New Year's Honours

Mrs Pumphrey, when in full throttle, can cover a fair bit of ground in a very short space of time. And sometimes she can go through doors without opening them. Which is what happened this morning.

There I was, in the kitchen, cooking the last piece of meat I shall ever cook in my life(more of this later), when Mrs P comes crashing through the back door, full of end of year excitement.


'She's got it!!' she shouts. 'Mrs Miggins has got it!!!'

'Got what?' I say. I am thinking, how long do I boil this piece of poor dead gammonny piglet for? Do I really care?? God bless its little piggy soul.

'Oooh, it's so exciting,' continues Mrs Pumphrey. 'I knew she'd get it one day and she has.'

'Well,' I say, thinking of all the flu that is doing the rounds at the moment, 'if she will go outside in little more than a flimsy cardi and no tights, she'd bound to get it, isn't she?'

'What are you talking about?' says Mrs Pumphrey.
'Bird flu,' I say. 'What are YOU talking about?' I say.
'This!' says Mrs Pumphrey. And she waves a newspaper at me.


I squint, mostly because I've had to remove my specs because they keep misting up with the steam from the boiling poor dead gammonny piglet.

'What is it?' I say.
'This week's copy of 'Cocks and Hens,' says Mrs Pumphrey. 'Look at page 3.'
'Do I have to?' I say, because the last time I looked at page 3 of 'Cocks and Hens' mine eyes were assaulted by a full-frontal shot of Tango Pete wearing little more than a big beaky smile and a feather duster. At least, I think it was a feather duster.

'Yes,' says Mrs Pumphrey. 'Read the New Year's Honours List.'


I sit at the kitchen table and open the paper. And there, on page 3, under the list entitled CBE , is the name -'Mrs Laetitia Miggins, for services to egg-laying and comedy, sometimes both at the same time.'

'Mrs Miggins has been made a CBE!' I say.

'Yes,' says Mrs Pumphrey. 'A Chicken of the British Empire!'

So, back to the poor dead gammony piglet. I've made a decision following something Andy said over Christmas which, in hindsight, he made regret. We were watching an episode of 'Celebrity Come Dine With Me,' where one of the celebs, don't ask me who coz I've never heard of her, cooked some lamb for her guests despite being a vegetarian herself. Andy thought this was a no-no. He said that if she was a proper vegetarian she should make her guests eat veggie food; she certainly shouldn't be cooking meat for them.

I, having an unusually liberal moment, suggested perhaps she was merely being a good hostess and accommodating her guests' as a good hostess should i.e by putting them first. No, said Andy. If you're a veggie, you don't even cook meat.

And I thought, he's right. Up to now I have still cooked meat for my family (including a rather spectacular goose, God rest its soul, on Christmas Day) because I thought I shouldn't inflict my personal ethics on them, but now I am thinking, no more cooking meat. So if anyone chez the Manor wants dead animal to eat, from here on in they are going to have to cook it themselves.

Including sausages.

And finally, a warm welcome to the Much Malarkey Manor blog to Deanna. Lovely to see in the New Year with a Smiley New Face.