Flippin' 'Eck! I'm Still Going on About British Stuff!

I waited too long and the light was bad by the time I took this picture, but you can kind of get an idea of the color I plastered all over the kitchen wall. I really like it, but Husband is always more careful with his heart. We'll be trying some other colors before we come to a decision. Fortunately, one of my friends suggested some colors she has used in her house, and since they are in the right color family, I'll be checking those out and painting them on the wall.

I finished 12 pages of web text today. It took hours because I either had so much information it was a huge job to edit and turn into original content or too little information, which means I had to come up with something clever and marketable and related to whatever the website sells. My brain was sweating by the time I was finished. Well, it's a lady's brain, so it only perspired, of course. Delicately, and with ultimate feminine grace.

By the time I finished writing, I realized that the only thing I'd eaten all day was a chocolate chip cookie. No wonder my head was swimming. A quick meal of beans and cheese on toast fixed me right up. Some British things were never meant to be forgotten, and beans on toast is one of them, even if American baked beans are a world apart from British baked beans. I'm not saying one is better than the other, mind you. They're just different.

I remember buying cans of baked beans for 5 pence each and a loaf of bread for 20 pence at the grocery stores in England. When you're a poor missionary, that's a good, cheap meal. I ate a lot of beans on toast and rice with soy sauce during those months. I didn't know how to cook then. I also ate a lot of ramen noodles, but never the tomato flavored ones. I don't understand tomato-flavored ramen noodles. I may be judging an entire culture unfairly, but tomato-flavored ramen noodles are just wrong.

On the other hand, pickled onion-flavored potato crisps are so, so right!

In one of the areas I lived in, we used to pick blackberries from the wild bushes along the roadsides and apples from the tree in the backyard, which belonged to the people we lived with. We made pie with them. Doused in custard (another British culinary star), it was delicious.

I still use my knife and fork British style. It's so much more logical than the American style, which involves a lot of picking up and setting down of the knife. That's time wasted when you could be eating.

Well, let me get my old bones out of this rocking chair. I've been settin' a spell, and my fingers are just a-ramblin' on with all these memories.

P.S. When you say "tuna" in England, it always sounds like "chuna." Whenever I cook with tuna, I always see the face of the British missionary who pointed that out to me. I also see his face whenever I hear Prince on the radio. He really, really liked Prince.