How times change!
I'm sure that once upon a time I could manage 15 bottles of Blue Nun a night.
Dig could match me drink for drink, but he had aristocratic wine tastes and a whole lot more class than I could create with my knickers round my ankles rolling into the gutter. But still, me and Dig, although we lived in different worlds, we were a perfect liquid mix. Like if you take oil and water and shake them up together.
Which is why I proposed. I knew I had met my drinking partner equal. At least I think it was him. With my Blue Nun glasses he was six foot tall, blond and had a chest that rippled through his man-sized, extra-large fine linen shirt. I would never say that when I woke up in the morning the reality was a little different because, by then, love was blind.
Anyway, we oil-and-water mix, now not quite separated, are both old and wise and sober. We get to see each other's beauties and faults without any aid at all.
But it is a sad reality that we are no longer living in party 1989 with a hangover. We live in solemn 2009 with a mortgage, a credit crunch, and the need to economise on all unnecessary expenditure due to the overwhelming requirements of a punishing taxation system.
Worse, I have children. That means I drag alongside me a torn up bank account, an additional conscience, and a planet-sized guilt. I know for sure that the moment I sip one atom of wine, one of the children will fall downstairs and need taking to hospital at 70mph. I cannot do that if I am smashed out my skull. Better not to touch the stuff at all.
But soon it is Christmas, and enjoying a Grit and Dig Christmas drink is almost obligatory. But I am broke. And trashed. So I will not even bother doing a google search on what cocktail I can mix with the contents from the back of the cupboard, like gin, amaretto, custard power and buckwheat. I'll just put it in a bucket, give it a stir, drink it, and call it celebration on the cheap.
This pot luck approach I can recommend to all anxious, impoverished parents seeking alcoholic consolation on Christmas past, Christmas present and Christmas yet to come.
Dig, meanwhile, will probably have reserved a fine investment wine, hand-picked from a select slope of a vineyard. Doubtless he will partake of that when I am lying safely unconscious under the table with my gin and buckwheat overdose.
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7 comments:
Bloody hell Grit, you've sacrificed enough this year. Go get your Christmas drink!
Sounds like a good old-fashioned Cure-All. You need to give your potion a sexy name, divide it among the empty to-be-recycled bottles that surely lurk within and flog it at the next wholesome organic Christmas Fair that pops up. That'll serve the bastards right and you'll be quids in to stock up on Blue Nun, Thunderbird, Rougemont Castle and my favourite - Bulls Blood. Ohh...even typing 'Rougemont Castle' has made me come over all unnecessary.....
Grit you are such spunky lady what is happening to you? You have three wonderful girls. Enjoy. And then get pissed anyway.
I'm going to make you a super special cocktail bottle from the contents of our cupboard. Lets see, port, cachaca, vodka, rum.. sure I've got some lea & perrins in there somewhere too.
Make your children buy tickets at every tombola you go to. That's what we do. Which is why I have 2 litres of Lambrini, a tin of gin and tonic and a litre of cider that wouldn't look out of place wrapped in brown paper being clutched by a tramp. Still it's a cheap way of stocking the drinks cupboard.
The drinks cupboard in our house is v. sophisticated. I keep it in the cupboard under the sink with the dishwasher salt and bleach. it's the only cupboard with a lock. I might try cider with a sprinkling of dishwasher salt this year.
p.s. can you tell me which is the best salt dough recipe and how long to bake? I don't have a microwave and can't remember what else Kirstie said, except that I might need a microwave!
oh, for one awful minute i thought you were announcing your divorce!! but in fact it was far worse; your need to abstain when in sole charge of the triplets. however, I am wise to that chestnut...I simply drink whilst in charge of 4 kids, and happily dial an ambulance if in need. there i've solved your problem, drink your lighter fuel with impunity sweet Grit;-)
Pigx
thank you rachel!
you are RIGHT mme sg. I could cobble together some old cobblers, slap a tendy label on it, flog it for £50 a bottle, snap Kate Moss tippling it, and my fortune's secure. Sounds like a business plan to me, and an effective end for out of date buckwheat.
hi R&C! this year I am worn down by the dcsf. but now i will certainly take a break! (code for drink, eat, sleep)
hi glowstars! thank you! that collection sounds like a great start!
katyboo, we use the book Salt Dough (1995) by Cheryl Owen, although my guess is there will be lots in the library. The recipe there is 2cups plain flour to 1cup salt and 1cup water. Cook models at 120C until hard. I mixed strong paste food colours into the dough before modelling.
We made wall hangings and bowls with lids! we put all sorts of stuff on them, like tiny mirror tiles. I varnished some pieces to make them glossy. Excellent presents, kids loved it all, easy to do.
pig! you are so very kind! of course, i had not thought ambulance, like free of charge taxi. now at 6pm i can call it a day and get down with the meths.
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