Village Dining (a 3 part story) Part One

A couple of weekends ago, my husband and I went out to eat in the village.  There is actually a restaurant (which I kept forgetting about) and we decided to give it a try on Valentines Day.  I thought I should call first (since it was kind of a last minute thing) to see if they even had a table (I was warned that they were small).  I took the liberty of calling and this is what I got:

ring, ring, ring

"Yes?"
"Hi, I was wondering if you had any space available for this evening?"
Pause "for a room?"
"Uhm, no.....are you a restaurant?"
Longer pause (like he was thinking about it) "yes."
"Do you have any tables available?"
"Hold the line, I'll check"
Hand over mouthpiece and screams "do we have space?"
Hand off mouthpiece "yes."
"Great, I'd love to book a table"
"Okay - we'll see you tonight - goodbye"
"Wait, do you need to know what time we are coming or is it a set seating"
"What time are you coming?"
"Uhm, 7:30?"
"Hold the line, I'll check"
Hand over mouthpiece "she wants to come at 7:30...."
Uncomfortably long silence  "7:30 is fine - see you then."
"Wait, do you want my name?"
"Go on then."
"Davies."
"Right then, 7:30 tonight."

Although unsure if we had an actual reservation, Matt and I were giddy with anticipation - we rarely go anywhere by ourselves and on this night our neighbor was kindly watching Maddie for us. We both got semi-tarted up and made the 10 minute walk to the place.  We entered this old building (historic old, not falling-down old) and were presented with a very cozy and quaint candle lit restaurant.  There was space for about 6 or 7 tables.  As we made our way in we were greeted by a waiter who led us to our seats and explained that the table was ours for the night so "no rush".  It was apparent at this time that we were the only ones there - with the entire staff watching our entrance with anticipation!  Suddenly it was AWKWARD!  Perhaps we were the first booking of the night (gulp) perhaps the only booking all night? Perhaps they were all cannibal zombies and we were on the menu this evening?

Obviously we were not eaten, because I'm blogging this (or am I)?  The rest of the story will have to wait.   Stay tuned for Part Two.

And THAT, folks, is what we in the business call a "cliffhanger'...

Car Trips - A Love Hate Story

I have just gotten back from a car trip - a long car trip (more on it in a minute) - and it got me thinking about some of the best and worst car trips I have ever had.  Here they are (in no particular order of bestness or badness) within respective categories:

Best Car Trips

1. Driving from Wisconsin to Florida for Spring break my sophomore year of college with my best friend (and her awesome mom) on a whim.  We decided about 2 days in advance to do it - Kim's mom was going down there and suggested we follow her down.  She agreed to pay for our hotel and food because she thought the company would be fun and was just plain cool.  We left at 3 am and made it to Georgia before calling it a night.  So excited we were by the call of the road, that we all decided that come hell or high water, we were going to get to the beach by morning.  We got back up at 3 am again and finished the drive down to Panama City in time for pancakes on the beach.  The trip could have been sponsored by Wilson Phillips and Budweiser because that is all we listened to and drank the entire time (obviously we were not drinking Bud in the car, just to clarify).

2. Driving from Ke'e beach to Polihal'e State beach in Kauai with anybody.  There is basically one main road that follows the coast around the island and it is beautiful!  We normally (by we I mean whoever is with me) stop off at our favorite places along the way and if we see a beach that looks good - we stop!  This drive is best in a convertible, but I have found it almost as enjoyable in a jeep or sedan.

3. The trip from Peterborough to Belfast, which was my first solo journey in the UK.  I had been in the country for about 5 months and had to make my way back to Northern Ireland after dropping Matt off at a course that he was on for a week.  I hit the road with a map, tickets for the midnight ferry and a promise that I would call Matt repeatedly.  I dropped Matt off at 7 am and the first call I made to him was at 7 that night - from our home.  I had made it up to the ferry so early that I caught the one leaving at 4.  I was so proud of myself for navigating not just the motorways of Britain, but the country roads of  Scotland all by my lonesome.  After spending half a year completely dependent on someone for getting me by, it was a nice change to be in control again.

The jury is still out on:

The drive I made with my brother when I moved from Wisconsin to San Diego. It was cramped (bad), we bickered alot (normal), he ended up ditching me in Vegas (bad) and we didn't speak for almost 2 years (the worst). On the other hand, while we were fighting over what music to listen to, my brother and I bonded as adults in a way I don't think you can if you are not trapped in a car with another family member for over 30 hours. (good). I got to see many parts of America that I had only dreamed about (good). I had this sense of independence and freedom that I had never felt before and just KNEW that my life was about to change (the best).

Worst Car Trips:

1. The trip from Florida to Wisconsin with my parents and brother coming back from a Disney Vacation gone awry.  The trip back was awful - it was the coldest winter on record and freak ice and snow storms crippled most of the South.  My father scratched his cornea about 6 hours into the trip and my mother had to do the driving herself - 5 miles per hour through Georgia, Kentucky and Tennessee.  At one point I believe our car broke down and we had to get it fixed which took ages.  Oh - and did I mention that I had been throwing up for 4 days and showed no signs of stopping on the journey home?  NICE!  My mother still cannot watch the movie 'Vacation' without gagging a little bit and muttering "never again".

2. The car trip from San Diego to Kansas with an old boyfriend who had a mustang convertible.  Why do you ask would this be a bad trip?  Ummmmm - it was 115 degrees and he had no air conditioning!  To cool off we would roll up all of the windows in the car until we were sweating and about to pass out from heat exhaustion, then we would roll down the windows just to feel the hot air blow the sweat away. I lost about 10 pounds of water weight which I guess was kind of good (I like to look for a silver lining.) Outweighing my water deprived weight loss, however, we were going there to pick up his daughter who had been staying with his parents for a few weeks.  On the ride home she asked if she could call me mom.  I was 25, had heat poisoning, hadn't peed for a week and decided that I was not ready for such a romance.  We broke up not long after we got back.

3. The trip across Lincoln to get from my gym to the Staples store (and Starbucks if I'm being honest).  It is 3 miles and takes about 45 minutes.  They say there is a fine line between love and hate, but on this one friends I can tell you that I don't ever cross the line - it is a hate, hate, hate thing!

4. The drive I made yesterday with my neighbor, her two kids and Maddie, from Bardney to North Yorkshire.  In. A. Blizzard.  In fairness to the kiddies - they were pretty awesome, considering that we created a 10 hour journey out of what should have been about 5 1/2.  I don't know which was the worst:

• Getting stuck off the main road and spending an hour fish-tailing through the fog on a road the size of a hair, hoping we weren't going to die
• Trying to reverse my car up a steep gradient to avoid getting stuck at the bottom with the other 2 stuck cars and blowing out my transmission.   
• It could have been the part where poor Lucy threw up pink milk in the back seat while the other 2 kids were groaning "eeewwwww what's that smell?"
• But then it also could have been the part where we finally had a game plan to get out of where we were stuck, which involved several terrifying freefall-type slides down 25% gradient hills only to realize we had to get back up the other side and repeat the process 3 times.
• It also might have been the jerk on the road who decided that - even though the road conditions were hazardous - he would talk on his cell phone and tail me for about 30 minutes. 

(this is not actually my car, but the picture pretty much represents what we were dealing with minus the steep hill)

Yesterdays journey reminded of a couple of things:

1. I love to drive
2. I am pretty awesome in a lot of situations and pretty crappy in others
3. It is not just the journey but who you are with
4. Don't EVER reverse your car in packed snow up a steep hill
5. Long trips (good or bad) have the potential to be messy - bring lots of baby wipes and a towel!

Trimming the Fat (a closet makeover)

I am pretty sure that 90 percent of the population has seen the TV show Friends.  That is probably an overstatement, but I am going with it anyways - roll with me folks!  There is an episode that is particularly endearing because, well, it is all about me.  I am talking about the one with Monica's secret closet.

If you have never seen Friends then here is a quick synopsis.  Monica is a clean freak.  Her friends have put up with it for years.  One day her husband notices a closet in their apartment that he had never seen.  It is locked.  When he finally picks it open he is bowled over with decades worth of stuff that has been shoved in there - untidily.  This closet is her answer to a junk drawer and this is where my story begins.

I too am a bit on the tidy side, although not quite as mental as my Friends friend Monica.  I too have that closet.  Here is where my story gets sad.  My closet is not some random, spare nook tucked away at the back of the house.  The closet in question is MY closet - and I can barely open it without being knocked on the head from something falling off the top shelf.  Here is a quick list of some of the stuff in there:

1. Clothes (summer, winter, dressy, too small, too big, too old and OMG why?)
2. Games
3. Wrapping Paper (about 20 rolls)
4. Ceremonial Swords
5. Roller Blades
6. Box full of stuff that I have visions of putting in a scrap book
7. An empty scrap book
8. 5 large carrier bags filled with different holiday decorations
9. Suitcases
10. Some of Maddie's old baby toys
11. A box full of Matt's old toys (nothing sick, but please don't ask)
12. An electric guitar amp
13. Old School Papers
14. Hangers that breed at a rate that would make rabbits ashamed

This is not a complete list - I think you get the mental picture.  If not, here is a real one (don't look if you suffer from low or high blood pressure or are on any medications for anxiety, OCD or acne).  Please appreciate that this photo does not convey the depth or bottom half of my closet.

Now on one hand I work in a gym, so my daily garb doesn't include anything that needs to be dry cleaned or even hung for that matter.  Because of this, I have tended to use my closet as a dumping ground for anything I don't want showing when company comes over to stay.  The guest bedroom is actually like crap limbo in our house and my closet, its final resting place.

I decided that today would be a great day to do 'something' about this eyesore.  For starters I have run out of drawer space to put anything that isn't yoga pants, for another I really need to lose some post holiday weight and thought that an afternoon reconnecting with beautiful garments that don't fit me might be just the impetus needed.

I decided that the best way to start was to take everything out of the closet and dump it back into crap limbo.  This was the result.

Then I started separating clothes into categories:

1. Things that were in season now, things that would be in season soon and things that can never be worn in England.
2. Things that needed to be mended and things that would be heinous even if they were fixed
3. Things that I will probably never fit into again thanks to having a kid and things that I could probably get into if I just followed my own advice and worked out more.
4. Things that are precious to me and things I don't remember buying
5. Hangers

Once the categories were decided I only put back the clothes that were in season and fit me.  After hanging up those 2 pieces I decided I had room for a bit more so I added some spring pieces and some formal wear as well.  The result:

I still need to sort out what to do with the rest of the space up top.  Oh yeah - and figure out what to do with all of the limbo crap - because it can not stay in our guest room.  I think this will be a work in progress.  Tomorrow the party supplies will find a new home - that is my goal and I'm sticking to it!

Do you have a secret Monica drawer, closet, room?  Send me a picture so I can feel better about myself!

Happy Birthday to YOU Rachel Doyle!

It is the day of my best friend's birth and firstly, I would like to personally thank her parents for coming up with such a great invention.  Rachel and I have been friends for 11 years now (how I wish I had met her sooner) and have maintained our friendship through 2 moves, 6 time zones, the addition of 1 husband (mine - she was married when we met), some major life hiccups and 2 babies (one each).  Through thick and thin, I do believe what has kept us so close is the fact that:

1.  We have respect for each others differences
2.  We both love cheese so much it hurts
3.  We don't take ourselves (or each other) too seriously most of the time
4.  We both have a disturbingly similar sense of humor (we like watching people fall down)

We both met at a time in our lives when (for many) the BFF in your life has already been a BFF for about 10 years.  I don't know about you, but the older I get, the harder I find it to make great friends.  Don't get me wrong - I have met plenty of lovely people as an adult - many of them good friends whom I adore and hang out with regularly.  I am not talking about those types of friends.

I am talking about the kind of BFF who can hold your hair back while you are puking tequila out of your nose because you are laughing so hard at the chick who just slipped in her 4 inch platforms on a wooden bar floor and is now sprawled out with her thong showing, screaming at her boyfriend to pick her up.

The kind of BFF that you can call at 4 am (even though you know she would really prefer it if you didn't) to tell her that you are angry that she moved to Texas and why won't she just come back so you have somebody to do stuff with.

The kind of BFF that forces encourages you to re-take up ballet at the age of 28, because she too remembers how great it felt to be a ballerina and needs a partner in crime.

The kind of BFF that will sit in the back of a convertible (top down), while it is pouring rain and allow you to pull over (not to put the top up) but to snap a picture of her soaking wet.

The kind of BFF who can convince you to tart it up to THE MAX in Vegas, comandeer a sequined saddle on the empty stage in the entry lounge bar of the Stratosphere and (politely) ask a group of Japanese business men to snap some pics (then offer autographs).

The kind of BFF that will let you dress up in her evening gowns and every piece of jewelry she owns while she dons her wedding veil to play some crazy Texas Hold'em with the girls.

You know the kind of friend I am talking about?  If you don't have a friend like this, I highly suggest that you find one, you can't have Rachel, she's my BFF and I don't share well.  She is a southern bundle of hospitality, charm and wit and makes the best damned cheese-based dishes I have ever had the pleasure to stuff myself with.

I wish, more than anything that I could spend her birthday with her - unfortunately due to work/child commitments I am stuck here in England.  This blog will have to do (and the Lush stuff being sent her way)!

Happy Birthday to YOU Rachel!  I love you more than I love to watch people trip and hurt themselves!

Smooches........Kittyn

Why I might never eat cheese again...

I write this blog with a heavy heart (and an even heavier digestive tract).  If you do not know me, you won't understand the complex and long-term relationship that I have with cheese.  Even if you don't know me, perhaps you have seen me stuffing my face with it in a restaurant, my car, the library....

To me, cheese is the food of Gods.  It goes with everything - like beige.  Cheese is the food equivalent of your favorite pair of neutral khakis.  You can put cheese with salty foods, spicy foods, bland foods, sweet foods, junk foods and healthy foods.  Of course, if you are a cheese purist, you can also eat it BY ITSELF!

I had a close encounter with cheese last night, however, that has left me with a lump in my throat and the desire to never eat cheese for the rest of my life (or at least a week, which ever comes first).

So, last night I was contemplating a very late night dinner.  I was tired and a container of Mexican Rice I had made a few nights ago was calling my name.  Seriously - it said "Robyn" as I was opening the lid.  As I opened the container I did a sniff test - I do this with all left overs even if it was made the night before.  I also did a visual check - and it was all checking out just fine!  I was about to put the dish in the microwave when I spied a bag of mozarella and thought outloud "this rice and this cheese NEED to be together as one!"  So I grabbed a fistful (okay 3) of the cheese and sprinkled blanketed the rice.  Shoved it in the microwave.  Waited for the 'ding'.  Took it up 3 flights of stairs to my bed to eat while watching some crap TV.  I got about 2/3 of the way through the delicious dish when I happened to look down at the bowl.  "hmmm - I don't remember putting green herbs into this rice dish!"  As I am putting the next forkful into my mouth it dawns on me - "coulditbethecheesenoIamsureIwouldhavecheckedohgodcoulditbemold?"  For a split second I actually considered finishing it, because it tasted lovely but then my SANITY took over and I flew back down all three flights, flung open the fridge door and grabbed the bag of cheese I had used.  As I am doing this I was really thinking "don'tbesillyyouwouldneverbesodaftastoputmoldycheeseonyourriceandnukeitandeatitfortenminuteswithoutnoticing!"  I opened the bag of cheese and what greeted me was a bag of very moldy cheese that I had just zapped in the microwave - AND EATEN!

Now I know that many types of cheese have mold.  I also know that it will not kill you and probably not even upset your stomach, but knowingly eating moldy cheese (of the non blue veined variety) is not nice when you come to the realization.  Surprisingly - I did not get sick.  Not surprisingly - I did drink 5 large glasses of water and brushed my teeth 6 times all the while saying the mantra "itsnotthatgrossitsnotthatgross".

I woke up this morning with what felt like a ball of lard in my stomach.  I have not eaten yet today because my body is still digesting the fist size ball of melted cheese mold that I ate last night.  The thought of cheese is making me ill right now.  I think I have found the cure for all addictions.  Cover your addiction in mold and eat it.  You will want to stop - immediately!  The addict in me right now is trying to justify a situation where cheese might be acceptable.  Tonight folks - that situation is not coming to mind.

And so I go to bed tonight on an empty stomach with visions of cheese mold dancing in my bowels!

Pancake Mirth

Mardi Gras is right around the corner and every year reminds me of why I love my husband so much and why I agreed (practically on our first date) to marry him.  Matt and I met around Halloween in California and got married just before Christmas of the same year (judge all ye like, it was love at first sight and I am convinced that I was not drugged in any way).  You may then wonder why Mardi Gras came into my decision to marry him, being that it was about 5 months away.  I will tell you the story.

So there we were sitting in a breakfast cafe in Ocean Beach on a lovely October morning.  We had recently kidnapped each other from a costume party that he had crashed and I was ready to leave and thought breakfast sounded appropriate.  At this restaurant (I use the term loosely it was really more of a greasy spoon), Matt was staring at the menu with wonder in his eyes.

"I can't believe a breakfast menu is 6 pages long - we have like 4 choices at home"
"We Americans like our breakfast"

More page flipping, more wonder and then his mouth turns up in the largest grin I have ever seen which turned into him spurting out in fits of laughter...

"This is the best place ever!  They actually serve pancakes for breakfast - I have never seen that!"
"What - you have never seen pancakes on a menu before?"
"Not really, no."
"Don't they eat pancakes in England?"
"Of course they do - but it isn't an every day thing!"
"Why - when do you eat pancakes - Pancake Day?"

I am trying to be cute, flippant, funny and cool all the same time and am satisfied that I am pulling it off when he replies in a deadpan voice...

"yes"

To which I actually start choking on my coffee in fits of laughter, trying not to roll off the side of my booth bench and knock myself out on the cement floor.  I was LOVING his sense of humor.

"Nice one - wait - seriously?"

Okay - I actually thought he was pulling my leg and then I realized - he wasn't!

"So, when is this so called 'Pancake Day'? Do they have a 'muffin day' and a 'bagel day' too?"
"Don't be ridiculous"
"Sorry - so Pancake Day - the celebration of pancakes then!  Do pancakes mean a great deal historically in England?"
"No - Pancake Day marks the start of Lent"
"Ahhhhh - you mean Mardi Gras"
"What?  I don't think so/"
"Mardi Gras is the start of Lent.  Also known as Shrove Tuesday or Fat Tuesday."
"Must be then.  We just call it pancake day"
"And do you eat pancakes all day?"
"That's just silly - no - we just make a batch of pancakes and eat them."
"I am liking your country more and more my friend!"

This actually led to an entire discussion about food including:

Pancakes versus Flapjacks
Flapjacks versus Granola Bars
Pigs in Blankets versus Sausage Rolls
Bucks Fizz versus Mimosas
(more on these at a later date)

Ever since that morning we have celebrated Pancake Day and still have a laugh about that first breakfast eight years ago.  BTW - The pancakes they use here are really more like crepes (very thin ones).  They are traditionally served with lemon juice and powdered sugar.  Here is a recipe in case you too would like to make some pancakes to celebrate Mardi Gras.


Pancake Day Pancakes:

• 150g plain flour
• 2 large size eggs
• 300ml milk
• 150ml water

• 1 teaspoon vegetable oil
• Butter to grease

Method

1. Sift the flour and make a well in the centre. Break in the eggs and mix in the flour with a wooden spoon.
2. Gradually add the milk and water, stirring well so that it becomes completely smooth. Add the oil and leave to stand in a cool place for 3 hours.
3. Lightly grease a heavy-bottomed frying pan. Heat to exactly the right temperature, but not so hot that it smokes the fat or burns the pancakes.
4. Cook a tablespoon of the mixture at a time, spreading it over the pan. You may need to loosen the edges of the pancakes from the pan before you toss them, and allow a minute on each side to cook them through. Stack on pieces of greaseproof paper before using.

A Weekend of Firsts

This has been an overwhelming weekend of FIRSTS for us in the Davies' household.  It involved a trip to the hospital, a missing binkit and a hair trim.

To start, my husband Matt is from Portsmouth and lurves him some football.

Being from Portsmouth he supports Pompey Football Club with every fiber of his English being.  His brother Stew does as well (also hailing from Portsmouth).  Stew's wife Sue and myself are honorary Pompettes and both made a pact during the marriage ceremonies to respective brothers to live and die by the mighty Pomps (I get gifts so it is cool).  This weekend Pompey was playing Man United in Manchester for £50 a pop (no small price).  Matt really wanted to go and asked about a month ago if I also wanted to go and see Sue and Stew and the big game.  I was really excited to see Sue and Stew at their house in Buxton  (nearish to Manchester), but was not so excited to sit outside in February to watch Pompey get crushed (sorry fans) by Man U with my 3 year old for 50 quid a ticket.

A plan was quickly hatched - Let us all go to Buxton for the weekend.  Matt and I  would take separate cars since Matt was spending the next week away at a training course not too far away from where we would be staying.  We would get there Friday night and have some drinks, eat some snacks and catch up.  Saturday morning Matt and Stew and Sue would get the train to Manchester to watch the game while Maddie and I hung out in Buxton - a great town with probably the best park EVER (the pictures here are the park/gardens/pavillion).   An extra plan was hatched on Friday night that Sue and I were going to go out on Saturday night while the boys watched Maddie and then Sunday we could chill out (and stuff ourselves sick on Stew's Indian cuisine) until it was time for us to go.  What a better way to spend a weekend!

Here is how it played out:

After finally making it to Buxton in the snizzle and fog I was looking forward to re-lax-ing!  It was just when my tension headache from driving whilst squinting went away that I realized I had left something very important at home.  That's right folks - I left my daughter's Binkit (blanket) on the couch!  She has not been apart from this stinky piece of mango colored fluff since she was about 9 months old.  Explaining to my overtired child that she was going to have to cope without it was:

1. heart breaking
2. headache making
3. exasperating since she was rapidly trying to convince me that driving the 2 1/2 hours back to get it would not actually be much of a sacrifice if I really loved her.

She did actually manage okay, after I explained about mistakes and forgiveness.  In all fairness she had just broken a cat magnet of Sue's (who had forgiven her) and I did use this as ammo.....

Saturday the whole crew left for the big game and Maddie and I were left with the whole glorious day spread out before us.  What would we do?  We decided that we would walk to the park/pavillion, perhaps do a bit of shopping, get some crafts to make homemade Valentines cards and then make a slap up Mexican feast for the crew on their return.  I can tell you how the day went:

1.  Walked to the Park/Pavillion
2.  Played on the Playground
3.  Rushed to find a toilet because Maddie had to go
4.  Were about to go shopping after we found a toilet because I was getting cold
5.  Got manipulated into going back to the play area
6.  Went 36 rounds on the rope bridge before it won and sent Maddie head first from 6 feet up
7.  Called 999 for an ambulance
8.  Rode in my first ambulance with my 3 year old strapped up to oxygen and BP monitors while trying t    to call my husband who was at a football match and couldn't hear me.
9.  Hung out in the nearest hospital to Buxton (40 minutes away) until the doctors were convinced that Maddie was not concussed and would be safe if taken home.

Sunday, Maddie and I had an uneventful drive home to Lincoln, stopped for lunch where I almost had to give her the heimlich (sp???) maneuver to remove a lodged french fry from her throat. Seriously, whenever Matt is gone we can not go more than 24 hours without something paramount to a Greek Tragedy happening.

After finally making it home in one piece we unwound ... and at bath time I decided that Maddie really needed a haircut.  This one may not sound like a big deal but she has never had a single head trimmed from her head. This might not be entirely true as I am fairly sure Matt has had to cut crap out of her hair on more than one occasion and I am fairly sure as well that he has admitted at least one instance to me out loud.    Let me explain Maddie's hair.  She has a strip of baby hair that is about 4 inches longer that the rest of the blonde curly tendrils that flank her head - and it lies on the top of it like dead straw.  I am not sure why I chose tonight to do it but was on a mission: the rat tail had to go.  I convinced her to let me trim it and although she was a bit apprehensive, she actually let me do it.  I would like to say that I lovingly draped her with a towel and snipped it off lovingly in tiny bits.  Truth was, I saw an opportunity, grabbed the 'tail' with my fist and chopped it off in a oner.  I am happy to report that she now has a gorgeous shoulder length bob and the rat tail has been lovingly tied in a ribbon and stuffed in her baby book.  The 'haircut' completed our weekend of firsts.

I am exhausted and hope not to have a week of seconds (left behind loved things, ambulance rides or missing hair)!  As is typical, however, when Matt is away surely:

1.  I will end up in the Emergency Room
2.  My car will break down
3.  The dog will need to go to the vet
4.  Maddie will get ill

Did I mention that the above four things happen in three's?!?  Send me some good karma kind peoples - I really need it right now ;p