shiny blogging nonsense

The phone rings, I answer 'hello', turning off the vacuum cleaner. 'what are you up to?' 'hoovering' 'how was dinner last night?' 'good, really good' 'what'd you get up today?' 'nothing much, took it easy, did the housework, you?' 'the same, and watched the rugby' 'I didn't watch the rugby' *stunned silence* 'I'm not that into the rugby' 'so what did you do today?' 'housework! grocery shopping, laundry, hoovering..!' 'you'd never be done' 'how long does it take to cook a chicken, an hour and a half?' 'no, two hours' 'I thought last time you said an hour and a half..? an hour covered and a half an hour uncovered?' 'I never said anything about covered and uncovered! two hours at 200!' '200? mine's a fan oven?' 'so is mine, put it on for an hour covered with tin foil, then take off the tin foil for the l...

Just making it in before the month and year end, with not much to say.  Christmas was good, though somewhat of a whirlwind. Staying in my parents', eating in my aunt's, driving west to my Mum's family and then on to his, before making it back home again. I ate plenty, I drank enough, I got some of the best presents ever; beautiful earrings, cookery lessons, DVDs, books (including the new Rachel Allen, hurrah!), masses of chocolate and a bottle of Prosecco!  So we're back home and the tree still smells amazing, even through a full and fuzzy head of cold. A great excuse, if one were needed, to stay in this evening. New Year's Eve has always been somewhere between not important and painful to me, after spending many years with no one to kiss at midnight and generally hating forced enjoyment. Paying in, queueing, standing, urgh.  Last year, our first New Year's together, we stayed in, eating picky food from M&S and drinking bubbles. This year I have some of...

Christmas! I’m very excited. I know, I know, it’s only November. Keep calm and wait till December. I can’t help it though, I’m excited. I accidentally started Christmas shopping a few weeks ago, when in Kildare village with my Mum. I put the few things I bought away and forgot about them, but over the last couple of day I officially started, though again somewhat accidentally. You see, November is a busy enough month for me present wise, so I’ve spent some time in the shops. Each week I have a very important person’s birthday. One of my very best friends; followed by my godson, then my mother and then himself. Last year was our First His Birthday, only two months into our relationship, and I was nervous. This year I’m less nervous, and have been making notes, thinking, looking and consulting with friends for the last while. With his birthday and Christmas a mere 25 days apart I’ve had to think smart, make lists and warn him not to buy anything until January. So I’ve spen...

Sniffle snuffle. Cough and splutter. I have a cold. Not a life threatening or life altering thing, just annoying. First a sore throat, then an earache, followed by a headache. It moved down into my chest, leaving me feeling like a small (but heavy) child was sitting on me. Eventually, at 3.45am Saturday morning, it started to clear, amongst painful coughs and child-like tears of frustration at not being able to cough or sleep. Three days later and it has taken over my senses, of smell, and taste. They say you can't get the same cold twice. I didn't realise they meant you couldn't get the same cold two days in a row. A magical travelling circus of a cold, currently residing in the nasal passages. For one day only, I hope! I fear it may be heading north for a grande finale of headachey proportions. But oh, to breathe normally again! To be able to walk for more than 15 minutes at a time, or run up stairs.  Boring you, am I? Imagine how I bloody feel. Big grumpy s...

No really, there isn't.  Work, gym, spending time with himself, Croke Park, MasterChef, Family Guy, cooking, cleaning, eating, drinking, sleeping. That's about it really for the last month. And now I have a cold! Stupid.  

Growing up in my house there were two kinds of football. Football and soccer. No, before anyone starts, we’re not American. We’re Irish. My Mum’s from the hurling side of a Gaelic county and my Dad grew up in Dublin, in a cul de sac full of second generation Dubs like himself, influenced by their culchie parents’ love of the GAA. That said, my mother somewhere along the lines, whether through a love of Kevin Moran, Denis Irwin or the colour red, became an avid Manchester United fan. I’ve often said she would watch the Paraguayan tiddly winks championship, if there was such a thing, so I suppose she had to pick someone to shout for.  My Dad, however, only really watches sport when he’s working at it, and only vaguely supports Sunderland because Niall Quinn’s a nice bloke.  Still though, to save confusion football meant Gaelic football and when talking about the other football, at least until after September, we generally said soccer. Then I went and met a f...

It was a great way to end what was, without a doubt, the best two weeks’ annual leave I’ve ever taken.    On Monday, the Bank Holiday I almost forgot, I met three of my longest serving friends for lunch. At 1pm we met and ordered various combinations of breakfast, lunch and brunch, depending on how long it was since we’d left the bed. Though oddly, the one who was up most recently ordered a burger. I decided on brunch as you’re allowed, if not obliged, to have a drink with it. Some confusion over the drinks order resulted in a very welcome glass of prosecco followed by a bottle of red wine. The bottle was swallowed in no time and dessert and coffees quickly stepped in to fill the void. We decided to go back to my place for another bottle of wine, stopping in Superquinn to buy some crisps, cheese and goodies for later on, just in case.  We arrived and the crisps and jellies were immediately opened as was a bottle of wine, which was poured out into three glas...