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My Dad liked his presents, so that makes me happy.
By way of celebration for his birthday, my Sister and I cooked a steak dinner under his expert direction. I'm pleased to say that I turned out what I think is the best rare sirloin of my life. Beautifully charred on the outside and deliciously red and juicy right the way through. The key being, he informed me, to fry the steak in a mixture of olive oil and butter. That one went to my Dad, of course, but he was kind enough to give me a taste of it. The roasted winter vegetables were tasty too. I never get tired of caramelized squash and shallots. Once again, we decided that champagne is a waste of money, as we all far preferred the £2.50 bottle of Asti that accompanied the desert. Maybe we'd think differently about a *good* champagne, but I dread to think how much a bottle of such a beverage would cost.
After dinner, we watched Curse of the Were-rabbit, and ate lots of stilton. When the stilton was all gone, my Dad served up the oysters he received from my Sister. Although I pride myself in being willing to experiment, fresh oysters are a dish that has so far eluded me (yes, it was fear). So, two oysters, downed with lemon juice, and I have another new experience to chalk up. As with sashimi, the taste was more about subtlety than anything else, but far from unpleasant. I really feel tho that I'd need to eat a fair few more before acquiring such a taste. Maybe next time I'll be feeling brave enough to chew on them too.
Around ten o'clock, I received a rather bizarre text message from a workmate friend. Apparently, a "gorgeous female" might be interested and I was to forward a photo of myself, which I duly did. A further message asked if I attended the Mission, to which I replied "when I can." A few minutes later, a final message arrived reading "Maybe next time," accompanied by a photo of an embarrassed looking brunette doing her best to hide her face. Smiles all round.
The following morning, Kinross was of course covered with a blanket of snow, and I had of course forgotten to bring any appropriate footwear. By noon, there was a good six inches, and it was still falling. Since my Sister was taking the train to Edinburgh at three, I left with her instead of taking the bus. My Dad drove us to Inverkeithing, and despite some treacherous looking motorway, the journey was free from incident. Back in Edinburgh, the snow was slush, and not really anything to be concerned about.
My Sister starts a new job soon, taking her off of the shop floor and into the office. I'm happy for her, and I hope that this will let her find the kind of work that she'll ultimately be satisfied with.
Since it's been more than a fortnight since I last went clubbing, I'm going to head for Neon tonight to stave off withdrawal symptoms. I wonder if I'll survive Monday at work with only three hours sleep. I'm going to miss the Listening Room tho, partly because I'm skint and partly because I need a nap just now, still suffering from a week of <6 hour nights.
By way of celebration for his birthday, my Sister and I cooked a steak dinner under his expert direction. I'm pleased to say that I turned out what I think is the best rare sirloin of my life. Beautifully charred on the outside and deliciously red and juicy right the way through. The key being, he informed me, to fry the steak in a mixture of olive oil and butter. That one went to my Dad, of course, but he was kind enough to give me a taste of it. The roasted winter vegetables were tasty too. I never get tired of caramelized squash and shallots. Once again, we decided that champagne is a waste of money, as we all far preferred the £2.50 bottle of Asti that accompanied the desert. Maybe we'd think differently about a *good* champagne, but I dread to think how much a bottle of such a beverage would cost.
After dinner, we watched Curse of the Were-rabbit, and ate lots of stilton. When the stilton was all gone, my Dad served up the oysters he received from my Sister. Although I pride myself in being willing to experiment, fresh oysters are a dish that has so far eluded me (yes, it was fear). So, two oysters, downed with lemon juice, and I have another new experience to chalk up. As with sashimi, the taste was more about subtlety than anything else, but far from unpleasant. I really feel tho that I'd need to eat a fair few more before acquiring such a taste. Maybe next time I'll be feeling brave enough to chew on them too.
Around ten o'clock, I received a rather bizarre text message from a workmate friend. Apparently, a "gorgeous female" might be interested and I was to forward a photo of myself, which I duly did. A further message asked if I attended the Mission, to which I replied "when I can." A few minutes later, a final message arrived reading "Maybe next time," accompanied by a photo of an embarrassed looking brunette doing her best to hide her face. Smiles all round.
The following morning, Kinross was of course covered with a blanket of snow, and I had of course forgotten to bring any appropriate footwear. By noon, there was a good six inches, and it was still falling. Since my Sister was taking the train to Edinburgh at three, I left with her instead of taking the bus. My Dad drove us to Inverkeithing, and despite some treacherous looking motorway, the journey was free from incident. Back in Edinburgh, the snow was slush, and not really anything to be concerned about.
My Sister starts a new job soon, taking her off of the shop floor and into the office. I'm happy for her, and I hope that this will let her find the kind of work that she'll ultimately be satisfied with.
Since it's been more than a fortnight since I last went clubbing, I'm going to head for Neon tonight to stave off withdrawal symptoms. I wonder if I'll survive Monday at work with only three hours sleep. I'm going to miss the Listening Room tho, partly because I'm skint and partly because I need a nap just now, still suffering from a week of <6 hour nights.
