Showing posts with label L' V et romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label L' V et romance. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 09, 2020

When you can't find them for looking...

Lost.

My husband has lost a pair of glasses of late.

I often wonder what its like, being able to lose a pair of glasses.

As one whose vision is not only enhanced but made sense of with the occultation of some mighty weird lenses, this blithe disregard of the whereabouts of such an essential piece of equipment is - well, as fuzzy a concept as my eyesight should that misfortune ever come to me.

He thinks it might have happened on the weekend.  No, the one before - it was after that Friday anyway.

Just before "this bloddy thing" hit back in March, my deteriorating ability to read combined with separate pairs of not-quite ideal glasses was upgraded - at a premium - to one pair of multi-faceted light-sensitivity-tinted you-beaut glasses.

My eyesight does not come into that category that fits neatly into any sort of specials that Optometrists and health funds delight in - used to delight in.  It is the sort that requires ADDITIONAL cost to ensure that it doesn't end up so heavy it will fall off your face.

Apparently.

I had a run in with the poor girl who was my first attempt at making a transaction.

I have a type at Optometrist Dispensers.  Well, I would like to have a type.  The type I would like is one that would tell me exactly which one would suit me at the most inexpensive price and this is how the ordering process should occur - as opposed to the type that is actually attracted to me - the boss you about, take you for a fool, employ industry slang and jargon to bamboozle and then jump you with the bill.

I am sure that the poor young thing was just as jangled as I given the circumstances of the almost hushed atmosphere of mid-March pre-covid.

(Ah, remember then?  Hand sanitizers and food shortages and gob-smacked at Italy, France, the UK and Spain,)

She made one move - said one thing, the wrong thing, the wrong way and I was a jangling ball of anxiety about the impending requirement of being grown up enough to navigate Health Funds, Diarising, Budgeting, Fashion and Fast Lunch-Breaks.  Like a young horse I bolted and cowarded out with an "Can I take a Quote Away and Think About It?".

I have parked in a different spot at the shopping centre since then.  I don't like to walk past in case she might pounce.

He thinks that he may have left them in a shop.  Don't know which shop or why.  On a shelf somewhere.  Imagine being able to navigate life without them.

But I don't want the operation.  I have no problem with other people doing what they like with their eyes, but there are moments when I don't mind being unfocused.

That and I don't want someone sticking a knife into my eye.

Every time I see a pair of his glasses lying around the house, I tell him.  I say "oh, honey, I saw a pair of your glasses on the bench/in the bathroom/in Paris' room/downstairs" and he says "which ones?"

He's so funny.  As if I could tell them apart.  They all look like men's glasses to me.  His eyesight is such that Optometrists not only offer him deals, they GIVE HIM glasses with no gap! 

Me, the pair before the last lot, I got hoodwinked by a modern edgy Optical Dispenser who managed to give me a quote for nearly a grand for two pairs because I had been lulled by the possibility of sunglasses (imagine, sunglasses - I have NEVER had a pair of sunglasses that I could see clearly through without contacts, and they are a pain in the butt - well the eyeball, but whatever) before she got to the "oh, we don't do that deal for your prescription, you need to pay an ADDITIONAL cost to ensure that it doesn't end up so heavy it will fall off your face."  Like a very grey mare I shied and cowarded out with an "Can I take it Away and Think About It?".

"Oh, thats the pair that I keep for the garden" he tells me when I find yet another pair in another spot.  Or maybe they are the same pair that he just keeps rehiding on me to send me crazy.

The pair before that, the older, respectable matronly Optical Dispenser not only talked me down from the fact that the glasses were giving me instant migraines whenever I wore them, she made me endure another week of hell because she thought it was because I wasn't wearing them enough and I should just battle through before calling in the learned one.

The next week she allowed me into the inner sanctum.  "Oh" the Optometrist said - giggle - "we've put the prism in upside-down.  These would have been of no help whatsoever - leave them with me for a few days." as he ushered me out the door.

But she was in wait for my leaving, because she bamboozled me with being grown up and navigate Health Funds, Diarising, Budgeting, Fashion and a Lunch-Break to be terminated with a return to the world's worst workplace.

She tricked me by offering the possibility of sunglasses and had led me well down the path and turned with the  "oh, we don't do that deal for your prescription, you need to pay an ADDITIONAL cost to ensure that it doesn't end up so heavy it will fall off your face."  Like a startled foal I started and got the guts to "Cancel what the Witch Suggested" (aided by the dire state of our finances a the time - my embarrassment has made me pay for far more stupid things in the past).

"No," he said, when I held aloft a pair found secreted on a cluttered horizontal space "those ones only have one eye."

I wonder if there are many pairs of one-eyed glasses hidden around the world in the houses of those who only require a half-view?

Anyhoo...  do you get Optometrist Anxiety too?

I always feel like I am going to fail the test that I have been called in to sit for.

They ask such dumb questions.

Thursday, February 04, 2016

Different Kinds of Fairy Tales and Philosophy

Against all good advice – or, apparently, judgement – I have a history with – well, with texture and drama at certain points – and I won't go into that too much in depth except to say I am unable to honestly tick the box foretold in the fairy-tales, the childhood sweetheart.

I know, brazen, wanton hussy that I am, admitting that OUT LOUD, IN PUBLIC.

But to be frank, once you are past the juncture where you can feasibly attain such an object in your life, the requirement to DREAM about it as an ideal is actually futile…

In fact, to continue to search for the possibility is viewed by polite society to be downright immoral and illegal!



And yet – and yet we keep on pushing the notion, the Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet – a reality that, frankly, very few of us end up cashing our chips in on.

Not that I have anything against those of you who found contentment and delight in the first swain to have troubled your doorstep when said doorstep was still shared with your parents.

However, there are many other possible pathways to take in this silly little world we inhabit for however brief a moment in time, and to disallow other possible pathways as plausible in the dreamscape of childhood is narrow, for there is joy to be found in these other avenues also…


The moment of falling in love – deeply, irrevocably in love – with a background of other spectacular moments of falling into deep, irrevocable love in the past isn’t necessarily a lesser thing to that moment of falling in love for the very first time. 

It is a DIFFERENT thing, for sure.

But you see, one is impossible with the other - but not the other way around...



That moment of feeling your heart break in new ways over days or weeks or months of mourning for what was not possible in such a relationship.

That moment of realising that, although your heart breaks in new ways, it is healing and embracing what life has to offer.

That moment of understanding that you can be alone in this world and be okay.

That moment of realising you actually are enjoying complete self-reliance in whatever sphere of your life.

That moment of discovering answered needs for a myriad of things in life from a myriad of people in life that proves being part of a community can be buoyant and uplifting.

(Perhaps not that moment of fear of unwanted attention and ill-conceived borders, but hey, they’re not a given.)

Another – and another – and another moment of falling in love…



Although – although as a married woman now, the most staid (and indeed stayed) I have ever been in my life – there are moments in such a life where you do discover other, new moments of falling in love in such a scenario that I would never have imagined in other phases.

The “oh I never noticed” moments, the "I never noticed that" moments, the “oh that is why” moments, the “ohhhh, THAT is why” moments, the “oh? That’s why?” moments and the “I dunno why” moments.



And I would imagine in the amount of growing and changing that takes place between then and now, there would also be renewed falling in loves for such people who number the childhood sweetheart component of the audience.

You would certainly hope so, at least, because they sure as dodo eggs are a declining market - there is a pretty finite market to begin with, and an attrition rate.  Anything other would be detrimental to their whole survival – we need them around to study!!

Oh - and the fairy tale game would well and truly be up!

Friday, October 23, 2015

Lipon

Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, a young(er) mother lived in a share house with her daughter and two other ladies.

One was a beautiful Asian princess and one was a glorious Australian poet - but this story is not about them...

Once upon a time I sat on the back deck after the child's book time and song time and story time and sleep time to muse - but this story is not about her either...

Once upon a time, overlooking the glistening lights of  the 'Gabba and hearing crowds go home from yet another Lions victory *, I sent a query out to the universe.


The universe responded.  Yay universe.

Of late, Mrs Woog has come to bemoan the world of the online date, jaded as it is by charletan pollution and unsolicited daguerrotypes of appendages - and it brought to mind a little story from the beginning of the courtship of V and I.

Very early on in our long-distance communication, our conversations jumped from the computer screen to telephone screen.  We had interacted vocally, but at an exhorbitant fee **



I have told you that this was a long time ago - a long, long time ago, in fact.  So long ago, that when you texted, you had to not just type each letter individually  but r-e-a-l-l-y type each letter.  And not just no-predictor-text level of slowness, but a truly challenging task ***.

For example, to type in the world "understandably", you had to press "88663(wait a second for the phone to recognise that as "d")33777(pause)7777826632(pause)22555333" - and if you wanted to type "distraction", it was "3444777787772(pause)222844666(pause)66" - and as texts were CHARGED and limited in numbers of characters, you learned to abbreviate and spelling errors existed.

So, given it is the middle of Winter and given that there are no floor coverings where I was living (but moving from, to Paradise) and given that V was in warmer climes , our discussions turned to footwear and their relative merits.

Now, I am not renowned for my shoe-surety...  but it turned out to be V's toe in the door, his great step forward, emerging from the pond of hopeful suitors to contemplation of worth.

He lyrically described to me his slippers (there was one point in time when I could have quoted exactly the phrasing used) and its merits.  There was possibly an entendre or two thrown into the 160 character mix.  And then he told me The Pet Name.  He refered to his "lipon".



I nearly choked on my wine.   Who was this wierdo?
Then, he asked if I wanted to see a photo of "it".

I panicked and raced downstairs to where my poet-companion resided.  What the actual?

His fate was to be decided by his next missive.

A photo of a great big hairy (tartan) slipper! **** *****

It turned out, he had meant to type "slip-on" - and just like that, the courtship was back on track...



And the rest, as they say, is history.



* yes, once upon a time the Lions won many games - even in a row.

** Doesn't that date a story - telephone calls used to be expensive and not part of a BUNDLE, children

***yet still legal to undertake while operating a motor vehicle, folks - the veritable dark ages

*** Unfortunately photographic proof is impossible as the phone has long since passed this mortal coil and it was so long ago, children, that CLOUDS did not exist - and

**** We have never since seen such a perfect pair of backless tartan hairy slipper suitable for a size 12 bloke.

So - what was your most memorable courtship gift - and was it solicited...

Monday, September 15, 2014

A funny thing happened on the way to the bath...

I may have mentioned that we are in need of a bathroom renovation.

I have placed V in charge of the project - because (a) I am busy, and (b) I am crap at decision-making.

V would actually like me to assist him in making decisions on his project, though, and he dragged me to the table and tied me in place coerced me into assisting him on the weekend.

Unfortunately it didn't really go as planned, because...  well, lets just say, shiny things!!!

This was one of the first offerings I saw.

Now, we don't NEED one of these - I am pretty sure our house would IMPLODE if we got one, but what can I say but "Wow!!!"

You can get them with blue-tooth audio - man, you could have a disco in there!




 Now, this is a little more low key than the above.

The wierdest thing was that there were 220 people in the world watching at that moment. 

Can you imagine?  

220 people in the world who cared about this so much that they were watching, waiting for the moment that they could snipe the opposition and get this little beauty right at the finish line...

 Doesn't this say something?


Not exactly sure what it is, but it is speaking in languages that surpass several senses.






Watch out V!!!  grrrl.









 I aim to use the phrase "right side skirt" in as many conversations as possible in the next week.

I am wondering if there are only 10% left sided skirts in bathroom world...

  This holds a certain allure - and possibly a small child.
This is advertised as "used"
I want to know - did they walk out okay?

 I really think that they should feature the green flower with tears spouting from it more prominently in this ad...

That and the drink holder...

 On what planet?

It was about that point that V realised that the great "get Jeanie to assist with decision-making in this project" experiment was over, and nobody really won.

Nobody except the bathroom, perhaps.

So - what side-trips have you been enticed on this week?

Saturday, June 28, 2014

a very pertinent Friday night question...

tonight, V and I did what some parents do when their children have gone to bed.

Tonight, we discussed meteorology; appreciated the merits of bathing between the kitchen timer beeps, we kneaded and rocked; we heard thumps in the night; we contemplated finances and pondered the necessity of inviting an after-hours plumber around.



Our taste in Friday nights runs to fish and chips and salad with boiled egg with the next-door neighbour, Queen Jeanie (no relation).

...

On some Friday nights, I thaw amazing fish from the bounty provided to me from a chance job with a keen fisherman, create the most excellent batter (and so freaking simple you wouldn't believe it) and dunk bits in and then to the oil-filled wok.  A whole array of anything else that can be batter covered and deep fried also get the dunk and fry treatment, due to the quantity of batter that is always remaining (and the darned Scot in me can't stand the waste of unused batter (while the vast Australian that surrounds me obviously can't stand the waste of used batter)), accompanied by chips from the sushi joint at the Shopping Centre and Queen Jeanie (no relation)'s version of salad.
Several months ago, Queen Jeanie (no relation)'s version of salad, had quartered boiled eggs as part of the salad-construct presented and it BLEW PARIS'S MIND!!!


We often eat salad, but now I have a very avid salad-assistant at the beginning of salad creation - the boiling of eggs - and the end of salad creation - the peeling of eggs (and sneaky attempt at palming some egg for a pre-dinner snack) - but surprisingly not the boring middle bit of salad creation - the actual salad.

...

On the rare Friday night, we go to a newly found and absolutely wonderful Kountdown Kafe.  For an exceptionally reasonable exchange of money, they will provide you with delicious, filling meals.

I will let you in on a secret.  They even know how to cook pretty awesome chips - and will serve them with every meal.


But not only is there food, there are the people who bring you Kountdown Kafe.  A most beautiful woman who seems to exude joy as she hostesses the room.  And a tall intense man in the kitchen, emerging to visit the pop-up sidewalk salon in the front of the shop, where philosophy, history and music is avidly discussed.

And as the ganache of the whole experience, there is live music with local musicians and always the chance you will be there when the newest material is being tested, the undiscovered will find their feet or the experienced will show you their true talents.


We do not visit often enough, for our enjoyment of life is tempered greatly by the potential grizzles (or tsunamis) of overtired Paris, the enforced disassociation of the teenage 'Salina (and her companion of choice - or ours at the next table (logistics)), V's knees and occasional budget-anxiety.

...

And most other Friday nights are Salad de Paradis avec l'œufs (that was thrown in to keep my Internationally Renowned Food Blogger status bobbing above the "alleged" line) with Fish and Chips bought at the Seafront Fisho by Queen Jeanie (no relation) over at hers.



Party animals, eh.  So after an exhausted Paris (and seven stuffed toys) is said good-night to, and an aloof adolescent 'Salina gives final orders - "turn off my fan, check the radio, don't disturb before necessary, don't talk about me or post my image on the internet", V and I look expectantly at each other, and collapse at opposite ends of the house to decompress.



My chosen mode of decompression on this Friday night was baking.  You can dovetail baking nicely with bathroom requirements, internet surfing, background football, cups of coffee and the occasional whispered innuendo.  Pretty wild, I know.

Do you know how tempting it is right now to throw in the term "Ironic"?  Just so I could get all the true defenders of the meaning of the word ironic to rattle their pitchforks in my direction.

...

Yeah.   But I used to go to nightclubs.  Clubbing.  By choice.  Every.  Friday.  Night.

True story.  It would start with drinks at friends or in town and sort of morph into all night dancing, drinking and being delirious with fun.

And youth.

...

Sigh - but no, bread baking.

In the beginning, it is quite simple.  You measure, you activate, you blood-warmth test and you wait.

Then you mix and you knead and you knead and you knead and you are on guard regarding the amount of flour covering the (sadly inadequate) counters in relation to the moisture in the dough and you can really start to meditate on the world and your place and your circles and the referees background calls and commentators reaction and then the urgency of the floured counter/dough moistness ratio kicks in.

Once the "oh-crap-I-forgot-to-oil-a" bowl is located and oiled, and the dough is covered by a fresh tea-towel and - poof - the troubles of your day disappear.



The timer is set and it is time to MAKE.  A.  DECISION.  Together, as a couple, the most important discussion a couple can have takes place.

Who is going to have first bath.

It is Winter.  There are factors to consider.

...

V got the long straw.

I got to surf and await the next step in the bread making.  And decompress.

It has been a week.  Aren't they all?



The timer goes off and this beastie goes on.

Isn't she beautiful?


Hello sweetie.

Anyway, ahem.  The downside of such an amazing massive oven is the fact that it takes longer to warm up all that space.

But I can cook five loaves (perhaps even six) at the same time.  Yeah, baby.   Because it is the Food Swap tomorrow and because I am the bread lady.  And we need bread.  And I am decompressing from the day, from the week, from the fish and chips...

And suddenly it is ON.  Baking paper for the trays, oil the pan, knead the dough.  Get a knife - guess complex fractions and divide the mass into approximations.  Knead each loaf.  Cut the loaves for rising.  Attempt to reshape the loaves.  Realise I am not a food blogger.  I am so much such not a food blogger that I didn't photograph any of this!

The timer is set.



Bath-time.

...

I am currently reading a book.  It isn't a bad book.  Its quite a good book.  But there is just one problem - and that is that it is an African book.  And I love African books.  I hate that I just emcompassed the whole continent's literary output with a blanket "African book" - but here is the thing.  The writing is beautiful - evocative.  It builds a world that I have no true understanding of except through the words, and they are words that makes me feel I do have an intimate knowledge of people, culutre, politics and food of a faraway place.  But it is one of those books that - and I warn you now Mum, I am going to use a word that you don't like so scroll down the the next picture.













Yes, it is one of those books that at the opening, everything is fucked.

And then lots of really fucked things happen, getting increasing bleak.

And the ending is generally pretty fucked too.


But all with really beautiful, evocative writing.

It always puts me into a bit of a moral bind.

I know that if I keep reading, I will get carried away by the words but, being open to the beauty of that makes you vulnerable to the sheer dispair of the situation of (insert African nation currently being screwed over by multinational trade and aid politics).

And you wonder if you avoid being vulnerable to such dispair...  yeah, I am in about the middle of the book.

...

It was a very decompressing bath.



Thankfully, the timer went off.

Towards the end of bread baking, the whole timing intensity amps up.  And when you are not just baking ONE loaf of bread but indeed FIVE of TWO DIFFERENT SIZES, we are talking algebra-requiring calculations for the insertion, turning, swapping and finally inhaling of loaves.  Great for decompression.
So, between kitchen timers and all those verby words above, V and I were finally decompressing together.  Contemplating our next move.  I thought I would check the last turn of the bread before we decided.



As I walked towards the kitchen, and almighty BANG captured my attention.

It was definitely not the melodic beeping of the kitchen timer.

And that hissing sound was not the oven fan.

My mind did an inventory of all the things that could possibly stuff up.

"V" I quivered, as I flung open the back door and peered down towards the laundry.  The laundry was dark.  Darn, I hate it when good organisation means that the bogeyman has a better chance.

"V" I quivered, because although I am a feminist, I am one of the equal rights feminists thinking the bogeyman should get a choice.

There was a funny smell, but it wasn't burning.  There was a haze, but it wasn't smoke.  The hissing noise seemed to intesify.  The stairs were descended and the laundry declared clear.

"Phew" said V (well, not in those words, but they convey the meaning) "its only raining".

It wasn't just raining, it was BUCKETING down.  The hissing sound was accompanied by the roar of a million drops hitting the roof - and the buckets and the washing on the line and the lawn furniture.

When we went back inside, I had a brainwave.

I went to the front door.  I went on the front steps.

It wasn't raining at the front steps.

Back we went to the back stairs, and further investigations were undertaken.

A pipe had burst.

We had a fountain in the back yard.  Well, not really, because the pipe was directly under the upstairs floor - so it was more a water feature.

The smell and haze in the kitchen was mist.

...

The water mains must be approached with caution.

It is basically a rectangular bucket at the bottom of the slope of the front yard with a lid.

The lid is not very effective at keeping out dirt.  Or water.  Or ants.  So to turn off the water mains, one must first dig through a mudpit of biting insects.  Very Indiana Jones.  With our bare hands because in our haste, we had failed to bring along gardening equipment.

 Once cleared, the tap turned out to be one of those horrible impossible to turn designs.  The only edge that offers purchase does so on such an angle that there is NO SINGLE TOOL in V's kit that will turn that last quarter-turn required.  Luckily I am married to a very smart man, because he knows the secret men's business that involves combining tools.  Colour me duly impressed.

...

So the question remains - will this be fixed by duct tape, or will the universe require after-hours plumbers to deal with this sudden turn of Friday night events.





How is your Friday night going?

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Seven years ago today...

...a boy young man sent an e-kiss to a girl lady woman who had caught his attention with her weaving of words and she e-kissed back in response to his stories of smiling and supermarket trolleys...

Being, perhaps for the first time in that seven years upon the date of our anniversary in a position where we could do the whole celebrate - both in terms of child combinations and manana - and in need of an excuse to test said children upon the frontier of babysitting - we proceeded to try and organise ourselves in the general direction of a night out...

(Well, one child - 'Salina would be completely fine now for us to leave her to her devices - those devices being of the i- variety - and in truth, she may well be able to wrangle Paris, but we wanted to not put that responsibility on her shoulders and come home to any forms of sister-cide).

We had sounded out Ms B - a trainee from Paris's school/daycare - on the concept of undertaking such a task, and we were so well organised that by 3pm this afternoon, it was booked.

Unfortunately, our first choice for a foodie date, the newly opened Thai with good reviews, was also completely booked, so we had a babysitter but not a venue.

Still, with the sort of determination that creates a relationship out of a 400km each-way commute, we forged on.  We prepared Paris and 'Salina - Paris sang Ms B's praises ("she is quite nice") and Salina was extra cool as only can be pulled off when you are that age and that stage of evolution.

So - after feeding the girls and getting glammed up, Ms B arrived and we handed over total control to her - we hit the road, the night next 2 hours in front of us and nary a care.

Before driving too far, our minds and taste buds were salivating at the concept of exotic tastes and gorgeous delights, and our sensibilities were busy fist-pumping the no washing up concept.

After driving along the strip a little further, we agreed to settle on not having to travel too far and getting food.

And, upon reaching that resolve, we rounded a corner and discovered the answer to that particular moment's prayers - the Tavern.

We parked as two lovebirds with seven years under out belts do - as close as possible to the entrance and  far enough away from other cars as to not get uncalled for damage.

As I walked towards the entrance, I had one of those momentous decisions to make.  

You know the one, where you come to the kerb and think "hmmm, should I go the extra short step or just clear it in one?"

At that point, the house orchestra really should have struck up some ominous music or the a bit of a trill on the trumpet, because what came next was really a "wah wah WAAAAH" moment.

Yep - I chose wrong, and therefore V suddenly felt a tug and the few patrons braving the coffee-deck got to witness the not so gradual demise of Jeanie's dignity due to an extended step and a twisty foot.

I think I heard something as I fell - I am pretty sure that my foot swore, and I may have emitted a gasp.

After the major operation of moving my carcass to the edge of the driveway, we sat in the gutter and discussed our options.  It wasn't so painful that I needed an ambulance right then and there.  We were out, the kids were safe, we were hungry and there was an eating establishment not too far from where we sat.  As I was swept up by V arose  clampbered to my pins, I determined that I could walk on it without screaming in agony, so we went on with determination.

There were enough tables that I could nab an extra chair just for my foot, so I gently advised V of my need for this setup as soon as possible and took stock of the situation.

For the first 10 minutes I couldn't actually see properly - everything was sort of black and white and rather pixellated, which made checking out the blackboards specials an interesting task. 

V found a menu that I could actually hold and adjust for the vision issues, and I saw that I would need to move my tastespace from "exotic and dangerous" to "rich and comforting" - luckily it moved with an ease I have to give it credit for.


V went up to order and brought me back a red wine (a medicinal requirement) and I crash-tackled a busboy (busgirl? busperson?) to ask for a bag of ice.

We got a chance to survey our surrounds.  The crowd was made up of family parties, groups of old friends and several smatterings of first or nearly first dates.  There was a choice of the kitchen/servery,  trotting on tele, Keno, people or fish tank views - we actually found a table that offered all of that, so pretty chuffed.

The breads came out - and they were truly yum.

It is at this point where I apologise profusely for my woeful camera skills - you can't see how light and warm and fluffy the bread was, or how tender yet chewy the crust.  The orange disc was herb butter, the yellow/green garlic - and both were delicious (although if I had to chose one, the garlic was the one - luckily V agreed and we didn't have to contemplate this)

For my main, I chose Coq au Vin, and went the veges rather than the chips and salad option (the sign of a truly upmarket restaurant, I believe, is they inherently KNOW what sides go with your dish and impose their choice on you)

That gravy there? R-I-C-H and totally yummy.  The mushrooms were awesome, the chicken cooked just right, the corn so juicy - the only very slight downside was that the veges could have had a little less time on them, but in the grand scheme of things, exactly what this little duck required.

 V went the Rump Sophia - Steak and Prawns in a creamy mediterranean sauce - they had cooked the steak to his specifications beautifully (the sign of a truly smart tavern - bugger what the chef thinks, listen to the patron) and the portions were extremely generous.


One of the upsides of tavern vs fine dining, is you can do this sort of malarkey and no-one raises an eyebrow - so you CAN slather your pumpkin and gravy over your last bits of bread and explode your buds with the tasty goodness.

I was going to wax lyrical and do a full review of the food, but the appendage at the end of my leg just gave me a hurry up and blew all adjectives regarding taste out of the water.  Let me just distill it into HUGE RICH and YUMMY.

We would have given you shots of the desserts, but we were far too full to even think about the Cheesecakes or Mars Bar Cake or Puddings - we might think about them another night.

By then, our two hours were up and it was time to take the pumpkin home and find out how successful the babysitting experiment was.

And really, it depends on your measures.

In terms of Ms B being nice to Paris, it was a success.

In terms of 'Salina and Ms B reading ALL of the library books several times to Paris in 'Salina's bed as she missed Mummy and Daddy and didn't want to go to sleep, well, that would be a tick also.

In terms of the house being quiet and Paris being abed - it was a fail.

Still, we are going to try it again some time soon - perhaps practice will improve her ability to relax into the whole "compliant and go to sleep for other people child" that goes well with babysitting.  Apparently.

Happy anniversary, honey - seven years ago, my life was blessed.  :)

(and to top off the whole anniversary festivities, we are now contemplating a medical  opinion on the foot - because I am pretty sure the signals that it is sending me are in the "you may have done damage" part of the inter-body dictionary)

Friday, January 11, 2013

V Day Celebrations

Poor old V.

Paris woke him at 5.30 (not because it is his birthday but because she sneaks into our bed between 3 and 4 and then commences wriggling until one of us arises, at which point she smiles and advises that she is awake too).

It is a stinking hot day here today - relatively, of course.  The maximum is 33, which is about exactly what the temperature has probably been for the last week and will be for the next, but it is as humid as a sauna and has been since - well, since 6.30, which is when I slept in until (and tagged him on the whole "entertain Paris" role that is our main task at hand these days).



He got phone calls, but missed the one from 'Salina (got a message on MessageBank, but she didn't sing Happy Birthday, which is mandatory, so we will be following that up later).


We went to the beach - that in itself wasn't onerous at all - but while discussing our strategy (involving who was on "entertain Paris" duty, which is more about wrangling between the flags than actually dealing with whine while on the beach - a pleasant change) a wave caught him unawares just at the bit that causes the bottom bit of knee to wobble around against the top bit of knee, and when there is nothing in between those bits of knees this can cause something close to excrutiation!


Due to a upcoming opportunity, I have need to visit a particular cafe and so I proposed that for lunch, (rather than having the "toasted leftover wraps" that I do so well).

We all dressed up - well, Paris dressed up (in tutu and sparkly shirt) and I matched her (although my tutu was more of a maxi-skirt, but we were both, coincidentally, in pink and white - although as Paris did point out, I didn't have any silver stars), and V - well, he wore a shirt and boardies (which is his daily uniform) - and worked on a plan.

We first visited the library, and despite me having the forethought to reserve rather than contemplate the sifting through the DVDs to find the last series of Hamish Macbeth for our viewing pleasure, it hadn't yet been acted on so we still had to do the sift - more sand in the shoe than total devastation.

Then we hit the main drag to find the cafe - after one circuit to locate the cafe without luck in either parking or location (side note - why don't businesses put the street numbers on display?), we brought in technology to try and find it for us - and I am blaming shortcomings in the technology for the first block's walk with a three year old and a V with a gammy  knee on it fooling me (and definitely not on the whole "the map was upside down" suggestion that V may have made).  After asking the local constabulary (much more reliable than technology) we walked back to find that the cafe was tiny and choc a block with patrons.

We thought we might overcome that by getting a counter-ie at the revamped pub on the corner - to discover that they too were well patronised and nary a table to be had.  The fact that a large tableful of people from the establishment that deviated from employing me fairly recently sealed the fact that we weren't going to wait around for an opening.

By then, the attitude of a V in pain and an over-excited and hungry Paris led to the decision that a certain Scottish establishment would cater her meal, and those "toasted leftover wraps" were back on our menu!

A very important birthday phone call was interrupted by technology again this afternoon, with our hands-free phone also displaying signal-free interludes during conversation.  Another thing added to the "things we need to replace" list.

V went to go to the shops for some dinner items, and car battery charger got added to the "things we need to replace" list.

Luckily, the complete lack of battery made itself known in our driveway, so V still got to the shops for dinner items AND got to have the RACQ come visit us and recommend the abovementioned car battery charger...

Paris and I set about making his birthday cake - the old favourite, Moist Chocolate Cake by Stay at Home Mum.  Do you know what a difference it makes if you read 1 1/4 as 1 3/4 when you are looking at the sugar?

Yeah - not recommended.

 On the whole, though, he did say that he enjoyed the day.  Isn't he sweet?  Happy birthday darling - and next year its going to be different.  Isn't it?

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Three years ago today

was a Saturday.

It was a gorgeous day, and I had nearly finished unpacking all of my boxes from our move 10 days prior to Paradise.

I had an old flatmate up for the weekend. She is from Laos. She and 'Salina were concocting plans that involved a slumber party in the living room, junk food and a movie.

I had plans.

See, a month before three years ago today, I had taken my (love) life into my own hands and updated my profile on a dating website - not because I was looking for Mr Right, but because you may never never know if you don't dip your toe.

There were a variety of nibbles on the line, but only one intrigued me enough to tug the line.

We "chatted" - first on IM, then on the phone. We texted and emailed and got to know each other long distance.

Then we made plans for a date.

Three years ago today, we had that first date.

Obviously, it went well.

Monday, February 02, 2009

Desperado

No no, not me - hoo-ray. And thank you all for cheering on the sidelines and offering morself (lol a typo there, but I am going to leave it, tipping my hat to Freud) of encouragement - it meant the world. It seems that several litres of Adams Ale and a good night's sleep can make the difference.

Anyhow, needed a way to kick that last post of drivel to the kerb (or at least lower on the page) and thank goodness the television stations have come through for me in my hour of need.

No longer am I required to flick desparately around the cycle of 5 channels in the hope of seeing something to catch my attention - once again they are vying for my trade.

Admittedly, many years ago I was a-wake up to the television stations tendency to frock up like tarts at this time of year - mainly because I worked in an industry where I had to know which trick was likely to garner most public support and therefore most bang for the advertisers (and in the dark ages, that meant my clients) several thousand bucks.

As a result, I have a gift. I can digest a television schedule at a single reading and regurgitate it days later.

And due to the tendency of V and I to value our time together, there are programmes selected for addiction value quality, and programmes disdained for their clash with the former ability to lower our IQ threshhold.

Tonight was the first night, and again Monday nights hold that most beautiful ritual - ardently watching Desparate Housewives together.

Or rather, again Monday nights hold that most beautiful ritual - ardently watching Desparate Housewives, laughing hysterically at moments while V snored peacefully to my left.

The good news is that Tuesday holds another beautiful ritual - me retelling the whole darned thing to V.

Its really a good thing he has me, isn't it?

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Mmmmmmmmwaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!

At 9.02am on the 11th of January sometime last century, a boy child was born in San Diego.

First conundrum - does that make the "official" birthmoment 9.02am here, or 3.02am tomorrow morning here?

After two score and something years, a lot of adventures and a journey across the globe, this boy child (now a man) entered our lives.

For the last 2 years we have given him carrot cake. Not always on the day, but with much love and icing. This year is no different.

I love you so much, honey. Thanks for being in our lives.

I am glad the sunshine I pre-ordered came through, and sorry that I hadn't cleared the beach of nippers for you to get more out of the very rare surf.

Mmmmmmmmwaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!

Thursday, October 02, 2008

Scrumptious Silverbeet Omelette

This is one of those posts where you have to imagine the fantastic photos, because you probably need a few images to go with the sensational meal I will concoct with you this afternoon.



We have been child-free for the last 5 days (no, turn off your imaginations on that one - that is a by-the-by statement, not one to generate any sort of related picture) and resultantly, we have been eating some pretty fantastic stuff that 'Salina would delicately decline (you can put up a picture of that if you want).

We have had surprise salad (several times - so yummy it is a repeater that I will definitely post - maybe even with pictures - one day), tuna pasta bake with a parsley and lemon sauce (another successful creation), curry, burritoes with lots of onion and chilli and the most scrumptions silverbeet omelette ever!!! In fact, I think we might even sneak the last one past 'Salina's palate because it was really THAT GOOD!!!



Begin by harvesting the silverbeet that has been growing copiously in perfect conditions. No, I didn't take photos BEFORE the harvest - but here are half of the plants two days after the harvest.

I request that you imagine just how much silverbeet that is. It is the biggest bowl that you have to overflowing, it is your largest saucepan three times filled with steaming silverbeet, it is about 3 cups of post steamed silverbeet all chopped up - it is lots and lots!!!

If I had been buying silverbeet, I would have had to buy about 4 bunches - so folks, get planting because once you are addicted to this it will save you a FORTUNE! Six plants, two weeks between harvests and you're home and hosed. Either that or frequent a shop that buys lots of silverbeet, sells little and loves you for taking it off their hands...



So without ado (or adieu as my grandmother would say) rinse in a large sink of water any dirt off the leaves, chop off any stems, and throw into said saucepan - you should have enough water on the leaves to steam them if you keep turning. As this silverbeet is "coloured", the water turns a lovely pink colour. Can you imagine that for me please?



Chop up all that silverbeet. Do you know I thought silverbeet was spinach for many years because it grows so well over here it is regarded as interchangeable on all recipes? I now know better, and regard it as interchangeable on all EXCEPT salads - raw silverbeet just doesn't do it as well. Of course, my childhood was not exactly packed with spinach in salads, so I didn't know that then...

Chop, chop, chop that silverbeet. Turn it over and chop, chop, chop. Give it a quarter turn and (you guessed it) chop, chop, chop.

Drain off more of that pink juice. Imagine that you now have a mound of rich green mush.



Separate 5 eggs. Do this individually into a cup and then put into your bowl, because as sure as eggs you will have one "oops" and you don't want that moment to ruin your bowl with 5 egg whites - we need the whites to be pure.

Mix your yolks with the rich green mush. Grind on some salt and pepper, a good grating of parmesan cheese and the leftover ricotta you have in the fridge from the spanikopita(silverbeet wrapped in filo pies) you made on the weekend. (See a theme here?)

Instead of the photo that should be here, I ask that you imagine the silver bowl reflecting the greens, yellows, whites and black flecks half-mixed, because the picture would be all arty like that.



Start some butter melting in a large frypan, and then get out your handy-dandy electric hand-beater.

Of course, you could use a whisk, and good luck to you. I used to be the sort of foodie hippie that did that sort of penance, but ever since my brother struck the jackpot in the Christmas gift selection one year, I have been very attached to my handy-dandy electric hand-beater. It is still the same one - my brother is going to fluke such present selection about once every 25 years, so he still has about 11 24 years to top or replace it.

Plug it in (very important part of the instruction) and whip those whites.

Imagine these whites in my white jug (I am a big believer in using the handy-dandy electric hand-beater with my white jug - not just for aesthetics but also because it stops stuff from plastering the walls - something to remember when you have children joining you in the handy-dandy electric hand-beater fun) going all hard-peaky.

Of course, if I was a certain food blogger (actually, any sort of food blogger at all) I would offer a handy-dandy electric hand-beater give away at this point, but until I get old enough for my brother to replace it OR I win some money OR the cheap-ass-brand that didn't even put its name on the cheap-ass economical handy-dandy electric hand-beater gives me a couple to give away (with postage) I can't do that sort of thing.

I am the sort of food blogger girl who asks you to imagine the photos so I don't think THAT is happening any time soon...

Where was I? Oh yes...



Fold the hard-peaked egg whites into the green-yolk mix very gently. Do this fairly much straight after you have beaten them, because if you stop to yarn about how you would do things differently if you won lotto or gave assessments on your family's gift giving stakes or whatever, then the whole "peak" aspect of the eggs is gonna get lost.

Someone once explained to me that eggs are like elastic - and when you beat them, they are "stretching" around the air. If you stretch them to max (hard peaks) and then have them all sit around, its going to be like those trackies that have been all stretched out one time too many and they no longer had the body stretching them out - if you get the imagery (or have checked out my laundry).

You are thanking me for that information, aren't you?

Anyhow...



The picture here would have the silverbeet mix all nicely in your polished frypan, so that is what you should both imagine (if you are playing the game by my rules) and indeed do (if you are cooking). You would also notice that I had grated the leftover knob of parmesan over the top because I am fairly decadent when it comes to parmie.

Have it cook gently over medium heat for 5-10 minutes - until it sort of starts to bubble at the very edges because the mixture is so dense and the air cannot force its way through all that greeny goodness.

When it is at that stage, put it under the gorilla for another 5-10 minutes (medium heat again).

Once it is cooked, you can either gobble it up immediately OR take advantage of being child free and let it go as cold as it likes and heat it up when you finally get around to eating.



And here would be the picture of the empty plates with only one artfully draped crumb of egg-coated spinach fleck and two very, very happy people, sated with our scrumptious silverbeet omelette.

Isn't imagination wonderful - of course, I would edit out the bit where V then said "I am still starving" and cooked these cheese quesadillas - but forgive him, because he is a bricklayer who eats infrequently, but when he does clear the decks!!!

Oh, and he does do a mean cheese quesadilla!!! - as a bonus - here is the recipe (no pictures).

Take a tortilla. Slice some cheese. Wrap the cheese in the tortilla. Nuke.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Screw up Tuesday - or How Ms Jeanie attained every old married woman's desire

Bettina at Dances to the Beet of her own Drum hosts Screw-Up-Tuesday every - well, every Tuesday, really.

And as is my wont, I will combine that with the inspiration from several blogs I have read of late, that lament the fact that old married women seem to want their husbands to lessen the frequency and intensity of their ardour. It is a blues tune that I have also heard in real life, so I figure it must be a real phenomenon.

One of the upsides of not having found and married some high school sweetheart, I suppose, is that this has never been my experience.

By pure accident, it seems I found the answer to many of these women's prayers this week.

I love garlic. So does my honey. However, after his stomach went ballistic after our last feast of roasted garlic and onions a few weeks ago, he has been a little more tentative on the garlic front.

On Saturday, after a day that had a sort of sleepwalking through molasses quality, I prepared a feast of pork chops and roast vegetables. It was divine, even if I say so myself. Knowing V was reticent about the garlic component, I only roasted enough for me to taste that sweet nectar.

V, however, was not so sweet several hours later when, going in for a kiss in front of the Saturday evening entertainment he baulked and exclaimed "whoa, phew!!!"

He did attempt to make up for such bad manners, but the moment had been lost - and a word to the wise - holding your breath while going in for a kiss does not increase the desire of EITHER party.

So - my loss, the world's gain - if you have intentions of keeping the vampires and unwanted amorous attention at bay, I heartily recommend garlic - unfortunately.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Today has been going on for soooo long

and we still have a chunk of time yet to reach 9am.

I awoke I know not when or why, but it was dark and cold and obviously very, very early. Threads of my dreams immediately coagulated into blog ideas.

As I was sifting through them in an attempt to find that elusive trail that leads back to the other side to resume dreaming, my bladder kicked in and advised me that there were better places to be.

Sure - better places to be than in my nice warm bed with my darling right beside me snoring sleeping soundly? A small battle of wills took place, but as usual, bladder won.

Now, generally I sleep like a log - crash when I go down right through to when I get up.

However, if that continuous loglike-behaviour is disturbed in any way I have a tendency to not be able to go back to sleep for ages. Like ages and ages. Like unless I don't need to get up for a few good hours, it is best that I don't even try to go down again.

Of course, given the cold snap and the warm delights my bed offered and the fact that the clock said 3.45am, I forgot this and did give it a shot.

I snuggled down and cuddled up to my sweetie - who grunted and rolled to the extremity of the bed.

I tried to think all sorts of dreamy thoughts - but blog posts kept jumping up at me and getting written in my head. Far superior posts than this one. Ones about genealogy and genetic predispositions and poetry and power dynamics in family structures and technological influences and textbooks and school teachers and torment and - just about any topic my mind skipped across became a mind blowing blog.

Of course, all this took place in my bed, not in front of the computer - the results speak for themselves really - so I moved my mind on to more logical things. Things like food and housework and work and money and budgeting and oh my, there is no cold meat for sandwiches and what do I need to buy for dinner tonight.

The minutes trudged along, and so several hours later at 4.23am I got up to do rather than lie there and ponder.

I thought I would be kind to my darling V, so rather than my habitual click on the computer as I rose I thought I would tackle housework at the other end of the house. Aren't I nice?

I cleaned the kitchen and found a recipe for corned beef fritters, as we had left-over corned beef (and vegetables - I have a habit of hiding vegetables in everything) and my daughter had loved SSB's last time we visited Granite Glen and I needed to have something to put in her school lunchbox.

I was chipper. The radio was (quietly) playing really woeful country music (not because I am a fan, but because the station I listen to for the news plays really woeful country music at ungodly hours), I was putting together a treat for my family and my to-do list was awesomely structured in my head.

And then? Well, then my darling sweet V came into the kitchen and pissed me right off managed to upset my equilibrium.

How can you do so with one so buoyant at 5.27am, you ask?

Step 1. Greet your beloved with the words "Hello alarm clock". Ensure that the tone you chose is one that indicates you have not entered the waking world happily and intend that feeling to radiate.

Step 2. Do not offer a kiss, a hug or even a meeting of eyes - instead shield them and say "F*$& its bright in here".

Step 3. And really, this is the most important step. Do the above WITHOUT CONSULTING THE CALENDAR. Or do so. Which ever. But any other week the response might be "oh I am sorry, light of my life" with a bit of understanding. This week - well, let me just say a little time out was called for before I got around to apologising for trying to be quiet and industrious while my family enjoyed their kip (oh, and subsequently also apologising for turning into a banshee and storming out of his vicinity, flicking off the light switch and swearing profusely - or something).

Hey look at that - its still before 9 - time to generate that awesome To-Do list and start ticking. Just don't be ticking me off. Its not advised. Consider this a mental health warning for all of us.

Oh, and in case you are worried - V still has all body parts intact, including his love and understanding for me, crazy hormones and all. Well, at least I think he does.

Hmm, I had best go downstairs and see if his fishing gear is still here.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Lessons in Life - Don't Jest with the Universe

because man, that universe can smite!

Where was I? Oh yes, being all smug and stuff about my organisational talents.

Then I left the building.

The first part of my day was not so bad. I went to the shops. I called my parents who were to meet me. I spoke to the answering machine on BOTH their mobile phones. This is not so unusual - they come from an area with no mobile coverage, and have a bad habit of forgetting to turn it on when they come to civilisation. My mother also has a habit of switching it off when she doesn't feel it necessary i.e. when she is not making the call.

While waiting at the queue at the ATM, I bumped into my father. There was another REALLY good reason for me getting the mobile phone answering machines - they had forgotten BOTH of them. Close universe, but it was not my organisational skills in question on that one!

Then I had to go to the library. I cannot blame yesterday's trip to the library on the Universe's current gripe - obviously I have a habit of upsetting the Universe.

Many moons ago, I took out some books. I have to admit that I lost one - to compound my crime, I failed to return the rest while I was looking for it.

It appears that the library would not only like me to pay for the book that I lost (fair enough - I would too) and the GST for them repurchasing it (cheers) but also for the overdue fines on the books I failed to return in a timely fashion. I know, they do that but really, couldn't they have a "cringe override", realise that people do these stupid things and just turn a blind eye? No? You are much harsher than I.

Do you know what the really hysterical thing about the lost book is? Its title and subject matter. The book that I lost is (drumroll please) "The Idiot's Guide to the Perfect Wedding". I shall pause a moment for you all to regain composure.

So, not only did I not read and glean the secrets of the said book (shut up Universe, I can still hear you laughing), but our wedding has already us $37.95 (plus $15 overdue fees - which count towards costs, I think).

Oh, and to screw its heel into the butt of my library experience - they don't have EFTPOS so although I was organised enough to have the spare dosh in my account, I could not use it so I have to go back there another day for the overdue fees to be released and receive my free book fix once again.

I was going to go and give blood at the blood bank, but as they didn't open for several more hours and as I actually had things to do at home, they missed out on some quality O negative. Take that, Universe.

I got home and was recounting this to V. Have I told you about V's sense of humour? It is on par with that shown by the Universe yesterday. He mentioned that he would have to lay rocks for an extra hour and a half for my forgetfulness (I am sure in jest) but he forgot - Universal Smite can work both for and against.

I was very sweet in mentioning that this was not the week in which to jest about contributions to the household, so to increase his hilarity factor he continued to draw great big squiggly targets on himself with every comment he made for the next 20 minutes.

Unfortunately, I was unable to defend myself when I realised that during my run around that day, I had failed to return the overnight DVD we had taken out on Sunday - another $6.60 pissed into the wind he will have to earn for my affection.

The good news is that dinner was beautiful! Zucchini slice with steamed beans and left-over spaghetti - mm-mmmmm. And the taco dinner tonight will be brought to us by V, as he has to take 'Salina shopping for a surprise for me and I have a P&C meeting. Come on Universe - I think it's showtime!

Monday, April 14, 2008

Go Fish

When I went fishing for V, I used lots of description about who I was and who I wanted to meet.

Under "Sport" I said: "I am a good one. Best at barracking and fantasty..."

Which is not a lie - I will happily give encouragement if required, but in terms of participating then I like things other than sport to physically challenge me.

And truth be told, there are avenues in life that are termed "Sport" that should not have that moniker. I will not name them here, because it will bring all sorts of jellyfish to my pond who will no doubt want to argue the finer points of their "sport" and while I think debating has merits, it falls into the "meh, can't be bothered unless I really care" category.

One of those murky areas is fishing. If there was a category on the internet dating site that I landed V on, my response would have been "great excuse to read a book" - and I probably would not have even had a nibble from him, let alone a tug on the line.

Because pre-Jeanie V had a hardened habit of keeping the rods in the back in case he ever had a spare half-hour to see what was biting (besides mosquitoes).

It doesn't bother me - as I said to him, if he is not home by 9pm he had better have some bloddy fish - not that that rule has ever been tested.

And it didn't bother me that he gave 'Salina a fishing rod of her own for Christmas. I think it wonderful that he wants to share an activity he enjoys with "the middle one" and that I might get a few hours of reading time at some point.

Of course, there have been a few weekends since Christmas, but for one reason and another the line was only attached this weekend, and Saturday afternoon one very eager 'Salina was casting across the back yard for practice. She caught several trees and a ginger cat!

Sunday we finally decided that the day had arrived. I packed snacks and books, 'Salina danced a jig and applied sunscreen while V tied hooks and prepared the bait box. Unfortunately he heeded my "oh, we can get some there" advice - but then, he should not have asked my opinion as to whether we should bait up in our local village or the smaller but fishier villages to the North.

We learned - Northernmost village has NOTHING open (except the international sugar transport shed - I need to take a picture some time for you) on a Sunday.

We also learned that Nextnorthern Village shuts most shops at 2pm - and we had aimed for 2.30pm. However, we did find one general store that sold everything from bait to health food to lollies. It was one of the only times we have ever left such an establishment without a plea for the latter - 'Salina was THAT excited.

The little cove that we chose for our initial foray into fishing was ideal for the purpose - so ideal, indeed, that every kid on their first fishing outing for miles around went there on Sunday! However, following the unwritten "personal fishing space" rule we still managed to get our little bit of sand and set up.

Lines baited, 'Salina and V both cast and waited for tugs. I found a comfy spot of sand and got my magazine out. My reading did not even get to start however, as V asked me to hold his rod for a moment or two.

Now, I know there are some traits that learned and some traits that are genetic, and I am not sure which one patience falls in to the category of - but either way, 'Salina is not the girl to understand "just sit there for 10 minutes" command - nor is her mother.

Luckily the fish were hungry, and we got many tugs - we were far busier feeding the fish our prawns than hooking them, however. V had an almost full-time job of baiting (he said he was a master) and lo and behold - I spent a whole afternoon fishing.

I stand before you today and even confess that I learned to cast!

Cost for the day: 1 bag frozen prawns, 1 sand worm, 3 hooks, 1 sinker.







Tally for the day: baby flathead (on the left - courtesy of 'Salina's line - he swam free after this shot) and baby bream (on the right - courtesy of V's my line - feisty little beggar, eh?

'Salina wants to go fishing all the time now. Me - well, I actually enjoyed it more than I thought I would, so I may tag along - so long as the baiter and line de-fisher
is available, because I do so shriek like a girl!