To make Pastelles, a traditional Trini/Venezuelan Christmas dish, you need masses of banana leaves to wrap the cornmeal and meat mixture in. We have masses of banana trees, so every year we get requests for them. Usually, Sean runs out and cuts them down but he has been flying non-stop so I did not want to nag him. I trudged into the bushes myself, and ended up covered with banana plant sap, fire ant bites and banana leaves that were TOO SMALL so Sean still had to go and cut a few more when he got home.
I went to the bank. It was a MAD HOUSE. Getting there in the Chaguanas traffic was no fun. I waited for a while for my turn, calculated that my number would be called in infinity minutes, and thought I would run upstairs to make sure that sean's company had actually sent his salary like they said they did. Because they frequently don't.
They hadn't. So I called them, and they pretended not to know anything about it. I hate those stupid girls. Apparently, contractors are supposed to work all hours for free? Including Christmas day? How can you announce that a person has to work Christmas day, and then not bother to pay them? Is it just too much to trouble your daft little heads about?
I nearly drove to the accounts office and barged in there with my rolling-pin, screaming "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, STUPID BITCHES??" But that would not have been very nice, so instead I called Ops and told them to let Sean know ASAP that his invoice had disappeared again. So HE could barge into someone's office and yell and carry on in the above manner.
So, I guess I will be going BACK to the bank in a couple of days. What fun!
Sean has not flown on Christmas day for about 4 or 5 years, so I guess it is time we took a turn again. We will work around it! We've been lucky, but hey, SOMEONE has to do it.
My 9-year-old has moved out. YAY! He has Music Festival rehearsals this week in town, and he and the other accompanying musician, Christopher, were begged to come to the choir rehearsal because people, that choir needs all the help they can get. Chas did a diva "They are hopeless! I give up! I am not spending my Christmas Holidays AT SCHOOL!" But when he realised that it would involve spending the night skateboarding at Christopher's house, (Christopher has a ramp) and going to the movies, and generally not being around his brothers, he figured it would be okay. Plus I made it clear that he had NO CHOICE. He had made a commitment, and he had to stick to it. Music festival is in February.
Yesterday, I was going to pick Chas up and bring him home, and I got a message that went, "Not coming home. Need skateboard. And more clothes." So I dropped the clothes, made sure he was not being locked in a dungeon and starved, and came back home. He is having a great time. Christopher's parents said, and I QUOTE: "What a pleasant, polite, helpful child! Chas is welcome to stay for as long as he likes." After Christmas, Christopher will come and stay here for a while.
My remaining two children spent the afternoon being nasty to one another, probably because of staying up too late the night before, so I put them to bed at 6.00 when I had had enough. "But it's holidays! That's not FAIR! You are so MEAN!" they found solidarity in hating their evil mother, and this morning they are playing Uno like best friends.
Chickens are not very smart animals. Their free-range eggs are yummy, and they stew up nice if you cook them for a whole day, but other that that, they are useless. Okay, they eat bugs. But. I hate them. Because, under our house there is a place where chickens go when they are not feeling well. Then they die, and you CANNOT get them out. You just have to live with the stench of rotting chicken for weeks, until the maggots have done their job. So. We went to great pains to block off our underneath-of-house, to prevent this ever happening again. We have a gate with a lock, so that humans can go under to check the water pump, and storage of paint cans and stuff. No chicken could ever open that lock. You need FINGERS people! And yet, frequently, the door is found to be hanging open and there are several chickens way up where you will never reach them. They like to lay their eggs there and then wait till they are rotten and break them. Just for fun.
By the time I had discovered the chickens yesterday, I needed to vent my spleen of the frustrations of the day. I got a hose, crawled way up as far as I could, and let loose a torrent of water and curses upon the idiot birds. I spent a memorable 10 minutes trying to get them to LEAVE through the OPEN GATE, but that was so complicated for their tiny brains to process, they ended up collapsing, damp, in a heap behind the water pump. Three feet away from the door. I staggered over, bent double, with cobwebs in my hair, and chucked the offending birds out. I locked the door. They spent the rest of the afternoon clucking plaintively, so I pelted them with rocks.
I am going to put a padlock and chain on that gate, and ONLY I will have a key.
Obviously, I did not spend my day cleaning my house, so naturally my in-laws came by to visit and drop off stuff. I had promised my mother-in-law, Fatima, that I would cook a ham for her husband, because she is Muslim, and doesn't even eat the stuff. I am now the official cooker of pig in the family, which is fine. Anyway, we sat around in my messy house, (just dump that stuff on the floor, so you can sit down!) and Mum and Dad came over too, through the rain. It was nice. We ate pastelles.
It is nearly eight o'clock in the morning, and Sam and Max have jumped into my bed and are doing headstands. I suppose they will be wanting breakfast. The cat is not impressed. Time for a snuggle!
I went to the bank. It was a MAD HOUSE. Getting there in the Chaguanas traffic was no fun. I waited for a while for my turn, calculated that my number would be called in infinity minutes, and thought I would run upstairs to make sure that sean's company had actually sent his salary like they said they did. Because they frequently don't.
They hadn't. So I called them, and they pretended not to know anything about it. I hate those stupid girls. Apparently, contractors are supposed to work all hours for free? Including Christmas day? How can you announce that a person has to work Christmas day, and then not bother to pay them? Is it just too much to trouble your daft little heads about?
I nearly drove to the accounts office and barged in there with my rolling-pin, screaming "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, STUPID BITCHES??" But that would not have been very nice, so instead I called Ops and told them to let Sean know ASAP that his invoice had disappeared again. So HE could barge into someone's office and yell and carry on in the above manner.
So, I guess I will be going BACK to the bank in a couple of days. What fun!
Sean has not flown on Christmas day for about 4 or 5 years, so I guess it is time we took a turn again. We will work around it! We've been lucky, but hey, SOMEONE has to do it.
My 9-year-old has moved out. YAY! He has Music Festival rehearsals this week in town, and he and the other accompanying musician, Christopher, were begged to come to the choir rehearsal because people, that choir needs all the help they can get. Chas did a diva "They are hopeless! I give up! I am not spending my Christmas Holidays AT SCHOOL!" But when he realised that it would involve spending the night skateboarding at Christopher's house, (Christopher has a ramp) and going to the movies, and generally not being around his brothers, he figured it would be okay. Plus I made it clear that he had NO CHOICE. He had made a commitment, and he had to stick to it. Music festival is in February.
Yesterday, I was going to pick Chas up and bring him home, and I got a message that went, "Not coming home. Need skateboard. And more clothes." So I dropped the clothes, made sure he was not being locked in a dungeon and starved, and came back home. He is having a great time. Christopher's parents said, and I QUOTE: "What a pleasant, polite, helpful child! Chas is welcome to stay for as long as he likes." After Christmas, Christopher will come and stay here for a while.
My remaining two children spent the afternoon being nasty to one another, probably because of staying up too late the night before, so I put them to bed at 6.00 when I had had enough. "But it's holidays! That's not FAIR! You are so MEAN!" they found solidarity in hating their evil mother, and this morning they are playing Uno like best friends.
Chickens are not very smart animals. Their free-range eggs are yummy, and they stew up nice if you cook them for a whole day, but other that that, they are useless. Okay, they eat bugs. But. I hate them. Because, under our house there is a place where chickens go when they are not feeling well. Then they die, and you CANNOT get them out. You just have to live with the stench of rotting chicken for weeks, until the maggots have done their job. So. We went to great pains to block off our underneath-of-house, to prevent this ever happening again. We have a gate with a lock, so that humans can go under to check the water pump, and storage of paint cans and stuff. No chicken could ever open that lock. You need FINGERS people! And yet, frequently, the door is found to be hanging open and there are several chickens way up where you will never reach them. They like to lay their eggs there and then wait till they are rotten and break them. Just for fun.
By the time I had discovered the chickens yesterday, I needed to vent my spleen of the frustrations of the day. I got a hose, crawled way up as far as I could, and let loose a torrent of water and curses upon the idiot birds. I spent a memorable 10 minutes trying to get them to LEAVE through the OPEN GATE, but that was so complicated for their tiny brains to process, they ended up collapsing, damp, in a heap behind the water pump. Three feet away from the door. I staggered over, bent double, with cobwebs in my hair, and chucked the offending birds out. I locked the door. They spent the rest of the afternoon clucking plaintively, so I pelted them with rocks.
I am going to put a padlock and chain on that gate, and ONLY I will have a key.
Obviously, I did not spend my day cleaning my house, so naturally my in-laws came by to visit and drop off stuff. I had promised my mother-in-law, Fatima, that I would cook a ham for her husband, because she is Muslim, and doesn't even eat the stuff. I am now the official cooker of pig in the family, which is fine. Anyway, we sat around in my messy house, (just dump that stuff on the floor, so you can sit down!) and Mum and Dad came over too, through the rain. It was nice. We ate pastelles.
It is nearly eight o'clock in the morning, and Sam and Max have jumped into my bed and are doing headstands. I suppose they will be wanting breakfast. The cat is not impressed. Time for a snuggle!
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