Bare Naked Ladies

Sorry it's been so long, I've been terribly busy. A swollen ITB is keeping me from running, but otherwise life is fab.

What with it being Vic's b'day party lately we have had several cocktails and I have cracked the art of Manhatten making: mostly whiskey, a dash of vermouth (I prefer Rosso) and a dribble of the juice from the jar you spooned your maraschineo cherry from. It's the only fruit I get most days ;-)>

Anyway, Carmen and I were sat on the sofa drinking away our rough days with a pair of these creations when I considered the name. A Manhattan is the name of this divine creation when one employs American sour mash bourbon. Such a concoction built on Scotch (and I haven't yet brought myself to lavish my Bowmore on one!) is called a Rob Roy. We are using a bottle of Canadian whiskey, so we thought we needed a suitable Canadian name. Having rapidly dismissed 'the Celine Dion' and 'the Bryan Adams' we settled on the sublime, the delightful 'Bare Naked Lady.' Fun, frolicsome and a guaranteed good time! Perfect. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Brian Wilson wouldn't have enjoyed a few, lying in bed...


I promise I'll post more soon about V's Birthday adventures; our trip to the Hutterite (modern Ahmish-ish), a day at the water park inside the world's second largest mall and my visit to a rural primary school, not to mention our wonderful James Bond themed murder mystery party at which V was Dr Yes and I was Hugh Onlee-Livtwice! Many a martini sunk there, shaken , not stirred. It's much easier to blog now that I've set up the wireless system and can do it like this with a tipple on the sofa.

Ciao for now,

R