Dad and his friends are off on a trip. Literally and metaphorically.
He calls me last night. 'When we return, we'll all land up at your place for dinner.'
Me: OK
Dad: We're a group of 10
Me: Not an issue
Dad: make idli and curd rice. They're all old people.
(Dad's 83, just FYI)
Me: Just tell me what you want to eat and I'll make it.
Dad: Make plenty of vathakuzhambu to eat with curd rice.
Me: OK, done
Dad calls after a bit. 'Let the oldies eat curd rice. Make pooris for those who want'
Me: Not an issue
Dad: These are older folks so they won't eat much.
I assure him that making pooris for his group is really no problem.
After some time
Dad: Make the Potato the way I like. With lots of runny gravy.
Me: sure
After some time
Dad: put plenty of onions in the Potato curry.
Me: alright
Dad: don't be stingy with onions.
Me: I wont
By this time the OH and kids are in splits.
The OH wonders whether Dad is more interested in his holiday or post holiday dinner.
Kids find his food combos hilarious.
I tell my OH to stop making fun of Dad. More so if he wants the same privileges from his daughters.
I know this is a little late in the day, but it really needs to be said.... WFH is a huge pain. Only one spouse should WFH in the interest of world peace and harmony. It should be legislated and a bill passed in parliament to that effect.
There should be guidelines for WFH.
And online schooling in the same timeframe doesn't help either. 3 people setting up for classes/meetings/calls at the same time........
As no one is stepping out of the front door, I don't see the need to wake up before dawn to get things done. The complaints start....
> Do you HAVE to use the pressure cooker?
Yes I do.
> Why can't you finish grinding before I start my call?
Put up your schedule on the fridge.
> Can't you switch off the washing machine?
Sure I can. Get up early and get ready before 7. That way the cycle finishes before 8.
With 2 family weddings coming up soon, i am super excited. Haven’t attended a wedding in 2 years. And preps are on in full swing. Air out sarees that haven’t seen sunlight in a while and get set for the family fun.
Then I make this huge discovery.
The sarees are fine, but …
The tops! I give thanks for every one that goes on without pulmonary and abdominal calesthenics.
It is observed that lack of sunlight on seams of fitted apparel of non-stretch fabric causes the fabric to shrink. This affects apparel made of natural fibre that lack elasticity.
Clothing made of natural & manmade fibres that are elastic in nature seem exempt from this phenomenon. Cotton, linen, silk & denim have shown this tendency to shrink around the seams. This seems to be especially evident when the apparel has not been exposed to sunlight for ages.
I remembered reading somewhere, a long time ago, that Netaji's ashes were kept at some temple in Tokyo. @ArunKrishnan_ and I wanted to visit that place to pay our respects.
Tokyo isn't exactly down the road from this neck of the woods.
Once we decided that we couldn't leave Japan without seeing some Sumo, we made up our minds that we should see Netaji's memorial too.
"Find out where it is," OH said, "and we'll go there this time."
I tried to do this the easiest way possible. I called the Indian Embassy.
The reply I got there has to be preserved for all posterity. On asking where in Tokyo Netaji's ashes were, I was given this answer:
"You can ask the Japan Tourist office."
That was such an undeniably intelligent answer. I mean, I should have thought of it myself.
@ArunKrishnan_ and I like to think we have it easy when it comes to languages. Between us, we have a decent repertoire. Some are easy, some are challenging, but we manage to understand basics and make ourselves understood.
Some languages have us beaten hollow.
The biggest challenge is Teenspeak.
Teens say the darn'dest things.
When my older teen got her phone, there was some text exchange, and she replies ‘idk’ what on earth was that? I had to call her to find out. I really didnt know.
Another time her friends were discussing parents
Parents were being classified as salty, cool and lit. Linguistically, I couldn’t make out which one was comparative and which superlative.
Kid#2 periodically asks why I’m being salty. The other half asked her what she meant. ‘Duh.. she’s being salty, of course!’ says the brat.
Disclaimer: This post may contain information that is unsuitable for persons with no sense of humor or irrational epicurean beliefs. The opinions expressed herein are not necessarily those of my family and friends, not necessarily mine, and probably not at all necessary.
Today’s post is likely to be touchy and uncomfortable. I will express my views on colour. I will put forth my views on white-ness .... of idlis
Early this morning I came across A friend’s comments on vegetable infused idli batter.
Not that there’s anything wrong with it, as Seinfeld would say, but idli has to be fluffy... and white! Compare it with another southern staple, the dhoti/veshti/panche/mundu.... you can have it any shade, but for real swag and style, it needs to be sparkling white.