grilled chikn salad can be evil if the chikn is overcooked… 
Dogs work, but then they crap on the golf courses too. Owls are cleaner and pretty winged creatures.
No! Make Death Chicken! (recipe available on request or after I get back from ortho).
Mika --all ways of creepy there. Look out for him when you leave work today and in future–not trying to freak you out, but just be safe. :eek:
And I LOATHE waiting for people. Oh, 10 minutes at a restaurant I’m fine with, because there is parking and traffic etc. But if we are both starting out from the same place/hotel room etc? Git yer ass in gear! :rolleyes:
Car is back from shop–guy says he didn’t hear much of anything. Uh. With the sunroof open, I cannot hear my own radio when I brake. BUT he said that the brakes are safe, so I will wait until next pay period to have the rotors replaced.
Brownies in the oven (I’ve decided to eat chocolate thru my no kitchen time-this is really stressing me more than I bargained for. I am tired and somewhat cranky at the best of times now).
Overcooked chikin? :eek: Unthinkable! :eek:
Death Chikin… sounds so evil! Do tell how to prepare Death Chikin!
Then there’s a house with about a half-acre of property for you in Deep Creek. It’s on Canal Drive.
Is this a whoosh, or a serious heads up?
As a heart attack. I drive by it at least five times a week. I’ll see if the sign is still up with the realtor’s phone number on it on the way home today and drop you an email with it. But the place looks a bit on the handyman’s special side (of the tracks).
See Spats, that’s a good pun.
:: sniff…snifff ::
Is that brownies???
**RIGS!! ** Get over here right now. Brownies indeed, and no sharing?
Get it. We’re heading to Camden tomorrow afternoon to look at a place, and we’ll pass right by it, I’m sure, since we take the old 17 to avoid the high rise.
Oh how fun if Sean finds Bob his new home!
That’s it–I’m definitely getting alliums. I’ll look for some bulbs in the fall!
You all would hate my brother-in-law. If he has to be somewhere at 7 p.m., then at 7 p.m. he gets up and starts to think about getting ready to go.
Nothing makes for a great Welcome Home like cat puke on the dining room floor. :rolleyes: But that’s right up there with “Eat a live toad first thing in the morning and nothing worse will happen all day.” 
Actually, something good did happen, or will happen. FCD found out he’s been put in for a bonus. Bigger than the award I got last week! All of a sudden, I feel less guilty about all the money we’ve been spending on the studio. And I’m thinking we’ll take some of his bonus and take a little vacation when my work project is done - early October, when the weather is still nice.
That pretty much made up for the cat puke.
This evening is drywall sanding, followed by remudding, if there’s enough time. Once the second coat is sanded, I should be able to slap on some paint. Which means we could tile the floor this weekend, and move the washer and dryer. After putting in the plugs and lights, of course. So that project should be all done this weekend, and we can attack the studio part in earnest.
I gotta find Baltimore Clayworks Supply so’s I can buy some glazes to play with. Could be the birth of a ceramics empire!!
Incidentally, is no one having devilled ham for dinner?
I love my cousin dearly, but…
When she’s on vacation, that is,when school is out, she has no concept of time. It’s much better now that we have cell phones, but…
We were in Quebec summer of '99. I hadn’t yet had my hips replaced, so I wore out quickly. it was about 10pm and I said I’m going back to the hotel - She said “I’m a half hour behind you” “are you sure” “yes - I just want to check out this one shop (open late for the tourists) and then I’ll head back”
11:00pm came and went, so did midnight, 1:am, and 2:am. By now I’m frantic. We’re in a foreign city, neither of us speak much French, and we had been warned of unsavory types who like to prey on tourists - and my cousin is very trusting, too much so. I’m hysterical when she saunters in at 2:30 -
her: “oh, I ran into (someone we’d met earliet in the week) and we were talking. What’s the big deal?”
me: “Why didn’t you call here and tell me, I was worried”
her: “I don’t need another mother. I can handle myself, besides I didn’t want to wake you” (by now we’re boith yelling)
me: “From now on you have my permission, in this type of situation, to wake me. And don’t tell me not to worry about you. This isn’t (the conventions we go to a few times a year) where there’s a hospitality suite and dozens of folks we both know”
her: “I just didn’t think it was that big a deal”
me (to myself): (damn straight you just didn’t think!)
since then, she’s gotten much better - but that incident still gets me worked up when I think about it
Just that description makes my teeth itch. I used to think that I had been somehow stripped of all my father’s genes and influences, until the first time somebody was late on me. As it turns out, I am very much my father’s daughter.
twitches
falls over, dead
Actually, I’m not sure how you devil ham. Do you leave it near some bad chikken and hope the influence will spread?
Seriously, I’m beginning to think that if you and I are ever in the same place at the same time, it may cause some kind of paradox and the universe will implode.
Oh, and Faire starts August 5th.
I’m a perennially early person. If I’m not at least 5 minutes early, I feel like I’m late.
We had friends in FL who were always late. We missed a wedding because of them - and they were bringing the video camera to tape it. The bride was not happy. They also missed the surprise part of a surprise party that I threw for my sweetie - came wandering in about 15 minutes after the fanfare, unused videocam in hand.
Lucky for me, my husband is good about schedules. If I tell him I want to hit the road at 4, we’re generally pulling out of the garage at 3:30. We wait together a lot.
I hate. I hate. I hate. Being late.
I am known to leave to be someehere early enough, that if I have to in order to not appear geeky-early, I’ll drive in circles until I’m fashionably early.