kissing a boy in a tree

I have this thing, you know, one of those things, it’s like a fantasy but it could be a reality. I want to kiss a boy in a tree. I’m not totally deluded about it, in fact I’m very realistic about it, I’d be most happy if the boy was my husband.

But I’m afraid. Not afraid of climbing a tree. Nor kissing a boy, heck knows I’ve done enough of that to know that it’s not scary, especially with my own man. But I’m afraid of disappointment. In my mind it’s a magical event. It punctuates time.

I’d be less than satisfied if the branch was that little bit too thin and the moment was diminished by the presence of a nervous anxiety that you are seconds away from plummeting to the ground. Or, heaven forbid, our teeth bumped, like some of those first awkward kisses snatched on the jerk of public transport. That just wouldn’t do. But then, that’s no reason not to take action.

So there’s only one thing for it. I must peel my relaxed, zombie killing hero away from his seated pose in front of the screen, to climb a tree.

A short while later…

He wasn’t sure if it was really necessary at first. I wasn’t sure if it was the kissing he was finding unnecessary, the climbing of the tree, or just plain going outside that was the issue. Reluctantly he donned his gumboots and casually strode across the lawn to the climbing tree, with me frolicking behind.

“Ooh, I’m not sure I’ll be able to get up there” I observed on arrival, frozen in my step and suddenly confronted by the logistics of my reverie.

My paladin grabbed a nearby garden chair and I scrambled up the rough damp limbs. I perched on a branch while my dearest joined me with ease.

In the dark of late dusk we sat with legs dangling. Taking in the view, but only for a short while.

“I can see a star”, my zombie slayer observed.
“It’s quite high here isn’t it”, I mused, particularly as we had only ventured to the lowest sturdy branch.

My branch was hard and woody beneath me but I leaned in and I closed my eyes to the dappled lights of the house.

So it was the first time kissing my boy in a tree, and while not the impromptu whimsical experience that I had first envisioned, it was close to it, and it will not be the last time.

the kissing tree


the bloody mary cocktail: where too much garnish is only just enough

bloody mary cocktailThe Bloody Mary has been called the worlds most complex cocktail. I’d say because each drink is as individual as each of us.

In my opinion, you’ve probably poured the perfect drink when you’ve got to hold the garnish back from going up your nose. By the time the glass reaches your mouth, you’re looking out over a jungle akin to Borneo.

Along with a good helpings of vodka and tomato juice, a well poured Bloody Mary must have some quantities of worcestershire sauce, tabasco, salt of some description, and an array of embellishments.

Enhancements that are worth tinkering with to find your perfect flavor include: lemon juice, pepper (white versus black), sugar (to tone the acidity of the tomato), parsley, beef stock (a Bloody Bull), Clamato juice (a Bloody Ceasar), teriyaki sauce in place of worcestershire sauce (a Bloody Mariyaki) and/or celery salt… but you can probably draw the line at chicken salt.

I’m glad that some precious friends recently reintroduced me the the Bloody Mary. I’ve learned (through some experimentation) that I like my Bloody drink the following way:

30 ml vodka
½ tsp vegetable stock powder (in place of salt)
½ tsp caster sugar
1 cup tomato juice, chilled
1 tsp lemon juice
2 drops tabasco
1 tsp worcestershire sauce
a frond of each, celery and parsley
a slice of lemon (ok, so this is just for show, I can drink with out it)

In a tumbler, dissolve the sugar and stock in a tablespoon of hot water.
Add ice, the worcestershire, tabasco, lemon juice, vodka and tomato juice.
Stir. Garnish.

Naturally, I call mine a Bloody Poppins.

Have you discovered any other adornments to your perfect Bloody drink?

bloody mary garnish celery