Tag Archives: coconut cake

25th September 2024 – YOU WON’T BELIEVE …

… this, but this afternoon, I have had a shower. In my apartment.

Had you been here, you would have laughed, watching my faithful cleaner and me struggling to help me climb over the side of the bath into the basin and, with even more difficulty, climbing back out afterwards.

Many people have a life that is full of nothing but problems, but it seems that my cleaner and I have lives that are full of solutions and we managed it in the end.

But I’ll tell you something for nothing, and that was that I was so exhausted afterwards that I almost fell asleep standing up while I was making my hot chocolate. And I did crash out later for half an hour or so on my chair in the office.

However I put that down to the miserable night that I had last night. When it came round to bedtime I was too exhausted to stand up from my chair (and I’m not sure why, as I’d done nothing strenuous all day) but not tired enough to go to sleep.

In fact I was so exhausted that I didn’t even have the strength to perform my daily back-up of the computer. Instead I just sat here with a blank expression on my face … "so what’s new?" – ed … just like Chris Isaak, WAITING FOR THE RAIN TO FALL

It was about 03:20 when I finally fell into bed. That was what I call “ridiculous”. But it’s no wonder that I fell asleep this afternoon, and it’s surprising that it was only for half an hour.

At least it didn’t take me long to drop off and there I stayed, totally out of this world when the alarm went off at 07:00

When the alarm rang I was away with the fairies. I was carrying out some kind of investigation into a General who had recently come out of hospital, I don’t know why, whether it was for an operation or a war wound. But this was coming back to Roman times, and as they began to tell me the story about the General I suddenly realised that I’d heard all this before some other time and this was a repeat of a previous incident that had taken place. So I wondered what on earth was going on about this because this sounded just far too unusual to be any kind of coincidence

And I’ll tell you exactly where this took place too. On the way to Avranches, half a dozen kilometres from the railway station, there’s a roundabout with a petrol station just past it and a wood to the eastern side of the road. It was in that wood, looking north-east where this went on. Obviously the stress and strain of hitting the road three times per week to Avranches and back is starting to take its toll.

It won’t surprise you to learn that I had a struggle to haul myself out of bed when the alarm went off. I really didn’t feel much like it at all but it’s one of those things that the longer I leave it, the more difficult it becomes

In the bathroom I had a good scrub up and then came back to listen to the dictaphone. There was nothing else on it so I carried on with tagging the videos. And that’s difficult too because for many of the videos, the metadata is locked and I can’t edit it.

When the nurse appeared she sorted me out and gave me a few instructions about this and that. She didn’t stay long either so I could carry on quite rapidly.

After she left I made breakfast and read MY BOOK. And the more I read, the more I like the author, Thomas Wright.

Today we’re wandering around the remains of Verulamium. And if you think that I’m far too cynical for my own good, you ought to read his account of the history of the Abbey of St Albans and the founding of the town
"The monks who built it wanted a saint; they found in a then popular Christian Latin poet, Fortunatus, mention of a man named Alban, who was said to have suffered martyrdom in Britain. The Saxon monks accordingly dug up some Roman bones, declared that they belonged to the martyred body of St.Alban, and built their church upon the spot"
And later on, when King Offa decided to found a monastery on the site in penance for the murder of King Aethelbert –
"More bones were dug up, and these were miraculously shown to be the same relics of the saint which had been lost since the first church was neglected"
And I thought that I was cynical. I tell you – I have nothing whatever on him

But all these little anecdotes from people who were there at the time or who interviewed people who were, they are all in danger of being lost as modern research is just centred around Wikipedia and nothing else, and the old books are abandoned.

Back in here I went to pair off the tracks ready to write the notes but I hit a problem. The audio-editing program that I use has had an upgrade, and all of my settings have been set to default. That means that when I’m editing, the program is doing things that I don’t want it to do.

This issue cropped up previously and I asked for help in the users’ forum and we managed to resolve it. And here it is again, I can’t remember what I did and I can’t find my original request in the forum.

It took me an age to find my question and once I had the answer it took just seconds to fix. And then I came across more issues but I had an idea of what might be causing them and I was able to fix them with e little persuasion and a lot of time.

It wasn’t until after (a late) lunch that I began to write the notes, and it took an age to finish them, what with all of the interruptions.

Firstly, I had to hunt for my swimming trunks. In the end after about half an hour I gave up. They aren’t in here. However I did find the missing pair of shorts which is good news. And that’s what usually happens with me. You never find what you are looking for but you always seem to find what you hunted and gave up looking for last time.

It’s like when I was rebuilding the house. I’d seen stuff on sale at a bargain price and think “I’m going to need that in six months time” so I buy it at the cheap price. And then when I come to need it, I can’t ever find it, have to buy a full-price article and then find the bargain price one two weeks later.

Anyway, now that I have two pairs of shorts, I can wear one in the shower. I don’t want to frighten the cleaner.

Helping me into the bath was one thing. I sat on a chair at the side of the bath, lifted my legs over the side and then tried to stand up. At first I almost fell over but the cleaner caught me and I struggled upright with the aid of a crutch. Imagine that – a crutch under the shower!

The shower wasn’t all that good, mainly because I couldn’t stand directly in the stream, having to lean against the wall. But it was so lovely just to be there with the warm water cascading down onto me.

There were many things that I could have done better, and I will do next time. Because there will be a next time. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I never make a mistake. I just learn a lot. I can’t remember who said it but I do remember someone saying "experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted". … "It Was Randy Pausch" – ed …

Helping me out of the bath was even more fun. As the bath is higher than the floor, the chair on the floor at the side of the bath was too low for me to sit on. My cleaner had the bright idea of fetching a wooden box and putting that on the seat. I could manage that and I gradually managed to lift my legs out of the bath, dripping water everywhere.

But at least I managed it

We did have quite a laugh though. "Imagine if someone came to the door now" said my cleaner
"Yes" I replied. " ‘Just give me a minute to put on my trousers’. They’ll wonder what on earth we’ve been doing"

After she left I carried on with the notes and then had a pause for my hot chocolate and coconut cake. And it’s quite nice, my cake. It really is. The coconut oil works really well. I’ll make this cake again, that’s for sure.

As I mentioned earlier, I almost fell asleep standing up while waiting for the chocolate to heat up, and back here, I didn’t hold out long before I was gone.

While I was asleep I dreamed that I’d gone to look at someone’s ‘H’ registered Volvo 7-series estate that was for sale. There was some kind of comparison run by the local newspaper. They had a total of 5 adverts for similar cars and compared the prices. They thought that one at €1895 by a private seller sounded like a good deal. And then We ended up somehow in the tundra and someone was driving a green industrial machine down along the railway track through a pine forest.

And I almost had a Volvo 7-series estate too once. Not long after I’d started chauffeuring in Brussels the garage where we bought our petrol had one on the forecourt at a reasonable price, a diesel, so I took it for a drive. It was a lovely car but it was at the wrong time. I couldn’t really afford it. But it’s true to say that I am yearning for the tundra. A trip to Upper Labrador, every night, “sleeping out” like I did in Strider, listening to the timber wolves howling. I’ve told my niece and her husband to make sure that there’s a cross planted for me at my favourite spot in the Mealy Mountains.

After I’d finally finished the notes I went for tea. Tonight it’s a leftover curry with rice and a naan bread, and there was enough leftover to make two helpings. And I’ll be looking forward to the second helping because it really was good. Right now though, it’s freezing to be put aside for another time.

The spotted dick with coconut soya cream for pudding was lovely too and I’ll make that again as well. My cooking is improving and I reckon that I’ll go berserk when I finally have a decent oven, whenever that might be. It’s a shame about the one in Caliburn.

So right now I’m off to bed, to catch up on my beauty sleep. And I need it too.

But talking about miracles … "well, one of us is" – ed … reminds me of the Priest who came back from a trip to Lourdes. At the airport coming home he was stopped by Customs who searched his belongings.
"What’s that in that flask there?" asked the inspector
"Holy water from Lourdes" replied the Priest.
So the Customs inspector opened it and sniffed it. "No it isn’t!" exclaimed the Inspector. "It’s brandy!"
"The Saints be praised!" shouted the Priest. "Another miracle!"

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Tuesday 17th September 2024 – WHAT A HORRIBLE …

…night I had last night.

For a start, it was after midnight when, after I’d let it all hang out, I went off to bed. And if that’s not bad enough, I awoke again at about 03:30, and there I stayed, tossing and turning with one trip down the corridor, until long after 05:00. I have never been so fed up in all my life.

There was one moment round about 04:30 when I was actually thinking of leaving the bed and working, in an attempt to make up some of the lost hours, but it needs to be more sustainable than that if ever I do.

At some point I must have gone back to sleep, not that I remember doing so, because when the alarm went off at 07:00 I was fast asleep. So at least I’ve had some slumber somewhere.

In the bathroom I had a good scrub up to try to make myself presentable, and then I came back in here to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. It was about 02:00 somewhere and I was wandering around the town. I suddenly bumped into one person after another out of my Welsh class. There were just three of us at first and there was something of a dispute between two of them about something rather trivial. One of them mentioned that he’d seen the others somewhere else in town and went off to fetch them. I went off to see if the little room in the café was free and we all met up there except the one who had been offended. He had disappeared and we couldn’t find him so we just ended up chatting amongst ourselves. This group slowly evolved into another group of my friends. We were upstairs on the top of a bus. I was sorting through some papers and had my personal, handwritten diary there. One of my friends grabbed it and began to read it. I asked for it back but she wouldn’t hand it back. I thought “well, never mind” and in something of a sulk went and sat somewhere else. I ended up having to go for a walk around the perimeter of the upstairs of this bus. I had STRAWBERRY MOOSE with me. It was quite crowded and we had to wrestle and fight our way through. By the time that I returned to where my friend was, she had almost finished my diary. I tried to take it from her and in the end she relinquished her hold. By this time I was in such a bad mood that when I noticed that she ws disappointed having to give it up I told her “well if it means that much to you, you carry on reading it!’ and I stormed off and went to sit somewhere else again. I found the place where I had sat before but just then a group of children in this real heavyweight pram pushed by these two women came past and crushed all the seats in under the tables etc. One of the little girls was sitting on my seat so I gave her Strawberry Moose, surprised that she hadn’t noticed him already. She began to feel all round him and I realised that she was blind. One of the other kids suddenly noticed the moose, began to cry and said something in Russian. I didn’t understand what it was that it had said but the woman replied in an American accent in English. I didn’t say anything but she made some kind of comment about the disturbance that she was causing and the mess that was going on. She said to me “and you should have grabbed me while the going was good”. I thought “well, yes, there’s not much chance of that, is there?” but I was still in such a bad mood about my friend hanging onto my diary and reading it

That is one of those dreams that the trick cyclist would have hours of endless fun examining. Freud would probably give you a completely different meaning and a third, say Nietzsche, would find another meaning. His involvement would be due to his famous phrase "out of chaos comes order" but he’d never looked inside my head at that point. As I have said before … "and on many occasions too" – ed … I feel really sorry for the person who draws the short straw and has to look inside my head

But that dream reminds me of one of Ambrose Bierce’s quotes – "A year is a period of 365 disappointments", and that dream seemed to be full of them

The chief nurse is back on duty today, complete with his sciatica, and maybe that’s the reason why he’s grumpy right now.

He told me that he used to work in a dialysis unit and began to tell me some in-depth information that I don’t need to know and I had to tell him three times to shut up.

Another thing he said was that if my legs continue to shrink widthways we will be able to dispense with the puttees and go back to these elasticated socks. We shall see.

Breakfast was next. And while I was at it, I was reading my book and we have reached a chapter about a Roman brickworks and Tile factory in my old neck of the woods just outside Holt in Wrexham.

It had been excavated at the turn of the 20th Century and my author, writing in 1923, was eagerly awaiting the published report. However he will have a long wait even today because after the archaeologist died in 1925 there was no trace of his notes.

The site is extremely difficult to spot from the air, unfortunately, but I checked it by overlaying a modern field map over the rough drawing, and to my surprise, if you go to an aerial map viewer like Google Maps and type or copy in the map reference 53.08382914907756, -2.8868042627705814, can you make out the trace of the Roman Road that went through the site?

Back in here I began to revise my Welsh – the correct unit this time – and then went for the lesson. There weren’t very many of us today and it was hard work. After my wretched night I felt awful too, so it was not my best lesson by any means.

But it was nice to see one of my classmates back after a long illness.

After the lesson I had work to do. Once more the fridge had iced up and before breakfast I’d switched it off. After breakfast I had emptied it and put some old towels (thanks, Liz) in the bottom.

Now I had the job of cleaning the fridge and mopping up everywhere, and that wasn’t the work of five minutes either.

Strangely, I always seem to be struggling for space in the fridge but just simply emptying it and refilling it seems to make plenty of room. I wonder if that would work for the freezer, but I’m not brave enough to try it. Every time I open the door, something inside closes it again.

There I was though, up to my ears in soggy towels and waterlogged floor and who should stick her head in with some supplies but my loyal cleaner. She shoved me aside and in five minutes flat had made the place habitable again.

But sticking that lino down on the wood floor in the kitchen area was a master-stroke

The rest of the day was spent choosing music for the next radio programme. That’s all done and the pairs of music are chosen and segued together. Tomorrow I’ll be writing the notes as much as I can, but I need to sort out a physiotherapist.

One of my UK bank cards and the new card reader finally turned up today so I had to configure them, make sure they work, and then set about transferring some money round and about here and there. I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that there’s something on the go in the UK and we are about to start in earnest

All in all, despite being totally exhausted, I’ve accomplished a lot today.

The bad news is that the cleaner has talked to the pharmacist, and she doesn’t think that the anaesthetic cream is any better than the patches and that we should persevere. My answer to that is that it’s my arm that they’ll be persevering with, not hers.

Tea tonight was a taco roll with rice and veg followed by jam roly-poly and coconut-flavoured soya cream, and it was delicious.

While we’re on the subject of coconut … "well, one of us is" – ed … I sampled my coconut cake today – the first slice. And it’s simply delicious.

It’s a standard oil-cake but with some of the oil replaced by melted coconut oil, and a big heap of desiccated coconut mixed in it.

So what else would work in this? I can make chocolate and ginger, and now coconut. Anyone any more suggestions? I haven’t overlooked a spotted dick – just haven’t reached there yet.

So that’s it, I’m off to bed. I’ve done enough, I’m absolutely worn out with my rotten night

But before I go, there are a couple of mails that I’ve received from some regular readers of this rubbish. I haven’t overlooked to reply – I’m simply overwhelmed with things right now

If anyone else feels the urge to write and say hello, don’t hesitate. There’s a contact form at the bottom right. And if you have a google or gmail address, it will be Strawberry Moose who will reply to you.

All hits, requests, comments and suggestions are welcomed, even those suggestions that are physically impossible. At least it shows that you are awake.

Once not too long ago there was someone who sent their son to study at the Sorbonne in Paris with the aim of giving him a formal and profound immersion in foreign culture and languages
"And did it work?" asked a neighbour
"Ohh yes" replied the mother. "In no time at all he could write home to ask for money in six different languages"

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Sunday 15th September 2024 – I HAVE BEEN …

… a very busy boy today.

Yes, even though it’s not Pancake Tuesday, Eric’s busy baking. Currently cooling down on a rack is a coconut-flavoured oilcake and (rather overcooked) tray of flapjack. There’s enough here to keep me going for a couple of weeks.

And I’ll need it too because I won’t have much time for anything else once this dialysis stuff gets properly under way. I worked out that I’ll be losing at least 18 hours per week at this, and as I’m not crashed out for 18 hours per week, time that I can recover by having the dialysis, if I’m only crashed out for, say, 9 hours, I need to find the other 9 hours from somewhere else.

Either that or there has to be such a major improvement in my health that I can work twice as fast.

Either way, it looks as if many of those hours will be lost for good in which case I shall have to do something.

What I could do is of course go to bed later and use the afternoons in dialysis to catch up on my sleep, seeing as there’s nothing much else going on while I’m there.

And so we made a start on this idea by being later in bed last night, staying up to dictate the radio notes that I’d written during the week.

Actually a late night wasn’t so important because with it being Sunday it’s a lie-in day where I can stay in bed until 08:00.

That is of course provided that I don’t awaken at … errr … 06:25 like this morning.

Even so, no chance of my leaving the stinking pit at that hour even if I could have recovered 90 minutes of my missing time. Instead I curled up under the bedclothes and waited for 08:00

When the alarm went of I leaped … "yes" – ed … out of bed and headed off for the bathroom to make myself ready for the day

There was then time to listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I seemed to have been subjected to the old dodge about the blind man who loses the bottom six inches off his cane, standing there on the edge of a precipice about to fall over. Luckily I came to my senses and realised what was happening before I’d made it completely out of bed so I could control the situation from where I was

Yes, I remember, in trying to help the old man I was almost out of bed before I realised that it was a dream and so I climbed back in. If I’m going to go sleepwalking around during the night, it’s a good job that I’ve started wearing shorts in bed. I don’t want to give anyone an inferiority complex

And then I was with Cecile. We’d had a huge, blazing row just before we’d planned to go off on a skiing holiday in the Highlands of Scotland. I’d picked a really interesting route by going as far as the Ayrshire coast and then island-hopping all the way to the far north, which we were both looking forward to. After this row she decided that she didn’t want to go and I had to persuade her and use all the tactics in my power to persuade her to go, telling her about all the wildlife that we’d see and the good time that we’d have have etc. But she was worried that her ex-boyfriend would be up there at that time and make life difficult for us but that wouldn’t bother me and all of the usual replies. The situation still never resolved itself by the time that the dream ended but I certainly did my best to try to have Cecile change her mind and come with me to the North.

Arguing with Cecile is a new dream. I seem to recall in a dream having argued with anyone else but not with her. And I wonder how she’s doing. Since she abruptly quit the Auvergne 10 or 11 years ago to go to help her mother on that isolated island in the Bay of Biscay I’ve not seen her, neither have I had any news. I hope that they are OK, although in all honesty I doubt if her mother is still with us.

Finally, I was with a group of people, Americans, and they wanted a cup of coffee so we went to a café but it was busy and the people were queueing outside. These Americans were most annoyed and snapping at the serving staff about the delay. I was so embarrassed because it was clearly nothing to do with them and was so sorry for them that I apologised. A little later I found myself on a stretcher being pushed around Charles de Gaulle Airport. The guy pushing me encountered a girlfriend and they stopped, chatting for 10 minutes. Then they pushed me, on this stretcher, onto a TGV. We had to go into the cafeteria carriage. We were there in the cafeteria, me on the stretcher and the guy in attendance, as we were hurtling at 300 kph across Europe. It was really most astonishing.

Where would I be going on a stretcher from Charles de Gaulle Airport on a TGV? If you’d asked me a year or two ago it would of course have been Brussels and then on to Leuven. Today it would be Rennes where I’d be put on a local train or, more likely, an ambulance to bring me back home

But issues with Americans, we all know about those. Many Americans, and indeed many other city-dwellers, don’t seem to understand that the pace of life is so much slower over here and they need to take it easy.

Isabelle the Nurse turned up. She wanted me to take off the plaster and look at my operation, so I asked her if she knew the reply given in the case of “Arkell v Pressdram”, which she didn’t.

She sorted out my puttees, took the recipe for Jam Roly Poly which she had asked me to prepare and then she complied with the reply given in the case of “Arkell v Pressdram”.

But Hans is going to have his work cut out writing the Epic Hall Book of Vegan Recipes at this rate

Once Isabelle had departed I could make breakfast and then go to read my book while I ate. Today we’re talking about abandoned settlements and those at Silchester and Venta Icenorum have been the topic of discussion.

As for the latter, its situation was only tentatively identified as “likely” and it wasn’t until 1928 when a chance aerial photograph revealed something hitherto inexplicable.

So if you take Google Maps or whatever, put it in “aerial view” mode and copy co-ordinates 52°35’00″N 1°17’27″E, now isn’t that absolutely beautiful, streets and all?

Back in here afterwards we had Stranraer v East Fife and what a game that was. Stranraer actually managed to win (for once) and that will make them feel better. With a squad ravaged by injury and barely able to put out any substitutes, they went into a 2-1 lead and clung on until the final whistle.

Meanwhile, in other news, over at the Excelsior Stadium in Airdrie, in the game between Airdrie United and Falkirk we had a classic example of PLAYING IT OUT FROM THE BACK from a goal-kick. What price a glorious hoof upfield?

After lunch I attacked the radio notes that I’d dictated before going to bed.

They are all edited, assembled, the length of the extra track calculated, the track chosen, remixed, notes written, dictated, edited and everything joined together as it should be to make one good hour-long radio programme

And then we started on the baking. A tray of flapjack and an oil cake, but with some of the oil substituted by melted coconut oil, and heaps of desiccated coconut added in

The oil-cake needed longer than the flapjack so I covered the flapjack with baking paper and that seemed to work (thanks, John).

The problem with my oil-cakes is that they rise really well in the oven but the moment that I open the door to take them out when baking is finished, they collapse again

Anyway, it’s baked now and everything else is cooling off. I’ll see what the coconut cake tastes like tomorrow.

With a stinking-hot oven I was sure that my pizza would cook nicely – and I was right. This new cheese is good, the base is excellent and the heat of the oven made sure that it was cooked really well.

So dialysis again tomorrow. I wonder where it will end. But I was so impressed with that aerial image, so if you have access to an aerial map, go for a look

But the story of the blind man with a cane reminds me of the time that a family was eagerly awaiting the return of their husband and father from work back in the Victorian era.
He’d gone up to London in a thick smog and throughout the day it went from bad to worse.
On the way back to the station for his train he found his way by tapping his cane along the street
"And then what happened?" asked his wife when he finally returned home next morning
"Suddenly, there was nothing. No sound, and no feeling" he said. "I thought that I reached the end of the pavement"
"What did you do then?" she asked
"I tapped my stick to the left, but nothing" he said. "So I tapped it to the right, but nothing. So I turned to go back, and still nothing. I thought that the World had come to an end so I stayed still, didn’t move, and prayed"
"So when the fog cleared and the dawn broke, what had happened?" asked the wife
"I found that the bottom six inches had broken off the end of my stick and it wasn’t reaching the ground."

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