Lunatic lessons.

Posted by Jeni in Ad Infinitum | 10 April 2012

So, as always, I woke up two minutes before the alarm. I set one on my Bose clock radio over on his side of the room and one on my Cube radio next to my bed. When they go off together I have perfect quadrophonic sound. Although having John Humpries steriophonically assaulting you at sparrows fart is not always a good thing.

By 7.03 I was already underway with my ablutions. Gods Gift has gone back to dancing in Northampton, the dawter has gone back to singing in Bethnal Green so my cottage has no washing lying around, no piles of ironing and no food in the fridge.

Luvverly.

Got into my little red car, smelt the fresh, moist, loamy air and settled into my seat. I travelled light. Car keys, debit card and my red lipstick. Having cut off the end of my dalmation dungarees I had to tread carefully as they are now threadbare and disgusting, I now have the perfect excuse to buy myself a new pair from Washington DC.

I drove gently to the all day car park. Put in £4.00 and walked slowly to the train station. Bought one ticket to get me to London and one ticket to get me home again. The London bound ticket cost me £18.80. the return £11.30, although had I travelled later it would have cost me £5.90 with my Senior Rail Card and my Freedom Pass. Why workers are penalised for getting to work on time is beyond me.

The train sat in the dock as all of us early birds boarded.

A very tall man, from New Zealand, with tinny music pouring out of his earphones sat next to me, tapping away on his PC as his huge Kiwi thigh pressed against my aging cellulite.

When my newspaper accidentally tilted over his screen he swatted it away like it was a bluebottle. I thought twice about remonstrating with him as his huge thigh jiggled, aggressively,up and down. I breathed away my frustration. Arrived into Waterloo East by 9.00 and happily my ticket worked in the barrier to get me to Clapham Junction.

Old stomping ground. Platform 9-10 my stopping off point for the flat. Past the coffee kiosks and out towards the flower stall. Over the road and down Northcott Road past the right wing florist and the sexy bread seller. A right on Broomwood Road then left at the top towards Wansdworth Common. Left down Blinkhorne Street, by the wooden fencing, and then past the grandest houses you have ever seen. Greys and stone painted,Venetian blinds and hand clipped gardens. Houses that are so well maintained and trendy they are worth at least the Gross National Product of Chad.

Left onto Nightingale Lane and into my acupuncturists serene flat.

I lay on her couch as she cupped my back, needled my brain and stabbed my eyes.

I felt terrific afterwards. The pain in my back diminished, not completely gone, but certainly less.

Carefully descended her stairs, let the big door click to a close then right up the hill towards Clapham South tube.

When I opened my eyes I was lying prostate on the ground, my left knee ripped to hell and my pride dented. A cyclist stopped and let out a gasp of pain on my behalf.

'I'm alright, really I am.' I said.

Then hobbled over the road and plonked myself down on a pubs wall. The shock hit me and I cried, naturally. I had just had a deep acupuncture session and had splatted myself on the road. I would have been mad not to cry.

I cried. Huge baby tears that blubbed their way down my face. Every time I thought about hitting the deck my body went into shock. My acupunturist, having telephoned her, told me that she had worked on me internally so the treatment would not be affected.

That was a relief then.

Took the tube to Leicester Square and repeatedly peeked at my knee. It looked like it did when I was seven years old, always falling off my bike or roller skates, and scraping my legs until they looked like they had been pebble dashed. Which in a manner of speaking they had.

Walked to HELIOS Homoepathic pharmacy in New Row. Covent Garden did its trick. People and smiles and new air in New Row. Bought a bottle of COLLOIDAL SILVER to bathe my eye three times a day - lets hope this one works, then set off to Archer Street, behind LES MIS, to have my hair cut.

PIERREPOINT is owned by Dan the man with the scissors. He cut, washed, coloured and blew my hair into a style that reflected my age and personality. So now I really do look younger than 63 but older than mutton dressed as Kleftiko.

Walked slowly - real slow actually - to Charing Cross, bought a bag of nuts, a long brown baguette with tomatoes mozzarella and basil and a medium sized mug of hot chocolate. Took my seat on the 2.45 train to Hastings and dug into my carrier bag of new books.

I had wandered into Watkins Book Shop, the best esoteric book shop in town - and it aint just me that thinks so - and bought a book on the moon, a book on Kabbalistic astrology and Erkhart Tolle's 'THE POWER OF NOW' to replenish the ones I've given away.

Forty five minutes later I was in Tunbridge Wells. My knee less bloody, my hair shorter and my arms longer from a bag of books.

Collected my car which I had parked next to a tub of spring pansies, all purple and yellow and proud in their velvety glory and drove home.

I've spent the last hour on the telphone booking tickets for two shows at The National, booking a facial, booking my MOT, booking a session with my osteopath to put my broken body back together again and booking myself into Jims armchair for an hours worth of telly tonight.

I have three writing ideas which, according to my book on the moon, next week is a good time to start. If I want to lose weight however, I must wait for the moon to go barren in Virgo which won't be until September.

I'm not sure I can wait that long, if I don't start eating proper before September I may well turn into an obese lunatic. Which indeed is exactly what the book is about. Lunatic activity.

I could have written it myself....

Jeni Barnett tells of her scrumptious time at Good Food Live in her first audiobook! Download NOW from iTunes

Comments

1. At April 10, 2012 10:33 PM LV wrote:

OUCH, my knee hurts in empathy! Please give it lots of tlc.
Erkhart Tolle - a great spiritual master. That book has to be read at least once. More pieces of the puzzle click every time you read it. And Good Fridays full moon was a 'pink' moon. Potentially giving rise to all kinds of antagonism! They all do in my opinion.

RHIANON, Yes, thank you i'm definitely up for your belter receipe. I'm not into fancy cooking but i enjoy baking. I'm quite good with cakes - especially the eating part. And a bit of what you fancy in moderation is good for you. Well.. that's what i like to tell myself!
Love Light LV
...

2. At April 11, 2012 4:27 PM Lindy Fleetwood wrote:

Ouch ! ouch ! ouch!! goodness that must have hurt. But as per usual up you bounced and carried on,why? because yes you CAN CAN !! Love and gentle hugs from me xxhugxx and gentle soppy lickety licks from B x

3. At April 11, 2012 6:28 PM eleonor wrote:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=egF-rEkYu_o

how about that?
shocking

they forgot to mention new Isis monument at hyde park, near diana's

4. At April 11, 2012 7:45 PM Pam Sickelmore wrote:

Hi Luvly Lady

Have just been going throughout some of my downloaded conversations with you on LBC - I do wish you were still there, you brought such a wonderful energy - and I miss you.

I now have an 8 month grandaughter and my work in autism has taken off - that with the allotment ......!!!!!

I am still running in parallel to you in so many ways - age, experiences etc - 'cept you look fab. I had a luscious lady in duty free in Paris tell me that the cream I wanted and love, was for the first signs of ageing and therefore I should try something else - not a clever thing to say to me!

Don't try and loose too much weight - I love the way you look and your passion for food

lots of love

Pam (from Molesey) - autism/allotment xx

5. At April 12, 2012 8:15 AM Rhianon wrote:

Here you are, L.V. i made them for the mother of a lady I work with. We were in Saundersfoot last year and there was a food festival on. I bumped into Caroline from work with her Ma. She was fancying the brownies, which were open on the table. I said not to buy them as countless people had been coughing, wheezing and pawing over them for hours. Put her right off. I felt a bit guilty, so I made her a tray of these!

Brownies for Carolines Mother.


• 250g butter
• 200g dark chocolate broken up
• 85g cocoa powder, sifted
• 60g plain flour, sifted
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 350g caster sugar
• 4 large eggs


Preheat your oven to 180°C/350°F/gas 4. Line a 25cm square baking tin with greaseproof paper.
In a large bowl over some simmering water, melt the butter and the chocolate and mix until smooth. Add cherries, nuts etc if you’re using them, and stir together. In a separate bowl, mix together the cocoa powder, flour, baking powder and sugar, then add this to the chocolate mixture. Stir together well. Beat the eggs and mix in until you have a silky consistency.

Pour your brownie mix into the baking tray, and place in the oven for around 35 minutes, depending on how squidgy you want them. The brownies should be slightly springy on the outside but still gooey in the middle. Allow to cool in the tray, then carefully transfer to a large chopping board and cut into chunky squares.

Sometines I melt 100 g of extra chocolate with the butter, but thats just me. It makes the brownies squooshier, but really nice. Hope you enjoy them.

6. At April 12, 2012 9:49 PM LV wrote:

THANKS Rhianon, they do sound lush. I'll let you know how they turn out when i make them. I think the tricky part is going to be not to make a pig of myself!
Love Light LV
...

7. At April 13, 2012 5:56 PM Adrian Appley wrote:

Hello Jeni,
I have not forgotten you but I bet you have forgotten me,
Adrian from Bromley.

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