Life is like...

... a box of chocolates. When its empty, its time to find a new box and start the gluttony afresh.



Zürich, being the unofficial capital of Switzerland, and the home-bound ambassador of chocolate, finds itself being that chocolate box. However, as said box is coming to the end, and someone must finish the orange ganache filled specimen, it will be a while before OH and I pick up a new box to start the process anew.

It is a difficult time to get through the humdrum slog of life, before we find ourselves in new climes. I am finding it particularly difficult to get through the next 12 months before we embark on a new journey, and trips out to set up shop in the new abode and imagining our new home is proving to be difficult in maintaining the daily equilibrium. There are days when I want to turn round and say: Fuck You All.

I will however, persevere. Instead, I am savouring every last morsel of the seasons. Asparagus has taken on a new dimension, nectarines, albeit from Chile, seem to be sweeter (after the antihistamines). The hunting season, although 6 months away, promises delicate and succulent flavours from every morsel that Mother Nature yields. At that time, I will be grasping hold to OH's hand, and promising him loyalty, devotion and half of my inheritance.

All that, and more, I promise. If, and only if, he allows me the frivolity of a Céilidh band for the Gay Gordons at some point during the celebrations.

Watch this space.

The countdown begins

Since OH proposed back in December, its taken a while for the news to filter through to friends. It has also taken a while for it to filter into my consciousness, and finally updating my Facebook status to 'engaged' prompted a flurry of messages and well wishers. I'm almost tempted to remove my relationship status just so it shows up as 'Marmoset is no longer in a relationship' just for the drama of it. My family, ie Mother and Father have yet to find out, but my siblings are eagerly picking out colours and dresses for the occasion.

We have now decided that the celebrations will take place in the North of England, around the Scottish borders. We have also decided that it will be in autumn, because frankly, apart from asparagus in the spring, we couldn't really think of anything else that was exciting enough for us to have at the meal. Autumn however, provides us with a variety of exciting things: scallops, truffles, game, and whisky. I know that whisky is not strictly an autumnal product, but for the sake of it, lets go with it.

Immediately following the proposal, OH launched into full planning mode, which with almost 20 months to go, was a bit of an overkill. Since then, we've been speaking about small elements of the big day, and together we're approaching it from very different views, apart from the food angle.

Many years ago I was at an event and speaking to the Chinese Ambassador, who was recounting the way the world works. I remember the analogy of the world climbing the same mountain, and the different views that people had. The closer to the pinnacle, the more the view started to be the same. OH and I have started the climb, but hopefully, we'll have the same view when we get there.

I've been thinking that I'm going to start documenting the events in the lead up to this Big Day. There will be tantrums, and there will be laughs, but there will definitely not be a Bridezilla moment.

I hope.

Someone like who?

I started thinking of the past when I first heard this, and missed opportunities, but however much I tried to lament, I couldn't. That is because I don't have to find someone like you, because OH, I have you...

Happy New Year!

These are my engagement present.

OH proposed quite by surprise in Edinburgh, after we'd been to see the in-laws and skidding halfway down the A1 from the British border onwards that had no grit or salt on. After my crying and saying yes, our first stop was the homewares sale at John Lewis where we picked up lots of cheap bedding, then onto a long lunch at Martin Wisheart in Leith. Next stop, the airport, and we landed back in Switzerland just in time for a couple of episodes of Glee.

Very Gay Indeed, as OH put it.

Happy New Year everyone. More shenanigans to follow.

How to Surprise Someone

For OH's birthday every year I try to make it a memorable one for him. Like the first year we were together, I was learning French at university, so as a gift with benefits, I booked us on a trip to Paris. The plan was to wake up in the morning, and tell him that we were going on an adventure, turn up at Waterloo, collect the suitcase I'd packed the night before from left luggage, and whisk him off to the City of Lights. A few snags to this plan though, a week before we were meant to leave, OH called me in a panic to ask if I'd seen his passport as he needed it for a visa application to Kenya. I answered in the affirmative, and he spent the rest of the time thinking what it was doing in my flat (back when we lived seperately), and so he figured it out before it was a great surprise. However, the fact that I'd arranged a surprise birthday party for him the night before completely escaped him and that turned out to be good fun.

This year, I decided on another trip, and back in October I told him to take a few days off for his birthday as I wanted to take him to Destination X. By the time I got round to booking the tickets, the price for Destination X has increased twofold, so I booked Destination Y instead. Destination Y was supposed to be a secret, but I thought at one point OH had found out about Destination Y, but it turned out he was thinking of Destination N, and it was inadvertently let out the bag that it was Destination Y we were heading to.

However, OH is now so focussed on Destination Y, I'm thinking that perhaps I should have booked Destination N, or Destination Z instead. Oh well, its all booked now. Tune in next week to find out where we went...

(OH found the link to this blog eventually, and I'm not about to ruin the surprise further...)

Valentines, schmalentines...

So, for the last few years running OH has been religiously buying me roses on Valentine's day, which although I insist I don't want, I still receive. So, I dutifully recycle the roses every 10 days later, stripping the petals off and discarding the stalk and scattering part of it on the table on which I serve his birthday dinner, then between clearing the dishes I surreptitiously pick out the cleanest rose petals and then throw them on the bed. Its not that any vigorous activity commences between the sheets after a 4 course dinner, but its the thought that counts. Who said romance was dead?

Anyway, this year I didn't receive any roses but I am relieved. I always find it difficult to look excited and to muster up enough enthusiasm over the hype that's created this Hallmark festival, sending a number of those in a relationship into a gaga eyed frenzy, and those who aren't into a depressive mood. Red blood on white bathroom tiles does not a Valentines make.

This year I had the perfect Valentines. We drove into the mountains and skiied all day with our best friends, then back to their châlet for some wine and fondue. A couple of joints thrown in and we played Pictionary until we felt tired and went to bed, the sound of the crackling fire in the stone stove, and the musty smell of old wood being the perfect canvas for a good night's sleep. And when we woke up the next day, the sun was blazing and there was fresh powder on the slopes.

But our car was stuck in ice.