour
6 oz butter
6 oz strong cheddar

Rub the butter into the flour. When it looks like breadcrumbs, stir inthe cheese and start to knead until it becomes like a dough. It does take quite a time but works eventually. Roll to about 1 cm thick. Cut into 2 inch rounds. OR you could roll the whole dough into a cylinder shape and slice it into rounds. Prick all over with a fork. Bake at 160C/325F/Gas mark 3 for 20 - 25 minutes.

Woke up yesterday to another thin covering of snow but it doesn't seem to bother the birds. The jackdaws have been crazy lately, squawking and flying around in little groups of between 3 and 6. I usually assume they are bothered about the cat because jackdaw squawking is almost continuous above our garden. Wherever he is, they gather in trees and follow him. I've seen them dive at him and sometimes he has 'V' shaped pieces out of his head fur. This recent noisy activity looks to me like early nest selection. They were squabbling over the chimney pot on Sunday.
I saw some sparrows today inspecting crevices in a wall.



A wren - or so I thought- flew across the road in front of the car the other day, very low and almost on the ground. As it reached the vertical verge it seemed to run up it and I thought that maybe it was a mouse and not a bird. Then I remembered that poem about a wren. It goes "a tiny, inch-long, feathered mouse" and has the words "bird or mouse?" in it. I googled for ages but didn't find it so if anyone does know it I would love to read it.
Well I could google for a wren photo but why when I have my own? Apologies for putting it in again so soon, but I have slightly edited it this time so it's a bit different. Tried to edit it more and crop it but it wouldn't publish on blogger.



I forgot to say I saw my first snowdrops a week ago Sunday. Snowdrops I can't grow. I have tried wet ones from other people's gardens and from garden centres but they just refuse to come up. I have just bought two pots and had a bit of advice from the man at the stall so here's hoping. If anyone has any tips of their own please let me know.
I must welcome my new follower, Ann. She has a B&B, see, so if anyone is going to Ayr...
Uncle B asked about my bulbs. I DID get some late bare ones in a garden centre in December, planted them and they are now peeping through.

In May 2007 I fell out with my oldest friend. I don't like even to admit to it because I am not the falling out type. Rather, she dumped me. We had a weekend staying at her house, then afterwards she rang me to tell me all the things which I supposedly did wrong over the weekend and then we didn't speak for over 2 and a half years. In the interim we sent brief emails but I was aware it was always her turn to email. I replied to hers within days but she took months to answer mine. I was doing all the running. Christmas 2009, I thought I would have one last go so I wrote her a nice letter and decided that if this one brought no response then I would have to try to forget her but always have it on my conscience that at my age, I had fallen out with someone, just like children do.



It WAS her fault. She was dragging up things completely out of context and when I tried to explain each one she just wouldn't let me. Her impression was her impression and nothing was going to change it. She said I hadn't helped her at all in the kitchen etc, but I had! I also remember asking her to give me the basket of washng and the pegs to hang things up and getting a curt "no thanks". I hadn't liked the dog but she knew I didn't and wouldn't like it before I ever arrived and I was not nasty to the dog; I just avoided it when I could and said "No" and "Down" quite a lot. Said I was rude to the children. It was banter and they were loving it! Said I was nasty to my hubby. He says there was nothing nasty, or even unusual, about anything I did or said. (Maybe I'm just always horrible to thim then!) I was having fun but she just wasn't in fun mode. She quoted me bits of things she had overheard me say but she hadn't heard the whole, and if she had, the things would have been innocuous or funny. Said I was aloof and uncommunicative. I was just quietly taking in my very pleasant surroundings but at the same time was scared of her snappy little one-word answers and snubs whuch just baffled me! I remember asking her on her own "Are you alright?" and getting a "Yep" back.
We had been friends for about 100 years and she knew me better than almost anyone else. She knows my humour; she knows me and what I'm like and who I am, so this misconstruing everything I said all came from her.
There were 13 things on her list before she finally responded to my tearful requests to her to stop throwing these misjudgments at me.
Well, after she got my letter, just before Christmas, she rang. What prompted her was a passing but well-planned allusion in my letter to a great fun weekend that we had all had here in 2006. We had fun then; we can have it again. She wants to meet on the first Saturday in March 'to see how it goes'. Hmph. So I - IIII?? am on trial.

I always meant to put this saga on the blog because I thought the friendship was over and she would never find it. Now we seem to be back on, but I don't want to not record such a momentous thing, so if she ever sees this, well it goes no way at all to show how I have been feeling but it all wants to come out. I don't think I would ever have got over it.



Anyway, when she came on the phone she did make a small passing admission that the blame lay entirely with her, but a "sorry" would have been nice. However, I do not want to have grudges and therefore I have "taken her back" and we are going to meet in March, but I will for ever be on my guard and if anything like this ever happens again it might well be goodbye time from me to her. I couldn't go through that a second time. Once bitten, twice shy. I won't be twice bitten. It took months to stop feeling upset about it and even over the 2 and a half years I had not got over it. I think I thought about it all every day, cheeks firing up at the thought of the very unjustness of it all.
I think I'll delete this after a while just in case, but this is a real case in point as to why this blog is kept away from the knowledge of my "terrestrial" friends. (Oops. That sounds as if my online pals all have antennae, are coloured green and speak in little croaky voices.) I can't have S looking to see what I'm saying about her! And if she saw the stuff I have said about other things dear to her heart....!
It's her birthday today so that's probably why this has come out today.
So.... I lost her (for a while) but I have found new pals in the little blogging world. I have seven followers and a lot of others beside who I know are interested and drop in whenever they like, so thank you, my pals. Apologies for the length.

That sums up Saturday morning. Cast party is next Sunday but the only chance to make anything for it would be next Sunday afternoon, and after a week of treading I will want to either crash out or go riding so I put on my pinnie on Saturday morning and made something in advance, which I could freeze. (Why are they called pinnies? Is it because you used to pin them onto your clothes, or is the word referring to a pinafore?) It was cheese shortbread, but I forgot to photograph it. Will do so on Sunday after it has defrosted. I would have made more of those sesame cheese bics but we have a lad with an egg allergy, and shortbread has no egg in it.



After that I made a pork, bacon and cider casserole for Sunday's lunch so I only had to put it on low to be ready for when I came in from church then I could get out riding sooner (because - Hooray!- We had no Sunday afternoon rehearsal. You get to the stage when you're sick of rehearsing and just want to do the thing).
Then I made pancake batter because Saturday was Shrove Saturday. Well, I'm not in on Tuesday or any other night. Saturday was the only night all week that I'm in.



After my ride I made a smoked haddock and cheese filling for the pancakes. It was sooo tasty!



The pudding pancakes were with jam because they have to be. We had this plum and mulled wine jam for Christmas and it's soooo good and the mulled wine is very much in evidence.

I have NO pictures of my own of any of it so I'll see what I can find on the web. Sorree!

Sorry, but I haven't had any pictures taken of me riding since we got a digital camera!

I went for a rare ride yesterday. It's weeks since I had the chance. It was still, no movement in the trees, so a good day for the tops? No. They were burning gorse. The windmills? - ideal. Oh no. I got up there and they were going round. I might have tried, but the lane was lined with big 4x4's because there was a fox shoot on. (Whether you agree or disagree with hunting, everyone has to admit the ban isriddled with anomalies like this)What? I thought they would be all indoors watching the football, or is it not today? All the vehicles just freaked the poor pony out so windmills were too spooky for her in that mood. We carried on along the lane. A man with a gun popped his head up from below the road - twit- and his dogs ran at us, so she bolted. After that I was walking while she circled round and round. Got on again but three ponies in their field got her all excited so I got off to walk her past. She wanted to trot in circles so it was all very tiring on the arm. Once past them, I tried long-reining from the side. That worked well but I bet it would be frowned upon and would make for lop-sided progress. Got on again but off again when four horses in a field charged downhill and then forward and back, crashing into their feed buckets and making a frightening din. Other peoples' horses and ponies are the worst hazard, after motorbikes and cars, when you ride on roads. Got back on but then some people innocently sipping soup with their car doors open were a bit frightening but we stayed together. Sometimes it's just a relief simply to get back to the field in two pieces.
We moved the ponies to a new field to give the usual one a rest.I have less far to go now in the mornings, which are getting much lighter.



Exmoors have no white on them, except when they get a bit elderly.

As for today's ride, quieter at first. She kept tryng to turn round and go back home, probbably because of yesterday's excitement. Some windmills were still, some moving. We did our little loop and it was very nice. A few snowflakes fell. On the way back, I tried ot get a stupid driver to slow down as he approached and he just wouldn't. He actually accelerated past and the poor pony leapt. All I could do was wave my two fingers at his back wondscreen. If I had shaken my fist he might have thought I was only waving. I had no time to read the numberplate. So if you see a green Morris Minor, please slash its tyres.

No time to proof-read. Sorry about mistakes. Off to rehearse.

I work at home most Thursdays. This last one was special because I had my first local evening walk. As soon as it was 5pm I downed tools and went out. I tried that path which was in a snow picture. Uncle B said the sign only said "Public footpath" when he clicked to enlarge, but it doesn't, you know. It only shows a little man walking.



Anyway, approaching it I saw two big mistle thrushes, or storm cocks, as they are sometimes called, because they sing in bad weather as well as good. More upright, greyer and with rounder spots that song thrushes, they like open areas with sparse trees. Their songs are the easiest way of distinguishing the two.



Last year was the first year I ever heard or saw a song thrush in this village.

Over the fields, into a dip and I saw a flock of starlings,



a flock of fieldfares (a fanfare of fieldfares is how Lindsay at Rural Villager referred to them) and what I am sure were badger prints. It was a good time to go. The frost had made all the marshy and muddy parts quite firm so it was easier walking than it might have been.

Up onto the tops and down to a stream, then a view of "my" lake, which was half frozen. I came at it from different angle from usual. I sat in the grass for too long really. It was getting too dark for photos, but I'll take one another time. Up onto the tops again and through the scratchy, bouncy heather and bilberry. It was getting darker but way across the main valley were scattered house lights and bronze hills against a bright blue sky. Past the wheatears' wall (they'll be back net month, all being well!) and onto the lane in the dark. The telegraph poles stood out against the sky, and over the cattle grid more distant, scattered lights and down home. This was the first evening foray of many.

"More geese than swans now live; more fools than wise" is how this lovely madrigal by Orlando Gibbons finishes. (That's a little less than half of it you have there.) But how true! Hah! The more time I spend listening to stupid, angry people mouthing off, the more true those words are!



Did I mention the silver swan automaton at the Bowes Museum? They wind it up at 2pm every day and it goes through its motions, which last for several minutes.



It didn't sing but it played a tune (or did it play a tune? Forgotten! Oh, I'm sure it did), bent its neck a few times and caught little silver fish. There are the fish on their rods of spiral-fluted crystal. When the rods move forward and back they give a twisting impression of rippling water.



There it is catching the fish!
This treasured item is unique and absolutely priceless and I felt privileged to see it.

Kath at Railway Cottage inspired this post when she posted recently about swans. I'm pretty sure it'll also appeal to Uncle B, who likes music, sheet music and old things.

Still rather bloggy blocky but I made some sesame cheese biscuits at the weekend so here's a piccy. The ones with dark powder on are spicy ones (curry powder and paprika). The others are plain cheese, but very cheesy and tasty. Yes, I know. Diet. But I had a buffet to go to and I couldn't just not make anything and of course I had to eat loads of food too. 2 steps forward, 1 and a half back at the moment. Well that still means one half forward.

Hardly stopped at the weekend. Baked, visited, rehearsed, walked, ate, I have a lot more to at work just now. There is some advantage - you don't waste time on rubbish.

Do you remember when I mentioned my Jordans vouchers lately, and a nice lady called Rachel offered me further compensation if I was still unhappy? Well I emailed Rachel saying really I was just being silly and trying to be funny to my blogging pals, but really I was quite satisfied with the vouchers. Well Rachel has emailed me back, concerned that I am still unhappy and offering to post me some cereal so all my blogging pals will know how good Jordans have been. Now is that bending over backwards or what? I have said to Rachel that really there is no need to send me cereal; I am quite happy, but I will do a blog post anyway about how good Jordans cereals are and how helpful Rachel - and everybody at Jordans really - have been. So here is my essay on Jordans Crunchy. I should have asked them to include me in any TV advertising campaigns they ever do but I forgot to.



So....I have Jordans nearly every morning. By this I mean their Crunchy Oats. I can't claim to have tried any other types in the range. It used to be "Jordans Original Crunchy", then it was "Jordan's Crunchy" and now it is "Crunchy Oats". I usually have the raisin and almond variety (top picture) but lately I diidn't see that one in the shop so chose the one with coconut, pineapple, hazelnuts, dates and papaya (picture below).



It's very nice too but I think I prefer my usual one. I feel a lot of different fruits in the morning is quite a lot for a non-morning person to cope with.

You get a mixture of large clusters - big, crunchy munchy ones -and smaller bits too. I like the big ones. For one thing they make it easier to eat with the fingers.

The texture is quite important to me. A good crunch is good, but definitely not too hard a crunch. It's a great taste too. Not at all too sweet but just enough sweetness. It certainly isn't stingy on fruit and nuts either, as some other brands are.

I don't have Jordans with milk because I prefer all cereal without it. I pour it into a ramekin and just eat it with my claws. It makes a pleasant "tinke tinkle" sound. If I'm in a hurry I just pour some into my hand and eat it as I run around getting ready. I sometimes take a little handful during the evening when I'm passing the storage box. Sometimes I'll take it in the car with me if I really am running late. On those snowy days when we were walking miles to the car I ate it out of a little bag in my pocket as I walked along. When I go on my local evening forays in the summer I have often had a little bag of it my pocket. You see how versatile Jordans is, especially when you leave milk out of it.

I have been known to sit up reading in bed with a little ramekin of Jordans. I get told off about all the little scratchy, crunchy bits in the sheets though.



When I go to B&B's or stay with people who put Jordans out at breakfast, often there is yoghurt and fruit there too. It's lovely with a dollop of Greek Yoghurt and/or some apricots, prunes or bilberries.

Jordans is attractive to look at. How do they get all the almond slices so even? Machines, I know. I like when I can see the little grooves in the edges. It brings the production side alive. You can picture the people in the factory who sit and operate the machines.



And look, they do porridge too,



and organic muesli.



There seems to have been a special one brought out for Christmas. They also do "Frusli" which is a muesli with fruit. I had no idea about all these!




I wish I hadn't thrown the packet away because it said something on it about conservation grade oats. If only I had read what that meant but it's probably the way they are grown and harvested, with as much regard as possible to the creatures which make their home in the oat crop, so that has to be good. Now I like that. I think they used to have Bill Oddie on the packets. Did they, or was that some other company. Well that is certainly an endorsement because Bill cares about the creatures too and he wouldn't want to associate with any production which was other than sensitive to those other forms of life.

Well I hope I have convinced anyone who reads this to go out and buy lots of packets of Jordans and to spread the word!