The Iceman Cometh?
Well, perhaps that's a bit precipitous. Let's stick with "The Cold-Front Man Cometh." At least, hopefully. Today's a nice gray day. I'm sure everyone else was grateful for sunny weather over the holiday, but not me! I wish we'd had at least one rainy day. Then I could've enjoyed this cup of tea at home instead of at my lousy office.
I crave three day weekends, but it seems that by the time the third day rolls around, I'm ready to work again. Then I get back to work, and I realize what an idiot I was! But yesterday, a bit of the old boredom set in. I watched that fat psycho Paula Deen on the Food Network for a while (even looking at her show makes your ass spread, btw), worked on my writing, did laundry...nothing sufficed. I decided to whip out my Fanny Farmer cookbook and cooked up a storm, although by the time I was finished, I didn't want to eat any of the things I made. I did however try my hand at gumbo for the first time ever. What a pain in the behind! Fresh chopped garlic, jalepenos, lemons, tomatoes... my hands about fell off! I even shredded the chicken by hand, and the whole mess took about four hours. When I was done I could honestly say that for a first batch, it wasn't half bad. It did make me extremely "homesick" for New Orleans, though. I probably won't make it back this year, but Casey and I have vowed to return as soon as possible. We'll probably head down some time cheap, like Lent. Next spring, it will happen! It's strange; sometimes I don't think about it at all. Other times, it washes over me in one intensely vicious wave, the longing to be there. I've certainly never felt that intensely about a person, and I sure hope I never do.
My birthday is soon. I tend to track them weather-wise. I remember on my 23rd, I was in Tulsa at a concert, and for some reason, it was bitterly cold and rainy, sometime sleeting! Let's keep our fingers crossed for some inclement September weather. My soul demands it!
I crave three day weekends, but it seems that by the time the third day rolls around, I'm ready to work again. Then I get back to work, and I realize what an idiot I was! But yesterday, a bit of the old boredom set in. I watched that fat psycho Paula Deen on the Food Network for a while (even looking at her show makes your ass spread, btw), worked on my writing, did laundry...nothing sufficed. I decided to whip out my Fanny Farmer cookbook and cooked up a storm, although by the time I was finished, I didn't want to eat any of the things I made. I did however try my hand at gumbo for the first time ever. What a pain in the behind! Fresh chopped garlic, jalepenos, lemons, tomatoes... my hands about fell off! I even shredded the chicken by hand, and the whole mess took about four hours. When I was done I could honestly say that for a first batch, it wasn't half bad. It did make me extremely "homesick" for New Orleans, though. I probably won't make it back this year, but Casey and I have vowed to return as soon as possible. We'll probably head down some time cheap, like Lent. Next spring, it will happen! It's strange; sometimes I don't think about it at all. Other times, it washes over me in one intensely vicious wave, the longing to be there. I've certainly never felt that intensely about a person, and I sure hope I never do.
My birthday is soon. I tend to track them weather-wise. I remember on my 23rd, I was in Tulsa at a concert, and for some reason, it was bitterly cold and rainy, sometime sleeting! Let's keep our fingers crossed for some inclement September weather. My soul demands it!