Grannymar

‘Love your spunk, Grannymar. You do us (older ladies) proud!’

So wrote Hoof Hearted in America as a comment to Un-Christmas Shopping a post last week where I mentioned a problem while food-shopping at a Supermarket.

I digress for a moment to draw your attention to an article from ABC News Creative Consumer: How to Protect Your New Gifts posted on Christmas Eve. If you are not sure of your rights then take a moment to read it.

Now back to Taking on the Big Boys. I have two tales to tell and they are both connected with this time of year. I will tell one now and save the other for tomorrow.

Jack, my late husband retired from work in 1985. He spent most of his working life as a sales rep for a well known American food company. Part of a small team here in Northern Ireland, his territory crossed the religious divide. ‘Krafty’ as he was known to some customers, was well liked wherever he went and he could sell Oil to Arabs or Ice to Eskimos as if it was the ‘newest must have’ or latest invention! His sales figures were legendary in the company.

After retirement he received, as I still do, a Christmas card signed by the Vice President and Area Director of the company. About 10 days before the holiday a parcel would arrive addressed to my husband, it contained a small food hamper suitable for one person. Items included a small bar of fruitcake (un-iced), and a single portion sized Christmas pudding, packet of three cheese biscuits, tiny tins of ham, tongue, pâté, fruit cocktail & custard. The only normal sized items were box of Fruit Jellies, a stick of Cracker Barrel Cheese and a tub of Vitalite.

Year one everything was fine and edible.

Things changed over the next couple of years and recognisable brand names were replaced by ones unheard of. Elly was a young school girl and was fascinated by the idea of the miniature pudding. It required TWO hours steaming……now that I objected to. After about four years I got cross. Jack was out to lunch with some friends one day and not being a person fond of waste I decided to make a sandwich and use the tin of ham. I opened the tin and was unable to slice the meat; it was as tough as shoe leather. The tongue was no better and the cake slab went to crumbs when it saw the knife. It was only possible to eat it with a spoon, and it tasted like sawdust.

That night when Dinner was over and bedtime story told, I sat to the table with note paper and a pen.

“What are you doing Darling?” asked Jack.

“I am writing to complain about the quality of the food hamper!” I replied.

“You can’t do that, Pet.” He said. “It was a gift.”

“Oh! But I can!” I said. “Don’t worry I will let you read the letter before I post it!”

Jack went back to his book and I concentrated on my composition. I addressed the letter to the Vice President and Area Director, by Name. Well why not he was the person who signed the Christmas card a couple of weeks earlier!

I began by thanking the kind gentleman for the card and gift of a food hamper to my husband each year since he retired, saying how nice it was to still be remembered as part of the Company family. I reminded him of all his fine words over the years about my husband’s impressive sales figures, and of the fact that all retirees were not living alone. The ‘Hamper for One’ was an insult to the effort to produce those sales figures, and to the wives who washed the shirts, helped and supported the men (sorry girls) working and travelling at times in very difficult situations, particularly in Northern Ireland.

Then I put the ball in his court. I said people were reluctant to complain about a gift particularly at Christmastime. I told him that we did not live on Caviar and fillet steak everyday, but I did manage to produce nutritious edible and tasty meals on a daily basis. I went on to describe the hamper contents as above. I mentioned that the gift we received was perhaps not the gift the company was paying for, but that if it was, then perhaps it was time for the Company to consider sending the money directly to Charity. I finished by wishing him personally and all the staff, good wishes and successful sales figures for the year ahead.

“Right love” I said handing the letter to Jack.

“You are really going to send that?” said Jack.

“Why not, it is the truth?” I said.

“Go ahead then, but you will never hear from them!” Jack said.

I addressed, sealed and stamped the letter before walking down to the local post box with it.

About a month later a letter addressed to me with the company logo popped through the door. It was an apology from said VP for the delay in replying to my letter. He had been away from the office for several weeks and was only beginning to deal with correspondence. He thanked me for taking the time to write and he was very interested in what I had to say. He promised to look into the situation and get back to me.

Well he did get back to me and as a result of my letter, changes were made. All the company pensioners received Food Gift Vouchers every year since. They are a much better idea as they can be used in many Food Retailers and are valid until the end of April.

Now that is enough for today. I have a smelly story for Part 2

I am not expecting to cook a Turkey this year.

No doubt before the big day I will have the opportunity to have a turkey lunch and that will do me thank you!

You may intend to cook and serve a super Bird for your family or friends so I thought I might share a favourite recipe with you.

It will take longer than the more usual recipe but I guarantee that you will never taste another bird like it.

1. Go buy a Turkey.
2. Take a drink of Whiskey.
3. Put Turkey in the oven.
4. Take another two drinks of Whiskey.
5. Set the degree at 375 ovens.
6. Take three more Whiskeys of drink.
7. Turn oven on.
8. Take four Whisks of drinkey.
9. Turk the bastey.
10. Whiskey another bottle of get.
11. Stick a turkey in the thermometer.
12. Glass yourself another pour of Whiskey.
13. Bake the Whiskey for four hours.
14. Take the oven out of the turkey.
15. take the oven out of the turkey.
16. Floor the turkey up off the pick.
17. Turk the carvey.
18. Get yourself another Scottle of botch.
19. Tet the sable and pour yourself a glass of turkey.
20. Bless the saying, pass and eat out.

Years ago a friend of mine prepared this recipe for his annual Christmas drinks party. The fact that I am unable to partake of this dairy products overload does not prevent me from sharing it with you.

Enjoy!

While you are sipping, why not share a favourite of yours.

Egg Nog

6 eggs separated

¾ pint double Cream

¾ pint Milk

½ pint Brandy

3 tblsps Rum

6 ozs Sugar

Nutmeg

Beat the egg whites until almost stiff enough to hold peak. Add sugar gradually, beat until stiff but not dry. Beat the egg yolks until thick. Stir in milk, brandy, and rum and blend well.

Whip the cream until stiff and fold into egg-milk mixture. Fold in beaten egg whites. Keep chilled.

Sprinkle nutmeg on top when serving.

On Wednesday in The Bag Lady I wrote of how I manage to get along without a handbag.

This morning I read the following from Health Magazine:

Recent studies found that most women’s purses/handbags had tens of thousands of bacteria on the bottom and a few were overrun with millions. Another study found bugs like pseudomonas (which can cause eye infections) and skin-infection-causing staphylococcus bacteria, as well as salmonella and E. coli.

Reduce the risk: Instead of slinging your bag on the floor, hang it on a hook whenever possible — especially in public bathrooms — and keep your bag off the kitchen counter. Stick with leather or vinyl purses, which are typically cleaner than cloth.And to scare you even more…

If you’re not careful, you might pick up more than quick cash from your local ATM. These buttons have more gunk on them than most public-bathroom doorknobs! ATMs aren’t frequently cleaned, and are regularly touched — a perfect combination for a lot of germs.

Reduce the risk: Carry an alcohol-based hand sanitizer with you and rub it on hands after visits. Also be sure to do it after you handle paper money, which actually carries quite a few germs, too.

How many of you go straight from an ATM to a Fast Food Carryout?

A lady was walking down Grafton Street when she was accosted by a particularly dirty and shabby-looking homeless woman who asked her for a couple of Euro for food.

The woman took out her purse, produced €50 and asked, “If I give you this money, will you buy some chocolate with it instead of dinner?”

“No,” I had to stop chocolate years ago, the homeless woman replied.

Will you use it to go shopping instead of buying food?” the woman asked.

“No,” I don’t waste time shopping, the homeless woman said. “I need to spend all my time trying to stay alive.”

“Will you spend this at the Hairdresser’s instead of food?” the woman asked.

“Are you NUTS!” replied the homeless woman. “I haven’t had my hair done in 20 years!”

“Well,” said the woman, “I’m not going to give you the money. Instead, I’m going to take you out for dinner with my hubby and myself tonight.

The homeless Woman was astounded. “Won’t your hubby be furious with you for doing that? I know I’m dirty, and I probably smell pretty well disgusting.”

The woman replied, “That’s okay. It’s important for him to see what a woman looks like after she has given up shopping, hairdresser appointments, and chocolate.

While listening to Woman’s Hour on BBC Radio 4 this morning I discovered this mind blowing titbit. ‘The average person spends 31 years dieting’. That is more than half the time I have spent on this earth. I would hate to be restricted to say – cabbage for one week and pineapple the next. I am far too fond of my food for all that rubbish. My mother believed that we should clear our plates and with the food she cooked we had no bother complying.

I remember one school day as lunchtime approached and our thoughts turned to hot food and going home (mind you in those far off days we called it dinnertime) my chum asked me what day it was. She knew by the day of the week what was on the menu at home. I thought that this was crazy because we never knew until we reached the front door and a ‘Bisto Kid’ style aroma met us and made us drool! Friday was the only exception when we had fish. This varied with the season and it was still a surprise for us. The only things we knew for certain were that Terry Wogan graced the airways of RTE on a Wednesday with Hospitals Requests or that the Kennedys of Castle Ross had a twice weekly spot.

During my early working life I discovered a colleague who lived with her parents and her mother dished up steak one day and chops the next. They were all she knew how to cook. My friend was the youngest of four and at least in her middle thirties. So her mother had only ever cooked two dishes for over forty years!

Back on the topic of diets then… Recently I read where a lady was Slimmer of the Year’, not sure whether it was Weight Watchers or Uni-Slim. This woman had lost NINE STONE (126lbs). That is as much as I weigh! Imagine losing a whole person!! I am only 130lbs now even after gravity, child birth, and the ravages of time have taken their toll. Dairy products do not agree with me but apart from that I eat everything put in front of me, especially when at The Cellar Restaurant, in Ballycastle. Just ask my Sin-in-Law if you don’t believe me.

So I am not average. Mind you I never was. I was a size ‘0’ long before it was thought of. Unlike today I was rather ridiculed for being so thin, sorry skinny was the word used. I was called drip-dry, drink of water and much worse as I grew up. Later after I married my husband told me many times that my muscles were like sparrows kneecaps! This he did with a twinkle in his eye and never meant any harm. We were able to laugh both with and at each other on many an occasion.

I feel sorry for young girls today where TV, cinema and magazines all portray the skeletal figure as beautiful. There is nothing beautiful about it at all. A few curves are so much better, more cuddle-able, make clothes hang well and I can tell you keep you warmer in this very cold weather.

Right middle age spread I am ready and waiting…