Wow, I think my hits today are my lowest ever, and my day is close to being over. I HATE that I can’t be on here much any more! I’ve barely played with Brushes in the last two weeks, too. Aargh!
I want to bitch randomly. But I’ll save that for when I have more time-ha…
Instead, here’s an adorable cat photo. Hoping it brings my views up for the day, otherwise I’m just going to be depressed a bit.
I got to try three new ales this week! I had to share with IDJ, but we didn’t mind as we like to try new booze but can’t afford a load of bottles.
First one was a Christmas ale bought in Lidl: Shepherd Neame Tin’s Ale. I love Christmas ale, but this one, I’m afraid, falls well short of the mark. It didn’t have any spiciness, no hint of cinnamon, nutmeg, or even pine tree. I didn’t like it at all, unfortunately. Perhaps if I didn’t already have my palate set for a real Christmas ale, i would have at least liked it as a normal ale. As it was, nope. One sip was enough for me not to want more. Very low 4% alcohol, too.
Next up was Morland Hen’s Tooth ale. iDJ didn’t like this one at all, and calls it ‘incredibly average.’ It was, but I didn’t mind. I’d drink it over Budweiser, Heineken or Carlsberg if offered it at a party. It did have a bitter after taste that came in pretty ‘after’ a swallow. Alcohol content 6.5%.
Greene King Strong Suffolk Vintage ale was the best of the three, for both of us. At 6% it has a bigger flavour than the Hen’s Tooth, and a really nice burnt caramel taste – which is a flavour that is easy to do wrong. We don’t care for warm beer, and ale isn’t meant to be ice cold… and even we would admit it was better after warming up a little.
iDJ and I perform what I think of as tag-team cooking. For one meal, I have my cooking tasks and he has his. For example, I cut up the peppers but he cuts up the mushrooms. These rules are not set in stone but rather the way we’ve worked out how to share cooking duties.
When we roast a chicken he gets his hands dirty and I do the spices. He picks off any feathers, and rubs oil over the whole bird. I do the spices on one side, he waits, then he flips the bird and oils the other side. Then he can wash up. Saves us both having to get raw chicken yuck on our hands and/or saves him from having to wash his hands several times. Pretty efficient, we think!
Tonight he got a little ahead of me and took out the spice jars in advance. I sprinkle on salt, pepper, garlic, oregano, basil and thyme. Sometimes not all of the green ones, but he had them out so I used them all.
Then I noticed he had both types of thyme on the counter. One is chopped, one is ground to a fine powder. So I told him, for his future reference, that I only use one thyme at a time.
Yes, we are that nerdy.
I’d like to wish all of my female readers a very happy Nollaig na mBam – which translates into English as ‘Women’s Christmas.’ In Ireland, this is the day when the women folk would take down the decorations and after that, they weren’t meant to do a lick of work around the house for the rest of the day. In particular, no cooking! It is the day for the women who have done all the work of preparing and cooking for the holidays to relax and have a sherry or even a glass of the porter.
I just might take the idea on board this year. My tree is divested of tinsel and ornaments already, but only because it dropped needles like some ladies of poor morals drop their undergarments:
Is that not the most pathetic looking tree ever? We were warned that this would happen. We had a very warm November so our native trees didn’t ‘set’ their needles for the winter as they normally would. But daaaaamn, this is horrible. I usually take a few weeks to cut up and burn our tree for firewood, and I’m having trouble figuring out how to do so without making a mess day after day after day. As iDJ said, we should have decorated that ginormous Umbrella plant instead.
So that’s one reason why I might celebrate women’s Christmas. Another is that I should, by all Irish reasoning, celebrate my first week of working by going out to the pub.
Another is that my Canadian friend is back in town after being away (close, but not close enough to drink & walk home) over the holidays. We should go have a girly drink together, no boys allowed.
The only thing holding me back is (besides being broke) that I have a cold… I’m pretty damn tired. But I sorta feel like a girly night out…
Gak, ‘girly’ is such a misnomer when it is women like us! But I don’t mind for some reason when it is me saying it.
A double-Socks (a pair of Socks?) post today!
This one is short, and as sweet as the onion in question is supposed to be. I hate the things, so I can’t comment on that – she just said a ‘sweet onion’ because they are larger than most. I chose Vidalia as I know how very much my onion-loving family appreciated them when they were in season. I know they are large, and not as smelly as most onions, and are apparently really really nice raw, if you like raw onions. Vidalias are grown exclusively in the state of Georgia, USA, and in only seven counties there. They have protected status there, and if the US had laws like Europe does, they would enjoy the same protected geographical status as Champagne, Gorgonzola or Parma ham. The Georgians have every right to be proud of their onion!
Even if I dislike them intensely, I feel a bit of loyalty to the bulb and would rather that Button was a Vidalia than any other allium. Button is already 5.1 inches and 5.9 ounces (13 cm & 167 gm) at seventeen weeks. I think at this point, I’m a little – ok, more than a little – amazed at how fast a whole human can be grown. We are remarkable creatures to be able to make whole new people inside of us! I’d rather reproduce by mitosis myself, but still, it is rather amazing.
And even more amazing that my best friend chose to do this, and is loving every minute so far.
Right, so…I’m a bit behind. Today is Oirish Tirsday and I haven’t written an update from last Thursday yet! I also have to go to work in a bit and don’t have a lot of time to write.
So, instead of including the huge intro I have been including, just check out last week’s Socks update and it has all the links to previous posts, otay?
Actually there isn’t much to update about: everything is fine and normal and growing like crazy. We both wonder in what universe there are avocados bigger than navel oranges, but who are we to argue with pregnancy books?
I did try to find ‘Button’ in different languages last week. Bouton (French) is the nicest version, but I also like Tecla (Portugese) and Tasto (Italian). At least according to Babelfish, anyhow. I was probably a bit drunk and was trying to translate the word zipper instead.
Bear has also gotten into the spirit of names. He’s been randomly throwing out ideas here and there. Socks can’t really focus on a name until she knows the gender of Button, though – and I agree. I can’t name a pet until I meet it, how can you name a baby when you don’t even know boy or girl? Of course billions of people have done so, but hey, she has the technology and she intends to use it.
Button is moving around a bit more now. No ‘big’ movements, but Socks can tell there’s something different going on inside her. She said someone told her the early movements would feel like popcorn popping. She thought that was sort of strange…but now agrees that is the best analogy.
At this point Button can also hear Socks’ voice, pretty cool, eh? Even cooler is that from here on, babies hear and remember their mother’s accent, and actually even cry in that accent when born. I heard about this on television, and the best article about it I found (quickly) on the net is this one. I find this pretty amazing, myself.
Time to get ready for work, yuck… But I have one last Bear story. Apparently he has such a phobia of ‘outie’ belly-buttons that if Socks’ navel pops out when she is further along, she might have to hide it with a Band-Aid.
AAAAA! The horror! Run away, run away! 😀
The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Over at the Frankenstein Place (There’s a Light)
Well, there goes any theory about my earworms relating to what I’m thinking or worried about. Can’t correlate this to anything at all. First day of new job today!
Cat Stevens, The Wind.
I think this was in a movie I watched recently. Or it was another one off the same Greatest Hits CD of his I own. In any case, this is the one my brain played for me while I did dishes waiting for the coffee to brew this morning.
My sister and I started to like Cat because his music was featured in one of our favourite movies ever, Harold and Maude. If you’ve never seen it, change that as soon as possible!
We found a New Year’s hat for Neko, to make up for her not having a Santa hat…
She put up with it quite well. Party on, Neeks!
The short story: Socks is the nickname of my best friend, and she is having her first baby. Since I can’t be there with her, I’m chronicling her journey on my blog.
Long story: go here, then here, and the rest are my (sometimes) weekly updates: one, two, three, four, five, six, and seven. That will catch you up to now!
This week we have pictures to prove the belly growth again! Socks thoughtfully provided me with her current ‘bump’ photo, this time headless as I freaked her out entirely by making her head a lime last time. Oops! Just so you know, m’dear, I can chop your head off on my iPad, too. No need to do it yourself!
She also included the last pic, so we can see how big Button has gotten.
I doubt she’ll be fitting into that shirt for much longer! Unless its reeeelllly stretchy! She’s outgrown all of her jeans already. She’s not like me and got rid of all her ‘fat pants.’ I don’t care enough to keep up with my diet usually – although I certainly will once the holidays are over, I feel like a walrus at the moment – so I save my fat pants for my fat months. Anyhoo, she’s not a hoarder or a cheapskate like me so had to go buy new jeans. Or just wear sweats around the house. Thbbbt. In any case she’s only gained three pounds (1.36kilos).
The biggest news this week is that she’s finally announced to the world about Button! I don’t have to keep the secret any longer, yay! Of course I told people in Ireland, because they met her once, and I had to tell someone! But I don’t have to be so circumspect on FB any longer. I’m sure I’ll keep the habit out of, well, habit, for a while. She sent out ultrasound pics with her Christmas cards (not to everyone, of course – didn’t she say she sends 80 cards?). I’m dying to hear some of the surprised reactions from people who have just found out!
One who was not surprised is her mother. Because she’s been waiting…
I learned that MommaSocks bought, in 1989, six 16×20 inch (approx 41x51cm) laminated Beatrix Potter posters. Socks was 12 and too old for Ms. Potter. So who were they for, and why does Momma still have them stored flat after 22 years and four house moves? Why, for her future grandbabies, of course! OMG. I think I would have sewn myself shut if someone was plotting out the future tenants of my uterus when I wasn’t even a teen yet! Socks sure has a lot of patience.
Her doc freaked her out a bit last week though, just by being super-hyper and zooming around the room. This doc didn’t want to believe the last doc’s opinion that Button is a week further along, and didn’t even have the reports to hand (probably left them on the counter at Starbucks when she picked up that triple expresso). Quote of the week from Socks: ‘Whatever, let them duke it out.’
Socks also had a good conversation with the doc about ‘birthing options.’ Now, some might think this is a bit early; but she’s a planner, and as she said she doesn’t know anyone locally with babies or who is pregnant, so she needs to know what her options are and where to find help if she needs it – like finding a doula. No, I didn’t know what that was, either. I kinda guessed, though. There is a nice, private-room birthing centre right at her doctor’s office, and she likes all of them there, and they very seriously told her that they are not a ’boutique’ office that does a Caesarian section just because mommy doesn’t want stretchmarks or a loose coochie. It is really good to know that a C-section is a last resort for Socks and the docs. Quote of the week from the doc: ‘But we will if we have to, because you can’t stay pregnant forever.’
The last bit we both found interesting is that sometimes a hospital will take the baby to the nursery right away. And when they do, they feed it… either formula or water. Weird. So Socks is making a request in advance to ensure Button stays with her so the breast feeding is the first meal of the day.
Which will be fun, because she’s allowed an enormous audience in the room, should she so desire – hubby plus four others! Since we doubt Bear will be able to stay vertical in the delivery room, maybe there’s a place for me…
heretherebespiders 