God might be German....

Boarding

Mueller has just scored a hat trick against Portugal; someone named Pepe is out of the next game; Thomas won the golf both yesterday and today. Martin Kaymer won the US open; an orgy of facts about nautical miles and longitude and wind speed came showering down through the PA system like manna from heaven; a salve to Teutons of all ages. (From Turkey’s mouth to the captains ears).

As if that weren’t enough, the frozen yogurt machine is now churning out a mixture of chocolate and vanilla that is so symmetrical as to make cholesterol watchers weep. Seriously, we have not seen the machines work this well since 04.

Here is what we know:
We are a healthy 1800 nautical miles from Bishop’s rock and dreaded land.
Winds are 25 knots, which translates to Force 6.
Last night while we slept they were gale force, which is force 8 (We miss everything!!)
The Beaufort scale is named for admiral Beaufort and is a scale from 0-12; calm to hurricane. His scale of wind and wave height has been in use since the Royal navy adopted it in the mid 19^th century.
We are now in the Great Circle Track, which is the shortest distance between two points on the globe. But because it is so far north it’s too risky with the icebergs to go before now.
On the Bridge a couple named Mr and Mrs Rorke were asked to sound the ships horn. They are on their way back to England after their boat/HOME sank in the middle of the Atlantic. They lost everything but their lives and their Jack Russell terrier; this will be the first time they have seen their family since the tragedy. Now you cannot dangle a story like that in front of my mother and me and not expect us the clamor for more. I intend to find them before land. In the meantime you can google the story-it’s something.
As I am sure you are all aware, today is Lester from the next table’s 94^th birthday. My mother is very excited. She also thinks they are from New York and only winter in Florida because her friends do that; even though they keep saying they live year round in Miami.  “It’s so nice to have a bit of both don’t you think?”
In order to fit it all in, I have decided to focus on the major food groups only (vodka, crepes suzette and tea sandwiches). Actually today I am not going to imbibe at all because I need to get cracking on the chocolates that are piling up in the room and we have found that wine and truly enormous amount of sugar do not lend oneself to a good sleep. It’s screwing up my naps.  (This ship is all about prioritizing and planning). Nap vs. hot tub; vodka vs. wine; tea vs. large lunch. You can’t have it all.
F went to a movie last night and missed the crepes. At breakfast he resembled a small crack head in the early stages of withdrawal. HT (handsome Turk) materialized at the table with notebook preparing to take the crepes count for tonight. I half jokingly said: no more crepes! And F, in something between a screech and a shriek said:
“DON’T I GET ANY CREPES???!!!!!”.  HT asked him politely if he watched the football game: NO!!!!!
A quick review of the recipe might be in order here: coat a copper pan deep with sugar; then add butter; lemon juice; orange zest; and a lot of booze. Don’t be shy about the booze: loosen the wrist. People are watching.
Douse crepes in this mixture. Put vanilla ice cream on the side.
I have always breezed off the alcohol aspect of this with the comforting and totally unscientific assurance of the booze being “burned off”. But is it really? I mean the fervor these things inspire; it’s well beyond the loyalty to a chocolate donut. I tried to share one with my mother and she stabbed at me with her fork. Thomas has stopped mentioning cholesterol. The children we have invited on board have opted to miss movies, video games, soccer matches, anything that might make them miss the crepes. I can’t think of what it could be unless alcohol and sugar hold some kind of appeal.

 

Dressing room selfie before blow dry

Captured by paparazzi