it has been two weeks since...

Well, I have now been unemployed for two weeks. It has been a fantastic lazy time. The time just flies when you are doing nothing. My days have been occupied with playing on my Mac, doing a bit of cleaning around the house, having a shower, and getting dinner ready for when Mrs McMuffin returns from work. In fact, the days do not seem long enough. I sometimes wonder how I ever managed to fit in working too. One, perhaps unsurprising, side effect of not working is that I have stopped getting headaches. I don't think I have had one for about three weeks. I have had one interview for a job. Fortunately, although I hate the rejection, they didn't want me. Their feedback was that I had given a good account of myself in the interview but I didn't have experience of managing multiple teams. Of course, they knew that before they interviewed me. During the interview they seemed to lose interest in me when I told them that I couldn't work on Fridays because I see my therapy clients then. Oh well, their loss. I have another interview tomorrow afternoon. It was supposed to be today, but the agency phoned this morning and rearranged things. I have never done this job before, but luckily my friend, Victoria Sponge, does the same job. I spent the afternoon with her yesterday gathering intelligence. I have spent today reading all sorts of legislation and guidances, just in case. While I was with Victoria Sponge, we used the opportunity for me to familiarise her with making posts on our blog.

I guess the thing that has taken up most of my time over the last few days has been designing a website for our new training company. It is a time consuming enterprise for sure, but it is nearly done. Nice and clean with a simple interface and clearly written info. I am quite pleased with it. However, I have done a version of the site that can be sent as a html email and there are a couple of errors that I cannot for the life of me work out how to fix. Oh, the irony, I am about to spam a whole load of companies that might be interested in the services that we are offering! I comfort myself with the thought that we are going to provide a really useful service to them, assuming they pay us lots of money, of course.

Mrs McMuffin will be pleased that I have posted. She is always on at me to post something. I really am more interested in setting it up and reading what she, and other people, have written.

I'll let you all know how I get on with my interview tomorrow.

By the way, Norah, there are still people here who need to know what is going on at work!

Dydd Dewi Sant

Happy St David's day to everyone. I hope you have been wearing Daffodils, Leeks and proudly singing all the Welsh songs you know. I don't intend to make a fuss, after all the St Patrick's day celebrations are SO tacky (even if he was a Welsh/Scottish man-historians a little unclear on this point).

If you haven't been to St David's in Pembrokeshire, then get there as soon as possible. It's lovely. The Welsh tourist board have not 'bigged up' Wales very effectively, and so it is a relatively secret delight for our overseas visitors. Claim some 'teulu' (family-hope I've spelled it right) and you will be treated well. Actually, you'll probably be ok as long as they don't think you're English. Say 'diolch yn fawr' a couple of times, and they will love you. or at least not spit in your food.

working at home again

I have been exiled to my home by new boss. He wants me to close some of the cases that have my name on them because I am a manager, not a case worker, and thinks people will bother me too much if I stay in the office. He also gave me the impression that I am somehow hanging on to them for unexplained reasons. It doesn't matter that I used to rant about wanting them transferred as I can't do both jobs, now he's in charge and I am bad girl who can't let go. I didn't even want to work at home today. I shall show him, I shall do very little work. Haha.

Actually, that's quite unfair as new boss is also very good boss. Ms Ginger Cake and I selected him and forced him to apply, as neither of us wanted the job. He's already made a real difference, and I have been very impressed by his enthusiasm for the work. His ideas fit so neatly with ours that there is a real sense of being able to work well together to strengthen and develope the service to children and their families. He's also unafraid to challenge others agencies about their lack of involvement and support. I see good times ahead.

I think that the real problem is that we were left for so long in a dire situation, without the power to do anything about it. Now that things are looking up, I have the space to be angry about this. I find myself ever so slightly reluctant to let go of my sense of being 'up against it all'. I have told new boss that I have sacrificed quite enough personally and professionally over the last two years, and now I want my development back on track. To his credit, he agreed. He also had to look after his new baby for an hour at work yesterday, so I was able to drool over it. Now I normally cannot stand babies unless they are family members, but his is lovely. Smiley, happy, very responsive, and it smells good.

I have now convinced myself that I am playing silly games. I have been given an opportunity to resolve some of the issues that made me unhappy, and I should embrace it. New boss has also let me and Ms Ginger Cake go on some very good training at the expense of his time, and I should also show willing.

Now that I've resolved my ambivalence through blogging I shall return to work. I might even put in a little extra.

i'm a southern gal...

...not only in the UK, but also in the US. I am 61% 'definitely a Dixie'. I did have to approximate a couple of things. In one question I'm sure they're referring to the wood louse, which is of course a 'cheesy bug' or to Mr McMuffin a 'slater beetle'. I've always been fascinated by how people describe this humble creature, and there seem to be a massive range of regional names for it. When I've got more time I'm going to research this more thoroughly and make the huge contribution to humanity I was always destined for. Not for the glory and the prizes, you understand, but because I CARE.

cheesy bugs and white dog poo

Inspired by Single Cookie's question: Where IS all the white dog poo?

I think that people generally don't have as many dogs, and it is socially unacceptable to let them foul the pavements or footpaths. I imagine that there is less poo around to dessicate, assuming white poo is dessicated. I seem to recall as a kid that it crumbled when you stepped in it, as opposed to the squishy stuff you tracked all over the house after your Mum had yelled at you to take your shoes off, or at least check them.

These are just my thoughts, does anybody actually know? Was this poo from a now extinct breed of dog? As adults do we not see poo as much as we used to? I can't remember the last time I stepped in any, or really noticed it.

I guess you can call this scraping the barrel.

cheesy bugs...

Mrs McMuffin has become strangely obsessed with the cheesy bugs, or slater beetles, or wood lice...She has realised that practically every region in the country, or should that be world, has a different name for the little creatures. She would like your help in cataloguing all of the different names. Please leave a comment with the name you know these creatures by, and where you are from. In return for your help, please feel free to enjoy this recipe for wood louse sauce. Apparently it tastes like shrimp and goes really well with fish!

some interesting facts...

While I was looking for some photos of Slater beetles, I cam across some interesting facts. These little creatures, of which there are thousands of varieties, have remained largely unchanged for millions of years. They are perfect at what they do, which is usually spend the day sitting under damp stones or logs. Apparently they breath through gills in their back legs, which have to remain damp at all times. This may explain why we don't see them very often around our homes anymore. I imagine the increased use of central heating has made it very difficult for them to keep their little back legs damp. I also found out that there is a virus which turns them blue, oh, and they don't turn pink when you cook them, even though they are related to shrimp. It is all very interesting, but really I think my interest has peaked with this post. I bet Mrs McMuffin will be able to keep it going for much longer.

mostly today...

I have been cooking. Thought I'd invite Mrs McMuffin's sister and her partner round for food tonight. They have lived across the road from us for a few months now and we seem to see less of them than when they lived miles away. It is all very strange. I guess it has got something to do with each of us trying to respect the others privacy, but I think maybe we still need to do a little bit of tinkering. Anyway, tonight we are going to have a bit of a mish mash of things: aubergine and rocket dip, then giant salmon fishcakes, again, but they are so lovely, with shredded spring greens. I would usually have spinach but Mr Rock Cake would run a mile if I did that tonight. We are going to finish off with a pear crumble tart and cream. The crumble tart looks great. It was supposed to be made with apples, but Mrs McMuffin and her sister grew up with apple trees in their garden, and they often had apple based foods, so they aren't particularly impressed when I make something with apples. I have added a secret ingredient to the tart: a little sprinkling of creme de cassis, a lovely blackcurrant liqueur. Now all I have to do is clear up the mess that I have made!

the weather pixie is no more

I am sorry, but the weather pixie had to go. I really did appreciate the hard work that had gone into creating it, and it did demonstrate her skills in writing this sort of thing, but the graphics were terrible, and it would make me cringe everytime I looked at the page. I would still like to have simple weather thingy on our site, for our information more than anything, so if anyone knows of a really straight forward text based thing (I don't know what to call them.) please let me know.

sweetheart

Mr McMuffin is my 'cariad' today. Despite the ability to drive me insane in seconds, he can also make me very happy. I came downstairs this morning and he showed me the cheesy bug thing he had done, and I was almost late for training.

This training is excellent, and I'm really enjoying it. Normally we go to the training suite in a building slap bang in the most depressing estate I have ever seen. This time we're in a 15th century building surrounded by gorgeous gardens and fantastic greenhouses. I want my office to move there.

I've also stumbled into our garden and found that the frogs are back and breeding up a storm in our pond. This is the ugly pond that we wanted to get rid of, but given the rarity of sites where frogs can have sex, we have decided to keep our own little frog brothel. When it rains they get very adventurous and come inside. Mr McMuffin is a big baby because they are 'slimy' so I have to chase them around and get them out. They also sing a lot, not very tunefully, but you can pick out 'Baby, one more time' if you listen carefully.

In the botanical gardens in Funchal (Madeira) there is an small amphitheatre with a massive frog pond in the middle. One time we went, we were the only people and all the frogs started singing. It was, strangely enough, a magical moment. I can't wait to go to Madeira again, we try and go every couple of years, and it is always gorgeous and relaxing. It seems to be adored by the retired, and we were disapproved of by a couple of elderly gentlemen as they thought we should be in Ibiza or somewhere similar going clubbing and taking drugs. I know we looked young to them, but we really aren't that young.

frogs doing frog things

I thought I'd let you see what the frogs in our garden are getting up to. I am not sure what they are doing here but it looks like it could be illegal, or perhaps it should be illegal.

salmon fishcake recipe for Jo

This will make you four or five very large fishcakes. One fishcake per person is more than enough, even Mr Rock Cake, of the most extraordinary appetite, couldn't manage two. It was either the second fishcake or a pudding, and he opted for the pudding, and took the extra one home with him. Here we go:

600gm cooked potato [finely mashed, without butter or cream]
600gm salmon fillet [cooked and loosely flaked]
100gms smoked salmon [cut into small pieces]
4 spring/salad/scallions onions [finely chopped]
Handful of parsley [finely chopped]
Dollop of sweet chili sauce
Dollop of tomato ketchup [turns it a lovely shade of salmon pink]
Dollop of anchovy paste/essence/sauce
salt and ground black pepper to taste

Thoroughly mix together half of the cooked salmon with all of the other ingredients then loosely mix in the rest of the salmon trying not to break it up too much. The idea is that you will have some chunky bits of salmon in the mix. Using flour on your hands and a board, form the mixture into four or five fishcakes. I start off with a ball shape and then form it into a stumpy cylinder shape. These things are quite dramatic, and you are looking for a bit of height. They should roughly be about three inches across and two inches high, roughly. Put the fishcakes into the fridge to cool for two or three hours. You can even make them to this stage the night before. When you are ready, get yourself a solid base frying pan, and using a bit of oil, I wouldn't use olive oil because it smokes too readily, but it doesn't really matter what you use, brown off the top and bottom of each fishcake. I usually fry the cakes at a very high temperature for only a few minutes each end. The idea is to give the ends a bit of colour and a little bit of crust. It is probably easier to do just one or two cakes at a time or else you might have some trouble turning them. I have the splattered oil burns on my arms as evidence of this. Place the fishcakes onto a baking sheet as you finish frying them. Again, they can sit for a while until you are ready. I usually put them back in the fridge until I am ready to cook them through. Cook them in a moderately hot oven at about 400 fahrenheit/200 centigrade/6 Gas Mark for 25/30 minutes. They should be lovely and browned by then. I usually served them on lightly cooked spinach, but I always ensure that there is no water left in the spinach by putting the spinach in a sieve and pushing the water out using the back of a strong spoon. If it gets too cold you can always stick it back in the pot for a couple of minutes. Around this I spoon a lemon butter sauce which I make from a 100gms melted butter and the juice of two lemons. Beat this vigourously and at the last minute add some finely chopped dill. This is meant to be a thin sauce, used sparingly. I finish the whole thing off by topping the fishcake with some roasted baby tomatoes on the vine, just two or three depending on their size.

I hope that I have explained this well enough. I am writing this after having had just a little too much to drink. This is an impressive plate. It is hard to go wrong with it. Even 'uncooked' the fishcakes taste fantastic! All the measurements are approximate, and you can really add whatever you fancy, or have available, to the mixture. Just bear in mind that you don't want it to get too wet or else you will not be able to keep the shape. I wouldn't put tomatoes into the mixture because they can get very soggy. The smoked salmon is an essential ingredient. It completely transforms the taste of the finished fishcake. Let me know if there is anything that is not clear. Good luck. I'd like to know how it goes down for you.

Angel no more...

I have been shocked to find out that the network are thinking about putting an end to Angel. I am beside myself with grief. This is easily the best programme on TV at the moment, now that Buffy has come to an end. Please help Angel.

lost in translation...

...am I the only person who hasn't seen this film? Even Mr McMuffin saw it without me on Tuesday. I think it must be good as there are volunteers to go and see it again with me.

I have seen 'Goodbye Lenin' which I quite liked, even though I thought it was too long, and tried to say too much. I also saw about half an hour of 'Bad Boys II' ( I think) It lulled me to sleep.

I have had a good day today, and some good feedback about my skills as a trainer. I was feeling quite big headed about my ability to enable learning and communicate information effectively, until I realised a comment of mine had upset some people on another blog.

It's difficult to communicate my (sad attempts) at humour to some people in writing. It sort of gets lost in translation, and sometimes you can't beat saying things face to face. I think I'll have to start using :) as a little pointer that I'm not really serious.

Sorry.

give me my time back

We went to see 21 grams. I really wish we hadn't. Once you've worked out what's going on and what's going to happen, you've got another hour and a half until the end. I spent this dozing and whining to Mr McMuffin who was deaf to my pleas of leaving. Well, I had been the one who wanted to see it. I wish we had seen Torque, as Mr McMuffin requested. However as an ex biker I am torture to be with when motorbikes are featured as I get very bothered by people not doing up their chin straps or wearing gloves. I am also very bothered by the lovely little sports bikes that have forks about 20 foot long when they land after a flight through the air. I am pretty good at suspending disbelief, but not in relation to bikes.

we like tha moon

I love this more than is normal for a grown man. A big thanks Retro Girl for pointing this little gem out to us. You can have a big laugh here. Unless you are Mrs McMuffin, who seems to have lost her sense of humour.

no 1 boss

That was me today for an hour. In charge of everyone as there was no other manager available to deal with the millions of crises that came up at that particular time. I was wise and giving, and did not let the power go to my head.

I was ready to pull my hair out and yell at them all to leave me alone and think for themselves. Thank God it didn't last long, or we could have had a bigger recruitment crisis than the one we're in.

you're so clever...

...to have a chorus of 'we like tha moon' every time I open a new window, Mr McMuffin.

I may not post for a while as I am likely to be receiving inpatient psychiatric care to cope with the trauma. Thanks a lot.

we like tha moon...surprise

I was really pleased with myself and the technical wizardry that I demonstrated in getting the song off the site and onto our computer, and setting it up to run everytime we opened a window. However, I have had to remove it from our Mac to save our marriage. It will now have to be my dirty little secret...I will only listen to the song when she is not around. I have now had a good search around Joel Veitch's site, and it is it full of wonderful twisted stuff. I knew they were British!

bbc humour...

I was shocked to find the BBC making fun of the fate of a poor little American Robin probably on their first visit to the UK. I shall be protesting in the strongest possible manner. I am not sure I believe in the BBC anymore.

the difference between UK and US rawk

I have always wondered how best to describe the difference between UK and US rock music. Well now I don't have to. The lovely group, Whitesnake have provided me with the perfect illustration of the differences. I remember buying an album by Whitesnake called Saints and Sinners in 1984. The album wasn't much good, but it had a great single on it called Here I Go Again. I loved the gentle organ filled intro and the beefy rawk chorus. I lost the album somehow and this version seemed to disappear. Then in 1987 the band where reborn in the USA and they released an eponymous album which had a couple of big hit singles on it, one of which was Here I Go Again. I was a little bit non-plussed by this and questioned my memory. This didn't sound like the song I remembered at all. I have since learnt that the band re-recorded the song for their American debut. Anyway, this is a long winded way of telling you that I have now got hold of the original version of the song and you may be interested in hearing the two of them side by side. You can download the first minutes or so from each song. I know which version I prefer, but I'd be very interested to hear what you think.

UK version file ... US version

we like tha moon...again

I think of this as a public service. If, like me, you can't get enough of We Like Tha Moon, I have taken the song from the website so you can play it any time you fancy. I know it is a one joke thing but, for some reason, it makes me laugh every time I hear it. I don't know when I will tire of it, much to Mrs McMuffin's chagrin.

You can download the song here.

not again

More terrorism, more death, more pain. I can't say much more than this, and I don't really want to. Here in McMuffin world we try not to let the scary outside stuff in too often, but this couldn't be left unremarked.

weird latin phrase

Furnulum pani nolo [I don't want a toaster]

I just couldn't help myself, I just had to follow Kevin's suggestion to find out what weird latin phrase I am. According to Quizilla, "generally, things (like this quiz) tend to tick you off. You have contemplated doing grievous bodily harm to door-to-door salesmen." I am not sure what it means either.

feels funny...

...not to be able to check out most of my favourite blogs today, I don't know what's wrong, they just keep failing to load.

I have now completed my 'training for trainers' course, and am inspired. It's been excellent for networking, which I am terrible at, but will now pursue the contacts like a stalker! I have grown in confidence and am really looking forward to doing more training around child protection. There's no charge for my services in my local authority, but my rates are very reasonable if anyone out there is looking to book any training!

Must go now as I've got to get ready to go out (unfeasibly early) to dinner with Mr and Mrs Butcher. Tomorrow I've got to dress as a nun and Mr McMuffin has to be a Scot ( typecasting for both of us) as we're going to a 'murder mystery dinner' chez Carrot Cakes. I went to one of these years ago, and it was very good fun. The Carrot Cakes are excellent hosts, so this is something to look forward to. Honestly, dinners are like buses, and I'll be the size of one by the end of the weekend.

while I'm waiting

I'm ready to go out, and Mr McMuffin hasn't even had a shower. We're now indulging in that lovely couple sport, 'who's going to drive?'. Mr McMuffin thinks I should drive both nights so he can have a couple of glasses of wine, while I insist we share the driving duties, and he can even choose which night he wants to drive. Both journeys are too far for taxis. I think that I am the very model of reasonableness, and that Mr McMuffin will get a reputation as a bit of a lush if he drinks both nights. Both arguments have failed to convince him.

He's now decided to drive tomorrow, which is the longer journey. I didn't even have to play the 'I'm blogging about you' trump card. Once again the McMuffin marriage is saved. Rejoice!

more problems

I can only visit Norah today, which isn't much good, as she's on a plane. I had no idea how much I enjoyed reading other blogs until yesterday when I couldn't get to any of them, and it's just as bad today.

Blogging is not just enjoyable, but very useful. Mr Carrot Cake read yesterday's post, and lo and behold, an email arrived reminding us that she had expected us to stay over. Mr McMuffin laughed like a drain on hearing that he didn't have to drive.

I am still recovering from last night. Despite remaining alcohol free, I ate so much (but only half of what I was given) that my poor stomach is having a hard time dealing with it. The food was gorgeous though.

I feel as if I should do something today, but really can't be bothered, so it might be a biography channel afternoon. Mr McMuffin has been busy cleaning and washing, but obviously will not touch the bedding (not a boy's job) so I'll have to do that at some stage.

The book situation is dire again, and I'm in a bit of a dilemma. I work with a lovely woman, and we were chatting about films and books. She started telling me about a blook she had read which she had found interesting, 'The Bible Code'. I made politely interested noises, and the next day hed TWO of the damn books on my desk. Now I read the first one as I felt obliged, and it only took about an hour. However, there's another one, and I don't know what to do with it. I am toying with the idea of saying it's too frightening for me to read about the 'future' according to nutters, but I suspect I'll have to read it to avoid the guilts. I continue to thank my parents for not being Catholics, it was hard enough being raised Christian-lite to avoid the guilts, just think how much more messed up I'd be if Priests had been involved.

PS I am a 'Master of the Universe', no toasters for me!

taking the veil

I have to say that I don't dress anything like a Las Vegas showgirl, but am finding it surprisingly hard to put a nun's habit together. I really thought I had enough plain black stuff in my wardrobe to make this a doddle, but there's something slightly immodest in it all. One black dress has no sleeves, another has a slightly low neckline. The only thing that seems workable is my dressing gown, but I'm not going to dinner in that.

I have found a white hairband and black scarf (which occasionally I wrap around my head to play the wife of Papa Lazarou) which Mr McMuffin thinks is quite effective as headgear. In fact I like it so much I'm wearing it as I type. I've even found a haematite cross which Ms Ginger Cake brought back from Jamaica (spare a thought for the poor woman, she has flu again and is really poorly).

Now shoes are a problem. I go straight from winter boots to sandals usually, so don't have very much in the way of lady shoes. Mr McMuffin junior you may remember, has accused this lady of dressing like a boy, he did confess that he was jealous of women's fluffy fashions, but didn't manage to persuade me to buy any. In fact when I wore a pair of pointed slingbacks (with heels!) at my birthday, an old friend was convulsed with laughter every time she looked at me, and kept pointing and saying 'lady shoes' over and over again. So what would a nun wear? Plain knee length black boots or knee length biker boots? She wouldn't wear lady shoes would she?

While some bloggers concentrate on the important political and economic issues facing us all, you can rest assured that the McMuffins will continue to post banal trivia.

Sister Immaculata McMuffin has to sign off now and find SOMETHING to wear.

it was May Vest wot dunnit

Well Mrs Carrot Cake and I and Mr Carrot Cake's brother got the criminal, it was May Vest. This was fortunate as Mr Carrot Cake's brother is ex murder squad and I am a child protection social worker so it is reassuring to know we got it right. Mrs Carrot Cake works in the pharmaceutical industry, so you can't get one over them either. It was a fab night and I looked very nunly. The other ladies looked gorgeous too, and the men weren't too bad either. Good night poppets.

oh come on typepad...

...sort it out. It's raining outside, I'm too knackered from a fabulous night and heavy drinking to do anything today except read the papers, watch tv and check out blogs, and I can't bloody read any, and I'm getting sick of looking at ours.

I just have to say that Mrs Carrot Cake is an excellent cook. Now this shouldn't surprise me as she is a very capable woman, but you really don't expect your childhood friends to be totally grown up. How did we get from playing 'kick the bucket', nipping down the sweetshop for a quarter of pontefract cakes and thinking Cinzano tasted great, to jobs, houses, partners and everything else?

I can't quite pinpoint when it happened to us all (and it certainly has, Mrs Carrot Cake before you start mocking my maturity!) but it wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. I thought that we would be completely different people, and we are different, but I look at Mrs Carrot Cake and I can still see aspects of the 7 year old I first became friends with as well as the teenager I shared everything with. She does seem to have lost the university student who tried to make me eat uncooked chicken though, and that's a very good thing.

Bruce Bogtrotters Cake [from Matilda]

We had a lovely meal with Mr and Mrs Carrot Cake last night. The high point of the evening for me was the pudding. We had a fantastic chocolate cake. It is a bit squidgy like a brownie. I just had to track down the recipe and share it with the world.

This is a recipe from Roald Dahl's Revolting Recipes [created by Gary Rhodes] In case you've forgotten, Bruce Bogtrotter was the little boy that stole a piece of chocolate cake from the Trunchbull in Matilda. As punishment, he then had to consume an entire cake in front of the whole school!

The cake

175g butter
225g plain chocolate
175g self raising flour
6 eggs, seperated
125g caster sugar

The icing

225g plain chocolate
225g double cream

20cm cake tin lined with baking paper

Preheat oven to 180°c (gasmark 4).

Melt the chocolate and stir in butter till melted. Remove from the heat and beat in yokes then mix with flour and sugar. In a seperate bowl, whisk egg whites till stiff and fold half into the chocolate mix, mixing thoroughly. Fold in the other half of whites very carefully. Bake for 35 minutes. It should have a thin crust - don't worry if it is still sticky in the middle, it is supposed to like that although it will firm up a bit as it cools. When cool enough to handle, remove from the tin. Meanwhile, make icing. Melt the chocolate with the cream and blend together. Leave to cool. If the cake has sunk slightly in the middle, turn it over before pouring the icing over the top.

typepad is back

Hurrah! We've spent so long catching up with everyone else, we forgot to post.

Todays news:

Mr Rock Cake has cut off his golden tresses, and has a short back and sides. He looks really lovely.

Gypsy Tart has been a brave girl, and has passed her Scuba diving course. She is now all set for diving in Egypt next week with the stunningly gorgeous Mr Rock Cake.

I am tempted to cut off all my hair to see if I look gorgeous too.

where has the time gone...

I seem to have spent most of the day working out my psychotherapy training hours. There is a lot to be said for being better organised. I had to go back over my diaries for the last three years. Fortunately, I keep my diaries. I was a little disappointed by the number of hours that I have accrued. The registration requirement is that I should have at least 500 hours of client contact and 200 hours of supervision. Despite the fact that it seems a bit as if I do nothing but see clients and be supervised, the sad truth is that I still need around 100 hours of client time and 70 hours of supervision. I think this will probably take me about a year to do, if I take on a weekly supervisor. This is an incredibly expensive training, and the spending ain't over yet.

Well, I have tidied up a bit, and I am now going to have a shower before going off for one of my twice weekly therapy sessions. I do draw some satisfaction from the fact that there seems to have sprung up around me a small industry of people willing to help me develop as a person and a therapist...for a small cost.

Yours, in good mental health

Mr McMuffin

piggy mcmuffin

Mr Machet has made a good point about our eating habits, and we've got to go out for dinner this weekend too. This time we're going out to a real restaurant. I hope it's good or Mr McMuffin will moan all night, it's almost a shame that he is such a stunning cook, as it does make a lot of restaurants a disappointment.

Well, I had a very nasty day at work. If only I wasn't bound by confidentiality, I'd have such interesting stuff to write about.

Mr McMuffin is determined to fatten me up and has made another evil cake from Hobnobs (choccy ones), Mars bars, Maltesers, Crunchies, glace cherries and double cream. He saw it in a magazine and just had to do it. He has informed me that he did not think it had enough chocolate in it, and added another bar of Lindt.

When I first met Mr McMuffin I was very scrawny. Within 6 months he had fattened me up so I looked normal and healthy. I have shed some of this weight, and am now just slim, but how long will this last? I don't want to buy new clothes it's hard enough getting ones I like now. Just saying no is not an option here.

Am just finishing a good book, "the thief of time" lent to me by Gypsy Tart. Cheers chicken.

I love TV

Tonight I have watched 'Angel' and some 'Newsnight'. I have been very amused by some of the adverts for 'feminine products'. My favourite is Vagisil which refers to soreness or itching in the 'intimate feminine area'. Don't they mean the 'front bottom' or some other coy euphemism. For God's sake take a deep breath and say it with me, VULVA! I also like the classic 'Tena Lady' ads, those sanitary towel style adult nappies look SO comfortable. I really like the sanitary towel adverts which demonstrate absorbency by pouring blue liquid onto the things. Couldn't be having red now, could we?

Disturbed as I was by all of this, perhaps the most disturbing thing about my viewing was that I found myself in full agreement with every word uttered by Kenneth Clarke. He makes a lot of sense. Shoot me now.

he is evil and must be stopped

Mr McMuffin is more mad than usual. He has now created a new chocolate pudding which is Beelzebub's own. It is fashioned after a creme brulee (take note Mr Machete) and is smooth, silky, creamy chocolate gorgeousness with a crust of dark chocolate on top. He will post the recipe I'm sure.

What to do with this man. I've had long, tough hours at the office this week and am vulnerable to this cocoa creation. I know it's wrong, but it tastes so good, give it to me, give it to me... Aaaah, that's better.

Sorry about that folks, thought I'd try to be the new Nigella. Problem is my Dad wasn't stupid and arrogant enough to give me a thick name, or corrupt enough to be a rich Tory bastard. My Mum wouldn't have stood for it anyway, being a former Young Socialist and all. God bless her.

oops I forgot...

...I was supposed to go bloody BOWLING tonight. It was someone's leaving do. She's affectionately known as 'cut and paste' because she actually used to physically do this, and only stopped in the last couple of years when she was told that she would be sacked if she continued.

There's not much point me going now as it's 11.30, and I'm going to bed. Anyway I wish her luck in her new job, miles away from child protection. It could have been me...

chocolat faux brulee...

That's the best name we can come up with. I was inspired by the chocolate cake thing I made earlier this week. I wanted to see how much chocolate I could get into one dish. I think this easily is competition for the River Cafe chocolate nemesis cake and Bruce Bogtrotter's cake. Best of all, it takes a few minutes to make. Don't be put off by the ingredients, it is fantastic. This should make about 4 or 5 servings. I don' think the measures are set in stone, and I think you could just add a bit more of everything to make a couple more servings if you wanted to. The servings seem very small, aim for something around the size of an expresso cup, but are more than enough. You will need:

100gm of Toblerone [broken into pieces]
one Mars Bar [roughly broken up]
a good slug of kirsch, or any other liqueur you think will go with chocolate
142 ml tub of double cream
150gms of good quality dark chocolate

Put the Toblerone, Mars Bar, 50gms of the dark chocolate and cream into a bowl and microwave it all in 30 seconds bursts, stirring it together at the end of each burst. Keep going until it is smoothly melted. Add the kirsch. Make sure it is fully blended into the chocolate. Pour the chocolate into the serving pots. While the chocolate is cooling melt the remaining dark chocolate in a separate bowl in the microwave. Again do it in 30 seconds burst, stirring a the end of each burst, until it is smoothly melted down. Pour a very, very thin layer over the top of the chocolate mixture, covering completely. Let it all cool. I wouldn't put this in the fridge. I have been thinking about what else to do with this, and I think you could put two or three cherries that have been soaked in kirsch in the bottom of each pot before pouring over the chocolate mixture, or if you prefer on top of it all. If you make it, let me know what you think. Good luck.

ten years...

I can't believe it, but today is the 10th anniversary of my first date with Mrs McMuffin. We were supposed to go out the week before but she phoned me in the morning to tell me that she was too hung over to meet me. We had a lovely day together. We went to see some big stone that she likes, and for the life of me I can't remember what it is called. Then we went to a pizza place for something to eat. If only things were that simple now.

actually love actually

I forgot the date. I am bad at being romantic, but I did remember when Mr McMuffin asked me what day it was. Well, first of all I said 'Friday', but then I realised that the answer was not so simple.

I was also quite bad about the date. I really wanted to go, but had been up most of the night celebrating St Patrick's day in Canterbury with my sister and chums. I have to confess to being so drunk that when I got up the next morning, my sister and friend (who had been moaning about their hangovers) took one look at me and immediately felt better.

It was a good job I'd known Mr McMuffin for a couple of years, so he knew that I wasn't much of an alkie. I remember where we went, it was the Chiding stone in Chiddingstone. I have been fascinated by this strange lump of stone that just appears out of the ground, and doesn't fit in at all, and Mr McMuffin told me he was too. I think he lied, but it was sweet. We went to Tunbridge Wells after that as too much country makes Mr McMuffin all queasy. It was a good day, the first of many.
Not as many as some, I wish we'd met each other earlier, but we'll get there.

celebrating...

We went out last night to celebrate the birthdays of two of our friends who were born in the same week. Had a lovely time. The food was okay, but the pub/restaurant had a Jazz Duo playing for most of the night. They were bad. The singer, a man in his forties dressed from head to toe in black with an silver earing as accent, clearly thought he was cool. He sat half on a stool clicking his fingers to the beat. I kept waiting for him to say 'great'. I guess it would be hard to go through life as a singer in a Jazz Duo thinking you were a crap singer. I was a bit unsure where the Jazz came into it because their repertoire consisted mainly of covers of standard pop ballads. However, during one of his toilet breaks, a friend of his took over the singing duties, and he really could sing. Unfortunately, he only sang a couple of songs. The disappointment in the room was palpable when he left the stage. I felt a bit sorry for the other fella, and tried to be more charitable by gently clapping after his songs.

We seemed to established a bit of a tradition amongst our group of friends. This is the fifth year we have all gone out to celebrate the birthdays. And best of all the birthday girls do all the organising.

The Rose

As you know, we bought our house for the best of reasons; wooden shutters and a pantry. We completely ignored the massive amount of work needed inside and outside the house. I forgot to mention the beautiful rose bush which grew around the front door. Every summer gorgeous white roses surrounded our doorway.

I don't think this will happen any more. The winds have torn the rose bush and trellis off the side of the house, and made the pavement impassable to anyone wanting to get to the local corner shop. Mr McMuffin and I were forced to cut most of it down, and tie the surviving sticks against the wall. This is very sad. I went into a pruning frenzy and have now cut down most of the lavatera too. I know this will grow back as it comes from my parent's garden, and is the most difficult plant to kill in the world. Every year I hack at it until there is a mangled stump left, every year it takes over the garden with its pink flowers. I swear I can see it growing. I also made a quick snip at the grapevine, but the sap is rising, and it's like slashing an artery-I left well alone after that.

Today is Mother's Day, and Gypsy Tart and I are going round later to give Mum gifts. She deserves it for raising us and big sister. She is a good, kind and caring woman, a bit bonkers, but lovely all the same.
Of course I thought she was an evil bitch when I was a teenager, but she really has grown up and changed for the better!

spring clean

Mr McMuffin has cleaned up the room of shame. All his old PC mags and piles of papers have gone. He's enthusiastic about decorating, and was upset to hear that I was going to my parents, so we couldn't do it together. I pointed out he has just had 5 weeks off work, and really could have done it earlier. He was forced to concede this point, and now next weekend will be 'painting the room of shame weekend'.

Gypsy Tart was also stunned to find Rock Cake tidying their own room of shame. We thought that he and Mr McMuffin must have a secret boy pact, but it appears that spring had got to them both at the same time. Long live spring.

welcome back

To Ms Ginger Cake who has shaken off her last bout of flu, and is coming back to work tomorrow. She also has a fab new 'do' which involves lots of twists and plaits in the style of Star Trek, she is now Lt Ginger Uhuru.

I am blogging because Mr McMuffin has hired a terrible, terrible film called 'Cabin Fever' and despite my pleas to turn it off, is determined to watch all the characters die, as he doesn't like them. I tried reading, but I kept being distracted by the dialogue which consists of 'Fuck you, you fuck, fucking get away from me, you'll fucking infect me'. Classy n'est pas?

chiding stone

Et voila! One picture of the Chiding Stone. It wasn't so difficult really, all I had to do was a search for the Chiddingstone stone! How bizzare is that?

cabin fever...

Boy was that a bad film, and I usually am very forgiving of bad films. The characters were all horrible and deserved to die in as disgusting a way as possible. The script was even worse and should have been burnt along with the writer by the first person he showed it to. I know people say this all the time, or at least think it, but I really could have made a better film. They could have given me all that money. Truthfully, I am not sure I would have made a film with it though. What would have been the point if it was going to turn out so bad. I think I would have run off to South America and set up a commune. Of course, there would probably have to come a time when I would start to talk about distributing the kool aid, but until then we would have had a lovely time.

mr&mrs

I just wondered if anyone got confused about who was writing what. Mr McMuffin's posts can usually be identified by their huge paragraphs, and mine by their stunning prose. Actually we seem to be getting more and more similar, including our overuse of 'however', a word rarely used in our conversations. I can just imagine it:

Mrs McM: 'Mr McMuffin I am pleased with your endeavours in the kitchen, however, I must remind you that I am not fond of tabouleh'

Mr McM: 'Eat what you're given, you ungrateful bam pot'

It's not natural.

Mrs McMuffin

so cold...

...We won't be blogging much tonight as our boiler has stopped working. We only have a tiny fan heater, and my fingers are too cold to type for long. Mr McMuffin is trying to get it going, so I fear for our safety. I also fear that I shall get frozen to the bed tonight. Why couldn't it have given some warning, or waited until it was warmer? The only considerate part of this is that Gypsy Tart and Rock Cake are going to Egypt tomorrow, so we can nip over and use their bathroom.

I take it all back, Mr McMuffin done fix it! He is boy wonder and I love him more that ever, I just want to know why he didn't wave his magic wand 3 hours ago. I am eternally ungrateful.

so much colder...

...Mrs Carrot Cake has reminded me of our more intrepid past. I used to be a Venture Scout, I never meant to be, but when I realised it was a drinking club for people who wanted to do outdoorsy stuff I just had to join up. I even got Mrs Carrot Cake to come along as well, no mean achievement to get her to swap her stilletto's for walking boots.

Anyway, we used to have several expeditions a year. New Year was always very good, and in the late 80's we went to stay in Derbyshire. We stayed in a practically derelict building halfway up a mountain. It had walls, a roof and cold running water, but not much else. There was a vile chemical toilet outside, and it got so cold that the toilet froze. In the girl's room we used to go to bed wearing as many thermal layers as possible and snuggle into our 5 season sleeping bags. The moisture in our breath would freeze on the ceiling overnight, and as the sun rose, and the temperature in the room rose above freezing it would then rain down on us.

By day we would go mountain climbing, rock climbing and a whole host of other rufty tufty type activities. By night we learned to drink massive amounts of alcohol and contemplate the cold night ahead. I am amazed that we did this for fun.

Last year we had a reunion on the day of the big anti war march, and I rushed back to attend. It was incredible how we all seemed so bonded by our shared experiences and memories, and really touching that we all still liked each other so much. One year on, and I haven't been in touch with any of them, except the lovely Mrs Carrot Cake, and Gypsy Tart! As you may recall, Gypsy Tart is my sister, so it would be hard to shake her off. Ah, memories, memories.

he doesn't pay rent

Little Slinky has officially moved in. He refuse to return to his home except occasionally to eat, and comes back as quickly as possible.

Last night Gypsy Tart came over to get her suitcase back from me, and our nice neighbour knocked at the door. She went to open it and Slinky went along to see what was happening. When he saw it was his owner he ran upstairs. Now our neighbour is very nice, and is not a cat abuser or anything, but how must she have felt to see her expensive pet hiding from her? I feel very bad about it, but cats just go where they want to. You don't really have a choice about it. My old cat, Gilbert, always used to hang out with some elderly neighbours and just come home to vomit up the liver they fed him.

Slinky has settled into a nice routine now we have given up on throwing him out. He insists on sleeping on, and in our bed, and I was very glad of this last night, as the house was still very cold. I am one of those weird people who chucks out a load of heat at night, and Slinky, love him, never complains.

I am also very pleased with Tony Blair today. In my simple little world, I think that he is setting a good example for once. He's also grabbed a load of business for Britain which I'm not quite so sure about.

I have also liked reading 'Jarhead' by Anthony Swofford (***), but nothing else I've read recently has really grabbed my attention. I still haven't taken those silly 'Bible Code' books back to my colleague yet, as I still don't know what to say about them without offending her.