…or not…or give it to them undercooked…yes…undercooked because that would seal a miserable day!

Okay so a week or more has passed since my horrific brunch experience and I am still bitter…can you tell? In retrospect I should have written this piece a lot earlier when I was angrier but with Hubby being in China, entertaining girls during the summer vac, deciding to change my entire house around, I have not had much time to write…happy though, the playroom has been moved to the basement room and I now have a study with a window!

So we went to the establishment at 10:30 – that was the actual time we sat down. We ordered by 10:40 because I knew that the big rush would start around 11:30 and I wanted us to be practically done by then. We got our juices and waited patiently for our delicious brunch. And that we did – waited and waited and waited. While Hubby and I entertained the girls (who were very well behaved) six other tables sat down around us and ordered too. It was 11:25 when I started getting a little annoyed that breakfast had not even shown signs of arriving. How long does it take to make four breakfasts? The six later tables were already eating by 11:35 when I called the waitress over. She look flustered and disappeared with promises of finding our food and serving us pronto…ah…promises…such empty promises…

The manager – looking like a rabbit caught in head lights – made his way to our table…

“Sorry for the long wait…you have been very patient…your food is in the window, I will bring you more bread…” and with that she shuffled off to the window, I so wrongly presumed…But the question is…where was the window – down at the Cape? He never returned with the promised bread or the food.

By 11:45 I was standing behind my chair desperately trying to attract the attention of anyone who looked like they worked at this factory…but no one would make eye contact with me, not even the busboy who cleared the table next to us with his back turned to us, just in case I caught his eye.

And then the trumpets sounded and the manager walked out holding three plates of food…yippeee it must be ours. He avoided eye contact and walked straight past me to another later table and served them. I stared him down until the piercing firey daggers emanating from my eyes gave him no other choice by to turn around. I mouthed NOW! because by now I had completely lost my patience with him, the chefs/cooks (I still would say chefs until the food actually did come), the waitress and anyone else who had their emblem emblazoned on their work shirts.

After a wide detour Head Light Rabbit made his way to our table. He came with food. A good offering to the Goddess of Lets Start Throwing Some Plates Around. The children were relieved and hungry. We tucked in. However, looking down at my plate I saw fried eggs and not poached as I had ordered. But it was now about principal. If you are going to make me wait ONE HOUR AND FIFTEEN MINUTES for my breakfast, you damn well get the order right. My plate disappeared into the black hole of the kitchen, maybe forever. Ten minutes later it reappeared. I tucked into the poached eggs. I raised the fork to my mouth and took a bite – the eggs were cold and were RAW! I spat them out into the bowl behind the napkin – very dignified in an undignified situation. I looked up at my eldest daughter who had turned green.

“I ate some eggs and my stomach turned Mom, the eggs are raw.”

I took her to the bathroom in case she wanted to throw up. Heaven knows, I felt like doing that. I came back to the table and announced to Hubby, on Father’s Day, that brunch was officially over – it was now 12:45, I had not eaten anything and I think I would have had better service and food at a roadside shack. Hubby took the two kids to the car, while I marched off to the cowering Rabbit standing hiding behind the pillar at the cash register. Rabbit said that they had not expected the rush.

“Rush?” I asked astonished. “Are you kidding me, it is Father’s Day, and from where I am standing I count let’s see, one, two, three……fifteen empty tables? How many can you seat in this place?”

“Two hundred…” he said slowly.

“Then you should be able to feed and serve two hundred.”

I was keen to get my kids home and try to salvage what was left of the day. Rabbit deducted the two big breakfasts, I paid and left. At home, I was furious for myself when I looked at the bill again. I had paid for two breakfasts which were not eaten, one of those I paid for contained raw eggs too. I paid for coffees I had ordered for after brunch which were not even served yet. I logged onto the company website and wrote my complaint – dignified but furious at the disastrous day.

Four days passed and no word. I looked up some consumer complaints websites. Friday night, at 6pm my phone rang. Another manager from said restaurant. Apologies and acceptance of dropping the ball on their part were abundant. I was pleased. But no refund of my $55-00 for a non-existent breakfast. But instead a gift card in the mail. Not sure I will be eating there again but they are known for their cheesecake and I might just spend the card on that.

So, yes, I am having cake…hopefully it is not underbaked…

While lazing in the amazing weather we had this weekend, Hubby and I were thinking about our list of things we would really like to do given the opportunity and no obstacles!

So here is my preliminary Bucket List – subject to change:

1. Drink champagne in Luxembourg.

2. Go on another African safari.

3. Learn to ski in Bamff.

4. Have a (bit) part in the stage production of Grease.

5. See all my friends and family from around the world in one place at one time for a big party!

6. Live in Tuscany.

7. Balance my check book!

8. Learn to surf (I know, I will have to overcome my fear of the ocean and sharks first!)

9. Learn to cook authentic Italian food.

10. Have a dinner party at home with John Travolta, Rubi Wax, Graham Norton, Bill and Hillary and John McEnroe as my guests (of course I would either cook my authentic Italian food or get a caterer!).

11. Leave a legacy for my children…

I suppose if I look back on my list in even a week or two, it might be different, but that is how it is today…Not sure what I could get done…but I think I have a better shot at number 10 than number 7!!!

Technically speaking, it is spring although one would never know it if you have a look at our weather forecast for the next few days. Light snow tonight, and light snow tomorrow night and temps in the low 40’s. Normally we would have temps of around 50 but I am not complaining, really. It has been a long hard winter with lots and lots of snow. I love snow. I don’t even mind shoveling but I am not fond of rain. I tolerate it because we need it but that is as far it goes.

So with spring coming, it is obviously the time for spring cleaning! I am tackling this nasty task with a vengeance this year. I will NOT be defeated by dust bunnies, and dark closets. This year is the year to get shot of all the crap and have a more minimalistic house. Yeah, right. If you have ever been to my house, you would know that in order to get a minimalistic house, I would have to move to a bigger house! Actually, all I really need is one extra room – a room that belongs to me. A room for my sewing machine and laptop which are both housed in the dining room and need to be packed away at the end of the day so that the dining room does not resemble a study/craft room. I love eating at the dining table with my family but sometimes I just don’t get around to sorting out the space.

So back to spring cleaning – I am drawing up a schedule and according to this wonderful tool, we (and I mean Hubby and me!) will be done with the spring cleaning within three days. The basement is Hubby’s job though – I am NOT going in there at all. It is tidy and kind of organised but there are things in there that we need to get rid of. I mean, honestly, I am never going to use that exercise bike I lugged all the way from England with me! So hello Martha, I am psyched up to get this done.

But the spring cleaning there is not all that needs to be done. I am also going to reform the garden and create a space that is enjoyable so that I can sit outside while the kids swim and play. Our backyard is not the kind that I could sit inside while the girls play outside although it is fenced in, I can’t see them except from the one obscure dining room window and access to this is blocked by the sewing machine – see how it is all interlinked. I figured I need to get the garden sorted seeing as the neighbor has already taken out his balls! Now before you get all boggled eyed (Harriet!), I mean those garden reflection balls people put outside during the warmer months. I take my lead from my neighbor although I did not follow promptly when he put his Christmas decorations up in November!

But also me. I am going to clean me out. I am getting rid of the clothes I can no longer fit into, not because I have become fat but more because thanks to Mother Nature, I am not the same size as what I was when I was 18 and really, with two children, I really prefer comfort and style than fashion. I love food and I love good food. And although I am not fond of junk food, I do indulge about once a month is those (reference to previous post – I do love fries and NOTHING is going to stop me eating those!). But no more crap to eat like crisps and chocolates. With no holidays coming up in the next few months that involve chocolates, I am happy. But there are some that I know who love their junk food: their pizzas and their donuts. In fact, one person did say to me ‘I don’t like the donuts now that they have taken out the trans fat. I mean really, if you were going to eat healthy you would not eat a donut anyway! It takes a way the taste and that defeats the object!’ Good point, I suppose. It is like taking the sugar and caffeine out of coca cola  – there is no point!

But spring heralds the coming of summer and I am definitely looking forward to cocktails! MMMmmmmmm! I love long summer days outside with good friends, stunning al fresco dining and jugs of cocktails! Bring the summer on, this snow lover is ready to don the bathing suit and worship the sun from the comfort of the shade and in the privacy of my own backyard!

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I have two daughters, a ten year old and a four year old. In retrospect my pregnancies were two of the most amusing times of my life. Today I was folding laundry (yes, I actually started to tackle that HUGE mound obstructing my clear path around the dining table) and flicked through the channels trying to avoid the typical daytime television (Days – have not watched it for four years in the UK and true as bob, I have not missed a thing!) and stumbled upon the Discovery Health station and watched a program about pregnant women and partners having babies.

At first I goo-ed and ah-ed because the ladies looked lovely being pregnant and the births were experiences I could half and half (will explain later) relate too. And the babies – the babies were soooooo cute and pretty. Then they get to the two weeks into the parenthood part and it is revealed that the parents are suffering from sleep deprivation and I think. Been there, done that, got the stretch marks to show and won’t be going back there again…

My first pregnancy was for a long time, a bit of blur. Being my first, I had no idea what to expect, what was really going to happen (in comparison to what I read) and how I was going to deal with it all. I had no inkling that I was actually pregnant until my boggled eyed but smiling hubby commented on the fact that my boobs had got so much bigger. I took a home test, it was positive. I went to my GP the next day and he confirmed the presence of a little person. I burst into tears. I had not really planned on having a baby at that time and we were not actively trying to be pregnant. Hubby refers to it as our ‘practise years’. In fact, the babe came to be because after a bit of a social gathering one evening I forgot to take that little pill that can change your life forever if you forget it.

So I was pregnant. I am also the youngest of four children with an older sister and two older brothers. My sister has two kids (both born before mine) but both brothers had not had children yet, although they were both married at the time. In my mom’s mind I had messed up the natural order of things. First my sister would have kids, then the older son and then the younger son and then me. But I am not one for going according to plan. I am a more ‘fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants’ kind of girl. So when I phoned my parents to tell them, out the blue and by surprise, I was with child, my dad was caught off guard but true to form, genuinely happy. My mother on the other hand, was mortified! ‘I can not deal with this right now!’ followed by the receiver going down. Okay then, happy to be a grandma again! Actually I think she was a little pissed because now she had to admit that her youngest child (and a daughter to boot) had had to have sex at least once since she had got married three years before! My sister too, was a little shaken by the news but my brothers were happy. I think it was that I kind of took the pressure off them to have kids at that moment. People could now focus on me, instead of asking them that awful question: “So when are you having kids?”

And focus, they did because I gave them a lot to focus at. My GP explained that I would gain 12-16kg during the pregnancy. Let us just stop the bus right now – I gained 16 kilos in the first three weeks. In fact I almost doubled my body weight during the pregnancy and the nurse who checked me in just before having my baby, almost was driven to tears. I am not sure what got to her. Was it my 98kg body, or was it my pork sausage toes that actually did vibrate when I waddled? Could the fact that I could not see my belly button because they were obstructed by my HUGE boobs have knocked her over the edge? It remains a mystery to me to this day but I do think I might have created such a precedent that all pregnant women who followed me into that labor ward, looked like Elle McPherson!

Two weeks before my first child was born (through C-section because she was sooooo big – 10 pounds at 39 weeks) I was standing in the grocer trying to buy healthy snacks when a woman I knew happened to be ahead of me in the queue for the check out. “My God, you look like a beached whale!” she blurted out loudly when she recognized me. I smiled, but actually I wanted to body slam her to the ground and show her that Sumo wrestlers could live in South Africa too and they could be women. I walked out the store clutching my little bag with strawberries, grapes and granola silently wishing the bag contained fries, a double thick strawberrry shake and massive slab of chocolate. As I got into the car, this same complimenting woman knocked on the window. Her apologies were honest, I think I just startled her and I forgave her promptly when she handed me the peppermint crisp mega slab of Cadbury Chocolate! Just so that you know – when my daughter was 8 weeks old, someone asked me if I was expecting twins! That weight just lingered and lingered…

I had a particular craving for fries – but fries from one particular take out joint. Their salt they used was delicious and my day could not start unless I sat eating a large portion of these. I also drank copious amounts of coca cola. Now both these were items on my forbidden list provided by the GP. You are retaining water and gaining weight – stay away from the salt and the sugar, I was told. So I was eating slyly and before my husband returned home from work, I would slip out the house and take all the evidence to the dumpster at the apartment building next door and throw it away there. Just so that when I sat down to eat my salad, I did not leave any tell tale signs around about my sustenance for the day. At 5am on the day our first child was born I turned to my husband and asked him, ‘Do I look fat?’ The sheer look of panic on his face was enough to upset the Richter scale. How in heavens name is he going to answer that because if he says ‘yes’, well you can imagine. If he says ‘no’ I would accuse him of lying. Either way he was stuffed and he knew it. He pretended to fall back asleep and left me gawking in the extra wide mirror repeating the mantra ‘You are not fat, you are pregnant.’ Who the hell was I trying to kid? Myself and on that day, it worked.

My second pregnancy was closely monitored because once I had relayed my first pregnancy to the doctors in the UK, they deducted that I must have had gestational diabetes. In defense of my GP during my first, he was acting on the information I was giving him and yes, I was being stupid but I was also scared beyond belief by this pregnancy. (This GP now lives in Canada and I wish he could still be our family doctor, he is that great!) I had lost the weight since then and was back to top form. So my eyes were wide open as to how much weight I could gain in the second pregnancy. But this time I was better behaved, I watched what I ate, monitored my blood sugar and generally did what I was told – except on a Sunday when I gave myself the day off. So instead of gaining 40kg like in my first pregnancy, I only gained 28kg. Wow – still a huge amount you might think, but for me, it was the best. Baby number two was born at 38 weeks weighing in at 8 pounds 6 ounces. Still big but smaller than the first. My blood sugar had escalated and they decided to bring her into the world earlier than she had planned.

So my blood sugar returned to normal after the birth, my weight came down remarkably quickly and I happily consumed my fries (by the way, I still love fries and coca cola). I am not sure that I could survive another pregnancy with a forbidden list and I know that I am not the most self-disciplined person on the planet. So while pregnant women are careful about what they eat, the lesson that all others should know that hell hath no fury as a pregnant woman with a forbidden list. And all husbands should remember, that there is never a correct or safe answer when a pregnant woman asks ‘Do I look fat?’

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