My Family's Obsession With Cream Tea

I must make it sound like my family are so posh. Really, its a Northener and a Brummy with 2 Derby speaking kids. Yet for some reason we all seem to have this "The Good Life" outlook on life. My Dad is the perfect farmer, to the point where he sometimes gets up at the same time as me on a saturday morning as I am off to work at 5.30, just to check the chickens. My Mum is just as a good a farmer's wife. We have had to build a special cupboard in a space where the computer was for all of the jams and chutneys that my Mum makes.

My sister is a typical 15 year old really. She is not quite sure who she is yet, trying to be cool with her side fringe, blackberry and annoying statuses on facebook, that are easy pickings for a bit of casual sibling bullying. However she is never happier than when she is sat on a ride-on mower. And the worrying thing is she is blooming good at driving it!

Anyway we are digressing from what I actually started out writing this blog about. Th essence of that long winded and pointless background was that we are country folk at heart, and because of this we spend our weekends chilling up the allotment. Today my Dad even bought some fuel specially for his petrol lawn mower so he could mow around the edges and when I got in from work I was greeted by my Nana and my sister and the smell of something baking in the oven.

After a whole morning of baking bread, this was to be honest the last thing I wanted, but there we go. I was informed to have a shower and then get the car ready (complete with camping stove and gas kettle) to take warm scones up to the allotment. Firstly, who on earth thinks of making scones? Secondly, who on earth knows how to make scones? When I asked my sister this she replied, in a teenagers grunt: "It came in a bag." Upon clarification from my Nana, apparently there a several shops around the country full of bins full of stuff like scone mix and bird seed. Apparently too, my family have nothing better to do than to identify where these shops are and tour the country buying scone mix.

So there we are sat next to a veggie patch full of funny looking plants, in the playing field of my old primary school no less, eating scones, jam and clotted cream and waiting for what seems like eternity for a kettle to boil on a gas camping stove. This part of the story links quite nicely with previous blogs: the tea was made in my new university mugs, which for some reason my Mum thinks I need 4 of... 1 for me and the rest for my imaginary friends I suppose...

That said, with the great British sunshine burning down onto us whilst we ate warm (either because they were fresh or because they had been sat in the sun, not too sure which way) scones and tea, like posh people. 

The fact that this appears to be the highlight of my weekend is probably making you think I need to get out more. And you would be right, had I not have this story to tell from the day before: http://tomstalkblog.blogspot.co.uk/2013/08/the-inaugural-university-preparations.html Yes that's right: University shoppping!

Thanks for reading!

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Those Lads Holidays.

Every year, there is an influx of young visitors to those Mediterranean resorts like Zante, Malia, Malaga and Ibiza, and this year, it was the turn of my peers to jet off to Greece, get drunk for 7 days, then fly home with the most horrendous hangover!

I have just met up with a friend who has been out there. He is not the type to get overly excited about things, so when I asked him how it was, his response was: "Well, it's a bit tiring going out every night isn't it?" which just about sums up my attitude to this type of holiday.

I have no issues with people who do, but I am not the type for clubbing. I am the kind of guy who likes to be in bed by 10.30, and likes going camping at the weekends, spends all of his spare time fixing my car and writing pointless stuff on the internet. To do that, you definitely have to be a special type of person!

So naturally, a whole week of this, would just be ridiculous. So, between me and my friends I have come up with a little plan that I hope will sort all these issues out. Instead of getting on a rubber band airlines plane to Cyprus, we will be getting in our little cars, and heading up the M1, following the signs for "The North." A crazy idea I know, but we have chosen to go and have a good old lads holiday in sunny yorkshire. And if you are an Ale drinker you will have heard of Theakston's, and if you are an Ale boffin you will also know that a Theakston's brother makes a beer called Black Sheep, both breweries are located within 10 miles, as well as Wensleydale Brewery and many other lovely beers, brewed in and around Wensleydale with the lovely soft water that the marshes provide.

We will be camping in a field, with nothing but a few matches (and a ton of lighter fluid but don't tell anyone, that would be cheating), a few tents and some sleeping bags, for just under a week. This is something that we will really enjoy, I can tell you that, and something that we would much rather be doing that going over the water to Ayia Napa or something like that!

I will make sure I keep you posted on how we get on!

What makes me laugh is even as I write this blog, Holst came on shuffle on my iTunes. I really am a sad old man before my time.

Thanks for reading,

Please follow me on twitter: @peachy146