Having declared over supper last night that I was:
Bored with the big society.
Finding Mr Cameron's comments about high salaries a tad disingenuous.
Unable to look at Mr Osborne's image on the TV or indeed to listen to his voice.
Still not confident that Mr Milliband can win an argument never mind an election.
And, still fragile from watching Manchester United's poor second half performance against Manchester City.
The in-house critic called me a sour puss. As she pointed out they had won the game!
Maybe she was right, maybe I have become sour, maybe the cynic in me has been shown to be right once too often since the election.
Sour is a difficult word.
Things become sour if you leave them for too long in the hot sun, especially milk.
Words sour, looks sour, faces can carry a sour expression, even wine sours.
For those of us living on a pension, benefits or earning a wage that is not enough to sustain normal living, the idea of executive salaries outstripping both inflation and average earnings, might cause us to react somewhat sourly.
Sour is a word that carries a faintly bitter taste. Perhaps that is why the phrase appears in Matthew's Gospel Chapter 27: vv 34 where Matthew is describing the events surrounding the Crucifixion.
Matthew says's that they gave Him (Jesus) sour wine mingled with gall to drink. But when he had tasted it, He would not drink.
Various experts have seen this action by the Roman Soldiers as either an act of mercy or of mockery, the sour wine and gall cocktail might have helped dull the pain, or maybe there was some suggestion of Hail the King! Drinking a sour toast to the figure nailed to the cross rather than the fine wine that might have been served to the person on the throne?
But then sour can be a discovery of quite a different kind.
At supper last evening, as I reminded my dinner companion we were eating Goulash.
The beef had been marinaded in smoked paprika and simmered in red wine, my own secret ingredient in a Goulash is to not use raw onion, but to add silverskin onions, the tiny pickled onions that come in a jar.
I served the Goulash with Saffron Rice.
But what made it so delicious was the final ingredient added after the meat was cooked and immediately before it was served.
Sour Cream.
Aah, now there is a contradiction in terms. Sour Cream is sweet and unctuous. It thickened and enriched the Goulash. It transformed the ordinary to make it distinctive and special.
It was so delicious that after I had added the cream to the dish I licked the spoon and then dipped it again for another taste.
It won't bring a change of government any nearer but a dash of sour cream from time to time might make the time seem to pass less slowly.
Bored with the big society.
Finding Mr Cameron's comments about high salaries a tad disingenuous.
Unable to look at Mr Osborne's image on the TV or indeed to listen to his voice.
Still not confident that Mr Milliband can win an argument never mind an election.
And, still fragile from watching Manchester United's poor second half performance against Manchester City.
The in-house critic called me a sour puss. As she pointed out they had won the game!
Maybe she was right, maybe I have become sour, maybe the cynic in me has been shown to be right once too often since the election.
Sour is a difficult word.
Things become sour if you leave them for too long in the hot sun, especially milk.
Words sour, looks sour, faces can carry a sour expression, even wine sours.
For those of us living on a pension, benefits or earning a wage that is not enough to sustain normal living, the idea of executive salaries outstripping both inflation and average earnings, might cause us to react somewhat sourly.
Sour is a word that carries a faintly bitter taste. Perhaps that is why the phrase appears in Matthew's Gospel Chapter 27: vv 34 where Matthew is describing the events surrounding the Crucifixion.
Matthew says's that they gave Him (Jesus) sour wine mingled with gall to drink. But when he had tasted it, He would not drink.
Various experts have seen this action by the Roman Soldiers as either an act of mercy or of mockery, the sour wine and gall cocktail might have helped dull the pain, or maybe there was some suggestion of Hail the King! Drinking a sour toast to the figure nailed to the cross rather than the fine wine that might have been served to the person on the throne?
But then sour can be a discovery of quite a different kind.
At supper last evening, as I reminded my dinner companion we were eating Goulash.
The beef had been marinaded in smoked paprika and simmered in red wine, my own secret ingredient in a Goulash is to not use raw onion, but to add silverskin onions, the tiny pickled onions that come in a jar.
I served the Goulash with Saffron Rice.
But what made it so delicious was the final ingredient added after the meat was cooked and immediately before it was served.
Sour Cream.
Aah, now there is a contradiction in terms. Sour Cream is sweet and unctuous. It thickened and enriched the Goulash. It transformed the ordinary to make it distinctive and special.
It was so delicious that after I had added the cream to the dish I licked the spoon and then dipped it again for another taste.
It won't bring a change of government any nearer but a dash of sour cream from time to time might make the time seem to pass less slowly.
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