I kissed a girl

And I didn't like it, nothing to do with cherry chapstick either. Despite living in Cape Town for most of my adult life there is one custom I have never been able to get into, kissing total strangers on the lips in greeting. I mean no offence to all the lovely lips out there but really, to me a kiss is highly personal and special, not to mention the unknown germs lurking on the strangers lips.
I love to hug and when I meet an old friend or family member it's just so nice to feel the warmth of that kind of greeting but when a mere acquaintance grabs me and puckers up, no. Lets be honest, if it was Colin Firth (sorry dear) I would no doubt make an exception but in general I'm saving my kisses for the ones I love.
A friend gave me five beautiful roses last week, burnt orange with a red border, they are so very lovely and I didn't even have to kiss her.

Tuesday Tip

Make Snickerdoodles - they're so good.

snickerdoodles - makes about 35 or 40 biscuits

250g butter
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (please, not essence)
110g brown sugar - I use the treacley one that looks alive
220g castor sugar
2 eggs (free range of course)
410g plain flour
1 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

Extra 1 tablespoon castor sugar and 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon mixed together

Beat butter, extract and both sugars together until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time until just combined.
Sift together the flour, bicarb and nutmeg and gradually add to the creamed mixture. Mix together well, I use the dough blade on the Kenwood, just for a short while.
Cover and pop into the 'fridge for about half an hour, just to firm up.
Put the castor sugar/cinnamon mix on to a plate and taking a dessertspoon or so of the mixture, roll into a ball, roll in the sugar mix and put on to an ungreased baking sheet - 7cm apart.
Bake in a moderate oven - 180c - for about 12 mins. The balls will flatten into lovely biscuits with a slightly cracked surface and thoroughly tasty taste.

Thank you for the music

Am I being unreasonable? Saturday morning, the dulcet tones of Christene wake us at around six, she plays really good music (if indeed it is her choice) and barely says a word. But wait! Seven o'clock and verbal diarrhoea begins, accompanied by really stupid yelling and fake laughter.
Am I unreasonable to want - wait for it - MUSIC on my music channel of choice? No such luck so, I change to another radio station where I am expected to listen to some guy summing up what was said during the week I DON'T CARE, I want music. On to another channel, then another, no luck, it seems the ego driven programmes have no place for music. If I want talk, I'll tune in to talk radio, I want MUSIC!!!
During the week I don't much mind the chatter, LeeAnn, Mabale, Sias (a fellow ginger) and Damon keep me well entertained, they seem to be intelligent people and there's no off-mike fake laughter. But at the weekend no such luck.
But, we have a cunning plan (and we're fortunate enough to have DSTV) and so on goes the telly (a no-no any other morning) and we tune in to VH1, great music, modern and old, all is well.

Tuesday Tip

Keep the mystery alive.
No matter how close, lovey dovey, kissy, kissy you are, there are some things your partner doesn't have to see. These days the opinion seems to be "you have the right to know". I don't always agree.
Once upon a time it was generally agreed that a man's mother, wife and occasionally sister did none of the following
She didn't break wind, shave (anywhere) or have temperamental times of the month. Those things were reserved for lesser women. Now, the "opposite sex" know all about things with wings, chin waxing, brazillians ("You mean that's not natural darling?") and bowel movements.
Keep the mystery alive. He's not stupid, he knows these things happen but he doesn't have to witness the process. Save the girly stuff for when he's gone to the hardware store or watching a boring rugby game.
Likewise gents, she doesn't have to pull your finger, see you waxing that manly back and bum or painfully tweezing nose hairs. Toe nail clipping in the lounge is a no no, let her think that your toe nails never grow, just like her leg hair.
So when you hear from a man that his lady is natural, never wears makeup, doesn't have to excercise and can eat what she likes well, she is indeed one who keeps the mystery alive.

Apology

It seems I forgot yet another famous family member, she is a cousin, living in Canada and she is no other than..........Brenda Lee.
I am so chuffed that she reads my blog!!

Rowland

After reading "Mommy Forgets my Name", the love of my life pointed out that I forget his name. This is so funny, I'm one of those people who don't shorten names, it's Caroline, Veronica, Timothy, Samantha etc so it's particularly rich to be reminded of just how many pet names I have for the Silver Surfer - most of which will not be revealed.
Just remember - A Rose by any other name would smell as Sweet.

Tuesday Tip

I really like carrots and we eat them almost every day. Here's a quick way of slicing them, rather like the fine cutting of onions.
Place the carrot on the cutting board after peeling it. Hold the fat end and with your sharp kitchen knife slice down the center of the carrot, (not cutting the fat top). Turn the carrot over (would that be 90 degrees?) and make the same long slice. Now you have four legs joined to one fat top. Simply slice across the carrot and you have triangles of lovely carrot.
Enjoy.

One for the Moms

I love this rhyme, featured on an SOS Children's Villages book mark.

Mommy Forgets My Name by Bruce Lansky
My mommy calls me sweetie pie. She calls me honey bunny.
She also calls me poopsie,
which I think is kind of funny.
My mommy calls me sugarplum
and also sleepyhead.
My silly mom forgets my name
when she tucks me into bed.

Moms Rule!!

What's in a name?

A few years back we started writing down the names of "celebrity" customers, you know, the ones who share their name with someone famous. I had forgotten about it until earlier this year when we were served by Jessica Simpson in Bloemfontein. Here are a few of the ones who have crossed our threshold, with their spelling.
Jack Bower, Jean Voight, Gary Cooper, Robin Williams, John Williams, Charlie Brown, Dean Martin and Blackbeard (truly). The family ones I add for fun are my cousins ex wife Mel Gibson and my cousin Missy Elliott.
Have a grand long weekend.

Words to live by

With the world in tumult, as it is, I have a short line from todays Daily Om which I think sums up life
"Integrity is the foundation of civilisation"
Now if the world can just find integrity......................

Tuesday Tip

Go to the wardrobe, open the doors and grit your teeth. It's time to get rid of the old favourites. You have to pretend you're Trinny and whats-her-name and ruthlessly chuck out the clothes you haven't worn for two years, the clothes that are too small - no, you won't loose weight and fit into them again, unless of course you're pregnant and even then it's doubtful - and the clothes that frankly, are just too awful, bad choices in the heat of the moment etc.
Here in Cape Town winter is yet to come, we have the dreaded August/September storms which for some reason always coincide with first Sion's and then Rowland's birthdays. Hmm. There will be more cold and rain and out there are many people who don't care how retro your clothes are as long as they are warm.
Jerseys, t shirts, skanky tracksuit pants or good quality, hardly worn garments that you shouldn't have bought, the recipient probably won't be too fussy, warm is warm.
Watching The Closer last night I was reminded that one man's junk is anothers treasure. I sweet lady once told me that the way to recognise her house was by the boat in the side garden. Well, she didn't recognise the treasure there because on The Closer they had an eighteen foot powerboat on the front lawn, it had been filled with water and was being used as a sort of jacuzzi.
I am THE biggest horder in the world - I think I prefer collector - so if I can do it, anyone can. Besides, if the economy picks up you'll have a good excuse to shop.