We had eggy bread this morning, for the first time in ages, and remembered how delicious they were. For those who have never tried them they are slices of bread, soaked in beaten egg and shallow fried (just a touch of olive or sunflower oil.) A smear of tomato sauce completes the recipe.

An old war recipe book has recipes where powdered egg has to be used instead of fresh eggs which were in short supply. It got me thinking about the amount of eggs we use. Omelettes for an easy tea, scrambled for breakfast, poached, fried egg sandwiches, souffle, cakes; it would be very hard to do without them. Dealing with powdered egg must have been an absolute pain.

My mum gave me an old cookery book published by the egg marketing board in 1969 with recipes for eggs. The introduction begins ‘What is an Egg?’ An egg is an ellipsoid which is, funnily enough, something that is egg-shaped. Starting from this basic fact…..’ The book includes everything from how to boil an egg to 158 recipes including icings, sauces, curried eggs and quiches.

An acorn also an ellipsoid and contains the oak tree, the creatures which will live in its brances and even the families who will enjoy the shade while the egg contains a huge variety of sweet and savoury meals and the associated parties, weddings and funerals.

Even veggies (though not vegans) eat eggs and more and more people are choosing organic free range rather than battery eggs, reaping their rewards in the taste.

Despite the fact that trillions of people don’t receive Valentines cards, flowers or chocolates you can feel that you are the only single in a worldful of couples if you don’t receive one.  Well I haven’t - apart from the childrens and an e-card which looks suspiciously like it was sent by a friend or my mother!

Having fallen out with Gary a few weeks ago I am now single, but too busy and too hacked off to want to start a relationship with anyone else. Valentines day shouldn’t matter but when the world is full of hearts and flowers, colleagues and friends are discussing their evening plans - romantic dinners etc - and everyone asks everyone else if they got a card it is hard to be Valentine-less.

But maybe that’s more honest than all the cards, flowers and chocolates papering over the cracks of unfaithfulness, distrust and boredom which will reappear tomorrow when the day is done.

Valentines day has a fatal flaw…if love is true it manifests every day throughout the year. If it doesn’t then a day full of grand sentimental gestures really won’t make a jot of difference.

I cannot believe we are hurtling towards the end of February and how little time there seems to be to fit everything into . It’s like trying to pack a weeks holiday stuff for a family of four into a medium suitcase for one.

All the stuff I hope to do just won’t squeeze in and so I’m forever having to carry it over to the next day and add it to the list already there. If it gets done then, then other stuff gets carried over, and so on.

I feel as though I am forever racing but never winning, and I know I am not the only one. Women are amongst the most time poor especially if they have children and are working, even more so if they are also single

In the UK full-time workers work longer hours than the rest of Europe and get less holidays. No wonder we’re all shattered.

Children’s care, time attention, school meetings, feeding and shopping can’t be skipped, work has to be done, as does housework, paying bills, home maintenance, commuting, travel time and then seeing friends and family and all the other things that arise that take extra time. I

’m ranting but I don’t have an answer.

Leave newspapers and magazines with articles on Valentines day including the date and advertisements for Valentines gifts lying in places where your partner will see them.

Discuss Valentines day loudly with friends at work and make bets as to who will get the least, or most; every time anyone is around

Make a pact with a friend to send each other one just so you don’t face the cardless void of a doormat on the 14th.

Send your single friends one and add one for yourself.

Send a seductive poster of yourself (with your address on the bottom) to oil rigs or mens’ prisons.

Run a competition. The best Valentine card sent to this (your) address will win…. (one of your unwanted Christmas presents.)

Dress up in your most seductive outfit, do your hair and make up as though you were on the cat walk, and accidentally drop your business card everywhere you visit.

Start a chain Valentine threatening dire consequences for those that break the chain - make sure you work it so that you end up with 100’s.

Serve tea or volunteer behind the bar at places where elderly men hang out such as bowls clubs, working mens clubs or residential homes. Let them know you’re single, and find them very attractive and mention your address. (for example, “yes we don’t get such good looking men in Priory Street. Ive lived at number fourteen for ten years and never seen anyone that’s a patch on you.”) Emphasise the street name and number!

Flirt with nerds.

Know that the one you get made of coloured tissue and paper doily will be your all time favourite, because it is ‘to Mum, Happy Valentines Day, lots of love…”

Following on from 2nd Feb, bras made me think of boobs and what a huge subject they are. It’s not just the palava of measuring up to get one that fits properly and they way they grow whenever weight is added, so that many women with really big boobs are chubby, but then their boobs are saggy and have to be bundled into giant hammock like bras, or scaffolding in white, beige or black and serviceable rather than pretty, just to ensure that their self esteem plummets along with their boobs.

To breast feed or not to breast feed is a minefield of guilt for those that really don’t like the idea, can’t get their baby to get to grips with it, or find it just doesn’t work. New mums obviously want to do the best for their baby so if their choice is not to, then that is the best for both the baby and mum, whatever the experts say. Heaping piles of guilt on the head of a new mum so that her confidence in her new mothering role is shaken, has got to be a lot worse than her choice not to breast feed.

The media, stars and men in general make such a hoo-ha about them that girls as young as fifteen are asking for boob jobs to make them feel attractive. Strange that In the same world women with breast cancer have to suffer the trauma of a masectomy and somehow regain their self confidence in the midst of all this bosom worship.

The shops (fashion, not greengrocers) are displaying underwear to entice men thinking of buying a valentine gift, who are brave enough to choose wisps of lacy nothingness while being served by giggling assistants or middle aged ladies that remind them of their mum.

The choice of knickers alone, is unbelievable although it is probably easier for a man because he just chooses sexy. However, unless he knows her exact size he will get it wrong. If he chooses something that is too big, she thinks he thinks she’s fat, too small and she knows they won’t fit, but won’t admit it so he thinks that she doesn’t like them.

Women have to choose from briefs, hi-leg, thongs, sexy, big knickers, French knickers or elasticated body shapers. Their knicker drawer needs to contain, best sexy knickers, every day knickers and body flattening or big knickers for those fat days.

The trouble is that (like the Bridget Jones film) it is often when wearing the biggest, oldest or saggiest knickers when you wish you were wearing the sexiest.

I wonder why we say a pair of knickers instead of a knicker – although we say knicker drawer? Yet we never refer to a pair of bras.

Shampoo.
Dirty hair. Bald head.

Razor.
Bearded men. Hairy legged women. Furry edged bikinis.

Face cream.
Wrinkly faced thirty year olds.

Nail varnish.
Dirty nails, exposed! Beige hands.

Deodorant.
Smelly people. Stinky tubes and buses. Pheronome fuelled love affairs.

After Shave.
Stinking men’s sheets that (you now realise) haven’t been washed for months.(Ditto, underwear!)

Perfume.
Women who can’t pretend they never suffer with flatulence.

Make up.
Plain or unattractive models, film and pop stars. Raised self esteem for ordinary women.

More ideas welcome!