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Take A Memo

Posted by Mummy Dearest on Sep-27-2005

This morning, before he jumped upon his white stallion and headed off to brave the evils and dangers of modern society, The Father said to me, …and next week, I will be in England.

I must have had an unusually blank look on my face, even more inbred than is my pre- coffee wont, for he then said, I told you four months ago that next week I would be going to England during the week of whatever next week is.

Uh, I said, when do you leave ?


Uh, when do you come back ?


Ok. Got it, I said, and shuffled off towards the coffee pot.

In between processing the deluge of cootie contaminated items upstairs in the laundry room, I checked on everyone’s schedules for the next ten days or so : The Girl ( who returns from camp tomorrow, during a narrow window of time between the guy coming to fix the heater arriving and The Baby coming home for lunch- a narrow window during which I must guide Opa to The Girll’s school as The Father and the white charger have to be somewhere else ) has Thursday and Friday off.

I am running off to the Big City on Friday morning. I would love to be young enough to say that it is because I want to blow this joint and party hearty, but the truth of the matter is that while I do want to blow this joint for a few hours, my mission is to buy velcro. Black velcro.

I know, but as I always say, I was born under a lucky star.

On Monday and Tuesday, The Boy and The Baby have off. Their calender has the rather cryptic phrase Study Day on it. I have already asked The Father to see if The Baby can go and visit her Grandparents on one or the other day : at the moment, she is chronically bored. And she hasn’t spent the day there since at least, oh, last June.

Possibly last May.

Possibly months before either of those two options.

Today as I prepared the last bits of dinner, catching up on life with The Father, he mentioned that on Saturday, we were going out to dinner. I do a vacant stare quite well, of the sort that just doesn’t work when playing poker, a sortof lost in a wrinkle of time slightly panicked look about , where I am obviously in a state of befuddlement.

Do we have a baby sitter, I asked.

We’ll check that out, he said.

Stirring the butter/ flour mixture ( yep, I know, it’s a roux. But I’m not a roux sort of person…) I asked him where we were going.

To Belgium.

Read : to my favorite place.

Any problems with that, he asked.

Nope, I said.

See ? I kid you not, I was born under a lucky star.

  1. jo Said,

    And what, praytell, shall you dine on at your favourite place?

  2. sue Said,

    Oh! That is the fun part, isn’t it ? Spending days day dreaming about what I shall order and ending up getting the same thing that I always do.

    First off, I guess it depends on what the set menu at the moment is. While I don’t really like game ( read, what I don’t like is pate of any sort. Meow.They always sneak in pate in a game menu)they once had a lovely game menu.

    I might just get shrimp twice, but most likely will get a shrimp something starter ( probably shrimp in a creamy garlic sauce, with all of these tiny minced *things* in the sauce and a handful of water cress. My breath will melt paint for days…)and a pepper steak. Of course, it has some fancy french name which escapes me just now.

    Although the last time, I was stuffed to pain by that combo.

    Let’s see, what is the word for *rare*?


    Just in case I do order the same thing again, even though I have aged beyond the portions.

    If I were a wise woman, I would choose a light starter and a dinner sized portion of the garlic shrimp.

    Oh me, oh my ! How I love to eat !

    And my favorite of all time there is white asperagus served with they- smoke- it- themselves salmon ( usually a little bit of smoked salmon goes a long way for me) and a mousseline sauce. But I don’t know that they will serve it out of season.

    But really, is anything out of season these days ?

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