Cosé with the rosé

It was the Monks Kirby office party today. After I'd finished all my work I nipped into the loos to glitz and glam. Lexie and Sam also had lots of grooming to do before they were ready so I thought there was probs time for a few bubbles before we reconvened in the cottage foyer.

After a few too many glasses of fizzy pink the party really got into full swing.. Lexie started telling us inappropriate stories about chasing rabbits and that time he dismembered a vole.

Luckily our manager C had made us a nice vegetable lasagne to soak it all up.

I whip my hair back and forth

So there I was at Roast and Sashy's housewarming fending off teasing like snowballs when suddenly I felt a little drip drip drip.. No, it was not the effect of some tall dark stranger bearing down on me. Chance would be a fine thing with all those gays around. Anyway, it was hot red liquid dripping stickily down my shoulders.

OOh you're bleeding, everyone screamed, and recoiled. Oh no, it's just mulled wine. Silly me had been leaning so intently into Chris' conversation that my hair had sponged up my glass.

Luckily/unluckily, Juliet was around to lick the entire glass off me.

The real silver lining was that the dried mulled wine made my hair curl up at the ends really nicely. Styled itself almost better than that time Peaches threw a Bacardi Breezer over my head at Juice.

Like a bowlful of jelly

Now I'm not getting my quivers from my many dates I have to seek out nervous satisfaction in the production of other delicate scenarios. Wibbly wobbly jelly seems to emulate the feeling in my long, perfectly calved, suggestive long sock clad legs, on a first meeting.

Dave and I have discussed at length this concept of 'exquisite torture.' I won't go into details as you're either highly strung enough to feel it or you're not. The latter should go off and eat some cucumber or cold cuts of meat. Emos, please pull up a chair and learn how to make mulled wine jelly with vanilla cream.

Firstly imagine me sitting in a bath of anxiety (quite like the one I have to soak the 12 leaves of gelatin in for four minutes) getting abuse from all directions about how I won't be able to do it. But someone will want to go out with me eventually! Oh sorry, that's dating. I mean, of course I can handle gelatin this year without it seeming like there's chunks of meat in the white choc cheesecake.

Anyway, after wetting the gelatin you soak it in a pan of hot red wine, orange juice, cinnamon, cloves, and lemon peel. Strain, pour into your vessels, set for four hours. When you're ready whip up some cream with vanilla essence and caster sugar, and top.

MMMm. My guests were a little nervous given my past pudding history (broccoli mince pies? Chocolate batter scraped off mine and Roast's chests? Anyone?) but after swallowing their trepidation they gobbled up the jellies.

Verdict: They were a little booozy but slunk down everyone's throats a treat. Unlike the mince pies I'd accidentally made with salty bread flour. Can't have it all.

First class ticket to Crimewatch

When I arrived at Euston on Thursday I was directed with Rhapsody to the bike coach at the very front of a long long train. On arrival at the front it became quickly clear that this was not the bike coach but first class. Unforch I only had an insufficient four minutes to jet back up to the top so was stranded in first class, branded..a fool (imagine Danny Zuko singing that and you'll summon up the desolation I was feeling).

As I was wailing on the phone to Mum about the prospect of three hours propping Rhapsody up against the first class toilets an extremely drunk wobbly man bore down on me. "Sorry Mum, I have to go, this drunk man wants to talk to me". I imagine this gave her the same queasy feeling as when Ro said to her on the phone, "aaargghh i've got to go, we're going to crash into another car" and then her phone sailed into the air and she forgot to ring Mum back until later.

The drunk man thought I was excellent sport so gave me a spare first class ticket so I could sit down and talk to him the whole way. On the plus side I got to sit in a very roomy comfortable area with the dutiful attentions of the train manager to my every whim, two free duck wraps, two free beers, a free tea, two free handmade cranberry and carrot cakes, free crisps, and a free bottle of wine. But the latter was actually purchased for me by my drunk crusader as the complimentary wine had been officially ceased due to his rowdiness. On the down side I had to spend three hours counselling him about his alcoholism and repeating my name every five minutes.

LGBTV night.

I think this will make most hot blooded carnivores gasp but I chose a Christmas dinner to invite round 8 vegelezzas to eat me out (of house and home). Well, I do believe in equality for all.

After wracking my brains for days over what to cook for them I got C to give me some tips. She loves all that. She suggested the rich mushroom pie Nige had posted in a recent Observer magazine. The filling is four types of mushroom and spinach. Thought they'd gobble that straight up so better do some sides of roast carrots, parsnips, potatoes, sprouts, and sticky red wine red cabbage. Which by the way was so good that Harrie exclaimed that it was the first time she'd ever liked cabbage.

So, let me tell the story of this special night.

I raced home from work for six and immediately set to work peeling and chopping. I breathed a sigh of relief when Sparkles arrived soon after, a sigh which was justified when he took over and did most of my work. He does a really nice line in thinly sliced parnsip chippies, and sprouts cut just like his Mum does them. Then Dani and Kate were welcomed into doing the pastry for the pie. Shortly after Harrie and Lizzy B were lovingly ushered in and set to work making mince pies, whilst Eleanor brewed the mulled wine. Nice to make cooking seem like a party game don't you think?

After a merry table time we tumbled upstairs to the sitting room to play Cranium amid a tangle of low hanging shiny streamers. They were a charitable donation from Blue Granny's house, along with super large cinnamon sticks and star anise given to Granny by her Thai cleaner. Grampa had complained about all three so they were passed on to the needy.

Then I chucked them all out into the night and in a cloud of happiness went to bed.

The End.

"Camel is very (tucked) in"

Being one with an eye for the latest trends I was pleased to purchase a camel coloured high waisted knitted pair of shorts the other day. Imagine my dismay then when I shimmied in and they shimmied up! They were very snug..

However, I was glad that I was channelling camel toe when I had to use all the liquid reserves in my hump to stay hydrated until 10pm when dinner was finally served! I think anyone else would have fallen at the wayside but camels can withstand a massive amount of dehydration which allow them to survive not only between watering holes, but sometimes between seasons!

Alex's chicken and vegetable soup was certainly worth the wait. I sent the shorts back, but not my dinner.

If you want the recipe ask him. xxxxxxxx