royal thai

There's a restaurant in a village nearby call the Royal Thai.  No idea why it's call that because all the food tastes like it came straight from Delhi via Goa on it's way to Jaipur to me, but that's neither here nor there.  Apparently, it's supposed to be a Thai restaurant. 

Anyway, back to what I'm here to tell/show you.

We go there every so often because they make this dish I love more than some of my relatives.  It's DELISH.  The last time we went, for some odd reason (blogging), I decided to take my camera (lifeline).  Here are a few photos of the experience.

Don't pretend you haven't been wondering what the food I eat at restaurants looks like.  I know you were.

Here's what we had for an appetizer.  (Incidentally, if given the choice between appetizer or dessert, I'd most likely go with appetizer, as I did on this night.  What would you choose?  Am I odd?)  The thing on the left is Chicken Satay for the Bear and on the right is a corn cake thingamy for me.  What?  You people know I'm bad with naming stuff.

While we were waiting for this deliciousness to arrive, I glanced to my right and saw this guy.

Then.

THEN.

My food came.  To understate the event, they changed the format of the presentation.

To look like a bird.

MY FOOD LOOKED LIKE A BIRD.

"Yes, I'll have number eighteen on the vegetarian menu.  Oh, and can you make that look like some sort of animal?  That'd be great.  Thanks so much."

I loved it!  It was one of those things where you think to yourself, "Why didn't I bring my camera?"  except I DID.   Isn't it cute?  It had retained all of it's yumminess and gained some pizzazz.

Just so you know, I ate almost that whole thing.  I think I left part of a pineapple wing and maybe a bit of cucumber tail.  But I definitely ate the chili pepper beak. 

So glad I had my camera with me. 

thankful thanksgiving thursday

As today is Thanksgiving Day, it's Thankful Thursday over at Jenny's place in lieu of Alphabe-Thursday.  So I shall do as the Romans do and tell you what I am thankful for.  There will be pictures.

First and foremost, I am thankful that these wonderful people are my parents.  I love them dearly and feel lucky I was born to them.  If we could all be so lucky.  (But we can't so don't ask me if you can have them.  They're MINE.  I guess they still need to work on teaching me about sharing.)

This is the day of the year I miss them most. 

Next, I am very grateful to have this nut as my co-pilot.  How could you not love a cuddly teddy [the] Bear?

If you can't love someone who will pose for hours on end with you and your three furry children for Christmas card photos, then you're made of stone.  Since I'm made of sugar and spice and everything nice, I do not fall into that category.

I'm also very glad to be this gorgeous creature's foster mommy.  She is the most wonderful dog I've ever encountered.  Loving, obedient, beautiful, graceful and so sweet she'll give you cavities.  She's going to be a brilliant guide dog to some lucky person someday and I'm thankful that I not only got to be part of her amazing life, but also that I could do this for someone who needs her. 

And how could I not mention my little chocolate drop?  My pillow companion (though she'd take the whole thing if I didn't insist that my head be on there), my best furry friend, the hero to my side kick, the donut to my coffee.  I love her so much. 

And last but definitely not least (although the diet is working), our lovely kitten.  I'm thankful that we have the best cat to trod the Earth - past, present or future.  I'm not really a cat person but thankfully, she has changed my mind. 

I suppose I could have just said, "I'm thankful for my family" and had done with it, but then you wouldn't have had to slog through all of those photos and that wouldn't have been nearly as fun for ME.

As we part until my next post, here are some other things I'm thankful for:

- I don't have to be anywhere even in the vacinity of the United States on black Friday.
- That the peanut butter fudge I made today is simply divine, if I do say so myself.
- My bloggy friends for being funny because I need funny.  Especially the ones who do not have word verification.  Thank you.
- Books.  I've had a week that suggest my book intake might suddenly spike in the near future.
- Music.  I need it more than it needs me, but that's okay.  It maintains me well.  (Even though I'm still a piano orphan. *sniff*)
- The fact that talking to Hank, emailing my friend Liz and writing snail mail letters to Kat always makes me smile.  They are my best connections to my friends at home.
- The weather in the UK.  Yes, you read that right.  Hey - at least it's not in the 70's in late November.  Just saying.


I should just probably stop there because that list might go on forever.  I only have half that much time right now. 

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

hide and seek

For some reason, this song is in my head today.  I don't know what the meaning was intended to be but some of the passages are sticking with me after the last few days I've had.  Here are the lyrics.  There's also a video after the lyrics which is really just audio that I got from YouTube.  It was the best one I could find.  What do you think it's about?

where are we?
what the hell is going on?
the dust has only just begun to form
crop circles in the carpet
sinking feeling

spin me round again
and rub my eyes,
this can't be happening
when busy streets a mess with people
would stop to hold their heads heavy

hide and seek
trains and sewing machines
all those years
they were here first

oily marks appear on walls
where pleasure moments hung before the takeover,
the sweeping insensitivity of this still life

hide and seek
trains and sewing machines (oh, you won't catch me around here)
blood and tears (hearts)
they were here first

Mmmm whatcha say,
Mmm that you only meant well?
well of course you did
Mmmm whatcha say,
Mmmm that it's all for the best?
of course it is
Mmmm whatcha say?
Mmmm that it's just what we need
you decided this
whatcha say?
Mmmm what did she say?

ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs
speak no feeling no I don't believe you
you don't care a bit,
you don't care a bit

(hide and seek)
ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs

(hide and seek)
speak no feeling no i don't believe you
you don't care a bit,
you don't care a (you don't care a) bit

(hide and seek)
oh no, you don't care a bit
oh no, you don't care a bit

(hide and seek)
oh no, you don't care a bit
you don't care a bit
you don't care a bit

"Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap

sometimes things just happen (grieving, music and some official things about Singapore)

Sometimes things just happen.

And there’s nothing you can do about it.

Except call your friend Hank who will make you laugh so hard that tea comes out of your nose so that everything is again right with the universe. It’s the age-old tea-through-the-nose heal-all.

(That was a lot of hyphens. Seriously, look at how many hyphens that took. I wonder if they feel self-conscious because I pointed them out. Well, don’t look, you’ll make them feel worse.)

I got an email today from my piano teacher stating that he will not be teaching me anymore. It was sudden and not great news, as you may imagine. (I may have cried a little, which may or may not have frightened my toy poodle, which possibly could have made me feel even worse, but I can neither confirm nor deny.) I’m not entirely sure why, but he told me I was a good student and wished me all the best. Circumstances changed “unexpectedly” and now I need a new teacher.

“Unexpectedly” might have been an understatement. What’s more unexpected than unexpected? Uber-unexpected? Weapons-grade unexpected? Marital law on all expectations unexpected?

It was all going so well. I thought. Possibly because he said it was going really well just the other day.  Or perhaps because we've planned what my lessons will be until the end of the year, complete with me buying books this weekend, etc.

Anyway, these things happen. I’m sad about it but I’ll live. I hate when things like this happen when you’re not ready, it makes you unhappy and all you really want to do is click your heels together and say, “There’s no place like home” to make everything better (or the same) again.

CLICK, CLICK.

Nothing. Well, I’ll be looking for a new teacher in the coming weeks so if you have a spare, I have a vacancy. Also, I just wanted to let you know in case I suddenly start talking about my piano teacher and using words such as “her” and “she.” My (former) piano teacher may not be teaching me anymore, but I don’t want to spread rumors he’s had some sort of operation or lifestyle change.

I know, I’m nice like that.

The plus side of this otherwise rather dreary day is that I talked to my friend Hank. He made me laugh. He started down a ranting path about something and then said he was going to get off of his “shoebox.”  “Soapbox?” said I. “Oh, yeah. Whatever.” Then we proceeded to Wiki “soapbox” which then led to the Wikiing of Speaker’s Corner in Hyde Park, which then led to the official language of Singapore. I know I skipped some steps in there but you get the idea and I don’t have all day to explain how yelling your political views to passers-by is related to the native tongue of people in Asia.

I can’t do everything.

Anyway, I feel better than I did but overall I’m still sad. I feel like I’m grieving an important loss. It will be difficult to understand unless you’ve been there.

Now I’m going to go and pout and eat something big and terrible for me. Then I might whine a bit. Then if I run until it hurts my lungs, write some poems, tickle a puppy’s belly and watch pointless television for a few hours I will have run the gamut of grieving.

Thank you for your thoughts.

And if you feel like sending me a donut, thanks for that, too.


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a duel with yourself. who wins?

You know I can’t resist answering some questions about myself. I wonder why that is….hmmm. Narcissism? Boredom? Because it’s difficult to answer questions about other people? Because someone was nice enough to ask them? Maybe all of those things. This time that nice person is Jenners from Life…With Books. And here they are.  Then it's your turn.


1. What would you do on a perfect day? (No monetary restrictions…just imagine away.)

Gosh, this is tough. It would possibly start with sleeping in a little. (Then again, I like getting up early and having a full day ahead, too. Tough call.) I’d want to eat well all day – and I don’t mean health food. I’m talking sugar, fat, cholesterol, salt – you know stuff that tastes good, and lots of it. And champagne. I’d probably want to do something fun and sporty like squash or running on the beach. That reminds me, I’d like to be in the Maldives, too. I like the Maldives. Then I’d want to sit lazily on the beach in the warm breeze and eat until it hurts. Perhaps a massage. Ooo…and I’d like to see a play. But not in the Maldives because they’ve got beautiful beaches and fabulous sunsets but they are lacking in the entertainment department. So…I’ll need a personal jet. A fast one. Can I also have a piano nearby? I’d like to play the piano a little because it calms my nerves. How long is this day, again?


2. Have you ever stayed up for 24+ straight hours? Why?

Many times, but the times that I remember most are for College Night. My university didn’t have a football team (liberal arts college) so for homecoming we had College Night. Basically, the school divided into two teams each of which put on a full-length musical. The entire thing was written, performed, designed and organized by students. There were also sports such as volleyball, basketball, etc. The plays were the main event and at the end of the week/month the whole thing was judged and a winner declared. It was so very much fun – but it required many long hours and late nights. I remember counting waking hours into the low 40’s one night. I wish I had the stamina to do that now. Except I’m old.


3. Have you ever laughed so hard your stomach muscles and face hurt? What made you laugh that hard?

Yes, all the time. As much as I can. Hank always makes me laugh until I have tears in my eyes. My friend Liz makes me laugh because she thinks I’m funny. Of course, the Bear is funny. Once the Bear bumped his head on a cabinet door and proceeded to spew a stream of cute and funny British expletives that made me laugh for about fifteen straight minutes. The most recent thing that made me laugh really hard was at one of my piano lessons. My piano teacher was trying to illustrate a point, a change in a passage of music, and he really exaggerated it. It was extremely comical and it made me giggle. Then he laughed. Then I couldn’t stop. You know how it is. I had to pull myself together to finish the lesson but if I could’ve, I probably would have hurt myself laughing. Sometimes it’s the little silly stuff that gets me.


4. What is the earliest time in your life you can remember?

I have lots of flashes of memories and specific details I remember from being very young. I can remember scenes from a house my parents built before I was born. I can describe it perfectly and I have never seen photos or set foot in it since I was two years old. It really freaks my mother out when I recall details from being a baby. Most of it I’ve forgotten, but my strangely wired brain seems to hold on to bits.


Now I get to make up four questions for you. Here goes.

1. Two parts of you are dueling. What parts? Who wins?
2. Do you give inanimate objects names? Anything specific?
3. How restricted do you feel when blogging because you don’t want to upset someone (a specific person or group of people)? Do you really comb your posts for things that will offend or do you let it all hang out?
4. What do you like to read about most on other people’s blogs?

I’m supposed to tag some people to answer these, but as usual I hate that part. I’ll tag a few people, but definitely don’t feel you have to comply. Also, anyone I didn’t tag, feel free to answer. And for those of you who I tag all of the time...well, that's just what you get for knowing me.  (Plus I want to know what you'll say.)

Kat at Grass Stains
Tezzie at Not Always Picture Perfect
Mrs. Mayhem at Mothering Mayhem
Stef at Oops, There Goes My Mind
Jen at Hamster Central
Jen at Denton Sanitorium
April at april, maybe
Los at Plethora

i is for invierno

As we rapidly approach invierno (winter), I am very excited about the cold weather, the possibilty of snow and all of the slushy wellie-wearing messes that go with it.  I'm also a little sad to see otono (autumn) go.  I'll miss images like these passing me as I make my frostbitten run around the lake.

But I'll be glad to get these back out!

Welcome in invierno!

meeting sabrina

I’ve been meaning to write a quick post about this for a while and this Writer’s Workshop prompt has given me the catalyst.

5.) That one time you met your online friend in real life (was it everything you thought it would be?)

Sabrina from Bristolian Moments is, like me, an American expatriate living in the UK. When I found her blog I was delighted because she writes thoughtfully about many of the things I encounter as well. It seemed we had a lot in common. We’re approximately the same age, although we are from very different parts of the United States. Still, a displaced American is still a displaced American.

She and her hubby were in our town so we decided to meet for coffee. They were delightful. We had a nice long chat and it was good to hear a familiar voice and perspective. We only had a few hours as they were just passing through, but it was still good to put a real, living person with a blog. I completely forgot to take my camera (thirty lashes for me) so I don’t have any photos, but I promise to remedy that next time.

We are keeping in touch and we hope to see them again soon. We’ll probably be venturing into their part of the country after the holidays, so stay tuned in for more details and pictures!

There are so many people I've met online that I'd love to meet.  Maybe one day I'll get around to traveling the world and meeting them all.  Better yet, you can just all come to me.  Thanks.

cake, crackers, mango

It’s Tuesday. I’m feeling random again. So I thought I’d just tell you what’s in my head at the minute. Also, I’m going to participate in Random Tuesdays Thoughts and this time I’m going to get the link to work. See, just linked to it in that last sentence. I’m getting the hang of this whole “technology” and “Internet” thing. (Last week when I tried to link, I couldn’t. It was terrible. I lost sleep over it. I’m better now.)

Anyway. As if that wasn’t random enough…

I baked a cake yesterday. Here’s a photo of it. It’s a peach upside-down cake. It’s like pineapple upside-down cake except it’s made with…wait for it…cherries. Just kidding. It’s made with peaches. I made if from scratch and it’s maybe the most delicious thing ever to come out of our oven. That includes before I lived here. I mean, I love the Bear but a baker he is not. Bless him.

I’ve noticed that where I come from people will cover saying bad things by ending or beginning it with, “Bless him.” Or “Bless her heart.” Like, “He has a face like a bulldog, bless him.” And, “Bless her heart, she can’t drive to save her life.” It’s as though the fact that they are bestowing a blessing in there means it’s okay to insult someone. I condone this behavior because it’s a little bit nice and a little bit evil all at once.

I saw a box of Ritz crackers in the grocery store the other day and I was happy. Too happy. My brain said, “That’s a label I recognize. I want that. I WANT TEN BOXES OF THAT.” I was singing the praises of Nabisco and cradling the box like a child with a cuddly toy. The Bear gave me the ‘oh, no, not again’ face as I skipped to the cart with my new found treasure. Sadly, I can’t even remember if I liked Ritz crackers before moving to the UK or if it’s just a little bit of name brand home sickness. Who cares. I’ve got a box of Ritz crackers in the cupboard and all’s right with the world.

Getting back to the cake above, the Bear and I licked the batter bowl clean, raw eggs and all. Do not judge me. And do not even think about telling me that’s unsanitary and disgusting. If you do, I won’t like you anymore. However, if you’d like to tell me you do that too so that I feel better about getting salmonella poisoning, you may proceed. (Sorry to get a little defensive, but cake batter and I are close. We have an understanding – I defend it and it tastes delicious. It’s an arrangement that’s working out so far.)

Why are so many of my random thoughts about food today?

Speaking of food (yes, again), I feel much better about my “mangled mango” (as Jenners put it) debacle from last week. I never realized so many people ate mangoes* whole, right off the seed like an apple. I’m so proud of you all!! Thank you for letting me know that having to clean the sofa….and the dog afterwards isn’t that peculiar. And the carpet. And maybe my shirt…

(*Is the plural of "mango" really "mangoes"?  That's so odd.)

I’m going to go now. I’m all randomed out.

Okay I’m really not, but I’m going to spare you until next week. MAYBE.

Random Tuesday Thoughts

even in cusco (!)

Once upon a time the Bear and I were walking down the crowded streets of Cusco, Peru minding our own business.  Then I saw something.  Something...horrible...

Do you see it?  Just there?  No?  Look closer...

Do you see it now? 

GAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!

In PERU?  Is nowhere safe?  *stunned*

When he gives his passport to the Immigration Control officer, does he sing "I love you, you love me?"  (Incidentally, does that work?  Just askin'.)

I would have gotten a better close-up photo for you but you know how I feel about people dressed up in costumes with giant heads. (If you don't, read about that here.)  Also, Barney repulses me.  Stupid purple dinosaur stalking me.

When I first thought I saw him we were moving through the crowd at speed and I just came to an immediate and complete stop.  The following conversation ensued:

Me: "It can't be."
Bear: "What?"
Me: *stunned silence*
Bear: "What?  WHAT?"
Me: (trying to see around the crowd) "Really?  Here?  Surely not.."
Bear: "What the bloody hell are you talking about?"
Me: "It's him.  I don't FREAKIN' BELIEVE IT."
Bear: (grabbing me by my shoulders in preparation for a good shake) "Who, Paige?  WHO? Tell me!"
Me: (quietly) "Barney."
Bear: (letting me go to scratch his head, make a funny face and look around) "Who's Barney?"
Me: (to myself) "Camera.  Now."
Bear: (now yelling pretty loudly) "STOP.  TELL ME WHO BARNEY IS.  WHO IS BARNEY?!"
Me: (snapping back into reality a little) "Why are you yelling?"
Bear: (looks at me with big, round eyes) "Who.  Is.  Barney.  Just answer the question."
Me. "What do you mean, 'Who's Barney?' That purple dinosaur.  You've never heard of Barney?"
Bear: "Clearly I have not."
Me:  "I need to get photos for my blog. Except don't get too far away from me because I don't want it to talk to me."
Bear: (dragging me away) "Let's go."
Me: (mumbling under my breath) "I can't believe it's friggin' Barney..."

Funny thing - no one so much as looked at the spectacle we caused while having that conversation. 

I suppose that according to the fact that the Bear has never heard of him, England is the only place safe from the big purple pain in the posterior.

Who knew.

death by duck

This little fella is so cute, isn't he?  Posing for me on the waterfall like a good little birdie.  Aww.

Right after this he came at me more like a bat out of the proverbial.  Scared the crap out of me. 

Yeah.  I ran from a duck.  Go ahead and make your fun.

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h is for hair and help

I have a dilemma.  I really want (need) to get my hair cut.  It's really long - too long - and it's time.  The thing is, I've been contemplating a new do.  I'm thinking of going shorter, like shoulder length.  Right now, it's past my waist.

I like my long hair but for all the wrong reasons.  I hide behind it because it's distracting.  It's one of the first things people notice about me, which takes the pressure off other things.  Not sure when I developed that outlook, but here we are. 

{I don't have a recent picture of how long it is now.  It's well past my waist now. 

But as you can see, even when it's styled, it's still fuzzy.}

I was blessed with my mother's thick, dark mane.  The color and texture seem to suit my face - as though mother nature intended it to be that way or something.  But it's neither curly nor straight.  I tend to describe it as "bumpy."  It's almost constantly frizzy and if you so much as mention moisture in a conversation it's all over, making it difficult to maintain any style. I often wear it in an updo to keep from having to deal with it.
 

{My mom's hair is much straighter and darker than mine.}

The longer it gets the heavier it gets (and it's quite heavy), which means the flatter it gets.  It just sort of hangs there.  I chopped it off to my shoulders several years ago and loved it.  It styled much better, was much more curly (in a good way) and it didn't take as long to dry.  I did miss the length but the new style was fun for a while.  The second time I did it I thought I'd feel the same.  I cried for weeks.

I feel as though I should take the plunge and cut it off again.  I'm just not sure.  I'm scared I'll miss it.  That it will look terrible.  Plus, I don't want to hear the 1,358 people who are going to gasp and say, "WHY DID YOU CUT IT ALL OFF??"  Because they will come.  They always do.

{Always pulled back. Pitiful.}

So my question is - should I risk it, laugh in the face of my fears, inhibitions and insecurities or should I keep my long hair that I'm familiar with and very much love?  And another thing - fringe (bangs) or no fringe?

{No fringe} 

{No fringe} 

{Fringe.  And some 80's sunglasses. 

Also, the picture of me above in the green striped top has fringe.}

HELP ME.

confessions

I’ve been thinking for a while now that I should start a series of posts about my confessions (because I often have thoughts such as, "The Internet doesn't think I'm strange enough.  Must work on that today." Now I have an excuse: a Writer’s Workshop prompt! It’s been a while since I did one of these, so I’m going to participate this week. Here’s the prompt:

2.) What are your confessions?

Sometimes the prompts are just irresistible, aren’t they?

Anyway, here are a few of my confessions.


* MANGO: One time I had a whole mango in the fridge so I decided to cut it up, eat some of it and then put the rest back in the fridge for a salad or something later. I peeled it and started to chop but an overwhelming urge came over me and I just started taking bites out of it like an apple. I ate the whole thing. Mango juice was everywhere – on me, the table, the dog. And I scraped the seed clean with my teeth. I’m sure I looked like a wild animal when it was over. IT WAS AWESOME.

* HOUSEWORK: I usually do housework in my underwear. No idea why, but there you go.

* TRIVIA: Quiz shows are my guilty pleasure. Anything trivia. I love a good trivia question or twelve. I’m not good at it, mind you, but I love them.

* SHOWER: I sometimes shower just for warmth. It’s cold here right now and if the heat is turned down too low waiting for it to warm the house up sufficiently takes too long for someone who has zero patience. Wasteful? Maybe. Effective? Definitely.

* FRIENDS: It sometimes takes me a few minutes to recognize a few of my friends on Facebook. There are more that 300 people on there and some of them I haven’t seen in years. And sometimes their profile picture is of a skull or a cat’s tail or something.

* CROCS: I own three pairs of Crocs. Yes, I’m aware that they are ugly – but they are comfy. AND you can clean them with bleach. Anything you can clean with bleach is okay in my book. Because germs are not our friends – especially shoe germs.



Yes.  I'm just going to stop now.

s'mores! (follow-up from yesterday)

In response to yesterday's post Stef and Anita said the bonfire photos made them crave s'mores.  First of all, thanks a lot because now I'm craving s'mores.  See what you've done. 

Secondly, H, who happens to be British, asked what s'mores were.  I repressed my instinct to say, "YOU'VE NEVER HAD S'MORES??" because I remembered that I've had to educate many a Briton about the joys of the delicacy. 

Basically, you roast a marshmallow over an open fire until it's melty, gooey and soft and then smash it between two graham crackers, along with a chuck of chocolate. Since there are no graham crackers in England that I've found (I know - you're feeling pretty sorry for me right now) I use rich tea biscuits or digestives. 

That's it.  Simple deliciousness.

You can also make them in the microwave if you're desperate and it's raining because you live in England. 

I'd post some pictures but I've never had any survive long enough for a shutter to catch them.  Here's a picture of one that I didn't take, however. 

{image here}

Now I bet you're REALLY craving s'mores. 


*Today I'm linking to Communal Global, like several other people from around the world!

sparklers! (and bonfire night)

Sparklers are one of those things that me very happy.  They are fun and bright and they remind me of Independence Day.  Here in lovely England, we use them on Bonfire Night.  This year the holiday fell on Friday night which means, apparently, that we have to celebrate on Saturday and Sunday instead.  Not sure why, but there you go.  So we've celebrated Bonfire Night all weekend.  We started with our own little bonfire and some sparklers.  YAY!

First of all, there are always these:

Then our own little bonfire in the back garden, with a special appearance from our cat.

On Sunday we went to the Bonfire Night fun fair and fireworks display.

There were lots of rides, but we just walked around and looked at them.  We're old, you know.

This guy doesn't look too sure, either...

You could get some healthy snacks...

...and win a giant stuffed banana.  Who doesn't want a giant stuffed banana?  No one, that's who. 

Then we watched the fireworks display.

Well, we may be old, but we're not too old for cotton candy. 

A very fun night!