Monday, April 04, 2011

Time for tea? Get it right! (As posted on Chris Evans' blog on Monday 4th April 2011)

Dear Chris

Firstly: Happy Birthday for Friday!

Secondly, I wondered if we could start a (slightly tongue in cheek) campaign across the nation please?

The thing is this:

In no other Country do they get the names of meals confused.

In Germany for instance, lunch is Mittagessen, evening meal Abendessen. France, lunch is Dejeuner, Evening meal, Diner. etc.....

But in England we have great confusion.

Surely luncheon or lunch has always been known the meal that comes in the middle of the day? This means that the evening meal must be dinner. Supper is something before bed, a light snack and tea is an afternoon meal, eaten around 4 p.m. with sandwiches cakes and scones etc?

But no!

We are so complicated as a nation...

Instead we call lunch dinner, dinner tea, supper at some time during the evening. We do call dinner dinner, that is "dinner in the evening" if you are going out to dinner or having a dinner party. Ladies who lunch don't do "ladies who dinner". If you go out for afternoon tea you would certainly be eating tea and scones. Not to be confused with the tea that people eat for their evening meal.

Of course if you are really in the know, there is High Tea too, which is probably what many would call tea, dinner, evening meal etc.

FOR GOODNESS SAKE!!!!

Can we please sort this out Chris? As a man who can talk to the nation I am asking if you would please talk some sense into the nation:

Lunch when it's light
Dinner when it's dark
Tea at teatime: 4 p.m.
Supper: Shortly before bed.

Thank you!

Sally Lomax

Friday, April 01, 2011

The Alternative Bear Hunt and Shrugby.

It started off with mayhem.

ESOS (who is in the 6th form and wears a suit for school) had given me his trousers to wash the night before. Suit trousers. Non washable. Took a chance and put them in the washing machine as the mud wouldn't come out any other way before the next morning. 7.00 a.m. "Mum, where are my trousers?" "Oh.......... bad words bad words...........more bad words.............they are still in the washing machine......" Went to see Hubby. Have you got a suit that ESOS can use for school today?" Hubby found a suit which thankfully fitted. Made ESOS PROMISE that he would not play shrugby* in Hubby's suit.

Meanwhile Hubby went to get out the bread from the bread maker. For the first time in many years it was flat. Hubby was about to blame me, me having put the bread on the night before........... then we realised that the breadmaker had in fact died a sad death.... Phew. I was off the hook.

Then, Hubby, eldest four children and dressing up trunk piled into the Fiat Punto at 7.30 a.m. to go to Gloucester. ED is in a play this week and needed dressing up trunk as a prop. They must have been crowded in that little car, and of course it left me with just the six to deal with.

My saint of a help arrived at 8.30 a.m. then burst out of the front door at twenty to nine with eldest foster child (EFC). But not before an unwelcome encounter with the potty and two year old foster child...

Went back through the front door. Collected sandwiches, fruit and drink to go with the crisps that had been put into the lunch box. Ran her across the road to the primary school. Kissed her goodbye and ran back. Jumped into the car with Tinkerbell Mushroom (youngest daughter) and Pre School FC. (Foster child.) Drove to TM's school. Drove back. Remembered that we had left Pre School's book bag at home. In the tumble drier. Had been subjected to being dragged through the deep oozy mud the night before. Squelch squerch. squelch squerch. Went through the front door. Opened the tumble drier. got the bag. Retied on name label. Put book into bag. Got into the car. Round to the pre school. Back home. Got two youngest ready for my "three hours off a week" when I take both the youngest two to a day nursery for three hours and go out on the razz or something. Like supermarket shopping.

In fact I had arranged to meet Sensible who was in need of serious "tlc" having not been selected to be Head Girl of her school.Whizzed into town. Went on a seriously therapeutic shop with Sensible: I needed to buy a sewing machine to make curtains... and Sensible helped me. Thank you Sensible.....Will buy you a nice coffee out soon...

Pulled out of multi storey car park. Drove over invisible hump. Thought had damaged car. Apparently not, so drove on home.

Mayhem ensued for the rest of the afternoon, but peace was in sight as Gymnast and I were due to go the the theatre in the evening. Hubby was needed late at work to be very important, so Sensible offered to babysit until he got home. Finally escaped. Car wouldn't start. Has strange quirk where if it is parked at the wrong angle (i.e. on the pavement) and is only a quarter full it thinks that it is empty. ESOS helped me push the car off the pavement and I drove off happily across the road to the petrol station.

Oh....Not so happily. Car shaked and trembled. Shaked and trembled. Got out of car. FLAT tyre. Seriously flat. Seems that the invisible hump was far from harmless. Tyre had apparently been deflating all afternoon.

Went back into the house. Threw down keys. "I can't go." I moaned. "Yes you can. Said Sensible. "Go in the minibus." The minibus, it transporting so many of us, seats seventeen and to say the least is a little on the big side to park in Cheltenham. "I can't park that by the theatre." I remonstrated. "Park it on the road" Said Sensible. "Go!"

And then thankfully I had a brainwave. Called Hubby on his way home from Bristol. Arranged to swap cars en route. Got into seriously small Fiat Punto and did rest of journey.

Got to the theatre a couple of minutes late. Not bad considering. Saw all but first two minutes of the play...

The next day, ESOS, back in his suit asked: Is it possible that my trousers have shrunk? Yes indeed. Completely possible but I fear he will be wearing them until the year end nevertheless, and preferably without the Shrugby please!

(*shoe rugby, a weird version of rugby played by ESOS and friends at school, which involves much mud and serious abuse of nice clothes)