Happy New year!

Phew. The season to be jolly is almost over and a new year is about to spring upon us. This Christmas was a messy one. Cheeky Essex boy Jamie Oilver advised us all to shred our spouts and fry them to make a nice change on Christmas Day. The preparation I did, sober shredding in the MagiMix. Cooking them however, several hours later, wasn't as easy as he made it seem. With Vodka and Cranberry goggles blinding me, I am not sure how many shredded spouts made it onto plates. All I do know is that almost 5 days later, I am finding shredded sprouts everywhere. In cupboards, on light fittings, stuck on walls, in my hair - one shred even turned up in the kettle. I am guessing that I was a little too energetic with my stirring of the shredded sprouts. Next year the spouts will be served whole and boiled for hours.

I wish everyone a very happy new year from the kitchen sink. If you are struggling to come up with some New Year's Resolutions, maybe you'll get some ideas from mine. 

No More Knitted Food in 2012

Having joined WeightWatchers in November, in 2012 I shall try my best to remember the mantra that we are taught each week. It is meant to be simple for people like me to keep in mind. Our leader says it each week "MOVE MORE, EAT LESS".  But over Christmas, I got lost in the confusion of wrapping paper, Quality Street, Vodka home brew and Cadbury's chocolate fingers. Try as I might, I couldn't remember the mantra and got it all wrong during the festive season with 

"DRINK MORE MOVE LESS"

"EAT MORE DRINK LESS"

"DRINK LESS DRINK MORE"

"EAT MORE DRINK MORE"

"EAT MORE MOVE LESS"

My wish for 2012 is that the leader of out local branch of WeightWatchers doesn't bring out the tray of knitted cakes again like she did back in November. She offered us knitted black forest gateau, knitted cup cake, knitted Battenburg slice with the cheery "Not one calorie in any of them, tuck in". There again I might just attempt to knit a full Sunday Roast in 2012 and bring it in to her. Maybe she'll fix the scales as a thank you.

I'll remember that Frankie said.....RELAX

I will not be crying over spilt milk or spilt tea, coffee or juice (though I might shed a tear over a glass of Rum and Coke). I shall not cry when on a daily basis, every pair of scissors in the house goes missing, along with every pen and both sets of car keys.  I shall not turn to drink or drugs when I forget a birthday, eye test or parent teacher meeting. Instead music shall be my salvation. In 2012, I am going to dig out every CD I have had in a cupboard since the Eighties and them ready to play when things are going pear shaped. The 'Pear Shaped Project' has started already and the play list so far includes Dee-Lite, Primal Scream, The Smiths, The Cure and Prince (Sign Of The Times). LET THE STRESS BEGIN, the Cd's are stacked up. and this year I am ready to be transported back to a time when all I had to care about was hair gel and a pair of white stilettos. 

I'll be ringing my bell

My next New Year's resolution is to go out and buy myself a bicycle bell like this clever Japanese man demonstrates here. If only I had know about this before now. It would make walking through airports, train stations, chatty mums at the school gate, football crowds (not to mention the first day of the sales) so much easier. 

In 2012, I've Got to be starting something....?

Last year, I managed to persuade three parking attendants and one guard not to give me a parking ticket or fine. This happened simply because I turned 41 and since doing so, looking confused, lost and mildly panicked has never been easier or more convincing to strangers. It is my permanent look. Is this what it feels like to be middle aged? If so, bring it on, it does have advantages. People in authority have stopped taking me seriously. In 2012 I might attempt to form a political party, start a riot, create a religion/cult or even start robbing banks. I really believe that I can get away with anything now that I have the face for it.

I must not be a fire starter, a crazy fire starter...

Last Christmas, my husband gave me a gas operated fire lighter. I  accidentally set fire to myself four times in 2011 which is good going believe you me. I am not an arsonist, just a bit clumsy. I cant seem to walk past a candle without it setting fire to a scarf I might be wearing or a tea towel I may be holding.  On Christmas day this year, I somehow managed to blow up the gas operated lighter as I cooked the sprouts. What the lighter was doing right next to the gas ring I don't know but the explosion was huge. Ironically, I gave him a fire extinguisher in the same year. So far, I have not used it. I shall start 2012 by checking all the smoke alarm batteries in the house and inventing a tea towel that doubles up as a fire blanket.

OH! I Will Look After My Teeth...

I haven't a full set of 32 teeth, after several extractions (including wisdom teeth) I am down to 26. The worse case scenario is that I lose one a year from now on, meaning I'll have none at 68. Since I had the good fortune not to have any removed last year, I am delighted to be ahead of myself. My fifth wish for 2012 is that I, and all those near and dear to me, have no dental extractions.

'Vintage' food will be on the menu

My Uncle Richard made it his goal in 2011 to eat the entire contents of his larder. He set about the task after the death of his beloved wife, Joan, in 2010. Over forty years, they had amassed a huge amount of food in cupboards, "For emergencies".  The oldest can that he consumed without incident had a sell by date of 1995. "The only thing that defeated me was a rusty can of tripe with no sell by date at all" he told me. Inspired, in 2012, I shall do the same and get creative with the 'emergency food mountain' in my cupboards. I shall start with the sardines, chili kidney beans, packets of jelly and dusty jars of Ragu before moving onto the chick peas, processed peas, black eye peas and mushy peas. I am sure if I grate enough cheese over it all the kids won't notice a thing. 

I'll climb every mountain

Since the new safety ladder fell from the attic and broke my toe back in November rendering me temporarily immobile, I have an urge to use my feet again, as much as I can in 2012. I have the urge to climb something. I am not sure what but it has to be bigger than a pile of ironing and more interesting than stairs. Maybe a wall? The Hill of Allen in Kildare isn't big enough.  Croke Patrick on the West coast might be good though do you really have to do it in bare feet?  Kilimanjaro is a bit too far away and involves flying and injections.  Suggestions welcome. 

and finally, I shall welcome visitors

In 2011, we had visitors. "Queen Barrack O'Lama" (the words of my eight year old daughter) came by.  Yes, Queen Elizabeth II, Barrack Obama and the Dalai Lama all chose to drive through, stop off or fly over County Kildare. Speed bumps were removed, everything that didn't move was power-hosed and the Curragh Plains were alive with secret service people hiding in furze bushes.  I am hoping that more people might visit the county in 2012. My top three dream guests would be "Prince Bear Leonard" (that is, Prince, Bear Grylls and Leonard Cohen). I am hoping that they'll all come at the same time, in a limo, and stop at mine for a fry up (knitted of course). 

HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM KILDARE!


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Christmas Vodka

I don't drink that much.  Just on special occasions like weddings, birthdays, after successful minor surgical procedures and of course, Christmas. Until recently, I hadn't found a festive alcoholic drink that I truly loved. So imagine my excitement when, after months of research in the name of blogging, I have come up with a drink that is truly magical concoction that everyone (over the age of 18 of course) will love too. It is something to warm up these bitterly cold winter nights.

Once a day for a week now, I have been stirring a few secret ingredients around in a pot and watching them all develop into something ABSOLUTELY DELICIOUS. Without doubt, this is the best drink to share with friends this Christmas. The trials have been completed, I have people all over Kildare banging on the door for the recipe.  Finally, I am ready to share the secret recipe with the world.

It is vodka based and therefore very strong. It goes without saying that you won't need much. It is best served in very small amounts. Despite one person in the trial suggesting that we call it 'Annie's Secret Potion', I am calling it, 'The Spirit of Christmas'. You'll understand why when you see the ingredients. It takes 5 minutes to make. Decanted into little bottles, is the ideal gift to bring to friends and neighbours this year. It's flavour?  Christmas in a shot glass.

The Spirit of Christmas

Ingredients

250gms Muscavado sugar

half a teaspoon nutmeg

5 cloves

half a teaspoon of Vanilla extract or essence

3 drops Almond essence

half a teaspoon cinnamen

160gms Raisins

260gms Sultanas

the zest of 1 orange

1 tsp Mixed Spice

1 bottle of Vodka 

You will also need: 

a wooden spoon

a glass jar with a screw top lid

Method

1. Place all of the ingredients into a jar, twist on the lid and give it a good sir around. Put somewhere cool to sit (away from children and small animals)

2. Each day, give the jar a good shake, making sure that everything is mixing together nicely.

3. After a week, strain through a sieve into a bowl. 

4. Pour into bottles big and small and share with your friends and neighbours. 

And finally.....

You'll be left with a bowl filled with vodka infused fruits. I put mine into a cake, though I will not be leaving a slice out for Santa this year. If I did, he wouldn't be able to make it back up the chimney. Hic. 

A Very Cheesy Christmas

This morning my nine year old daughter suggested that we take photographs of the family and make them into our own personalised Christmas cards this year. This is not something that sits comfortably with me. I told her that I don't know anyone in Ireland who sends personalised Christmas cards and when you stop and think about it, there are only three groups of people in the whole world do think it is a good idea:

animal lovers,

.....Eurpoean royalty....

......and Americans.

"But wouldn't it be nice to be the first family in the Ireland to send our friends a family photo card?" she asked. Would it? I couldn't work it out. It was too early in the morning. I needed toast to help me focus. Perhaps a family christmas photo would be nice but only if we took the right kind of photo. Nothing too predictable or cheesy. There's nothing worse than a cheesy greeting card to put you off your mince pies. 

And we certainly wouldn't want one that involved nudity,

.....or highly inflammable costumes. 

Back to the kitchen, and my daughter who had found a camera. "Can't I take a nice photo of you and Dad?" Oh help. I knew exactly what she had in mind. A christmas couple shot, all woolly jumpers and white teeth. 

"No. No couple shots, it's too early". Then, "What about if I made a Christmas card with just you in it then?" she pointed the camera at me. I had just got out of bed. It was 7.30 am.  Before I knew it, the flash had gone off. I hadn't even had a cup of tea. I hadn't even thought about smiling. It was a Monday morning. "Oh, this is LOVELY" she said. I looked at the photo. I looked like an arsonist. It could ever be used as our family Christmas card. It would however, be ideal  if ever the Irish Prison Service decided to send put a Christmas photo card to ex-offenders. 

My husband walked through the kitchen on the way out to work. "I know, I'll take one Dad then". "NO! I'm not photogenic. I don't like having my photo ta...." was all he managed before the flash went off. Poor child.  Two horrific family portraits that if made into a Christmas card, would make any recipients vomit. 

Not put off,  she started clicking randomly, hoping that one of the images would be good enough to be made into a Christmas card. The first was of the kitchen sink,

the second, of the fishtank,

and finally, my broken toe (which, despite the bruising, looked much better than my face at 7.30am).

Even with a bit of glitter and spray snow, neither a kitchen sink, a fish tank or a toe makes for a good Christmas card.  She knew it, I knew it and christmas card manufacturers around the world know it too. She went outside in to the garden, out to the yard where our other pets live. Five minutes later she returned in a state of great excitement. "LOOK AT THIS!"

So I did. I looked at twenty photos of the pet rabbits. "Wouldn't they look lovely in a little Santa hat? OR what about if we dressed them up as REINDEERS or as snowmen?" Rabbits? That would put us into the 'animal lover' category of personalized Christmas card senders. Am I am ready for that? Reindeer Rabbits? What would the Rabbit Welfare League have to say? 

I have been working on the Christmas card all day. I have come up with two lovely photos that could work with just a few more editing tweaks (one needs a bit of tinsel and perhaps some baubles to make it a little more festive).

 I shall let the children decide which we one send out.

or

Jesus Christ!

What a weekend. It all started when on Friday, as I stood chatting with another mother at school, mid conversation, I got rather animated. With my arms and handbag swinging around there was a loud crashing sound and before I knew it, with one swoop, I had completely demolished the ‘Sacred Space’ outside the school secretary’s office.

The Virgin Mary fell flat on her face; the bible fell off the table and if it had not been for the screw top, my friend and I would have been splashing about in Holy Water as the plastic Holy Mary shaped container fell to the floor with a thud.

Worse still, the biggest feature of all, a wooden crucifix, fell over. I hurridly picked everything up and tried my best to make the display look, well, sacred again. As I lifted the crucifix up, to my horror, Jesus was no longer securely nailed to the cross. He was hanging on for dear life, with just one palm nailed firmly on.  

“Oh Jesus look what I’ve done” I whispered to my friend, holding the broken crucifix for her to see.  A voice piped up from inside the office, it was the deputy head teacher. She looked out from the office at the wrecked sacred space. “Yes indeed. That is Jesus Christ Annie. You have just knocked him off his cross”.

Doing my best to make good the Sacred Space, I put the bible back on the table and put the plastic Holy Mary Holy water container next to the other Holy Mary for company. Neither looked damaged. Unlike poor Jesus. I put him into my handbag and promised the school that I’d have him back on Monday morning.

Once home, I looked through the tool box and found a nail that was too big and a hammer. Then I looked at hole in the tiny palm on the tiny Jesus. I may not be the most religious person, but somehow, it felt totally wrong to put any nail into it, into that tiny golden palm.

Perhaps I'd get away with tying him back on with a ribbon. Or pegging him on. Even better, an elastic band might do the trick. Or Blu-Tac. Would Pritt-Stick be strong enough? Maybe I could try that flour and water paste that we used in the 80's in art class at school. But none of the above felt, well, very dignified. 

I sought advice from friends and family. When I sent a message requesting his assistance, my father replied “vatican crucifix helpline 003906246911-dad”. Was he serious? But what is the right thing to do with a broken crucifix? I turned to the internet and found the answer at 'Catholic Answers'. Their advice was simple.

“If you do not wish to repair the crucifix, or if it is unrepairable, the crucifix can be broken up so that it is not recognizable as a religious object and the fragments buried”. 

On closer inspection, I noticed that the school's crucifix did have rather a bad lean. The lean must have always been there, it wasn't my fault. Honest.  Still, it wasn't broken enough that it needed breaking up and burying in the school vegetable patch. 

My teenage daughter came home from school. “Look what I did,” I held up the crucifix in her face with two hands, like she was a werewolf. She instantly recognized it from her old primary school. “OH MY GOD! THAT IS SO DISRESPECTFUL!” she yelled, her face purple. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT? THAT’S VANDALISM” Despite my efforts to explain that it was an accident, that I hadn’t purposefully knocked him off in an act of rebellion, she ran to her room and slammed the door.

I tried to coax her out with comforting words like “Why are you so angry?". Silence. "You told us you were a Buddhist last month?". Silence. "Buddhists don’t get this angry do they? Look at the Dali Lama? Have you ever seen him this angry? No.” Silence.  

Next, old friend, Toby, sent me a suggestion.  “I'd leave it as it is - your Golden Jesus now looks like he's participating in some kind of extreme sport, swinging off the cross, making a dynamic move while rock climbing or perhaps taking a ride one handed down a zip wire. I'd explain to the priest this new action packed messiah will have a greater resonance with the young people at the school”.

I might pass that idea onto the Parish Priest. But I promised the school that I'd have him back, repaired, after the weekend. I couldn't leave Jesus him hanging there like Tarzan from a vine. Not being so close to the Holy Communions. The Sacred Space had been only recently laid out. People would notice. Word would spread that I, virtually the only non-Catholic in the school, was responsible. They'll think it was some kind of protest.  They'd all get upset, like my daughter had and I'd probably get banned from the Parents Association. 

I went back to the drawing board. Maybe I could Superglue him back on rather than having to go through the trauma of a modern day crucifiction. Or I could try that 'No More Nails' stuff. Another friend comforted me. "You can do this, just nail him on, stay strong and think....what would Jesus do?” That was the best advice of the day. What would Jesus have done?

Well, wasn’t he into helping others and being neighbourly? I phoned a friend in the neighbourhood. Her husband John, being an engineer, was a man who oversees bridge building projects around the world. He worked in an area that required precision and detail. I knew that John would never accidently hang little Jesus upside down or back to front. So kind John did the neighbourly thing and fixed him back on to the cross using a tiny nail. 

Today, when no-one was looking, I put the crucifix back on the Sacred Table. It may still be slightly lop sided but at least it is now centre stage, between the two Holy Mary's.....

..........Now all I have to do is mend my toe which broke when I was putting away the tool box this afternoon.  A ladder came crashing down from the attic and fell on it. I spent a total of two hours in hospital and came out with a splint, a crutch and a prescription for medication to ease the pain. 

Is this an example of divine retribution? If it is, I consider 'Himself' to be most ungrateful. If he falls off again, I'm going to use a stapler and gaffer tape to fix him back on. 

OUCH!

.