I had the most bizarre dream last night. I'm not even sure why I'm sharing this, given that it is a rather alarming insight into my highly erratic and eccentric brain. I dreamt that I was living in a flat, one of those swanky little pads you get in big cities (obviously fantasising about not living in a house with woodchip...), and I awoke one day to find a haunted car in my living room. Yes, you read correctly. A haunted car. It was one of those old jobs from the 1920's, all big bonneted and headlamped, but it was all covered in thick dust and cobwebs and just sat in the middle of the room looking all malevolent and mean. And in order to make it go away, I had to select someone for it to guzzle, and write their name on a piece of paper. And I wrote Jordan's name! (well, Katie Price, I'm glad I was accurate in my dream...). Poor girl, she may be a complete nightmare of silicone and pink voile, but she doesn't deserve to be eaten by a zombie automobile.
Which led me to seriously question my own subconscious at 5 am this morning. Freud would have had an absolute fiesta over my twisted old head, I'm sure.
Anyway. Moving on. It's been one of those days where I feel we've been incredibly busy, but actually have done nothing of any use whatsoever. I indulged in my annual haircut today, which really was quite a pressing task to get done, given that my fringe was hanging down below my nose and I couldn't actually see where I was going half the time, hence all the bruises on my legs. Oh, it was good. I may just have to say sod the expense and go and get my hair cut every weekend now, just for the fun of it. I do so love being sprayed with unctions and potions, and being preened and poufed within an inch of my life. Did I go for some new and exciting style? No, of course not. I instead opted for a slightly shorter version than the hairstyle which I've now had for 6 years.
We then went to visit some new friends in Dorchester, I say new friends, as we don't really know them that well, but they were really lovely and had such gorgeous children, one of which was a little laddie just a couple of months older than D, who was totally fascinated with D's 'Ed the Duck' hairdo and kept poddling at it with his chubby little hands. D didn't seem to mind, and just sat there obligingly, whilst engaged in the task of trying to stuff as many of the nearby toys into his mouth as possible. (I'm pretty sure it was three at once, at one point, his lips were literally stretched to maximum capacity.). We all enjoyed some chocolate cakes, apart from D, who was more intent, rather embarrassingly, on mashing it into their carpet. Oh dear.
I invented a truly spiffing new recipe tonight, which I shall now duly share with the world. Read it, make it, credit me with it please.
Kickin' chilli Risotto
Risotto rice (dunno how much, just do a bit of guesswork)
White wine
Vegetable stock (again, do your guesswork)
Chilli powder
Chilli flakes
Basil
Cheddar Cheese
Sweet potatoes.
Knob of butter
Get your knob of butter and melt in a saucepan at a high heat. Chuck in the rice and give it a quick toasting, only about a minute max. Start adding your stock gradually, stirring regularly, so it doesn't get all stuck to the bottom.
Add the white wine fairly early on.
Meanwhile, whilst still adding stock to your rice when it needs it, be grating your cheese, and cooking your sweet potatoes in the microwave (how long depends on how big they are!)
When the rice is nearly done, add your herbs and spices according to taste, then scoop out your softened sweet potatoes and welly that in as well. Then at the last minute, add the cheese, and just cook it a tiny bit longer to melt it.
Then serve. Bob is then your proverbial uncle.
Maybe I should try it for D's tea tomorrow night. But then again...er...perhaps not.
Right, I'm off to bed, hopefully to have nice dreams about fluffy rabbits etc, and not beastly dreams about sentient evil cars from the past. Argh!!
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