Category: Food

It is all connected

Cats!!!

Catherine told me about Selkirk Rex kitties.  I couldn’t find the one she was telling me about so this one will have to do.  I love the fur, and the enormous eyes.  Then she told me that there’s a video of a kitten getting into a Rottie’s face; I couldn’t find that either but check out the following.
Cause cats pwning dogs never gets old…. 

Okay, more disparity in size, same principle. 

Change of pace:

Yeah, I don’t like Cosmo either.

The Luddite sent me this one…

A duo performing I WILL SURVIVE in a way that will RENDER IT IMPOSSIBLE for you to ever hear that song without snickering, ever, again.

I am streaming with tears, having watched this lovely cross post from the Luddite. What’s Opera Doc brought into the 21st century.

I’m waiting for my biscotti to cool.  I’ve done all of my valentine cards and now I just need a quick shower and I’ll be ready for work.  Sundae this afternoon in the caf!!!

Gas leak

Man, the last 48 hours have been jammed with incident. I was supposed to go pick Kopper up at 6:10 last night but between me getting tied up with something at home and then having to get over to the other Can car and her working late, I was a full half hour late picking her up. Well and good, we’re prepared to get the evil eye from the instructor, and then we run into a roadblock on Lougheed Highway right after Kopper says, “The Skytrain’s not running,” and we’re redirected way the hell off the highway, and we’re contemplating what this might be about including, Gosh wow, an Olympic security exercise (only 750 days to go until we host the world, barfula gagula).

We turn on the radio to News 1130 (the flexible enema nozzle of capitalism in the GVRD) and pretty much simultaneously with the announcer saying something about a broken gas line WE SMELL GAS. We’re not talking about a little whiff. It’s pouring bloody rain and the wind’s blowing and WE CAN SMELL GAS. For, like, six long city blocks. I remember thinking “Well, at least I’m on the explosion side, I should mask Kopper from most of the shrapnel.” Then Kopper says the equivalent of “Sod this for a lark, I’m taking YOU to the Keg.” At that point we’d been stuck in redirect traffic along Broadway for a while and we were going to catch the last 15 minutes of the class.
So we went to the renovated Keg on Willingdon and we ate and my GOD what it’s like to hang around people who don’t require you to censor every single thought. I think Kopper feels much the same – we ate and talked and talked and talked and it was definitely therapeutic.

Two dreadful nightmares and a commute

I guess I am having fever dreams or I’m working off the last bit of sleep dep. Now, when I say I had two dreadful nightmares, I don’t have nightmares like other people, who wake up filled with existential dread and needing medication to go back to sleep; nope, I just have bad dreams. The first one involved cleaning spots off my parents’ wall. Somehow one wall in their house, which is not the house they currently live in, got COVERED in two inch across wax splatters. Think “meditation circle gone horribly wrong” and that would about cover it. And not nice white paraffin wax splatters, either, multicoloured nasty Chinese candle wax splatters that left stains. Sigh. Continue reading Two dreadful nightmares and a commute

Katies here

Both of the Katies were here last night… Katie K was only too happy to collect a massage on my NEW MASSAGE TABLE and daughter Katie had to be talked into it. I made shrimp salad for dinner and then daughter Katie worked on my leftovers.   I think all the way around everybody slept better last night. I woke up at 7:40!!! Now I have to jet or I will be late for work.

I light a candle for my granny, who is poorly (not, I hasten to add, mortal poorly) and for my mOm, whose back is owie, and for people experiencing unexpected and unhappy making breakups.

Persepolis was wonderful, see it if you can, unless you hate movies with subtitles.

Nine hours sleep AGAIN

Either I’m clinically depressed or I’m actually getting enough sleep.  Since I wake up in the morning feeling calm, relaxed and rested, which is usually the opposite of either depressed or sickening sleep (you know, the sleep you get when you’re trying to fend off the latest round of germs) I think it’s the latter, and that’s just fine by me.

On the list today:

Get my thank you letter off to my Granny; put all my laundry away, which laundry has transmogrified from Dirty Pile to Clean Pile without significantly reducing the wreckage that is my apartment; Cook Things (I have chicken and beef to cook up for premade meals); send out invites for the Friday night beeriness (which will also encourage me to tidy in the public areas at least although the bathroom’s already clean); assemble my outfit for contradancing on Friday (it’s literally one short bus ride from here); get into work early because me covering for somebody’s lawful absence for the last week and a half has put a cinder in the eye of all of my other customers, who are sending baleful emails.  I should also get stuff ready for Conflikt but I imagine I’ll get into a frenzy of printing stuff out later.. it was odd having somebody who knows me IRL emailing me and asking if she could print out the Tapioca Song for the song book – it’s on this site and under a Creative Commons license.  Unless you are planning on turning it into an international hit children’s song (as…bloody…if…) anybody can do what they want with it, and it’s already been parodied, so nu?  Oh, and I should cancel & rebook next Friday evening’s medical appointment downtown because I’m going to be in Seattle….

Before I die I want ONE of my songs to have a goofy flash animation.  I may have to go back to school to learn how.  I’m thinking “Catnip on my Shoes” because it’s only a minute long, and cats are definitely popular with geeks.  Why?  because they are Just Barely Social Enough.  Dog owners can be easily as crazy as cat owners, but at least they have to leave the house.

Outing

I must admit it’s strange to be dating somebody who has zero tea, coffee or alcohol in his house.  If I want to drink something it’s pretty much water, with fizz and without.  As always a date with the Luddite is an adventure in a variety of ways.  This date included two delicious meals and a snack, a poetry recitation (the dog grr el of Les Barker, the Brit Shel Silverstein), one full length movie (Mae West’s delirious She Done Him Wrong); a number of Youtube videos to do with the tramways of Lodz, Poland, including one that’s extremely funny, and others that make Lodz look like the ugliest, oldest and most dirty snow-covered portions of 1970’s Toronto; much in the way of music, mostly contradance bands including Seattle’s KGB (highly recommended) and the US band Notorious, which is so supremely awesome, I’m going to have to buy two copies of it because one is going to go to Dr. Filk, and also an entire best of Grieg album; and me tricking the Luddite into watching the first 20 minutes of the most recent Pride and Prejudice because I promised him it had English country dancing in it; and we almost watched a Joe E Brown movie but it was getting late.

At 1:38 this morning (when I was snoring, quite likely) Katie texted me with the cryptic “I am sacred for myself.”  (read, scared) which of course I didn’t pick up until 11 this morning when I promptly panicked, burst into tears and called Paul.  After about 90 minutes of agony I got hold of her live and calmed down.

Yesterday I spent an arseload of money at Metrotown, as I am SICK OF MY SHOES.  Do you hear me?  SICK OF THEM.  I don’t usually care, but I wanted comfortable flats so I bought two pairs.  Also I didn’t think I had any shoes suitable for contradancing, and I’m going (may Goddess give me strength) on Friday.

Now I’ve rented the Can car and I’m back home and I’m off to put stuff back in my fridge to go bad for Katie to clear out about the time I move out.  Later….

eat drink man woman

SO I went to Maria’s restaurant on Denman last night with two coworkers and did NOTHING except talk about work.  The food was fabulous, the service was a little…. I dunno. She kinda flung stuff on the table in a remarkably inelegant fashion.

Now it’s time to go to work and talk about…. the restaurant?  Life is so recursive, and passing odd.  Thanks for the link Lady Miss B ’cause it was very funny.

I will sit right down, waiting for the gift of sound and vision

Yesterday I saw a Youtube video shot by Rob Sawyer of Neil Gaiman in a blue tech gown holding a panda.  This would not be in any way particular odd, except somebody put The Tubes’ Don’t Touch Me There as the soundtrack, which is screechingly hilarious.  And it reminds me of my first husband, who still doesn’t have internet access, ack, gargle.

Yesterday I ran across this incredible piece of inane bs.  I am posting the link only so I can imagine Debbie screeching, “Who does this guy think he is???? Maternal love only lasts 33 months???” The funny part is that some of it is fairly good, but the writing style makes me think that this dude’s not playing with a full emotional deck. Anyway, maternal love lasts as long as the oxytocin hit you get when you see your kid or hear their voice on the phone or get a letter or email from them lasts.  And that, as we mothers know, is a long time.  And if they crawl into bed with you for a nap or because they’ve had a nightmare, even if they’re 14, it makes for a feeling of emotional sweetness that is hard to beat.  This dude doesn’t get the oxytocin thing.  Too bad for him!!!  Oh, and I know that men can love longer than 42 months.  I’ve seen it.

Yesterday morning I was so angry that I wanted to kick every man I know down a flight of stairs, with the exception of Paul, Keith, John, Jeff, my dad and Jarmo – and maybe the guy who cleans my apartment building who’s an exceptionally nice man. Okay, maybe Parm at Renaissance Coffee.  Shoot… I forgot Glenn and Mike; Tom, Tom U., ack, Brian C, Jim E.  Okay, I was mad at one particular man and things were kind of spilling over…  Then a man walked up to me and said, “Do you need a hug?”  and I went “Aw!” Just think, that huggy guy doesn’t understand how much carnage he averted.  Either that or he broke the glass labelled “What to do in case Allegra’s pulling her crap again.”

Yesterday I phoned my dad and said, “They changed the laws.  It’s time.”  Actually, I told my mother that, she’s more tactful than I am.   pOp was working until his 70th birthday as a crossing guard (note, employment not exactly as shown), and he really misses it.

Yesterday I got Himalayan Peaks takeout and it was completely yummy.

Yesterday evening I got on the phone with the guy I’m so mad at, and we squared things away.  I should just quit getting mad.  It never lasts; it never accomplishes anything.

Soon I’m going to see some live theatre, which reminds me I should get off my keester and see if Kopper got tickets or whether I ought to or not.  And soon, singing on Monday nights.  Happy sigh.

I am still flashing on Ville dancing to Safety Dance on Dance Dance Revolution. He repeated it about 15 times so I’m having a hell of a time shaking it, and the little flash of Morris Dancers in the background keeps coming up as well.

I am looking at my stannomancy and thinking…. There’s a waterbird. And a leg. And a wedding (which I already knew about because Shannon and Jerome are getting married).

Cooking

Here I am cooking lunch for I don’t know how many people.  I don’t know how many because the cafeteria is closed today but there will still be people at work.  I told all my lunch buddies that I’m cooking today, but I bet they all packed lunches because, well, they’re engineering staff and they’re like that.
Anyway it’s parsnips pan fried in butter, basmati rice, an abbreviated sort of salad, and crockpot chicken thighs with basil, pepper, kashmiri red pepper, celery salt, two cloves of garlic, a bay leaf, and about a quarter teaspoon of cardamom.  The smell in here is enough to turn your salivary glands into Niagara Falls.

Now I have to figure out how to get it down the freaking hill without breaking anything.  I am not stupid, I’ll come up with something.

Heading home

I will be heading home this morning.  The break was very restful and I’m feeling a little bit more optimistic than I was when I ventured over here on Saturday.  Work will be very busy, but I’m actually looking forward to it.

I’m hoping Kopper saved me some turducken, she said there was leftovers…

Victoria

Jeff come and collected me and then kidnapped me for an ninety minutes’ worth of Robot Chicken.  Scarlett Johannson as a crazy girlfriend style GPS?  Yowza.

My mom cooked us dinner.  It was tasty and nourishing too. 

 

This morning I found out about the existence of bacon brittle.

 

I’ve been told that this should be served as a side for  the next Mars Bar Cthtulhuthon… Mmmm bacon brittle.  (added later, per Kopper’s warning do not use this recipe) 

What next, haggis?  Let us preserve decorum.  Mind you I was actually thinking of renting a bagpiper for the last time, but I thought that was over the top even for me.   

Enough of that!  The meal was turkey breast and home made stuffing and yams and salad and bread and cranberry dressing and a cauliflower cheese.  AND pie.  And ice cream.  So I have to say I am very impressed with just how much slaving over a hot stove my ma did for me today, and that maybe next Christmas I should think about getting here earlier and cooking more….

I got Hep A and Hep B shots this morning and I feel weird – oh shut up, weirder than normal.  Mind you my consciousness has been a variable and vinegary brew this past few weeks, with a couple of very nice breaks….  Pause to smile and look off into the middle distance with my head tilted to one side. I did manage to make some very nice memories in the last week.

Keith is still here.  It is so good to see him.