Tag Archives: alcohol

Weekend Coffee Share – 14th March, 2022.

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee!

How are you all, and how was your week? I hope it’s been great, and I look forward to chatting with you over a cup of tea or coffee and no doubt you’d prefer a few Tim Tams to Vegemite toast!

Mr with his t-shirt from Jeremy Clarkson’s Didly Squat Farm.

Last Tuesday marked the end of an era, and the beginning of a new one. Mister, who was six years old when I first started Beyond the Flow, turned 18 and is now an adult. Or, in other words, he’s become a man (whatever that means!!) He had a three course dinner for his friends, where yours truly acted as Caterer-in-Chief while his father did the shopping, and did his best to keep me sane. Catering to Mister’s last minute requirements could be rather challenging. Indeed, I could be excused for thinking I was working for a rock star. However, truth be told, his requests were quite reasonable if not quite what you’d expect.

Mum’s famous sponge cake reborn.

One of the great complications in the great birthday party preparations was the birthday cake. Just to complicate matters, I am famed among my friends for baking quirky and extravagant birthday cakes. I am also famed for my pavlova which sends most people into a spin. That’s not to put tickets on myself. I’ve been baking all my life, and it’s something I generally find easy. Not everything works out, and sometimes I’ve had to cover-up my mistakes, but usually I manage to save the day, and all is well. (It’s quite a different story when it comes to anything technical or finding my way around. I am notoriously always getting lost.)

Mum sitting down in the kitchen before I fall down.

Meanwhile, our son’s favourite cake is the caramel mud cake from Aldi. This is fine as an option at home, and something to dish up for himself. However, as the featured birthday cake for an 18th birthday party, it was clearly inappropriate. (Well, at least, it was to me!!)

That sent me into an incredible tailspin about what to bake. It was worse that trying to choose my wedding dress. I managed to find that at the first shop, and even managed to find the dress I loved in the bridal magazine hanging on the rack. How lucky was that?!! Anyway, after going through a gazillion recipe books, I went back to my Mum’s traditional sponge cake with jam, cream and raspberries inside and a dusting of icing sugar on top. By this point, I was wondering how I could ever have considered anything else, especially as Mum and Dad couldn’t make it. They’re still keeping a low profile due to covid.

Anyway, the party went well. I still haven’t written a designated post about him turning 18, which I’ll have to get onto. He still looks and acts the same, but he now has right of entry into pubs, can buy alcohol and has the right to vote. We all know that for an 18 year old how these rank in order of importance!

Meanwhile, I’ve been on something like a five beaches tour of the local area, with Miss at the helm of the Subaru, which has somehow been rebadged “Siberia” in a text which seemed appropriate as it’s white. All has largely gone well in Siberia, except when Rosie joined us for a drive to Terrigal. I’ve never had a dog who doesn’t like going for a drive. However, Rosie metamorphosed into a quivering mess, dribbling the whole way there. Somehow, I managed to miss the climax until we pulled up. Rosie had been sick, and it looks like she must’ve eaten Zac’s breakfast as well as her own. The joy of parenthood. When your kids grow out of such issues, you get dogs to take their place.

Iron man salvaging a coffee table from the beach, much to his wife’s disgust.

The beaches were all closed as the water’s been contaminated by recent flooding. It has been interesting to see how the flood waters affected the different beaches. The Hawkesbury River which experienced significant flooding, flows into Broken Bay where we’re located. So, our beach has copped a fair bit of debris. A poor Clydesdale washed up here last week, and they managed to trace it back to its poor owner who lived up the river at St Albans. I hope she appreciates that at least some of us thought of her loss. That her horse was honoured in a small way.

Meanwhile, Lismore up on the North Coast has been decimated by the worst floods in living record. I can’t do what’s happened justice, but this video is personal and powerful: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IhIylzniCTM

I incorporated the Lismore floods into my flash fiction piece for Friday Fictioneers this week: The Last House Left Standing: https://beyondtheflow.wordpress.com/2022/03/10/last-house-standing-friday-fictioneers-9th-march-2022/

I have been following what’s happening in Ukraine to the best of my ability. My response is very simple: “Putin, go home!” However, as we all know, that isn’t working. I listened to a podcast my Irish author and philosopher Michael Harding about our emotional and spiritual response to what’s happening in Ukraine and found it interesting and comforting. Here’s the link: https://shows.acast.com/MichaelHarding/episodes/lets-find-a-way-through-this

Well, I think that’s about covered the last week. So, I’ll thank you for joining me, and turn it over to you.

Meanwhile, you might like to join us over at the Weekend Coffee Share, which is hosted by Natalie the Explorer https://natalietheexplorer.home.blog/

Best wishes,

Rowena

A Place For Everything & Everything In It’s Place…Friday Fictioneers.

Jackson was seething with rage, and vowing revenge. Busted with a bottle of Bacardi at school, the Principal had poured it straight down the sink, slapped him with a three day suspension, and hauled his parents into the office. That was it. He was immediately despatched to Uncle Bill’s piggery to teach him a good, hard lesson. “Suspension is a punishment, not a holiday”. The stench of pig still permeated his skin, as he emptied the contents of the takeaway container into her desk. A place for everything and everything in its place, it was right at home.

….

100 words. This has been another contribution to the Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff-Fields at https://rochellewisoff.com/. Every week, we write 50 words to a photo prompt. This weeks PHOTO PROMPT @ Jan Wayne Fields.

By the way, if you’re interested in old family photographs, you might like to check out my previous past. After my Great Aunt passed away, I’ve been putting some photos together and, of course, came up with some complcations.

Best wishes,

Rowena

The Long Walk Home…Friday Fictioneers.

Hayley knew she shouldn’t be walking home alone at 2.00 am. That rapists don’t care about equality and a woman’s right to safely walk the streets at night.

However, she’d spent her taxi money on one last drink, and that wasn’t the best idea either.

Indeed, bad decisions were lining up like dominoes waiting to fall, and she knew her guardian angel was working overtime tonight.

“Hey, Hayley. You alright?” Matt asked putting his arm around her shoulder.

She was pleased to see her brother’s friend, forgetting she was more likely to be raped by someone she knew than a stranger.

….

100 Words

This has been another contribution for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wishoff Fields. PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson. Click here for other stories inspired by the prompt.

All for a Sozzled Christmas Cake…

Yesterday, being the second day of the school holidays, I was driven to desperate measures. Indeed, pushed straight over the brink, I was merely hanging onto my sanity by the barest of fingertips. The kids were asleep. My husband was there to mind the fort. It was almost 10.00PM and I had to get to the bottle shop. I couldn’t wait!

Of course, it wasn’t for me.

I swear it wasn’t.

It was for my Christmas Cake. I’d found an interesting recipe on the back of my Christmas cards and I had to try it out. With only a few sleeps before Christmas, there wasn’t any time to waste. Not that it would be ready in time. Like all Christmas cakes, it has to rest and this one needs more rest than most.

However, if I was a Christmas Cake and I’d drunk an entire cup of straight brandy, I’d need an extended rest too. Indeed, I’d probably need my stomach pumped. Unlike the Christmas cake, I’m not much of a drinker and a humble cup of tea usually does me.

So, there I was cruising the streets at night, desperately needing my cup of brandy. Yet, much to my horror, all the bottle shops were shut. I mean…where’s the Christmas spirit? Evidently, you needed to go to the pub for that.

Go to the pub? Was I that desperate, that unabashed, that I could front up to the bar with my pink melamine measuring cup and order a cup of brandy?

Yes! I was.

As I said, it wasn’t for me. It was for the Christmas cake. Surely, the pub would have a bit of compassion for someone making a Christmas cake a few days before Christmas?

Still, I could see all those bar flies with their huge, bug eyes are staring at me like rotting flesh.

What the?

Even I have to admit it’s weird…like a scene out of Fawlty Towers, Some Mothers Do Have ‘Em  or some more recent comedy show.

I’ve been known to cause  embarrassment before, but this would have taken the cake (forgive the pun).

We live in a beach side town and while there are plenty of people living here, it’s yet another insular peninsula. Nothing’s private. Everybody knows your business and I can tell you that some old chook turning up at the bar ordering brandy in a measuring cup, would not go unnoticed. I’d be the talk of the town and for all the wrong reasons.

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Yet, hasn’t anyone else ever been caught out trying to make a Christmas cake a few days before Christmas? Surely, after thousands of years of celebrating Christmas, I am not the only one…the very first?!!

By the way, if you’ve never made your own Christmas Cake, you probably don’t know about their heavy drinking habits.

Of course, they have all sorts of excuses. I mean, if I earned a dollar for every time I’ve heard a Christmas cake blame the dried fruit, I’d be a very wealthy woman. But you try giving a thirsty Christmas Cake a few glasses of water, and you’ll soon see their true colours. They’ll be throwing that slice of lemon straight back at you and demanding the hard stuff…whiskey, brandy, rum. If you’re on a budget, you might be lucky. They might settle for a sherry, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. These Christmas cakes hold nothing back and that’s why they’re always at the very top of Santa’s Naughty List.

Indeed, if you drank a cup of straight brandy, I’m sure you’d be at the top of the Naughty List too!

With the bottle shops shut and feeling too intimidated to go to the pub, I did consider Facebooking a few friends. Who could I pop in on at 10.00PM asking for a cup of brandy rather than the usual cup of sugar? I’m sure we all know a few likely characters, but by this stage, I’d finally accepted defeat. I decided to head back to the bottle shop in the morning.

Meanwhile, before I call it a night, I have some advice for Santa.

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Beware of eating too much Christmas Cake. I don’t know if they have random breath testing for sleighs,  but you don’t want to end up at the top of your own naughty list.

I’m not quite sure how many standard drinks are going to be in this Christmas cake by the time it’s done. Although much of the alcohol will be cooked out of the cake, you keep adding it as it ferments. It’s going to be sozzled.

So, my piece of wisdom for this Christmas…

Be careful before you eat and drive!

Don’t say you haven’t been warned!

Wishing you a cautious Merry Christmas and some moderated “Ho! Ho! Ho!”

xx Rowena

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I must admit it feel odd walking out of the bottle shop at lunch time with a bottle in a brown paper bag. It’s not mine! I swear it’s not mine!