Where does the time go?
Where does the time go?
Home in The Village; Baby Peppercorn far, far away. Tired from our cross country journey and quite positive I won’t see the New Year in, well, not consciously anyway!
We had a blessed three weeks with our new grandchild. I was to babysit Petite Fille tonight, but that family came down with sore throats and so cancelled their plans. I shall have to wait to see my “big girl” for another few days.
I returned home to Son who had done a few handyman jobs around the house, and sorted through some kitchen drawers and cupboards to tidy them as a Christmas gift to Mr FD and I. I couldn’t have asked for anything nicer! Our aim is for a simpler life in 2016, as I am sure many are hoping and wishing for as well, so Son’s efforts have been both a gift and a motivation. Tomorrow, tomorrow.
Poor Mr FD was almost strip searched again. Since his knee replacement, he appears to have become a target. I was always the one who was pulled aside for a wanding previously; because mature, grey haired, angle saxon women are sure terrorists. However, now he seems to be their target, despite wearing shorts and parading his knee scar! They had him take his runners and socks off as well.
When we were sitting on the plane, Mr FD made the comment that it was a wonder that they didn’t search his shoe heels for bombs, and I shushed him. Seconds later a little old lady from behind us tottered up the aisle towards the cabin crew and I was sure she was reporting him, but no one ran down to thrown him into the aisle and bind him with plastic ties. No surprise to anyone that Mr FD has the penchant for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.
He also tried to use earphones to listen to music on his iPhone or iPad and didn’t connect properly so three seat rows around us got treated to Mark Knofler as well. I signed to him that I could hear the music and he discussed the issue with me in a loud voice until I ripped the earphones from his ears. Well, I thought it was the earphones he seemed to speak loudly ALL THE TIME.
We had a middle and aisle seat, but no one claimed the window seat, so I slid over and pretended I knew him not. I don’t think I fooled anyone, least of all me.
Does anyone else find airline food extremely salty? Son-in-law the food technologist explained some time ago that salt and sugar get added altenatively until the “flavour” is achieved. Since trying to reduce salt and sugar, I notice the salt in processed foods more and more. I guess the positive is a lessening desire for “bad” food. Notice, I said, lessening, not non-existent!
Son-in-law the engineer, Peppercorn’s Dad, is a man of his own heart. He does not view that a man’s barbecue as equal to the size of his penis. (Should I be discussing my SIL’s penis in public? Or private for that matter!Smallish pun. Ooops double entendre pun!) Anyway his manhood is not invested in the size, or brand of his barbecue.
Hence this is his barbecue:
And this is what he cooked for us last night – included marinated steak, chorizo and nectarine for a start.
One night he created a delicious rolled roast, another night spare ribs to die for. More than a hidden talent! Both our son in laws are superb cooks – we are blessed. Or at least our stomachs are!
The young men in our family are gifts. We won’t speak of the “old” men.
More to share with you, but tomorrow is another year and soon enough. To sleep perchance to dream…