Dec9

What I learned this week Dec 3 – 9

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Well, I just learned that I thought it was still November, when I was putting in the dates up there. Sheesh.

You already know, but it bears repeating: I learned that hubby can’t put the lights on a Christmas tree. Awww.

I learned that Bear, who hasn’t ever met iDJ, is still willing to make fun of him. I love that! Those two will get along so well when they finally meet.

I learned that when I told hubby the top of the tree looked bare, he was willing to try to fix it. He took a stance quite similar to Bear’s while doing so:

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His arse isn’t really that big. Those are my sweats he’s wearing; I stretched them out. His hair is that poofy, though, when it needs a wash! Yes, it’s a crappy iPad photo and hard to see. The brownish oval thingie behind his back (the brownish oval thingie that is bigger than the arse I was worried you would think is fat) is actually the rest of his hair. Floofy in human form!

I learned I have to wait until February for more Walking Dead. And, I like the show so much better now that a certain person is no longer part of the cast. I don’t ‘do’ spoilers, no fair asking who annoyed me so much! Guesses are accepted.

I learned that we have all of season three of The Killing (Danish version), so now I know that my TV for the holiday season is sorted, even without zombies. Wonder if Sarah Lund gets a new jumper this season?

I learned that I’m more likely to draw something if someone asks me to. Ask away! I need inspiration, it seems.

I learned that I’m getting a shit-ton of spam lately, mostly on my face-chewing and Poulnabrone posts. Wtf? Why those? And why is all the spam about knock-off handbags? When did I ever mention handbags, except to say I don’t use one? Must be a holiday thing. I expect you are all getting the same spam sandwiches, too.

I learned that someone in the UK has been reading a lot of my past nonsense. Thank you! But please say hello now and again? I’m rather sad that my older posts get no lurve anymore (not that I have the time to read back on anyone’s blog, either).

I learned my town finally stopped using full-sized incandescent light bulbs on the town tree! The bratty hellspawn locally would break the ones they could reach, and the cost to keep them lit? Ouch on tender dog-feet and ouch to the city’s electric bill. But unless the little brats bring pliers with them, the new LED’s should be safe.

We learned that we were the only two people wearing holiday hats at the tree-lighting ceremony. Except for Bella the greyhound with her antlers, we were the only ones dressed for the occasion.

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Ok so this wasn’t taken at the lighting ceremony, this is Bella being a grey at home on the couch. Tonight it was too dark, even next to the LED tree, for my phone. iDJ’s fancy new(er) one that has a flash decided it had no battery left (a dirty, stinking iPhone lie, we found out, after we got home). Bella looked much more festive tonight in her new jacket and holiday-themed collar.

I learned, on Friday, that I get another chance at having a needle stuck into my spine this Tuesday. Hopefully they will have a spot for me this time. I was looking forward to sharing this pretty scary experience with you last week, and it depressed me when it fell through.

Finally, I learned that Spottie still is obsessed with strings. Its probably been two years since we let him play with a cotton cord, because he goes, well, a bit OCD. Today I brought something out of the box room (a kitty no-go zone) and it had strings. (I can’t say what, it involved making something for gifts). Spot went nuts when he saw the first string, and started chirping in the way that I know means ‘MAKE IT MOOOOVE!’ It’s probably my fault as I know exactly what every tone of meow means, and I shouldn’t translate for iDJ as he’s a big sucker. I kept up with my work, but hubby chose to be trained by the cat. Over and over, for at least an hour. Many hours later, the strings are on the floor and Spot is obsessively sitting near them, staring, and asking me, iDJ, and even the dog to MAKE IT MOVE.

Back in the box room for another few years, I think.

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Dec8

Poked in the what?

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We have our tree! Bought last Sunday and left to drip water, needles and dirt on the floor for two days. Oh lawsy it was filthy! Looked great when propped sideways in the pile of lesser trees, in the pitch-black gas-station parking lot where we bought it. Not so lovely when it left smears of dirt on the door frames and walls as we dragged it inside.

After it dried off, we wanted to put the lights on first, as you do.

When it was time to do the lights, I sort of “forgot” that putting the lights on the tree is my job. Ok, I tried to pretend that I forgot. iDJ is always so happy and, um, proactive, about putting the lights in our windows. I pretty much attempted to make him think that all of the lights are his job. He copped on right away but decided he would still give it a try. Win! Sort of.

I was in the room when he started. For moral support. Because when he does anything new, he requires an audience, and everything he does must be narrated. As you do. Of course, I got to hear a few complaints/comments on how I wrapped up the lights for storage the year before (well, yah, I wrapped them up in a way that made sense to me. I do the damn lights, after all). And I had to give tips on where to start (leave a bit extra so you can poke it up into the tree-topper, don’t forget). Par for the course – I’m used to his foibles by now. And I had beer. Nothing could perturb me.

A little bit of back story now. Just to set the scene, and give you an idea of how very brave iDJ was in offering to put the lights on the tree.

For the last two years we’ve bought a short-needled tree, of a totally unknown genus, because I don’t like the long-needled pines they have here. They are too soft and droopy for all my heavy ‘Merican ornaments, and, well, I just prefer a tree with shorter needles. For me a Christmas tree is not any variety of pine. It took me five years to convince my hubby that a short-needle tree wouldn’t kill him.

You see, he has told me that about ten years ago, a tree did try to kill him. He was putting lights on a tree at his workplace and got poked by the needles. Apparently he had a very bad reaction to this. I’m a very unsympathetic person and while I remember the story, I didn’t take it seriously at all.

However, when he started to put the lights up, he only got this far:

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Yeah, it’s hard to see. It’s my only photographic evidence, however. He wrapped a tiny bit of the string of lights around the very top of the tree and then he had to stop. Immediately, and quite vocally.

Because he got poked in the dick.

Yep.

He got pricked in the prick. Lanced in the langer. Skewered in the sausage. Needled in the…well, I’ll stop with the comparisons there, I think.

Needless to say, that was the end of him putting lights on our tree that evening.

Being the unsympathetic person that I am, I said that it was no problem, I would finish the job the next day. And then I bit my lip until Oirish Tirsday when I could giggle over the story with Socks.

Socks got to laughing so hard over the idea of iDJ wussing out and running away from a tree that it became contagious and I forgot to be grumpy and realised there was indeed something funny in my life after all.

But it gets better. Socks loved this story so much that she told her hubby, Bear. Today, I got this photo in my inbox (face changed to protect the sarcastic):

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This is Bear, making fun of my hubby from 3,000 miles away. I love this man!

And yes, when putting the ornaments on the tree tonight, iDJ got poked in the dick again. Sigh.

Dec4

Whatever.

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I did take today off, and did not let my work know that my hospital appointment was cancelled. I slept in until the lazy-ass hour of 9:30, drank coffee until my smokes ran out, and then walked into town, even though hubby left me the car and biked to work. I’ve not had a walk into town by myself in months, and I’ve missed it. Used to go nearly every day with the dog…

So, icy rain, and a lot of it. I can deal with that. I do own a hat and boots. I bought my smokes and had a chat with the ladies at the paper shop where my mother in law works, and then met her, herself, on the street and had another chat. Then I bought popcorn, and my addiction: Snyder’s of Hanover Buffalo Wing Pretzel Bites. I’m drooling just typing that. American snacks are rare here, and plain pretzels are considered rather disgusting. But the Snyder’s ones have managed to stick around for at least a year. Cost €2 a small bag, too. They are a real day-off treat.

Had another long talk with a good friend at his workplace on the main street, and got home in time to put up most of the tree lights before hubby got home for lunch. After he went back to work, I finished the tree lights (but nothing else) and turned on the TV for 2002 reruns of CSI (great to nap to) and curled up on the couch with not only both cats, as usual, but the dog, too.

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Neko irritates the shit out of me, because if I ask her to come up on the couch, she runs and hides. But if I get my blankets sorted out and act like I’m going to lie down for a bit, she invites herself up. I do not get this behaviour. Sigh. I expect her to be happy to be invited, and obey. The couch is an invitation-only space for her. Or it’s meant to be, anyway. iDJ can ask her and she jumps right up with a smile. Did I kick her off for the presumption? No. She’s already terrified of me, why make it worse? I miss my previous dog. Not been able to talk about him here, yet.

Well. Anyway. I’m a bit sad as today is the one-year anniversary of the day I got the most hits on my blog. Not come close since, and with an hour left in my day, I’m at one of the lowest counts ever. Why do I even care, really? But I thought maybe today, as it was meant to go, might have been interesting: instead? the above. Yay for having a job again, hmmm? All I can do on a day off is be a slug. I can’t even say that I’m less stressed for having more money. I’m more stressed. Way, way, more stressed. I’m exhausted, I feel terrible all of the time, and I do nothing that is fun. If it might actually be fun, I get no joy of it.

Whatever. I have to go to bed. Got to get up and brave the icy roads in the morning.

Dec3

QuickQuiz

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Hey, do I go to work tomorrow or not? Took the day off for a medical appointment, came home to find it cancelled. I have 12 holiday days left before the end of year, which they will pay me for if unused, but I’m also about 2 months behind as there’s so much work.

Answers by comment please, I can’t seem to put up a poll!

Dec2

What I learned this week Nov 19-Dec 2

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Oh, dear. The first thing I learned was right after my last post. I learned that my husband doesn’t know how to wash a really, really, sharp knife.

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He’s lucky that at the bottom of that deep cut there’s the green scratchy bit that didn’t slice so easily. Or I would have been learning, again, about Ireland’s A&E waiting room. I also learned he never even knew he did this.

I learned that when I squeeze the old water and suds out of a bifurcated sponge, it squirts all over me, and the floor, and it is best to just retire it and get a new one. I’m thrifty, and will use it for something disgusting before I throw it out; but I’m not so thrifty I will put up with a squirting clown-flower for a dish sponge.

I just learned there was a bad car crash locally, and I might be going to another funeral soon. We were out driving about the same time, the fog was pretty bad. Hope I’m wrong about the funeral.

Speaking of cars and driving, I learned that black ice is quite possible in Ireland. And I learned my car is a deathtrap. It’s only my years of driving in Ohio snow that kept me on the road, albeit not in the direction I wanted the car to go. Warmer weather this week, new tires next weekend I hope.

I learned…no. I knew, but just confirmed, that I will never spell tire ‘tyre’ on my blog. I might have to do it at work but NO, not here. I also will not pronounce the letter Z, when spelling something out loud, as ‘zed.’ It’s a Zee, and that is that. I also will always say vy-tah-min and not vit-ah-min. I just cannot do it.

I learned that my Irish and English coworkers still know what I mean when I say zee and don’t even raise an eyebrow. Heh.

I learned that the socks that tried to kill me are about the warmest damn socks ever, and I love them.

I learned that after all the years I’ve done it, I still expect my animals to be freaked out when we bring in the Christmas tree. I’m either really good at having/training indoor pets, or I somehow picked ones that are entirely laid-back and mellow. We brought in a tree seven feet tall, nearly five foot wide at the base, stinking of tree and all the places a tree could possibly have been and of all the animals that could have possibly peed on it, or lived in it, not to mention the parking lot and van we shoved it into. And they ignored it entirely. All of them. Even the cat that never sees or smells a tree until we drag one into the house once a year. Not learned much here about them, just about me wondering why they are such good ‘kids.’

Nov30

Barley Stuffing

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I had a lot of people ask me to share my barley stuffing recipe. Well, three people. But hey, that’s three people who are interested and might benefit from my wealth of knowledge! HAHAHAHAHHA, gasp, HAHAHAHAHHA, wealth.

I got this off the net at some point, because I really, really, hate bread-based stuffing. Was always more than happy to help mom tear bread into chunks to make it, but I’ve always had a disgust for anything involving bread cooked in meat juice. I like bread, I like meat, but there’s just something… ooky… about the two together when the bread is wet. * shudder*

I wondered, one day, what I could use instead of bread to stuff a turkey or chicken. Rice is too sticky, and brings bad memories of a not-favourite-of-mine meal my mother cooked called ‘porcupines’ (no, I’m not kidding. It’s sort of surprising I’m not a vegetarian after that, isn’t it?), so I thought of barley. I love barley. I find the texture fascinating; squishy but firm, soft but a bit chewy, and the little bit of husk gives me the smug feeling that I’ve actually eaten something with ‘good’ fibre in it.

But, I hate onions. So this is an onion free version.

Sorry for the US measurements. I still think in American when cooking! But as with cooking rice, it’s one part barley to two parts broth. Use a coffee cup to measure, who cares? This isn’t baking, there’s no need to be exact. My ‘teaspoons’ are usually just eyeballed or dumped into the palm of my hand. We all do this. I love cooking like this (and this is why I’m a terrible baker).

1 cup pearl barley
2 cups broth (I love beef with barley, but for stuffing I used chicken. I expect vegetable broth would work also)
a shit-ton of salt. As much as you feel is too much. Barley needs salt. And I’m a bit of a salt junkie. Meh, use as much as you want, but my notes from the first time said ‘more salt’ and I went a bit mad this time, by accident. I actually did an iDJ and talked to the barley: “Oh, shit. Sorry. Whoops!” But it was perfect.

Throw in about 1 teaspoon each of whatever dried herb strikes your fancy. I like sage and thyme for a traditional stuffing flavour. And parsley, because it’s green and pretty. It’s not necessary, though.

Put that on to a boil and reduce to a low simmer, covered, as soon as it boils. In the meantime:

Sautée in butter 4 minced or pressed cloves of garlic, with half a minced green or red bell pepper (I used a red one every time, and it was perfect) and either the same amount of minced carrot, 1/2 inch chunks of celery, or both (onion people, this is your chance. Just don’t tell me about it, ok?). The carrot didn’t add much but color and maybe a vitamin or two, really. I didn’t use it last time and didn’t miss it.

Once the sautéed veggies look and smell like heaven, dump it in the pot with the barley. Leave it on low and stir it now and again just to make sure it’s not getting over cooked and dry. When it gets really sticky and there’s no water left, it’s probably done. You can taste it and make sure. Just try to leave some for the dinner later.

Nov27

Oh, Balls!

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Hey! I learned that I’m only half the eejit I thought I was! Look what I found:

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Yep, hanging off one of the many, many loops of my pothos plant is – the balls off my socks. The ones that I thought Lokii had eaten. Woot! I put them there because he never goes up there, even though he could. He’s not a plant-eater, and even Spot seems to also have no interest in the pothos.

The plant is on the wall-mounted TV rack in our bedroom, one of the things we didn’t bother to remove when we moved in. I suffered it to remain as it makes a great plant stand, and because I will permit a TV in my house, but not one in my bedroom.

Nov25

What I learned this week Nov 18-24

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I don’t feel very edumacated this week. I’ll have to think hard for this one!

I (we) learned to get a second opinion when asking the Internet what temperature to cook a turkey. Dinner was meant to be on the table about 9:30 – it wasn’t done until 11:30. We were tired and cranky as hell by then. It was still really, really tasty, and we didn’t need to stuff ourselves into a coma when it was already soooo late.

I learned that my barley stuffing is friggin’ awesome. It would make a good side dish anytime. I’ll share if you like (it’s nearly vegetarian, only the chicken bouillon would need to be swapped out).

I learned that really old pumpkin purée, if not frozen because you can’t be bothered, turns sort of white and smells of bleach. But if you scrape off the white part on top, it’s lovely orange underneath and makes a good pie, even if you’re a little afraid to eat it at first.

I’ve learned that it is possible that my husband knows where a rarely-used kitchen implement might be located.

I learned that my husband was willing to try to make whipped cream by hand, when I didn’t find the whippy-attachment for the food processor where he said he thought it was.

I learned that he trusted me when I said I’d looked there, already.

I learned that I am still capable of being an asshole. Well, that shouldn’t have been surprise.

I learned we can get American Football over the net. Live from CBS. Go Browns!

I learned that nearly 8 years away from live American TV let me forget you guys are forced to watch commercials every damn 8 minutes. I am soooo sorrrryy.

I learned that American commercials are as stupid as they were 8 years ago.

I learned that the US pronunciation of ‘mobile’ as in ‘mobile phone’ now sounds totally silly to me. MO-bīle. Not moble. I’d shudder less if you said it like the city of Mobile, AL (That’s Mo-BEEL, for anyone not from the South).

I learned that I hate taking a shower as much as I hate having to go to work. At least the experience is shorter.

I learned how to upload to YouTube and post wherever I want! Just wait until I feel like uploading vids from ‘the real camera.’

I’ve learned it is possible to put away Halloween and bring down Christmas before December starts! Even when I don’t feel like Christmas at all! I’m not unpacking it yet, of course. I need a tree first. Next weekend?

I’ve learned that I still haven’t learned that when I know Lokii is going to steal and eat something, I need to remove it from his reach. I feel even worse about this after reading that a friend’s cat is in the hospital for eating a plastic bag. Lokii ate some plastic foam from a Halloween decoration and the fuzz balls off the socks that tried to kill me are missing. I knew better and I still didn’t move these things. And then I “gave out” (another Irish expression for you) to iDJ for not taking the tasty blanket off the bed every morning.

I learned, again, that I am still capable of being an asshole…

Nov23

Socks and Button update!

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I’ve had some requests to know how Socks and Button are doing. My blogging about Socks was meant to only be me following her pregnancy from a long-distance viewpoint, along with our initially shared view of ‘babies? no way!’

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What? You want to hear about meee!?!?

If you want to read along from the start, go to the links below. I did them in order from oldest to newest. Please do read a few: it was a lotta damn work. The first two links talk about why I love her, how I felt about my best friend’s decision to have a baby, and some things that were hard to write, especially about her miscarriage. The rest are my somewhat weekly pregnancy updates. With those, I tried to be both funny and informative, because I know sweet fuck all about this sort of thing, but I like funny and science.

Back story: go here, then here, and the updates: one, two (sweet pea), three (blueberry), four (raspberry), five (olive), six (prune), seven (lime) (the next post freaked her out, it was a bit of fun inspired by the drawing in seven: HAHAHAHAHHA), and eight (pick a fruit, any fruit). Nine (avocado) (I still get weekly searches for this photo. Y’all are weird). Ten (mango). Now we know! Eleven (melon/banana). Twelve (pomegranate), thirteen (eggplant), fourteen (rutabaga), fifteen (jicama), sixteen (melon, for sure this time!), seventeen (pumpkin), eighteen (WATERMELON!!!), twenty (a bigger damn watermelon!)

Then my massive freak out when she was in labour…

I love that gal to bits!

Sheeeeit, I’m almost too tired after all that to write anything new. Well, I did spend a lot of time writing all those posts…but not nearly as long as making all those links, so I need to ‘woman up’ and continue! (Don’t you just hate the term ‘man up’? As if one gender has a monopoly on getting shit done?)

So! Everyone is healthy and happy and growing and learning (Socks is about to embark on reverse-growing, however, as she’s tired of the leftover baby-bellah). There was a pretty bad health scare at first, involving way too much time spent in the natal intensive care unit, but it was a problem entirely able to be solved, and Button is no worse for the experience. Socks won’t forget it anytime soon, but she’s doing great at not being over-protective.

Button is not called Button any more, however. ‘Monkey’ is a common endearment that I hear. Along with ‘Little Squirrel’! But her real name, which I’ve been given permission to share, is one we talked about for months. Let me introduce, at the age of almost five months, Saige! Isn’t that just beautiful?

Saige sleeps well, eats well (they are just beginning to experiment with solid food – apparently the new idea of ‘flavour’ shocks her quite a bit still). She’s very active and wants nothing more than to walk, the sooner the better. Socks has been telling me for months that her daughter seems clearly frustrated that she can’t make her limbs do what she intends them to do, and she is fascinated to see Saige’s progress.

Saige has already given her first neck-hug combined with a sloppy kiss, and this was verified by Bear who just happened to be there at the time. ‘ Did she just…?’ ‘yeee-eee-sss…’ Mommy=melting, of course.

My darling niece (by love rather than by blood) seems very, very interested in technology, too:

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And I’m dead impressed how a child under six months can attend to an iPad so well. As an aside, my sister’s daughter can use an iPhone quite well and she’s just a few months over two years old. Interesting! Why is it so easy for someone so young, even really, really, young – to grasp but older folks have difficulties? Is the software so very user-friendly and intuitive that we older folk over-think it and cause our own problems?

Ah, that’s another thought for another day. Here’s Saige trying to nom Socks’s first baby, Beanie, instead.

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