Golf, less yard work on list
I’M back at work after a couple of weeks off – and looking ahead to what the year holds.
I suspect it will be a struggle to maintain my New Year’s resolutions.
Fortunately I was pretty quiet about my plans for the year.
I had more golf, less yard work and plenty of relaxation on my wish list.
Of course, I know that is more wish than list.
It seems my wife has much more concrete plans for me in 2014.
The first hint was when she very thoughtfully gave me a cookbook, chopping board and set of cooking knives for Christmas.
I was a bit slow on the uptake and asked her what recipes she was looking forward to cooking.
That amusing question was greeted with a very stony silence.
Apparently 2014 is to be the
Apparently 2014 is to be the year I make Master Chef look like an amateur picnic. It might be more of a case of Whose Kitchen Rules?
year I make Master Chef look like an amateur picnic.
It might be more of a case of Whose Kitchen Rules?
I’m always happy to take a turn in the kitchen but we can never seem to agree on the menu.
Like most blokes I reckon I’m a whiz on the barbecue.
I’m keen to whip up steak, chicken, chops or fish any night.
Of course, the best thing about my barbecue is that it is real handy to the beer fridge and it seems only fair that a cool drink goes hand-in-hand with any cooking.
However, my wife is pushing (dragging) me in a more healthy direction with lots of vegies expected.
It also seems that ice-cream and any number of cheesecakes are not meant to be a part of my repertoire.
It promises to be an interesting battlefield – the kitchen.
I remember some interesting advice from a recently divorced friend.
He reckons you should never argue in the kitchen. The reason? The kitchen is where all the sharp knives are kept.
I keep telling my wife she is stifling my creative culinary skills.
She counters with comments about the problems I occasionally face fitting into my clothes.
So this year looks like another year of (mostly) healthy living. What fun. Fortunately she will be spending a bit of time in Brisbane helping out with our grandson.
That should give me an occasional opportunity to indulge in those things she has banned from the fridge.
I must remember to hide the evidence (empty ice-cream cartons etc).
Last time I foolishly left them at the top of the pile in the rubbish bin.
That made it just too easy for my wily wife to check what I had been up to.
You would think I’d be a bit smarter by now.
Until next time . . .