Your Majesty

Tonight's study, only one week prior to the dreaded exam, was based largely on reading the chapters of The Book devoted to stuff that I already know or take for granted like upselling, correct service procedures etc.

This is a major part of the second exam, but having done it for years now I am quietly confident of this bit. However, I was completly unprepared when I came to the section "Some Correct forms of Address". I was expecting a little ettiquette such as Sir, Ma'am etc, the usual thing you learn to do in your first week. I was struck a little aghast at the correct way to address THE QUEEN, or ROYAL PRINCES AND PRINCESSES.

Firtly, I'm pretty sure that if I'm ever called upon to serve the queen or recommend her a nice wine, that I would have passed a lot more tests than this one.

Second, I'm fairly confident that I will never come face to face with either the queen or anyone called prince or princess.

Third, I'm certain that if I were ever in this position, I would be struck speechless and just point. And maybe mumble a 'bwer' 'um um um um blah', and maybe pour something in her glass (hopefully something drinkable and potable, not just the water from the flower vase).

However, it has made me think about what kind of wine I'd recommend to the queen (most certinly something fruity, or sweet, given her age, what a sad generalisation - although, she stikes me as being someone who'd drink scotch - neat). And what I'd pour myself afterward to drink (much harder).

Afterall, she's lived through years and years of vintages, many of which would be crap, some amazing. Wine has been dirty and minimalist (because they were basic and didn't know any better and would lock up the chai for their summer holidays and leave their wine to just ferment and do its thing), to the revolution of the modern squeaky clean dry wines, with plenty of new oak and oozing flavour, and now the minimalise gravity approach with lots of unfiltered and non intervention but with cultured yeasts that make wine making so much easier, that dont taste like cultured yeasts (designed to be deceptively , but with a design, uncultured culture) it all must have come as bit of a shock to her over time (if she reflected at all, I'm sure it was all a bit subtle over the years).

She must have the most amazing wines tucked away in her cellar. I wonder is its all scary function wine, or if she has some real gems.

It would all be a bit weird having to do it at all (serve the queen), let alone call her something while doing it.

I will be very pleased if it turns up on next week's exam in the mutiple choice section as I have now studied it:
What is the correct way to address the queen?
a) yoohoo
b) oy
c) ma'am or your majesty
d) excuse me deary, would you like another glass?

Wise Words

Three kraters (bowls used for wine) do I mix for the temperate:
One to health, which they empty first
The second to love and pleasure
The third to sleep
When this bowl is drunk up, wise guests go home
The fourth bowl is ours no longer but belongs to hubris
The fifth to uproar
The sixth the prancing about
The seventh to black eyes
The eight brings the police
The ninth belongs to vomiting
And the tenth to insanity and hurling of furniture

Eubulus C4th BC

A little amusement I have come across in my study...

This little piggy went to market

This is a pic of some of our adorable farm animals at work in the kids nursery.

On Saturday it was such a nice day, the sun was out, it was a silly 29 degrees in July. Lately we've had these great sunny weekend days, and on Tuesdays and Wednesdays it rains. The rain cycle was like this in Victoria when I was going to uni. It would be lovely all week and then pour rain for both my days off. It was so regular that if you didn't know what day it was, you could work it out by the rain.
Its been cold and overcast here on my days off for about 8 weeks now. Because its winter is rarely rains here, which I miss, being the opposite to Victoria. At least when its cold and it rains you feel justified spending the whole day in front of the fire.
Anyway, the point is, it feels like years since we've had a good sunny day off. The Markets were on at Fernvale and all the locals say that they are the best markets around. We promptly arranged days off and invited Sue, one of our work friends.

The next morning we met at nine o'clock, very late in the market going world, and drove to the markets, about 40 minutes away. The town is just a small place on the other side of the highway, hidden past a bunch of winding country roads and long stretches of farming flats, all bright greenn with winter vegetables.

I had been warned that it was the type of market you could buy anything, and the girls at work all wanted me to buy a pig. There has been a trend amongst the 'imports' - the staff who have moved here from somewhere else. Without fail, everyone ends up a little 'countrified', or in the case of our FOM, owning 2 ducks, 2 chooks, 2 goats, 2 kitties and 2 rats within his first month of moving to the country and is always seen carrying the trading post animal section.
I was not sure what I would come home with.

At the market, the first thing we noticed was the dogs. There was a guy selling puppies at the front gate. Everyone in the market had a dog, it was like a compulsory accessory, like an environmental shopping bag. Actual there were alot more dogs there than eco friendly bags. The dogs were big and small, some miniature and just a few weeks old. I looked in one baby pram and expected to see some cute baby wrapped up there, but it was a dog, looking through the sun shade gauze. There were 3 different places selling dogs, so if you'd made a mistake and come to the market with your eco bag, you could trade it in for a dog.

The next thing we noticed was the number of ladies in kaftans, yes, kaftans. Big old orange ones with Indian designs. Now I've not got anything against a kaftan, but it was almost like Mr X had said to his wife that morning 'put on your kaftan love, we're going to the market and theres a dress code'.

Anyway, what did they actaully sell at the market? There was licorice, lots of vegies shops and a man selling strawberries faster than Maccas churns out hamburgers. There was also the customary junk shops, plant sales and a man selling old engagement rings. Sue stopped to talk to a friend, who had a toilet tank tucked under her arm. The kitchen sink store was also doing a roaring trade.

What did I buy? Some incence (naturally, it is the market and the lady who sold it to me couldn't add up so I got it ridiculously cheap), some pistachios and some strawberries, which I enjoyed later that night with some honey mead (to marinate the strawberries for an hour), served on top of crushed meringues, with some hoboken crunch ice cream.

There were no pigs for sale, which I very much regretted, and decided that we must have arrived too late and all the pigs were sold out and only dogs were left.