Feast Your Mince Pies on this…

Tis is the season and all that.

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Thought I’d end the year with a festive title at least, even if the content isn’t necessarily Christmassy. Bear with caller…

So, I recently went for some ‘spiritual healing’ and without going too deeply into it, I felt ‘blocked’. Emotionally, physically. And no, I didn’t just need a big poo and a cry. (I had already tried that.)

 

 

 

I had never been to a healer, so had no level of expectation, but after just one session, I knew I would be back. I got so much out of it – lots of questions answered, chakras aligned (they were a mess and I don’t ‘do’ untidy) plus an incredible feeling of lightness, more than any massage could give.

We discussed the different findings of my session, one of them being something that the healer couldn’t put her finger on (pardon the pun) with regards to my eyes. I said that it may have been my ‘lens implants’, as when I was 16 and had cataract surgery. I wrote about it once before. (There’s a marvellous dessert recipe featuring waffles, white chocolate and raspberries.)

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Just to entice you to click

The other explanation was that I had been procrastinating about having an eye test. And I really had. Was my vision worsening or was I just going to bed far too late each night and spending too much time on my phone/computer/current book?

I left the session and immediately booked an appointment with my optician for the following day.

Because I am really cautious about my eyes, there is only one person for the job – an independent optician called ‘Ben Mirkin’ in Brent Cross where I see ‘Rod’.

I had brought my glasses with, giving them a thorough clean before heading in. (Same as when I brush my teeth for about five minutes, swilling mouthwash and then some rigorous gum-bleeding-inducing flossing right before seeing the hygienist. The shame of it.)

From my many visits over the years dealing with my ‘mince pies’ (come on, cockney rhyming for eyes!), I should be well used to the opticians by now, but I think I’d rather have a filling at the dentist. Okay, a bit dramatic, but I really don’t like going.

First off,  the ‘chair of doom’. I hate that high chair.

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*shudders*

It reminds me of the bit in Superman 3,  with the Vera, the highly strung sister. I just feel trapped and suffocated behind all that machinery put in front of me.

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Sis…?

I can’t deal with all the questions. My brain goes into overload and I need more time than the allocated appointment slot to decide whether ‘red or green’ is clearer.

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It’s bad enough with the letters…

Then they bring out the crop circles…

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All I see in my head is the snake from ‘The Jungle Book’.

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“…Trussssst in meeeeee…”

The only bit I don’t mind, is reading the letters out line by line.

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Past that, it’s all downhill. When they start shifting dials and adjusting the machinery – ‘better like this? or like this?’

I can’t cope.

I DON’T FUCKING KNOW!!!

Can you just do it again once more?

The bit where they make you wear those weird lenseless specs where they slot in the lenses that you’ve just agreed to as your ‘perfect vision’? Then they come at you with the swivelling lollipop stick and do alot more ‘one?.. or two?’

If I think about it though, all that stuff is the easy part.

It’s what comes next…

The bit they get you with right at the end…

With the ‘Tenometer’.

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I said ‘tenometer’, but he’s definitely had it done and even he’s scared shitless

This thing…

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The ‘puffy air’ machine

This machine has the capacity to render me useless for about 20 attempts. Per eye.

“Tonometry is the procedure eye care professionals perform to determine the intraocular pressure (IOP), the fluid pressure inside the eye. It is an important test in the evaluation of patients at risk from glaucoma. Most tonometers are calibrated to measure pressure in millimeters of mercury (mmHg).”

Translation: “I shall now puff air right onto your eyeball.”

I believe this to be the worst form of torture known to mankind.

I do not like it one bit.

I would actually rather eat a mince pie.

But would prefer one of these:

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Krispmas Puddings

I made them a couple of years ago for the school Christmas fair and blogged about here.

Am reposting the recipe, because, you know, it’s Christmas, and you might not click the link.

Rice Krispmas Puds

Ingredients:

100g Rice Krispies

5 or 6 full-size Mars bars

3oz unsalted butter

Red, green and white ready-to-roll icing

Method:

Chop the Mars bars up and melt with the butter in a microwave for 3-4 mins on medium.

Stir melted Mars bars into bowl of Rice Krispies and mix.

Roll into golf-sized balls. Add a Malteaser in the middle of a few of them (yassssssss!) – finders wins prizes! (Ensure you actually have prizes.)

Top with a white circle of icing (snow), red balls (berries) and green sprigs (holly).

Happy holidays everyone. xxx

p.s. Thanks for all the blog love this year. It means loads to me because I love writing – it makes me happy. And if it makes someone smile, then that’s a bonus.

p.p.s. I actually detest mince pies. I don’t know if it’s the chopped fruit or the Christmassy spices, or the fact that for years I thought it was a actual beef mince meat inside. Either way, not for me.

p.p.p.s. Eyes are all good. Perfect in fact, as no change from last eye test.

I Get So Emojinal…

When I was younger, I had the most phenomenal vision. My mum wore those old-school gas permeable contact lenses that would often fall off of the suction-tool when she was putting them in. Our deep-pile bathroom carpet (yup – 70s chic) was no match for my eagle eyes.

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When I hit 16, I noticed that my vision was becoming hazy. At first I put it down to hay-fever but deep down I knew that something wasn’t quite right. After a few months of pretence, I told my parents that whatever it was, it was worsening and I was referred by my optician to an ophthalmic practice in Harley Street.

The verdict? I had cataracts.

Years of applying steroid cream to the eczema around my eyes had thinned my skin and had most likely been the cause. With a great deal of hand-holding from Joy, the most wonderful practice manager, I went ahead with the surgery and had great results.

Fast forward 25 years and I only really need glasses for heavy reading/computing, but I’m suddenly starting to feel really old. I used to have my finger on the pulse, but now have to consult my teenage nephews about words like ‘sick‘, ‘bare‘, ‘dabbing‘ and ‘peng‘.

I also used to think I was tech-savvy…(come on, type with me and reminisce)

Once there was a girl who was 13. She had an 84 inch bust but wanted a 35 inch bust so she went to her Doctors and he said, “Oh, take these pills 2x a day.” But instead, she took them 4 and ended up….(=)

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‘BOOBLESS’ – oh how we laughed as 14 year olds

My kids aren’t interested that I know the words to ‘Buffalo Stance’ and they flip straight back to Kiss 100 when I try to wow them with the delights of early rave tunes on pirate radio. The fact I can do my bra up behind my back no longer impresses them either.

I am baffled by bottle-flipping supremos and mesmerised by the genius of the mannequin challenge. I know it’s inevitable but I really don’t want to feel old. Here are some other things I don’t want:

I don’t want to experience RSI scrolling back on website drop-down menus, because my birth year is not instantly visible.

I don’t want to have to try multiple passwords because I’ve locked myself out of my numerous online accounts. (Upper or lower case always throws me.)

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I don’t want to affectionately sign off texts with a ‘c’ when I’m trying to type an ‘x’.

I don’t want to have to wear my glasses more than I have to and I especially don’t want to increase my font size on my phone. People on the moon can see my friend typing her text messages.

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I can’t see the expression on the little yellow emoji faces. On the plus-side, if you type tomato, a tomato appears. Cake and a cake appears. My favourite is ‘totes’ – type it and see…

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If by miraculous luck, my blog hashtags have attracted emoji creative folk, I would appreciate a ‘whole chicken’ emoji, not just a chicken ‘leg’. And a raspberry emoji please. How is there a strawberry, a plum, a peach.. but no raspberry? It’s fruitist.

Talking of raspberries, some blog-appreciaters have asked for another recipe, so here is a raspberry one, given to me by an old colleague when I was stuck for an impressive but quick dessert.

‘A Waffley’ Good Dessert

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Including mint sprig for pro-finish

Ingredients:

6-pack of sweet waffles. Literally the cheapo ones from a Polski Sklep or other convenience store. (I have never typed ‘Polski Sklep’ before)

120g Milky Bar – go basic. I tried it with Green & Blacks white chocolate and it wasn’t as good

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1 large egg

300ml single cream

300g fresh or frozen raspberries (frozen are better value out of season)

Method:

Preheat oven to 180˚C.

Take a deep ovenproof dish about 23cm long and lightly grease with butter.

Break up the waffles and place in dish, then ‘hide’ the chunks of Milky Bar evenly amongst the waffles.

Whisk the egg and cream so it’s all foamy and pour all over the waffles. Let it ‘steep’ for 10 minutes.

Top with raspberries and place in oven for 25-30 mins.

Remove.

Dab, because you’ve produced an impressive dessert with minimal effort.

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