Birthday brownies

It was The Mother's birthday yesterday, and instead of making her a birthday cake, I made her these birthday brownies:



I wish I'd made more now, as I'm hungry!

The Incubus

"Right. That's it" I muttered. "I can't wait up any longer, I'm too tired. I'm going to bed. Are you coming?"
"Not just yet" SP replied, clearly perfectly happy sprawled on the sofa watching one of those ubiquitous home improvement shows, a bowl of popcorn in his lap.
I sighed. "Well, if he shows up, you'll have to entertain him on your own. And don't make too much noise. 'night" I said, leaning over to kiss him before walking out of the room. "And you've retired, so don't go getting ideas" I scolded, leaning around the doorframe*.
SP just 'hmmphed' before turning his attention to the TV once more.

~ ~ ~

Upstairs, as I lay in bed on the verge of sleep, I became aware of a strangely rhythmic groaning, choking sound. I deduced that, because of its muffled nature, it must've been coming from next door, and promptly fell asleep.

~ ~ ~

The next morning, I left SP in bed - He'd obviously managed to sneak up during the early hours of the morning without waking me and was now dead to the world. After washing and putting my contacts in, I went downstairs to open the paysho doors and let some air in. Turning around to head for the living room windows and open the blinds, I started!
Our tardy guest Marcolt, an Incubus who served in the same legion of Hell as SP, was gingerly sitting - almost hovering, really - on a pile of cushions on the sofa.
"Gods!" I snapped ignoring what I took to be a massive yawn. "You gave me a fright. Wherever did you get to last night?"
Marcolt pointed up and through the wall towards next door's son's bedroom (which happened to be adjacent to ours), all the while trying to forceably close his mouth with his well manicured hands. His flawless, lightly tanned skin was stretched taut over his handsome, late-20s looking face as he struggled. I was confused until, from the corner of my eye, I saw next door's 18 year old son - well, his head from over the fence - looking tired but VERY pleased with himself as he staggered into his garden for, what I now realised was a post-coital cigarette!
"I 'ouldn't 'esist" Marcolt confessed through his still wide-open, lock-jawed mouth. "'e 'oz 'o 'ig 'at I 'ought 'e 'oz' a 'ower 'ot a 'rower."
I was incredulous. "So, you bit off more than you could chew, eh?" I retorted, pleased at my quick wittedness. My smugness didn't last long, however, as I then realised why he was practically hovering over the cushions: What he couldn't fit in his mouth, he obviously managed to fit somewhere else!



* Which is perfectly normal-sized, thank you.

Happy birthday...

Yes, it's Dinah's birthday today. This handy and astonishing Coven member may appear to be in her early twenties (although, she has only been seen from behind* in her adult form**), but she's actually 497 years old today!
While witches don't usually attain such a lifespan, Dinah, like myselves, got caught up in a temporal mishap***, hence her advanced age.

Anyway, enough of that. Let's just wish her a happy birthday before clicking on the links at the side there to find someone older.

Happy birthday, Dinah!



* Not like that you filthsome minded lot!
** That makes her sound like she started out life as a grub then pupated into a fully grown human. To my knowledge, that is not how Dinah grew up. Unless...?
*** A story for another time.

Filthy Friday

Well! I've never been so insulted. If you really must see the filth that's on offer, go. Go! And never darken my doorstep again!

Well, not until the next time I post, that is.


P.S. It really is NSFW, so don't even think about it.

Premonition

Possibly on Friday?

Yet another boring post with pictures of someone else's garden

OK, so we made it to the exotic garden last weekend, and here, finally, are the pictures:












That's SP in the white T-shirt at the back.









And that, my friends, is that. Suffice it to say, if anyone knows where time is very quickly escaping to, please let me know.

Exotica

This is just a fleeting visit to let you know of a new link in my sidebar, under the title: These are a few of my favourite things... And the link takes you to Will Giles' Exotic Garden here in the fine city* of Norwich, Norfolk. I've also added Will's blog to my Flying Monkeys.

Before I moved in with SP - when bitter Spinsterhood had almost claimed me for eternity - I used to live just down the road from Will's wondrous garden and spent many a Sunday afternoon poking around in the lush jungle. Now however, Smug Marriedness has thwarted many attempts at visiting despite only being three miles away. I do have high hopes of dragging SP there this Sunday, though.

Here are a few photos I took whilst visiting the garden last September:














Of course, you should click the links to see better photos than mine...



* Despite Tim's claims to the contrary, Norwich IS a city.

There's Something About Mary Poppins

I see someone's met the real Mary Poppins, without her entourage of PRs, publicists, lawyers and general hanger-ons twisting the truth into something less evil more friendly. I wonder if he lived?



I never did like that Poppins. She gave the rest of us a bad name.

Stolen Scirocco

This Volkswagon Scirocco 2.0 litre GT was stolen on Thursday 2nd July.

Between six and seven in the morning, someone broke into Tim's parents' house specifically to find the keys to his Big Bro's car. It looks like it was a professional job - that they'd scoped the house out and took every precaution against leaving any identifiable evidence. And when they found the keys, they took it.
There aren't many of them around in this colour - with the DSG semi-automatic gearbox and a full black cloth interior, registration number LM58 NNC. It's been his pride and joy for the last three months, and on 2nd July it was stolen.

If you see this car, please report it to the police immediately.

Please click the link at the top to go to Tim's original post about this theft, or click here.

With any luck, the now cursed (and hopefully pox-ridden) scum who stole this car will be caught, and the car reunited with it's rightful owner.

Keep your eyes peeled! And, thank you.

Update

One of the things I've been up to is spending, spending, spending! Not on clothes, socialising*, food or Car (even though it needs it), but at that institute of Smug Marriedness: The Garden Centre.
Not a weekend (nor even a weekday in some weeks) has gone by without a purchase or twelve at these hallowed hubs of horticultural heaven.
Accordingly, my bank balance has gone from a healthily glowing black - somewhat like the eyes of a feeding vampire - to nearing the deranged red hate of those of a freshly castrated demon.

Immolation DeVize's scarily accurate Counselor Troi eyeing up Picard's jugular
(boobs and hairpiece not his own)

I think it'll be worth it though. Just look at these before and after photos:

Before (from 02/05/09)





After (from 29/06/09)

I'll put some more up at the end of summer once everything's become established and filled out.

Anyway, there was a little something to be going along with. I'll try and post again soon. I may even have time for a quick skip around the blogs. See you out there!


* skips off *

* CRASH! tinkle *

Bugger.

* resolves never to skip wearing SP's flip flops again and hobbles off nursing a scraped knee *




* This doesn't happen often anyway. SP and I both loathe going out, much preferring an evening in with wine, crap TV** and Moom.
** SP likes the crap TV, such as Police Chase 9, Britain's Got Talent and Ground Force. I prefer more highbrow fare such as Being Human, Ugly Betty and Grey's Anatomy.

Spoken too soon

No, there's nothing wrong with all the technological gubbins that enabled me to come back to Blogland. Instead, the "imminent crossing over of a very close relative of SP's" as I mentioned in the last post, has happened. So, needless to say, I've been occupied with things other than blogging. However, we have had an unexpected trip over The Cusp and a couple of paranormal close encounters, so I shall be recounting those 'adventures' in due course.

In the meantime, I hope you are all well and firing on all thrusters. See you soon!

They're here!

Yes, we're back! All four of us - Thankfully, we managed to lose that interfering old baggage, Audrey, somewhere in the ether.
While we're pleased to return the realm of Blogland - via the wonders of a wireless router (that was surprisingly easy to set up once we got hold of an ethernet cable that actually worked) - it seems someone is even more pleased, eh Tim?



Ha!

Anyway, back to the point: This means, of course, that I won't have to surreptitiously blog from work - Although, never say never. Instead, I can blog from the uncomfort of my - sorry SP - our home. I say "uncomfort" because, as you can see in the picture, the study is bereft of comforts such as a desk, chair, houseboy etc...

Suffice it to say, I won't be online for long each time I log on due to the general physical aches caused by the distinct lack of ergonomics. Plus, due to the imminent crossing over of a very close relative of SP's, I won't be about every day as I'm trying to be as supportive as I can. All be it in my emotionless, robotic, cold-fish way.
So, before this gets too long-winded, I'm thrilled to be amongst you once again, and I'm looking forward to catching up on all that you've been up to.
I'm sure you've all been good...?