Supper was chicken-rice soup made with leftover chicken and rice, half an onion left over from the other day, and the last of the chicken stock in the fridge. I also had half a loaf of French bread in the freezer that nuked up nicely. We finished off with 'nanner bread.
I just dug out FCD’s walker. He had a tough time standing after supper, but he didn’t want his folks to see it, so while they were loading their car, I put the walker in our bedroom. His MRI is tomorrow afternoon, and as soon as it’s done, his Dr can see it on line. I hope it’ll lead to a fast surgery date.
Inlaws leave in the morning, headed for Duke Medical center, then west to Indiana to see family before going back to Fl. I hope they’re up to the trip - that’s a LOT of driving!!
I’m pretty sure I’m sleeping with Mel tonight. I’s tahred…
Nah. We’re Navin Johnson’s extended family. But Ria’s grandmother adores that polite redheaded boy who wants his food “native spicy,” and eats goat curry, and lifts heavy pots while she’s teaching him to cook Punjab specialties.
All I want is to win the lottery and be able to retire. There’s a lot of stress in my job currently. I’ve been there for over fifteen years and on Saturday I nearly quit.
I’m not a quitter, but I was so tired, having worked long hours for a month and a half, and THEN I get some “negative feedback” about how I handled the job that day.
Yeah, yeah, I know it was the fatigue, but I nearly broke down. I’ve usually enjoyed my job, but lately I get up in the morning and wish I didn’t have to go in.
The Boy sounds like the sprog. He’s a huge Alton Brown fan and loves to cook. He’s also talking about finding a job next summer to help pay for his own TV and gaming console and attic renovations. I don’t think he’ll have any problems finding one.
Speaking of the sprog, his math teacher gave him the advanced math test the other day to see how he’d do on it. He did the first part himself with no problems and only needed to be shown once how to do the second part. She sent an email telling me he needs to be in Algebra I next year.
Everything else is progressing. The house thing, the job thing, both are doing what they’re doing.
My house at 11:00 pm: channel 113, Good Eats reruns on The Cooking Channel. “Zack! Alton is poaching! Next episode is salsa! Should I make popcorn?”
(Balsamic is stowed in the Box o’ Crap. Along with 4 of my treasured Tupperware spice jars. The oats shall wait, to avoid rancid pantry stores. But the grocery had some nice honey in the clearance cart today, so I bought all of it.)
Home and ended up doing 10 hours of two of the more physical jobs. Tired, a little sore and ready for my favorite wrap-down soaked in
It only has a couple <whinney> side effects. Pfffffft. Pfffffft.
Howdy Y’all! I had a busy day followed by men’s night over to the church house which was great as usual. I’s tahrd and up a bit past my bedtime but all is good.
{{{DAAAAAAD}}} so sorry for your loss but Happy Birthday. I know I usually sing in big bold red capital letters, but somehow that seems inappropriate for even me. However, if’n you want I will do so.
Happy Birthday Sah-Son! May you get lots of hats.
MOOOOOOM in-laws be weird. Here’s hopin’ FCD gets some relief soonest.
Peaches sounds like you taught the boy well.
Rockin’ yay for the Sprog!
Everybody else, sorry if I missed anything. Hugs, smooches, woohoos, yays, trouts, chitlins, wedgies, nougies, how you doin’s all around as needed.
Today’s clearance bargains also included several tubs of ricotta. Recipes? I can always make lasagne or tiramisu, but both seem heavy for 90° weather. I also bought nice flour tortillas @ $.50/pack of 8, and considered an Italian burrito/crepe, with a ricotta and spinach and sausage filling. I think it would be delicious!
(And The Boy just tried to reject some classic college food from The Box: a container of Velveeta, a can of Ro-tel, and a can of beans. “Mooom! I don’t like Velveeta!” “Son, no one admits to liking it. But warm, with tomatoes and chiles and maybe some nice browned sausage? With tortillas? Food of the gods.” He is not convinced. The child is spoiled and effete.)
Velveeta has one purpose…to be put on a hook. But when it hits the pond water, it creates a little oil slick, & judging by the usual results, even the fish don’t like it much.
Never tried fishing with it - sounds like a terrible idea! But for certain applications, it ain’t bad - warm dip with tomatoes, beans, and chiles, mostly - it’s pretty good. I think cheap beer helps. Towards the end of the semester, when grant money, scholarships, and allowance have been spent on cheap beer, a loaf of Velveeta and a pot of noodles is a welcome change to instant Ramen and juice and cookies at the local plasma donation center, too!
(In other words, it’s emergency food - when you’re too broke, too busy, or too drunk. Or maybe the power is out.)
Meanwhile, back at Stately Matata Manor: 66° American. A nice light sprinkle of rain. The chicken jello is made, the kindergarten kid’s clothes are laid out, and the 4-year old is having a fun conversation with me. “Mommy, my friend Itsy Bitsy Spider lives under the porch. If it’s raining, he needs to come inside.” “Oh, spiders like to camp in the rain.” “Can we find his mommy and ask if he can spend the night?” Itsy Bitsy is a garden spider the size of a large opossum. His mommy’s name is probably Buick. Or International Harvester.
If the department of children’s services ever investigates my house, it will be because the children are out searching for critters to have a sleep over.I fully expect to find an alligator in the girls’ bathroom any moment.
Irk is being irky. Mostly because my boss is as usual not answering any emails. I understand he doesn’t answer emails from his boss either. Is it weird to ask HR to shuffle you over someplace else where the person who is supposed to instruct you actually communicates? Maybe he’s depressed or something but I’m sorry, whether he is or isn’t, it’s not right to have the whole team running in circles trying to cover for him when there’s things nobody else can do!
Good Mornin’ Y’all! Up and caffeinatin’. YAWN 'Tis 71 Amurrkin out, cloudy and very hyoooooooomid, with a predicted high of 80 and rain for the day. We shall see.
Peaches my mom put up with (well, mostly it was “get that thing out of this house” when she found out) the five of us bringin’ in critters. Snakes and lizards will not stay in the place you tell them to stay. Stubborn critters they are!
Velveeta[sup]TM[/sup] and roaches are two of the few things that would survive a nuclear war.
OK, I need more caffeine and rumbly tummy demands sustenance. Then, alas and alack, purtification for irk must commence.
The Boy adores Brussels sprouts, cantaloupe, cilantro, and cucumbers. AFAIK, the only thing he doesn’t eat is peppercorns, because he inherited my allergy. (Stupidest food allergy ever.) He has grudgingly accepted that it might be okay to keep ingredients on hand for a quick cheese-ish dip for a football Saturday with the roommates. Boys who will drink Natty Light.)
Meanwhile back at the motel (please someone get the reference) we haven’t put a Harley on the high dive. But Littlest Miss is all snuggled up with the bad-ass police K9 Belgian malinois. K9 JO* is wearing a flower headband. And my husband is resigning himself to life in the International House of Estrogen, once the boy moves out in August.
*We inherited JO from a friend. He told us then that the name was in honor of a friend. Turns out that it stands for “Jack Off.” Apparently, at least two handlers tried to deal with our problem child. The second returned him to the trainer’s kennel with a new name. That mean, horrible, unmanageable K9 is currently wearing a flower crown and snuggled up asleep next to his favorite 4-year-old. I guarantee that the previous handlers were guys who thought the dog was some Freudian substitute for machismo. He’s a big jerk if he doesn’t like you. But he’s also a Damned Good Dog. He tolerates The Boy, likes Lily well enough, kinda loves the teen girl, and adores me, Tony, and the baby.
