poke, poke, poke

Let’s start with the outfit. I bought this skirt, many years ago, from the Goodwill in Chico. It is a bit tighter these days but still has the same effect. I was very popular with guys and very unpopular with their girlfriends. Lots of positive smirks from the men and lots of scowls from their girlfriends. Taxi’s stopped for me, old men said things like “Schoenes Fraulein” (beautiful young woman). It was cool. The sweater use to be reasonably sized but then I washed it. Now I dry clean it. Oh well.

Did I ever share with you that at the Willie Nelson concert this summer we discovered what they call Kielbasa in Germany (polish sausage for you non-Poles)? Krakauer sausage. We were very excited by this discovery because we had stopped making Jambolaya as we could never get a good sausage. Anyhow, this weekend I decided that I had a craving for Jambolaya, so we bought some Krakauer sausage, which comes in a ring, and all the other stuff and Patrick started at 4:00 this afternoon to make us some. We invited Todd and Brandy and Sergio (who asked if the picture of me, mom and Andy at my graduation from Chico, was me and my sister!) because it makes so much and we end up throwing it out if we don’t invite more people. About a quarter into the process Patrick called me over to help. I yelped, but went to the kitchen and donned my dish gloves (which have pretty white cuffs with red roses on them). He had me grab 3 stalks of celery and wash them. No sweat! That done I went back to my various arranging (today was rearrange my earrings day! Welcome to Sunday in Germany!) So as I was deciding how to place my jewelry back in my cool Kate Spade jewelry case, he called again. I was a little perturbed because I had earrings to organize after all, but I went. And then it happened. ‘I need you to take that list of spices and put them together.’ I screamed! Why on earth would you want to risk your meal by having me do that?! He said I would be fine. So I looked at the list and took note of the measurements. 2 tablespoons, 2 1/2 teaspoons, 2 teaspoons and 1 1/2 teaspoons. I can see it now, 2 tablespoons White Pepper instead of 2 teaspoons. We’d all be fighting over the carton of milk (because water doesn’t help hot spicy food lose it’s sting). When I looked in the drawer only the 1/2 tablespoon was in there. ‘Oops, sorry the tablespoon is dirty, can’t help.’ He stopped the dishwasher. I opened it and my glasses were instantly fogged by the steam. I screamed ‘Argh I’ve been blinded by the dishwasher, can’t help.’ He glared. So I was out of excuses. I read the name of the spice, and he handed them to me. Our bottles aren’t labeled and it would have CERTAINLY been a complete disaster if I had gotten the spices myself. Luckily Chief Paul writes his recipes in order of qty, most first. So as soon as I didn’t need the tablespoon anymore, I put it in the sink. I checked, double checked and triple checked the measuring spoon I was using. Patrick helped count off how many teaspoons I had put in so far. Whew. In the end it worked out. Got my measurements right and it was some of the best Jambolaya in ages.

We won the Pub Quiz in Tuebingen Saturday night. It was Sarah, Carrie, Gayle and myself. We won by one question. My question, ‘What is the Corned in Corned Beef’. Why salt, of course. Now you are wondering how on earth a girl that is petrified to use multiple measuring spoons knows what the Corned in Corned Beef is. Simple, food allergy. See food that is high in salt makes me sick. Corned Beef is the WORST offender. I don’t think anyone else in the room got that one. The cool thing was we were tied for last place after he read the scores the first time, tied for second to last, the second time, one point from first place the third time, and squeaked out the win for the last round! An amazing comeback! We won Guinness t-shirts. Only thing was they were XL. Mine is on it’s way to my brother. It is really cool though. So if you see Andy walking around in a black t-shirt that has a big pint glass on the front and a small one on the back, that was my win!

OK Nana, I think you should skip the rest. You got the good parts and now I am going to talk about something, um, a bit sexual, a bit relationship. Best if you skip it…

So raise your hand if you understood the title of this week’s coffee talk? OK now send me a mail cause I can’t see your hands raised. That game at all couples play…’ Honey, are you awake?’ That universal male habit of waking you up or at least bugging you right when you lay down to go to sleep, because they were too busy surfing the net earlier in the evening, and wanting sex. Why do they do that? Patrick and I have ‘Patrick and Heather Rules’. The extend to things like ‘everyone puts both toilet seats down’ but they also cover foreplay…no asking for sex AFTER we get in bed. Ask earlier like when we are both just sitting and surfing the net, then I might have the energy and interest, but not after I have brushed my teeth and changed into my jammies. Duh. Of course, this rule does not go the other way. If we get into bed and suddenly I am feeling a bit randy, well then, I can poke poke poke all I want. And guess what? I’ve never been turned down! Isn’t that funny? How even in a couple like us, there have to be open arrangements about sex. I consider myself a pretty, um, involved female, when it comes to our married sex life, but for the sheer fact we are married and our lives are evolving and moving forward and there are other responsibilities, like the cats, it isn’t possible to just stop what we are doing, whenever, and get down. When you are dating, there is no ‘future us’ that is assured. You aren’t usually saving money as a couple to buy a house, or working on said ‘fixer-upper’ that you have purchased. You’ve not got so much planned for tomorrow or the next week so why not just have sex? Anyhow, we have a quite satisfying sex life, plenty volume, plenty adventure (‘Patrick? Are you satisfied with our sex life?’ ‘ Yep!’ You can email him and ask), it just helps to have an understanding of where you are both coming from and the ‘poke, poke, poke’ thing is universal. Cheers.

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