Thursday, June 24, 2010

Rhubarb Obsession Continues...


Today I became a woman

I made JAM! Rhubarb and Rosemary Jam and it was a celebrated success.

All you had to do was let 450 g of rhubarb simmer with 450 g of caster sugar, stirring continuously and then grate 1 lemon rind (which i found out today a little bit late is the yellow bit of the lemon skin) into it with a little fresh rosemary, bring it to a boil for 10 minutes and VOILA!

It made alot less than expected so next time i would probs do about 500g of rhubarb and sugar. A half filled jar looks a bit stingey.

And yes I did have a grand time labelling them and yes that makes me super cool and not a nerd with too much time on my hands. Ya dig?

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

17 Going on 70

Bedtime generally arrives around 9:30. Saturday nights now mean Midsommer Murders and taste testing every type of tea in my cupboard. Money is spent mostly on pretty cardigans, stockings and funny brooches and when people ask how I possibly have so much free time my answer is simple. I am underage.
We are the forgotten ones. Those cut down in our prime, old before we ever had a real chance to be young. Those who would probably have a better chance of finding a like-minded soul in a retirement home. We are the December babies.
I am sure I am not alone. Everyone around you has turned 18 and suddenly you seem to be seeing less and less of them. Sound familiar? So here I offer you fellow doomed youngens advice on how to fake it.

1. drink beer ginger beer. Delicious and deceptive. Try convincing your people that it is a new, foreign, ginger flavoured beer.*
2. hang outside A barrier is just a challenge. Advise your friends to sit in the smokers section. Unpack the fold away chair in your backpack and join them. Sipping ginger beer could add to the illusion.
3. stay up really late This could be a good time to catch up on your studies. Whatever it is you decide to do in the wee hours of the morning be sure to not hit the pillow until you are sure you have sufficiently screwed up your body clock. That way in the afternoon you can wake up at the same time as your friends and go around saying how late you got to bed.

Frankly being youthful sounds rather exhausting. I don’t know why I expect everything to change once my day comes. The next Saturday I will probably still be here, in front of the telly with my little crocheted blanket covering my knees, watching another murder mystery unravel.

*I cannot guarrantee how effective this is but if you find someone who is not entirely fluent in English you may have hit the jackpot