Fat Chips, Fat Jobs and Fat Bees

Firstly, I am relieved to see from my vantage point up here in my arty-crafty writing room, that I can see bees a-coming and a-going to and fro the top-bar hive, which is good as it means they have survived the recent cold 'n' snowy weather. Whether we shall be as pleased of their survival in a few months' time when they decide they want to swarm I do not know, but for the moment I am glad they are not lying therein their house in a dead and frozen lump of bee-icicle.

Secondly, I am sad to report that the Best Fat Chips in the World are no more. I shall take a moment of silence now in order to mourn their passing, and to sigh much in the same manner as I sighed when The Body Shop decided to stop making their Dewberry Shampoo.

Sigh...sniff....sigh....

This sad discovery (the chips, not the shampoo) was made yesterday on our trip out for Valentine lunch. Our favourite pub has revamped its menu. Which is okay. I understand this is what pubs do, although I don't understand the mentality of changing something for the sake of changing it, I mean, if it ain't broke, why fix it? Anyhow, I completed my lunch order with the words, 'And a bowl of your finest chunky chips, please.'

The barman said, 'The chips aren't quite so chunky any more. We've slimmed them down a bit.'

Slimmed them down? SLIMMED down a CHIP???? I'm sorry, but am I missing something here? If I wanted a thin chip I'd go to a chain of well-known burger bar. And the reason I never go to the aforesaid burger bar (whose name I dare not speak) to buy chips is because I might just as well buy a box of matches, dip them in salt and then nuke them with a blow torch. I'd get the same effect.

'Our new chips are just as nice as the old ones,' said the barman.

What I really wanted to say was, 'Well, why change them then?' but I didn't because it's not good for the soul to be contrary on Valentine's Day when one's hubbie has taken one out for lunch, so I said, 'Okay, ' instead and thought, 'They'd better be as good, or I shall be suffering the biggest disappointment since discovering that although a single Jaffa cake on Weightwatchers ProPoints Plan is one point, if you have two Jaffa cakes, they suddenly take up three points of your pitiful daily allowance which seems very bad Maths to me.

The chips duly arrived. They were okay. But they weren't The Best.

And, reader, I am sad to report that even a dollop of excellent sticky toffee pudding couldn't quite make up for the realisation that the Best Fat Chip has now become legend.

And this morning, whilst in a Fat Chip State of Depression, I have been job hunting because my current place of work, although (and I quote) is '99.9% certain' they will be able to upgrade my temporary maternity cover post to a permanent position ready for September, that 0.1% still threatens, and I feel I need to start looking elsewhere, just in case, because we do have a mortgage and bills.

My current workplace says it will let me know 'as soon as possible/ as soon as the financial projections are in/ as soon as other members of the department have informed us of their intentions.' The situation isn't helped by the fact that two of the department are on maternity leave and haven't decided on a full or part-time return, and another is expecting to go on maternity in the next three months and another is having interviews for posts in foreign climes.

I want to shout, 'My eggs have gone off and I don't do abroad, ergo I am a reliable catch!' but it's neither dignified nor ladylike, so I shall continue my gentle scouting around and let the Universe be my guide on this matter.

Other than that, did you know it is Galileo's birthday today? Even when they were burning him at the stake as a heretic for his crazy 'Earth-moving-around-the-sun' idea, he stuck to his theory. I bet he is up there now on his little cloud saying 'Told you so.'