Sunday, May 5, 2013
The morning after my birthday we did a bit of lounging around. It was a Sunday, which means something about training hours in retail stores, essentially meaning that they were open for less hours so they were normally crowded. Steph and I snuck off to Tesco around lunch time to buy something or other. While there, we decided that the Brits should be formally introduced to the Mexican holiday embraced by their neighbors to the North.
Since we didn’t quite have time to gather all of the necessities for a full meal, we substituted. We bought a Pinata donkey we lovingly dubbed Antonio along with LOTS of candy to stuff him with! We also bought some margarita mix! After we got back to the house we sat outside for a good while with Tracey’s mom and brother, who I’m nearly sure was called Harry.
The gents drank their brews and puffed on their cigars for a bit, while Tracey ran all around making sure dinner was coming along fine. Annabelle’s great grandmother fawned over her and we chatted about North England and how lovely it is. I swear, I love Tracey’s mom, whose given name I don’t actually know, because I called her ma’am. She was just the perfect picture of what I would imagine Tracey’s mom to be. She was a spitfire and kept Steph and I entertained with stories of Tracey getting into trouble at the instruction of her older brothers!
At one point she asked me if I was feeling broody. I though it really odd, since I had been sitting there chatting with her quite happily and didn’t feel as if I had been brooding at all. I must have looked as confused as I felt. We just kind of looked at each other for a spell: me – not having a clue what she was talking about, her – wondering why this silly girl was looking at her as if she had just sprouted a second head. Steph mercifully intervened and explained for me.
Apparently, feeling broody means having the baby itch. So to that, the answer was a firm NO. I loveeee babies, and I love my Nannerbelle more than most, but I have no desire to have one at the moment. If she asked me in a year or two she might get a different answer. Might.
We had burgers and ‘jacket taters’ (baked potatoes) and garlic bread for dinner. Odd combination but freaking YUMMY. I LOVE the differences between the English and us Yanks. My entire life baked potatoes have been topped with butter, and sour cream… if you were fortunate there may also be cheese, bacon pieces and chives. Imagine my world being shaken to pieces when I see bakers loaded with coleslaw and beans in tomato sauce. Two separate potatoes, by the way. Had I not already fixed mine with butter and salt and pepper, I might have been adventurous. It rocked my world. Seriously.
Anyway, after dinner, we strung Antonio up on the clothesline and started swinging away with a fire poker, which made me a little nervous. Valiant effort of Steph and I aside, James was the one whose golden swing provided a bounty of chocolate for all. We never did get around to making margaritas. I’m assuming the bottle of ready to drink stuff is still on top of Steph and James’ cabinet.
Steph and I engaged in some shenanigans in the back garden for a bit after everyone else went in. I won’t disclose our activities because they were silly, girlish things and it might tarnish my very serious and adult-like reputation. (don’t let that sarcasm drip on to your keyboard… might cause damage.)
Monday, May 6, 2013
Tracey made us an INCREDIBLE full English spread for breakfast the next morning. I was pretty repulsed by English breakfast food two years ago when AshBash and I first jetted off to explore the UK and Ireland. It just seemed incohesive. Also, at that point in my life as an adult, I refused to try ANY new food. Fast forward a few years and I love to explore new food and places.
A standard full English breakfast consists of back bacon, sausages, eggs over-easy, black pudding, fried mushrooms, fried tomatoes, potato cakes, beans in tomato sauce and toast. I will not eat mushrooms, ever, and we didn’t have black pudding. Otherwise, I dominated the entire plate. I have developed an affinity for beans on toast.
After breakfast we packed up the car and started the drive from Belton back to London. Annabelle slept a bit. We stopped and got ice cream. I had Magnum, finally, and to be honest it’s okay. Graeter’s is WAY better. Let’s not get to talking about Graeter’s though.
When we got home, Steph made buttery, Ritz cracker chicken, mac and cheese and mushy peas. The chicken was FAB and buttery and just everything I’ve been missing since this weight loss journey. It was a long drive so we were all pretty tired. So we crashed pretty early.
On a side note:
Weightwatchers Update from 6/13/13: [[[25.2lbs]]]! That’s right! 25.2 down, 22.8 more to go!