Wednesday, January 17, 2007

HOME THOUGHTS FROM ABROARD

It is silly to try and keep things as they used to be. Traditions and places and folk were never what they used to be anyway. However for exiles it is OK to be silly sometimes. It has been 30 years now away from the UK. Do I miss certain things? Oh yes I do.

Marmite and similar essentials get sent to me so I cannot complain there. But fish and chips within a newspaper dripping with vinegar and mixed with salt is dearly missed and i must try to stop smelling and thinking about it if I am to remain sane.

Mushy peas --- Oh dear me, another lusty sin of mine that is missed. Mushy peas with mint sauce. Damn it i have just had an orgasm. Forgive me.
Pubs in North Wales on a Friday night when the locals sang and I dared not open my mouth to sing with them. They were beautiful even if many suffered from mines and abuse from profiteers. Oh how they sang. Shivers down me spine and a beauty beyond measure. Keswick in winter time ......... walking legless across to Wasdale .... and ...

24 comments:

Anonymous said...

What about you missing those little adventures with the "Convent girls"?

Anonymous said...

Mushy peas, Zola? I red about that in history books. Word is, the stuff looked bit like guacomole. These days, we are one big cosmapolotan caff society. No one has to count the greasy spoons no more. Aintcha herd?

zola a social thing said...

Damn it another nail in me coffin.
What about the mint ?

Anonymous said...

Mint? We is all making it, Zola, dats wot. We is filthy rich as well as well cultchered now. Innit.

zola a social thing said...

Dunno

zola a social thing said...

But I would like to know who knows about those convent girls !!!!

Anonymous said...

LavendeBlue ?

Anonymous said...

I miss scones.

And why is it impossible to buy houmous in Germany but you can get it everywhere in the UK?

Houmous is not exactly a British national dish is it?

Anyway. What do the Finns eat this time of year?

Also soggy Dutch tomatoes?

zola a social thing said...

Finns eat anything they can get in wintertime.
Fuckin cold up here right now it is.

Soggy toms? Umm. Might mix well with mushy.

Anonymous said...

Welsh mountains, yes.
Some Welsh pubs wouldn't let women in on a Sunday.
some bloody welcome .
Keswick,huh?
Rain.Rain.Rain.

zola a social thing said...

A bath with soggy toms?
and Roses?
With a heater....
and ...

Anonymous said...

NeuRoses?

Anonymous said...

New Labour, NeuRoses.

You weren't, by any chance, LB, the only woman in the village?

Anonymous said...

The only one who complained bitterly,Bwi.........
and certainly that was the end of that 'affair'.

Anonymous said...

Neuroses are red and Lavender was blue in the face. Good on yer.

Anonymous said...

Maybe she should have complained midly or even lagerly?.
End of problem.
Alimentary my dear Tetley.

zola a social thing said...

Mildly?
Ok I'll lav another.

Anonymous said...

After 12 years away from the UK, what do I really miss? Marmite, yes, but I get that in Red Cross parcels. So no.

Er... next wuestion, please.

zola a social thing said...

Do you like tennis?

Anonymous said...

I don't like cricket.


I was walkin' down the street
Concentratin' on truckin' right
I heard a dark voice beside of me
And I looked 'round in a state of fright

I saw four faces, one mad; a brother from the gutter
They looked me up and down a bit and turned to each other

I say, I don't like cricket, oh no, I love it
I don't like cricket, no no, I love it

Don't you walk through my words. You got to show some respect
Don't you walk through my words, Cause you ain't heard me out yet

Well, he looked down at my silver chain
He said: I'll give you one dollar
I said: You've got to be jokin', man
It was a present from me mother'

He said: 'I like it, I want it, I'll take it off your hands
And you'll be sorry you crossed me
You better understand
That you're alone (a long way from home)

And I say, I don't like Reggae, no no, I love it
I don't like Reggae, I love it

Don't you cramp me style, Don't you queer me pitch
Don't you walk through my words, 'Cause you ain't heard me out yet

I hurried back to the swimming pool
Sinkin' Pina Colada
I heard a dark voice beside me say
Would you like something harder

She said: I've got it, you want it, my harvest is the best
And if you try it, You'll like it and wallow in a Dreadlock holiday

And I say, don't like Jamaica, oh no, I love her
Don't like Jamaica, oh no, I love her, oh yea

Don't you walk through her words. You got to show some respect
Don't you walk through her words, 'Cause you ain't heard her out yet

I don't like cricket, oh no, I love it (Dreadlock holiday)
I don't like Reggae, oh no, I love it (Dreadlock holiday)
Don't like Jamaica, oh no, I love her (Dreadlock holiday)

zola a social thing said...

I wear short shorts

Anonymous said...

" and his breath came in little short pants "

zola a social thing said...

Come on .....
Give me a break

Anonymous said...

http://darcysfeelit.blogspot.com/2006/11/without-boots-came-rapper.html

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