Friday, October 22, 2010
Better weekend this time.
Last weekend was... challenging. Natalie set us up in a nice holiday place, to have a weekend away. Unfortunately, she wasn't exactly prepared for the kids' response. It was, by and large, okay -- we went to a really groovy little restaurant in Launceston, played mini golf, and veged out -- but the kids are kids, and they weren't always pollyanna positive, and they clashed with their mum.
That's always difficult. I tend to stay out of it as far as possible. But it got a little over the top this time, and I think all of us were thankful to get home.
This weekend - well, so far I've spent roughly six hours putting a new doorframe and a new door on the chicken coop. Then I set up the barbecue so I could char-grill two lovely free-range chooks, stuffed full of tarragon and mushroom and chorizo. And I've been throwing fresh bay leaves and branches onto the charcoal, creating clouds of amazingly fragrant smoke. This chicken is gonna be Da Bomb.
I can't say I really enjoy fragging around with chook-coop doors and fencing and stuff. But it's spring, and the weather is gorgeous, and Younger Son insisted on helping, so we had a really good time. And I'm gonna have a couple more beers, and then the barbecue chicken will be done, along with twice-cooked baby taters and fresh green salad.
Meanwhile: the photo above depicts the children's response to their very first tin of Spam. Yes, they have discovered Hormel's claim to fame.
It all started with Monty Python - as many things do. The kids laughed themselves sick at a DVD of some of Python's better efforts, including the infamous Singing Vikings - who sing about Spam, naturally. And so, they wanted to know what 'Spam' might be.
I did my best to explain, but I don't think they believed me. So this morning, when I went shopping, I got a tin of the stuff.
They weren't impressed. About fifteen minutes ago, they were outside in the afternoon sun with that floggin' great magnifying glass, trying to set fire to a spoonful of Spam...
...this can only end well, right?