So This Is Christmas

Given that HR was working Christmas day and beyond, and The Mini Brat was in Germany, I decided to spend Christmas with HR where he lives.
Using my frequent flyer points I booked and boarded a plane.
The main dilemma here was always going to be what to create for Christmas Lunch. I had several ideas and after wasting my time and energy asking HR what he would like (whatever  you thinks best Dear is his stock standard answer, man refuses to make a decision) I decided that a Watermelon and Prawn Salad, Morton Bay Bugs in Dijon Sauce, Ham, Cheeses and sundry salads would be an appropriate repast (ever notice how difficult it is to cut down the amount of food you prepare when the kids are gone?).
Left over prawns would be made into garlic prawns and one must always have too much ham for the obligatory ham and eggs on Boxing Day.
I warned HR that we would go shopping for comestibles as soon as he picked me up from the airport and he dutifully chauffeured me to the appropriate stores. Thank fully we were unable to get the Bugs.
We lumbered up the stairs to HR's apartment laden with groceries and suitcases (I DO travel light... sometimes) and while I put stuff away HR made the cuppas (what else are men good for? nuffin!!!).

Christmas Eve was a busy day. We toddled off to the Crematorium, taking some lovely pink Carnations to lay on my Father's resting spot. It's always calming sitting beside the Golden Carp infested water ways and communing with Dad ( most of my comms with Dad are had at a hectic pace whilst driving long distances to get to sporting events). Then we went to my Brother's place, talk about from the sublime to the ridiculous!

The best that can be said about my Brother is that he is eccentric. I always say to HR that we're only staying an hour and then whoooshka three hours later......he can be an interesting bloke and this time we had some robust discussions on politics and religion, go figure.

After a nice dinner, and bemoaning the fact there was no Big Bash Cricket on, we watched some NCIS and retired. HR had to start work at 0600 Christmas Day.
Barely an hour had passed when the stomach cramps started. The pain was akin to the contractions one has when giving birth. Not long after that the inevitable nausea and diarrhoea started and there went the whole Christmas ball game.
I managed not to disturb HR and wandered aimlessly about the lounge room (with quick dashes to the loo every 20 minutes or so). Suffice to say I was a very sore and sorry camper!!! I did not have any medication with me whatsoever.
HR went to work and I suffered the rest of the day BUT we managed to find a Chemist open and HR secured the magic concoctions to save me!

Needless to say there was no Christmas dinner for anyone, I think HR had toast. There was no way I was preparing any food at all until I was totally cured!!! Boxing Day was spent finsing the fixings for some very bland home made fried rice.

Ah well........

Another One Bites The Dust

I think this is the last lost tradition post for 2015 and I have saved the big one for last.

This year, for the first time in 27 Years (yes the Normal Autistic Girl ,Kezz, is 27) I will not have my children with me for Christmas.
I am not sure how I feel about this.
I am not responsible for this.
HR started the demise of this tradition by agreeing to work Christmas Day (remember HR works in another state) and in all good conscience I couldn't let him fend for himself on a day that is about family.
The Mini Brat compounded the deal by announcing she was going to Germany for Christmas (alas it has not snowed so she may not get the white Christmas she was hoping for).
Further complicating it all is the fact that for the first time in 15 years I will not be seeing The Dragon Lady (my Mother) for Christmas.
The Normal Autistic one will pick up the slack and go and see her Nana on Christmas day and then she will go and see The Boy Child, his Consort (the saint in making) and my gorgeous Grand Sons.

So, a tradition that has lasted as long as my parenthood is now broken. No mad rush to clean the house before The Dragon Lady comes for lunch, no mad rush to shop for the perfect foods to serve, no mad rush to buy and wrap appropriate presents and place them just so around the tree, no wondering where the hell the kids are, those who have had to travel to be with us,no wondering will HR get back from his parent's place in time to go and pick The Dragon Lady up.

No more will we fear the annual critique of the gardens ,we bought the house off The Dragon Lady and once a year she visits, Christmas, and criticises (not always constructively) the gardens and any 'improvements' we have made to the house.

Last year the Consort was suffering food poisoning, so we thought, seems she was pregnant!!

So this year it will be just HR and I.
I am not sure how I feel about this.

Ch Ch Ch Changes

For the last seven years I have worked with a team of five. For four and a bit years I have been the 'boss'. There's been some changes over the years, people have come and gone but there was always me and Grasshopper.
Grasshopper and I have had an interesting relationship over the time and only last year she shocked me by telling me she identified as Indigenous (it's not half obvious really). We got a lot of mileage out of that, people never know when to take us seriously. We have always dressed 'corporate' in black suits and heels. We have been referred to as 'the mafia'. Some people think they're funny.

Anyway, Grasshopper and I have a tradition (here we go again) of 'decorating' our work space in some sort of theme. The other members of the team have always been happy to go along and we always as for their input but they leave it to us.
Over the years we've had a Zen garden, Ayers Rock/Uluru, and some of the more recent ones are shown here:
Christmas 2014

 Christmas 2015

 The Bazaar 2015

 

The Owl and the Pussy Cat 2014

We have had a lot of fun putting these together and dealing with some of the more silly comments from the rest of the building's inhabitants as they walk past or through our little section. Some people think they're funny and make dumb comment, some people have said what a great thing we do and they love to see what we will do next, some people contribute small things to the theme. No matter what the contribution, we have achieved what we set out to do.... create a space where people feel free to be themselves whatever that is, to get people talking and involved in some way.

Grasshopper has gone and gotten herself a job in another state. Now there is only me left and 'they' have decided, in their infinite fricken wisdom, that I am  to be incorporated into another unit.
No more themes ... another tradition is gone....All the very best of wishes to you Grasshopper!!!

Its the End of the World as We Know It

Here at The Mausoleum we have several traditions that are about to hit the dirt. (The Mausoleum is in the process of size reduction and eventual move to Brisvegas)

The first tradition to go is the Manager Finance (MF) BBQ-ing every day for the last two weeks of December. During the year we have a welfare club that provides snags (sausages) every Tuesday and Thursday, and bacon and egg burgers every pay day (fortnightly). The welfare club ceases this activity (due to most people being on holidays) the second week of December. MF bravely steps in and provides us with all manner of bbqed delicacies from chicken skewers to bacon and egg burgers and a lot in between. He sends an email every morning to apprise us of the day’s offerings and then off he goes at 0930 to light the barbie!

But now, alas, the MF has chosen to leave us! There was a collective groan throughout The Mausoleum at the announcement. Who will cook for us next year? What will we do without the delicious little morsels to look forward to on otherwise boring days? MF saves us all in these last few working days and next year he won’t be here…….

To the Manager Finance I offer my heartfelt thanks for the years of service to the tongs, and wish you every happiness and success in whatever you do in your future!!!

The second tradition is the Punters Club (PC). The PC has existed time out of mind and is/was a bunch of like minded people who liked to take a chance with Lady Luck on the horses, dogs, keno, lotto, two flies crawling up a wall, you get the picture! Now, one of the mainstays of this club, DD, has decided retirement is the go and thus the club will disband after March next year (Hagalicious can’t go on without DD apparently). Never again will we gloat or bemoan the weekends tipping and check the spreadsheets to see who has won the most. Never again will we sit, as a club, in the Legends Room at Clifford Park Raceway on our special yearly break up day. 

Enjoy your retirement DD!!!!

The third tradition is the Christmas Pub Crawl (CPC). Every year, Management (yes that means me), puts on a Chicken and Champagne breakfast for our staff to say Thank You  for making us look good all year. The CPC takes place after the Chicken and Champagne. Designated Drivers ferry the festive folk to the nominated starting pub and the crawl begins! We sample most of the 'in' pubs playing pool and cranking up the juke box singing along to the tunes. Sadly there will be one last hurrah and then no more. To the stalwarts who are there every year, thank you for your company SALUTE!!!

There are a few other traditions that are coming to an end and I will blog about them separately over the coming days. It has been said that 'change is goodness' I'm not convinced.....

Sweet Dreams Are Made of Cheese (parody)

I am partial to the odd piece of cheese. I like ALL kinds of cheese from a nice Camembert to a strong Blue Vein and everything in between. I especially like the Blue Vein in a sauce on a medium rare steak...but that's another story.

Today I feel constrained to blog about a cheese I have been nibbling over the last week: Mainland Smoked Cheddar. 'A smokey flavoured cheddar that's warm and cheery like an open fire' is he blurb on the packaging. It lives up to its name! A lovely tasty, smokey, slightly crumbly, cheddar that tantalises the taste buds and goes with anything!

Just now I had some cold roast chicken, salami, cherries, apricots and the delicious smoked cheddar for a light evening repast. The cheese doesn't overwhelm the taste of its culinary companions but niether is it lost in their various flavours - it holds its own in any company.

There are occasions when a biscuit is needed with one's cheese and with this little beauty I match it with a multigrain Salada and a sweet white wine, Brown Brother's Moscato, is my preferred tipple. Yes yes I am told red wine is served with cheese but.....as I always point out...I am not a food connoisseur I just eat and drink what I like.

Sometimes I have been known to wrap the delicious morsels of smokey cheddar goodness in a slice of salami as a quick pick me up snack!
 
Now if HR were here to assist me in the consumption of said cheese, he'd be looking for some olives and cellery! And of course we would argue about what kind of olives!



 So all in all this Mainland Smoked Cheddar is a tasty versatile cheese that I will be looking for again when I hit the shops!!!

Baby you can drive my car

Cars have naff all to do with food I hear you say, and you're quite right but...cars are a necessary evil in getting one to and from restaurants and grocery stores hence this post.

Once upon a time I owned a gorgeously cheeky little Kia Cerato Koup, I loved that car and we had many good times together.

Then HR (the husband, remember?) decided he wanted to exchange his crappy piece of Euro Trash Mondeo for a Mazda BT 50 (The BT). My little Kia was sacrificed on the altar of his masculine stupidity (I'll stop sobbing momentarily) and I inherited my first piece of Euro Trash.

 Next thing is The Boy Child is living 50 mins away from work and his piece of shit Holden Commodore (hereafter referred to as The Crummy) was costing him a fortune in fuel, maybe he could use the Mondeo (diesel is cheaper and more economical apparently) and I could use The Crummy. Well the big problem there is that I will NEVER willingly drive a Holden.

So we have a conundrum! BUT the Normal Autistic Girl lives in Brisvegas and uses public transport so her car (Tenny the Veloster) is in an advanced state of disuse, perhaps Mother could use that? Well yes but it is unregistered and some bastard has side swiped it and driven off so........

Anyway, long story short, Tenny got registered and repaired and came to live with me for ten months.
Keeping up are we?
So, the Normal Autistic Girl suddenly needs her car back!! More than a conundrum here, we have a fricken DILEMMA!! What will Mother drive? How will she get from here to there and to her many food sources?
Check the classified boards at work!! Genius right? Mebbe.

There's a car for sale (more Euro Trash). An Audi, going cheap, but in good condition. Hmm I think to myself let's be looking at this then. Long story short, again, I bought said Audi, bargain yeah? Mebbe.

The Audi passed a roadworthy and has new tyres and is generally ready to rock (The Mini Brat Lurvs the Audi and wants it when I get my new Kia). Let's take Tenny back to Brisvegas!

I drive the Audi, the Mini Brat drives Tenny ( a story in itself but not right now). It's raining all the way there. We meet the Normal Autistic Girl at Macca's near the Gabba, give her her car and the Mini Brat and I start the drive back (forgetting to get my house keys off Tenny's keyring...we had to climb in a window when we got home).

Merrily driving along and fielding abuse from the Mini Brat, seems my attempt to be considerate by not speeding along on the way TO Brisvegas annoyed her (she was following me), we lost a little traction on a wet, rough bit of road near Buranda shopping centre. No Biggy, corrected and motored on. Except that suddenly I have no oomph in the accelerator, and if I try to speed up the car bucks like a Bronco!!! What the hell, have I bought a lemon????? Will I get back up the Range? will we get home in time for the Mini Brat to get her nails done?? Sounds like some kind of melodrama right?

I was right to be concerned about the Range. Oh dear. It was embarassing and humiliating and I found out JUST how much the MiniBrat is like her Father (HR). She huffed, she puffed she was downright fricken annoying whilst I tried to baby this piece of EuroTrash up the hill!!
Four times it stalled going up the hill and just because we were at the top didn't seem to make a difference. We must have stalled through at least three sets of lights ( yeah thanks to the dickheads who tooted in annoyance even though we had hazzard lights flashing and all cos like we weren't embarassed enough you know?). We finally made it home. My nerves were shot, the Mini Brat made her appointment so, you know, everything worked out yeah.
I rang HR. HR rang the Audi dealers. The Audi dealers inform HR of something called 'Limp Mode'.
Apparently the Audi has all these sensors everywhere and if somethng is off the car will go into the 'Limp Mode' to protect the car. You have enough power to get the vehicle to a garage apparently.

WHY WASN'T I TOLD????????????

SO, I will get the Audi to the mechanic on Monday and then hopefully I can get back to driving to wherever it is I need to drive.........In PEACE!!!!!