A double whammy last night - a Christy Moore gig at the Royal Festival Hall (one of my two favourite buildings in London, the other being Battersea Power Station). He's a fantastic singer, with one of those voices that, if you're Irish, you'll know straight away. He sounds like no other. And not many singers have the luxury of being accompanied by Declan Sinnott of Horslips.

A great set - some brilliant songs, listened to as much for the lyrics as the music. There was a Joni Mitchell one about the Magdalen Laundries - given the news coming out of Ireland these days, those lyrics made you sit up in your seat. And, being from Norn Iron, my night was made by a quick blast of 'I'll tell me ma'. But for me, the song that made the heart skip a beat was 'The well below the valley', with Moore accompanying himself on the bodhran.

There's no denying the quality of the music. My only quibble, ironically, would be the venue - Irish music doesn't lend itself to sitting down. Let's see them at the Roundhouse next time.

Lasagne followed by apple crumble

We have a friend from home staying tonight, and I am breaking with tradition by actually cooking. I will have to warn him that tonight's dinner represents my entire culinary repertoire (apart from soup). Rather embarrassingly, I have every cookbook under the sun, but I really just like looking at the pictures.

Tonight's recipes come from two of my favourites. The apple crumble recipe comes from The Dairy Book of Home Cookery. This has special memories - published in the sixties, it was the mainstay of my mother's cooking when we were growing up. She gave her copy to my sister (she's the domesticated one), who in turn bought me a copy when we were browsing in a sadly shortlived second hand book shop in Stromness (in the Orkneys).

The lasagne recipe comes from Eating to Win - a collection of favourite recipes donated by leading Irish rugby players of a couple of years ago. Thank-you Kevin Maggs! It's a great book - not least for the photos - but you can tell a lot about the players by the recipes they've suggested. Some of them are obviously from swanky restaurants, while others were clearly supplied by their mammies. Aw, bless!

Activity is the key to happiness ...

As a 19 year old, I spent a summer in Paris, as an au pair. It was a happy experience and one that left me with fond memories. Some (ahem!) years later, I find myself thinking about it. What prompted the nostalgia? A day spent working in the garden. I'm knackered, I doubt I will be able to stand in the morning, but I feel great. And it reminded me of Monsieur Pellerin, my 'au pair father'. A businessman during the week, he would spend the weekends working in the garden. And it was he who taught me one of my favourite sayings (made famous by Einstein, I think), 'l'activite est la cle du bonheur' - activity is the key to happiness. And so it is.

Great album - The Irish Scattering

May is birthday month for not only tandrageegirl herself, but two of her siblings, so a fair amount of present shopping is required. This year it was all relatively painless - if a tad expensive, on account of me buying two each of certain items (one to give away, one to keep). Embarrassing ...

One of the duplicates was a really brilliant album - The Irish Scattering, by Sean Keane. I'd never heard of Sean Keane before catching one of the songs from the album on RTE Lyric FM a couple of weeks ago, but I bought a copy each for my sister and myself. And for once, my mad optimistic faith was justified. I love this album, particularly "Fare thee well Enniskillen." BUT be warned - definitely not to be listened to if you're feeling at all homesick or maudlin (or have had a few jars).

Monsieur casual racist?

Yesterday, when I complimented a colleague on his 'Mr Grumpy' socks, we fell to chatting about the Mr Men series. He asked whether I knew that Mr Rude was French. I didn't, but I will admit to laughing soundly at the very puerile fart jokes on the Mr Men website. Just pull Mr Rude's finger and see what happens.

But then it struck me as a bit sad that yet another generation of English children will grow up hearing the same tired old stereotypes. And yes, I checked on the French-language section of the site - not only does Mr Rude appear as Monsieur Mal-Eleve (Mr badly brought up), but there is, alas, no sign of either Monsieur Rosbif or Monsieur Casual Racist.

The new Royston Vasey?

I'm working from home today, and ambled down the high street of my sleepy Surrey town at lunchtime. As my local - the fantastic Blue Cafe - was packed to the gills, I took my life in my hands and went to a very popular local eaterie. I say 'popular' yet am at pains to understand why. While the food is adequate and the service is good, there is a certain Royston Vasey-ness to it. The regulars are a little alarming. The first time I ventured in there, I had to defend myself against allegations of sitting too long alone at a table (from a patron, not the staff, I hasten to add), despite the place being half empty. This time it came back to me - in a sort of slow motion deja vu moment - that one of my reasons for avoiding it is that the main waitress (a friendly and efficient woman, obviously much loved by less grumpy customers) has got, quite conceivably, the loudest voice outside the Royal Opera House. There I was, working my way through the sudoku in the Times, my ears all but bleeding. So it was off to the Blue Cafe for a restorative latte. These quiet country towns can be hard going ...

Much ado about M&S's 125th anniversary - lots of retro packaging etc - which got me thinking about 1884 and other interesting developments that year. So here are the cream of the crop, courtesy of Wikipedia:

The Fabian Society is founded in London.
The first edition of the Oxford English Dictionary is published.
The cornerstone for the Statue of Liberty is laid on Bedloe's Island in New York Harbour.
The University of Wales, Bangor (UK) is founded.
The first woman receives a degree from the Royal University of Ireland.
The Irish Gaelic Athletic Association is founded in Thurles, Ireland.
Mark Twain writes The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.
The Third Reform Act gives the vote to almost every adult male in England.

A rainy day and a Monday ... but brightened somewhat by the return from holiday of my lovely boss. Having been in Japan for two weeks, she brought me a pair of kabuki-patterned socks (fantastic)and a wonderful coffee cup with a cartoon of Nikko's famous three monkeys. Of special resonance to me, as I was once chased down the road by a wild monkey at Kegon Falls, near Nikko. Offended by my efforts to take his picture, he lunged at me, prompting me to sprint off at a speed since neither before or since.

Soup of the day ....

In a bid to save money and be less of a porky pig, I have taken to making batches of soup at the weekend, then freezing them in individual portions, which I then heat up and take to work for lunch. Today I made pea and mint, tomato and coriander, parsnip and orange, and carrot and ginger, 15 portions in all. As you can see, I'm not great with multiple ingredients, but these are easy recipes, all from the much-loved Hamlyn Soups book.

The humble fig roll

On the way to work every morning, I pass a particularly beautiful fig tree. While I admire it for the shape of the leaves and the fruit, and the fact that it often harbours at least one chirruping feathered creature, I suspect that my love stems from its role in the creation of one of my favourite biscuits. Yes, the fig roll. Plain but oddly satisfying. And not unique to Ireland or the UK. Oh no. Aficionados holidaying in France need feel no withdrawal symptoms, for the supermarket shelves there groan under the weight of the Figolu.

Which I guess is my way of saying that if I don't get my RSS feed sorted soon, I will have wolfed a whole packet. The shame of it ....

Technology and red wine - a bad mix?

Quite possibly. But, on a positive note, I finally got to see 'I've loved you so long'. Excellent film. The French do tension better than anyone.

Vicki's tips for Eurovision

My friend Vicki's tips for tonight's Eurovision Song Contest (which I refuse to watch on the basis that life is too short). Comments in brackets are hers ....

Norway (cute 17 year old with a fiddle); Denmark (song written by Ronan Keating); Israel (Arab/Israeli singers warbling for peace); Estonia (very striking woman with shiny fringe and fiddle again); Azerbaijan (typical Euro pop trash but quite catchy!).

As you can see, it's a deeply thought-out analysis, based on scientific principles and mathematic formulae. Thank-you, Vicki!

Cartoon of the day

Modern Toss's 'Work Experience' cartoon in The Guardian - a little slice of joy every Saturday.

Weed or flower? Does it matter?

Much 'discussion' here over rather splendid things sprouting in the garden. Are they weeds? Are they flowers? And does it really matter, given that they are pretty and colourful?

VAN MORRISON - Tupelo Honey / Why Must I Always...

Signing out for the night with one of my favourite songs: VAN MORRISON - Tupelo Honey / Why Must I Always...

Tired of blogging about work stuff

So thought I'd have a bash at what really interests me. (Not that work doesn't, in case anyone from the office reads this). But what to start with? Well, it's a shi**y wet night here in Surrey, and I am knackered, but I did an online content course today and am keen to get going with it. A blog of my own seemed like the obvious place to start.

So - why the Yoshitomo Nara avatar? Well, I used to live in Japan, and I love his work - his characters are cute yet ars** - both charges that have been levelled at me. I prefer the latter.

And why Tandragee Girl? Tandragee, Norn Iron (as we pronounce it) is my hometown. There's not much to it, but even after years away, my heart skips a beat at the mere mention of it.

Keep reading for idle musings on other things that make my heart skip a beat ....