This is just a little FYI, a heads up, a snippet of information about me, and my Achilles Heal of the world of alcoholic beverages. If we by some random twist of fate ever meet and say, go out for a bit of a drink and a laugh, please do not buy me rum. Rum treats me like cheap red wine treats teenage girls. And the worst thing is I know it does this to me and that’s why I don’t drink it. And I don’t even really like it. But being so close to the Queensland border it is almost forced upon you everywhere you go. Anyway, if you are cunning you may have the skills to sneak one in to me after I have had a few beers. A rum that is, not a dirty backdoor ahem… ahem. But either way, it’s going to be the end of my night. And if you are not so cunning, but you are cunninglingus, then you are clearly in the wrong story.

My birthday was yesterday, or the day before that, or even the day before that, but I’m pretty sure I spent that day contemplating my lack of mental capacity and drinking lemonade for my breakfast and lunch. Dinner was leftovers and I am certainly losing relevance.

awesomeness

So this was my birthday feast. Soft focus so you can truly get the sense of being there.

Queenie and the chickens, beef sausages, chorizo, tamallis, grilled bread, potatoes and beetroot in the coals

the book that inspired Jennee’s work

 

Jennee made heaps of good food from this book (Which is a great book if you are a fan of the BBQ. FYI #2), all sorts of salsas and salads and good shit, Queenie cooked the barby and, to the young, socially inapt group of Amish children who did a fantastic little dance with some ribbons and shit, good on you. These guys were all legends and I think I wanted to thank them all for their efforts in this post, so here goes…

Thanks guys xo

I think that’s about all I have to offer blog land today.