A Journey To The Centre Of My Fridge

A Journey To The Centre Of My Fridge

The door makes a gentle sucking noise as it opens

The yielding gummy seal

Revealing the contents within

The lamp flickering with alarm at my intrusion

Faintly illuminating the gloomy interior

The shelves sparsely populated

With a range of dubious items

Covered and clumsily wrapped

Concealing the substances

Which sit forlorn, congealing

Whose provenance is now unknown

And the subject of fervent speculation

At the back there’s something grey

Hiding, cowering unloved

Shrinking from the scrutiny of prying eyes

Crawling from a mouldy plate

Along the wire-lines to the edge of darkness

Oozing towards the side

There’s a nameless clammy odour

Emanating from that crumbled blob

Which might once have been cheese

Now building its own dairy culture

As it transforms itself into yoghurt

Inching slowly towards the bottom

And perhaps those grey flakes of something

Used to be fine fresh slices of ham

Bought to go with the selection of leaves

Which crouch within their plastic packets

In the special salad crisper below

Transmuting themselves into a liquid form

In three different shades of brown

It’s a sorry sight at this time of night

No answer for a hungry man when desperate for nourishment

It offers little hope of satisfaction

And may be a danger to health

So the only practical thing to do

Is to close the door again, sighing gently

And turn elsewhere for comfort

Whilst making a firm resolution

To clean it out tomorrow morning

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2020

Drivel From Devizes - Dateline Sunday 10th May 2020

Drivel From Devizes: Dateline – Sunday 10^th May 2020

Here is our weekly round-up of events from D-Town:

                                              

1.      This week’s big social event in D-Town has been the socially-distanced celebration of the 75^th Anniversary of VE Day (Victory In Erlestoke), when a riot by the local prisoners was put down by prompt action from the prison warders.  The riot had started over a change to the rota of the tea trolley.  A strict regime of rationing had been imposed, but the black market trade in packets of tea and sugar was rife.  Matters came to a head when the warder threatened the use of the then-unknown skimmed milk.

2.      A new Centre for Openly Moaning Always (COMA) has been opened in town where people can go to have a good moan.  Citizens who have found social media an inadequate method of moaning about Lockdown will now have a new place to go to let it all out.  Moaning specialists will be on hand to help those with moaning difficulties.  Courses in Beginners’ Moaning, Intermediate Moaning and Advanced Moaning will be run on a daily basis.  The Centre is being subsidised by the Government’s Central Moaning Fund, recently set up by the Chancellor of the Exchequer, as part of the Covid-19 Emergency Response.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2020

Egg

Egg

There’s a single egg in the fridge

Which sits alone and forlorn

Abandoned by the rest of its dozen

The only lonely occupant

Of that plastic frame within the door

I’m in a quandary on how best I should proceed

Since it’s simply not enough on its own

It really needs a good companion

To make up a proper omelette

Or to be scrambled with butter

If only there were some bread

I could summon some soldiers of toast

And have it soft-boiled

Before roughly knocking its head off

And dunking them in headfirst

Or perhaps poached gently in some hot water

Swirling in a vortex of bubbles and steam

Maybe slowly baked in a ramekin

In a low-oven’d bain-marie

Or hard-boiled to make a feeble sandwich

Yes, there’s a single egg in the fridge

And it probably thinks that it’s escaped

However I fear it’s much mistaken

Since now that I’ve spotted the bacon

I can configure a Full English

And it’s got a future fried

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2020

Brock In The Dock

Brock In The Dock 

There was a young badger named Brock,

Who was in for a hell of a shock.

There’d been a directive,

That his body’s infective,

And now he’s got to stand trial in the dock.

There’s been a lot of tittle-tattle,

From landowners and farmers who prattle.

They say that it’s he,

Who’s spreading TB,

And causing diseases in cattle.

So Natural England’s got a new will,

To employ marksmen with deadliest skill.

The triggers they’re pulling,

They’ve kicked off the culling,

And now they’ve got a licence to kill.

But it could be a home-goal we’ve scored,

For Defra’s studies are known to be flawed,

Surely it’s insane?

Is it really humane,

To be putting our wildlife to the sword?

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2020

Spicy Parsnip Soup with Bacon & Garlic Croutons

Recipe for: SOUP – SPICY PARSNIP with Bacon & Garlic Croutons

Ingredients:

• 1 tblsp sunflower oil
• 1 knob butter
• 1 large onion, peeled & very finely chopped
• 1 large carrot, peeled & finely chopped
• 1 stick celery, cleaned & finely chopped
• 1 medium potato, peeled & finely chopped
• 5-6 parsnips, peeled & finely chopped
• ¼ tsp ground cloves
• ½ tsp ground cinnamon
• ¼ - ½ tsp ground chilli powder
• Salt & freshly-ground pepper
• 1 pt vegetable stock (or slightly more)
• 2 tblsp low-fat yoghurt
• 2 rashers streaky bacon
• 1-2 slices stale bread, cut into small cubes

 Method:

1. heat oil and butter in a large flameproof casserole over a medium heat
2. add all the chopped vegetables & stir well to coat in the oil/ butter
3. cook gently, stirring occasionally until lightly coloured – about 10-15 minutes
4. add the cloves, cinnamon & chilli, stirring well & cooking for two minutes
5. add the stock & bring up to a slow simmer
6. cover with a lid & leave to cook for 45-60 minutes, stirring occasionally, adding more stock/ water if it is getting dry
7. check with the point of a knife that the vegetables are cooked & quite soft
8. remove from the heat & cool slightly
9. liquidise with a hand-held liquidiser
10. taste & adjust seasoning
11. stir in the yogurt and mix well
12. if it’s thicker than you like your soup, add a little water/ stock
13. for the bacon bits – bake, grill or fry the rashers until crispy.  Drain & cool, Cut into small pieces
14. for the croutons – place on a baking tray, sprinkle with garlic-infused oil, using your fingers to mix well.  Add salt & pepper.  Bake in a hot oven for 7-10 minutes. Keep an eye because they soon burn!
15. Serve the soup in warmed bowls, sprinkled with bacon & croutons

Husks

Husks

A gently-trembling hand

Reaches across the beer-ringed table

To grasp the glass half-empty

And drain it to its meagre dregs

Before slowly rolling out a cigarette

With the last of this week’s tobacco

A delicate thread of spittle traced along a line

To seal gossamer-thin white paper

Then tucking it behind the ear

For later consumption

On the way home

Through derelict streets

Deep-set wistful eyes

Survey the scene unchanging

Staring out through rheumy windows

Eking out an eternity of endless days

A waiting-room of dejected men

Rejected and pensioned into retirement

Who feel no ease or comfort

Nor expect any better prospects

Sitting wordless among the others

Staring across the musty bar-room

Where no-one talks today

Since there’s nothing much to say

Ground down by hopelessness

Arms rendered thin and scrawny

Through life-long labour

On shop-floors and in building-yards

Which sit now silent and abandoned

Worn thin by years of heavy toil

Sinew-stretched and weakened

Old muscles worn and wasted

Proud-standing veins show blue

Upon the wrinkled, liver-spotted skin

Of these exhausted men

Insides hollowed out

Husks of what used to be

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2020

Comfort Zone

Comfort Zone

She always said there was a simple choice

To be made each and every morning

When waking out of easy sleep

Her heavy dreams untroubled

By any prickles of anxiety

To lie in tangled bedclothes

Lazy with the feeling that all is well

Comfortable with easy thoughts

About the well-worn path of the day ahead

Merely coasting

Through the normal routines

Along the daily groove of habit

And the same old, same old

But then she thought there was another way -

The stringent spirit of adventure

To step outside oneself

And take the plunge

Without anticipation

By diving into the hard, cold water

Of novelty, of originality

And face up to something scary

That uneasy feeling of standing near the edge

The fierce wind blasting from below

A rising vortex of danger

Nerves taut and jangling

With the sheer exhilaration

Of knowing that we’re really alive

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2020