I’ve got 6 different kinds of vinegar…
…but no potatoes, salad or salt,
10 different teas but no milk or sugar,
6 kinds of coffee but no clean cups or a cafetiere,
6 sorts of sweet spreadables but no bread products,
5 types of pickle (excluding mustards and sauces) but no cheese or crackers.
For the record they are:
Red wine, white wine, balsamic, onion, spirit and malt
Earl Grey, decaff, builders, lemon, green, rosehip, peppermint, jasmine, apple and lemon + ginger
Filter, decaff, instant, whisky, bags and Camp
Apricot jam, lemon curd, marmalade, blackcurrant jam, honey and raspberry jam
Branston pickle, bramble chutney, piccalilli, plum chutney and green bean chutney
Perhaps I need to go shopping for a few less dependent consumables?
Camp ain’t what it used to be: I had a cup of Camp coffee today (admittedly made with water not milk) it was absolutely vile – I still can taste a beefy film lingering on my tongue ten hours later!
My childhood memories of chicory exoticism have all been washed away in that one cup – like the opposite of the Cud song Magic “it’s magic when you find on your tongue, a taste that reminds you of when you were young” – Camp is like anti-magic – I guess it’s moments like these that you realise the adage of never going back is probably true – there’s just too much to lose!
Note to self – never ever revisit: popping candy, HubbaBubba, hot marmalade mixed with cornflour and orange juice to make a delicious and nutritious post-school ‘drink’, rose petal perfume, gerbils and ball-bearings and dominoes in combined and complicated domino rallies, painted-shell snail racing, 24-hour Monopoly games with two boards configured in a figure of eight and complex rules about the double property stakes. Therein lies only disappointment.
My MySpace blog ends there – largely because I was a member of a local Samba band at the time and one of my co-drummers told me how much he’d enjoyed reading my thoughts. Even though I’d put it out there in a public domain, this felt weirdly intrusive and space invading – him knowing more about me than simply my ability to hold a two beat/four stroke action (or not as the case may be). And yet here I am again – for me, the desire/need/compulsion to write down and make sense of my everyday life is something that has always been a part of me. I’ve accepted that people reading what I write is a bi-product of their existence on a website; it also means I can never lose them hopefully – unlike the reams of minutiae-filled rotten diaries that haven’t quite survived the house move and therefore whose particular order of words will never be unleashed on a wider world – which is possibly for the best!