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(aka Bike) Part 1958 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad
All Rights Reserved. |
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The stew was delicious and Simon got his hands on my dumplings–well, I’m not too keen on them and he is–and they’ll be furring up his arteries instead of mine. Afterwards, in bed, we discussed the following day and what it could bring.
“So, what’s she like this Geraldine woman?” asked Simon as we lay back after reading for a bit.
“I have no idea, but I suspect she’s likely to be slightly older than Jacquie.”
“You have no idea about the woman your daughter is planning on getting hitched to?”
“No, Si, I have no idea, but I’m sort of intuiting that she’s a graduate of some sort and slightly older, but that’s it.”
“What if she’s much older?” he threw back.
“Then she won’t need me, will she? She’ll have found a permanent mother figure.”
“Isn’t she supposed to go for a father substitute?”
“Yeah, but the only eligible bachelors of your sort of wealth and status are Arabs.”
“I suppose they are, or Russian oligarchs with their own oil wells.”
“Compared to them, your money is relatively honest.”
“Gee thanks, Cathy, that was a back handed compliment if ever I heard one.”
I blushed and giggled, I hadn’t thought about it before it came out of my mouth, he did start tickling me, but that always makes me wet myself, and when I climbed on top of him and dared him to tickle me then, he changed his mind and kissed me instead. I won’t detail what happened then because it’s none of your business and this isn’t a porn story.
The next morning I was still a bit sore from our gymnastics, so settled for a quick bath–before I could finish, I had at least two aliens sharing it with me, and when I got out, the third got in. I suspect Cate would have scrambled in as well, except I promised her some breakfast and her stomach rules her life.
Breakfast seemed to take forever, normally, it’s all over in about half an hour and then the cleanup takes another twenty minutes, especially if Fiona is chucking her food about–amazing the range she has for something so small.
David had come in to check on the pork joint which had been cooking all night in the slow oven, he basted it and shoved it in the faster oven on the Aga to begin forming crackling. It was going to be delicious, I just knew it.
By the time we’d cleared up and left him to sort the dinner, and I’d changed into something half decent–no not a skirt–but a pair of cords in royal blue and matching, in colour at least, scoop necked top with long sleeves. Simon was also tidily dressed as were the children.
It was now after eleven and I didn’t want to start doing anything and have to leave it, so we opted to lay the table which took longer than usual, Livvie and Trish squabbling over what went where. Then Meems got involved despite me asking her not to and she got upset and flung her doll at me which to everyone’s amazement, I caught before it demolished a decorative fern I had in the dining room.
In the end I asked Si to light the fire in the sitting room which he wasn’t too keen on–“But it’s Scotland Ireland this afters,” he protested backing down when he thought I might murder him.
“You can always watch it over the internet.”
“Yeah but, your computer has a fifteen inch screen and the one in the lounge has a forty two inch.”
“If you felt that strongly about it why didn’t you get tickets and go and watch it?”
“They don’t have action replay and my wife said I couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t what?”
“Play away.”
“How wise of her,” I suggested and glared at him.
“Whit are ye twa fechtin’ oer, this time?”
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to guess at what he said or ask for a translator before I pleaded anything. Simon seemed to understand him and told him what I’d asked him to do.
“Weel, whit are ye waitin for? An’ mind I want tae see yon match tae.”
I think he told Simon to get a move on, I almost asked for the action replay so I could decipher every word. Either way, it was a result and I left him to it, Daddy almost appearing to supervise–though why, I wasn’t sure as he can’t light it either. Danny did it last time but he was finishing his homework. It was funny how he discovered he had some to do after he came back in yesterday rather than before he went out.
It was now half past eleven and the butterflies were beginning to gather and they made the autumn collection of Monarch butterflies in Mexico to over winter there, insignificant in comparison. So I did what I always do when faced with this level of anxiety–I put the kettle on.
The smell of the meat cooking was heavenly, I nearly dragged it from the oven and ate it with my bare hands it smelt so good and I realised I’d had no breakfast, just made sure everyone else did. So much for multitaskling.
I made tea and poured David a cup. He was making some sort of roulade for dessert and whipping cream, not a la Indiana Jones, but more Nigella–oh boy if I told him that he’d be disgusted with me.
The joint was in the fan oven to make the crackling which the kids were all asking for. I usually resisted the urge to gain half a stone from one meal, because crackling is sort of charred skin and fat, which is chewy, crunchy and very sweet and about ten thousand calories per mouthful. I suspect it might be a British thing because you never see it mentioned in American literature but then they eat squash and grits or is it squits and grash? Either way it sounds awful no wonder so many come to live over here.
A car came trundling up the drive but I didn’t recognise the man who got out–man? That couldn’t be Jerry then, unless Jacquie was holding out big time. Daddy went to see what he wanted. It transpired he was delivering a new phone directory or two.
David was showing me a way to whip cream with a whisk and how to make it whip more quickly when another car came up the drive–he glanced out of the window and sprayed cream all over my top. I could have cried or hit him or both. Instead I gasped then ran upstairs to grab something else before everyone else saw Jerry before me.
It turned out they did. I’m not sure what I was expecting but it wasn’t what we got. She was a bit older than Jacquie, I’d say about my age–mother substitute? I wasn’t sure. She was elegant and quite beautiful, wearing a very nice pair of DK jeans with an angora cardi over a lovely silk blouse. But that wasn’t what you noticed immediately, neither was the fact she was black. It was the fact that she was about six feet tall and in heels, she was as tall as Simon if not more so.
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Comments
Well, I must admit that
meeting her was quite a surprise for Cathy. Bet that Geraldine has a history that'll make for another few great chapters.
May Your Light Forever Shine
If it helps
Squash are simply a variety of gourd, like pumpkin. Grits are the ground version of corn (maize), much like oatmeal is that of oats, and 'cream of wheat' is the same for wheat.
If it's very coarsely ground, it's called 'hominy' (roughly)
I'll get a life when it's proven and substantiated to be better than what I'm currently experiencing.
Grits and Squash
Specifically, grits are the endosperm of maize. They are a Southern U.S. thing and rather tasteless.
Squash comes in several varieties and, if well prepared, is quite tasty. Zucchini is a very popular type. Spaghetti squash is another, interesting, variety.
G/R
Further Explanation
And by endosperm, we mean germ, like wheat germ. It's basically the center part of the kernel that they remove in milling corn meal. It has a higher oil content and would be subject to rancidity faster. So, corn grits is to corn as wheat germ is to wheat, except not as tasty.
Squash isn't a word used much of vegetables in England, but for fruit flavored soft drinks. What we Americans call zucchini is marketed there as courgettes when small and marrows when somewhat overgrown and thicker-skinned. Pumpkins and winter squashes (acorn, butternut, etc.) aren't commercially grown there, probably because they need a very long growing season.
Um, no
Grits are mostly the middle part of the kernel, not the inner which is germ, nor the outer which is bran. The middle is the blandest part of the grain, hardly any oil at all. Grits are the equivalent of the part of the wheat kernel, called middlings, that are used to make most white flours. Cream of Wheat is almost exactly equivalent to grits since it is mostly wheat middlings coarsely ground.
Don't believe Wikipedia that grits are made from hominy, they aren't. Hominy grits is a term for grits leftover from a time when hominy was just another name for maize and didn't mean the swollen naked kernels we call hominy today. The Wikipedia article is full of errors, though some of the talk in the discussion page is accurate. Nixtamalization (with lime or lye) is used to remove the bran for hominy, but AIR is used to remove the bran and germ in grits. During milling, air blows up through the grain, most of the bran is light and is blown away, much of the germ is heavy and falls through where it can be processed for oil, the grits are middling(!) heavy and continue to be processed until done.
Mills can produce finely ground corn meal or coarser grits, this can be done by either grinding longer or shorter time, or by adjusting the setting of the grinding surfaces which is more usual. Some corn meal has the germ added back for more nutrition, grits may have some germ left in, depending on processing but it is not added back: grits are bland on purpose. The link below describes another way to process corn to get corn meal, grits and corn bran all at the same time.
In the South, grits are used rather like Northerners use potatoes, especially for breakfast. Not that Southerners don't eat potatoes but many prefer grits. My grandmother hated them and was afraid that they would not serve potatoes in the hospital for breakfast. One of the last things she said to my grandfather before she died was, "Please don't let them make me eat grits." Despite my grandmother, grits are also eaten in some other countries, like Taiwan and Brazil.
Here's a page by a grits manufacturer talking about their process which is slightly different from what I have described: http://www.grits.com/discript.htm
Hugs,
Erin
= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.
Another note: Yummy Fried Grits
One of the most delicious things in the world is fried grits. Take a square pan full of grits and get it cold in the fridge. Take it out when grits are firm and turn it onto a cutting board. Slice mass of cold grits about 1/4 inch thick. Fry slices crisp and golden in hot vegetable oil. Drain on paper or cloth. Serve like pancakes with butter and syrup, honey, molasses or sorghum.
Damn! That sounds so good! I haven't had this in over a decade 'cause it is just too much to make for one person. If someone wants to come over and bring a bucket of sorghum, I will fry some sausages and grits and we will feast!
You can do this with corn meal mush, oatmeal porridge, cream of wheat or Malt-o-Meal but grits is best.
Hugs,
Erin
P.S. Sorghum is syrup made from sorghum cane, a kind of millet. Sometimes called sorghum molasses, but it isn't molasses.
P.P.S. People sometimes ask if grits is a singular or plural noun and the answer is no, or maybe, yes, depending.
- Erin
= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.
The best grits...
The best grits are coarse ground yellow grits and they are not bland! Add a little butter salt and pepper and they are a great delicacy! Many other things are wonderful with grits, adding cheese is very popular as is bacon but a couple of my personal favorites are with egg(preferably liquid yolk) or pesto.
Grits are one of those things you either love or detest, there doesn't seem to be any middle ground. One note though, take care while cooking them, they bubble and pop a bit and if you get that on you you'll know it, the stuff sticks to you like napalm.
Squash is its own subject. There are many different varieties with a range of flavors. There is even one type that can be used as a pasta substitute(Spaghetti squash). Somehow the concept of squash and grits being served on the same plate is just... odd.
Thanks for another great episode!
Abby
BTW, on crackling
Cracklin' is a Southern thing, too. Some people put bits of it in their cornbread, which I think is just wrong 'cause it makes the cracklin' soft instead of crunchy and leaves lumps in the cornbread.
Don't get me started on cornbread.
Hugs,
Erin
= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.
If I'm...
If I'm going to be eating Grits, I prefer to have some eggs over medium to cut up/mix with my grits... :-) Grew up eating them that way.
And, you're right, sorghum molasses is NOT 'lasses... If you get a recipe that calls for 'lasses, make sure it's pure cane 'lasses else it won't taste right. (By the way, you can't have molasses lessen you've had some 'lasses already.)
Annette
I did some research on
I did some research on molasses a while back...
Molasses isn't cane sugar, beet sugar, or sorghum. It's almost a catchall term for a specific product of the refinement of any sugar. (grapes is even mentioned)
So, you have to check the label. Most molasses is probably from sugarcane, but some might be sugar beets, and sorghum molasses is just that :)
I'll get a life when it's proven and substantiated to be better than what I'm currently experiencing.
It's VERY
It's VERY important to check the label! When cooking the difference between cane 'lasses or cane sugar and the others can make/break a recipe! And, it's not just due to the flavor, though that can be important. For example, if you're making candy (creams), beat sugar doesn't work the same way...
Annette
Tasteless
if you don't prepare it properly.
One of life's truly bad food choices is cheese grits, country ham, and white gravy. But it tastes so good.
Thankfully, traditional Southern cooking has not discovered that grits is polenta and we've not been subjected to grits with fungi and red gravy. Or any of the gourmet variations.
Squash is good food, if not boiled into oblivion and then mashed to death.
Cracklin is great snack food. nothing better than getting the leavings off a whole hog.
Do not confuse it with "pork rinds" which is pig flavored blown polystyrene plastic.
Bear
Bike 1958
And now back to that Bed Sine - You were Na this is not a Porn Story?? Ha Ha Now we got a 6 ft Blk Women for Jac opposite now! Hm interesting!
Richard
My...
My wife felt "small" once... It was while she was working on her PhD... Now, my wife's not a small lady (she's taller than I am)... But, once she felt small. She was on the elevator (going up) in the Chemistry research tower at UNC Chapel Hill... And, "some guy" named Michael Jordan got on the elevator... She said standing next to him she felt tiny. (She has no clue why he was taking the elevator UP in that building - unless it was to visit a girl friend or something.)
But, as to the sharks that shared her tub... Sounds like quite a large tub. There'd never have been room for any of those two legged sharkes in the tub with us... (At least when they were about 8 years old... At 1, it was doable.) Guess we're just "tub challenged". :-)
I'm a bit surprised Si wasn't interested in lighting the fire... Most guys (and quite a number of girls) are pyros at hart and jump at the opportunity to light fires.
Thanks for the story... (That lunch sounds awesome!)
Annette
Sounds like a mother figure to me too
I will offer one guess as to who is the dom in this relationship.
Hope Jacquie knows what she is getting into.
Sounds like she wants a female version of what Cathy has in Simon. Gerri looks like she is not short a quid or two.
Kim
Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?
Well, it certainly isn't Sidney Poitier! Somehow I don't any of the Cameron's are going to have any problems with Jacqui and Jerry, not with all the aliens of assorted gender/sex that are imposing on Tom, Simon, and Cathy for the duration.
Wonder if Simon will do a variation of Spencer Tracy's speech to his daughter and the man she loves?
Don't let someone else talk you out of your dreams. How can we have dreams come true, if we have no dreams?
Katrina Gayle "Stormy" Storm
Heightist.
Hope Cathy ain't heightist. (Tee hee hee) She'd better refrain from any stupid or tedious cliches.
And what is it with whipped cream and scoop necked blouses?
Good chapter gu-uurl.
Still lovin' it.
Bevs.
XX
Grits sounds horrible but it's not, it delicious. I've eaten it a dozen different ways all over the USA.
Conversly, in Britain grit is summat we spread on the roads in winter, It's naturally mined mineral salt and is spread like fine gravel. It would be very salty but totally indegestible and you'd probably smash your teeth if you tried to chew it. Ugh!
A t-girl maybe?
We shall see.
I like cracklings, but they aren't too common in the states, unless you count a certain fish fast food restaurant.