Now that Mr Trump has well and truly arrived, I have taken some steps to reduce the time I spend on blogging. I think I need to get out more. And that seems to be working.
On Wednesday evening I cooked some pork porterhouse steaks for Anne and myself which went down very well. Once again prepared by Woolworths. I just heated them up in my large cast-iron saucepan. A Greek salad went with it. Anne brought over some Camembert that had to be cooked (!) as an appetizer and that was quite good too.
Anne stayed over so for breakfast next morning, we got pies from the Yeronga pie shop and took them down to the Yeronga waterfront to eat them. We were not quite sure where we would end up so Anne took her nice mainly red checked travel rug along in case we had to sit on the ground. It turned out that there was a seat where we ended up but Anne brought her rug with her to the seat anyway. The pies were good but messy to eat.
When we left Anne forgot her rug, leaving it on the seat. We went back to get it but could not again find the place where we had been. It is a real rabbit warren around Orsova st. So that was vexing. We must have driven around for over half an hour but neither of us could figure out where to go.
Anyway, Anne stayed on so that night we went to the pub at the Woollongabba fiveways for dinner. The chicken schnitzel dinner there was quite good. And the pots of Fourex Gold helped too.
Then on Friday night we went to the Yeronga RSL club for dinner, as we had had good food there in the past. It was buffet night and they had a big range of tempting offerings, of which I tried many. A very good night. Again with pots of Fourex Gold helping.
Then on Saturday morning we took pies from the Fiveways pie shop down to the park at the end of Kangaroo Point. Again the pies were good. The outlook onto the Brisbane river was pleasant too.
Anne had various arrangements with choirs and such things for the rest of the weekend but my social life still carried on. Ken arranged a BBQ at his house on Saturday afternoon for us to spend time with Paul while he is still here. He is just back from NZ and flies back to Scotland on Monday. Suz and Russ and the kids were there too. I arrived at about 3pm and the BBQ was about 5pm. Paul and I talked a bit about Chris Brand's illness. Chris was in a very bad way but is now convalescing. We both hope that he will be able to keep company with Paul in Edinburgh for a few years yet.
We very daringly talked about the big no-no for modern conversations: Mr Trump. Mr Trump has replaced religion and politics as something that is too divisive to discuss socially. There seemed generally to be at least guarded approval of Mr Trump. Even Ken said he was glad to see Trump elected -- but mainly because Ken loathed Hillary. He would not be alone in that. Feminism is all very well but it's not a good way to get the male vote, as Julia Gillard also found out.
At one stage I was talking to the kids and mentioned that only girls have dolls. Both Sahara and Dusty agreed with that. My ideas about sex-roles are very much accord with both biology and tradition. But perhaps in an effort at modernity, Ken said to Dusty: "but boys these days sometimes have dolls too". Dusty's reply to that was memorable. He said "AAARRGGH!" -- a real boy.
Ken was a very diligent BBQ cook, turning over the snags all the time. They were thin snags -- pork, I think. And the end result was just right. I enjoyed them greatly.
I have always showed my complete lack of class by CUTTING my bread rolls instead of tearing them apart by brute force. Cutting them helps to get them buttered evenly in my opinion. I even have a big breadknife for the purpose and have donated a similar knife to Anne for use at her place. So I was rather pleased to see that Ken has adopted the same practice. He has a big knife which he keeps in its own sheath for the purpose of cutting bread rolls (Inter alia, one presumes). He had better not let any of his relatives in England see it, though.
Do you see what I did above? I immediately restored my class position by using a Latin expression. It's crazy but it is very British.
And I got good farewell cuddles as I left the party: from Elise, Sahara and Dusty. What more could one ask?
And tomorrow morning I should be sharing our usual Sunday morning breakfast with Joe.
UPDATE: I did indeed break fast with Joe on Sunday morning. We talked mainly about Mr Trump and the reactions to him. One thing I mentioned was something that seems rarely mentioned: His beloved and devoted daughter Ivanka is married to a Jew and has herself converted to Judaism. So the constant Leftist accusation that Donald is a racist and an antisemite jars greatly with that reality.
But on the same day I also had lunch with an old friend: Peter H. We were in the army together long ago so it was well and truly time to catch up. We had a very good lunch at the "Memorizable" Chinese restaurant at Buranda -- where the Sing Sing used to be. It's a strange name for a Chinese restaurant and is quite new so does not appear on the internet at the moment. The food was great. I had satay lamb and Peter had beef with vegetables. The cook there knows his stuff.
We had no trouble finding things to talk about. We have both had a quite varied life after the army. So it was a most congenial occasion. I remembered Peter from way back as a nice guy -- and he still is.
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