Patricia Comb
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IS IT BEAGLES FOR BREAKFAST?

7/16/2017

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Over the course of a very happy and 'interesting' marriage, my dear spouse has provided me with many funny moments, some exasperating beyond belief and some embarrassing.  In previous blogs for example, I have described his penchant for lining up the batons at the supermarket and making pictures out of the damp patches on the church wall - describing them to me at the quietest moments in the church service when he should have been concentrating on his prayers!  

   Combined with his love of life is his love of words and food. He once mis-heard my pronunciation of chorizo when asking what was for supper and was scandalised to think I was going to serve him up dog for dinner, as in Shih Tzu. Ever since it has been chicken and shitzu in our house.  Another example - we have several bird feeding stations dotted around our garden, some with Nija or Nyger (depending on who you consult ) seed. According to spouse the feeds are full of ninja seed to attract the Ninjas. Funnily enough I cannot find any Ninja species in my bird book!
 
   Last year, walking into the Great Yorkshire Showground, the outlying fields were full of  horseboxes, trailers and Winnebegos. Spouse gazed in wonderment at some of the monster Winnebegos, grappling for the name for them. To be fair I couldn't remember either. Eventually he came out with, 'it's a ... it's a ... oh, you know ... a Betty Grable,' he finished with a triumphant smile. Naturally they are all known as Betty Grables now.

   He is perfectly able to remember people's names but more often than not will bestow on them their own particular moniker. Anne, a friend of ours, has always been known as Irish Mary in our house. No, I don't know why either and a dear Sister of Mercy friend of ours from long ago - the kindest, sweetest nun you could ever wish to meet had the soubriquet of Machine-gun di-Pazzi bestowed on her. 

   We were staying with very dear friends this week and finished up the trip with watching a romcom, lots of popcorn, crisps, cheesy biscuits and rivers of lovely red wine flowed between us all. Enough to give us the strength to slay several giants. Next morning we are all slightly the worse for wear, except for spouse. He comes bounding down for breakfast and looks at the beautiful spread our lovely hostess had put out. He beamed and rubbed his hands enthusiastically. 'Is it beagles for breakfast?' Our friend looked alarmed as well she might. Did she think I was in the habit of cooking beagles at home?  'Bagels?' I hazarded. 'No.' Spouse was very definite. 'Beagles.'

   I'm so glad he usually opts for the full English breakfast when we are in an hotel. At least he doesn't have to request individual items in that dish. Thank goodness shitzu and beagles are not an option or we might have the RSPCA knocking on our door.

   We have friends coming for lunch today. As I write spouse is in the bathroom, practising in the mirror - 'coq au vin, coq au vin.' I hope he manages to get the right words in the right order today, I wouldn't want 'Tree-Trunk-Silas' and 'Lampstand-Joan' to find any more oddities about us than usual. We shall see ....

   
   

   

   
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  • CAFE PARADISE 3
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