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Barmy Blue's Bland Blog

Part Three: Something About Biscuits and the Universe

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Alternative title: The Fountain of Doom

The little chocolate fountain is something of a tradition. It amused us every year maybe in a similar way to the way the paper amused the baby. It’s something different that you can marvel at, is only for a few seconds.
In recent years the fountain has been struggling. My uncle had over or under cooked the chocolate and last year it didn’t flow very well at all. I tried to get it to work with my chocolate expertise, agitate (stir) the chocolate so it melts better, but it had little to no effect. We’ve known that the fountain was on it’s way out for the past couple of years. This year I found the baby far more interesting than watching the fountain come out, so I was barely paying attention to it. That is until I heard a noise then startled gasps and looked over just in time to see lumps of chocolate go flying.
Have you seen the video of the hippo at the zoo that wags it’s tail while pooping like a hippo poo sprinkler? That’s what it made me think of. Mum was sat right next to it but leapt out of the way just in time (which is quite a feat for a 63 year old, overweight woman with a touch of sciatica).
She explained that she saw it was moving funny at the top (where the chocolate comes out) and that it was wobbling and didn’t look right and she thought something was going to happen. So I guess she was braced for it. She was quick enough that none got on her. It didn’t get on anyone else either but it did get on the carpet, cupboard and table. My first thought was where’s Rosie? (because chocolate is bad for dogs.) And my second was, the baby. Because of the noise the adults made (I wouldn’t call it a scream but it was more than a gasp. That kind of loud ah! or oh! that people do when startled) he looked confused and scared. I can’t be sure if he was scared. But I figured it was safe to assume that he was. The adult’s initial shock passed instantly and was replaced with humour. But the baby had no way of understanding that and that there was nothing to be afraid of. I also felt that when startled, a baby will want it’s mother, I wasn’t confident that I, a stranger, could comfort him, so quickly pointed out to my cousin, he’s scared. And she turned her attention back to the baby and reassured him.
He didn’t actually cry. He barely made a sound. But I worried that he might cry or at least feel afraid. Even if the hadn’t had a confused/scared expression I’d still have worried.
I know. I overthink everything. But that’s not always a bad thing. I’d say that my guess about how the baby felt at that moment was accurate and that telling his mother so she could calm him was the right and best thing to do in that moment. I doubt being a little startled will have any effect on the baby at all, or on the bond he has with his mother, but since I think babies constantly live in the present, because I doubt they can perceive things any other way, then this was good.

So. There was no fountain this year and now the fountain will be permanently retired. My uncle was unhappy about the waste of money. That was a special chocolate fountain mixture from Thorntons. Expensive for chocolate. It wasn’t a new thing, he used that kind of chocolate every year. It’s just that this year the fountain couldn’t go on any more. He considers that maybe it was the wrong consistency, maybe he over cooked it.

In the absence of a chocolate fountain I rather hoped my biscuits would come out.
You know I notice things, mainly because I struggle to interact with others, so tend to look around at things more.
Earlier I spied my uncle’s wife emptying the biscuits out of my tin (it’s quite a big cumbersome tin, but at the time I got it, it was the only one available, so that’s why I use it) and into a plastic food bag. I did wonder why. Why not just leave them in the tin of put them on a plate? Well. My biscuits never came out. I was very disappointed. I made them the night before and took all of them, save for the few that I ate that night, mum had one or two too. She’s not really into sweets though. I also noticed that as she transferred them to the bag, my uncle’s wife was eating one. I felt pleased that at least someone had eaten one but I also worried, since she was trying to cut down on sweets. No one else was in a position to see, only me. I thought about my biscuit tin almost constantly. I had to remember to get it back. I’m an only child. I’ve never been good at sharing. You can have my biscuits. I made them for everyone anyway. But you will not have my biscuit tin. It’s mine.

Like I said. The biscuits never came out. No one noticed. No one pointed out that I usually bring something, so I didn’t bring it up. Did they just forget that they had my biscuits, or did they think that I’d brought the biscuits just for them as a gift? Well, either thought was better than my recurring one. They’re deliberately keeping my biscuits from everyone else. Can’t be sure why but it’s deliberate, to spite me. I doubt that was the case.

In place of the fountain, when no one was looking in my direction (mainly because I’d feel too self conscious if they were) I moved the box of Ferrero Rocher onto the table. It was to the side before, a bit out of the way. Maybe the others didn’t realise they’d been put out for today and that they were usually there. I moved them onto the table so people would feel more comfortable taking them, and decided to try and arrange them in a bit of a pyramid shape to be more inviting. It worked. By the end there were only a couple left.

My uncle’s wife did say that she really liked them, but of course couldn’t have them because of her blood sugar, so I did wonder if they’d put them to the side in the hopes that no one would take them. Surely not. It’s just because there was no room on the table. Besides. They expressly told us that they’d put them out for the family. So I mad damned sure the family had them. It was the best outcome for all really.

When the teas and coffees were served, my uncle explained the correct wat to hold a hot mug (by spreading your fingers around the rim) that way you don’t burn yourself but still have a good grip. I was unsure of that myself. What about the hot steam coming up and straight onto your palm? I didn’t question it, he wasn’t actually talking to me anyway and I never drink hot drinks, everyone knows that by now. However, he was proven wrong when he reached for his mug and ended up spilling some of his coffee on the floor. His wife was not pleased.

We took a family picture. I used the laser pointer to try and get the baby to look in the right direction but in the end he didn’t focus on it, despite his mother’s best efforts. Never mind.
Also, I forgot to mention, one of my other cousins gave me a calendar. Well, two but they were the same calendar, don’t think he realised that at the time. They’re for 2016 so only apply for a couple of months but he knows that I’ve cut out the pictures of old calendars to decorate my room. Someone he knew had them and wanted rid and he thought of me, which was very nice of him. Not sure what I’ll do with the second one but never mind.

Eventually everyone started leaving and the baby started falling asleep. Rosie got seeds all in her fur so I occupied myself picking them out. She had a lot. I’m actually quite happy to do it. It gives me something to do since I don’t talk much and I feel more confident with dogs since I have my own. I know that I can be a little rough with Rosie and, even though she has tiny legs like chicken drumsticks, she won’t break. I can be very rough with Yuki because she’s a big dog.
I wanted Rosie to lay on her side so I could get at the seeds. She was resistant but I gently pushed her and she went down obediently and stayed, and did the same for the other side.
The family said don’t worry, so-and-so will brush her when we get home, like this was an inconvenience to me. If I didn’t want to do it I wouldn’t. I’m pretty OCPD so I find it very relaxing. Also I like to remember that primates bond by grooming, and no matter how evolved humans are still primates.

We were last to leave, only just. My uncle offered to let us meet the cat. So I regained hope that I might use the laser pointer on him. I did try it with Rosie but she barely looked at it. The cat was very sweet and soft. But he was far more interested in being fed than a laser pointer. Oh well. I wasn’t disappointed because it had received a lot of us entertaining the baby, which was unexpected.
I made sure to get my tin back but tried to make it seem like I’d just remembered in the nick of time rather than thinking about it constantly.

I was annoyed about the biscuits but it really doesn’t matter in the end. The most important thing it that I finally got to meet the baby and everything was good.
It’s one of those days where everything just feels like it clicks into place and you know that you can handle everything even if it goes wrong, as if you’re somehow in sync with the universe. I rarely feel like that but it’s nice when I do. Maybe it’s just because of my obsessive personality that I think of multiple situations and if they’re bad how I should handle them. Who knows.
It’s late and I’m betting this covers three posts.
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