Spaghetti Hoops and MRSA

Evening everyone. I was reminded today by avid reader, former housemate and absolute star Lucy Kightley that I haven’t blogged for a fair period. For those of you who were also aware of this, I salute you and I apologise...and I’m guessing you were looking for more reasons to procrastinate. I would provide you with some sort of excuse, but work, menial household tasks and Pokemon Black have all played their part. (At least I’m honest!)

Anyway, last week in an attempt to get fit for summer I bought a rowing machine, as my legs are built like Jonah Lomu’s but my upper body looks more like Mr Tickle. After a solid eight and half hours work in the office and the luxury of a home-cooked meal I endeavour to sort out our garage (to make space for said rowing machine). I’m not sure if any of you have a room in your house which accumulates junk, but in our house it’s the garage...and the conservatory...and the spare bedroom....but mostly the garage. To put it into some sort of perspective, it’s seen two skips in as many summers. If it was a virus, it would be MRSA. Mostly concentrated in one place; but spreads like a vicious rumour. 

The problem with our garage isn’t the old furniture or paint tins or garden equipment, it’s foodstuffs. I mean, tins of tuna, packets of pasta, bottles of squash, you get the gist. The reason for this is because our larder is quite small (taken up with food which went past its best before circa the Cheynobyl disaster, nevermind Fukushima) and so it’s migrated into the garage. 

I really wish I hadn’t started to be honest. I mean, in terms of being on the edge of a nervous breakdown, this was second only to the time where my dissertation was due in two weeks, I’d written 40 words and time was so precious I didn’t have time to cook so my entire diet became Tea, Whisky and Custard Cream biscuits. (First for the diss + narrowly avoiding the signs of scurvy = Win)

But seriously, I flicked back the lock and started moving the tins around with all the good intentions in the world, but then the realisation kicked in. WE HAVE ENOUGH TINNED FOOD TO SELL BACK TO LIDL, TESCOS ET AL!

The joy of hindsight says that I wish I’d taken a ‘before’ photo but the below is after I’d got-my-OCD-on and reverted to a four year old girl and “played shop”.

                                             So....Yeah...... I wasn’t using hyperbole in the slightest.

In the picture you may notice...

11 tins of grapefruit

16 tins of pineapple chunks

15 tins of dog food (there’s a reason Molly the Mollusc [she’s a Labrador, not an actual mollusc] is so rotund!

22 tins of tomatoey saucey spaghetti & beans

9 packs of flour (of varying grains and sizes)

And so on....

I appreciate that my dad didn’t grow up with much and whilst rationing was still dictating the habits of the nation, but does it really mean that we should have enough nomz to last a zombie apocalypse? So before the waves of zombies arrive and we all head to the Winchester; just remember that however much food you have in your fridge / garage, that there are 925 million+ undernourished people in the world and you’re probably not one of them so I implore you to give what you can to charitable causes.

Have a good evening everyone. 

xxx