So I started yesterday with a mate-date. Met my buddy Dolores for a morning coffee in Costa. I’ve said it before and I’ll repeat myself, Costa are bone idle when it comes to providing gluten free alternatives. I know I’m an annoyance to baristas (that’s what coffee and tea technicians are called nowadays) when I ask about their GF options. I felt the same when I was a barmaid (alcohol consultant) and people asked for a cup of tea on a busy night. However, one would think that with the rising number of glutards, Costa and other soulless coffee chains would have broadened their range. As it stands, my breakfast options are limited to a long-life, packaged, gluten free brownie or a portion of seeds that wouldn’t satisfy a smurf. Their soya latte was grand and kept me going for a time. Thankfully Dolores compensated for crap choices with fun company.
From there, I made my way to my morning date with a speculum. That delightful implement used to widen a lady’s vaginal wall so medical staff can have a nose. It looks a bit like a wine opener. Very popular for smears and colposcopy. I can come to terms with the necessity for this tool on the basis that there is probably no dignified way of rooting around in a lady garden. Due to ongoing gynaelogical complaints, I have become well accustomed to this procedure and at this stage I feel my vagina should have one of those brown touristy signs at the entrance, citing it as a point of interest. I wish someone would think of an alternative to the stirrups. Nothing screams Victorian torture chamber like a bed with mounted, chrome stirrups. I find myself yearning to yell “Yee-ha” and slap the consultant’s arse every time I am helped into them. I’m not certain how she’d take it though. She seems like a serious type. Yet, however undignified and barbaric this practice seems, it is a vital part of maintaining and ensuring our health so I suppose the speculum is sort of your mate. I advise all women to get intimate with it once and a while (obviously with a medical professional present and in control of it…Don’t whip it out at home!). Not only can it play a role in preventing and diagnosing cervical cancer, it can flag pelvic inflammatory disease, strep infections and a plethora of STIs…no need for embarrassment these days – STIs are so prominent, the pope could rock up to his GP with a case of crabs and they wouldn’t bat an eyelid. So if you have not done so in a while, do your vajayjay a favour and book a smear test. If you live in Ireland and have your PPS number handy, go to http://www.cervicalcheck.ie and see when you are due your next free smear.
So my stove fitter finally showed up to price the fitting. He emerged from his van which had a ‘Boru‘ logo emblazoned on the side to reassure me that this guy knows his stuff….that David was ‘Boru’s guy in my area’. His flaming red hair was beautifully incorporated into the the fire image on the logo when he stood proudly beside his vehicle. It was an impressive sight. I wondered if his career had been predestined by his hair colour. I do love a ginger. I fancy ginger men to the extent that they would have to be sporting a colony of warts and have a chronic body odour problem in order to deter me. My husband is a brunette and I often wonder if I should have got the priest who married us to issue a receipt. His handshake was firm and I felt secure and confident that we would not be burnt to a crisp as a result of dodgy workmanship. He impressed me with his appropriate questions. “Are there vents in this room?” He obviously didn’t want my family to be poisoned by carbon monoxide. Dave was sweet. He used his phone torch to inspect my gaping hole (pun intended) and made his way back to the Bat/Boru mobile to crunch some figures. Five minutes later, he alighted, quote folded in hand and tentatively handed it to me……€1254.00! I did stagger a bit. My husband voiced his shock with an audible intake of breath and a very loud “Jaysus!”. (I’m inwardly willing him to shut up…he was making Dave uncomfortable!) The figure was considerably larger than I had budgeted but my new buddy assured me that while I could get some sloppy cowboy to shove a tube up my chimney (stove metaphors are fun) his service would ensure my hole would receive the correct care and attention, ensuring safe ignition forever more. There was no thinking necessary…Dave was my guy….He had me at “I’m going to put about 9 metres up there”. I’ve never had a proposition like this before.
On the diet front, yesterday’s meals were sensational. I began my days munching with a quinoa and sweet potato fritter , guacamole and poached eggs served with a ginger ale, lime and lemon juice mocktail. For lunch I ate poached eggs again (4 eggs in a day…it was a once off) in a spinach and pancetta salad. For a snack in the evening, I had more overnight oats, layering gluten free oats, alpro soya yogutt and chopped berries. I know it’s a breakfast recipe but I just had a hankering. I feel far less bloated this week but that is probably largely down to the fact that I have been clean of prosecco and wine for 5 days.
Off to the Cork Arts Theatre tonight to watch ‘Janey Dillis’, a play by the same playwright that penned ‘Fred and Alice. I love the CAT and have tread the boards there myself recently with ‘The Telephone Exchange’. The tickets include tapas and a glass of wine. I’m not sure how coeliac friendly this will be so I might have to bring the old GF sliced pan in my handbag. I have just set up a Meaty Mammy facebook page which was launched this morning. I’ve not done much with it yet but I will get to it asap. Feel free to follow me on FB, twitter or instagram. Asta manana my friends!