Grumblings from the lower ranks and the one who should always be right.

Speaking as 'the one who should always be right' (ie the customer), every so often I get a bee (or a lack of olive oil or an absence of anchovies)in my bonnet. Metaphorically speaking with the bonnet. And the bee.
I went looking for anchovies today in my local Waitrose. Where are the anchovies I asked a nice young woman. She led me to them and though surprised to find them with the tinned meat I settled down to search for anchovies, in tins or jars and in olive oil, without manchega cheese or garlic or herbs or indeed any other additives. Unsmoked.
Went back to my young woman who agreed that these were not to be found and went off to ask about it.
She came back to tell me that they have problem with this item and aren't stocking it any more. But would I like her to show me the anchovies on the deli counter (which I know come with vinegar and all sorts of soggy looking additives - sorry, um, well you know, things like sundried tomatoes and olives and stuff. Additives. I thought I'd made it fairly clear what I was looking for but, ok, she was doing her best to offer me an alternative which wouldn't be what I wanted but might make me go away feeling less deprived (but more manipulated). So I've emailed customer services.

Ok. Another bee. I wanted one day to get some mayonnaise. And just out of interest, I checked the ingredients. Odd, they use sunflower oil instead of olive oil. Now I have looked at mayo recipes over the years and have noted that the ingredients are eggs, olive oil, white wine vinegar and seasoning. You know the eggs give the creaminess, the olive oil gives it's flavour and combines with the ww vinegar to make the emulsion and all that. So, ok, this must be the cheaper version. So I looked at the deluxe version and then the posh french labelled versions and then the homemade looking versions and the 'look this is really special' versions and even the 'freshly made' version. Guess what. Not a smidgin of olive oil to be found amongst the lot of them. I despair but it's not worth an email since it's obviously established practice.

Speaking as the lower ranks, Barney is up to his knees in pea shingle and has embarked on a morning's shovelling and barrowing which I was tempted to think of as his just punishment for introducing the loathesome stuff into our garden in the first place.
My chief and strongest objection to it is that it will be the end of my quiet wanderings up the drive, late at night, with the dog but my more reasonable objections include its habit of wandering into every part of the house and garden and its lack of lasting usefulness. Little stones constantly clatter around in the hoover and fly up from the lawn-mower. After a few months, (or weeks or even days) as it settles, deep ruts appear in it where the car wheels pass most often and scour out the ground underneath. So instead of keeping the drive level, it grinds out ever deeper holes to fill with water and turn to mud.
Then there's the effort of struggling through the shingle instead of walking on good solid whatever it was before and the stones leaping into the shoes and the impossibility of leaving the house barefoot, and most particularly the struggle to get the wheelie bin (axle deep) from one end of it to the other.
But worst of all is the enormous crunching sound like an army on the march every time anyone comes up the drive!

At least in the interests of appearing impartial I am able to tell Barney that it looks quite neat and it's quite a nice colour. At the moment.
Shingle, in my not at all humble opinion, should stay on the beaches where it belongs!

However, watching him pushing and shovelling away out there, I felt obliged to offer my assistance and got dressed in yesterday's dirty clothes and donned a pair of rubber gloves and wandered out only to be told it was too hard for me and there was only one shovel anyway!*
So, ok. I shall have a shower, get dressed up to kill and prepare to go out for dinner with some friends tonight (I have to do some serious tarting up since the young lady is very very dressy and slim and last time I met her I was in fancy dress as a pierrot with a very sad face - covered with running and cracking white and black stuff :)
I hope you are having a good and happy weekend. I hope things are going ever so well. I hope for good moments to shower upon you all.
And I hope the sun keeps popping out for a quick blessing upon you :)



*what happened to the other two then?