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My Ken-induced madness
Nov. 23rd, 2008 06:49 pmI had two battles with zips today. I won one and lost one. The battle I won was with my rain jacket's zip, which caught some of the jacket fabric as it zipped up. It took a little while, but I managed to get it unzipped in the end. The battle I lost was with the zip on the lingerie bag that goes into the washing machine. I zipped it up and it somehow kept zipping, so that I ended up with a zipped bag in my left hand and the little zip puller-thing in my right. Buttons are far less feisty.
When my grandmother was a young housewife in the late forties, she filled an exercise book with hand-written recipes, being diligent about crediting each recipe's creator. My mother still uses this book for the Christmas pudding, but we were looking at it today and decided that, after sixty years of use, the book isn't going to withstand much more. So, decision: she will photograph the end product of any recipe she makes from it in the next year, then I will make her a new recipe book via Blurb (or similar). So she'll end up with a 'best-of' book filled with such delicacies as Elsie Palmer's Auntie Bertha's Plum Pudding, Joy Mahood's Lemon Cheese, Jean Pilkington's Pavlova, Helen's Very Nice Jelly Slice and (my favourite) Shortbread That I Make.
A while ago I wrote an entry about Barbie's friend, Ken, for reasons that escape me now. At the time I didn't document the full extent of my descent into Ken-induced madness, but I will now because I've been doing a spring clean on my My Documents folder and found my Ken spreadsheet. Oh, yes: there was a spreadsheet. I tracked all his incarnations from 1962 to 2002 and worked up a biography for him. Basically, he starts out in 1962-1964 as a medical student with an interest in sports and drama: he is a Campus Hero, Fraternity Member, Young Doctor, Sailor, Snow Skier, Tennis Player, Football Player and Actor. The world is at his feet! But then he disappears for three years between 1965 and 1967 with no explanation.
( No explanation that is, except for mine )
When my grandmother was a young housewife in the late forties, she filled an exercise book with hand-written recipes, being diligent about crediting each recipe's creator. My mother still uses this book for the Christmas pudding, but we were looking at it today and decided that, after sixty years of use, the book isn't going to withstand much more. So, decision: she will photograph the end product of any recipe she makes from it in the next year, then I will make her a new recipe book via Blurb (or similar). So she'll end up with a 'best-of' book filled with such delicacies as Elsie Palmer's Auntie Bertha's Plum Pudding, Joy Mahood's Lemon Cheese, Jean Pilkington's Pavlova, Helen's Very Nice Jelly Slice and (my favourite) Shortbread That I Make.
A while ago I wrote an entry about Barbie's friend, Ken, for reasons that escape me now. At the time I didn't document the full extent of my descent into Ken-induced madness, but I will now because I've been doing a spring clean on my My Documents folder and found my Ken spreadsheet. Oh, yes: there was a spreadsheet. I tracked all his incarnations from 1962 to 2002 and worked up a biography for him. Basically, he starts out in 1962-1964 as a medical student with an interest in sports and drama: he is a Campus Hero, Fraternity Member, Young Doctor, Sailor, Snow Skier, Tennis Player, Football Player and Actor. The world is at his feet! But then he disappears for three years between 1965 and 1967 with no explanation.
( No explanation that is, except for mine )