Sausage time

Today has been a constructive one in the WithaY household.

We have made:

Bread

Spaghetti bolognese.  Which was mighty fine.

Roast lamb (to be eaten tomorrow), which made the whole house smell like the best Sunday ever.

Aaaaaand...

Sausages! 

Mr WithaY bought a load of professional mincing and sausagifying machinery, and today was the day it got tested.  He mixed a big heap of venison with some pork sausagemeat, a load of seasonings and spices bought from ye olde seasoning and spice merchants, and two bottles of red wine.  He had a huge mixing vat.

I'm not kidding.

This is with a 6'2" bloke for scale:

He also had a box of sausage skins, something you don't want to come across unexpectedly when you open the fridge looking for margerine.  Just saying. 

Anyhoo, we have a mate who is a chef and (probably) sausage expert, and she and her husband popped over this afternoon to assist with the sausage creation.  I think she and Mr WithaY made about 400 miles of sausages in the end. 

There was a bit of the meat mixture left over afterwards so I fried it up into little patties and we all tasted it.  Bloody lovely, was the general verdict.  The sausages have to mature for a couple of days in the chiller, and then Mr WithaY plans to prance round the village, distributing largesse like the Hogfather.

Other news:  Some other mates acquired a puppy this weekend.  It is a very beautiful black labrador* and has meant that Mr WithaY and I have been having The Conversation.  Again.  There are still a couple available, you see, so we could in theory just go and get another dog. 

Which would be great. 

Because we loved our last one, despite his terrifying behavioural issues.

And we missed him so much, another one would be very welcome. 

And, you know, puppies.

*sigh*

Anyway, the harsh reality is that with both of us working full time in jobs where dogs are not welcome (although I do like the idea of doing my 3 hour commute with a dog in tow, then having him sit under my desk all day in the office snacking on sushi and Pret a Manger crusts) it's just not practical.

But then, neither is making sausages in the garage.   

I met the little chap yesterday afternoon as he was being taken for a walk, and he is charming.  He sat down obediently and did that incredibly cute head-cocking thing at me as I talked to my mate.  He'll be getting a sausage or two, I imagine.

*Well, this is Wiltshire

Visitors

We've got a visitor. He seems to have taken up residence in the front garden for the time being, under the Vibernum (sp?) bush.



He looks pretty grumpy, and is limping like a pirate, so I wonder if he's been winged on a shoot somewhere. He's safe enough in the garden though.

We have some other visitors in the back garden too. Not as cute as the pheasant, and a lot more destructive.



(Image nicked from here )

After months of picking the buggers off one at a time from the Window of Doom, Mr WithaY finally agreed to put down some poison.

So, a jolly trip in the pissing rain to the ironmongers, where he bought a huge box of Rat-B-Gone and I got some blue hyacinths in a basket. And some Christmas-tree-shaped biscuit cutters. And a sparkly candle.

Its a great shop. Everything you need, and then some.

Also went to the opticians where he was getting new lenses for his diving trip in January. I amused myself by trying on lots of glasses (one pair at a time, not all at once like Professor Branstawm ). Found some I may get after Christmas. I'll keep you informed.

While I was sat waiting patiently, flicking though one of the many magazines in there (and I noticed they all had small text - how cruel) a woman and a small boy came in. They were greeted by one of the staff, then sat down next to me to wait their turn.

The boy started messing about with the camera machine thingy - the one you can take on-screen photos of yourself with to see how you look in different glasses. He started off just pressing the buttons and making stupid faces.

Fair enough. I mean, I'd been doing the same thing myself not five minutes earlier.

But then, bored with this, he began messing about with the Zoom function, and jumping back from the camera, each time getting nearer and nearer the racks of glasses behind him.

Eventually, inevitably, he jumped back and crashed into one of the stands, knocking all the glasses to the floor. The woman (I assume his mother) leapt to her feet and rushed over saying "Oh! Have you hurt yourself?" To which the little oaf replied in a fake-sad voice "Yes, I have rather hurt my back."

I was dumbfounded.

In fact, I was sorely tempted to give him a sharp ding round the ear and say "And now your ears hurt too. Sit down, stop causing trouble and wait quietly."

However, I decided an afternoon being questioned by the police for assault and battery was not likely to be much fun, so thought better of it. But it was so, so tempting.

And then that bloody woman clucked and fussed around him, checking his back was alright (yes of course it is, he's faking it and is hoping not to get into trouble you stupid fool) before half-heartedly picking up some of the glasses. Gah.

And then we went to Lidl. I love that shop. If you've never been, go. They have more amusing sausages than is entirely reasonable.