Table for Twelve

I decided to host Thanksgiving this weekend for a few of my British friends. I figured I'd invite a couple of them round to help me enjoy a truly glutonous holiday.

Somehow it turned into dinner for twelve! Before the festivities - the table is set and the green plastic patio furniture is pressed into action.

The bird. Juicy. Delicious. Fully stuffed. Believe it or not, it turned out alright. Yes, I was worried. I had a bit of panic when my bird was still a wee bit frozen when I was ready to stuff. Somehow a 7 kilo turkey does not thaw after 72 hours in my refrigerator.

The gang after the first three courses.. starter, soup and main. The pudding (dessert to the Americans) put us over the edge. Thanks to my friends for joining me on an American holiday in England. And to all my readers, I'm off to the States for work again so maybe no posts for a little bit depending on my adventures at work. Happy Thanksgiving. Gobble! Gobble!

Visitor Count 2009: Low

When I first moved here, I had 5 sets of visitors in under 5 months! How exciting that in 2008 I was able to have some friends and family visit me so soon? Since then, the attendance at Tucker House/Wolverine House/Mutt House (still working on the name) has dropped off precipitously. In 2009, I had a total of 3 visitors - and they were all here at the same time! (Non work related visitors technically)

Now people, how many of you have these views on your morning walks? Huh? Book your spaces now for 2010. I want to squeeze you in amidst all my travels.

Weights and Measures

I've said this to quite a few people so my apologies if you have heard me say it before: I drink a lot of beer now that I've moved to the UK (as opposed to wine or spirits. Not that I've increased my drinking. Oh no. That would be wrong). I've increased my consumption for many reasons, but mainly because when you go to the local pub, it's pretty fun to try the different beers on tap. I'm always ordering a pint and often I'll even order a bitter. (pronounced Bit-tah)

What I find so intriguing about ordering in the UK is I'm often asked the question 'a pint or a half pint?' Huh? What the heck is a half pint? It's almost as confusing as when you order wine, they ask 'small or large?' Huh again? You definitely don't get that in the United States. We've got a one size fits all motto there. I have to say, I really like it though. Sometimes, you just want just a taste of beer without the volume so you order a half pint. Even more fun, when you order a beer, it is usually served in the glass of the vendor. You buy a pint of Stella Artois, it comes in a glass shaped and labeled for Stella. Order a pint of Kroeneburg and you get a tall pint of 1667. I once had a guy limp all the way down and back behind a bar on his broken leg just to make sure I had an Amstel glass for my beer (and no, there is NO SUCH thing as light beer in this country)

So the measures are cool, the weight --- not so much. Even though I might appear skinny, I've gained my fair share of weight with my expanded consumption of hoppy beverages. And as mentioned before, light beers? Never heard of 'em......

My Favorite Stalker

There has been a bit of rain lately so Tucker has the luxury of spending some time in the flat. I even had to buy a new hoover (vacuum cleaner) to deal with the additional hair. Due to the fact that I've reverted to being a big wuss (I swear I was Alpha Dog at one time), Tucker enjoys free reign while I'm out at work slaving away.

The other evening when I came home, Tucker decided that the couch and the blanket just didn't smell enough like me. Therefore, he went on quite the scavenger hunt to surround himself with a few items from my daily routine. The picture is a little dark but hopefully you can see

1. Next to the couch, my rather large purse/bag (from a basket in the hallway)

2. My adidas flip flop (from the ground floor bike/office room)

3. My dalmation slipper (from downstairs bedroom)

4. Two of my running shoes (from the ground floor bike/office room)

5. On the couch my sunglasses and glasses (from the purse)

I had to take a close up of the running shoe and sunglasses/eyeglass case. Just try to picture him going through my purse, picking these up with his teeth and dropping them on the couch. Then going back for the purse and dragging the whole thing into the room? What a goober.

It's flattering to be loved so much. I just wish my stalker wouldn't shed so much.

Ballbuster

Quite the title, isn't it? So once again I don't have much to report. I'm starting to crack under the pressure of trying to continue to be entertaining! The good news is that I have trips planned to India, Italy, Switzerland, Austria and France next year so the blog might liven up again after all. Even better, not all of those trips involve exercise. Shocker!

This weekend I did a race called the Ballbuster. Needless to say, not many girls sign up for it. We are missing a few essential bits you see.....any who, the race is a duathlon that consists of five 8 mile loops. And there is this big hill at the end called Box Hill. So you run 8 miles, then hop on your bike for 3 laps (24 miles) and then it's back to the running shoes for 8 miles. You'll have to wait for pictures from the race photographer as I don't have any of my own, so here's a picture of my back during another race just for kicks. (I think it is quite artistic AND it saves me from having to post dorky photo #198).

Overall, I did rather well but screwed up the race at the end. Another woman passed me with about 50 yards to go and I didn't think anything of it. (I tend to get passed at the end you see, I'm not a sprinter). Well, turns out that woman took 5th place leaving me with 6th place, which is one place out of the prizes. Note to self: no more getting passed at the very end of the race. Final time 3:30:56. Now I just need to figure out how to walk normally again.....