Rum @ MindSay

It seems that there is no let-up to the fucking weird dreams I have.
It's odd that I've had two of them in such a short space of time, but alright - here goes:

I was making fairy cakes.

But for some reason, I had to mix butter and sugar in one bowl and eggs and flour in another bowl - then supposably mix the two bowls together. But I ended up forgetting to mix them - instead, spooned out the mixture of butter and sugar into the cases then just cooking it on its own.

It ended up proper burnt and bodged - so I started again.
This time it seemed to work, and I spooned it all out into muffin cases that I put into Yorkshire pudding tins.

When they were cooked, I started making icing.
I mixed together some icing sugar with red food colouring - and mam came in, suggesting I add vanilla essence - but when she handed me the bottle, it was a miniature of rum.
I told her to find the vanilla essence - and I ended up stood about for like 20 minutes while she looked for it.

Once I'd iced the cakes with this red icing I'd made, I decorated them with CHOCOLATE HOOPS CEREAL.

I then took my cakes to Ash's house - where they seemed to have like 20 people over for whatever reason - but I was holding about six cakes on my hand - my hand must've grown about three times in size. I was handing them out to Ash's family.

"One for DENHAM, one for JORDAN... And where's ASH?!"

Of all the things to dream about, I dream about FAIRY CAKES!

I need to fix this.
I need to do my homework on time every week.
I need to set my priorities up a little bit better.
I need to remember how much I hate being rumdrunk. I hate it a lot. My body just absorbs it and I don't feel nearly as drunk as I am, and then I feel like complete and total shit the next day.
I need to take care of myself.....not embarrass myself.



fuckme.

The people in the Family are possessed of talents.  Some cook or bake, some sew or fashion leather garments, chain mail.  Some farm, some do metal smithing, paint or make music.  Others' talents lie in the areas of warcraft, statecraft or are the keepers of tradition and the well of stories and the past.

 

One of my talents is that I brew...something which starts out as Adult Fruit Salad.  Please note the word 'adult'.  Coming from California to Texas, it never occured to me to explain any farther than this was 'adult'...meaning loaded with alchohol...in this case rum....a lot.  There are now certain people who eye anything I make with the word 'adult' in it as suspect and approach with caution.  This adult fruit salad is sweet and strong and sneaks up on you....

 

Recipie is a watermelon cut in half, scooped out, bunch of other fruit cut up and added to large bowl, large bottle of rum poured over, stir often and let marinate for minimum of 24 to 48 hours.  Scoop fruit back into watermelon shell and serve.  KEEP what ever juice and fruit is left over.

 

Add any fruit salad or juice left..mash fruit.  Put fruit and juice into sterilized jars with plastic wrap between the metal jar lid and the jar.  Shake every other day for 3 months.  Strain.  Rebottle into clan sterilized jars with plastic wrap and lids.  2 months later strain again until all setiment is gone....= Evil brew.  Or what has other wise become known as "The Man's Birthday Rum".

 

The Man is eagerly awaiting the current batch...which should be available by Thanksgiving, with a late summer batch just recently having been jarred which should be available around Valentine's Day/May Day. 

 

For those who scoff at making home made brew...in this case enhancing a product, or that this is actually done... A photo montage accompanies this post.

 

 

   Soo... went for a run tonight deciding to get back into shape.  Love those New Years resolutions... stupid effing things.  I was all psyched up, had on my old Navy sweatshirt and shorts, couple of layers of undergarments and socks, me old running shoes and my beanie for these frosty nights.  Dug out my old stop watch too.  And bam, there I was.
   Started out pretty smooth too.  Until I got about four blocks and the cramps in my side set in... with that little burning sensation in my lungs from two years of atrophy combined with nights uber frigid air (I'm sure the rum I had earlier didn't really aid the situation as well).
   I'm telling you, I've seen rusty '87 Honda Civics with multi-colored doors leaving a black, oily wake run more smooth than I did.
   Run for three blocks, walk for one, run for four blocks, walk for two, run for three blocks, walk for two. Ha!  Fifteen minutes later and probably only about 2/3 a mile I walk in all sweaty.  Eesh... I know I need to lose about 15-20 lbs, but man... who'd a thought it could really weigh down on ya.
   I'm not giving up on the rum though!  Ohhhh no!  Take my dignity, take pride, but by god leave me my corked wonders!

Egads... I've come to discover that my stomach can't handle a day without rum anymore. I go a whole day (especially a rough, hard working sort of day) without rum and it begins to rumble accompanied by a few waves of nausea until I finally give in and pour myself a nice, tall glass.
Is this a sign of alcoholism? Mayhap, and as bad as it sounds... I'm to lazy to go digging around the information superhighway at the moment for the answers.
Maybe after a drink... HA!  Heheh, ehhh, maybe not that funny.