Monday 23 September 2013

So....I Went Flippin' Apple Pickin'!

03:08

I can practically hear the streets of Catford and Penge where I spent my childhood and adolescence crying either with laughter or with sorrow. Kmt.

Go ahead. Revoke my Oyster! Take away my ballet flats and just give me a pair of wellies.

I'm turning into some nature loving farm girl out here! Apparently Aleksey Vayner was right - Impossible Is Nothing.

I VOLUNTARILY took my two foot and walked my good-good sneakers (oh yeah, even my vocab has been poisoned) in the mud- YES, you heard - and went and picked apples off literal, physical trees instead of a supermarket shelf. I even ate some without washing them. Was even out in the rain, no hood or hat.

If there is a black girl/person reading this you know that this just got REAL if my headpiece is out in the rain and I don't care and I'm just eating nature with no suspicion!

Tbf though it was like spitting/drizzling so I could firm it.

My backside even road in the back of a tractor like a BADMAN!

I'll just admit it. I had fun dammit. I don't even care.

Now, I don't know Ima consume what is approximately a JD Sports bag full of big booty lookin apples (as you can see, my measurements and approximations still remain firmly in Londonese).

But it looks like Ima have to resort to making apple tarts, gallettes (Oh My LIFE! Google these sexy creations and get you soooooome! They're like oatmeal cake/cookies with apple chunks, these and a cuppa-cha with Close The Door playing in the back on a cold winter's day would be enough to get me comatosely relaxed). Go ahead, press play, listen and feel the vibe while I continue to type.

Recipe ideas me and Le Bonne Gang (what me, my flatmate Dan, Aimee and Joe who live 1/2 hour away, have dubbed ourselves because we're just sick like that) have come up with includes crumble and ofc candied apples - a necessary activity in support of Fall and Halloween festivities obviously.

On that note, I'd like to add.

The struggle is REAL. I'm fighting a losing battle against the chubb it seems.

Between apple cakes, beaver tails, waffles, pecan pie and ice cream, peanut butter cheesecake and whatever else we usually consume when the Gang is ensemble, I don't stand a chance. My only comfort so far is that Joe eats as much as I do and enjoys all the bad stuff with me, always one I can count on to get chunky with me lol. But alas as I'm not 6 foot whatever and don't have the same levels of testosterone (thankfully ofc) or whatever the scientific explanation is, I will just remain short and heavy loool. #BLEAK #PEAK #BADTIMES and whatever other hashtags can mock the hopelessness of my affliction.

BUT.

In the spirit of going crazy and doing things I never would, I am going gym hunting this week. Putting a stop to the madness aka making sure I get my money's worth out of the Old Navy gym gear I actually allowed myself to spend money on.

So far in the Battle of the Chubb or the Chubby Wars, Canada is winning, but its only month 1/9 so game on....

Note to self - post about the failed night out in Ottawa, how I evaporated my first pay in 3 days and how some of my pupils clearly don't rate my life (y'all can take this as a coming soon announcement lol).

I'll end with another shock. Everyone that knows me or is afro caribbean themselves know that we do not consider or even use the word picnic in the same way as everyone else. There will always and forever be hot food, meat, rice etc, otherwise we're not involved. Well today I even had a quebecois picnic with the family we live with (they invited us apple picking in the first place - please, you thought I'd go of my own volition? Baby, no).

See that plate. No. Hot. Food. Involved.

And it was actually banging! These people can cook some food!! Being in Yes Man mode has its benefits lol. Anyway, I'm gonna get ready for school tomorrow so laters!