one point, when Geoff and my mom and my brother and I were on the el,
riding downtown, Geoff looked over and me and took my hand and said, "hello,
Jessamyn and Geoff are married now!
them your congrats, it sounds like they had a lovely time.
remember my delight in calling Jeff my husband. Not altogether thrilled
with the first Mrs. Page, but that just sounded Old!
Guides to the Stars by Kramer Wentzel.
linked to under Taurus; "I was listening to some cowboy music last
week, and I started to notice a trend. Snuff"
sure how I'm related, but a links a links a link.
bet? Oh yes, I pretended to be Renee, called an airline, got all
her money back for her flight to JournalCon, so
she forgave me . Which was lovely and meant I stopped almost immediately.
Still been trekking busily on, writing people long long replies to their
emails and posting long long responses to TUS. Long long meaning I missed
writing here, and it just bubbled up into different places. One day
I'll go back and make my emails and posts into entries. One day. Not
the highest thing on a very long list that.
was Pop's (Jeff's Dad) 70th birthday. Jeff and
his family are the next generation up from mine, although he's just
three years older than me, he's the youngest boy, and I'm the oldest
girl. My Mum is 57 this year, my Dad, 62, Pop is 70, Mom (Jeff's
his 70th, his Dad wanted one each of his favourite cakes from the
kid couples. This would be so much simpler if I'd written the cast
page. I'm not anonymous, my name is my name, as is Jeff's. I'm less
inclined to put other people's real names, this is my out there live
without (for the most part) a net, not theirs.
I'm going to have to work on the psuedonymous tags, I started with
B1 and B2 for his brothers, and it sounds like I'm related by marriage
guys. Then when it's time for the spouses and kidlets, it becomes
algebraic equations, which is just not so much fun, to read or write.
going to assist with the monikers. In the meantime, he made the chocolate
cake, his sister made the orange cake, and his middle brother's wife
made the coconut cake. All from scratch, all very good. I only had
a piece of the orange cake, I'd reached capacity by that stage. (It's
a very easy recipe to make it, she says. A yellow cake mix, made with
tropicana orange juice instead of the liquid, and an extra 1/2 cup
of liquid consisting of pureed tangerines/mandarins. The icing is
a stick of butter, a small bag of confectioners sugar/icing sugar,
and enough pureed tangerines/mandarins to make it icing consistency.
Sweet, but surrounded by a layer of tang, a great combo.)
second chocolate cake turned out great. The first one, not so good.
It's been a while since I culled the old baking provisions, the first
lot of flour he used was stale, and the cake tasted stale also. The
second lot of flour we could find came complete with it's own previously
wriggling extra protein, so we didn't even bother with that. I made
a mercy dash to the Acme for some flour, and we managed to get to
the party only 30 minutes late, well before the cake was needed.
played Present Cop Aunt Amanda. Present Cop Aunt Amanda's main job
is to stop the 5 nieces and nephews all under 7 from opening other
people's presents. I don't remember ever opening anyone else's present
when I was younger, it was automatically known that was not done.
I don't really remember being under 7 so much, so maybe I did. I suspect
not. I opened my own presents ahead of time, on the sly, but no-one
else's. One Christmas, a week or two before Christmas, I opened them
all, played with them all, sticky-taped them back up and feigned surprise
and excitement on Christmas Day. This would explain why I have my
mother mail my birthday and Christmas presents to my sister-in-laws,
and I don't get them until just before the day. This would also explain
how I can pretend to be the mother
of three from North Carolina. How healthy a child technique this
is, I really couldn't say, but I do like to impress on a child the
consequences of an action. Turnabout is fair play. Which results in
the following conversation;
Cop Aunt Amanda: Hey, it's Pop's birthday, he should get
to open his own card, and his own present
This one's almost opened, look, the corners ripped already.
Cop Aunt Amanda: And it can stay that way until Pop's ready
to open that present.
But I don't know what's inside the present! I want to know now!
Cop Aunt Amanda: When it's your present, then you get to
open the gift first. This isn't your birthday, these aren't your presents.
How would you like it if I came to your house, on your birthday, and
opened all your presents?
(gleefully) That's OK! (his birthday
has been already for this year, in October)
Cop Aunt Amanda: Actually, you've already had your birthday,
I'll come and open your Christmas presents, when's a good day for
me to do that?
(horrified!) Noooo! You can't do that!
Cop Aunt Amanda: That's the same thing as you opening Pop's
present now, without waiting for him!
Pop let them open a few, but it was still done in a structured manner,
and with his permission, not a grab fest. I did manage to get him
to open one present of and on his own, and felt not a little satisfied
at that. Present Cop Aunt Amanda has some fascistic tendencies with
the present thing. Present Cop Aunt Amanda would also bite your hand
off if you tried to open her present.
aside from being a Turkey Mad Dad, is
also a John Wayne Fiend, so we got him two John Wayne Videos (Comancheros
and True Grit) and a CD entitled "America, Why I Love Her"
by John Wayne. That CD truly stuns people until they find out he's
reciting (things like the Pledge of Allegiance, which
I am not doing a link, because there's that whole Under God, not under
God thing that just gets me rumpled and ruffled. You know John Wayne's
doing the Under God, that'll do) as opposed to singing.
notify list knows I went out to lunch today to a restaurant recommended
by L, the person I went with. She drove, and we chatted and then
ate, then visited Borders. A fun afternoon without huge cost.
I take my Palm with me to bookshops now, add to a "To Be
Read" list, which I bring home and add to my Amazon wishlist.
I can buy at my leisure, at a local second hand bookshop, through
Amazon, or just borrow from the library with my list in hand.
Trying not to drop $100 every time we go in there, and it's working
well so far.
not the best Indian food I've had, the restaurants in Adelaide
take some living up to, but it's the best I've had since coming
to the US, and the best I've had in some time. Palak Paneer, Tandoori
Chicken, Butter Chicken, Curried Lamb, Mango Lassis, raitas, freshly
made naan, all in a buffet style, all for $6.95 (except
the Mango smoothies, aka lassi, $2.75 each, for fresh mango, that's
more than OK), all good. I ate so much I didn't have any
room left for the rice pudding dessert, and I could tell it was
good, it smelled warm and spicy, cardamom and cinnamon and nutmeg.
Next time, for sure. I grabbed a small portion of their fennel
seeds on the way out, it's a traditional meal ender and breath
freshener, nice little anise flourish. If you're ever in a Fijian
Indian shop, they sell little lollies, they look like small version
of the candied licorice bullets (what the hell
are they called here in the US, someone? They're traditional movie
candy), but they contain fennel seeds, a nice anise crunch.
tasty raita (A side dish or condiment, very often
cooling, such as cucumber and yoghurt) that I haven't had
for a while, but made every time I made my own Indian curries
(doesn't go well with Thai curries, for example,
it's not a good mesh) is a tomato onion raita. No quantities
per se, it's all to look and to taste. Diced tomatoes, diced white
onion, diced banana, sultanas (golden raisins would
substitute), and unsweetened desiccated coconut. Fresh
would be fine, but don't use that pre-sweetened crap, it'll fuck
up the food, and that's a mortal sin in my book.
going to borrow from Dorothy
R, with my bulleted list of things I should put in an entry
at some point;
bathers, and going down a size
birthday and the three cakes
Outlet & Garage
the house next door from burning down
- Debt collectors
pissing me off
Parades, gallons of hot chocolate and more house fires
- 3 years
of photos from Walmart
pics & chat of the kitten (that'd be Adelaide aka Cutie).
4 December, 2002
Amanda Page, 1996-2002