03 January 2010
I’ve been working for 8 days straight and I don’t make much sense anymore. Tomorrow is gonna be fun, huh? But then, I get a day or two off, I think. The kids are all safely home from their various travels.
Life around here is getting back to normal after the holidays, but normal is difficult to define.
I/We love French Onion Soup, and for some unknown reason, I was up to my ass in onions. Actually, it’s because I get an idea in my head like, “I need to buy onions,” and can’t get it out, even after I’ve bought 3 bags of onions.  I’m up to my arse in laundry detergent, too, but at least that doesn’t go bad. So I made a good sized pot of French Onion Soup, made a loaf of fresh bread, and Paul did the honors of assembling it and putting it under the broiler to melt and brown the cheese. In my zeal to gobble mine all down ensure that it was suitably delicious for Himself, I actually put blisters on my tongue from the scorching heat. Note to self: Gluttony should be reserved for food items that are served chilled. Like beer. He says it was a wonderful batch – I couldn’t taste it, due to pain. I should have taken a pictures of the soup as it was served. Would have looked nice here, spiced up the page a bit, and maybe the soup would have cooled some while I was fiddling with a camera.
So he’s in a good mood due to a good meal, and I grabbed him before he sits down and gets comfortable. “C’mon, dear, I’ve got a chore for you.” And I drag him by the hand towards the bedroom. Stop thinking that! I need his help changing sheets. I love our waterbed – we’ve had this semi-baffle one for about 7 or 8 years. BUT on a good day, I hate changing the sheets on it, and when my back is bad, I just can’t do it by myself. It’s a Queen size, and waterbeds are bigger than a Queen sized regular mattress, and that’s a hell of a lot of water/weight to lift up to secure the corners of the bottom fitted sheets. To make it easier, I buy King sheets, except when the clutch is out on my brain and I go to the store and buy Queen sized sheets for a Queen size bed, which I did. Duh.  And those were the ones that were going on the bed. Three times the tugging and pulling is needed. But before we even get that far, just about the time he realizes exactly what chore I’ve got in mind, and makes some crack about, “Change the sheets?? They’re not even crackling yet!” so I hollar out, “Well, okay, let’s give them one more go-round before they hit the washer” and give him a push, both of us fall on the bed. When I start laughing, really laughing, I inevitably and almost immediately have to run to the “loo.” He’s still face down on the bed and looks up – calling out “Where are you? I thought you wanted to change the sheets,” and of course, I’m on the potty, still laughing. During all this, the dog is outside our bedroom door, locked out and screaming about it. We have to close her out or she continually jumps on the bed, making a difficult task more problematic, and shortening our tempers.
I did make 2 loaves of Banana Bread tonight. Bought a large bunch of bananas when I knew Kate was coming, bringing the boys here. They may have had a banana, maybe not, as their mother brought fruit for them with her. I ate one or two. Not sure why I had to buy an enormous bunch of them – maybe simply out of habit after raising 3 kids? Anyway, the bananas trying to fit in with the crowd here were past their peak. Pulled out my ancient 3-ring binder of all the really good recipes and found the one for Banana Bread that my mother found 30 years ago. Calls for sour cream in the batter and a layer in the middle of sugar, cinnamon and chopped walnuts. You pour half the batter into the loaf pans, spread the cinnamon mixture evenly, pour the remaining batter evenly over the top. I could have taken a picture of the bread, but didn’t.
I should be doing laundry. I could be knitting. And instead, I’m sitting here with a man who is roaring with laughter over a “Herbie the Insane Volkswagon” movie, something he should have outgrown about 50 years ago. When I told him this, he just held up his whole hand, fingers extended upward, and told me to pick ONE.  I’ll take the one in the middle, dear.
