When everything else fails...

... it's nice to know that there is One Who never fails. Of course, this mechanic flunked his grammar tests and failed to repair your truck, but take heart, breathe deeply, and read a few verses.

To me, an appropriate choice would be Psalm 119.50. Those of you who suffered in the hands of a wicked (strike: incompetent) mechanic know that in times of distress, you need superior comfort. No matter what happens to your ride, don't give up hope and remember: only He will never disappoint you (this rule suffers no exception, not even the mechanic a non-motorist just pitched to you as the best one around).

Read on... After all you've nothing more pressing to do, have you? Remember, you're on the roadside, the bonnet is up, steam is coming out (of under the bonnet and out of your ears) and you've just given up on the above mechanic. Cheer up. This one is exactly what you need:

Of course, you won't be able to actually call the specialist (noticed the obliterated phone number? maybe a disguise to avoid attracting repeat customers? I'm told popularity is sometimes a burden) and I have no clue what "warshing" could possibly be, but while you wait, you can rejoyce (either because the specialist was located, is at work and you're hearing promising grunts coming from under the bonnet, or because you've finally found out what really matters in life...) and go straight to reading Psalm 100 and Shout for joy!

Disclaimer: this post is not intended as an endorsement of the above vendors and the author accepts no responsibility in case of faulty repair work performed by said vendors.

Wonders shall never end

Just at the corner of my street... I never saw it before, so it is probably new...

Shall he, now?

I was always told Jesus was brought up by a carpenter, so who am I to disbelieve His Father might be a tiler?

Nobody here will find this sign even slightly funny, but I have the nagging feeling I've slipped into the Twilight Zone.

Madam, the egg moved

I know I'll sound like a cynical colonialist but here goes...

Yesterday I found that there were fingerprints on the fridge and asked my (new) househelp to clean it. She took it upon herself (laudable initiative) to clean the top of the fridge too. There she found a cardboard tray of eggs where there was only one egg remaining.

Instead of taking the one remaining egg, shoving it into the fridge, discarding the useless tray and cleaning the fridge top, she pushed the tray until the obvious happened: the remaining egg landed not too elegantly (well, flat out) on the floor.

Or that's what I guessed after she came to my home office door saying, in a half pitiful, half panicky voice: “Madam, the egg moved!”

Yes, we are in an animist country, not too far from voodoo shrines... She certainly had nothing to do with the egg moving and crashing on the tiles, surely the egg took it upon itself to commit suicide in my kitchen.

I found it VERY hard not to laugh openly. But it would have been uncharitable, considering how panicky she seemed.

We are not of the same species

Remember my previous experiences with Moringa oleifera (leaf powder, brewed like tea) and Cyperus esculentus (a/k/a tigernut; vegetal milk + powdered almond-like residue)?

Since I like experimenting almost as much as eating, an idea crossed my mind: why not bake a cake that would be almost-but-not-quite a Matcha green tea almond cake?

Here we go then. Let's start with the ingredients:

175g (6oz) soft butter or margarine
125g (4 1/2 oz) sugar
3 eggs
250g (9 oz) self-raising flour
100g (3 1/2 oz) powdered almonds (I used half grounded tigernut, half grounded egusi (shelled squash pips) instead)
2 tsp Matcha green tea (I substituted Moringa leaf powder)
5cl milk (tigernut milk, of course)

Brew your tea in the hot (but not boiling-hot) milk. Mix all the ingredients in the order above, adding the tea+milk mixture last.
Bake in a pre-heated oven for 15 min at 180°C (356°F), then 40 min at 160°C (320°F).

Here is the result:

The kids found the colour so off-putting that they wouldn't taste it. Too bad for them, hurrah for me! One thing puzzles me though: they don't seem to believe we are of the same species. I mean, they don't really expect me to drop dead eating my concoctions but they won't believe that what agrees with me won't poison them either. Life with teenagers is so strange at times...