bigfoodiemama

"Do not try to control things, not even a little bit" said my stars on Sunday. This struck a note with me as I may be guilty of wanting to maintain control, a source of amusement and ridicule from my family members (ie. the Mad one and Spud Farmer ). I decided to take the advice and vowed to "go with the flow a little". That evening, while watching The Fall ( oh my God, how hot is Jamie Dornan !) GASP advised me he wanted "to try something different". Although the control freak in me wanted to know exactly what he was talking about, when he said " trust me, just go with it" I knew I had to......just this once ! What if I put it here he said.....Oh dear Lord this was well outside my cmnfort zone . "No, you'll have to move it" I said in a panic. " No" said GASP gently......"just leave it here for a few minutes to get used to it". It wasn't easy . I so wanted him to move it, return it to it's usual, familiar

bigfoodiemama: Facial hair, Fabulous Fifty and Fantasies : So Bangin' Barry has grown a beard. It suits him but he seeks confirmation from every woman he meets ,refusing to take advice from 5 foo...

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Rumour was rife last week that a top secret celebrity event was to take place in the little known hamlet called "The Mills of Louth". Initial suspicion arose when Bangin' Barry was seen checking his reflection in every refelctive surface up the Main street in Ardee, but sources close to the bachelor advised us this was pefectly normal behaviour on his part. The Spud Farmer ( aka Hefner) had allegedly cut short a trip to his country estate in Donegal and the Dancing Butcher was seen to take in vast quantities of Louth Caviar ( ie. pig). The top secret invitations were circulated throuogh an exclusive closed group online, but suggestion that it is in fact a cult were disputed. Among those who had to decline were Macho Martha who was due to be at a Matador event in Spain, Energetic Enda and Sheckles Shekleton who had plans made with Rory Mc Elroy and The Body Poppin' Postman who could not decide if he was "Home or Away" .Paparazzi, in the area behind the spud

So last night, GASP and the Mad One happily agreed that I should accompany the Spud Farmer to the official launch of the SCD DVD. Due to an incident involving my having gone to Zumba 3 weeks ago with MILF Mullarkey, I offered to drive, as I am on a cocktail of medication for back pain as a result of Twerking and Body Rolling. It may suit the physique of Miley Cyrus and Barry Buttocks, but not this 44 year old mother of 2 !I should have been able to work out what kind of evening it would be when the pint of Heineken post showed up on our SCD private Facebook page, and the fact that numerous dancers were planning pre drinking drinks..... The Spud Farmer arrived out to my car clad in the standard Spud Farmer attire of creased jeans, checked shirt and the affluent farmer adjunct of a Tommy Hilfiger canvas jacket. I was in my flat shoes as back pain and heels don't mix, so at least I knew my feet would survive what was to come. The Spud Farmer advised me early on that the night would go

So, last Thursday, the decision was made by the Mad One that the Spud Farmer was to take her to "Finally all there " Bogger's bar in the local town.Thursday, quite frankly a ridiculous night to go out, was chosen due to the 2 for 1 cocktail promotion. I was confident I could survive in that I was going to be driving, so Fridays work would be manageable.Then GASP suggested he would come with me immediately doubling, and very quickly trebbling my planned consumption. GASP is not a man for pubs, as a non drinker, so I reckon he was metaphorically "peeing up my leg", possibly a little concerned that I was about to elope with a fellow dancer....women of my age need to be watched ! This led to a conversation at work with the young ones, in regard to what does a 40 something woman wear to a pub for a 2-4-1 cocktail night in a rural town. The advice was "jeans, heels and a nice top", so after work I popped down to Dunnes to get a new pair of fitted jeans, as

This may well be the hardest blog I have ever written. The nature of blogs is that they find amusing things about ordinary life, not as I am about to to do, try to capture the escense of an extraordinary event. Last weekend was Strictly Extraordinary. Friday night saw our dress rehearsal. Now the Mad One had advised me that T.W.I.N.C would not have had a personality change from the Wednesday and would still be narky...oh boy was she right. So much so, that Masticating Matthews threatened to strangle him...Stage 1 of T.W.I.N.C. vs Matthews. The Spud Farmer did manage to cause a moment of hilarity however, when during his first Bee Gee type disco move he caught his afro wig with the tip of his finger and it flew across the stage.Midst much laughter he retrieved the wig, only to put it on backwards and tilted over his eyes, making him look even more rediculous, which was quite an acheievement, based on the fact that he was dressed like a cross between Prince, Scooby Doo and a male Strippe

So, the last night of training took place on a Wednesday. T.W.I.N.C., who is usually more cheerful on a Wednesday decided to bring his Monday humour so made no friends. The Honey Monster and I demonstrated our dance for him , only to be told it lacked any perfromance and was "boring"...the cheek. Mind you, he accused Macho Martha and the One Legged Scot of being "comical". This was was not received well by Macho, whose face looked as if he might be, yet again, choosing a window. By the time practice finished, everyone was in need of a drink and to let their hair down.....off to the KAC Shack we went for the Boys Tanning Night.....oh yes ! Now, I was under the impression that a couple of the more competitive males would be the only ones partaking of the spray tan, so as to increase the ante, but it turned into a tanfest ! We descended upon the KAC Shack with drinks and were greeted by bowls of the Dancing Butchers Chicken Goujons, which we duly devoured. No sooner ha

T.W.I.N.C. has decided he quite likes his new name, but did advise me to google it's meaning...I duly googled TWINK only to find it referred to a slender young man, the term stemming ( no pun intended) from the "golden coloured phallic-shaped snack cake, the "Twinkie", known for being of little nutritional value, sweet to the taste and creme filled, memorable more for it's outer packaging as opposed to it's inner depth....I rest my case :) Last Wednesday night T.W.I.N.C. was in great form ( Wednesdays are always better than Mondays) As I lay snivelling on the floor about to leap up beside the Honey Monster, T.W.I.N.C. yelled "Finger Him". This followed his instruction to Macho Martha and The One Legged Scot earlier in the evening to "give me sex, two pumps and a squirt". Cautiously ( still recovering from the previous weeks " pick a window /bowl of brave incident")T.W.I.N.C. suggested that Macho might smile and look to attract h

There are those in life for whom first attempts just don't cut it. Take Shimmyin' Shane and Leggy Leah for instance. Last night, they endured the amateur comments of at least 8 of us newly qualified dancers, as they repeatedly tried to perfect their big lift. Poor Leggy Leah...everyone had advice for her " jump higher, lean forwards, keep travelling forwards, relax ". Shimmyin' Shane must have wondered if his arms would ever work again as he managed attempt, after attempt, after attempt. The Dancing Butcher, Body Poppin Postman and Honey Monster all leant hands...literally, and Leggy never gave up. Mind you, at one stage I asked Shimmyin' which dance he was doing, to which he quickly replied "Hand Job....NO....Jive!" For the Honey Monster, our first attempt at the twist just isn't exciting enough, so he suggested I observe John Sergeant and Kristina Rihanoff, off the BBC's SCD, "to pick up a few steps". I duly did as my partner adv

Gavin Glitter was a bit late for last nights practice so in my usual shy fashion, I took the warm up. Quite hilarious really,as Ithink I am the only dancer still unable to touch her toes.Now,this crowd of dancers need alot of handling,as they are a rowdy lot, so I let a yell at Bangin Barry and the Spud Farmer to stop talking , but then had to swiftly avert my gaze to Barry Buttocks who nudged Masticating Matthews , causing her to hit the deck. "Enough" I yelled , causing Masticating Matthews to christen me "Dirty Dominatrix" ......I liked it,so continued in that vein, as I advised them all to " go down" and " spread their legs " . Calamity Ali was on red alert, so took some controlling, but all in all I had them " whipped" into shape when Gorgeous Grainne and Gavin Glitter arrived. "Take your favourite positions Gavin yelled , (asking me to choose carefully) and off we went.We were short a couple of folks Bashful Aisling , Barely

As the Honey Monster loomed over me, I looked at him, bent fully fowards towards his crotch, nestled my head between his legs, placed my hands between my legs, felt him lean down over me, grasp my hands and pull hard causing me to flip over landing on my feet pressed hard against his chest....I had "rammed" the Honey Monster...to use the official dancing term. Personally I felt "rammed" and could not feel two fingers for a few minutes, such was the brutality of the assault. This Strictly Come Dancing business is getting serious....and dangerous ! We are dancing the Twist for God's sake...hardly the most infamous of dances, so why does my butt, stomach, thighs, arms and chest hurt so much. The Honey Monster looked as if he was about to rupture something during one lift and, I could tell, was lamenting not getting Leggy Leah as his partner ( she's got the Shimmy'n Shane) . Lovely Lennon offered to demonstrate the complex lift, but I went left as he thought

Well it's been quite a week. Following the " launch" last Saturday night...it took a few people days to recover, we attended training on Monday night to find out which dance style we would have to dance. Honey Monster and I were given "The Twist", which does involve a couple of major lifts...Honey Monster looked nervous ! That same night I was advised that I could have a different parthner for the group dance, and Gavin Glitter decided that my dear brother in law, the Spud Farmer was to be my mate....OMG ! What followed was painful, embarassing and hilarious. You see, the group dance involves your partner catching you as you fall back and turning you over twice to bring you back into standing....unless the Spud Farmer is your partner, when you will end up on all fours with him riding you like a cowboy, to the hysterical laughter of all the other dancers. It gets worser ! Later in the dance all the men drop quickly to their knees, to allow the women to "thro

Last night I was " launched".....more Titanic than QE2 remarked GASP !. The official launch night of SCD occurred last night in the local Golf Club and was a blast. The dancers all met at 6.15 in a local hostelry even though the event was due to kick off at 8.00 pm. Methinks the committee had a wee plan to have us all a little " relaxed" in advance of taking to the stage. In true Irish form, we were provided sandwiches and cocktail sausages as "soakage" and at 7.30 the Dancing Butcher asked to us to head outside. I was all excited as all the talk was of two limos...limos my arse...two minibuses took us, in our black tie attire, to the back entrance of the Golf Club for our top secret entrance..I swear I felt like I was in Westlife. Inside we were greeted by Paparrazzi, Prosecco and a box of Thorntons chocolates and the fun began. I soon found out I was numero Uno to head to the stage escorted by the Leinster U18 Rugby captain, who looked very nervous as I

Right, so my injury has rendered me useless as regards actully dancing but I made a perfect spectator. Gavin Glitter dragged me up the front, my having decided that, in order to stay in the game, I still needed to attend training. "When are you allowed dance again?" asked Gavin. "Monday" said I. With a wee glint in his gamey eye Gavin Glitter asked... " Sex?".... "Loads" said I...are ye asking ?"Poor Gavin Glitter nearly choked as he uttered "F*** No !" I giggled to myself and relaxed against the wall to watch the group dance practice. Bangin' Barry winked at me and off the boys went like a heard of wilderbeasts dancing to Elton John. Poor Bangin' could not remember one section but improvised with a couple of pirouettes ( not in the programme) and big arm movements....and got away with it. Utterly Butterly concerntrated hard, so hard that he looked as if he was constipated but, following some gentle encourgement from the s

Last week as I travelled home from work I overheard an interview with a man who lived in the same village as Colm "Gooch" Cooper. The Gooch had sustained an Anterior Cruciate Injury and the man on the radio was asked how this news had affected those in the area.He then uttered the words " It was like a death in the family" I was shocked. As a woman who has, in my other career, taken care of county football players and All Ireland Winners, even I thought this was a crazy statement.At the end of the day....it's sport....not life or death. The radio coverage of The Gooch's injury, surgery and recovery has continued with an air of reverence and admiration....a bit too much fuss....or so I thought. Last night, at the Monday edition of SCD ( Strictly Come Dancing) a truly shocking and terrible thing happened...and I don't mean watching the bum wiggling of some of the male dancers. I was throwing myself wholeheartedly into the Salsa, trying hard to match the e

Having been accosted over a pound of sausages by the Dancing Butcher, I find myself enlisted in the local "Strictly Come Dancing" ( SCD from now on). I did not enter this reluctantly as, having spent some time losing 2 stone, I am keen to get fit and this appeared to be a fun way of exercising, while gaining a new skill and meeting some new people.Practice started this week and I showed up in my new slinky sports wear...not like the baggy drawstring tracksuit bottoms of old. My sparkling new trainers immediately identified me as someone to whom exercise is alien, but I was full of enthusiasm. I decided to take my place in the back row for the warm up stretches, one of which involved bending forwards from the waist with arms spread and remaining at a 90 degree angle for a count of 8. Little did I know that this shot of me taken from behind by a local photographer , would be the one which graced the local Rugby Club Facebook page with the caption " guess who is training f

So last night I had the pleasure of spending my Saturday night in the compnay of the Financial Advisor and the Blonde, in a local dinner serving ( of course) hostelry. The converstion was flowing from minute one, as it does in the company of those who know each other so well . The talk quickly got round to Italy, as I was boasting of the Canneloni I had prepared earlier in the day, with a view to healthy lunches for the week. As my two dear friends are serious foodies, I questioned them in realtion to the difference between Picorino and Parmesan cheese, as my recipe demanded the former, whereas my fridge only contained the latter.The decison was taken that Picorino was just a milder form of Parmesan and that my Canneloni would not fall based on a decison to choose one over the other. This led on to the Blonde advising us that , as her next BIG ( and I mean BIG!) birthday was in 18 months time, she wished to advise us, that she actually wanted to go to Italy. She expressed a desire to h

So the Mad One phones me saying " I have it...your intro for Strictly Come Dancing (SCD).Take a look at Jack by Breach on U tube and phone me back...I am sure we can get the costumes" I advised her that I had never heard of it and asked how to spell the artists name...." Breach as in birth" was the answer and with that she hung up. As GASP was reading the Sky Sports page on my tablet and WWE was entertaining the 2 boys on the x box, I resorted to turning on my sons newly acquired tablet, in my keen curiousity to view this musical masterpiece and the "costumes". I typed in the required terms on Google and hit play ........she has TOTALLY lost it this time ! As a dance tune "Jack" is not bad, but the costumes are human hair...yes, people dressed in clothing made entirely of long straight blonde,frizzy bruntette or curly red hair....human hair !!!!! Now, I may not be the worlds brightest but I really don't think the Rugby Club of my local agri