Heh, forgot to say... Tried the microwave today, cooked chicken legs for our dinner. Took 31 minutes 20 seconds, and another 10 minutes on the grill setting to brown the skin. I'm impressed! That's a good two thirds less time than in the oven - half the reason for getting the thing (apart from the fact it was £30 off in Tesco's sale, bringing it down to £49.92 - no, I've no idea where the 92p comes in!) was because, of course, our electricity is green, whereas our gas isn't, so any saving on gas usage is environmentally helpful - and they tasted great, much moister than when roasted in the oven. And it's so easy to use! Got it sussed already: I can see me getting an awful lot of use out of it...
Tempted to use it for the casserole I've planned for tomorrow, only the casserole dish I use is rather heavy (Pyrex so no problem with the material, just the weight) and I usually cook it with the lid on to keep it moist, which might not be a good idea... Then again, I probably don't need to use the lid since the operation is completely different to the way the oven works: just put some baking parchment over the top to stop the splattering. Hn. Might try it anyway, it's stewing steak, which takes hours in the oven to get the tenderness I want...
[sigh] I'm getting excited over a domestic implement again. Ye gods, what's happening to me in my old age!! Admitting to liking Matt Monro, waxing lyrical over bathrooms and mirrors and kitchen appliances...
Ah hell, I'll chalk it up to my multi-facetted personality (no, that isn't a euphemism for schizophrenia!). The day I lose interest in the latest advances in computer tech and astrophysics is the day I'll start worrying.
Lovely little family scenario, earlier tonight. I'm sure I've said how Kai loves sleeping on my side of the bed while I'm down here working: he tells me it's because he likes the smell of my pillow, and he feels safe and has nice dreams. Well, I've been trying to stick to the usual term-time routine while he's been on holiday (my bed only on Friday and Saturday nights, the rest in his own room - except when he has nightmares and comes through, of course). Tonight he came and cuddled, asking if he could sleep on my side, because he hadn't for a while and he was 'owed' at least two nights. (To explain that, there've been several weekend nights when it's been horribly hot and sticky, and Ken has been restless, and Kai has had to sleep in his own bed so Ken can get a decent rest without having to subconciously worry about waking Kai up).
Me: "And when did sleeping on my side of the bed become a right, rather than a favour?"
Kai, hugging tightly: "Sorry mum. But I love sleeping there. Please can I?"
So of course I said yes - it's Saturday after all, and he's been brilliant all week: we haven't been able to do much because the weather's been so awful but he hasn't complained. Well, only twice... BIG hug and happy child runs upstairs.
Ken, smiling: "He gets it from you."
Me: "Um, gets what from me?"
Ken, holding up hand: "This wrapping-round-the-little-finger gift."
Me: "It's a Piscean thing..."
Ken, with that smile I haven't seen for quite a while, eyes sparkling: "That explains it..."
My partner-husband is exceptional. And no, I don't take advantage of the 'wrapping-round-the-little-finger' gift - well, except when it's something that I really, really, really want, like the CCO808 DVD - that would be unfair.
And why partner-husband? Because anyone can be a husband - but it takes understanding and tolerance and compassion and real love to be a partner.
Labels: domesticity, family
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Joules *Dances with Haddock* Taylor
pontificated this at 3:02 am
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