Author: Rob

On Saturday there, I went into Liverpool to meet Graeme, Lisa, and Simon to watch the football and have a few drinks. We started off at a shady old man’s pub for a quick one, before heading down to a new-ish sports bar in the regenerated area of the town center.

The sports bar was very similar to the one I frequent in London with Cousin Iain, so I think it’s part of the same franchise. Anyhow, it was mega crowded – leading to immediate thoughts that we’d be better served elsewhere. Literally – it took Simon a good ten minutes to get the first round in and he’s not the kind of person who goes unnoticed at the bar.

Graeme, Lisa and Simon headed off to find somewhere quieter, while I opted to hang around with oirish Gavin who we’d met there. As Simon had noted, it actually was a good atmosphere for watching football, but after they’d left the place continued to get more crowded and I was glad to go and join the rest of the gang in a quieter pub at half time in the match.

The match over and done with we went to Pizza Express for some very tasty pizza’s and a couple of bottles of surprisingly good house white. We were in the restaurant for quite some time, finishing off the wine, so when we left Simon decided to call it a day, while the rest of us went off to meet Gavin in Flanigan’s Apple. We had one drink there, before heading to a bar called Revolution, a trendy new-ish place that replaced the previously trendy Bluu Bar, to meet Tom.

It was quite a nice place and we got a seat around a table after not too long, which kind of camped us there for the rest of the evening. Truth being told, I had probably had enough to drink by the time we got there, so several hours later when we left I was pretty well sloshed. Graeme and Lisa left at that point and I headed off with Gavin, who had offered to put me up for the night to save me an expensive trip home.

My mum, dad and brother Andrew came down to visit us on Thursday, staying in a travel lodge nearby in what turned out to be quite a convenient arrangement.

On Thursday I had gone out for a while after work for a friend’s birthday, thinking I’d have time for a couple of shandies before the folks arrived. When I got the call that they were here I took on the responsibility of bringing home an indian meal for everyone. Maybe I just lack imagination, but it seems like every time my mum comes down I do this. Tasty, though. ;o)

On Friday Fliss, Elisha and my mum and dad went down to the retail park for some odds and ends, leaving Andrew and I to play TimeSplitters, as is tradition. We had a good go at the co-operative story mode before everyone arrived back and I had to get out and cut the grass, as promised before they left.

Fliss had bought some plant food for my chilli plant William at the retail park, as he’s a bit under the weather after she put him outdoors for a night in February. I’m not convinced he’ll recover fully, but my mum seemed to think he’d perked up a little after the plantfood and some time out in the sunshine while I cut the grass.

Later in the evening we went to the travel lodge my family were staying at for a meal. The hotel was reasonably smart and the food was alright, but as the night wore on Elisha was being a bit fractious and I was knackered too, so it was good to get home at the end of the day.

We had planned to go to Southport on Saturday, but my mum decided that the weather wasn’t good enough to make the effort when she got up, so we settled for the short drive to Sefton Park instead. Once there the weather picked up and it made for a really nice afternoon. I threw the american football about with, or rather at Andrew, and the grass was dry enough that we could run about on it without slipping or getting wet and muddy. Not bad, considering the cold snap we’ve had recently.

I made Fliss and I a vegetable stir fry the other night – firstly because I’ve had so much chicken recently I’m sure they think it’s some kind of vendetta, and secondly because we had vegetables to use up. I had the peppers, broad beans, bean sprouts, and baby corn things all sizzling away in a dash of olive oil shortly after getting home on Tuesday evening.

After a few minutes of said sizzling I added the sweet chilli sauce I’d picked up from Tesco’s on the way home and stuck the rice on. The contents of the wok didn’t smell too hot and at this point I actually thought it would have been a good idea to invite Graeme and Lisa around for the Super Foxy Stir Fry vegetarian option. It turned out to be a lucky escape for them.

Five minutes later, the food was on the plate, we were on the sofa, and the first mouthfulls were being munched upon. This is the point where we both discoved that the sauce was not quite the “sweet chilli” variety we’d been expecting.

This was like eating thermite cooked in lava.

We ow’d and ooh’d our way through the first few forkfulls, expecting it would level out. But it just kept getting hotter. Fliss was first to crack, making a break for the kitchen in an attempt to cool her blazing mouth. It’s rare that a spicey meal beats me, though – I even had the measure of that chilli chicken tikka that I’d had down in Ealing last August… even if I couldn’t talk for a while afterwards. It soon became apparent that soldiering on was pure folly on this occasion. My mouth was positively smouldering and I could feel the scorch marks all the way down to my stomach by this time.

To continue would have been madness – I dropped my fork and made for the kitchen, hoping that a glass of milk would at least lower the temperature. It did, but only just. I had to swill the milk around in my mouth for any relief, but as soon as I swallowed the burning sensation came back with a vengance. There was no way I was going back for more, but Fliss had had the idea of mixing her food with some sour cream and chives dip we had, so she took on what was left of hers. Obviously she was much more hungry than I was.