health vs happy

I have things to say.  I hope I don't run out of oomph before I have spilled all my beans.

I'll start with my birthday.  I LOVE my birthday, I really do.  There is no dread at being older (it now kind of just hangs there anyhow on a permanent basis) and the approach of it is a thrill as ever.  I don't do anything wild and wonderful - I just get a buzz out of knowing it's my special day, and feeling as if I can justify any naughty thoughts or deeds for that day.  We are not talking about planning murders or mugging old ladies here, just giving in to utter sloth and greed if the mood takes.  Just for one day.  So, here I am post pressie opening:

And I stayed there, in pretty much the same position (without the inane grin it has to be said) just lolling and reading for another couple of hours.  Then, quelle horreur, the flea stuff came in the post.  Darn it.  We have a flea issue at the moment, with Oliver and Mark getting bitten loads and visible fleas (bleeurgh) being seen on our actual persons at various points.  I have vacuumed and changed bedding and blobbed chemicals on the cats and then some, but still the blighters persist.  So I ordered some kill or cure spray over the internet to 'do' the house, and it bloody well came on MY special day.  So I had to do the flea deed.

Never let it be said I don't know how to celebrate. 

I got given these by Oliver,

who knows all about my personal problem with Maltesers.  I only have them on high days and holidays, because I scoff them in handfuls.  Really.  A whole box at a time.  I can't get enough of feeling them melt in my mouth into a large oozy ball of choc and honeycomb.

Dribble.

Transpires I have actually consumed over a kilo of Maltesers in just under 4 days.  I dare not buy another one until Christmas or I may just have to start attending a support group.

In the evening we went for an Italian meal.  Again, a low key thing, and very us.

So on to food. 

Raw food.

I read an article (a term used loosely here, as this is Reveal magazine I refer to) at the weekend about Kate Middleton/Duchess of Cambridge eating raw food once a week 'to keep her trim' or whatever trite bollocks they said.  This interested me as I have heard about raw food eating before, and been amazed that anyone in full possession of their faculties would choose to eat this way.  However, it clearly MUST be good for you - all those enzymes and stuff, and surely it would be easy to do just once a week??

And I would feel all aglow with inner energy and my insides would be all clean, pink and sparkly.

So, armed with a little knowledge (always a dangerous thing when it enters my head) I trotted out to spend the best part of £60 on fruit, salad, seeds and tahini.

On Tuesday I ate nothing but raw foods.  I think it fair to say that this must be the first time in my entire life that I have had a chemical free 24 hours.  It wasn't as easy as I thought, I felt permanently hungry and desperate for the comfort of a cup of tea or coffee.  I was glad to see my bed at the end of the day, I don't my telling you.  On Wednesday I awoke to the feeling that I had a massive hangover, probably due to chemical withdrawal.  Never being one to push through the pain barrier, I gave in immediately and had a coffee.  I just don't possess the desire to go through caffeine withdrawal, as in all likelihood I will not give it up for the rest of my life anyhow. 

This experiment left me feeling a bit bothered really.  I am quite convinced that the best way to eat is the wholesome brown rice and sandals way, but it is just so NOT a lifestyle that I want to embrace.  I read about Susan Jane White over on The Coffee Lady's blog.  So interesting, and quite, quite understandable that eating like this would cure your body of all ills. 

However.

My quandary is that it seems to be all or nothing.  I really want to eat 'better', although I don't think my diet is bad anyway,  (lets just pop the wine, pizza, coffee and maltesers into pending for a moment), and I am still on the 5:2 way of eating, but the more I stray towards the wholefood shop, I worry that I my body will not straddle the gap between 'normal' and 'healthy'. 

I made up a batch of these, also something I picked up from The Lady of the Coffee.

They are pretty damn fine.  I haven't calorie counted them (I dare not) but they are low carb, and therefore a really good, healthy snack for Oliver.  On my 'raw' day I was popping them like sweeties, and even Mark likes them.  Sacre bleu.

Mind you, the first time Oliver ate one he made a face and said they tasted of 'health'.  But the minor grumbling I find I can tune out, so all is good.

I also threw a mini-tantrum at my hand blender which is shit, whistles like a dentists drill and doesn't so much blend as gather together in a dirty great clump - jumped in the car and drove up to Tesco to buy the food processor I have been making noises about for months.   Now my culinary life can really begin.  I can make stuff now like proper cooks.  So there. 

I made pesto for the first time with it.  Clever me.  Although I have discovered two whole cloves of garlic in a little bit of pesto is a bit too much for just Oliver and I.  We stank to high heaven, tasted nothing but garlic all day and Oliver complained his tongue hurt when he ate it.  Not a total triumph then.

I made these:

Which I think I have over-fruited and undercooked, so they are really wet and need to be eaten with a fork.  It is the foolproof recipe I got from my dear bloggy friend Mrs Thomasina Tittlemouse, and I have not yet buggered these up badly enough so they cannot be eaten. 

I got a good initial offer on 'Hello Fresh'.  They send you recipe cards, and all the fresh ingredients to make said recipes.  Because it only cost me £11, I plumped for the veggie option, as I am a lazy vegetarian cook.  These are the three recipes I got:

Interesting, as I have never cooked any of them before, and never would bother, so £11 well spent I think.  I should point out that I would have been less thrilled to receive this at the full price of £36, so I was very quick off the mark to cancel my subscription the second that this little lot arrived. 

I shall let you know how it goes.

And to finish, some piccies of our weekend in the Isle Of Wight.

A real live English village Fayre.  This was in St Helen's, where we were staying.  I kept expecting to hear a scream from the tea tent, and to see Inspector Barnaby rushing across to deal with an unexplained poisoning.  It was that sort of place.  Midomer St Helen's. 

Proper cars.

 



 

How I hate these things.  £3 for 6 minutes. 

 

Meh.

 Osborne House.  Queen Victoria's place.

 

And very nice too.

 

 

Thanks for tuning in.