Tag Archive: progress


Just an Excuse

Friday 13th is just an excuse to lumber us with two Mondays in the one week. It’s a dastardly plan, one at each end. You suffer Monday, survive the rest of the week, slide down Humpday just to get back to Monday, its a cruel joke.

Yesterday, Fri 13th, was definitely a Monday. My trip to visit The Door was badly planned. I had not given any thought to this damned Rock in Rio and the access roads, which also happen to be main arterial routes, being closed. The traffic was mayhem.

benedictineGot my pay, eventually and went shopping. Found a bottle of Benedictine, of which I am partial, after I had already selected my customary two bottles of wine. Nearly choked on the price, R$134, that’s equal to five bottles of my normal wine price range. But such a rarity here that I couldn’t resist. Temptation is a terrible mistress.

I’ll be making a B&B later. Brandy and Benedictine, love the stuff.

Last night I was walking past the cocktail cabinet with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and ice, when I spied my bottle of Frangelico, couldn’t help but splosh in a generous measure. Quite pleasant, a new cocktail is born – The Orange Monk.

Cloro has pregressed… yes, from cockroaches to dragonflies. One flew into the house last night creating a terrible racket around the light. This was not missed by the ever-alert Cloro who was immediately transported to an intense state of the curious. For an hour his cute little head jerked to and fro following this strange apparition, until it flew too low, and that was the end of the story; one waggle of the feline hunter buttocks, pounce. I was lucky that he didn’t want to take it to bed, instead we slept together on the inner roll of the toilet paper. I don’t think I have ever done that before, it certainly wasn’t on my bucket-list.

Not Amora, but there wasn't a Blueberry image

Not Amora, but there wasn’t a Blueberry image

Throughout my life I have heard of the American passion for blueberries, jams, pies and the like. Last week searching the supermarket shelves for marmalade, I saw a jar of blueberry jam. Must try, said I.

The price was high, but one must splash out on little luxuries occasionally. R$10…

I must say, I wasn’t impressed. I’ve had it on toast twice now and would have preferred amora (blackberries) or black currant.

I won’t be rushing to buy it again; this is a oncer.

I am not impressed by Twitter’s latest move to be listed on the stock exchange. It piques me to think that other people will get financial benefits of the gullible Twits. I am seriously thinking of chucking it in. I have to get my head around it before making a decision. For me the internet is more of a hobby, and to think that other rich bastards are going to get richer on MY hobby more than miffs me.

Hot day promised, 34°C (94°F), I think that beer will be the order of the day.

Off to put more in the fridge.

Later.

Not a bright moment

It didn’t actually happen, although, I was looking for the corkscrew…

I had grabbed a bottle of St. Germaine Assemblage (Cuvée), whipped off the foil cap, and went to look for my corkscrew. Then it dawned on me that in my haste I hadn’t noted it had a screw-top. It was the first that I had seen on a bottle of wine; so I could have been excused if I had.

If I had really been in a hurry, dying of thirst, maybe I could well have fallen into this diabolical trap.

It also got me to thinking… WTF is wrong with a cork?

Recently many corks have been replaced by a spongy cork-coloured blob; and I thought that was cheap. Now there is screw-tops, nah, I have resolved not to buy a screw-top bottle of wine again.

I am a traditionalist. I don’t take to changes kindly. I like things the way were. There is very little in this world that is classed as ‘progress,’ that I find is actually better than it used to be. In the main, technology is a crock o’shit! ‘Progress’ really means, “we have found a faster, cheaper, more lucrative way to do something.” It doesn’t matter if you are talking about screw-tops on wine bottles or shoes. Show me a pair of shoes that lasted as long as the ones did 40 or 50 years ago. See, cant. When my mother bought shoes, they lasted until we grew out of them, then they were passed on to my little brother, and they lasted until he grew out of them, then they were passed on to cousins or neighbours. But today, I have to buy a pair of shoes each year, whether they were grown out of or not; they are in tatters.

Generally goods are designed to last only until the guarantee has expired, then you find they can’t be fixed, because the part that broke, collapsed, burnt-out, etc is only available to the manufacturer; you can’t buy it. You are forced to buy a new one. It doesn’t matter if you are talking about LCD monitors or cars, the result is the same. We are being held ransom by the corporations to buy, buy, buy, spend, spend, spend, simply so they can make more money. I am not complaining that a company or business has to make money; I am complaining about the abusive way they do it.

1950 Rotrax JAP Speedway, National Motor Museum Monorail in Beaulieu - Photo from Wikipedia

In the 1920s there were motorcycle engines designed by John Alfred Prestwich (JAP), they were used in AJWs and Cotton motorcycles, as well as early aircraft and cars like the Morgan. They came in many sizes, including  500cc and 600cc single cylinder for motorcycles. Fifty years later (1970s) these engines were still being used on the world’s speedway track at World Championship levels, by riders like Barry Briggs, Ronny Moore, etc. Then the advent of the Japanese engines (not to be confused with JAPs) as used by Ivan Mauger and the newer champions. These engines didn’t last five years. The newer engines simply weren’t the same quality.

The world is really in a sorry state. I wrote about the social fabric becoming threadbare this morning on a post Cotton Wool Culture. It’s about parenting, but more importantly it’s about kids and the way ‘progress’ has kept them from nature, the outdoors producing a pack of wimps and sooks.

Homemade, not bought

Right now, I am thinking about lunch. Weinerschnitzel. Homemade, not bought. I refuse to buy things like this in the supermarket. There are two reasons, firstly, you have no idea of the quality of the meat, secondly, it’s so easy to make it at home.

To prepare schnitzel at home takes you all of five minutes. It takes you nearly that long to open a supermarket pack.

I usually buy a slab of rump steak. From it I cut my own schnitzels and inch thick steak, so I know the quality of the meat. I’m having mine today with salad (to use leftovers) and fried whole garlic cloves. I know you’re probably thinking “Oh the bafo de alho!” Garlic breath… but garlic cooked like this doesn’t have the same effect, even less so if you roast whole garlic bulbs.

Well, lunchtime…

Later.

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