freyakitten

Taking my morning tea break in the middle of mowing the lawns. I had let them overgrow significantly over the last couple of months, so they kinda need mowing. Then there's the weeds in other parts of the garden... Dad suggested just mowing the lot, but the spot he was suggesting that for has nothing like even ground to run the mower over, and my knee is still bunged.

Oh yeah, my knee. I bunged it up in classical 'me' manner.

Last weekend me and Not A Redhead and his girlfriend and kid went up to his shack in Port Broughton with his boat. The forecast rain did not eventuate until we didn't care if it rained anymore. There was fishing, crabbing, attempts at waterskiing (I think my feet need padding to stay in the skis, my ankles aren't strong enough to hold them at the angle to not rip themselves off), scrabble, dominoes, and no internets. Multiple mysterious battery failure, none of it fatal or dangerous, but certainly annoying. One of those batteries was the car battery as we were preparing to leave on Monday to go home.

So we pushstarted the car. I lost traction when it started rolling properly, and I chose to bung my knee up instead of my face. Fortunately I was wearing jeans so there was no gravel in there, but there was one hole several millimetres deep. My knee is still swollen and purple in some spots, but most of the bruising has gone to yellow, and the holes are filling in - I may not even scar, knowing me. I'm supposed to keep off it. I managed until yesterday - before the dance workshops I was definitely showing signs of withdrawal :P

Excess crabs from the crabbing went to various people. Apparently I'm the only person on that expedition who actively likes crabs, and we caught ~30 of legal size. Not A Redhead killed them and cut them in half, and I did the rest of the cleaning. There was a BBQ before class on Monday, so we donated crabs to that, I pinched some for my parents, Dance Teacher One grabbed a few, as did the gentleman cooking the BBQ. My Dad had this to say about the crabs (and the fillet and a half of snook that was left over from the fishes I caught and Not A Redhead cooked on Sunday), in a message titled 'Crabby Dad':

"Thanks for the crabs.  They were terrific.

 Dollop of butter.  Chopped up onion.  Glug of white wine for the cook and one for the pot.  Three egg tomatoes.  Leftover tomatoes from yesterday’s salad.  Leftover cherry tomatoes and capsicum from yesterday’s hors d’oeuvre.  Dash of chilli sauce.  Rats:  it was a new bottle and the dash was a dollop – c’est la guerre.  Pepper.  Why not some of this fish sauce stuff?  This is dry work:  glug of wine for the cook and one for the pot.  Simmer.  Glug of wine for the cook.  Throw the crabs into the pot and heat them with steam.  At last minute, throw in some tarragon, chopped oregano and parsley, then pour into our big candle heated dish (dish and its lid pre-heated in oven) and throw in some more parsley and oregano to garnish.

Serve with bread, butter and a towel draped down one’s front.

Still some sauce left?  Throw the snook in and steam on hot plate for a bit.

Clean up after Mum!

Love, Dad"

Must go do more mowing before Bastard gets home. His Dad is taking him to some home improvement show or something at the Showgrounds. I just hope that they check this time that stuff is OK with me first before Bastard's Dad goes ahead and does whatever Bastard said 'yeah whatever' to.