“Cleaning-Up the Microwave” (a Chemical Fume-Induced Song)

From the makers of That’s When the Cleaning Fumes Got to Me, I present me, cleaning the microwave with equally questionable methods.

If it’s not the fact I forgot to turn the mircowave off (apparently it’s not safe), it’s the realisation afterwards of the potential effects those fumes were having on me.

But still, at least the microwave is clean now.

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An Investment Opportunity

And let me tell you, this house does not disappoint.

A perfectly unassuming two-bed Vicorian terrace property on the market for £60,000. As of Feb 2022, other properies on the same street are up for c. £170,000, so this really is a postcode-bargain.

And, if you were just to look at the single photo on the main listing that’s were it would end. Click on the link titled “Video tour” though and things get interesting…

Sure, the front living room is a little messy, more a hommage to the 1970s, but nothing I haven’t seen before (I would know, I own a sunburst clock).

Then you move to the dining room.

If anything so far has been disturbing you better stop reading.

This, this is the kitchen.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Then there’s the ajoining bathroom.

Upstairs you’ve got a table because why not?

And as far as the master bedroom goes it’s just more of the same.

Stairway is in a decent state, just need redecorating.

There you go. A two-bedroomed terraced property in Swindon, yours for as little as £60,000 (subject to auction room bidding). Do I have any takers?

Full credit to Mumma B for discovering this listing and sharing it with me. Link to the full property details: https://www.rightmove.co.uk/properties/119204489#/?channel=RES_BUY

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I’ve Been “Cooking” Again

Recently got the kitchen done = no oven for two weeks = several takeouts and a trillion microwave meals.

Now, you guys all know how horrific my life choices can be when I set my mind to it? Well this, this shows one of those in action. Behold, me deomonstrating how to prepare one of my signature classics, “East Meets West”.

An absolute culinary pro from start to finish.

Next question, who’s coming over to mine for seconds?

(Ps, if you’re after more kitchen inspiration, here’s the link to my stodge dinner recipe.)

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Alice’s Signature “Three Ingredient” Cooking (Alias “Stodge Dinner”)

A couple of videos that showcase just the level of my culinary abilities. I’d caveat it with something like, “it had been a long day in the office and/or it was 23:00 in the evening”, but it wasn’t. It was 19:00 and it was me, being me.

Part One – Preparation and Cooking

Part Two – Finishing Touches and the Taste Test

Oh, and here is the pastry I mentioned in the video, the free one.

I think it was a citrus tart. It tasted of lemons. It was going out of date that day, so someone came up to me and asked if I wanted it. Five days after said expiry date, I ate it (because that’s the kind of classy girl I am).

So, who wants to hire me as their private chef?

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That’s When the Cleaning Fumes Got to Me

You know how it is. It’s a Friday night, you’re a single woman with the world at your fingertips and anything is possible. You could go out, let your hair down or…you could stay in and give your kitchen a deep clean.

Thing is, I’m not even embarrassed to admit this. In the same way I’m not at all ashamed to say the only bottles this girl was demolishing the other night were these:

(Obviously in non-drinking, sense. Please don’t call 111.)

With cleaning plans firmly lodged in my head, I changed out of my dress and put on a black vest, thus transforming me into a low-budget search engine result for “contemporary dancer near me”.

(No refunds for crimes against the aeroplane dance move.)

First item in my line of cleaning sight (yes, this was genuinely how I spent my Friday night), the fridge. Breaking this mighty deliverable down into smaller, manageable, chunks (who said bringing the day job into personal life isn’t exotic?), I went for the bottom drawer first.

This was followed by a healthy amount of neighbour stalking / Alice rambling (feat. actual cleaning).

Several hours later, and after inhaling quite a considerable about of cleaning fumes in a confined space, this happened.

I’m not going to explain nor apologise. I sent it to my close friends and the responses speak for themselves.

So that’s how I spent my crazy Friday night, what about you?

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Deleted MHAM Posts From the Cutting Room Floor

Some of the photos and posts that I wanted to write for My Housemate’s a Mermaid, but didn’t quite have enough material (pictorial and verbal) to fill.

Deleted MHAM Posts From the Cutting Room Floor

  1. The time how, at the start of the pandemic, Mumma B spent hours cutting squares of old fabric to make laundry bags for NHS key workers

2. When I stayed up so late that I ended up watching a much younger Nicky Campbell presenting a Top of the Pops episode from 1990

Some people had more fun than others.

I continued to watch it, even when this was played from the UK top twenty for the week.

3. How very surreal my office was when I went back to empty my locker

4. My sister’s attempts with one of those packet face masks from South Korea

It ripped off a load of skin, but not a lot else.

5. Squeak, the cat, being rebellious

6. The time I saw my old/favourite History lecturer from University on the BBC and I absolutely lost my cool

I mean, WITH LUCY WORSLEY!!

7. The time I found this in a shop and it perked up my mood

(But not enough that I bought it.)

8. The generous gin measures down the local pub

9. The generous measures of lunch portions while living with family

10. The thinking behind this at the Travel Lodge Hotel in York

It was in the foyer for several days…

11. A post detailing the contents of my bookshelf

12. Everything about this account that started following me on Twitter

How did it take you to spot that’s a semi naked woman?

13. A post on me rekindling my creative mojo during the pandemic

14. The importance of good friends who call-out when you have really bad body odour

15. The ‘what the fudge-ness’ of this targeted advert

Yes, I did tap the link and yes, I am still getting adverts for werewolf fan-fiction as a result.

16. Lockdown birthdays

17. The large number of self-published books with Covid themes

18. The other strange things being self-published

Although I am still a bit in love with the title of this book.

19. My attempts to have a massive clear-out

…which were ultimately foiled by a mixture of procrastination / charity shops being closed / Bubble the cat.

So there you go, a snippet of how much gets filtered before making it onto this website. What can I say? You get what you pay for.

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For Anyone Questioning The Quality of My Work

Remember the post I did, titled Very Cotswold Problems, #3001? It turns out Mr Maverick Lawn Mowing services (catchy name) liked the video upload, and they liked it a lot.

24 seconds of top-notch video footage of my Mumma B and her lawn mower shed antics and the dude has both liked and subscribed to my YouTube channel (still working on getting them to like the actual blog content).

If that doesn’t scream quality comedy, I don’t know what does.

Hang on…have they liked this just because of my Mum?

Seesh. Anyway, moving on…

UPDATE: Maverick has taken down their comment. Rats.

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Very Cotswold Problems, #3001

You know that incredibly annoying feeling when your automated electric lawnmower gets trapped in it’s wooden protective hutch after charging and eventually pulls the whole construction clean away while it carries on mowing the lawn? (*Deep breath*)

No? Okay, well here’s a video to clear up the scale of the problem.

Also, before you go telling me I should have stopped filming to help Mumma B out, she was the one yelling at me to hurry up and get my camera. So, you know…

UPDATE: Check out For Anyone Questioning The Quality of My Work to see what happened next!

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Fancy Chinese Footwear

So here’s a bit of background for you, on the jazzy socks featured in Why Alice is *Still* Single…Probably.

Back when I was living in London I had the absolute pleasure of attending the Tate Modern’s critically appraised exhibition Picasso 1932: Love, Fame, Tragedy. It ran between 8th March – 9th September 2018.

I didn’t attend “1932…” until late on, days before it was due to close. Why? Because I’ll be honest, Picasso had never really been my bag. I appreciated his reputation and there’s no denying Guernica is a masterpiece of political demonstration, but otherwise I just saw the man as someone who took a lot of credit for not a lot.

Don’t shoot me.

In the end, it was a little voice inside my head that urged me to go, that I’d only regret it if I didn’t. (Also, because at the time I could get in for £5. Minor detail.)

I’m so very glad I went. For one, turns out the man is just as trigger happy on the paint brushes as I am on my blog. In one year he produced over 100 works of art (mostly of his mistress). Secondly, some of his work isn’t too shabby.

Don’t get me wrong, I still had questions. Most of my secondary school art projects were on par with Yellow Belt.

And yet God knows, you never saw my Art teacher praising me as the Second Coming. I took a snapshot and sent it to my Mum, she still insisted I keep the day job.

So what has all this got to do with socks? Well, sometime after the exhibition I was browsing the wonderful world of Far Eastern shopping when I came across some socks printed with the iconic painting The Dream.

I’ll spare you my cobble-dash description on this painting but yep, the way he painted the face is intentional (classic playboy Picasso). More information here.

Short story, shorter, I found a pair of socks online depicting this masterpiece (or, as the sellers called them, “style #3 sleeping lady”). Don’t ask how or why, it’ll be easier for us both. Neither did I enquire as to the copyright, given the same people were also selling “magic man” socks of Jesus.

12 million months later my socks arrived, looking something like this:

First observation – no way in hell were these made for a ladies foot-size 5 (EU 38). Definitely men’s socks. But still, the print detailing was alright and the image had been flipped. Without disclosing the price, (*cough* 99p), you get what you pay for.

I couldn’t wait to try them on.

Then I looked down…

Because the socks were bigger in size than expected, I’d had to pull them up higher, and because my calves are the size of tree trunks, the print was stretched-out even more.

Far from looking mellowed after a bit of artist lovin’, Marie looks genuinely pained from having her face stretched to that of a horse. And let’s not even go there with where that places Picasso’s perceived manhood.

Oh well.

I’m still gonna wear them though. I mean, Picasso socks! How cool is that?!

…What? What’s wrong?

Thanks Col, babe. xx

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Cotswold Man Versus Pheasant

So, I’m minding my own business the other day, working from home (as per usual), when I go into the kitchen to grab a coffee and spot this in the garden.

Having a spare minute or two between meetings, I pop outside to take a better look.

Just as surreal an explanation as expected. But still.

I went back to my work laptop and assumed that would be the end of that, that nothing would come of this Robinson Crusoe pheasant trap.

Half an hour (max.) later…

And a little time later still…

Unbelievable.

Shaking my head with disbelief, I bring myself back to my laptop to try and actually get some work done.

“Alice, come with me to drop off this pheasant,’ Papa B says.

“But I’ve got my next meeting in 15 minutes.”

“Well then, hurry up and get your shoes on.”

(Classic family reaction to anything of the sort. Cotswold drama > work.)

He loads the car up with the wheelie bin:

And off we go to calmly release the bird into a wooded spot up the hill.

And now, for the big finish.

We drive back down and I get back into the house just in time to join my work meeting, nobody any the wiser of the craziness that has just gone down.

What can I say? Lockdown just got weirder.

(Important disclaimer – no animals were harmed during this process. The pheasant was humanely released into the wild, flying away without injury. We stayed for a short while after the release to be certain of the animal’s welfare. He was long gone, in fact a week later the peasant actually came back. So there you go, what a success that turned out to be.)

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