Ok gang- here it is.

We’re finally ready to launch our new food blog Fig & Pepper!!!!!!

Please check it out and tell me what you think. Make something that I’ve posted and pretend I’m having you over for a nice boozy dinner party. Unless you screw the recipe up- in that case- I want nothing to do with it. we’re still working out a few bugs so feel free to give me a heads up if you notice anything.

Be warned though- this site is a little more commercial so you’ll notice a sad lack of swearing, so just to tide you over…..FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK. Motherfuckfuckfuck.

Enjoy.

It’s only a couple more sleeps until the fat guy starts (allegedly) breaking in to houses all around the globe. I personally feel a closer connection to the original Dutch version. Black Peter or Sinterklaas would come around at the beginning of December and kick the shit out of all the bad kids. He would literally drag them from their beds and beat the crap out of them in the street. As the youngest in a family comprised of future prison inmate brothers I desperately believed in Black Peter.

This year Suz & Stan and the awesomeness that is BABY GRAY will be spending Christmas at our house. It will make it slightly more difficult to get Steve drunk and convince him that we should open everything on Christmas eve, but I’ll still give it a go.

There is something magical about Christmas with a 3 year old. Especially when it’s not a snotty nosed whiny one. Given that upcoming fantasticness, I’m signing off until after the big day so that I can concentrate on eating my body weight in turkey and mauling Gray while sipping glass after endless glass of red wine.

Happy holidays to you all- be safe and be merry.

Part 1 DEATH

For those interested, the wake for Uncle Tim was brilliant.(as wakes go) It consisted of my cousin Shannon’s rather large 3 story home being packed to the rafters with Holden’s as far as the eye could see. There was too much food, a “booze station” on every level, a container of ashes, and only 1 short speech followed by yet more hugging and kissing and laughing.

We celebrate life. We say “fuck you, death we got some beer to drink.”

Oddly enough, no one fell in the bonfire which might actually be a record. (Could have to do with the fact that there was a “smoking room” in the basement therefore negating the necessity of freezing your fucking ass off out in the backyard.) It was Edmonton people. They know how to do cold.

Part 2 TEETH

I got two fillings today. This means that I had two itty bitty tiny cavities (and one more that I will have done in Feb.) I have giant crevasses in my molars. So big that if you fell into one, unlike your unsuccessful attempt in the backyard with the shovel, if you fell in you would actually end up in China. Hang out in any dive shop world wide and you’ll hear old seasoned pros saying shit like “Mariana’s Trench? Pfft! That’s nothing man, you ever dove Kim’s molars?”

Ok, Ok, I get that cavities aren’t exactly earth shattering news…….

UNLESS YOU ARE 40 AND THESE ARE THE FIRST MUTHERFUCKING FILLINGS YOU’VE EVER RECEIVED IN YOUR ENTIRE FUCKING “HOLY MARY MOTHER OF DOG LOOK HOW PERFECT MY TEETH ARE” LIFE!!!!!

So my dentist tells me that they might be Steve’s fault. Introducing new bacteria, sharing a toothbrush now and then, and he, though blessed with good teeth, hadn’t seen a dentist in about a decade. She said if I’ve gone my whole life without them, chances are.. Steve is the culprit.

So… My fucking husband gave me cavities. They feel like soft weird gum stuck in my teeth that I am rubbing my tongue raw with while trying to dig it out. THEY SUCK ASS!!!! However, given my obvious fear, the dentist switched into “I’m working on a 8 year olds mouth” mode and patiently explained everything that was about to happen. At the end, she even walked me to the “treasure chest” so that I could pick something out. I chose a plastic ring with a green stone.

I’d like to say I’m kidding about that last part, but I’m not.

Part 3 Presents

It’s less than 2 weeks to Christmas, DID YOU NOT READ PART TWO??????? MY HUSBAND GAVE ME CAVITIES!!!!

Considering all the crazy antics and stories of my father and his 9 siblings it really should be shocking that they all made it to adulthood rather than us all being socked that one of the ten have died. And yet we are. I will fly out on Friday to be with my enormous crazy clan for the wake where we will have long loud cheers and toasts amid sobs.

My favorite Uncle Tim story has him in an “altered state” (wink wink) while doing some work on the eaves troughs. So impressed was he with his handy work that he took a few steps back to admire the completed job. While taking those steps back it had completely slipped his mind that he was on a ladder, 2 stories up. It was good for a laugh and like every other mishap (the axe and the bonfire comes to mind) he was fine.

Until this time when he wasn’t.

RIP Patrick Timothy Holden. I will hope that they have beer there.

xoxo