Tomorrow is my birthday. I will be setting out, laden with goodies for lunch tomorrow, for the eco house and nature red in tooth and claw. (The screams and yells from the surrounding countryside every night, and the foot prints and paw prints in the garden every morning make the oak doors seem less costly than they did when chosen).
Lunch will be tarragon-buttered chicken and trimmings, as I am cooking it and it needs to be quick and almost attentionless as I will be taken up with opening presents and reading, wearing, and drinking them. My main hopes are for:
a Drizeabone. While not sure quite what it is it keeps appearing in Australian detective stories and I want one.
a ute. Ditto.
one of the tiny computers that cost very little but can be carried everywhere and work from a dongle. I am a macperson but it won't work with the dongle, in the hills, so I have to use Mr HG's pc which is full of important things I might accidentally compromise or even delete. (Not that he would mind, he knows so much all sorts of stuff could disappear from his external world and it wouldn't matter.)
a new handbag.
a glass cover for the pool so I can swim in winter.
moccasini from Monti in piazza Duomo (oxblood, very soft).
story books.
a trip to Berlin.
ditto St Petersburg.
a dacha.
a parrot.
There will be a barbie in the evening which will be cooked by men - they do the fire and red meat thingie.
update:
This was supposed to go on Monculi but never mind. I would like as well some matching gloves for the moccasini.
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13 comments:
Gorgeous. I hope you get all that you wish for HG....no chocolate crafted by nuns?
Best wishes for a happy birthday.
"a Drizeabone." A very fine mackintosh - it looks particularly fetching with the Aussie variety of cowboy hat. Tell your man.
"a ute." A pick-up, customarily driven with a dingo-like cur sitting on the flatbed. Would nicely complement the coat and titfer.
I keep wondering about a dog, Deariemie. And most of the dogs round here look like a cross between finest hunting dog and wolf.
Driving up I had to pass a number of shot boar, marked by branches and left for later collection. Yes, I know, Raedwald explained it all, about deer and it's sure to be true about boar. But they were so very alive....
Still, a ute would be handy for carrying them down to the village.
Thank you S.
I thought nuns crafted penances not choccies , L. Must be the IBVM.
You have a lovely birthday, Ms. Girl. Glorious autumn day her, once the mists had cleared.
And you are quite right, it is us men who do the fire and red meat thingie. Such prowess we have. It's A Man's World, as Mr. Brown (James) once said.
EK's blog has a very funny picture, just in case you haven't seen it.
"Ute" as in utility. Shotgun in back obligatory. Redneck in back obligatory. Somerset. Tennessee. Can your man do redneck?
I was once given some exquisite chocolate crafted by nuns, HG. Sevillana nuns, and there were almonds in the chocolate....
Elby wants a Drizabone too, HG. Fantastic for walking the dog or being stuck out in the rain for any reason.
Have a great time Hats!
Your list is impressive - but where are the smellies?
I need to have these things as a last resort, but Mrs S told me that they go 'off' after so long, and that all that dosh has been wasted after a few months...
(ps I still have a bottle of some cologne which came from a relation who travelled first class everywhere... It still smells great!)
HG: Happy Birthday, Hope you all have a great day. (Barbecued steak, chicken, sausages, brochettes etc always leave me with raging indigestion for some reason).
Re your list of "requirements", why not just bung them all on your credit card like the rest of the world? You know it makes sense...
tiny laptop a v good investment, saves much strain on back, a utilitarian comment but a heartfelt one
many happy returns, HG
It was a great day. Thank you for the good wishes.
There seems to be a business opportunity for an Australian shop selling Drizabones, utes and dogs that go in them.
Age shall not wither her,. I love the taset of tarragon with chicken by the way
N, it always seems essentially French, buttery tarragon.
I'm coming over to yours to make a remark as I don't understand what you're saying about the Conservative conference.
ps no, I'm not withered - yet.
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