A WHOLE LOT OF NOTHING GOING ON!

I am not entirely sure what happened to this week.  It just sort of disappeared!  

Monday morning started abruptly and was rather cool.  I had wanted to have a neighbours' get together the weekend before the holidays, and decided to host a 'high-tea' rather than supper, with small sandwiches and cakes.  However, we were expecting a guest on Friday night who was going to stay until Sunday morning and this would mean two weekends of moderate disruption.  I chose to fore go the former.  I could do a 'Christmas in January' soiree.  A much better option considering all I had to accomplish before the new year!

My 'accomplishments' would probably get little further than a few lists, and Monday morning came around with little done over the weekend.  My choice of dressed was mocked by my daughter.  "You going to work?" she said, with a glint in her eye.  I had put on a sleeveless woolen dress, with a roll neck jumper underneath, which she said looked like a school uniform, and then pulled up my new 'over the knee boots', which had a thick silver heal with indents.  I could have passed (attire-wise only - I am under no illusion) as a sixties model, perhaps a Mary Quant wannabe (I always wanted to be a Mary Quant model!) I was also under no illusion as to what my daughter meant!  

The day was quite uneventful. There were a couple of emergencies, we went for a walk at lunchtime, and the afternoon was much busier than the morning.  It was a regular day that came to an end with nothing to set it apart from any other day.  I received a proportionate amount of 'spam' phone calls, and emails.  

Dana and I decided to go the the local Indian Buffet for dinner.  I was not excessively hungry but had not taken anything out of the freezer, and had a hankering for something with a 'bite', and Indian food seemed to fit the bill.  We entered the establishment and were quite surprised to see that the usual flamboyant waiter was dressed quite conservatively, in a plain shirt and dark regular fitting trousers.  I would assume (perhaps I am wrong) that the young man was not acquainted with the iconic designer, Quant, nor her recommendation that people should 'dress to please themselves', but that he does.  His options are usually rather loud, but always superbly coordinated.  Last time we frequented the establishment, he was wearing a very tight pair of green trousers, a red shirt with matching coloured shoes, and a green tie.  It gave 'Christmas in July' a whole new meaning!  However, despite the lack of colour, he was still superbly coordinated!  We ate and enjoyed and as we left, the young man approached me.  "Very nice", he said.  "Yes, it was delicious", I said.  He looked a little confused, and then acknowledged my misunderstanding.  "No.  You.  Very....it is elegant. You look most elegant.  Very nice".  I thanked him and let him know that I appreciated his comment.  "It was those stripper boots", said my husband, stepping out of his comfort zone with an almost lurid suggestion!  "That's what Samantha calls them", he said, attempting to quell his guilt.  I found it all quite amusing.  I reminded him that the phrase was coined by Samantha's friend, Jodi, who had insisted, "You must get those stripper boots...you can totally 'pull off that look'.  I don't know that I would have ever said such a thing to any of my mother's friends!  However, I took it as a compliment that she had felt so comfortable to say it!  Again, I digress, with a pleasant walk down memory lane!

"Does he like the boots, the school uniform or both?" asked my daughter, still mocking.  "Just the coordination and elegance.  Thank you, Mary Quant!"  The moment of silence was followed by, "Who?"  I responded.  "No that was Dr.  Same decade though".  Samantha decided to concede.  

In retrospect, Monday did have a modicum of diversity.  Tuesday did not.  I was late into work on Tuesday.  Once again, banana bread was the culprit.  I have taken on the challenge, set by me, and judged by me, (so not much of a challenge; more of a personal goal,) to create the perfect loaf!  Chipotle chocolate was this weeks recipe, and I was confident that I had all the ingredients necessary to achieve this self-proclaimed masterpiece!  At the same time (because I now have a 'double oven') I could make some mince pies and fruit pies.  Using my new pan meant forty eight mini-pies, which is a lot of pastry 'rolling'.  I told myself that I needed to 'practice' for my 'high-tea', but I knew that I was merely providing more food for the office, and more work for myself!  Questions ensued.  "Why is it called mincemeat?"  Explanations of traditional English fayre is always a challenge (more of a challenge than chipotle chocolate banana bread) as the language barrier prevents an understanding.  It was the 'biscuits and gravy' idiom all over again.  To a Brit, this means shortbread and 'Bisto'; cookies with brown gravy!  To an American it means a scone like muffin and a thick white sauce with sausage.  Mincemeat?  It is taken from a traditional medieval recipe, that included meat, probably sausage.  Sausage meat is not quite the same here as it is 'over there', and the thought of putting fruit into salami, or a 'Jimmy Dean' breakfast meat is not particularly delectable.  However, I did try!  Perhaps Tuesday was not as mundane as I (don't) remember!  

The chipotle chocolate banana bread did not last very long.  It was eaten rather quickly, although I did manage to save a piece to take to Joe on Wednesday.  With coffee bought, and nails painted with snowflakes on a blue background, I was ready to take on all that could be thrown at me.  My plan to create an Italian based spread, had changed to a cowboy's feast.  Instead of chicken Parmesan, with pasta, I decided to embrace my surroundings and forget the mincemeat and Mary Quant, (sorry Mary,) and 'go west-ern'!  Barbecue chicken with fantail potatoes, beans (black beans with a variety of extras)  and cornbread.  I felt as if I had somehow been like the wild horse, and been (ever so slightly) broken-in.  Instead of mourning the inevitable, I enjoyed the praise!  Dinner was a great success, as was the apple pie!  I told everyone in attendance not to get too used to the 'new me', as I would never give up the idea of becoming a Mary Quant model, (Mary who?  No, that was the Doctor!) and I hope to continue making mince pies, but every so often I can make an effort!


It appears that Wednesday was also not as humdrum as at first thought.  However, as there was no post on Wednesday, due to a 'national day of mourning', Thursday's portion was rather overwhelming!  Nothing much happened on Thursday.  At least I do not remember much happening on Thursday.  Apart from a lemon cake!  Bringing England over here, through culinary delights, brings a strange sense of comfort to me.  I thought I would prepare some 'tidbits' for my weekend guest. 

"We might not be having a guest this weekend", said Dana, when I told him that I had prepared some fancy tasties for the occasion.  Apart from cooking the citrus delicacy, I had spent my pre-work time moving things around to make the spare room 'visitor worthy', and made sure everything was clean and tidy.  My guest, one of my husband's friends, and an old neighbour of ours, is rather fastidious, and is very direct.  I would not take offense if he mentioned that he had found a speck of dust, but I knew he would not hesitate to tell me.  He is who he is!  However, I took it as a challenge.  

Thursday was not as mundane as first remembered, but Friday was heading in quickly.  It was raining.  It was pouring.  Snoring could not be heard but the wind roared.  Work was quiet until mid afternoon, and then the flood gates opened!  As the rain became more torrential, so did the workload.  Just when I thought I could catch up and go home at a reasonable hour!  However, it was probably the most uneventful day of the week.  It really was probably the most uneventful day of the week. Yes, it was!

Saturday started reasonably early.  Sandra, Samantha's neighbour, had invited me, along with my daughter and son-in-law, to her daughter's fifth birthday party.  I am sure my husband would have been welcome, but she did not 'put him on the spot'.  We shopped and ate far too many dessert samples at Costco before heading to the hall where the party was to take place.  It was rather cold.  Although Mary Quant may have approved of my 'dressing for myself', I do not think it was 'traditional Quant'.  Jeans, sweater and boots with a stetson is how I roll on a cold day!  We entered the hall and immediately Sandra's daughter came running up to my daughter for a hug.  Everyone's favourite is my Samantha!  Sandra introduced us to her parents.  "This is Tracie, Samantha's mum", she said to her mother.  "Esther?" said her mother. "No, Tracie", I said, still shaking her hand. "Esther!" she said again.  "Tracie", said I.  "Esther", she said for a third time.  It was then I realised that she was telling me her name!  I felt as if my guest had found a speck of dust in my spare room!  

We asked what needed to be done, and if help was needed, and set to! Although there were cups on the counter, no one appeared to venture forth.  "Are there any trays?" said my resourceful daughter. We poured iced tea and lemonade (separately) into the cups and offered them around.   We did the same with the birthday cake.  "Bet you didn't expect silver service with English waitresses, did you?"  I said to Sandra.  She just laughed and told us we were doing a great job! The children appeared to be happy playing, but Sandra  appeared with some paints and shells.  I could definitely help with this!  I am not sure who enjoyed the activity more!  I had such fun!  At the end of the party, I helped clear away wrapping paper, plates and cups and would have stayed to help with the overall clearing away had Samantha not been going on to another party.  I bid farewell to Sandra's mum, and then went to say cheerio to her father.  He was talking to an other older man, who introduced himself to me.  In turn, I introduced myself.  "Great job you did here.  Thank you for your service.  It was much appreciated.  You did really well".  I thanked him for his appreciation and went to find the hostess. "Who is that man?" I asked.  It was her father-in-law.  "He thinks I am the hired help", I said, laughing as I found it highly amusing.  Sandra said she would 'set him straight', but I told her to make sure he knew I thought it was very funny as I did not want him to experience the 'speck of dust' idiom!

I returned home, and Dana and I watched 'Army' beat 'Navy' in their 'grudge' football match.  'Army' won, which pleased my husband, who had, in his youth, received a 'presidential nomination' to the college.  (Apparently, two students from each state receive a 'presidential nomination' each year!  I am going to fly on his coat tails!)  

For a week that was really unmemorable, I think I have managed to 'remember' quite a bit!  I am not sure what is in store for next week, but then I never really know how things will 'pan out'.  I think that there is a very, very strong probability that I will not be contacted by the Mary Quant group of companies, to become a model, nor am I expecting to receive an offer of any kind!  I think that there is a very, very strong probability that I will not be invited to take part in a 'southern cooking bake-off', or a 'bake off' of any kind.  However, there is a very, very strong probability that I will remember next week, and somehow manage to create ......... another story!