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Showing posts with label jack daniels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jack daniels. Show all posts

Friday, 8 December 2017

Milking The Moose

I’m back in London today and L is worried I’m going to stay over to do a London Parkrun without her and MD. As if. It’s just a day trip and anyway, MD and I have a dog show tomorrow. L would desperately like to tour London in Parkruns.

We head off down at 6am again but manage to leave around 3pm, so we don’t get back mega late. The trip goes well, mostly. Some more issues have arisen but these are things our customer needs to sort out. 

It’s a bit of a stormy trip down, thanks to sweet Storm Caroline. Together we can rock ‘n’ roll.

L gets a bottle of Moose Milk from her boss. The recipe we’ve seen mentions six parts Jack Daniels to two parts Bacardi plus milk, eggs and seasoning then it's fermented for four weeks but I think he’s souped it up a bit. It's deadly.

My contribution is a bag of Twix cookies on expenses from London.

(Friday 8th December)

Thursday, 27 October 2011

Mud Surfing

It’s drizzling as I wheel the bike out this morning and then it gradually gets worse as I ride. So, soaked again and this time in both directions as the rain comes back in the afternoon as well.

I haven’t managed to get a squash court for tonight both remaining sets of council courts are booked up. It’s a good job the council closed the surplus courts because there was no demand. We book for Tuesday instead, pulling the rug out from somebody’s regular slot. I don’t like doing that but feel we have no choice.

L is out doing vampire duties tonight, giving blood. Rather her than me. I’d be no use anyway and it would take at least three blonde nurses to bring me round afterwards.

So I get to indulge myself in the kitchen whilst she is out. I enjoy cooking and I particularly enjoy cooking with the radio on and a glass of wine in my hand (which is allowed on a Thursday but not Monday - Wednesday). I top off the indulgence by having the cheese and biscuits to hand, to tide me over until the food is ready and L gets home to share it with me. Meanwhile the dogs urge me to kick their footballs so that they can mud surf across the garden.

L texts to say the deed is done and she’s having a bourbon. I’m initially impressed that they’re serving alcohol to the donors and was about to ask whether it was Jack Daniels, then it dawns on me she talking biscuits. I tell her to have another one to up her sugar levels, she’s earned it, not realising she's already on her sixth.

I decide I best go collect her before she has any more, she probably shouldn’t be wobbling home on her own anyway.

(Thursday 27th October)