logsylou.co.uk » coffee

something in the way she knows, and all i have to do is think of her.

logsylou — Thu, 03 Nov 2011 10:15:47 +0000

Coffee. Toast. Sunshine. Washing. News. Frozen Planet. Work. Applications. Piano. The boy. Lasagne. Book. Bed. My day is going to go something like that. Have good ones! I’m doing an excellent job lately of posting completely irrelevant pictures, so why change that now? The divine Patti.

there’s a place, where i can go

logsylou — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 09:32:40 +0000

I’d quite happily stay at home all day drinking coffee and browsing blogs and thinking about haircuts (ok, does anyone else credit this with as much importance/thought/time as me? (and then get to the hairdressers and say ‘same as last time, please’)). Which is what I’ve been doing so far this morning and which is about to be rudely interrupted by my having to get ready for and going to work. Have you all seen my blog roll? Down there on the right. Those are my everydayers. But I often forget to update it. But obviously I have just reminded myself, so have updated accordingly. Louder Than Silence: they make life (and East London) look so dreamy and she always looks so great. Winner.

do you cry out in your sleep?

logsylou — Sat, 17 Jul 2010 10:10:57 +0000

Coffee time! And a ham sandwich for brunch due to my lack of butter and thereby the inability to make the toast of my dreams (well, it’s not strictly a sandwich, rather some ham in pitta – have I ever mentioned my phobia of the humble sandwich?). But that’s enough about pitta. I’ve got to work later, boo. Though I don’t mind really since the sun has decided to completely disappear and the Manchester rain is back with a smile on its face. Have lovely Saturdays! Hope the sun shows his face where you are.

hope you have a lot of nice things to wear

logsylou — Tue, 13 Jul 2010 15:59:57 +0000

Anyone else wish they were in polka-dots with the sand beneath their feet? At the moment I’m drinking coffee, trying to speak in French and pondering a massive overhaul of my record collection. All lovely, but I do rather wish I was in polka-dots, sand beneath my feet, not a care in the world…

i use a cobra snake for necktie

logsylou — Sun, 14 Mar 2010 13:57:56 +0000

Well, my holidays are coming to an abrupt and wholly uninvited end. I’ve had a lovely time, but don’t they go quick? In a flash, one might say. So, in an effort to combat the blues, the countdown to Glastonbury now begins, proper. It’s like 14 weeks away. That’s like nothing. Speaking of which, we booked our coach yesterday (cue lots of excitement about the reality of the situation) – let’s hope it doesn’t take the 15 hours that it did last year (no, seriously, it took fifteen hours, proper), not least because they are showing the football at the Pyramid Stage at 3pm on the Wednesday. I can’t miss it, it wouldn’t be right.

In other news, the wardrobe is still shiningly/spankingly/stupidly tidy. Two plus two definitely equals four in my wardrobe. (If you don’t already know, that was a beautifully subtle reference to the fact that I: a) tidied my wardrobe earlier this week, and b) went to see 1984. Not so subtle anymore, huh?) I hereby vow to run more and shop more. The two are inextricably linked, don’t you know.

So far today I have cooked a pot of chilli (beyond impressive, I know) and bought the paper and April’s Vogue. The boy has tidied my desk for me; it’s ever so immaculate. I love nothing more than an immaculate desk, the Sunday paper, the new Vogue and bowls of fresh chilli! That’s my Sunday afternoon sorted then.

By the way, the soundtrack of the week has been Francoise Hardy mixed with a touch of Bo Diddley. Did you know that no-one makes me want to be French more than Francoise? You do now.

i could tell he was a bum by the muddy boot he wore

logsylou — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 09:37:58 +0000

I can’t decide if I want/need/love these brogues from Urban Outfitters or not. Instinctively, I love them. But on second thoughts, I worry that they might me look like a golfer or (worse still) a darts player. Or even a cowgirl? But I really, really, really want them. The birds-eye view is my favourite and since that’s where I’ll be seeing them from the most that must be a good thing, right? So, tell me I’m won’t look like a darts girl (remember, I’ve already got the mullet!) and I’ll get them.

Aaah, I just looked at them again, they’re so beautiful! I’m think I’m just going to get them, darts or no darts!

Today, I’m getting my country fix on the turntable with Country Greats Volume Two. Amazing. I think you should do the same. Also, I just forgot about my coffee, so when I took my first sip it was already on the turn to cold. Nothin’ worse than a sip of cold coffee, so I had to down it in one. Ok, bye! I’m going to get the shoes!

oh won’t you please play a song, a sentimental song, oh my sentimental friend over there?

logsylou — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 17:32:20 +0000

The BBC weather website = my bible. By 18:00 we’re set to be at -8. Minus eight degrees celsius. I’m sorry, but that ain’t normal. Not in my day! Oh, and it’s supposed to snow again tonight, while the temperature casually lingers at -11. Today, for the first time ever, I had a momentary longing for some ear muffs (my ears were really hurting, despite a generous covering of hair). I’m always perplexed by anyone wearing ear muffs and walking along the street with someone else (even worse when they’re both wearing them). Surely you can’t carry out a normal conversation whilst sporting the cosy equivalent of headphones? Maybe I’m wrong, but whatever, something to warm the ears wouldn’t go a miss on these silly-cold days (nor would some sort of nose warming device, come to think of it – any ideas welcome).

So, what to do on a very-sub-zero January afternoon? Well, I got out of work early-ish. Good start. On my way home popped into Barnado’s charity shop to check out their record selection. Was not overly enthralled by the choice (ie. it was mostly cack) and left with the only two records in there worth buying (Herman’s Hermits and a 50s compilation, if you must know). “Thanks very much,” I said to the man who served me, to which he replied, “No, thank you, thanks for helping out.” Now, that man is not being paid to be nice, so he must’ve really meant it, right? How nice is that? He then asked me if I’d be okay with a Morrisons carrier bag; I didn’t have the heart to ask for something more upmarket (you know, Waitrose, or at least Marks and Spencers) so, in a very two-thousand-and-now way, told him I’d use my own bag. But seriously, despite the Morrisons-bag-debacle, I’ve made a mental note to pass the love on pronto. For now, though, I’d just like to say, if you’re listening, “Nice one, Barnado’s man, you’ve made my day.”

So now I’m home and slowly thawing out. I’ve had a bowl of winter vegetable soup. I’d love to say it was home-made, but it wasn’t. I did throw some of my own broccoli in though – very inventive, I thought. Now I’m sat with a coffee, listening to Herman’s Hermits, scanning all the polaroids I took over Christmas into my computer. Oh I do love drinking coffee and listening to Herman and his Hermits and playing with Christmas polaroids! Do keep warm, won’t you chaps.

don’t let them fool ya, or even try to school ya, oh no!

logsylou — Tue, 05 Jan 2010 10:28:27 +0000

Woooosh! Snow! Loads of it! This is that proper sort of snow that almost makes you want to go outside in hats and gloves and with everything tucked in and have a snowball fight. (It doesn’t really, I couldnt think of anything I’d less want to do than throw snowballs at someone and have them throw snowballs back at me. Not only is it unnecessary activity, it’s also just bloody unpleasant. Drinking steaming cups of fresh coffee (from our new espresso machine) and looking out on the white stuff will do me just fine, thanks).

Today I am listening to Bob. Marley, that is. He’s a bit of alright, isn’t he? Seriously though, if you wanted to be responsible for a greatest hits album, you’d want to be responsible for the Legend album. It is packed with unbelievably good songs, from start to finish, to the point where you feel yourself wanting to repeat each song before moving on to the next one. I am listening to it on vinyl (naturally!) which somehow (if at all possible) manages to enhance it’s quality further. I love Bob.

Anyway, enjoy the snow, kids! If you don’t fancy the seemingly compulsory snowball fight, follow my lead… Dust off your Legend album (as if it needs dusting?) and make yourself a froffee-coffee!

'tis the season to be jolly

logsylou — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 19:41:55 +0000

Yesterday the Christmas markets opened up for general consumption in Manchester. Ohhh yes. This is a very important day in the year as it significantly marks the beginning of the jolly season. If you ain’t jolly from here on in, then there’s something seriously wrong. I mean, how can you fail to be jolly as you stroll arm in arm through the glistening/glowing/hustling/bustling German markets? Your eyes are quickly darting between fairy-lit stalls, your ears are inundated with festive chitter-chatter and the intense sizzling of sausages, your nose simply cannot keep up with the variety of culinary treats on offer, your hands can’t help but reach out to the quaint wooden instuments and matryoshka dolls, and you just cannot stop ooh’ing, aah’ing and eek’ing (albeit involuntarily). Basically, nothing can possibly compete with the markets in terms of festive jollity.

Conveniently, my day off this week coincided with the opening of the markets, and so up I got and off I went, the boy in tow, wrapped up in appropriately festive attire (a woolly scarf counts, right?). We casually wandered (by ‘casually wandered’, I actually mean ‘strategically navigated’) around the stalls and eventually the gravitational pull of the Windmill Bar caught us and I ended up having a pint of Krombacher on an empty stomach. Krombacher on an empty stomach = festive tipsity. But it’s totally allowed, because the lights glisten more brightly and that sausage is so much more satisfying after a cheeky pint.

Speaking of sausages, there is an unprecedented variety of sausages on offer at the markets this year. Also a commendable choice of cheese/chocolate-covered fruit/strong german beers/mulled wine/luxurious liqueur coffees. I love the novelty of being able to walk around the markets with your drink too – makes you feel like you’re on your jollies! I also loved the seemingly incongruous availabilty of the Lancashire hotpot. In fact, that’s next on my Christmas market to-eat list.

if i knew you were comin’ i’d've baked a cake

logsylou — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 17:21:28 +0000

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: never, I repeat, never leave the house on a Saturday. If it doesn’t involve cocktails, I can guarantee it’s not worth the trip. Everything takes five times longer than usual and everything/everyone/everywhere is ten times more annoying than usual. There are far better ways to spend a Saturday; baking cakes, for example. Once you’ve licked the bowl and that delicious baking aroma beings to spread, have a good old polish, make the place nice’n'cosy, get your socks warming on the radiator, get the coffee a’brewing, and before you know it you’ll be nestled on the sofa eating home-baked treats, drinking coffee (go mad – pull the Tia Maria out!), toes all cosy, watching The Railway Children. Much better than facing the general public on a Saturday. But, can I just add (in case you do decide to follow my cake-baking-on-a-Saturday advice), here’s some more: make sure the exercise is semi-altruistic….in other words, don’t eat all the cakes yourself. Knock on your neighbours’ doors and share the wealth! Cakes make the world go round, after all.

I talk a good cake-baking game, don’t I? But I am, indeed, all talk. Of course I haven’t baked any cakes today (for that would’ve involved going to the shop to get the ingredients – no, I’m not the kinda gal who has flour and cake tins and all those other cake-baking sort of things casually lurking in her cupboards). Nor have I managed to polish anything, get the place cosy, or treat myself to some warmed up socks (I don’t have any radiators). The most I’ve managed is a quick hoover, an instant coffee, a slice of toast (or four) and a Coronation Street omnibus. Oh, what a wholesome life I lead! Let’s hope the rest of evening holds more cosy hope…