Best friends, Daleks and ridiculous keys

Previously: I got stuck in a toilet cubicle, went to a shit ton of boring classes, found the world's biggest fork, and ate too many cupcakes for my own good.

So we finished up the tour on Saturday evening. And I was up at stupid o'clock on Sunday morning, because my shuttle to the airport was picking me up between (and I quote from my booking slip) 6.59am and 7.14am. Thankfully it wasn't 6.59, because I was still shoving things into my suitcase and endeavouring to brush my teeth without getting toothpaste all down my shirt and saying goodbye to Agatha Goodkin.

Thankfully, I got downstairs in time to make my shuttle, and got to the airport without any problems. Check in took about five minutes, which made me wish I'd booked my shuttle for half an hour later, and I headed downstairs to clear security. That involved waiting in the queue for about ten minutes, and when I got to the front of the line, the guy checked my ID and scribbled all over my boarding pass, and then announced that I was about to clear security for the wrong section of the airport:
Me: Oh. Um. Okay???
TSA guy: Your plane is leaving from gate 24. You're clearing security for gates 28 through 36.
Me: Oh. So where do I...
TSA guy: Security for those gates is just down the other end of the terminal.
Me: Oh, okay! [turns to head down there]
TSA guy: Where are you going?!
Me: ...To the other security checkpoint?
TSA guy: But you can just go through here and take the shuttle.
Me: O...kay?
TSA guy: There's a shuttle right by gate 28.
Me: Um. Thanks?
TSA guy: I mean, you can go down to the other gate if you want.
Me: I can?
TSA guy: But the shuttle's, like, right here. So.......
Me: I'll just go through here, shall I?
TSA guy: Good choice. Have a nice flight!

So I eventually cleared security with a nice dose of added "WTF I'M SO CONFUSED". And then I took the shuttle across to where I was supposed to be. Aaaaaaaand then I had the better part of three hours to kill before my flight. Thankfully, Reagan has free wifi. WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Unfortunately, there was a massive school group on my flight. Fortunately, the flight was only 2 hours long. And then I was in Orlando, where the airport was bizarrely filled with miniature gymnasts cartwheeling all over the place. The lovely Alice came and picked me up from the airport, and we headed to lunch at Graffiti Junktion, which Alice had informed me had fries that were so delicious "they must have been dipped in crack". I have to agree - the fries were amazing.

After we'd stuffed ourselves on deliciousness, we headed over to Team!friend's house, and from there to see Les Miserables. AGAIN, in my case. It was as brilliant as the first time, plus the movie theatre had lights that looked like Daleks were coming out of the walls. See??

After the movie, Alice drove me clear across town to my delightful $30 a night motel, with a stop along the way at Walgreens, where I spent ten minutes staring at the cold and flu tablets in a brain dead fashion, and bought a giant can of Pringles and a box of Junior Mints. Because of reasons. Don't judge me.

Upon checking into the motel, I was presented with a bizarre and perplexing device. Namely, this:

This was the key to my room, and it's like the love child of an electronic keycard and a World War II code breaking machine...

Anyway, Alice had to work the next day, so she left me to dope myself up on cold and flu tablets and eat chocolate. My BFF Sara and her friend Julia had arrived in Florida from London two days earlier, and had spent the day at Disneyworld. Sara had emailed me the day before to say that they were planning on staying at the park until closing, but after Alice left, I figured I'd drag out my computer and use the motel's free wifi to see if there was any word. Which was about the point where I discovered that the motel's free wifi only worked in the lobby. HOW CONVENIENT.

So I trekked down there and stood awkwardly in the corner because pretty much every other person staying at the motel was ALSO in the lobby using the internet at that particular moment. Thankfully, there was an email from Sara saying that they'd been too tired to stay at the park until closing and were back already. So I headed up to their room, and our reunion went pretty much like this:

And the rest of the evening passed in ridiculous television, catching up, eating Pringles, and exchanging rather belated Christmas presents. (Incidentally, I don't think I ever told you guys about my most brilliant Christmas present from Sara? THIS. Isn't it brilliant?! )

The following day, we had a buffet breakfast at a restaurant up the street from the motel and then hopped in the car for a two and a bit hour drive up to St. Augustine. On the way, we discovered that there is pretty much one radio station in the whole of the Orlando area, and that said radio station had about six songs to their name. One of which was Taylor Swift's "I Knew You Were Trouble". Which got very old very quickly (and was sadly lacking in screaming goats)...

Anyway, it was Martin Luther King Jr. Day, so the admission cost at the fort was waived. It wasn't the most fascinating thing ever, but it was free, and it kept us occupied for a while. Plus, there were pretty views! 

We walked around the town for an hour or so, and ended up at what we deemed the most important thing on the map given to us by the tourist information centre - the fudge shop. As we'd not had lunch, Sara and Julia got ice creams, while I was so intrigued about the fact that a milkshake cost $7 that I had to order one. What goes in a $7 milkshake? Five scoops of chocolate ice cream, chocolate syrup, a glass of milk, and a terrifying amount of whipped cream. It was the most amazing milkshake of EVER. 

After a sugar revival, we piled back into the car and drove to another couple of attractions - namely the Fountain of Youth and the local lighthouse - but were too cheap to pay to go into them. So instead, we took photos from the outside and then drove the two and a bit hours back to Orlando. 

Next up, manatees, tacky souvenirs and a trip to a zoo that featured a ridiculous Australian section. 

K xx

Mmmm, fudge...

First of all, the lovely Lissa held a giveaway over Christmas and New Year in which you could win a free copy of one of her books. And I won! SO EXCITING!! I can't wait to start reading - just as soon as I finish Pride and Prejudice and Zombies ;)

I wasn't originally planning on posting the recipe I used to make fudge as Christmas presents for pretty much everyone I know, because it's really freaking simple. Plus, you can find a million and one recipes for fudge elsewhere online. But Little Miss A helped me make it. And she remembered that when we were making jam, I kept stopping to take photos. And she insisted that I take photos again "so the people can see them!" #bloggerinthemaking

So here it is (for the Jaffa version, at least)! And I apologise in advance for some of the photos. That's what happens when you have a six year old sitting next to you asking if she can a) taste every single ingredient, and b) take a photo of each step as well...

The cast of characters:

Start by dumping the contents of a 400mL tin of sweetened condensed milk into a saucepan.

Then take 1 cup of dark chocolate melts (or regular chocolate, if you want):

And chop them up:

Take 2 cups of milk chocolate melts (or regular chocolate) and do the same:

Try desperately not to just eat it all. Put the whole lot on the stove over low heat, and stir until smooth:

Taken by Little Miss A. Not bad, really! 

Add 1 teaspoon of orange essence. Or more if you like it really orangey:

Pour it into a lined 20cm square tin:

Again, taken by Little Miss A

And flatten it out.

Then take a handful of Jaffas. I have no idea if you can get anything vaguely similar to Jaffas in North America or Europe. Find some kind of orange flavoured candy if you can't. (Also? I really want to go to Dunedin during the Cadbury Chocolate Festival to watch them roll Jaffas down the world's steepest street now. Because OHMIGOD AMAZING.) Shove said Jaffas into a ziplock bag:

And bash them with a rolling pin:

Then pour the Jaffas over the top of the fudge and press them down lightly:

Put the whole lot in the fridge for at least two hours, then chop it into bite sized pieces (I cut it into 36 pieces), and completely forget to take photos of the finished product because you're a numpty your brother and ten of his mates are outside asking repeatedly when they can have fudge. It was pretty damned good. As evidenced by the fact that there was one piece left by the time the guys had left!

And if you're not a huge fan of choc orange flavoured stuff, you can replace the orange essence with peppermint essence, and the Jaffas with smashed up candy cane, and you end up with this:

Also delicious. Although after a little while, the candy cane starts to go squishy... Which is fine, because it means it doesn't get stuck in your teeth!

So there you have it - it's quick and simple and totally delicious. You can make it in any number of ways, and it's cheap to make. It's pretty much the perfect recipe!

Did anyone else go crazy with the fudge making over Christmas? Also, who wants to come to Dunedin and watch 30,000 Jaffas be rolled down a giant hill with me???

K xx

Merry Christmas, y'all!

Contrary to appearances, I'm not actually dead. I've just been more than a little busy with the inevitable Christmas shopping and wrapping and baking and celebrating. We had the first of three family Christmas celebrations last night, and my brother has a bunch of choir friends arriving in about half an hour. (They do this song in choir in which the tenors and the first basses sing all kinds of philosophical stuff about how to be happy. The second basses sing the names of over 80 brands of beer. So they've decided to get together and see how many of the different beers they can try. I foresee messiness...)

Anyway, basically I've been distracted by this:

Candy cane fudge

And this:

Jaffa fudge

And this:

My niece, Little Miss A

I'll be back for Movie Monday, as per usual. Have a wonderful, safe and happy Christmas.

K xx

Colorado - the "apparently banana is a confusing word" edition

I'm currently sitting in a Starbucks in Cambridge, Massachusetts. I had grand plans for doing SOMETHING of interest (even if it was just checking out the TJ Maxx next door to my hotel) with my last day on the east coast, but it's pissing with rain and I don't wanna. Plus, the Starbucks is *attached* to my hotel, so I didn't even have to go outside to get here #lazinessFTW Anyway, due to the rather inclement weather and my epic laziness, I figured I'd kill the two hours until I have to leave for the airport with some kind of blogging activity!

When I last left you, I was embarrassing myself at the baseball in Denver. My trip to Colorado Springs involved me getting free food for being foreign, snow, feeding a giraffe, and Bigfoot. (Let us all pause for a moment to think about just how different that sentence could appear without the use of the Oxford comma. Thank you. #grammarnerd) 

My adventures in the Springs started with a day trip about a week after I arrived in Colorado. We got down there just in time to pick up Megan and head out for lunch to a new restaurant/cafe/thing that sold pretty much nothing but peanut butter and jam sandwiches. #onlyinAmerica I honestly don't think I'd had a peanut butter and jam sandwich since I was at primary school (HI LOR!) in Toronto a millionty years ago. So I was slightly apprehensive about the whole thing, because if I put anything with peanut butter in a sandwich? It's going to be honey. Needless to say, I was kind of thrilled when I found a sandwich that consisted of crunchy peanut butter, honey and fresh strawberries. Technically, it also contained banana. But it's gross, so I asked for it without. Which led to this:

Me: Can I get the [insert name of sandwich here] with no banana?

Serving guy: With no what?

Me: Banana

Serving guy: Ba-what?

Me: BANANA.

Serving guy: Ohhhhh, no BANANA. Sure!

(Okay, that doesn't really work when you type it. Let's just say that I pronounce it 'ba-nah-nah' and Americans pronounce it kind of nasal-y and with a shorter A sound and just generally WRONG...) 

Anyrandomsegue, the sandwich was pretty good, if a little oozy. Once we'd finished our sandwiches, we headed out to some Anasazi cliff dwellings just outside of town. Okay, technically, they're RECREATED cliff dwellings that were moved from somewhere else for some reason that totally escapes me and which I can't look up because the internet keeps crapping out on me #Starbucksfail. But given the choice between seeing cliff dwellings that were 10 minutes from where I was, and driving all the way across Colorado to Mesa Verde, I took the former. 

And hey, it wasn't a total waste because Lyndsy and I wound up buying some fudge. And when I say "some", I mean ONE AND A HALF POUNDS (700g. It doesn't sound nearly as impressive that way). Um. Whoops? (It was delicious) 

After our fudge buying extravaganza trip to the cliff dwellings, we headed over to Garden of the Gods. Holy gorgeous scenery, Batman! (by which I mean the superhero, and not the founder of Melbourne who died of syphilis at the age of 38 and had no nose. Although I'm sure he would have appreciated the scenery too... I'll stop now.) And now is about the point where I mention that if Garden of the Gods was in Australia, you'd probably have to park a 20 minute walk from any of the sites. In America, you have to try and frame your photos in such a way as to cut out the car park because you can pretty much drive up to the base of any attraction...

Ahem. How about I stop talking and show you some moody looking photos of Garden of the Gods to finish?

You're welcome. 

Next up, I find the most hideous special ugg boots of all time. Nice export, Australia... *rolls eyes*

K xx