But how can we be sure if we don't try?!
You've seen Profit, right?
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
But how can we be sure if we don't try?!
You've seen Profit, right?
Wishing all the best for your sister-in-law, askye.
I skipped and skimmed and I saw that Seska has new house?
Had our offer accepted yesterday! We can't start on home inspections until after The Girl comes back from Houston (where she's going next week for her father's surgery), but then we'll start figuring out why the extension in the attic is illegal and how we can make it legal. And then we'll get started on contracts and building plans. Eee!
Sorry to hear about your jaw/dentist stuff, Erin. I have TMJ and it's no fun. Hope Dan's finger's better soon, too! Also ~ma for doggy stuff.
I'm making brownies for Windsparrow.
You are lovely. (Were they good, Andi?)
smonster, I'm loving your stories of Frankie. Sounds like you're both having fun.
The Girl keeps telling me how warm it is in Houston. Good for her. It's also quite nice weather here, in the British sense.
Talking of Britain, we are obsessed with the election at the moment. The third party, which I've supported for thirteen years, is finally at a point where it might win enough seats for a hung parliament. There is great hubbub and excitement. I might see if I can help my local candidate with campaigning in the final week pre-election.
I skipped most part of dog part for obvious reasons (I still miss him, so much), but just wanted to give my ~mas to all of you with hectic days and families.
In more cheerful news, I am having a tiny dinner party tomorrow! Just us and another couple, who haven't met Dan yet!
I am serving a bucket of frozen margaritas.
A spring chicken, roasted, with halved onions with a bit of the middle scooped out, and a slice of butter tucked in with minced garlic. Onions will be studded with cloves.
The inside of Mr. Chicken will be rubbed with lemon, and then brushed lightly with melted butter; after which the inside will be rubbed with kosher salt and black pepper, and the cavity stuffed with the onion halves and the lemon sections, and some fresh thyme and rosmary. Pats of butter will be slid under the skin, and butter melted with sage with be brushed over the whole chic, and then a light brushing of a honey/Gran Marnier glaze, before a light dusting of pepper and Kosher salt.
Served with fingerling potatoes roasted with olive oil and rosemary; fresh asparagus, with melted drawn butter with a touch of lemon, and Angel food cake and macerated strawberries with a touch of sherry for dessert, with real whipped cream with a hint of cinnamon.
YUM!
That blanket training thing seems excessive. If you just place the blanket in a crate to begin with, training becomes superfluous.
Meanwhile, conversation tonight:
Wallybee: "I'm going to the video rental store, I want to pick up Season 1 of Sex and the City."
Me: "I'll come with you, I could do with getting out of the house."
Wallybee: "Are you sure? I know you need to study."
Me: "Sure, I can afford a bit of time. ...Wait, that's not going to work. Someone needs to stay here with Ryan."
Yes, we took Wallybee's parents to the airport this morning. It's now just the three of us. We've promised to send them many photos of Ryan. A sad day, saying goodbye to them. Ryan's been so fortunate his first year, and we've been very fortunate too. I would like to sing the praises of the extended family concept. I'd like to, but especially after my first marriage, I remain mindful of just how much trouble the wrong in-laws can cause. So I'd rather sing the praises of my extended family; Wallybee's parents deserve every credit for making this work as well as it does. We're forever grateful to them. (I should note too, they're already planning to come back later on in the year.)
This caps off a hectic week. I started my new job on Friday last week. My first paid employment in (just) over a year. There are a lot of promising signs, the work is interesting and I feel I can make a decent contribution. Plus, they seem keen to ramp up my work commitments. The job's two days a week right now, and it looks like they want to push it higher just as soon as I can offer more time out of my studies. (I may cut back to one unit per semester. I'm enjoying the study, but there's a compelling logic to the whole income notion.) Morale seems pretty good too. Only thing that worries me, the place gives off something of a macho culture vibe. Not so thrilled about that.
Ryan had his first birthday party last weekend. (He doesn't turn one for almost another week, but we wanted his grandparents there of course.) I think he had fun, with lots of people to give him attention, and his little cousin was there too. Plus, he pulled some decent swag, including a play tent (training crate!). His reaction to finding himself in the tent was to burst into tears. More training needed. My brother gave him a battery-operated tortoise that has some flashing lights and music, and trundles off whe you hit the top button. That got tears as well. He's gradually getting used to it though.
With Wallybee's parents heading back, Ryan is soon to experience the joys of daycare. We have a couple of options nearby. Wallybee and her mother took him in for a trial run on Friday. It's looking good - there were tears initially, but he settled in fairly quickly, and happily played with the other children while his mother snuck out to watch from the hall. I think he'll do well.
Safe travels, In-Laws of bt!
(Were they good, Andi?)
Very tasty. Texture wasn't ideal, so anyone thinking of emulating his modifications might want to reconsider. I think vanilla instead of water does something... maybe evaporates too quickly. And I think solid chocolate over cocoa powder might work out better. Still, very yummy with a glass of milk.
Good luck entering the next stage of Ryanness, minus grandparents, bt and wife.
There's a beautiful day outside, and I need to read a hell lot of anthropology papers, and do so NOW. Aside of the minor lack of wanting to do so, the thing that really prevents me from sitting with my lovely bunch of papers in the sun, is the horrid noisy neighbors of mine, which can't stop shouting for the last 4-5 hours. That's how they communicate, and they seem to host their entire tribe today.
Oh my.
Bitches, did we know about Boobquake, this Monday? (you'll have to google it to believe me).
Also? Sephora makes Clinque's black honey in a not-sticky gloss that is moisturizing.
Sephora brand? What's it called?
No one made it to the vet this morning. Long story. Dalmatian still not eating. I think I need a nap.
Erin, TMJ is the devil. Mine's been hurting all week. Hope Dan recovers quickly from his debilitating finger injury! Good luck with the dog and the ex, yikes.
askye, ~ma for your SIL.
Frankie, how about that smonster, huh? You lucked out, dude.
Went out to dinner with the fam last night, to meet oldest niece K.'s latest boyfriend. The subject of Boobquake came up, and we (all women except for Boyfriend) started musing on whether it would be necessary for us to jump up and down to cause the quake, or if merely showing cleavage would be enough. Boyfriend was silent on the matter. In retrospect, maybe we shouldn't be talking about our boobs when new menfolk are listening. My family may be immodest enough to cause some tremors all on our own. But really, if he's gonna be part of the family, he needs to know what he's getting into, as soon as possible, right? It wouldn't be fair to let him think we were normal.