Bread, barbecues and BS

It’s as hot as hell here today and I bloody hate hot weather – we’re holed up indoors with the shutters and windows firmly closed. I’ll be so glad when the summer’s over – it’s bad enough putting up with this Covid nonsense without having to struggle with the weather as well. Every day seems like a battle on several fronts at the moment. I’m so looking forward to colder days and going for a walk when you can see your breath in the air. Sounds like bliss right now.

I did a really stupid thing on Wednesday, there’s clearly no hope for me… I put all the ingredients for a loaf into the bread machine and switched it on; four hours later, beep, beep, beep, I lifted the lid to find a wholemeal brick! I’d put all the ingredients in… except the yeast! I’ve been using a bread machine for nearly ten years and never have I managed to do that before. I’m putting it down to stress. I can live without the loaf, it’s the waste of flour which is really brassing me off. Yesterday’s effort was back to normal again, thankfully.

A word about barbecues. There’s no nice way to put this… they stink. We have people living nearby who seem to love them, but it’s pretty awful if the wind’s in the wrong direction on a sunny day. It’s probably something to do with primal urges that make men want to cremate slabs of flesh in the open air… “Me strong man, me kill animal, me make fire”. Well, if that’s what it takes to make them feel manly, I can only feel sorry for the women in their lives! 

It’s always men btw, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman cooking dinner on a barbecue. They’ve more sense, obviously. Would it burst the cavemen’s bubble to point out they didn’t actually stalk and kill a woolly mammoth with their bare hands, they just went to Tesco and picked up a slab of dead cow/pig/lamb and a few sausages?

I saw this in the Guardian the other day.  Ethical omnivores, eh? What a pile of pretentious, self-indulgent BS! “I want to eat meat but I know it can’t be morally justified. Here’s an idea…! I can feel better about it and demonstrate how ethical I am by eating all the manky bits as well as the more acceptable parts – this will show ‘honour and respect’ because ‘we owe it to the animal’. I’ll then write a book, make a bit of money, preach to the sheeple and they’ll all think I’m a good person. Job done”. Dear me… that is some serious self-delusion there!

If you’re so concerned about the animal, dummy, how about not killing the poor beast in the first place? Once it’s dead does it really matter whether you eat it or sling it in the nearest bin? Either way, it’s still dead.

A decision has been taken chez nous that, from now on, this house will be a Boris-free zone. He can make whatever stupid rules he likes and if we choose to go out (highly unlikely) we’ll follow the rules but, in this house, OUR rules apply. So, people here will be free to wear masks… or not, free to have a hug… or not, free to ignore social distancing… or not; whatever they, and we, feel comfortable with.

Boris and his bloody rules can get the hell out of my home.