Celebration time…

…Woo hoo!

I’m unsure which famous artiste sang that particular song- maybe some helpful blogger- follower will tell me. However, we have had a couple of celebration times (woo hoo!) in Boyle Bungalow lately, and I just thought I’d bore you all witless by telling you all about them. Ready? Sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin..

Celebration One was Thanksgiving. I don’t usually celebrate it, but Carly(Jamie’s ex but she’s still part of the family..don’t ask.. just don’t..) usually spends Christmas with us. This year, however, she is going to see her dad in Canada for Christmas, so we decided to do a nice Thanksgiving dinner with her instead. I spent several days trying to fix a date everybody could manage (So the Thurs is good for you? But not the Friday? And I can’t do Wednesday..) and fix the menu ( Mashed potatoes AND roast? ) and another few hours trying to thread popcorn on strings to decorate… and then finally about two hours of perplexed internet  searching to find out what the hell was the deal with the candied yams.

Because candied yams, my leetle chums, are sweet potatoes, cooked in brown sugary water, sprinkled with more brown sugar and butter, and then you put marshmallows all over the top! I wondered for a minute whether I might have got two pages of the internet stuck together somehow, and got half of another recipe in there…but eventually I decided that I could not going to my grave without tasting candied yams, so I made ‘em anyway.

We also had spicy butternut squash soup, followed by turkey, gravy, roast potatoes, cranberries, mashed potatoes, vegetables, stuffing, pigs in blankets, and bread sauce. Then apple pie (home made) and three kinds of Ben and Jerry ice cream. Jamie and Jack were two big feartie buggers, and refused the candied yams, but everybody else thought they were strangely right with a bit of turkey and cranberry.

Carly has now left on a jet plane and doesn’t know when she’ll be back again, to coin a song. Hope she has a lovely snowy time.

Next in the celebrations was (ahem) my fiftieth. Yes, I know I don’t look a day over forty nine. It is also my workmate Kellie’s 21st in a few weeks so we decided to go the whole hog and have a joint celebration. Kellie had her heart set on a pink limo, so off we set on, the foggiest night of the year, with our glass of bubbly in one hand and our sparkly tiaras in the other for an hour’s  drive.  After about five minutes of whooping we all got a bit fed up with that, and it was far too cold to open the window and whoop out to passing strangers. So we had some more bubbly, although privately  I would have welcomed a nice cup of tea, and started talking about work. Then Lesley, who regular blog readers will recall is not the best of travellers, felt a bit sick. The rest of the journey was spent with Lesley gazing fixedly out of the front window assuring the rest of us that she would be fine, and the rest of us wondering quietly what the limo driver would do if she heaved  up in the champagne bucket.

Once back at the house, Jamie had set up a pal’s “Sing Star” game for us- a bit like Karaoke for the Playstation.  Lesley had got some colour back into her cheeks by then, and she and I gamely launched into a bit of Tina Turner, followed by Nickleback. Kellie had a shot at Natalie Imbruglia, and Irene insisted she was too shy.

A lot of the songs were fairly recent, and Lesley and I agreed that the maufacturers were missing a trick by not bringing out a “Cheesy Weegie Wedding” set. You could have a bit of Sidney Devine, some Jim Reeves, and Donald Where’s Your Troosers, and you would be fighting middle aged  Glaswegian woman back from the shelves. Lesley also voted for “Paper Roses”as that always seemed to be a favourite at any wedding, usually preceded by her uncle getting very drunk and shouting “Wan Singer, Wan song” as he fell up the stairs of the stage. Ah, happy days indeed. My favourite at Weegie weddings was always  “memories… in the corner of yer MIND…..” or I had a work mate who always let rip with “The Barmaid At the Inn At Inverarie” (Oan the twenny fifth o’ JOOOON, I’ll be oan ma hunny MOOOON…”)

Another possibility for songs was a Cockerney  one- but since I know all the words to “My ole man’s a dustman”  I just did my best Pearly Queen impression anyway- no tape needed. I’m regretting it now though- my knees are killing me and it was either that or my Tina Turner that’s to blame.

The next day, Mhairi had told me to keep free- and refused to answer any more questions. She and Jack had got something planned , and all Jack would say was that I might scream. This worried me rather- white water rafting? Abseiling?? It turned out to be tickets to see Bill Bailey’s Remarkable Guide To the Orchestra, and readers -I did scream. It was in the Usher Hall and I loved every moment of it. Our seats were quite  high up which was a little scary, but the moment Bill walked out on the stage, we forgot all about that.  I managed to get the last train home, and now feel a little jaded after so many days of party food, cake and copious ammounts of wine.

Sparkling water tonight only- promise.

Hopefully in my next blog there will be some Millport news- Happy Christmas to you all in the meantime.