Cocktail demons

Lou and her mother have cracked the recipe for some hot cocktail that they have when they're skiing, made with advocat, rum and whipped cream. Clare and Lou were making a batch at the weekend. I think they were enjoying it - Lou was telling me the story and that they 'put too much rum in so we had to dilute it with advocat'.

Dilute it? With Advocat???

Machines are evil

This is the message that our boiler gives us if we expect it to heat the house for more than three hours at a time:

That is seriously taking the piss.

It snowed again! Twice in one year - very unusual. Here are some pics:

Out of my window. There is a quite fit bloke who lives in one of the houses opposite and also a fat loony bloke who was hanging out of his window naked this morning directing the cars trying to get out of the lane. Nice.

Quite a groovy snowman in the park. I think if he was real and alive and stuff he would be a snowboarder. What do you think?

The Grove looking rather pretty.

More snowmen outside the Assembly Halls. Quite ingenious use of grass I thought. Is it hair? A wig? A tam o' shanter? A sophisticated Phillip Treacy hat??

Well done children of T Wells who made the most of school (mainly) being cancelled. And for me for making it to my first aid course. And for all the other people who made it too, including one girl who had to extract her car from a bush when she slid off the road on the way. Impressive.

What is it with men?

I'm sure someone once told me that if you show a man any interest they will immediately think that they will likely be getting some action at some point.

At what point in the Feminism cycle did this situation reverse?

Both Dear Flatmate and I have been sort of seeing blokes recently and thinking that perhaps, after quite some time, this would be the start of Something. But no. Apparently blokes are now supposed to do the leading on.

Well, dammit, NO! That is not the way it is, you men out there. Emancipated woman is now allowed to speak her mind, but she does not want to have to do the club-bashing and dragging back to cave routine herself these days. I for one am very pleased to be looked after and ushered through doors and so on.

So instead of spending hours agonising about what not to do in case one appears clingy / desperate / stalkerish, how best to write carefully drafted light, unpressured but definite texts etc, DF and I have decided that these men are not worthy of our emotional efforts, and they can, quite frankly, stuff it. If they want us now they are going to have to work at it. Which is quite the way it should be.

More tea while we wait, darling?