I've got some new French deodorant that advertises itself as vanilla flavour, but which smells inescapably of Play-Doh.
The net effect of this is that I keep having Proustian transportations back to the cottage where we lived when I was very young, and in particular to a blue snail* I fashioned from Play-Doh at the age of about five.
That masterpiece aside (and I think I probably had considerable adult assistance), I wasn't a very artistic child. I remember once at primary school attempting to make a blue pig* from papier-mâché applied liberally to a blown-up balloon (which excitingly had to be burst from the outside once the confection was complete), and getting very confused about where its eyes should be in relation to its snout. While my classmates managed to take home something appreciably porcine in appearance, I took home a misshapen blue ball with no discernible facial features whatsoever.
Umm, I'm not actually sure why I'm writing about this. Bloody Proustian deodorant.
In other news, I have taken the unusual (for me) step of making a pie from the rubbish pears and blackberries I found along the old railway track. I considered chucking in some rosemary and unripe figs as well, but common sense luckily stayed my hand. Mind you, it hasn't finished cooking yet - it might be inedible anyway.
Ahh, the countryside. It isn't much like London, is it?
* Clearly showing a predilection on my part for blue animals. Well I never.
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16 comments:
OOh - we made pigs too, although I have a nasty feeling it wasn't at prep school. Is 12 too old for a papier mache pig? Actually, right now I'm thinking 42 isn't too old for a papier mache pig.
You're never too old for papier-maché, GSE. Unless you're particularly unskilled in the medium, as I am.
I've never made pigs or pies but I did make my very first 'curd fritter' (??????/syrnik) today as there was nothing in the fridge for breakfast. Eggs, curds, sugar, even a dash of salt, flour and a hint of lemon, squidged together, splatted in the pan, fried up nicely and it comes out like a lovely fat pancake. Delicious. Why oh why isn't Russian food more famous?
Nice work BiB, but what are curds, exactly?
Curd cheese. I've sometimes seen it translated as cottage cheese, but it just isn't cottage cheese. It's smooth. ?????? in Russian, and a great staple there, delicious with raisins. Quark in German, and I've seen it on sale as quark in England. Is it perhaps fromage blanc in your cou du bosquet?
The smell of play doh is very evocative isn't it. I sniff my children's play doh all the time. They caught me once and I said I was checking it for germs.
I like getting Play-doh under my fingernails, most particularly the blue, and then cleaning them out. It's much like getting very, very muddy and then scrubbing up. You never feel as clean.
But pies, eh? That would suggest pastry. So have you been rubbing fat into flour? That also gets under your nails nicely. Or have you resorted to pate congelée. (How do you find the circumflex P?)
And blue animals. So the signs were there even earlier.
I was always rubbish at anything like that, papier mache, painting, sewing, woodwork etc.
I remember making pottery pots and "accidentally" taking someone else's, who'd been foolish enough not to scratch their initials on the base.
i last made a papier-mache pig when i was twenty.
i might do another one next weekend - why have a six-year-old if you're not going to exploit the craft possibilities?
i might put glitter on it.
yay blue things
oh yes, Quark, hhmmm, couldn't live without it.
when i lived in ireland i couldnt find it there either.
Decorating eggs, that was cool as well. And making paperweights out of plaster of paris. I made one for my dad. He said "Oh that's lovely, I must find some paper to put it on" which, even at 6 years old, I identified as sarcasm.
But back to first principles, why do you want your armpits to smell of vanilla?
Did you eat the pie yet?
We made papier mache faces. With large noses. And planets. And a sun.
re pies, pigs and figs. Is there a word game going on?
Good lord, I thought The Whales was talking about galatic papier mache faeces.
*puts the bottle of vodka away*
Being supremely uncreative, don't think I've ever done anything with papier mache. Other than coat a balloon with it.
Do you know, I only discovered on Saturday that Proust was A Big Gayer®?
I did attempt Remembrance of Things Past, a while back, now, and mean to again. However, I appear to have done something ridiculous which has resulted in my having no spare time whatsoever. Perhaps I shall eat some cake and go in search of it.
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