Nigella I Am Not

Hi there!

Gosh, a week goes by so quickly, time for another instalment of the latest goings on.

The house move arrangements continue a pace and our life has become a blur of solicitor's letters, forms and kitchen and bathroom brochures. It never fails to amaze me just how much information financial institutions want from you. I half expected the gentleman I was talking to to ask me for my inside leg measurement, the last time I had a bowel movement and my cup size. Whatever happened to the desire for us to live in a "paperless society"? We get guilt tripped everytime we have a paper bank statement but bombarded with piles of paperwork everytime we try to do something. Bizarre.

Having recovered from the previous embarrassment of the Viagra incident and with the burn on my bottom having healed nicely, I was hoping I could avoid trouble for at least a week. That was until I woke up this morning and discovered I was locked in my house. Yes, I know, most people lock themselves out of their houses, not in them. I realised to my horror that my house keys were locked in my car and I had no way of getting out. I decided to ring my husband who laughed. Very helpful.

He suggested I try going out of the back gate- sounded simple enough. However when I tried, the padlock was jammed. Our fences are quite high and for a moment I contemplated trying to make a jump for it. I then had a horrid premonition of me missing my footing, and being discovered hours later, being eaten by hedgehogs. It didn't appeal.

So I did the only sensible thing. I started to cry and called my Mum.

In the pursuit of being a good wife, I am trying to expand my repetoire of meals, which as it stands doesn't extend too far beyond baked beans on toast and spaghetti bolognese. I decided to try to attempt the ultimate nemesis. The roast dinner.

At 6pm the meat was ready and we each had a chicken leg. Dry of course, because I was paranoid about undercooking it and giving us both salmonella. Then at 6.10pm the roast potatoes were done. The vegetables followed at 6.30pm. After sieving the gravy I realised very little of it was salvageable. My husband tried to be very sweet about it but I had failed. How do people get everything ready at the same time?! I had lists and everything!!

Ahhhh well, perhaps experience and practise will make me quite the expert?!

Only time will tell...

Until next time.

Mrs Davies