“I am the world’s biggest klutz, and the Deities choose to reward me for gamely accepting this burden by making my ankles and knees wibbly-wobbly as well.”
“You know how some minor aches and pains feel good in that you feel alive when you stress the affected area? I used to think that.”
We have our showers in a bathtub — there weren’t too many shower enclosures in the 1920s when the house we live in was built. Last night, my ankle decided to stop working as I was getting out of the bath, causing the rest of my body to collapse downwards while halfway over the lip of the bathtub. If I was a boy that would have been unimaginably sore, but I’m a girl so that would have just been really sore. Luckily for me this time, I was alert enough to quickly (fast as freaking lightning, considering the circumstances) bring my other leg out of the bath and prevent myself from falling in a heap. Knowing my luck, I should have brought the shower curtain down with me, too. Fate’s probably reserved that for me for when I least expect it.
If I was one of those people who are willing to LifeCast, I’m sure it would be mostly seriously boring (how long can one stare at a computer screen, how long can one stare a a computer screen via a webcam?), but punctuated with moments of sheer hilarity when you follow me as I fall down in public.
I didn’t realise hearing about or deciding you want a book is such an unbearable feeling that one must buy it immediately — via text. Amazon Lets Readers Shop via Text Message:
Once a customer has set up their Amazon account to accept TextBuyIt purchases, the process is relatively quick and easy. And for customers who aren’t near a computer when they want to purchase a book, but do have their cell phones handy, TextBuyIt offers a convenient way to shop.
Erm, you could also wait till you are near a computer, or, shock horror whoda thunk, go to a bookstore. Amazon continues to cultivate the population’s slavish addiction to immediate gratification.
(Which, I reckon, doesn’t work so well with books.)
One unintended consequence of our rather thrifty lives here in Scotland is Neil and I now have a (small) repertoire of meals we cook from (practically) fresh. Aside from the occasional pizza from the supermarket chiller, and our moments of takeaway laziness, I’ve actually discovered that (letting Neil do the) cooking (while I find the recipes and do the chopping and slicing, except when the galangal is too tough and Neil has to do it too) can be quite satisfying.
We did a pretty good minestrone last Sunday — the recipe is completely vegetarian, and we are totally going to add some smoked pork sausage to up the dead animal flavour factor. I like vegetarian (they clear out the bowels, vegetarians do), but ye cannae beat the meat (torturously bad pun completely intended). Apparently, it was absolutely the best ever minestrone bar none that Neil’s sister has ever ever had in her entire existence (via Neil’s mother — who’s exaggerating here?).
Our carbonara, sadly, needs something more; more smoked sausage and cheddar, perhaps. It was a wee bit bland, although it fooled us by smelling very much like a yummy carbonara. Tricksy carbonara. When I was a kid I adored pasta alfredo in a packet, it was pretty much the only thing I’d heat on the stove (if it ain’t microwaveable, it had better be better than Campbell’s New England Clam Chowder, that was my mantra).
So, what can we do so far? Beef noodles, tom yam soup, tom kha gai, minestrone, various pastas and sauces, corned beef fried rice, ceviche (not really cooking as it doesn’t involve heat, so I can handle it), various stir-fried vegetables, grilled steak. To the more culinary among you, this may seem like complete bullshit, where’s the challenge, where’s the Masterchef-quality cuisine? Well, I couldn’t even boil an egg six months ago (I’m so sad that I had to look it up on the Internet, do you remember), so this is the serialdeviant.org(y) equivalent of John Torode and Greg Wallace telling me (after the requisite 20-second pause) I’ve won.