It was a bit of a lost weekend. I managed to play hooky on friday afternoon, got myself a bottle of merlot and a kebab and went home for peace and relaxation. It is the first weekend in months where I’ve had it totally to myself and wanted to make the most of it. By 8 o’clock having filled my belly I was asleep and was up by 5am. My intention was to get up do my housework and watch TV. I ended up finishing off my gossip girl box set although I did manage to get my laundry in. My phones were on silent so didn’t speak to anyone on Saturday. Most people would find that boring but sometimes you just need a day like that to reflect on life without any distraction.

On Sunday I was half ready to face the world. I reorganized my kitchen, sounds dull but it has become kind of cluttered with stuff. Smother had given her carpenter a deposit to fit my kitchen, I don’t know if they are now planting the trees in which they are now waiting to grow before they chop for wood but it’s been over a month now and I’m still waiting, nevertheless things just keep popping up in the kitchen. Baskets, pots, tea cups, a teapot, containers, and no storage space to put it in, so trust me it kept me nothing if not busy that morning. I called smother to see her itinerary, I was hoping for a last day to myself but she was coming back that day. She used the phonecall to her advantage to complain about my dad. My parents are really something. You could ask how the weather is and somehow they could turn the conversation into a bitchfest about each other. Why haven’t I nipped this in the bud. Simply because when they are in free flow there’s no stopping them and if I were to raise my voice to get heard, they would play the offended card and say I was being rude. It took me 30 minutes and 3 attempts to get off the line before she said goodbye. It is just easier for me to just pretend I’m listening and say “hmmm” every so often.

So after cleaning the kitchen and making the call I decided to cook. I do love cooking, I find it therapeutic but I haven’t really had time to cook and without the proper preparation space I haven’t had the chance to test out my culinary skills. I have to say I make a mean chicken light soup then my tilapia with pepper sauce is a killer, but I have not pounded fufu in my life and if I’m to be honest I am to precious to start now. I loved tilapia with groundrice when I was in london but can’t find it here and I find banku rather heavy but when in rome. Then there is my jollof rice, have to admit, when smother is in high spirits she makes a wicked jollof rice but I don’t think mine is too far behind. What I do love though is to make non-Ghanaian foods, Italian, Thai, Chinese even English (with a Ghanaian touch). My French lady always ribs me that she will come over for some of mummy’s shepherd’s pie, apart from chips or a roast she doesn’t really do English food, but if you do ever fancy some English grub, come and see me. I eat Ghanaian food all the time especially these days so when I cook, it has to be something non-Ghanaian.

Yesterday I did an East meets West dish. I was first thinking of doing a roast but with my oven being electric and the volatility of the electricity especially on a Sunday I settled on Teriakyi noodles with vegetables, chicken sauce and stuffing. You may think the stuffing is weird adage but it went down well. So I ate, watched more gossip girl (I have the 4th season on my hard drive which is the reason I went out to buy seasons 1-3) and had my last few moments of peace before smother arrived at around 5. She didn’t come alone either. Fanti kenkey (I don’t know the credibility of fanti kenkey from the Ashanti region but we shall see), pineapples, bananas all spread across my recently organized kitchen. I helped unload the car and then went back to her room. I could hear her calling my name and a lot of talking but I couldn’t make out the words, but opening the door would be a trap. I would be led into a tirade of opinions, judgements and criticisms. She had already managed to get in one about wanting her children to find nice men and get married that morning, she wasn’t going to have a chance to say more on the topic. So I waited until it all blew over before saying I was going out for a while.

I didn’t go very far, just to my cousin around the corner. It was about time I was around people but people who will not say anything, maybe joke around and then I would go home in peace. I totally forgot that the Ghana match was on, no wonder the area had been more quiet than usual. 120 minutes + all the extra time of bear drama. Now I remembered the main reason why I don’t watch matches, the tension is too much and I would get sucked in, then if they were to lose I would take the disappointment as personal as the rest of the nation. The Tunisians were kind zof brutal, they were also bigger than our boys and were basically bullying them, when they didn’t get their own way, they would take a dive and cry foul, sometimes it would work sometimes it wouldn’t but thankfully when it did work it wasn’t in the penalty area. Ghana managed to get 1 in we jubilated until the Tunisians managed to get their 1 in also. Then it just turned into a crap game. The Tunisians were starting to out play us even though they were not playing fair also. There was a desperate scramble in the 90th minutes to get one more in, but we were all beginning to lose hope. The game went into extra time, then a miracle happened, the Tunisian goal keeper came out of his box allowing Dede Ayew the opportunity to take us through. Now we just needed 20 minutes to hold what we had until the final whistle blew. There were about 7 of us in the house at this time. One of my cousins girlfriends was calling out for Jesus while a friend was just cracking jokes. I’m sure if you were at a spot or house in any part of Ghana a similar scenario would be playing out in that time, poor Dede Ayew was being used as a punching bag by the Tunisians, poor little thing, I’m surprised only one of the players got sent off, there was kicking of chests, headbutting and elbowing, but I guess that’s the difference between African football and that of the West, we also have to remember while most of our players had gone outside to play. Most of the Tunisians are home grown. We got to 120 minutes and they added on 3 extra minutes. They were a very long 3 minutes I tell you. Finally the whistle blew, Ghana have made it through to the semi-finals. Can they get the cup this year, who knows, but I wish them luck. But that’s enough of my attempt at being a football pundit.

This morning I woke up with a migrane, it must be that Monday morning feeling. I went into the bathroom and I could hear someone screaming my name. She was up and telling me my dad’s sister turns 60 this year so my father must be turning 64 this year and not 63 like he tells everyone. I don’t know what I was supposed to do with this information but I said ok. Well who am I to talk, I’m telling everyone I turn 25 this year, which is not humanly possible when my other sisters have just turned 31 and 27. Lol

So now off to start the day, another working week begins, I hope its a good one.