Chit-Chat

I am trying to teach the Bee to speak BM and Hokkien
as well as those colloquial terms that I was brought up with
like: Doo-doo, mum-mum, cher-cher and etc

So we are walking down by the bay, on an absolutely stunning day and
I am reciting the numbers to the Bee
"Satu, dua, tiga, empat, lima.."
and he repeats after me, like a good student (apparently)
but then I start testing him

"Whats lima?"

"Nine?"

"Whats dua?"

"Thirty?"

"Apa nama kamu?"

"Doo-doo, mum-mum,'You go mandi', cher-cher, kaa-kaa, char kway teow!" he randomly spews in clueless answer.

Learning konon.

Spastic

Sometimes I catch myself looking at him,
transfixed, because I am in love and he is gorgeous
its like I am magnetised and try as I might I can't look away;

Until he catches me looking, and he will always always
pulls an idiotic monkey face,
and the spell will be broken and I will shake myself
and look away, disgusted.

Sometimes I even catch him making faces at himself in the mirror
or dancing like a red-indian; and always, always
if I am in the room, he farts then waves it towards me before he
leaves..

And then I scratch my head and wonder if he had cast some
voodoo nasi-kankang spell on me.

Cacat or not?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Bee is the type of guy
who will walk in Ikea with me, sit on a display toilet
and say "Baby, can you hand me a book please?"

When we watch anything on TV he finds it a necessity to narrate to
anyone in the room, whats going on on-screen,
as though we are all blind

But at the same time, he's the type of guy who will
make me a tuna-fish sandwich (now happening)
he will go salsa dancing with me (happening tonight)
he went to watch The Vagina Monologues (last saturday)
with me where he was made to (with all the other men in the audience)
stand up and recite "Clit Facts" in the full house of the Wales
Millennium Centre,
he will hold my hand and lead me to the loo in the dark
if I wake at 3am and need to go

So I can't really complain can I? I can only remind myself (;

Cuteness of Early Couplehood

Yeah, its all really cute and sweet and romantic and everything
how the Bee switched one side of my flip-flop with one side
of his;
So we both go around, arm-in-arm each wearing one orange flip-flop
and one yellow flip-flop.
Yeah.
Its all.sweet.and cute.and romantic.

Until one of you has to run to Tesco on your own
and people look at you weird because they think you're
either colourblind or just plain stupid because your other half isn't
with you to show them that you are part of a 'sweet' couplehood.

Class

Ever notice that its always the people of
a supposed, self-perceived higher class who actually
judge class?

That it always the ones who think they are more intelligent
more cultured, who look down on those that don't have the same
opportunities that they do?

Social-standing and money doesn't change the heart of a person,
doesn't change caring, kindness, dependability, responsibility
doesn't make a better human-being than the next.

I think in this world, it sometimes hard to remember that under it all,
it the heart that matters.

And yet, I still argue with the Bee about first impressions, about presenting
particular social tier with a palatable you.
Its as though you as a person are made up of many different
layers, all accessible, on their own or combined, to a certain social class.

The more versatile, the more accessible to the many layers; you are
the more friends you make, the more you learn, the more people
you reach out too, open your mind and identify with,
the farther you can potentially go

You weed out the bad from what you learn
take the good and apply it on yourself.

And I suppose you can keep wearing different hats, if the heart of you remains true
and perhaps when you have attained your dreams
then you can shed those skins and just be what you want to be,
yourself.

Shhh..

Don't tell them I am here ok?

It seems the only way I can get away from them now
the Bee and the Young Man,
(who only seems to be in school part-time )
to reply mails or blog, is through saying that
I am going to pang-sai and disappearing surreptitiously into
the loo with my laptop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Last night when we got back from the park,
we took the Bee to his first classical concert
Carl Orff's Carmina Burana at the young man's school
Orff's O Fortuna is probably the most famous of all the pieces
the kinda tune you know when you hear, that you've heard before
just never knew the name of

Then we came home and had fish n chips for dinner,
and I observed, as though from a distance, the Bee and I
working together like a well-oiled machine
one feeding the cats, one stacking the dishwasher
one making the veg, one taking the recycling out
one laying the table, the other getting the cutlery;

Sometimes it crosses my mind that in his own way, he
is nearly as anal as I, but I am not completely sure,
so I test him;
I move the table centre-piece an inch off centre
minutes later he subconsciously moves it back in place

NMTP has announce that if I must leave them,
then the Bee must definately stay to replace me.

I am lucky because the Bee, he panders to my anal whim
No Outside Clothes on the Bed? Fine.
No Outside Shoes pass that Unseen Line in the Room? OK
Never, NEVER, NEVER! Drop any pillow, blanket off the bed onto the
carpet? (or they must be washed immediately) yes ma'am!

But while some of him gives in, other parts of him resist
and so I present the list of Pet Peeves:

1) Hello? Must you really fold your half-dirty clothes up?
Why can't you just hang them up like normal people?
Folding is for clean clothes la wei.

Clothes status, clean: FOLD
Clothes status, worn, but not dirty: HANG UP/ Drape across random piece of high furniture
Clothes status, dirty: PUT IN THE LAUNDRY BASKET!

Not very hard to remember right?

2) Shoes must be kept in the same line as the other shoes.
I mean like, doesnt it hurt your eyes, when you look at a straight long line of shoes,
then suddenly! one pair is OUT?

3) And then there is the stirring. When we wake up, I will nudge the Bee
''You go make the coffee!" and he will nudge me back and say
"No, you go!" and we will go on, until one finally relents
the other stays in the room and makes the bed.

But when its his turn to make the coffee, he's so damn noisy!
You know that stirring so the spoon hits the side of the coffee cup
again and again? Ting ting ting ting?

I mean like come on man, the water is piping hot, by the time you pour it in
and give it a little (silent) swirl, the coffee and sugar will dissolve already right?
No need to pretend you're a bell toller calling people to church on a Sunday k?

Its a classic case of "should have just done it myself" (=

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Its now 2 hours after I started this post
in the time between Bee and I went to the asian grocery store
where he adopted an asian accent and I smacked him.

When we came home and had lunch, the Young Man
came down and got mightily offended when I said
that when he's home from school supposedly ill , he
tends to eat more (not what people with a fever do)
so he chucked one of the two tubs of Nata de Coco that were in his
hands on the table and stomped up the stairs in a huff.

Ouch!@

I got out of bed and stretched
then headed towards my computer,
checking my emails, when suddenly the Bee
came up behind me, slapped my bare buttock
and said "Slacker!".

And when I turned, smarting, ready to really whack him,
he pointed at the computer and said "You said it!"

Time Is Nothing

So I am bad, I haven't been blogging.
Call me a slacker or something, then slap me, I like it.
:P
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day wasn't clear, it was hazy-ish
but warm enough for me to lie in the park in my shirtsleeves
listening to old R & B, Diddy, Mase, Snoop

Beside me the Bee was engrossed in his book
while I lost myself in the waving branches of the tree that
shaded us,
I rolled about the grass, took pictures of me, of Bee, of us

I sang out loud, giggled, threw my legs up and over me
lay with my head downwards on the slope, blood rushing to my brain
scrutinised the daisies, let the sun beat down on my skin

And the Bee, through it all, ignored me
it was as though all that existed were him and the book
and then I sat up next to him, started reading over his shoulder
and then suddenly it was no longer warm and the wind blew
cold

the trees seemed to shiver and as I read, my eyes welled up
around me, everything seemed to slow down, tone down
the black labrador with its shiny coat, the children rolling
down the hill on their backs, the old couples ambling
its like they became a silent movie, black and white:
and the Bee, being too manly to cry only offered only the slightest tremble
while my disposition, within seconds, went from sunny, to dark

I sat beside him, still, quiet, upset
and then the Bee shut The Time Traveller's Wife with a snap
placed it in his jumper pocket, put his arm around me
and said "let's get out of here".

How I Suck At Lying

The Bee,is a really bad influence
because like me, he loves his food
except, where I have(had) reins, he does not

So we will have pudding, apple pie, ice-cream
chocolate, cheesecake

And everyday we watch our bellies expand
and because he lies to me and tells me
"I'll love you even if you're fat"
I give in to these whims
and stuff my face.

So, if you remember Worcestershire, the night
where the Bee went on about aliens
and I went on about fried chicken..

Well, those cravings had to be appeased
so a week after we got home from the country
the Bee and I snuck out to the local chinese
at 6pm (appetite spoiling),for some southern fried chicken

We wandered about in the cold devouring our chicken and chips
knowing we couldn't go home, because we'd be told
off for ruining our supper
then, satiated, we went home
"Don't even mention we had chicken and chips,"' I told the Bee, poker-faced

Half and hour later, we were served supper by NMTP
Pasta Puttanesca, but I was so full I could hardly make a dent
in my plate, finally, I pushed it aside, said to NMTP
"Sorry, this is lovely, but I am really full"

Then NMTP looked at me, knowing immediately something was up,
lowered her glasses to the end of her nose
"Are you not feeling well?"

"I'm fine,just full" I said lowering my eyes
Then it dawned on her
and in my head I watched her grow 5 times her size
while I grew tiny as an ant;
It was as though only us two existed at the supper table

She fixed me with a steely stare and boomed
"What did you eat?"
and me, I cowered "Chips," whimpered
and then everyone at the table gave me looks of disdain, disapprovement
and the Bee, looked at me like
"Man you tell me not to tell them, but you break at first sign!"

CKT

It has been a long sweaty, restless night for me,
I have been tossing and turning in our
sunken-in-the-middle bed
haunted by dreams, images, scents
it is the loud growling of my tummy that finally wakes me

I turn to the Bee, he cracks one eye open
and says "I love you"
I look at him, and I say
"I love Char Kway Teow"

Three months, two days, to proper
Penang Char Kway Teow.

Why The Hoo-Ha?

I hear you ask.

Well you see, ask me what I really really cannot tahan
and I'll tell you.

I'll tell you I cannot tahan when people not only let me know
that they read my blog, but quote me incessantly and
play stupid mind games when doing so.

Its annoying, uncomfortable, and frankly, it is old.

It has happened so many times that I've decided hey,
what better time to stop using the address with my name in
it, then now?

The only thing that kept me from moving before
was pride, losing my readership, how long have I been blogging?
four years? and its hard to move because when you write
you sort of feed off the people who read you..in a positive manner.

So now, if you want to give my address out, I don't mind,
just please use discretion; friends of mine and people who get
my brand of..uh..writing if you could call it that.
if you're going to link me, don't use my name (=
I know its all over this blog's history, but I may do something
about it soon.

So, that is why we are here, its not that I don't want people reading it
its not that I expect to put my life out here and maintain privacy,
I know that is impossible;

But the thing is, if you read, fine, passing acknowledgment is a-okay
but please do not recount personal details of my life
face-to-face, because it drives me up the wall
and it makes you look like a sad obsessive stalker.

Say you identify with me, laugh with me, cry with me, comment on the blog;
that's all cool, I just don't need anything verbatim thankyouverymuch
its all been done before.

Funny thing is, I know one day, someday, someone is going to come up
and say "Hey, I found you!" or "Hey, I found you again!"
then, I'll just *ibcao8Y*()^%$#o8y1[r/.?c*&cz them.

Sleep

The Bee is still sleeping.
He sleeps with such abandon, arms flung about him
a blanket, a duvet twisted over him
his breathing heavy, his eyelashes pressed tight
against his cheekbones

This respite, is rare.

In fact, it is the first time that we have not awoken together
which for me, is nice because
I can sit and ease into my morning, in silence
I can think, I can write, I can just be grumpy on my own.

Here is something I wrote yesterday, but didn't have time to post
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It has now become quite obvious that the Bee is a morning person
and I, unsurprisingly, am not
Its as though, as payback for me being the one who says
the words " lets get out of bed"
he will be as annoying as humanly possible
there is no escape, none.

I am the type of person who likes to ease into
my morning, quiet, calm, coffee
The Bee will hum, he will sing, he will tap his fingers, drum his feet,
he will talk back to the TV and
gosh does it do my head in.

But if he leaves the room, then I am lost.
*rolls eyes at self*
I am such a lamer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Bee will pinch my face into weird faces while I am
trying to kiss him and laugh at me
The Bee will quack at the ducks when we go to the park

Me: Look babe, what bird is that?
He: Its a pygmy. (he means magpie)
Me: No its not! You're a pygmy!
He: Well you're just plain pig.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Me: Look Bee, its a babbling brook!
He: The only thing I see, is a babbling bitch!

Castle-ing

Last weekend, I made us a picnic
and we set out in the car, castle-hunting
I drove for hours, on narrow cliff roads,
down cramped country lanes
and together we got lashed by the ferocious wind
thus had to eat our lunch in the car, facing the sea
(roast chicken, potato salad, broccoli,carrots in basil butter)

We then hiked up the mountain nearly being blown over
a ledge overlooking the ocean
and that was when I stamped my feet and said
"I WANT TO GO HOME!"

But we soldiered on, castle after castle
ruin after ruin
then we snuck into the castle owned by the late
Sir William Randolph Hearst
(Jr or Sr, beats me)

18th century churches, gargoyles, secret garden pathways
ya-dah, ya-dah, ya-dah
on the way out, we picked up 3 hitchhikers
sent them to the historic town of Llantwit Major
then we drove pass another castle
and contemplated going in
I turned to the Bee and said
"Seen one ruin, seen them all!"
And together we chanted "Seen one ruin, seen them all!"

So we just came home, drank wine, ate duck pate on toast
and watched a movie in bed
then we got dressed up and braved the crazy
crowds in town(St Paddy's Day plus Wales vs England rugby)
all for Thai food.

Damn Dirty Apes

Dadman, NMTP and YM are leaving
for London this weekend, leaving the BEE
and I all alone for the entire weekend to play house.

This morning I dropped Dadman off to work
so that NMTP could just pick him up after and
they'd be on their way

He is giving me directions,
"Go straight, but not straight if the road bends
and there is no road straight a head, follow if it bends (;"

"Go all the way around the round-a-bout, but not ALL the way
around you understand?"

"Go straight but if the road wiggles, wiggle with it"

as he kissed my cheek and got out of the car
he said " Be good...and if you can't be good
be careful!"

=O

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I reached home at 8 am, chilly
and flung my clothes off in every direction
then hastened under the covers, wrapping myself over the Bee
"You are like a boiling cauldron of sweat"
I said as I touched his scorching skin
"You are like a freezing ice-cube" he retorted

and I lay there, then started to giggle uncontrollably
just at how funny we were
and the Bee, he turned and looked at me
and said
" Are you thinking about the polar bear on the tight rope too?"

=O

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2 hours later its time for us to really wake up
I am spooning the Bee
and suddenly, I spy a pubic-esqu strand of hair growing out
of his back, I grab the tweezers and start to yank
these wiry little buggers out
when I am done, he turns to face me
grabs the tweezers and starts tweezing my eyebrows
then I do his uni
we are like apes grooming each other.

We have reached this plateau of comfort with each
other, with our emotions (though our
thinking is very very different)
and our bodies, that is amusing, inspiring
and disgusting all at the same time.

Like yesterday when the Bee was turned on his belly
and I was peering at his bum, completely flummoxed
by how incredibly hairy his butt is
"Damn babe! Its like you're middle-eastern or something!"

Fluc-U-ations

God is the Bee fucking annoying.

So goddamn annoying
I dont know how to explain it.

You know how when someone, something
everything just annoys the shit out of you?

Yesterday he was talking to the cats
calling them endlessly in this superwhiny
(gay in a homosexual not happy way) voice
while I yelled "Shut UP!"

"Casparrrrrrrr, Jemima!!!"

"SHUT UP!"

*squeaky, teeth grinding cat-talk continues*

"God, won't you just shut the fuck up!
You're more annoying than YM!
How is this even possible?"

As you may have guessed, Miss right here
is PMS-ing

Later I said "Sorry baby, I am PMSing
I love you, really, I do"

"PMSing? how can that be (he counts in his head)
I only got here 2 weeks ago.."

"Uh yeah, I PMS 3 times a month,
its scientifically proven, some women once, some
twice, others THREE. We (as in you) just have to
learn how to deal with it."

"Whhaaaaat? You never told me that before.."
the bee then shot me a look of utter
betrayal, like I had duped him into coming
here with a "NO PMS" contract.

Caerphilly

Grouchiness didn't last too long yesterday
what with the perfect weather
(though the BBC Weather is telling us
not to be fooled by this early spring)
and the Bee who will withstand my moaning and
accept my apologies and
run me a hot bath without my asking.

So yes, yesterday afternoon,
we got on the road
tapaued fried chicken and seafood fried rice
and made for Caerphilly Mountain
once there, sat at a picnic table in the parkland by
the castle moat, had our little picnic,
then explored the castle grounds jostling
each other and shouting "my shot!"
so as to not copy photographs then we wandered the town
then we came home
then and the Bee called all of America
while I made him chicken noodle soup
and then we cuddled up, and I said "Baby, I love you"
and he said "Baby, I love you more"
and we went to sleep

end of story, full stop,goodnight.

(actually we ended up wrestling and laughing uproariously
then things got out of hand
and my arm hurt and I tried to grab the family jewels
and the Bee was furious and went to sulk on the floor
then we made up and then only did we
go to sleep- but the bee says I cant tell you all this cause 'its private'
and he just walked insoIgottagoBYE)

Differences

It is 430am in a 500 year old house
in the Worcestershire countryside

I wake with a start because the Bee has been talking
in his sleep and has let out a rather alarming cry

Because we are staying at "Grannie & Granpa's"
where etiquette is more than acknowledged,
we are in single beds at opposite ends of what is dubbed
'the Green room', though for what reasons
I don't know, because it is certainly not green

I crawl out of my bed and squeezeinwiththeBee
this bed is barely 3 feet wide
I tell him that I need to go to the loo
but it is an inky black night
and the house is alive with its creaks and murmuring
I am scared

The Bee puts on the light, offers to come with
but I shrug him off
I am a big girl

I go;I return unscathed by the bogeyman
and the Bee wraps me up in his arms
and I hook my knees over his thighs to
keep from falling onto the floor

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1 hour later, I am still up
thinking, thinking
I test the waters, toss an
"I love you" out there into the blackness

"I love you too, baby" comes the quick answer

"What are you doing still up?"

'What are you doing up still?"

"I am thinking of fried chicken, what are you
thinking about?"

"Aliens. If they come and get me? Will you protect me?"

"Of course baby"

Then the Bee pretends that imaginary
aliens have come, he cowers and whimpers behind me
"Take her!" he whispers in urgent, mock horror
"Or take the boy next door! There's more of him!"
(referring to YM)

And then we fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Our stimulating night/early morning conversations
demonstrate just how different we are
(I mean hello? Fried Chicken? Aliens? 5 am?)
often just starts with an "I love you" tossed into
the night.

We wake up in the mornings,
(or I wake the Bee most likely)
"1 more hour" he'll say
"No, you told me to wake you early," I say

"Half an hour"
"Uh uh!"

"20 minutes?"
"10 and you got a deal"

"Ok, ten"

But we won't go back to sleep
we lie awake, tangled up
every morning we recount our dreams to each other
tell each other "You're weird!"

And then the Bee gets out of bed
leaving me cocooned in the warm nest that our
bodies have made
and tell me to get out of bed.

He will go to the bathroom
I will go in later, we stand side by side in front of the mirror
brushing our teeth
then we make coffee (depending on whose turn)
everyday I change the amount of sugar in his coffee
just to see if he notices (he doesn't)

Somedays we go down to the bakery to get bread
for breakfast, other days I slice yesterday's bread
pop them in the toaster, toss the slices at the
Bee for buttering as they come out
once I caught sight of the amount of butter the Bee
had spread on his toast
"Babe! Are you trying to get a heart attack?"
and the Bee, quick as lighting, turned his toast over
fixed a look of utter innocence on his face
and said "what are you talking about baby?

We have jam, cold meat
(the Bee can eat a loaf in a sitting)
somedays I make him eggs, bacon
we watch the news

then we clean up, and go about with our
respective tasks til lunchtime.

I keep telling myself I have nothing to blog
because everything I have to say encompasses the Bee
at the moment
then I think, hey, why should I hide it?

If this documents a part of my life
where I am happy, fulfilled
where I can lie in bed at 3 pm
reading, while the Bee's warm back is pressed
into my belly and my feet are tucked into
the crook of his knees to keep warm
(in outside clothes, no less)
and the afternoon sun is streaming over us,
when the only sounds are the soft rumble of his occasional
snores or the turning of my book's pages

when I look at him and think he's sleeping
only to find that he's looking at me thinking
I am reading...

how can I not write about this?How can I not
share it? If anything, it not only
tells others that it exists, but when
I write it, it sort of makes me reflect on it,
on how, just as easily, this could not exist
and that, just makes me cherish it all the more.

Country Life

He Says, She Says

Bee: So are you sick of me yet?
Me: No, are you sick of me?

Bee: No. You're pretty surprised you're not sick of me yet
huh?
Me: Uh....*long silence* yeah, I am actually.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You see, its like this some nights,
At about 4am I will be sleeping soundly
then suddenly there will be this explosion, like
KABLAAAAMMMMM!

So loud that it will vibrate through my body and jolt me awake
my body will jump 2 inches of the mattress
and I will lay in shock wondering
"What the hell?"

And this is when it will hit my nostrils
this oily, shitty stench that will permeate the covers
and room
and I will punch the broad back in front of me and go
"Babe, WHAT THE FUCK?"

And that back, it will not budge
no fucking reply
dead to the world.

Motherfucker.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But today, ohhh hooo, today
it was 5 am, and the Bee, he let a superone rip
and me, I kept my head far off the bed
half asleep, disgusted as hell
when I heard, through the haze of slumber, a,
"Whewww, Pheeeewwww, Pwwwewwhhh"

Me: What? You farted so bad, even you can't stand it?

He: Yeah, man it woke me up!
Man, this is bad!!

I laugh, and it could be then, or later, that
he grabs hold of my head and holds it under the
comforter.

Oh the joys of being in love!

Red Wine In My Belly

mmmmmm how nice
Because I live in a household that mainly consumes
white wines, semillons and sauvignons
(no chardonnay cos too flowery),
I had temporarily forgotten my love for
reds like shiraz, merlot, bordeaux and pinots

so just now while looking for a bday present for dadman
the Bee and I bought ourselves some red

mmm, shiraz, south african

better consume all the wine I can here where
its cheap man, rather than go back to
malaysia where I can get one mediocre bottle for the price of 3 here
how utterly dispiriting for the budding alcoholic

I am currently consuming, thai flavoured
potato crisps(tonguetwister)
man are they sogoodIwanttoeatthemallup

Ok. Look. I know what you're thinking
(that I am avoiding the subject)
not that the Bee is here, I've been neglecting my blog right?

I am sorry.
Really wan.

But what I've actually been doing is making dumplings.
Xiao Long Bao.
Or Siow Loong Pau.
Depending on what type of chinese person you are.

Dumplings, You Say?

So, I made dumplings
but not just any dumplings, xiao long bao
the soup filled ones

This particular frenzy started courtesy of Leyna
who has been 'plagued' with asian food cravings this past week
and keeps sending me detailed lists of stuff that she
wants to devour, thus transferring this itch to me

this is how I found myself browsing Malaysian blog-food sites
and came across one ShaolinTiger
who regaled with details of his obsession with Xiao Long Bao

Ironically he is a Brit living in Malaysia, hailing
from Worcester I believe, which is where this Malaysian
is spending this weekend in Great Britain.

Xiao Long Bao. Once you pop you can't stop.

You have to let it sit for a precious few seconds
when it comes off the heat, so that the gluten firms up
and you don't pierce the skin and lose that gorgeous nectar.

The centre is filled with a delicious broth
that bursts forth, filling your mouth
when your teeth break the skin of the dumpling

Once the broth is spent, there is the succulent
gingery meat to coat your tongue
then into your belly it all goes
and you reach for another one.

How is soup in a dumpling achieved?

I injected it in with a syringe.

No lah. Aspic.
This is basically jellified stock obtained by adding
pig-skin or pigs trotters in stock,
the skin of pig has lots of properties -collagen etc.
(but other meats can be used as well)
that help the stock set once refrigerated.

Once hard, slice into cubes and encase with meat
You can see some peeking out of the meat above.

Suddenly, Its Not Just Me

When the Bee arrived on the island of Great Britain
his mobile did not work
thus he could not tell me if he had followed
step one to ten on my
"What to do when you get to Heathrow" list

I did not know if he caught his train to Paddington
I did not know if he caught the next train to Wales
I did not know if he found his train tickets in the hole
that I had dug and hid them in under the train tracks
I did not know if he was even through immigration

All I knew, from Heathrow news, was that his
plane had landed, with or without him

The only thing I could do was
wait on the Cardiff platform, in teethchattering cold
and see if he appeared.

He swooped upon me, and was quite smelly from travel,
accusing me of not recognising him

Suddenly he was here, flesh, bone,
what was I to do with him now?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I brought him home
he produced a loaf of sourdough bread
which the family and I promptly tore into,
the next day, there was none.

He had his long overdue slice of Christmas cake
and english tea sitting opposite Dadman
and promptly dropped his cake on the table
he was so nervous he was, but so, was Dadman.

Then NMTP and YM came home
and filled up the shy silences
and we all sat down for a sausage casserole supper
and they taught the Bee how to speak English, English.

(and every morning at about 3 am, I am jolted awake
by the Bee, jolting awake, talking in his sleep going
"Pants are underwear, not trousers;
Jelly is Jell-o, not jam")

The next morning when we woke
I took the Bee out to explore the land
showed him where we could get provisions
and hunt for food.

We trekked out by the sea
and climbed huge boulders on the coast
(or rather he jumped nimbly from one to the next
while I whimpered and wondered when I had become so
fearful of everything)

When we had killed, skinned and smoked a hog
I made him a bacon sarnie
all because he scoffed at the idea of
"Just bacon?In a sandwich?Nothing else?
Really?"

"Ah but the Bee, said NMTP, it is one of
the most delightful creations of this world".

Obviously, once made by my fair hands
he thought so too.

That night I made a gorgeous seafood curry
for the whole family,
then spent the entire night on tether hooks
because the Bee was running to and from the loo
retching and _______ing something fierce.

Turns out it was only a tiny stomach bug
and he was right as rain by morning

So right, that he enjoyed a massive English fry-up
with black pudding.

We went into town, had Starbucks
and exchanged rude observations
about the physical properties of the inhabitants of this land
then we came home, had tea
and were out the door again for supper
at Dadman's daughter from another marriage's
house.

It would be her, her 3 kids and her husband,
whose name escaped me when I introduced the Bee to him
this is where the Bee broke their tap just before dinner
and sent the men hurrying for toolboxes
while the Bee stood mortified and looking
as though he wanted to cry
daughter of Dadman thanked the Bee, telling him
she had wanted those taps changed for years
(but the Husband would not get it done)
but the Bee would not be consoled

So the women comforted him with stories of other
people's embarrassment.

After supper and some glasses of wine
we (the old and young)
proceeded to play Wii Sports,

which is where the Bee came into his element
playing baseball with the kids, bowling with me
and something other game that escapes me.

He was loud and fun and funny to watch.

Now this Wii thing is amazing!
I actually pulled my dam hamstring from Wii bowling,
my arms ache.

I recommend it if you have an inactive kid who's addicted
to video games or even if you yourself
want to get active in your own living room.

On Sunday, Dadman cooked us a belated Christmas feast
in celebration of the original feast that the Bee
and I did not make

This is where he was introduced to bread sauce
and brussel sprouts (separately, on one plate, not together in a mouthful)
we then went to the Moscow circus with YM and Leyna
and Leyna probably thought we were all crazy
because while the boys sang at the back
I shouted to my own tune in the front.

Then we came home, had asparagus, turkey
and chicken soup and watch Shopgirl in bed.

And now as I type, the Bee is outside,
doing male things with YM;
Its been like this all day, and there I was worried
they would not get along.

I feel so unwanted.

But you know whats good about this?
every time I think of the Bee, or want to smile at him
or kiss him, he's just next door.

Ferocious Is What I Am

I lie awake for about 600 seconds listening to the
sounds of the house waking up above me
when NMTP comes down its 7.15 am

I spring out of bed and go out
"Good morning!" she chirps
"Good morning, says I, I am going to be wrecked by tonight."

"Why?"

"Could hardly sleep, excitement!"

"And how old are you?" she asked as though there is
an age where excitement should cease

"I think I will clean!" I announce

"Well, thats always good," says she.

I have 9 hours to kill.

By the time NMTP has come home from taking YM
to school I have hoovered the 2 floors above,
swept and mopped the kitchen,
put my washing in,
cleaned windows, mopped the upper floors;

"Your absolutely manic, your boyfriend should visit often!"

I start on my bathroom.

"Are you having breakfast?"

"Yes, soon" I say

Bathroom done, I sit down, feeling tired.
I have a slice of toast, some tea; I havent brushed my teeth
or gotten out of my pyjamas
I literally sprung out of bed and grabbed the vaccuum cleaner.

"My whole family, they're all like this,
in fact when I clean, in my head I can see this long line
of mother and aunts behind me, wending like
a snake, doing some sort of cleaning dance."

I go and lie in bed, 10 am
I try and sleep, try counting backward from 50
I think I may have dozed off for 15 mins
I jump out of bed, its still only 10.45

I tackle the downstairs with the hoover
then take it upstairs
"Surely you've done everything to death" says NMTP

"Ah, but not my car!"
she laughs

So I hoovered the car, cleaned the insides,
and now its noon.

What now? I ask you?What now?