I wasn’t planning on pimping out my nice straight food blog on my slightly batshit fucking crazy one but I have to share this. Go buy some of these oils and vinegars gang- they ship anywhere and the blood orange olive oil will is LIFE CHANGING! Seriously. DO IT!

ok- Pimping done. Carry on.

So after all of my whining (there was a lot that didn’t make it here- believe me- I can whine like a fucking Olympic athlete on a bucket full of banned substances.) this is what my husband brought home with him

No, sorry. You can’t have him so fuck off.

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.

I have been a baaaad blogger. Really though, I had a great excuse… You know, the whole honeymoon thing…. (wait- if we stay some of the trip in his parent’s house and some of the time in his sister’s caravan after nights of too many beers does it really count as a “honeymoon????”)

Steve stayed an extra week and is home tomorrow. Guess I have to ask the diving team camped out in the living room to leave. Sigh. Such a shame.

Now that I have officially changed my name I have inherited a very lovely 18 year old step daughter and a whole host of other family that were welcoming beyond belief. (Special mention for the superfantastic sister in law Cheri who smokes all of my cigarettes while I drink all of her beer. We are truly a match made in heaven.)

Yes, the trip was spectacular and once I finish busying myself with all of this married person stuff like ironing tea towels and ordering china, we shall resume our regularly scheduled programing.

(Ok, let’s be honest, if there really was ironing involved I totally wouldn’t have married him.)

Update….. Just heard that there is ironing involved. May have to rethink this.

My lovely friend Phaedra recently put up a post about feeling like an utter piece of crap only to have a random stranger say just the right thing at just the right time. A simple gesture that at any given time can mean the world. Or the difference between wanting to kick and scream and break shit vs. feeling like it just might be ok one day soon.

That post got me thinking about those times that this has happened to me. The small kindness, unexpected and unasked for, that takes you from where you were and puts you somewhere better. I am lucky enough to say that I have experienced a few and each and every time it almost stops my usual misanthropic outlook on the masses of people that swirl anonymously around me. I am going to list three of them here because it may remind us all that just a little bit can be an awful lot. I’m also listing them here because it’s my fucking blog and I can do whatever I want. You’re not the boss of me!

Sorry. I digress. Sometimes the bitch just leaks out even when I’m posting about unicorns and glitter and toilet paper commercial kittens. Ok, on to the glitter…

#1- I was laying on the grass enjoying a book and the sunshine in a local park. Suddenly a hand drops a flower beside my book and I cringe, waiting for the inevitable “Whattcha reading?” What he said was “It’s a beautiful day” and then just kept on walking.

#2-The quiet smiling cafe owner in Barcelona who put my lukewarm water bottle in her fridge to cool and sent her son down the street to locate the hostel I had been searching for in vain -in the blistering heat- for hours.

And my personal favorite;

#3- As teens we skipped school and went for coffee at “Lena’s” on a pretty regular basis. There would be several of us and we would sit drinking our free refill and shredding sugar packages for hours and usually have just enough to cover the bill. They definitely didn’t make any money on us. I remember skipping a class and heading over to Lena’s alone one day. My server was our usual, a rather tired looking middle aged woman who always made me think of my single mom struggling to make ends meet, and I sat there for a while sipping slowly, knowing I only had enough money for 1 coffee and it’s customary top up. She came over and gave me an extra refill and called me “Sugar.” For some reason, just the way she called me that- this snot nosed non-tipping teenager- almost made me cry. I remember feeling terrible that I couldn’t leave her a tip when I left and I think she knew. She smiled at me and said “hope to see you soon”  and I honestly think she meant it. That waitress all those years ago is the reason that I still use endearments like honey or sweetheart with friends and strangers alike. I remember how warm it made me feel.

So how about we all go out and try to make someone feel warm tomorrow? And if anyone says “Pay it forward” I’ll kick them right in the teeth. I fucking hate that phrase. La la la, happy happy unicorns and glitter.

Well, it official.

I’ve got me some damn fine boobs. Ok, Ok, I do have to go back every 6 months, but at this point in time I’ve got a grade AA medically approved rack.

Ok, you can all go back to what you were doing now. There’s nothing to see here except a chick in a really low and tight Mad-Men worthy sweater.

**enter large sigh of relief here**

Big thanks again to Kathryn @ Owen Imaging. This was our day…….