They’re Gone. And so is the Wine…

Tom's gone back to university...

Tom’s gone back to university…

Warning: The following post does not contain flashing images, violence, strong sex scenes or offensive language. However, readers of an alcoholic nature could still find it distressing, especially if they may have teenage children one day.

Yep, they’re gone.

Tom went back to university on Wednesday – just the 400 mile round trip to keep me amused – and Jane took Jessica on Saturday. I stayed at home and loaded empties into the recycling bin. Thank the Lord we don’t have to go to the bottle bank any more. The humiliation would have been too much.

So there’s no wine left. The wine rack – despite regular reinforcements – fought a valiant rearguard action, but in the end it was simply overwhelmed. [Read more…]

Talking Turkey

“You need to blog about it,” I said to my client.

“Don’t have time,” he said. “Besides, I can’t write very well.”

“OK, I’ll do it for you.”

“How much?”

I told him. “Too much,” he said.

I sighed. “I want your site to be as good as it can be. People would be really interested in this. You need to write about it.”

He shrugged. “Look,” I said, throwing the ‘how to negotiate’ book out of the window, “I’ll write it. And I’ll take one as payment…” [Read more…]

A Right Hash…

It started with the Shepherd’s Pie. All downhill from there…

Let’s be honest. Anyone can cook Shepherd’s Pie. It’s not difficult. We’re not in twice-baked soufflé territory.

So how did I make such a complete cock-up? How did I get it so disastrously wrong? So wrong that even the dog had second thoughts…

Simple.

Jessica was watching me.

Home from university for the weekend, the Beloved Daughter was lounging in the kitchen. She has a new expression. It roughly translates as, ‘When I knew nothing about cooking I thought you were quite competent. Now I can knock up a Sunday roast while simultaneously writing a 2,000 word essay I realise you’re – frankly – pathetic.’ [Read more…]

Dining on Lemons

How to describe my wife’s face?

Carefully, obviously.

But pert, pretty, provocative. All of those. And one other…

“Blimey,” I said lovingly, “You look like a bulldog chewing a wasp.”

“No, I don’t,” she replied, “I look like a woman being forced to eat a lemon. Which is exactly what I am doing.”

“Yeah, Dad…”

My sons joined in enthusiastically. Once their pained expressions had returned to normal. [Read more…]

Gin and Scotch Eggs

Ben is 16. It naturally follows that he’s been buying his Mother gin for the last five years.

Birthdays, Christmas, our youngest son has never failed to deliver a litre bottle of Gordon’s. (And a large Toblerone: she has many vices…) But as his 17th birthday approached it seemed appropriate that he should go the extra mile. No, not follow in his sister’s footsteps and get a fake ID. Learn to make his Mum a G&T.

“Come on, Ben,” I said as I cheerfully covered myself in sausage meat en route to homemade Scotch Eggs, “Time to learn one of life’s essential skills.” [Read more…]