Things You See In Canada That You Probably Wouldn't See In England (On 29th October), #1

I Get Some Music In The Post

It has been some weeks now since the French-Canadian veterinary research histopathologist and I dined with Jonny B in Montreal.

Readers of Jonny B's web-blog, Privatesecretdiary, will be aware that he is writing about his trip to Canada at the moment. It is OK (if you like that sort of thing), but I think that exploiting a whole country to make content for your blog is the lazy choice.

As anyone reading my own excellent web-blog will be aware, I do not write about Canada at all. Why? Because I am a really good blogger and Jonny B is a really rubbish one (despite having approximately 1,323% more daily readers than me), and he needs to draw on what is around him and what has happened to him for his content, whereas I just squirt interesting things out of my head like magic.

But I digress. We covered various interesting conversational topics that night, including "What is Little Chef?", "Why do French Canadian women have such enormous gums?" and "Is $20 a reasonable amount of money to pay for two chocolate crêpes?"; at one point, Jonny even said something that was both funny and clever completely by accident*.

But then it got weird, and they (the men) started reminiscing about dank teenage Saturday afternoons under the Jethro Tull duvet cover with nothing but the the triple gatefold cover of Yessongs for company, showing off to each other how many Peter Gabriel-era Genesis lyrics they knew.

The evening finally ended after a particularly unpleasant tussle over The Musical Box. Time passed. Days became weeks, and weeks became just under a month. Then an electronic mail arrived from Jonny suggesting that a parcel was on its way, sent with the sole intention of bringing me and veterinary research pathologist closer together as the long winter nights drew in. I thought it might have in it for e.g. some cocoa or an electric blanket, but no: for the parcel arrived today, and it it were some records:
























And now, dear readers, you must excuse me: for I am now off for some 'privit time' with Genesis and Jethro Tull. Thank you, Jonny, for keeping the love alive!!!

* "I wonder what a good analogy is like?"

Things You Hear People Say In Canada That You Probably Wouldn't Hear People Say In England, #2

There is a LADY pushing a trolley up to the checkout in the supermarket. In her trolley is a PUMPKIN that she has plucked from the PUMPKIN PILE that is outside the supermarket*.

The PUMPKIN takes up the entire trolley; it is in fact a miracle that she could get it in there in the first place. I wonder if she lifted in there herself, or whether she used a forklift truck.

She hefts the PUMPKIN in the trolley parallel with the lady at the checkout. She says to the lady,

"I wanted a bigger one, but I couldn't see any. Are there any more coming in the week?"

I look about me. Everyone else in the supermarket has a pumpkin. I do not want one though. I think that is because I am English, not Canadian.


* This is not a joke. The pumpkins are stacked up around a gigantic tractor, a tractor that would need a stepladder to get into.

Things You Hear People Say In Canada That You Probably Wouldn't Hear People Say In England, #1

"November'll be here soon. Time to put the snow tyres on. For the snow."

I Touch My Birthday Present

It was my birthday!!! This fact did not go unnoticed by you, my loyal and adoring readers, and I thank you from the heart of my bottom for the cascade of good wishes and amusing 'comments' that have squirted my way in the last few days.

But this flood of online adoration aside, the day itself (in 'real time!!!) was grate, what with best friend, best friend's husband, their (attractive, well-behaved, therefore possibly not human) baby of 5 months, the veterinary research histopathologist with whom I share my life (and fleas), with a passing appearance by:

a) MonkeyFather; and
b) MonkeyMother,

...both of whom are WELL KNOWN to readers of this 'web-blog', particularly b) MonkeyMother who often provides 'pithy' and/or 'witty' comments in the comments box(es) (MonkeyFather is known mainly for his Genesis-related comments).

A number of presents* were showered upon my grateful head, all of which were either beautiful or useful (and many of which were both). But it was only upon our return from holiday that I received the 'pièce de résistance': something I have dreamt of owning for years and something that, only now, is glistening on my worktop (as it were!). It is a KitchenAid mixer, and it looks like this:













I have already used it to mix the dough from the miraculous bread recipe that everyone should use unless they are idiots who hate bread and do not have an oven; I am feverishly searching the Google for recipes that might help me use up the 18 eggs we appear to have in the refrigerator; I am gently fingering the already dog-eared pages of the 'recipe booklet' that comes with it, but I am - I must confess - a little intimidated.

What now?!! Come now, adoring readers: demonstrate your love for me by 'sharing' (not like that!!!) your own favourite KitchenAid recipes. It crouches in the kitchen, hungry, weighty and ready for action, and I crouch by its side, also hungry, weighty and ready for action.




* Not 'gifts', I beg of you. This is not Surbiton, and I do not have Christmas cards printed with my address inside.