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Sunday, 17 July 2011


My beloved and I trust each other.

Yeah Right.

Well actually we do trust each other.

I trust her to trust me, and she trusts me to trust her.


We both have our little secrets, and this morning, she caught me, and she immediately brought up the concept of trust.

Why do women always blow up things out of all proportion.

Did she catch me having an affair with another woman?


Did she catch me watching pornography on the "Machine of Satan"?


Did she catch me penning a steamy love-letter to another?


Did she catch me draining a bottle of whisky surreptitiously in the broom cupboard?

I'm not here

No. (That was last week)

Did she catch me doing something obscene with a chicken and a pot of honey?


Waht actually happened was that she caught me sneaking ONE piece of meat out of the absolutely delicious pot of beef Rendang (Concentrated Indonesian type curry with coconut cream)

We had it for dinner last night and it was so rich and mouth-filling that I just couldn't resist its delights at breakfast.

She was not amused, and accused me of betraying her trust.


What the hell has ONE piece of beef curry got to do with trust?

Any man  I know will habitually sneak little pieces of food from pots in preparation or storage.  I regard it as a compliment of the highest order.

But she doesn't, and it will take me weeks of dedicated and obsiquious effort to rebuild the trust again.

Life's a bummer sometimes.

What a bummer


  1. TSB - I honestly can't see what the problem is.
    Sneaking leftovers out of the fridge is a long time kiwi tradition. Are you Scots so mean as to make one another feel guilty about pecking at the leftovers? What is the big deal or was your beloved planning to feed you the leftovers for the rest of the week. That's what used to happen when I was a lass. My folk were so poor.
    A sunday roast lasted nearly the whole week in my home in one form or another. I copped it one day when I exclaimed "oh no not leftover beef again". Mother was not amused. Father sent me to my room without dinner as punishment,in his stern school teacher grimace and voice. And me being the spirited wee lassy I was, promptly jumped out my bedroom window and went down the street to play with my mates, as it was summer and the daylight hours were long. Eventually I was discovered and marched home. I still wondered what the fuss was about.

  2. I was going to say something deep and moral about the trust of an infant in the womb being compromised by abortion ; but after reading Valley Girl I feel strange and a little dizzy.

  3. Good.
    Try a quick dose of moral imperative, folllowed by a large dose of whisky.

  4. Valley Girl: I think my beloved was concerned with the coconut milk in the curry from going rancid on exposure to air.
    I used to love "old" beef or lamb, especially in the Scottish (East Coast)dish of stovies, made from cubed lamb/beef, lamb/beef fat onions and leeks, and cubed potatoes.

  5. I took your advice and even had some categorical imperative; but in the end what is right is of devine origin so I just finished my wine and had dinner.

  6. You make a very important point on the 'going off' stakes here Twisted. In fact you could have pleaded a defence of 'quality checking'!

    Leftovers and the scoffing thereof is not a breach of trust, simply the male animal fulfilling his nature. In fact you could also plead that leaving leftovers around, instead of freezing them for example, is tantamount to torture, unless you are specifically advised not to touch.

    You seem to be hard done by in this instance. Perhaps you should use those famous Scots skills of sulking.


  7. No, leaving left overs just attracts even more mice. Sulking is emotional violence and is not acceptable in any culture! Though I could be wrong.

  8. Second: I think you've overdone the wine a bit.

    Alistair: Well spotted, I did in fact try and use the QC method, but was immediately shot down by a Force 10 GLARE from my beloved. I sulk very well, and also do a very skilled skulk, which allows a repeat re-sampling of the food in the pots.

    Second (again) Mice, we don't have mice. We had mice but they ate the leftover meatloaf and died. Sulking is an aquired skill for males, but is partof a females natural battery of defences.


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