K8 the GR8

I was kind of nervous at the prospect of meeting Jefferson Davis, I’ve heard his podcasts with BrianF and Dad and by the sounds of it, he is one intelligent guy.  I tend to steer clear of intelligent people as a rule, they have a habit of showing me up.  My half of the conversation seems to fill up with potholes of confused space, making life difficult for the other person who soon gets tired of prompting and goes in search of something more titillating.

This was not so with Jefferson though.  We hooked up at Headrambles Manor and I watched as Grandad slowly emptied can after can of Guinness into his and Jefferson’s belly and banter flowed free.  We skyped BrianF to make him jealous, spoke about things that are and things that should be, and watched Dustin honour Ireland in his own special way and it was good.  Jefferson’s a quiet bloke with an accepting presence and the skill of throwing out honesty that makes you feel like an old friend.  Seriously great company to be in, innit?

I brought him to Johnny Fox’s for five minutes because circumstances were unfavourable (this pub has seriously lost it’s people skills), then to Barracuda in Bray where we got some grub and got to watch the sky turn from purple to brown by the sea-shore. 

Today I dragged him all over the place, or at least to as many aesthetically interesting places in Wicklow as I could within reason.  We went to Lough Dan at the brink of the Sally Gap to gaze down into the valley for a bit, then strolled around Victoria’s Way to meditate and admire the statues (I was worried about bringing Puppychild to this as some of Victoria’s art is disturbing to say the least, but as it turned out, the butterfly season is here which kept her busy enough!).  Jefferson and I admired the statues, books and craftwork in the shop which was empty of any other living soul. He watched as I helped myself to some jewellery and left money under the brass monkey on the counter, and appreciated how truly Zen-like this Victoria character is.

We got an Avoca take-away (Avoca Foccaccia is the yummiest Foccaccia there is) and drove home to eat and wait for Laughingboy to return home from school.  I was dissapointed that the neighbours behaved themselves and denied Jefforson any scandal, but there you go.

I thought Powerscourt deserved a bit of a mooch, but we got there just as the gardens were closing which was a crying shame, so I brought him to Powerscourt waterfall instead.  Jefferson farted about with his camera over towards the waterfall itself while I brought the kids to the playground.

I say ‘I brought the kids’, but ashamedly I got pretty excited when I saw it and almost forgot to bring the children with me…  it’s one of those highly-sophisticated jobs with lever-controlled sand diggers and climbing towers and a most excellent roundabout with central controlling.  I -  sorry - we… had a ball and Jefferson had to drag the lot of us away kicking and screaming when it was time to go home.  It was quite embarrasing in hindsight.  To give an example of it’s excellence, I noticed that the entire bus of (adult) Croatian toursits were not over by the waterfall farting about with their cameras,  instead they were clambering all over the rope-bridges and photographing each other making tits of themselves by the monkey-bars, giggling away like four-year-olds.  It was quite amazing to watch.

Today was the best tourism epic since Gwen the French student of ‘03.  Thanks Jeffo

First of all, I’d like to thank Sue Doe Nim from the heart of my bottom for recognising that it is tough work growing up a relatively normal person given the fact that my parents are both complete nutters.

I’d also like to thank her for this:

It gives me warm fuzzies to think my printed brain farts are making a difference to her day!

I’m going to pass it on to ten of you fellow brain-farters, just because your blogs cheer me up and get my cogs grinding.  Youz all rock so you doez.

Baino, because I’m raging you live so far away and the Blog Awards gave me a hankering to share a drink with you.
Hailey, for being real in all senses of the word!
English Mum, because I love your blog and your Bert.
Jenny, because your posts are always interesting and I like the way you think.
Manuel, because I like the cut of your jib.
Hairyfish, you are the King of funny quickies!
Dad, because you could do with some iron, and you’re my bloggy idol as well as my reality idol!
Medbh, for keeping it real and because you’re so pretty.
Moo-Dog, because I can’t believe I haven’t discovered your genius earlier!
and
Brian, because you were there from day one

I’ve noticed, though, that the award itself is very pretty.  While us ladies love this sort of thing, I’m worried that the blokes will think it a little too… umm… ‘quaint’.  So for you gents who would prefer something slightly more butch, I give you this:

This next meme is from Brian who I would also like to thank because his meme is easy-peasy and da’cent craic.

Four jobs I’ve held:
-Pharmacy Technician (Unqualified! I lied my ass off to get that job)
-Dunnes Stores Checkout girl
-Pint puller in a hotel near Bray
-P.A. to the M.D. of a glazing company (This sounds impressive, but there were just two of us working for the company.  Christmas parties were really quiet.)

Four movies I’ve watched over and over again:
-The Snapper
-The Power of One
-Stand by Me
-The Labyrinth

Four places I’ve been:
-Stonehenge
-Skinnydipping in the sea on a Donegal beach at night-time surrounded by thousands of tiny glowing swimming ameoba
-In a cave in France with a candle and my dad, surrounded by bats, cavepaintings, and huge white spiders
-Trabolgan (exotic, ooooo!)

Four places I’ve lived:
-Dun Laoghaire
-Kilpeddar
-Wicklow Town
-Terenure
(Not too well-travelled, me)

Four tv shows I watch:
-The Shield
-The Wire
-Weeds
-Sopranos

Four radio shows I listen to:
-Ray D’Arcy (Today FM)
-Jenny Huston’s The Waiting Room
-Rick O’Shea (2FM) and I’m not ‘just saying’ that because he’s a bloggerer!
-Matt Cooper’s The Last Word

Four things I look forward to:
-Moving house
-The smell of the first lawn-cut of the summer
-Having money to spare again
-Brushing out the dog’s winter coat

Four favourite foods:
-Prawn Curries
-Black Olives
-Spreadable Chocolate Sauce
-Chili Con Carne

Four places I’d rather be:
-Living in my new house
-Thailand
-In the pilot seat of an F14 fighter jet
-Camping in the Grand Canyon

Four people I email regularly:
-Me aul ‘fla
-My buddy Lou
-The Chairman of the local resource group I belong to
-Mathilde, an ex-French student of ours

The rules say that I have to pass this meme on to four people, then comment on their blogs to let them know.  I am however, in Sue-Doe-Nim style, going to break the last part of this rule because I’m on a dial-up connection which has to be disconnected now for the good of my bank balance.  Don’t worry though, I’ll be reminding you in due course…

I pass this meme forward to Me Mammy, Eire Rules, Jenny in her Living Room, and Curly K!  Have fun, ladies!

The following is taken from the book ‘211 Things a Bright Boy Can Do’ by Tom Cutler.  All information taken directly from the book is marked by quotations, otherwise the material is summarised by Yours Truly.

1. This is the well known trick of slicing a banana without peeling it.  If you stick a needle through a dark spot and rotate it sideways repeating on the opposite side, then do the same at various intervals, you’ll have an unpeeled sliced banana.  Leaking is involved, so it’s best to have this trick prepared in advance.  “You can leave it in the fruitbowl for an unsuspecting victim, or pretend to cut it with an invisible knife, before peeling it yourself.  Children find this particularly mysterious.”
2. Get two blindfolded partyfolk to feed each other bananas.  “This can be highly amusing, as you might suppose, and there are many interesting variations possible - which I will leave to your imagination.”
3. There is a trick you can do with either a peeled hard-boiled egg or a (partly peeled) banana, a wide-necked bottle, and a piece of burning paper.  The idea is to block the neck with the foodstuff of your choice, trapping the flame inside.  The fires need for oxygen should then suck the banana inside, thus peeling it for you.  “But, in all my years of trying this interesting sounding stunt, I have never made it work.  The amount of energy required for the job is apparently just too great.  Nevertheless in the spirit of scientific enquiry, you could try it yourself.”
4. Planning a boring day out with relatives in a stately home?  Conceal a banana up your sleeve and keep a hold of the top part with thumb and forefinger.  As you pass a small tree, turn your back to the relatives and grab a small branch, pinching the banana against it.  “With great seriousness, draw people’s attention to it saying: ‘It’s amazing what grows here now.  It must be global warming.’  Pretend to tear the banana off, then peel it and eat it.  Gets a laugh every time.”

Mr. Cutler then follows with a wee snipped of banana trivia; “A 1982 law forbade joking about Zimbabwean president Canaan Banana’s name.”

As my own personal number 5, I would like to offer Baino’s further suggestion as it is a classic… “they’re handy for demonstrating the application of a condom!”

Minced beef is a wonderful foodstuff. I couldn’t turn it down when my friend offered some to me. She’d over-stocked in the supermarket, and had left the sealed package in the fridge for a few days with a view to feeding it to her dog. I took it off her hands, and threw it into my own fridge, intending on turning it into something yummy some night.

The days passed, however, and the hectic weekend denied me any chance of cooking at all. When I did finally fish the meat out of the fridge, I saw to my dismay that it had turned a funny grey colour, bordering on green. I peeled back the sealed cellophane and had a sniff.

Women develop a highly effective survival technique when they become pregnant, and it stays with us. We can sniff a product, and instantly judge from our queasiness levels as to how nourishing it will be for our growing foetus. I can smell a rotten sausage from five miles away, as the actress said to the bishop.

This minced green beef, now six days past its sell by date, didn’t smell too toxic at all! Then I remembered a fact I’d learned. Apparently the curry was invented to use up stocks of rancid meat. Enough spices and pungent herbs can disguise even the dodgiest of foods.

I emptied the meat into a dish, then added curry powder, cardamom, cumin seed, chile powder, ginger, worcester sauce and of course, oodles of salt and pepper. I kneaded it all together, and made home-made burgers out of it.

The Accidental Terrorist picked up his burger and took a large bite.

“Jeeeezus!” he exclaimed. I went pale, and squirmed a little.

“Is it ok?” I asked breezily.

“It’s feckin’ delicious!!! Did you make these?”

“Yep!” I said. “Did you know that curry was invented to disguise the taste of rancid meat?”

“No” he said, and took another large bite.

I did my part. I gave adequate warning. I know you’d love to hear that we both spent the remainder of the evening fighting for toilet-bowl space, but we didn’t. Not even so much as a ‘hot ring of fire’ the next morning.

My granny would be proud of my frugality.

I’m finding myself with spare time suddenly but with nothing much to say.  Then I decided that it is very rare for a blogger to post a post and use all of their tags at once (Bloggers such as Brian F and Stupid Irish Daddy are disqualified for lack of imagination of course).  This is my challenge,  and I’m giving myself an award for it.  You can have one too if you can do it.

What is both strange and unusual is that marijuana is illegal.  This subject is taboo, but it’s just something to think about.  Once one partakes in the activity of having a spliff, one is immediately part of the chain.  One is working hand in hand with the drug-lord and his artillery, and my philosophy is that this is unfair burden on us stoners.  It’s a little known fact that weed is quite benign, that it’s worst effects are the munchies and diminished brain capacity, but we accept this, and we take responsibility for it quietly and with a few giggles thrown in. 

Working the daily job is not easy.  Neither is dealing with the family and it’s shortcomings.  My weakness is that I would like to sit back and be able to put up with the tripe on the box and find it humourarse.  Sometimes it’s nice to listen to music or glance at the uncategorised pleasures of this life and be inspired to write new poems and things.  Contrary to public rantings, weed does not generally make us want to take up smack or turn bi-polar.

That’s all I’m saying because this is supposed to be a quickie.

Here’s my award.

Do you want it?  I’d offer it up for general grabs but seeing as memememe is one of my tags, I have to name names.

Me aul’ f’la

Irish Flirty Something

Scribbles by Hanulf

(You know you want it)

A friend of mine from school had a father in the advertising business.  She told me that if a product label shows a photograph of something, then the ingredients of that product MUST contain that something in its pure form.  For example, a bottle of orange squash with a photo of oranges on its label, means you’re getting a product with real oranges in it somewhere.

The cheapie washing powder I use has a photo of a baby on its label.  If washing powder is made from lye, and lye is a bi-product of human fat… I’m adding two and two and starting to feel sick.

On a different note, if you’re finding yourself with some yukky brown overripe bananas and you’re unsure what to do with them (hold that dirty tongue of yours, ma), here is the most delicious, cheap, and easy to make banana bread I’ve ever tasted.  I found myself trapsing in a zombie state into my kitchen at 3am this morning for a quick taster (just to make sure it hadn’t gone off).