Hip Hip Hooray!

...and Happy Birthday Steph, hope you have a wonderful day.  Looking forward to seeing you in 3 weeks time.

Hip Hip Hooray! for me too, celebrating the fact that I am not in need of a hip replacement operation. Peter The Physio says my hip pain is "gluteal tension" [!?] Entirely muscular and can be eased if I do daily exercises.
Prior to my appointment, I had convinced myself I did need one. I was chatting to an older friend at the conference, who assured me such ops were brilliant "I've had three" she said proudly, "and now I can do aquarobics and ride a tricycle". I confess that bothered me - do the prosthetic joints wear out? Or does she have a third hip?

Peter has given me a sheet of exercises to complete each morning. This is proving a challenge! I am doing my best, but I have many questions about this regime.

1. why does every chart show tall slim young women exercising? never dumpy little grannies
2. why is the middle exercise on the list the one which involves sitting on a chair? Getting up off the floor is an exercise in itself. I have moved the chair one to the end of the sequence
3. why does it keep remind you to breathe normally? I'm lying their panting, and groaning, and puffing away like a woman in labour!
4. how am I supposed to measure the 15-30 seconds duration of each activity when I am lying on my back staring at the bedroom ceiling? 
   

I finally cracked the breathing and timing issues, when I realised yesterday that my daughter is 42 today [apologies that birthday card has yet to arrive] If I sing "Happy Birthday to Steph" three times, that is long enough to keep my legs in the air, and muscles stretched for each repetition and helps my breathing.

A Dead Mouse, A Wardrobe Malfunction, And An Unexpected Delivery

Monday afternoon was awful. I went off to do a big shop at Sainsbury's and phoned Bob to say I was finished and about to drive home, but felt a bit woozy. He suggested I went to the nearby Costa and had a drink and sat down till I felt better. I was OK driving the few hundred yards from the supermarket, but when I got out of the car, things started spinning. Fortunately there was no queue as I lurched to the counter. "What can I get you?" said the cheery barista. I said I thought I was having a vertigo attack, so please could I begin with a glass of tap water with ice in it. Her colleague produced it very promptly, and that helped a lot. I thanked her, and ordered a coffee. She said the cakes were half price, so I added a Bakewell Slice. The barista said I should sit down and she'd bring my drink over. The two assistants were incredibly kind. (thank you, girls) I sat for about 20 minutes then drove home carefully. But once I got to Cornerstones and got out of the car and stood up, the nausea washed over me again. Bob sent me to bed (and brought me a sick bowl,in case) I ordered a small birthday gift online. Monday night I slept well. Tuesday I rested, and felt much better. 

Wednesday seemed OK, but there were some bizarre moments. Emptying the waste paper bins into a larger bag (it was bin day) I jumped to see a small brown creature in the bottom of the lounge wpb. I thought it was a dead mouse. Fortunately it wasn't. It was the detached leg of the teddy Jess won at a local fete. The head, and 2 of the limbs had snapped off the same day she got it, so it was consigned to the bin.

Bob went off to the Shed, and I went up into the loft. As I always do, I took my mobile phone up there with me. But then the land-line rang. I clambered slowly and carefully down the ladder, but by the time I got to the phone, the caller had left a message then rung off - but number withheld so I couldn't ring back. Never mind, at least I didn't race down the steps and risk falling. The parcel I'd ordered arrived. 

Bob came home and needed help taking some Shed stuff to the Parish Church. The ladies were preparing for the upcoming Flower Festival. "I don't know if I should say this dear, but you are wearing your jumper inside out"  I felt extremely stupid!

Then when we got home, the parcel I'd ordered arrived. Yes, in my vertiginous stupor I'd managed to order the gift twice! It doesn't matter, I can use the 2nd gift for somebody else sometime.

I should have stayed in bed on Wednesday too....

I Met A Man With Seven Wives...

No, it was just Kirsten with a ball of wool and a pair of needles!
Here is her October gift Block #49 which the author has named St Ives 

Kirsten says
"These were incredibly quick to knit; it's a ten-row pattern, but astonishingly easy to learn and only five repeats. Plus, there's only one row of the hated purl to knit, and two of rib, which I don't mind so much."

Rows 1 – 3 knit
Row 4 K2P2 to end
Row 5 – knit
Row 6 - K2P2 to end
Row 7 – knit
Rows 8 & 9 – knit
Row 10 -  k1, P to last stitch, K1

Kirsten sent me a beautiful vintage postcard of "Tombland" the medieval area outside Norwich Cathedral- an area I love walking round.

Plus a quirky little book - which Bob recognised instantly and said how brilliant it is. Lem Putt is the Specialist - a carpenter by trade, and specialist in Sanitary Engineering. It is the story of how he builds his friend Elmer a 'mighty pretty privy'

Kirsten made herself golden autumnal one. I love my red/purple piece, the colours of breakfast compost!  She says she will definitely be repeating this one, perhaps in a less fluffy yarn so the stitch definition is clearer.

The people of St Ives, Cornwall claim this poem, written in 1730 for their town. But the folk of St Ives Cambridgeshire say it was written for them! Who knows? I wasn't planning to go to St Ives anyway

Holey, Holey, Holey

Block #74 – Alternate Eyelets -AA

After K sent me an eyelets square last month, I was greatly challenged to try a lace pattern myself. The next one seemed to be this alternate eyelets pattern. Seven or eight eyelets in each row, but adjusted so that they made a diamond pattern. I memorised the 8 row sequence very quickly, and was able to knit a square in the car on the journey to London [to see the Tapestry] and another on the way back. I was so taken with these two [random yarns] that I quickly knitted two more in plain yarns. I used that blue random in July, and the autumnal golds in August. The top plain one reminds me of raspberries! The last one is snowy white. Summer-autumn-winter, how the seasons flow into one another…

I like very simple memorable stitch patterns. If we are going to make enough for a jumper, doing twice as many each month will help. I am sending K one plain and one fancy.

There is an old hymn which begins Holy, Holy, Holy - when I was very young, the choir always sang it in church just as we began the Sunday Morning Service. I was baffled by a verse which referred to "Cherubim and Seraphim, falling down before Thee, which wert and art and evermore shalt be"
"Wert and Art" was such an odd phrase, incomprehensible to a 6 year old.
And I was bothered by the heavenly beings falling down. I knew that Isaiah the prophet saw the seraphim, and declared "with twain he covered his feet" [Is 6:2] I wasn't sure about the word twain, and confused it with tallow. Thus I thought the seraph had waxy feet!

UPDATE - Katie's Hospice Coffee Morning raised just shy of £1000. Amazing!

A New Word - For A Familiar Old Habit

Kirsten rang me yesterday morning to discuss our double-knitting project. "Is this a good time?" I apologised that it would have to be a very brief call as I was in the middle of a workshop at my craft group. [I must admit, it made  a pleasant diversion from the intensive activity inside the village hall, to nip out into the sunshine and chat to a friend] We exchanged info about our current squares.

"Please don't feel you have to get these done it you are snowed under" she said. I assured her that the current pattern has been so delightful and easy to memorise, so I have actually done four squares not two this month.
Currently I have to admit, I have more than usual on my plate . Partly my own fault for not saying No, and partly because I enjoyed my 4 days away in London. 

But knitting, and sewing, are activities which soothe and calm me. Other tasks can wait a day or two...

It's A Sign

 When  I was in my teens, my Dad sometimes took me to the Lamb Inn in Norwich for lunch [its changed in the half century since, and not so good now, imho!]  I was always amused when you went downstairs to the loo by the witty sign on the wall.

This anatine one, spotted in a Hampstead Coffee Shop on Sunday morning seemed less clever. Why is it only a duck who must mind its head? Hampstead seemed a place of inexplicable signs. One area had all roads completely closed off because of some sort of excavation works. Right in the middle was this...

There was only just enough space for a pedestrian to squeeze past - it would be amazing if any sort of vehicle got to that spot, let alone stopped to unload or park.

I have just made a new sign for our local parish church. It replaces the one I made in 2023, which has fallen to bits in the wind, rain and sun.

My Banner-making instructions are here. When you plan a sign, always get someone else to check it before you print, paint, or stick. 
I will never forget laying out fabric letters on a sheet. I was working from the top edge, whilst cousin Gill lay on the sofa. [to keep her feet off the floor] She watched me silently, then said "Ang - you do realise your banner says WELLING BATSPIT CHRUCH don't you?

With Apologies To Oscar Hammerstein

The other evening I went to a concert [fundraiser for our village Parish Church] My friend sings in a local choir, and asked me to support the event. So I did. The Bach to Broadway programme included some well-sung well-known pieces. But I confess I was a little distracted in one song, and found myself rewriting the words of an old favourite from the musical 'Showboat'. 

Oh listen, sister, I love my mister man                 
And I can tell you why
Theres's many reasons for me to love that man     
It must be somethin' that the angels done plan

but... 
Sharks gotta swim, bats gotta fly
I gotta love one man till I die
But I can't help loathin' that beard he’s grown

Look at those bristles, thatch on his chin,
And when he kisses, it scratches my skin,
Can't help loathin' that beard he’s grown

With his beard so grey,
that's a rainy day
But when he shaves it off**
that day is fine
The sun will shine!

So he can come home
with a whiskery face
Cos home without him
ain't my happy place
Can't help lovin' that man of mine

[**as soon as he has been Santa for the Toddler Group at Chapel]

Tap, Tap!

We went down to Kent on Wednesday evening. On Thursday it was the Remembrance and Thanksgiving Service for Spurgeon's College - the wonderful place where Bob trained for ministry, which closed very suddenly last summer. We both really wanted to attend this event - but it was a day long programme, 10-4, and we felt it would be too much to drive there and back in a day. Knowing that our good friends Andrew and Eleanor would be going, we asked them if we could B&B on the Wednesday night. 

"Of course" they said immediately "You can have the house to yourselves, we won't be there!" They were a few miles away, looking after the grandchildren whist Mum and Dad away [the things we Grans do for our families...]

So after Bob got back from Men's Shed we loaded the car and drove south. I'd packed two lunchboxes and made a flask of coffee. We stopped in a layby on the A11, to enjoy our picnic.

We diverted to IKEA Lakeside, and I finally purchased new rugs for our bedroom. Our current ones are 17 years old. I wanted something fresher, and I am moving the originals into the back bedroom. All these rugs are machine washable which I like.

We arrived in Biggin Hill, and found the doorkey in the Hidden Place! After visiting the loo, I tried to fill the kettle. I struggled. The water flow kept stopping and starting. Bob came into the kitchen. "Oh I was looking at ones similar to that in IKEA!" he said. The sort with a pull out spray. I declared I didn't want one!

On the other hand, I did covet Eleanor's Bayeux Teatowel! She had left it out especially for me to look at. 

We had a good night's sleep and left early next morning for Croydon. I will say more about the event later. It was a large venue

I was not sure about the motion sensor lights in the Ladies loo. If you sat down and sat still, they went off very quickly, plunging you into Stygian Gloom. And Bob wondered why the Gent's loo had a hand dryer and a hairdryer!

It was good to meet so many old friends. But some conversations were slightly bizarre.

A group of us were talking about holidays, and people had certainly been to some interesting locations. I said "We have just spent a week in Cyprus staying with friends"
Another woman in the group suddenly said "Iceland - if you are over 60 and visit Iceland, then on a Tuesday you get 10% off" The younger ones looked baffled, so I said "You do mean the Frozen Food Shop, not the country, don't you? ..."

We got home around 9pm. It had been a good day.
Andf I got to sit with Eleanor at lunch and catch up with all her news. She was greatly amused by the Tap antics - and explained it is touch sensitive - the water only flows if you keep your hand on the tap. You have to tap the tap!

Count Bin Space!

No, not Bin Face, Bin Space!
In my first little flat, I had a small kitchen bin, a wpb in the lounge, and a small fliptop bin in the bathroom. Over the years, my bin collection got larger...everybody had a wpb in their bedroom, and under Bob's desk we had a regular waste bin and a bin for paper-to-be-recycled.

Leicestershire was ahead of the curve with wheelie bins - outside we had bins for regular, recycling, glass, food waste, garden waste, battery bags... We acquired Cornerstones and I retired here with a definite surplus of bins [back there were no food waste facilities]

That's changed this month. We now have a large blue food waste bin outside, and a smaller 7litre caddy to go into the kitchen. I appear to have very little to put in it! Thus far it has nothing except empty teabags [the contents are put in the compost caddy] When we did the 2025 kitchen refurb, we bought two IKEA Hållbar bins, in a pull out frame. These are for 'general kitchen rubbish' and 'recycling'. So I now have four different bins under the sink - labelled carefully so we throw things in the right direction!

recycling, general, food waste, compost

I am hoping this system will work smoothly. We still have two bins under our shared deskspace. Outside two wheelie bins [regular and recycling] and the new blue food one. We decided we didn't need to pay £64 p.a. for a garden refuse bin.

But there is one other category of waste which was not being managed properly. The 'soft plastics' stuff - the crisp packets, plastic 'belly band' wrappers round food trays, cheap carrier bags, pouches and sachets. There is a lot of it about. My system was to put a carrier bag inside a small bucket in the Futility room, and squash stuff down- knot it when full - and drop it off at a supermarket when I went shopping. This was not ideal - I kept forgetting to take the heap of knotted bags to the store!

The neatly squashed and rolled packets often unfurled and popped out...The draining board was often bestrewn with Bob's Cheese and Onion crisp packets. I think I have solved this. I got a smart 10litre steel bin, which I line with a carrier. It sits tidily under the cupboard in the F. Room.

Like Count BinFace, I am working and hoping, for a better environment. Are you?

Holiday Habits

I have a strange holiday habit - I like wandering round foreign supermarkets, and buying interesting packets to bring home. I think that I may have passed this on to Liz, who brought back some Speculoos Pancake Mix, so the girls could recreate their Dutch holiday breakfasts once back in England.
Bob and I had a happy meander round the Supermarket in Paphos on Wednesday. 

Wendy's favourite shop is Sklavenitis, which she always refers to as 'ScabbyKnees' - its slogan is "As cheap as anywhere else"
Here is what we purchased

1. A jar of tahini, a basic ingredient which I shall use for dips and salad dressings, as well as in sweet dishes.
2. A large tin of Royal Baking Powder. Just because I love these tins*. Now produced in Spain where Royal is a synonym for baking powder, this brand began in Longhorsley near Newcastle, in the factory of Thomas Bell. He called his brand Bell's Royal and shortened it to Be-Ro. 
3. Some Cyprus Delight. Similar to the Turkish stuff, but a little denser, with different flavours. Some varieties have PG status [protected geographical] 
4. White beans.Because I ate a bowl of fasolia . I loved it and want to make some more at home
5. Olive Oil. Bob's choice. Agios Georgios [St George] is a very popular premium brand. And Bob liked the cool cuboid tin!
6. "Premium Nuts" We are not convinced everything in the bag is a nut, there are some rectangular biscuit looking pieces. But it will be portioned out as a TV snack [so someone does not eat the entire bag at one sitting!]

Finally a pot of salt. I know, you can buy salt easily in the UK, and it is not especially Cypriot. But every place where we had a meal had these cute little sailor pots standing on the table. I splurged 30p on this jolly little chap.

Today [August 15th] is celebrated in Cyprus by the Greek Orthodox believers as the Feast of the Domition Of The Virgin Mary  [In the Roman Catholic church it is called The Assumption, and marked on 28th August]  Traditionally it is the day when they eat Arkanata Bread Rolls. 

I did not know about the feasting when I picked a up a bag of these rusks in the supermarket, just that they were uniquely Cypriot. The name comes from the Greek word for labour because their overnight production is very laborious, using ground fermented chickpeas and ginger in boiling water . And they are baked twice- once as soft round roll, and then a second time to make the roll into a dry, long lasting rusk.  Unfortunately despite very careful packing, we got home to find our pack has been reduced to chunks and crumbs! Never mind. We can consume them with dips and dunk them in soups.
Do you ever buy interesting foods in foreign supermarkets?

*this tin has bolos fofos printed on it. I have no idea what it means. I tried various Spanish Translation programmes and got "Flabby Bowling Balls" can anyone out there explain???

Am I Being Picky?

 I have no problem with the word pick -  it is useful in so many contexts

• pick and mix [Woolworths, Saturday morning, sixpence worth]
• pick a card [any card] 
• pick the locks [never as easy as it seems on TV]
• pick of the pops [with Alan Freeman et al]
• pick your own [strawberries, apples, pumpkins etc]
• pick up the tab [thank you, that's kind of you]
• pick up and knit [that gets more stitches on the needle]
• pick up the pieces [and move on...]
• pick at your food [no go on, eat it!]
• pick your nose- or teeth [but in private, please]
• pick a quarrel [no, don't!]
• pick a pocket [or two]

But please don't expect me to get excited about PICKY BITS - I do not like this term! It has been everywhere this summer!

In Spain they have tapas, in the Eastern Mediterranean, meze, in Scandinavia smörgåsbord , French friends enjoy l'apero and tartines
Picky bits just sound so much less appetising. It's the meal made from "what is in the fridge when the family need feeding - and there's not enough of any one item to go round". Three slices of a quiche, some leftover cooked potatoes and two cold cooked sausages, half a bag of salad leaves, some crisps, and a wedge of cheese. Plus a part baked baguette lurking at the back of the bread bin for emergencies, and some yogurts [the less popular flavours from the multipack which always get left till last!]  All piled onto the table with a stack of plates, and some cutlery in the big enamel mug. 
Yes I have served a meal like this. But I am not going to call it Picky Bits.  And I'm not sure about Sainbury's Picky Bits Offers...definitely not following Waitrose's suggestion of buying their Cantabrian Anchovies, Greek Halkidiki Olives, and Iberico Cheese Involtinis. [what are these ?]

I think I am going to pick a better sounding term. I may refer to a Cold Collation, as the Victorians did, or perhaps 'a few things from the deli counter'

If it is a meal made entirely of leftovers, then I call it orts - the Old English word for 'the food which remains after a meal'
How do you feel about picky bits?

Face-Off

The family dropped round, and I bought out the packet of Party Ring biscuits I'd hidden in the cupboard.

Rosie immediately cried "Grandma! Can we do the Biscuit Face Challenge?" So we all had a go. The rules

• biscuit is placed on forehead and moved to mouth
• only move it using facial muscles, no touching 
• if biscuit falls, you are out [pick it up, dust it, eat it!]
• one minute time limit

We all took part with differing results. Rosie changed seats after her first ring went down the back of the sofa. Jess was happy just looking through the hole

Bob concentrated really hard, and succeeded. At least he said he did. Unfortunately I'd turned away at the crucial moment so didn't actually see the ring disappear. But I trust him!

Important extra Cornerstones rules -

•  nobody gets more than three tries
• biscuits down the back of sofa should be retrieved promptly and put in the bin

I may be a grown-up, but I still enjoy Party Rings -  they have "less fattening centres" as they used to say in the Maltesers ad.

Have you played this game in your family?

Why do children love Party Rings so much?

Drawing Conclusions

Some bloggers are really good at art - Fat Dormouse  often adds a sketch to her posts, as does Kirsten. Sometimes it is a carefully constructed piece, other times a quick 5 minute sketch. But I am just no good at this. I have tried, believe me. In my personal sewing journal, I log all the projects I get involved in [in August I have altered 4 garments for friends and neighbours] but my sketches of these trousers and tops and dresses look nothing like the clothing I have been working on. And as for the garden logbook where I list my produce... Well I only managed six tomatoes this year, and I didn't think the 6 red scribbled circles are that spectacular.
I suspect FD & K would both encourage me by saying it is a practice thing, develop the habit of a 5 minute sketch every day and one will soon be creating great artwork [in my case, probably less Poulencs, more Pollocks!] 
I decided not to give up too soon. So over the weekend,  I marked the "eggs-to-be-used-up-first" with a red sharpie. It's a start...

Any suggestions for improving my drawing will be welcome!

Monday Madness

We went over to Kings Lynn to collect my embroidery machine [a long overdue service] and Liz and the girls came with us. We had a fun time exploring charity shops. Then we came back to Cornerstones. By our front door is a green bin for parcels. I keep a brick in it, to stop it blowing over. When we come home, we lift the lid, and usually say "just a brick!" Rosie has shortened this now to JAB! Today Jess ran to the bin and said Jab! But on the doormat was this card

We checked the parcel bin again. Then the big wheelie bin round the corner. The parcel was there.

Fortunately the bin was otherwise empty. But that is not a safe place!!!

The other bit of post had the most wonderful address

I love the idea of Bob Almond at His Shed.

He went off to do stuff, as did Liz. I was with the girls.

I'd promised Rosie she could have some nail varnish I didn't want. 

Jess volunteered to paint my toenails for me. 

I was given no choice about the colour.

I really must get her Auntie Steph to give her some tuition!

The things we grandmas do!

A Whale And A Worm

We were all at the Dinosaur Park. Steph was with the boys in the queue for the amazing Fossil Falls Slide. She sent me a WhatsApp "The children standing next to us are called Septimus and Nineveh" We speculated, was Septimus child #7 ? [J Rees Mogg called his sixth child 'Sixtus'] Bob wondered if there was an Octavia between child #7 and child #9 [maybe pronounced Nine-eva]

I suggested it seemed rather bizarre to call a child Nineveh. "Who was Nineveh? I know it's in the Bible" said Liz. I explained Nineveh was not a person,  it was a place [in northern Iraq]. And on the way home, I reminded my family of the story of Jonah. God sent him to Nineveh to preach to the people encouraging them to turn from their evil ways and do good.

 But Jonah didn't want to go, so he got on a boat going the other way. There was a storm and everyone was scared. Jonah said it was probably his fault for disobeying God, so they threw him overboard. He was swallowed by a whale.

After three days, the whale spits him out, and Jonah goes off and does preach to the people in Nineveh, who do repent and turn from evil to good. Jonah is a bit annoyed and goes off out of the city to have a sulk.

But the sun gets blazing hot. God makes a tree grow up to shade him. Then a worm eats up the tree and he is uncomfortable again and starts complaining that he wants to die. God suggests that the grumpy preacher cares more for his shady tree than he does for the thousands of people in Nineveh!

A good reminder to all of us to care for other people whose situation is much worse than ours [I did the turn from evil to good sermon last week]

But why would someone call their child Nineveh?? Beats me!

It's The Silly Season!

This phrase was first coined in the UK in 1861, describing late July. August and September. It is a period during the summer months when the papers publish trivial news stories to fill space, primarily because major institutions are in recess. During this time, stories about massive vegetables, strange animal behaviour, or Loch Ness Monster sightings often take centre stage in the news.
Here in East Anglia, we have had some rather ambiguous headlines, alongside bizarre photographs in the last couple of weeks. Julian and I were reading the Eastern Daily Press online over the weekend. We honestly couldn't decide of some of these captions with the accompanying pictures were deliberately chosen, or whether the head had gone to their heads.
For instance 

Sandringham Estate in Norfolk
hit by "Vermin Infestation"

The report does explain...A tenant, who did not wish to be named, told a national newspaper: "There are always rodents in an agricultural area like this, but most people can keep the numbers under control by having a cat."…However, tenants on the estate are banned from keeping cats under a rule introduced by the late Queen Elizabeth II to protect wildlife in the area. Despite the complaints raised at the council meeting, it is understood that the estate has not received any direct reports of vermin from tenants, . …It comes after Andrew Mountbatten Windsor's new home on the estate, Marsh Farm in Wolferton, was invaded by moles earlier this year.

Next My Grandsons are particularly keen on this local theme park. But this picture certainly made Julian and me laugh

Dinosaur Park gets green light for new look

We presume the exclamation mark is to be illuminated in future !!

Thirdly

Owners of "hidden" sauna, built without planning permission, fight to save it.
The bizarre thing about this story is that the sauna never was 'hidden' - the EDP had a big feature on it back in April when it opened.

The establishment is called The Hidden Sauna Club because it is off the beaten track, looking out over the countryside. It has proved incredibly popular. Quite why the owner thought she could build this without first seeking planning permission is unclear. But she is now applying retrospectively, claiming "the sauna is small in both scale and impact"
It is proving very popular, operating seven days a week, daytime and evenings, with sessions for up to 8 people at a time.[£20 an hour, if you're interested] So it's clearly a nice little earner. But the first sentence really tickled me
"The owners... hope the council planners WILL NOT POUR COLD WATER on its bid to stay in business" 
I don't know about the silly season, but as they say round here, it is

One final thing, picked up, bizarrely, by the Manchester Evening News before the EDP or the BBC reported it - the World Snail Racing Championship at Grimston in West NorfolK, was won this year by Snailor Swift!! [here]

Spud-U-Like*

The potato plants were looking awfully sad - and it is the middle of July, so I felt I should harvest them. 

It is not difficult when they are in pots, and in two rows of the raised bed. But they were somewhat varied in size, and rather earthy. I washed and dried them very carefully, then decided to sort them.

I am sure that the commercial potato growers have some sort of mechanical process for grading spuds. 

I used my rubber egg [which was mysteriously laid on my front drive about 15 years ago!] The potatoes were put into 4 groups thus:

• Bigger than the egg
• Egg sized
• Smaller than the egg
• Marbles [just a cupful of these]

I normally keep the potatoes I buy from the veg place in their brown paper sack, on the bench in the old garage. But it is baking hot in there at the minute. So these are all stored away, in separate containers, in the fridge. I found a fun pic on the internet

What does I Papiassos mean? Sounds like a Greek potato pun

Does anyone have any suggestions for what to do with the marble sized ones? 

If I can't think of a good way to cook them, they'll go into the compost bin.

*Back in the 90s, the family always pronounced the name of this fast food outlet as Spudoulikae, having decided it was a small village on a Greek Island in the Aegean Sea, famed for its tubers!