Its my dream, not his and LM moves out..

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It would appear, dear Readers, that LM wont be proposing to me anytime soon.  He has, in fact, decided to move out, so I shall cease the amount of days that I have been counting since we met and realise that fate has once again dealt me a crushing blow.


I am not entirely sure what was the final card ” we” dealt but suffice to say that he has decided to kip in the spare room now for 10 days and although he still puts his washing in the wash bin and uses ” our bathroom”, there seems to be no thawing.

It seems to be coupled with the fact that I had a dream which I wrongly assumed to be his also, but in fact it wasn’t.  As Number Two Son said, rather sagely, ” Mum, its our dream, not his!” and I take this as a small bit of comfort that the next part of my journey will be without him.

no 2 son

The dream I have is to remodel my Dad’s house on the beach.  It was an undertaking that I would have preferred to have taken with LM but as he isn’t about, I shall galvanise myself and do it alone.  As The Pilot said whilst communicating with me recently from Lusaka ( where he currently lives with his wife ! ) , ” Nanooka, take a deep breath; wipe your sword and move forward.  You are stronger than you think!” and with this printed off and stuck to the front of my PC I am, indeed, moving on.

project 3

Its certainly not a trip for the faint hearted.  I have sold my house and will have to either camp in a caravan on site for six months or rent somewhere.  Personally, I would prefer camping out on site, but the Architect says he would prefer NOT to have me there, because apart from the Builders having to work around me, they also don’t want to be responsible for losing any chickens; cats or dogs.   So I will be relegated to renting a home for a few months and planning my future.

I see me growing old disgracefully; drinking a Gin Sling on the Balcony and throwing stones at the passerbys. I am obviously destined to be single; batty and have a house full of animals and not men, but  with a wonderful view of the Channel and the twinkly Wind Farms, what’s not to like?  It will be ” The House that Jack, (re) built…)

Its a new adventure and I cant wait….




I recapture the castle and Curry is on the menu… again!

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Its that time of the year, again, when I do the Curry Lunch complete with either Bombay Blasters, or for the more lily livered, some Fluffy Ducks!  The last time I served Fluffy Ducks, someone queried it was a bit of a ” play on words!” but sadly, I’m not that clever. Its just some Advocaat; .Lemonade and fruit juice whizzed up.  In fact I think I published the recipe here a year or so back……

Curry Lunch is something I have been doing since The Pilot Days and its just a tradition that has continued.  Maybe not as grand as previously but certainly more fun.  We always have some great Curries; lots of “falling down juice”; a dress to impress code and of course the Empire Quiz.    The Empire Quiz is something we play between Courses.  It allows the Curry to settle before we bring the ice cream out.  Home made, of course.  The questions are becoming harder and harder, or probably just more obscure as we scour the history books and On line Quiz Sites for new and unbeatable questions.  LM always likes to take it seriously.  He says there isn’t any point in taking part if you don’t play to win.  I heartily second that and we always have great fun with the Men against the Ladies, don’t ya know…


I always like to get into character when we have a Curry Luncheon.  I used to ask the Indian Restaurant to pop over with the food and hang around to serve it up.  The thing is, they wanted to do it in black trousers and white shirts, but I wanted them resplendent in feather turbans and sashes and curled shoes and a dagger hanging from their belts.  The manager told me most of his staff came from Southall and so the nearest thing they had for a dagger hanging from their belt was when they went ” up town” on a Saturday night for protection.  That was not the image I wanted in my head but he relented and said that if I wanted to hire the costumes, he would get ” his boys” to wear them.  They only did it the once… the following year they insisted on the black dress code again.   I really don’t know why.  After all, who wouldn’t want to wear a black feather ( in their hat) with a faux ruby holding it all together.?  Boys from Southall, apparently!!

Anyway in the middle of all of the fracas of Empire Quizzes; Fluffy Ducks and what to wear I have carried out a bit of a coup.  The house had been looking slightly worse the wear for a month or so now and I did feel that Mrs C, the cleaning lady, was pushing her proverbial luck.  I had got used to the fact that she used to take everything out of my drawers and rearrange them and I accepted that if I wanted my rather nice Bohemian glassware on show, it would only be when she had gone home and I had got it out of the back cupboard again but when my bath had slowly, but very surely lost its shine, I knew something had to give.  Or as the Mitford’s Pa used to say ” its the thin end of the bloody wedge!”

Its true to say that it has only been one week since she left with a pout and a pirouette but its been better.  I am almost in Seventh Heaven that now when I clean my bath, it sparkles appreciatively back at me.  My glassware is exactly where I want it and even though I have put my back out , there isn’t any dust under the bed or behind the doors.  So I am vacuuming and washing floors with a bit of a spring in my step but no doubt will get fed up with it once I get tired; busy; overwhelmed or all three.  Meanwhile, Mrs C now has me on her “Hit List” and I am walking around the town avoiding her in case there is a showdown at five paces outside the French coffee shop.  Still, if nothing else I have found a pretty, albeit more circuitous way to dodge her bullets and cycle to work.  It adds another fifteen minutes onto a ride which normally took ten, but I am thinking its great for the lungs and keeps me away from the wrath of Mrs C.   I have also noticed that the Alpaca’s are calmer now and I did think that maybe her keep letting the chickens out to roam freely with the Alpacas and nip their toes wasn’t the best way for any animal to start their day. I think she was doing it in a fit of spite but she wouldn’t have it.

The chickens are roosting neatly in the Willow Tree and snacking on some Brussel Sprouts and the Alpacas don’t spit and snort so much now that they are not being attacked by Dora; Daisy and Dolly before the sun has even risen over the fence, let alone gone down over the yard arm.  Yes, peace reigns even in Animal Farm…..

Anyway the extra time it takes me to cycle each morning along the towpath and past the houseboats allows me to listen to my Binaural Beats and activate my higher self. Its such a great route and often quite magical, or it is to me.  If nothing else, the style of the houseboats always raises an opinion or six.  I am also getting to be quite a dab hand at working out Menus on the hoof and can now dictate into my phone when I think of a handy Menu as well as listen to the Binaural Beats  via my IPod.

Life is taking on a slightly calmer feel now and even though my hands resemble an attack of housemaid’s chapped fingers, ( due to using lots of bleach and chemical products to clean the house) I find that now I am chatelaine of my home again, it really is much more fun.   Now you will have to excuse me, I am just off to starch the napkins….





Security Forces and American Propaganda

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I did say that the Unaccompanied Minor was tricky.  And she is!  It didn’t take her very long to show her spots – stripes and probably even her knickers if she carries on the way she is.  As I am having to go away in January I need someone ( reliable) to look after the house.  I cant leave it and the animals in the car of those males who currently reside here. ( Aladene and Mohamed and on occasions, Number 3 son!)  The last time I went away, I left Aladene and Mohamed in charge.  That was a huge faux pas on my part and I lived to regret it.


Shebah Dog.  Please don’t lock my Dog Flap any more..


For some bizarre reason ( probably fear of being broken into) they locked the dog flap so Shebah Dog couldn’t get out.  She was so distressed at not being able to use the garden that she broke through the dog flap.  Hence for the remainder of my time away, she had to sleep in the dining room at night to keep warm and the kitchen was freezing cold due to the 2 foot square hole where the Dog Flap used to be. Why it didn’t occur to them to block it up or get a new one is beyond me, especially as they seem to have Amazon on permanent speed dial, or the equivalent thereof.   No longer did Mohamed have to worry about Buggerlars ( as he pronounces them) because you could just put your hand through the broken dog flap and turn the key in the back door and walk in.  Added to that I had, in some very weak moment, offered to look after Bruno whilst Tomasso was away in Rome during Christmas, and so it would mean taking care of Shebah Dog and another highly strung one, whose manner is so unusual and unpredictable that he should not be looked after by anyone under 25 years old.  A plan needed to be formed.


Bruno.  Our Christmas Guest


Anyway, I digress.  

So I asked Number 2 husband if he would mind coming over and House Sitting whilst I am away.  He doesn’t normally mind as he gives him a chance to do something new and catch up with old Buddies.  Yes, I know, I am very kind allowing him to pop over and crash here when he needs an escape.   I had written about him before when he appeared about a year ago and caused a bit of an upset with Husband Number 3 and Mary.

But as I need him now, I am happy to swallow my pride and let him back in…temporarily. I haven’t actually seen Mary since the incident last year and so the way things are going I should be able to permanently eliminate The Unaccompanied Minor in a matter of days. She has become more of a pain that I could describe and a lot of sucking of teeth has gone on both professionally and socially for some time now. She needs to “GO!”

For some reason she seems to think that Husband Number 2 is a rich Russian Oligarch rather than an Ex Pat living out the last of his days at the Yacht Club in Minsk with a wife thirty years younger .  He is guaranteed to either smoke or drink himself to death and when I asked him why he stayed there in the unending cold he replied, quite simply, that he was still free to smoke where he will.


Husband Number Two.  A life affair with women and tobacco


So the Unaccompanied Minor has said she would be happy to come over and help from time to time which means she has her eye on another man to fall under her spell. I have lost track of the amount of men who she has left in her wake and I see Husband Number Two not being any different.

Aladene and Mohammed aren’t overly pleased and were hoping for the house to themselves but I cant trust them because if I leave them alone, then their whole daily schedule goes to pot.  They used to think it was absolutely fine to go to bed at 3 in the morning and get up about mid-day.  I told them they were not in the Gobi Desert anymore and whilst in Rome ( or Shoreham by Sea to be exact) they would go to bed at a sensible time and get up by 08.00am. for Flight School  Of course Mohamed being somewhat of a “smartarse” told me that the Gobi Desert was actually in Mongolia and China and the nearest one to them was the Sahara.  I replied that I didn’t need a lesson in Geography and was actually only making a point, to which he replied ” is that the last one of the day you will make?”


Take your glasses over Mohammed. Its 10pm at night!


Talking of the two boys I asked if they would be joining us for Christmas Lunch or going home.  Flight School closes for 2 weeks and they often try to get home to see their family.  Mohammed is dreadfully homesick and wants to visit his girlfriend.  It would appear that he was engaged at 18 to some girl he had met twice and who lives in Benghazi.  As Mohammed lives in Sirte, you can work out how often they get to see each other even if the route is along the picturesque coastal route. ( He flies into Tunis and then drives over the border )  Aladene of course seems to be living under the radar, having had his passport confiscated by Lunar House but at the same time, they wont allow him to leave. Its been like that now for over three years.  His day to day life, however, is spent very much at liberty so I don’t think he is under the beady eye of MI5 and in fact has already applied there for a job in the Arabic Section.  Watch this space….

Talking of MI5, it would appear they are looking for Persian speakers and Farhad ( my sobbing partner) has also decided to apply.


A life long supporter of The Shah


He thinks its another way of overthrowing the Ayatollah and bringing back the Shah.  When I said that the Shah had been dead ( and buried) for many years and he knew that     ” very well” he smiled and said it was part of American propaganda and  once we had removed the ISIL threat, the Shah would be back on his throne and Persia would return to the Old Days.

Another person who really shouldn’t be holding his breath between now and then….although I do agree that life for ordinary people was probably a lot less restricted then, than now.

Number Two has text me to say he has just crossed over the Polish Border and will be in England, soon.  This will be interesting as it would appear he is just over 1 month earlier than I require him. I try to call him back but his phone is switched off.  Its a nuisance because I would have asked him to turn around and go back home.  Because he is such a heavy smoker he always drives from Minsk to us because he says he can continue to smoke.  He also says he enjoys the drive and can contemplate the world. For a guy who has never read anything heavier than the Daily Express, I guess you could say that was something of an oxymoron!  Oh well, I will just lay another place for lunch on Christmas Day.

STOP PRESS!!  Just received a text from Aladene.  It goes like this…..

” Thank you Mrs for the invitation to Christmas Day lunch.  When is it?”


Aladene, a very special person!


If he didn’t have such an angelic face, I would slaughter him!