It’s February. FEBRUARY. How in the world did that even happen?
Actually, no, I take that question back, because I’m pretty sure that every single year pans out this way. January always seems to start off incredibly slow. Each day feels endlessly long and it’s downright glorious because you feel as though you have all the time in the world.
Then, January 15th hits and all hell breaks loose. The next thing you know it’s February first, and the moment you blink, boom, it’s June.
This is how it works.
Last weekend was Surprise Date Night weekend. Finally. For two months I had to endure and ignore Randy’s endless teasing. It was kind of fun though because it seemed like my blah, lacklustre attitude drove him a tiny bit crazy. He teased. I teased. It was all a big tease.
The funniest part in all of this is that I managed to properly guess our Secret Date Nigh activity without any hints. The little I did know, and the little info Meg was able to draw from Erik, confirmed my random hunch. I am Detective Extraordinaire and lucky for me, being a skilled detective is exactly what I needed for Secret Date Night.
Many moons ago, after our self-hosted Murder Mystery night, we talked about doing a “proper” one out in the wild somewhere. I had looked up a number of places that hosted them, but we never really moved on actually attending one.
Enter my initial Secret Date Night hunch, and my ultimate ruining of the secret part of Secret Date Night. I really excel at ruining secrets. I’m not sure if I should be proud or disappointed.
We wined and dined with the Mysterious Players at Aberfoyle Mill. After reading a terribly disappointing review of the show on TripAdvisor, I was wary, expecting terrible wait staff service and awful actors.
Fear not! The night was fun! Sure, by the end, our server was kind enough to disappear, leaving us to hunt down another so that we could, you know, actually pay for the evening, but the rest was enjoyable.
I awkwardly began the night by requesting “something cheap” when asking our server for a glass of wine. We kept that momentum going by absolutely confusing the actors whenever they came to our table to chit chat. The one fella just had no idea what we were on about, and frankly, neither did we, I think.
The food was really great, albeit, borderline too much. Five courses when you’re not used to eating so much in one sitting is a bit of a belly stretcher. I didn’t even eat that much over the holidays. I just couldn’t stop though. My stomach was shouting no, while the chicken on my plate shouted yes in every language.
Gosh. I’m hungry. Is it lunch time yet?
The BEST part? I GUESSED THE MURDERER, METHOD AND MOTIVE! You have NO idea how proud I am. Out of the four of us, I was the last person to fill out my form and submit it. Everyone teased me, including the actors – “Is she a novelist, or is she a bit slow?” – but I GUESSED CORRECTLY.
I glowed like a five year after eating an entire cake. I was given a Certificate of Wit and everything. You best believe that certificate is being proudly displayed on my fridge right now. I am PROUD. I am so USELESSLY PROUD.
I was one of three people to guess correctly that night. The other two people? The murderer, herself (eye roll) and the lady sitting beside her (eye roll again). I smell fishy business.
The rest of the weekend? Well, the rest of the weekend didn’t even compare.
Hair cuts. Big pots of chili. Oh, and something ridiculous like sixty cinnamon buns.
Don’t ever prepare the “big batch” recipe of cinnamon rolls unless you’re prepared to spend most of your day in the kitchen making batch after batch of cinnamon rolls. I felt deceived. Despite the name, the recipe went on to say that I would split the dough in half and make two rolls. TWO ROLLS.
I made FOUR. The dough just kept rising, resulting in me splitting it into quarters rather than halves. I suppose it helps that I wasn’t able to prepare everything at once, giving the dough all that time to rise, but never mind that.
On the plus side, we have about 30 cinnamon buns in our freezer ready for last minute cinnamon bun eating. Who wants to come over and have a treat with me?