Perfect, for me

Today, the Ovver Arf and all the other Nikos, Nikolauses, Nikolettas et al in Greece (and that's a lot, believe me!) celebrate their Name Day.

So do sailors, as in Greek tradition Saint Nick is the patron saint of sailors. The chap that bring the prezzies to good children is Saint Basil (which always brings to my mind images of a manic red & white-clad John Cleese doing silly walks across festive hearths to fill the waiting stockings... but that's another story).

It is the 21st time we have celebrated his Name Day together. Mind-boggling, but kinda marvellous too.

At the risk of sounding cheesy and gloopy, I have to say that my particular Nikos is the one who completes me. Cue Renee whatersface looking all tearful and blurting out "You had me at Hello".

I know, it's horribly corny, but he really did have me at that first (very Greek) "Hhhhhello" back in April 1989, when he looked across the lobby of the hotel where he was working, gave me a cheeky grin, and suggested the perfect place to hang my Holiday Rep notice board. A quick peek at us, the way we were then, probably tells you all you need to know.

Since then, we've both changed quite a bit. Fluctuating fashions and haircuts, expanding waistlines, a few more wrinkles, some adjusted priorities and a good few revised preconceptions.

We've been through quite a bit too - the thrill of buying our own home (along with the scary mortgage payments), the deaths of dearly-loved and greatly-missed family members, a heart attack (fortunately minor) when he was away on a business trip on the other side of the world in Singapore, periods of bleak depression and anxiety, the constant flow of my 'does my bum look big in this' insecurities, and - of course - the birth of our very own Kidling Grand.

But one thing that has remained constant, throughout all those years, is our ability to make each other laugh.

Nikos is a natural born comic, with a phenomenal memory for jokes and the way to tell 'em, enormous personal magnetism, a brain as sharp as a razor and a heart as big and warm as the sun.

It is laughter that has gone us this far - and I'm sure that it will take us much, much further.

Nikos is not perfect, though there's plenty of things he is: smart; funny; frustrating; creative; demanding; laid-back; confusing; inventive; complicated; generous; cynical; excitable; cool; infuriating; ingenious; original; kind-hearted; quick-tempered; borderline manic depressive; idealistic; fun; warm; sexy; cuddly; charismatic; abrupt; neurotic; clever; charming; hard work; a challenge.

No, my Ovver Arf aint perfect - but he's perfect for me.

Happy Name Day, Niko!

Silent Sunday: Madvent Calendar

Glögg! (or "Mandi lets her Swedish Chef out to play")

Meet Lars. You may not know his name, but I'm sure you all know him.

He's the Swedish Chef, usually seen burbling incomprehensively (but enthusiastically) around The Muppet Show kitchen, often with a chicken looking on in horror.

I don't really know his name, but after 18 years of working for a company with Swedish management, he is definitely a Lars to me.
When Becca and CheffyDaddy announced Cinnamon & Wine as the theme(s) for December's "Oui Chef!" ( http://www.beckicklesie.com/2010/12/oui-chef-table-3-cinnamon-and-wine.html ) I just knew that it was time to let my Swedish Chef out to play and introduce you to a peculiarly Scandiniavian way of beating the winter chill and welcoming the Festive Season.

Glögg.

I first came across it as an innocent 28-year-old, as I approached my first Christmas in my new job. Though based in Greece, many of the managers were Swedes - and they were keen as mustard to bring a little taste of the Baltic to the Eastern Mediterranean. I had already reluctantly sampled reindeer (I know, I know - but actually Rudolph and his ilk are surprisingly tasty) and had managed to avoid Rotten Herring (don't ask - it IS what it sounds like), but the smells coming from the lunchroom that December morning were infinitely more enouraging.

Curiosity got the better of me and I was soon to found hanging my head over a gently seething cauldron of ruby red liquor bubbling with almonds, orange peel and sultanas, with my boss stirring away merrily. It smelt orgasmic. (The booze, not my boss!).

Before I knew it, I had a little glass of the stuff in my hand and was taking my first tentative sip. Then a bolder slurp. Then another glass or two - or four.

I don't remember much after that... except a mental note that this Yuletide concoction was lethal enough to fell a whole longship of Vikings. And that I got the bus home that evening. I think.

So, if you're feeling bold, here is a recipe, including the extras my boss liked to throw into the mix. It will certainly keep the cold at bay - but you may not feel your nose after a glass or two.

You will need:
3 sticks cinnamon
2-3 pieces dried Seville orange peel (use fresh if dried not available
2-3 pieces dried or fresh ginger (not ground)
some 10 cardamom seeds (whole)
some 10 cloves (whole)
1 cup (2.5dl) water

and:
sugar
1 bottle of red wine
(added extras: a few good slugs of vodka or brandy, or both!)
Blanched almonds and sultanas for serving

What to do:
- Put the spices and water in a small pan and bring to the boil. Then turn off heat and let it stand overnight
- Pass the mixture through a sieve to filter out the 'bits' from the spices
- Pour in the wine and gently heat (don't boil!)
- Add sugar to taste (about half a cup) and stir til it dissolves
- Heat but do not bring it to the boil. Alcohol evaporates when boiled and that sort of defeats the object!
- If you're feeling naughty, spike the whole thing with a splash or three of vodka or brandy
- Serve hot with raisins and blanched almonds (dropped into the cups after serving).



Skål!

Surprise Celebration

I entered uncharted territory today. For the first time, I set foot into the 46-55 demographic, my late-forties, or the pre-SAGA generation as a helpful friend suggested (gee, thanks Fran!).

Considering that I have blown out candles on 45 birthday cakes to date, the fact that it was a normal working day, and our general financial situation, I wasn't expecting much of a fuss to be made of my birthday - or me.

I was pleasantly surprised.

Most of my 'working day' was spent thanking colleagues from (literally) all around the world for their birthday wishes. And then there were the dozens of brilliant friends clamouring to wish me Many Happy Returns and put a smile on my face (yes, even 'dear George' who reminded me that I am now "just under 50").

I was in a pretty good mood as I made my way home, but I thought the highlight of my evening would be a glass of plonk and maybe a favourite DVD, having issued instructions for "no gifts or birthday cake" to the hubby.

For some strange reason I thought he'd break the habit of a lifetime and do as he was told.

I was wrong.

As I opened the front door, I was greeted by darkness, and the faint glow of flickering candlelight on the dining room, surrounded by the Ovver Arf, Kidling Grand, my in-laws and neices singing a uniquely Greek version of "Happy Birthday"!

Despite my protests that I didn't want a fuss, they decided to pamper me - complete with a homemade cake and prezzies to open.

Though I could have perhaps done without the reminder of my antiquity in the glaring "46" candles (the Ovver Arf said if he had got one for each year, the candles would have cost more than the cake!), I was blushing furiously with pleasure as I huffed and I puffed and I blew out my birthday flame.

And there was more to come, with a special birthday supper lovingly prepared by hubby so we could have the sustenance essential for a typical (noisy) Greek family celebration - and I was the one being celebrated!

It was a reminder that it's not the fancy gifts that make a real celebration.

It's the little touches: a homemade cake; a favourite dish; or a cardboard & glitter birthday brooch crafted by an 11-year-old.

They're what makes you feel like you matter.

And that is certainly worth celebrating.

Smarts in an hourglass

Today, I'm guest posting over at http://www.beckicklesie.com/ with a little piece about the link between the fatty acids that give us our womany curves, and IQ levels.

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Next time you come face-to-face with the ironing board tyranny that batters the egos of those with figures that owe more to an hourglass than a plank of wood, take heart.

Studies have shown that curvy women are likely to be brighter than our waif-like sisters – and more likely to produce intelligent offspring.

Yes! (You have to imagine me punching the air at this point). At last, scientific proof that not only is it alright, but BETTER, to be All Woman.

Apparently, the bigger the difference between a woman’s waist and hips, the better. And, speaking as your classic English pear-shape, that’s great news....

(Read on at http://www.beckicklesie.com/2010/11/smarts-in-hourglass.html)

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There's a bit of a Guest Blog Festival going on right now, so head over to www.beckicklesie.com for many more words of wit and wisdom on a wide range of issues.

You won't regret it!

Let's talk about sex

The world is obsessed with it.

When it’s good, there’s nothing like it. When it’s bad, it’s just not worth the bother.

For centuries it was taboo – and now you can’t escape it.

Sex.

But I think we take it all too seriously, don’t you? I mean, I’m all for it. But is it only me that thinks it is SO much better when it’s served up with a side dish of laughter?

Judging by what some memorable folk have had to say about the subject, I'm happy to report that I’m not alone:

You know ‘that look’ women get when they want sex? Me neither.
- Steve Martin

Having sex is like playing bridge. If you don’t have a good partner, you better have a good hand.
- Woody Allen

Bisexuality immediately doubles your chances of a date on a Saturday night.
- Rodney Dangerfield

Sex at age 90 is like trying to shoot pool with a rope.
- George Burns

Women might be able to fake orgasms. But men can fake whole relationships.
- Sharon Stone

My girlfriend always laughs during sex – no matter what she’s reading.
- Steve Jobs

Clinton lied. A man might forget where he parks or where he lives, but he never forgets oral sex, no matter how bad it is.
- Barbara Bush (an unexpected spark of wicked humour from a former First Lady)

Women need a reason to have sex. Men need a place.
- Billy Crystal

According to a new survey, women say they feel more comfortable undressing in front of men than they do undressing in front of other women. They say that women are too judgmental, where of course men are just grateful.
- Robert De Niro

The problem is that God gives men a brain and a penis, and only enough blood to run one at a time.
- Robin Williams

So, don’t be afraid to giggle as you tussle under the eiderdown folks.

And, you men-folk out there, please don’t take it personally. Laughter is good (and surprisingly sexy).

You’d prefer that we cry when you whip off your Y-Fronts, maybe?

(Not so) Silent Sunday