Sorry I didn't post last night, it was the man's Christmas dinner at work. It started at 10pm. Yup, you read that correctly, 10pm.
We're kind of getting used to this, but still.....
The food was quite uneven in quality, some was really fairly badly done, and some was fine, and there was one moment of pure epicurean delight that made it all worthwhile.
I had the lamb, I got a leg. It was a serving fit for Obelix. Honestly, I would have needed maternity clothing if I was going to finish it. It was good it was so big though because the man's bacalla, cod, was FAR too salty. Someone screwed up badly on the soaking and rinsing process there. He finished mine.
The one thing I had that was good was a croquette. Now, every single one of these I have ever eaten here has been unutterably d i s g u s t i n g. Picture deep fried wallpaper paste. Blech.
This one however was porc senglar, as in wild boar. There was definitely an Obelix theme to the night....it was crisp and gorgeous on the outside and savory and unbelievably delicious on the inside. No wallpaper paste in sight. Oh my. So so so good.
When we got home, that's when the fun really began. You see we left the dinner early, at 1am. We were far and away the first and everyone else was settling in for the fun, but the kids were home alone, the babysitter was sick as a dog, and at their age in a country where their communication skills are marginal and we don't have family to call, that was late enough for me.
But you see, when we got home we had a little problem. Normally here, they lock the door with the key when they are inside, and you need a key to get out again. I find this a hassle and also potentially dangerous in a fire, so we use the sliding bolt when we are home. One of those locks that you cannot open from outside when it is 1:30am and the kids are both asleep.
We phoned, we buzzed, we pounded on the door, we rang the bell, we hooted and yelled, but our children sleep veeerrrrrrrrrrrry veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy deeply. They have slept through a hurricane on a 27 foot boat. In harbour I will grant, but you had to hang onto your bunk. They have slept through all manner of disgusting weather on the boat, where they are literally getting air time off the mattress, like at the top of a swing.
It was very difficult to get them up. Chuck was doing his level best, barking his head off, but without opposable thumbs he was not of any real use.
Eventually, around 2:30 am one of the guys living below us got up. Poor guy. His flatmates were still out partying. He got into the spirit of the whole thing though, invited us into his back patio, got a broom and hammered on eldest's window while I hollered and Chuck had a nervous breakdown in the kitchen. The children slept on. The rather heavy screen window fell off eldest's window, fortunately not braining our neighbour, nor knocking him off the stool, then another of the guys arrived. He is VERY fit. He chinned himself up onto our back balcony and tried to get in. I thought Chuck was going to just about die now, he was spinning in circles and barking continuously.
The children slept on.
Neighbour 2 then stepped onto the AC unit outside Eldest's window, which she sleeps immediately under, cranked up the blind, a noisy business itself, and hammered on the window. He cannot have been more than a foot from her. She slept peacefully.
Neighbour 1 started making plans for the man and I to sleep in their apartment. This fiasco continued for a while longer, my man pounding on the door so hard he was shaking the building. Finally Youngest woke up. She sleeps in the front of the building. Eldest remained blissfully unaware of the entire show.
We got in. At last. Youngest was VERY grumpy about being woken up in the night.
Got into bed around 3.
Shopped basically all day.
I am vewy vewy sweepy.
It was very funny though too. I felt like one of the three stooges. Or one of the Romans.