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NiftyFiftyShades

~ Failed Domestic Goddess

NiftyFiftyShades

Category Archives: lifestyle

You know you’re an adult when…

03 Wednesday Aug 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in Etiquette, Humour, lifestyle, Midlife, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

funny, Grown up, midlife, women

napkinfolding

1. You close your online gaming account and join a bee keeping forum. Bee keeping and napkin folding are your new passions.

 

 

 

 

plumber2. Workmen who come to your house to fix your boiler call you Mrs. “That’ll be an extra 50 euros for the new washer Mrs Ryan”.  None of the familiar terms of endearment, ‘love’ or ‘sunshine’ will be uttered.  It’s the least they could do to address you formally and with respect while fleecing you for every last penny.  “Standards must be maintained” will be your new mantra.

brigjones-icecream3. You could eat a whole tub of Haagen Dazs if you wanted to but choose not to. The only person wagging a finger at you as you reach for the fridge is yourself. You can stuff your face with sweets with carefree youthful abandon but you wont.  The bathroom scales will be ever present in your thoughts. It’s not as much fun anyway when there’s no one to scold you.

4. You say more appropriate things than inappropriate things. This anomaly may reverse in time.  When you’re past middle age you revert to saying more inappropriate things than appropriate, or what I like to call – radical honesty.

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5. You develop an awareness of hygiene that was never present in your teenage years.   You become acquainted with the vacuum cleaner.   It never troubled you before but suddenly the collection of socks under the bed makes you queasy.

sitdown6. You’re fond of a old ‘sit down’.

cushion

7. You develop a cushion fixation. Your shopping habits change.  You still like the odd impulse buy but you’re more likely to find yourself in the haberdashery department of Brown Thomas than looking at Gucci handbags.  Who doesn’t love new cushions?

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8. Buying a new appliance makes you more giddy than a thirteen year old at a Justin Bieber concert. You actually read the instructions on how to care for your new stand mixer.

9. Beer will no longer cut the mustard. You discover the joys of a glass of wine.

 

Wine-instead-os-milk

 

Man Flu vs Woman Flu

22 Friday Jul 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in Health, lifestyle, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

imageMan flu may be on the increase.  This devastating ailment is so much more severe than mere ‘women flu’ that demands are growing for the Government to pour all resources, the entire health budget into research into this debilitating condition.

imageDoes Man Flu / Woman Flu exist?

I’ve recently called on a friend who was feeling a little under the weather.  I found her in a sad state, incapable of walking, talking, eating, doing anything really, apart from coughing up a lung, sneezing and generally looking like she was about to expire at any moment.

‘I’m grand, I’ll be fine. Just a dose of the sniffles, nothing a Lemsip won’t sort” she croaked. Clearly it was more than a dose of the sniffles.  I watched as she tried to continue ironing bedclothes, determined not to succumb to her affliction.  Taking to the bed was not an option.

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Is the question not does ‘man flu’ exist but does ‘woman flu’ not exist?

manuppillsMen quite rightly take to the bed at the first sneeze and insist to anyone who will listen that they have been struck down by Ebola and are close to death.  Man Flu Man will take every pill, medicine, pain killer, cough syrup known to mankind, snuggle up under the blankets, stick a thermometer in his mouth for added effect and generally demand extreme mollycoddling.  Surrounded by books to while away the hours, tv remote at the ready, stacks of Top Gear magazines, he’ll  want to be spoon fed his favourite lemon drizzle cake to keep his strength up.

imageHe may at some point insist on being taken to hospital in full Breaking Bad boiler suit but before that he may call friends and family to say his goodbyes. Other symptoms experienced by Man Flu Man include groaning in agony, night terrors, temporary psychosis and visions of the Archangel Gabrielle.

All perfectly acceptable behaviour in my book. When else can you demand of your loved ones such love and devotion. When it comes to flu, I wish women could be more like men. 

 

imageThe problem isn’t Man Flu but Women who refuse to acknowledge that they have it, flu being the sole preserve of men.   Typical ‘woman flu’ symptoms include:

  • Doing excessive housework to prove it isn’t happening.
  • Repeatedly saying “I’ll be fine, it’s just a slight chill”.
  • Repeatedly saying “I haven’t time for this”
  • Getting on with your day, ignoring runny nose.
  • Pathological fear of idleness. The thought of not being needed will spell the end of civilisation as we know it.

imageResearch by Beechams reveals that female flu lasts 20% longer and has worse symptoms than the male variety.

 

 

 

 

image.jpegSo, fellow Goddesses, the next time you’re feeling a little under the weather, man up and milk it for all its worth.

  • Take to the bed immediately.
  • Demand toast and Bovril in bed.
  • Say “Can you turn the tv this way and turn off the light, its hurting my eyes”.
  • Binge watch The Good Wife.
  • Delegate all household chores.
  • Request a stash of Walnut Whips be left on your bedside locker.
  • Have your loved ones read to you from Good Housekeeping or Marie Claire.
  • Insist on cups of tea being produced on the hour every hour.
  • Keep this up for at least 5 days.

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What Your Water Says About You

14 Thursday Jul 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in Drink, food, Health, Humour, lifestyle, Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Drink, funny, helath, water

imageIf only I lived as a North Korean peasant in the presence of Kim Jung Un. The special one has discovered a new treatment to prevent aging and cancer – water. Water from the sacred Mt Koryong. And the benevolent leader has bottled it for his 27 million subjects to buy.

If like me, you like your water infused with rose petals and oxygen, collected from the tears of water nymphs, regurgitated by the Dalai Lama himself and spit into a bottle, then the following might interest you.

imageAccording to Nth Korean scientists “There are nano-tracks in human’s cell membrane and only smaller molecule water can pass it. Such water is absorbed rapidly into human body to promote metabolism of cells and works as antioxidant to prevent the accumulation of peroxides, retard aging and prevent cancer.”

And the water is indeed sacred, there is a never ending supply. According to reports “Geologists and management officials of the spring water factory have not yet measured the exact volume of water. However, much they pump the water, it never diminishes.”

Its claimed that is has mysterious energies, and cleverly nicknamed ‘clear water’. I suppose ‘murky water’ wouldn’t do.

I suspect Kim himself told his scientists to find the cure for cancer or else face a cruel tortuous death. Low and behold, there it was starting them in the face.. water..

What your choice of water says about you.

imageCoconut Water :– You are a hypochondriac totally taken in by the hype. You’re never more than 5 ft. from a yoga mat and you firmly believe that drinking coconut water will allow you to remain in a Downward Dog position when you’ve passed the 100 year mark. You don’t really like the taste, but that’s the price of being a smug health freak.

Fiji Water :- You like taking selfies of your gym body, you never pass a glass without checking your reflection to confirm that you still have it.

Tap water :- Tap water ceased to be acceptable in 1989. You are obviously very very old….

imageSmart Water:- You’re not that smart but you like to show everyone that you’re tech savvy. You believe the junk science behind electrolytes that replenish lost energy. You want to know what the Ph balance is but don’t understand what it means.

 

Evian :- An acceptable choice for a domestic Goddess. It has the ‘Je ne sais quoi’ factor. Would do if San Pellegrino not available.

imageSan Pellegrino:- Sweet nectar of the Gods.  Lets be clear, this is not merely a bottle of water but an accessory, and we all live by the old adage “Accessories doth mak’eth the woman”. Your Chloe handbag is just the right size for carrying it but you’d rather keep it in your hand.

 

 

imageLidlAldi own brand:- You are the intellectual superior to everyone. You know it makes sense, it’s functional, cheaper and of equal quality to Evian and you can bulk buy when doing your grocery shop. You actually understand the junk science about electrolytes in water. You think Louis Vouton plays for Arsenal and your idea of a perfect holiday is a potholing expedition in Donegal.

Tipperary Spring :- You are a country bumpkin. You prefer a night by the fire knitting Aran jumpers to a night on the tiles.

Water Fountain: – Your homeless, but hey, you have the edge on everyone else, you’re drinking free clean water…

Tap Dancing School - 'We only use tap water.'

Tap Dancing School – ‘We only use tap water.’

Old Bag To Let

12 Tuesday Jul 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in Fashion, Humour, lifestyle, Shopping, Travel, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

cruise, funny, Handbag, women

 

 

image  My dream of a luxury Caribbean cruise will remain just that, a dream, unless I come up with a cunning plan. Staring out of my rain soaked office window, my mind is elsewhere.  I’m lounging on deck, a Pimms in one hand and my Jamaican Patois  phrase book in the other.  A gentle breeze caresses my bikini body (in my dreams I have a bikini body).  A hot sailor arrives with a cold towel to gently dab away a bead of sweat from my sunkissed forehead…..

img_1770I trawl the internet looking for ways and means of earning a few shillings and turn my fantasy into reality. The internet offers a plethora of suggestions, but one catches my eye.

Handbag Rental:- Yes, there are crazy people out there willing to part with cash for a loan of your handbag.  Initially I find this an amusing idea.  Reminiscing about days of old when I lived at home with my five sisters.  Handbags were exchanged without permission or knowledge.  You could arrive home to find your polo mints and lip gloss strewn across the bed, handbag nowhere to be seen.  Many an argument started with ‘Where the f**k is my bag”.  Ahh! Happy days.  If I had a penny for every time my handbag was commandeered….

image.jpegBut this idea or renting out your handbag intrigues me. A Burberry clutch will get you 35 euros per week.   A Longchamp tote maybe even more. My plan may indeed be cunning. The only drawback is a lack of designer bags in my wardrobe. I might get 50 cent for my old satchel, but that wouldn’t cover the postage.

 

 

 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAnd there is that fact that my handbag is a health hazard.

 

img_1769However, it’s a universal truth that any domestic Goddess worth her salt must own at least one decent bag. How else can she be differentiated from the peasants. I do have a lovely Orla Kiely shopper that I’m quite attached to.  I’m not about to let any old tosser (too miserable to buy their own bag) use and abuse it.  I’ll rent out my Primark crossover bag for starters and see how I get on.  There can’t be that much competition, I can’t imagine anyone who owns an Alexander McQueen skull box clutch would be that hard pressed that they’d have to rent it out.

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If the handbag rental goes well, I could rent out all sorts of things. Shoes..I have a pair of runners that need breaking in. I wouldn’t even charge extra for the muck.  Maybe not my good shoes, don’t relish the thought of some slimey old pervert sniffing around my stilettos… Scarves, sunglasses, jewellery, husband. The sky’s the limit.

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I consider other ideas..

Personal Assistant to Millionaire:- Dashing about, organising appointments, booking flights.   Maybe I could be a kind of skivvy to the stars.  I have visions of me collecting George Clooney’s dry cleaning.  I’ll make myself indispensable to him.  George will be incapable of sneezing without my guidance.  In order to get the gig, I’d have to look the part.  Mmm…Maybe I’ll rent a little Gucci clutch bag.

 

 

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Bonkers Food

23 Thursday Jun 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in food, Humour, lifestyle, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

food, funny

imageIf you’re thinking of moving to LA anytime soon, you need to get with the program. LA based Amanda Chantal Bacon owns Moon Juice, a juice and nut milk shop.  She has a ‘copper cup of silver needle and calendula tea’ every morning.  Last year she wrote a food diary for Elle which went viral.

“At 8am, I had a warm, morning chi drink on my way to school drop off, drink it in the car! It contains more than 25 grams of plant protein, thanks to vanilla mushroom protein and stone ground almond butter and also has the super endocrine, brain, immunity and libido boosting powers of Bran Dust, cordyceps, reishi, maca snd Shilajit resin. I throw in some ho shou wu and pearl as part of my beauty regime.  I chase it with three Quinton shots for mineralization and two lipospheric vitamin B-complex packets for energy”.   Source –Jay Rayner /Twitter

 

If that isn’t enough to put you off your cornflakes…I did some digging of my own and found plenty of similarly ludicrous food fads to make you feel inadequate.

imageAstrologically farmed eggs – That is, eggs that are laid at a certain time to coincide with cycles of the moon. Apparently they are tastier they have ‘bright sunset yellow’ yokes.  This also comes under the heading of Biodynamic Farming, or bonkers farming to you and me, which advocates planting, cultivating and harvesting crops based on moon phases.

image.jpegBog Butter – A farmer in County Cavan has found a large knob of butter. Why has this made global headlines.  Because it’s not just any old butter but 2000 year old bog butter buried by our forefathers and  preserved in a bog.  Now lauded as a wonder food, much sought after due to its rarity.   According to scientists, bog butter provides additional peat infused nutrients. It has a waxy texture and smells of cheese.   Will we read next of Russian oligarchs shelling out millions for it?  One woman’s forward planning I found amusing,  she intends to turn her breast milk into butter and bury it in the Bog of Allen, so that some archaeologist will dig it up and tuck into it in a couple of hundred years time.

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Quinoa – never eat anything you can’t pronounce. Deeply unpleasant glue like grain.  The unpalatable truth is that poor Bolivians can no longer afford it due to soaring western demand.

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imageActivated cashews – if you must have ‘bio-available’ nuts.

From  ‘Nourishing Traditions’ by Sally Fallon

How to activate your nuts…

  1. Dissolve salt in enough water to cover the amount of nuts/seeds you are activating.
  2. In a large bowl place your nut or seed of choice.
  3. Cover with the salt water solution.
  4. Soak for the required number of hours.
  5. Strain and rinse the nuts.
  6. Spread over a dehydrator rack, or baking tray.
  7. Dry in the dehydrator for around 12-24 hours.
  8. If drying in the oven, set the oven at the lowest temperature possible, preferably no more than 65C. Stir or turn them occasionally, for the required drying time.
  9. And the result? A crunchy, delicious, totally bio-available and stress-free, nuts.

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Watermelon spiked with gin – Maybe this one is not so ludicrous.  Cut a hole into the watermelon that is deep enough to pour in a large helping of your favourite tipple. Leave overnight and serve the next day.

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Notification Bother

19 Sunday Jun 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in lifestyle, Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

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My phone is bleeping to very kindly tell me that traffic is heavy and I’ll arrive home in 12 minutes. Only problem is that I’m at home already.  I really need to go into this traffic app and switch off the notifications.  If only I could muster up enough enthusiasm to tick a box.  I’d have to remember which app is responsible too. Thinking of all the boxes that require ticking is stressing me out.  It’s easier to just ignore the bleeps.  I know that on the scale of life’s trials, it up there with having to resort to drinking Cava when all the Champagne has run out.

imageWe all sign up for all sorts of aids to keep us on the straight and narrow.  Apps to help us navigate our way through traffic, to tell us when someone tweeted some hilarious inspirational quote that they stole from Facebook or that someone you don’t know is going to an event near you.

imageThe problem is this, clever app developers know how to instil a sense of urgency to make you open the app to find out more. When I get a notification to tell me that Justin Beiber has changed his hair parting, I feel the need to open up the app to investigate further, regardless of the fact that I couldn’t care less if JB himself appeared in front of me in person in the nip to sing me a lullaby (sorry for putting that image in your head).

Admittedly, sometimes they can brighten up a hum drum existence. When there’s nothing else going on in my life I’m happy in the knowledge that George Clooney is whooping it up in Venice.

imageAnd there is the fact that I have been known to panic if I look at my phone only to realise that I’ve no new notifications.

A worrying trend is companies collecting both customer profile and behavioural data to send personalized notifications. Apparently I’ve reached the age where I’m considered a candidate for a face lift, why else am I targeted with notifications about new cosmetic procedures.  Whiskey Tango Foxtrot!   I hadn’t been thinking of life threatening facial disfigurement, but now that I’ve been notified, I’m suddenly dwelling on the sagginess of my jaw line.

Having given this some thought, I’ve resolved to tick a few boxes and banish these nuisance push notifications forever.

First thing tomorrow!

 

 

Football Crazy

13 Monday Jun 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in Humour, lifestyle, Sport, Travel, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

family, Sport, Travel

 

image.jpegGood news – I’m no longer a golf widow. But wait, hold the celebration, golf has only been replaced with football. The nation grinds to a halt as Euro 2016 fever grips the country.   Himself is off to Bordeaux to worship at the altar of football.  In a couple of days he will set off on a ten day solo road trip across France on his beloved Ducati motorbike (I only recently learned what make it was, previously referred to as ‘a red one’ if asked). Lovingly buffed up and ready for the trip.

image.jpegThank God it’s finally arrived. I don’t think I could take much more of this insanity. To say the meticulous planning of this trip was executed with military precision would be an understatement. I sometimes wondered if the house would ever return to normal.  I look forward to the joys of coming down to my kitchen each morning and not have spare motorbike parts strewn across the counter tops, not have maps spread out across the table, yellow stickers on the fridge or messages from Airbnb every time I open my iPad. Finally, normal family life may resume.

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Check lists made, maps drawn up, a new phone purchased to ensure Google maps working, Airbnb booked months in advance and of course the much sought after golden ticket tucked safely away in his wallet (match tickets reportedly changing hands for 10 times their face value). I’d say he’s ready.

imageLast night we had the trial run. The rucksack packed, unpacked, repacked. I tried lifting it, but couldn’t. “What have you got in there – a few gold bars?, a spare engine?”. On inspection, I wasn’t far off. 90% of the bag consisted of tools for the bike, spare parts, bulbs, barely room for a pair of shorts and a couple of green t-shirts. If only I could pack so light. Just as well I’m not tagging along as I’d never manage with less than 15 pairs of shoes.

Ahh, looking at his happy little face as he gets on his beloved Ducati, his anticipation of a momentous journey, a trip of a lifetime, his pride in being able to join the Green Army, ’twud bring a tear to the eye.

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BBQ Heaven or Griller Warfare?

31 Tuesday May 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in food, Humour, lifestyle, Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Bbq, family, food, funny, women

image.jpegHorray!!  Summer has arrived.  Time to delve into the dark corners of the garage and haul out the bbq, (which gets little use in Ireland I might add).  Time for my man to shine.  I may be capable of turning out the odd gourmet delights in my role as head chef in our household but lets face it, how could I possibly know anything about barbequing, being a mere woman.  No, the barbeque is the mans domain, we all know that BBQ’s are powered not by coal, but testosterone.

imageFirst task, remove cobwebs and lift lid to reveal last years ash and grime. Remove any congealed crumbs or rotten meat the result of having  been stashed away last year in an unclean state. Obviously this is the woman’s responsibility.  Cleaning the BBQ is not manly work. A good half hour vigorous scrub of the grill and we are ready to rock.

image.jpegBuying the food, this is obviously the woman’s job.  Supermarket shopping is not manly work.  The meat may need preparation by the woman  first.  The woman may be assigned other lowly tasks, like tossing the salad, making dips, setting out cutlery, tables, napkins, glasses etc.  The meat should be set out on the tray beside the bbq in preparation for the manly spectacle of placing the meat on the grill.

imageDrinks in the form of beer should be provided to the man.   The woman should ensure that the fridge is stocked with cold beverages as obviously this is thirsty work for the man.

 

 

 

 

 

image.jpegAdmiration for the manly work being done.  While he dons his black apron, brandishing his tongs, pause for a moment to behold this vision of manly lovliness.

imageThe highly technical precision turning of the burgers, the careful examination of the sausage, all essential requirements to ensure even browning.  In the end to ensure no breaches of health and safety, he will make the decision to burn the bejasus out of everything.

 

 

image.jpegFinally, the momentous eating of the by now beyond recognition cremated meat.  Loud noises of approval all round.  The woman may announce loudly to everyone what a treasure her man is, to nods of approval all round.

 

I wonder who gets to clean up afterwards?

 

Signs you’ve given up on life

25 Wednesday May 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in Etiquette, Fashion, Humour, lifestyle, Midlife, Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

midlife, women

imageA picture of a burka clad Anne Robinson in today’s Daily Mail got me thinking.  Some days it’s easier to hide behind baggy clothes.

Maybe you didn’t bother to check in the mirror and failed to notice that you are wearing navy trousers and black shoes but that doesn’t mean that you’ve completely given up on life.  No need to sound the full ‘I’m having a mental breakdown’ klaxon just yet.   A minor blip.  You may allow your crown to slip occasionally, but beware fellow Goddesses, it may be the start of the slide into decrepitude.

If you seek acceptance into polite society you must heed the warning signs.  If you fail more than two of the following tests, you are definitely displaying signs that you’ve given up on life.  You may need therapy to restore order.

imageWearing elasticated trousers.  This shows a complete disregard for society in general.  While ‘Thanksgiving pants’ as worn by Joey in Friends, may be permitted as a vehicle for comedy but in real life are an absolute no no.  Equally, referring to trousers as ‘relaxed fit’ or ‘slacks’, a serious crime against good taste.  If you wear tracksuit bottoms when not exercising, don’t bother with therapy, go straight to the asylum.  Perhaps it might be an idea to keep an outfit on standby, maybe some sort of bee keeping ensemble, it would be preferable to tracksuits.  Anne Robinson’s would do well to heed my advice.

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You bump into someone you haven’t seen for some time and  they proceed to tell you about the fabulous cocktail parties they’ve been and their last holiday in the Cinque Terre.   They ask you ‘What have you been up to’ and you can’t be bothered lying.  You realise that you haven’t been anywhere.  My advice, just say ‘Oh, the usual, extreme ironing, can’t get enough of it’.

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You try to lift your mood with a spot of retail therapy resulting in unwanted purchases.  Dust mop slippers.  I rest my case.

 

 

 

 

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Procrastination.  If this is your mantra “Hard work pays off but procrastination pays off now”.

 

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Brandishing a Primark bag.  By all means shop to your hearts content here but don’t flaunt it.  Standards must be maintained at all times. At least have the good sense to conceal it in a Brown Thomas bag.

 

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You fall asleep anywhere.

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You only apply nail polish to your big toe, the others won’t be seen.

 

 

 

 

 

imageYou haven’t seen your bedroom floor in over 3 months due to an assortment of clothes, mugs, books and magazines strewn around. This far exceeds the normal realms of messy.  Nothing screams ‘Look at me, I’m celebate ’  more than going to sleep under a pile of magazines and a laptop.

 

 

 

 

imageWellies.  Only wear if you are a farmer.  Even posh Hunter wellies ceased to be acceptable in 1981 when Prince Charles was snapped wearing them.

 

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Your handbag is a health hazard.  It’s stuffed with tissues, receipts and chewing gum with bits of grit stuck to it.  Your purse smells of the cheese sandwich which you bought two days ago and forgot about.

 

 

You choose vodka

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If you fail the test, you are not the only one suffering from your descent into the abyss,  the mental scars extend to your pooch.

This is a dog who fully understands and supports your ‘I’ve given up on life’ behaviour.

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A Tale of Two Cocktails..Italian Style

21 Saturday May 2016

Posted by niftyfiftyshades in Drink, food, lifestyle, Travel, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

cocktails, family, Italy, wedding

Fotografo-Titignano_018Is there anything quite as divine as Italian everything..Italian food, Italian scenery, Italian weather.. Italian fashion..Italian wine.

titignano1I’m still high on from spending a few days living la dolce vita where I combined all the above.  My fabulous nephew and his beautiful bride tied the knot in the little fairytale village of Titignano in the hills just north of Rome.  I’d run out of superlatives if I tried to describe this magical setting, so instead let me tell you a tale of two cocktails (or three, or was it four?)

Prior to this trip my idea of an Italian meal was typical, pizza, pasta and if being pretentious, tiramisu for dessert.  A virgin to the authentic experience of eating twenty courses in one sitting,  I wouldn’t have believed I was capable, but then I’d never tasted the real deal..

image.jpegSeated at our tables for the wedding feast (and it was a feast), we noted the menu seemed to have no less than five courses, each course four or five options, all delicious yummy sounding mouth watering treats for the palate, what to choose?.  Before the waiter came to take orders, our first course arrived.  Bruschetta, like I’ve never tasted before..

A cocktail bar brought in from Rome was up and running.  At our table Molly, who we later christened our ‘waitress at a cocktail bar’ announced that our table was ‘Cocktail Central’.   Raspberry Bellini’s were the order of the day, so not wanting to feel left out we joined in the Bellini frenzy.  I’d already had prosecco so not mixing the grape.. All good.    Next up was a selection of cured meats..yum, followed by cheese quiche.  It was then that the penny dropped, no need to ponder what to choose, we were eating EVERYTHING on the menu…

Creamy risotto with asparagus and porcini mushrooms followed by pappardelle in wild boar sauce.  Maybe it was time to try sticking to The Morsel Diet.  You can eat whatever you want but only a morsel.. Mariah Carey no less is a great proponent of the Morsel Diet… Only problem, the food was too scrumptious to leave any..

oldfashionedMolly informed us that an Old Fashioned was the last word in cocktails.  A concoction of whiskey, sugar and bitters.  My better half volunteered to sample one, take one for the team.  He never drinks cocktails…his mantra  ‘thou shalt drink only manly pints of Guinness’ was out the window.

darkandstormyAnd the food kept coming.  Goose, wild boar..each offering more tempting than the last.  Thank God I’d decided against wearing Spanx.  Plenty of room for expansion..… bring it on.  If someone is kind enough to invite you to join in their special day, isn’t it your duty to let your hair down, overindulge, have an amazing time?  Never let it be said I’d shirk my duty..

How could I resist the heavenly desserts (note I used the plural).  These works of art weren’t even on the menu.. OMG I’m going to be rolled home.

Now that the meal was over, back to Cocktail Central.   Molly with a finger on the pulse of the latest cocktail trends, announced that the Old Fashioned was old hat. Whisperings of a new cocktail that was sweeping the streets of Titignano reached us..a ‘Dark and Stormy’.. rum, ginger ale, black pepper??  Himself was first to offer his services again as chief sampler.

What to do when you overindulge?  Time to work off all that food..

 

I chose.. Chaka Kahn.. I’m every woman…

It’s amazing how that fifth cocktail turns you into the best dancer

EVER…

 

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