Happy Labor Day Weekend
It was definitely not my intent to take the summer off from Blogger/Livejournal, but it looks like that's basically what I did. Blame Facebook. Blame laziness. Blame extra hours at all different shifts at work for computer training lately. Blame needing every minute between the time I hit the door from work until the time I fell into bed a lot of mornings to prepare stuff for an out-of-town trip at various points all summer.
Here it is September, and the Timmeh's birthday is nigh. I'm more or less off the hook for buying a 'thing' as a gift, which is really a relief. More and more I am completely stumped as to what 'things' to buy for people's birthdays or Christmas. I did bake him a peach-blueberry pie yesterday, one of his favorites. What he'd like to do is visit Western Market in Cleveland, as featured on a recent Anthony Bourdain's 'No Reservations'. And have dinner at Cadieux Cafe one night, a place we've been trying to visit for years. Hopefully these things can be arranged before the snow flies. These are the kinds of presents I love giving, obviously.
For now it is 0530, the coffee pot is gurgling, I'm enjoying the black, insect noise-filled predawn of a late summer morning, and the final stages of housecleaning are commencing. A few weeks ago, Arizona brother-in-law Tom and Pennsylvania brother-in-law John decided to seize a narrow window of opportunity and come to Michigan for a family visit. John and family are staying with us, and should be here by mid-afternoon. At which point everyone will then drive up to Frankenmuth to Bavarian Inn for chicken dinner. Which means no one (that is, Mom Reinert) has to cook a big meal. Prepare for overnight guests, yes, but no huge cooking extravaganza. And tomorrow possibly another dinner out at Krzysiak's in Bay City. Where if one is smart, one can load up on pierogis, potato pancakes, and stuffed cabbage, and ignore the mediocre, dumped-out-of-a-can and deep-fried buffet.
I do have a Sunday morning spread planned, to tide us over. I got an idea from a Martha Stewart mag for baked eggs with pesto and farmers' market tomatoes. I've been a pesto makin' fool of late...better to do it now while the basil is so gorgeous, than my usual waiting until the day before it's supposed to frost. Sweet potato muffins with streusel topping morphed from wanting to make pumpkin bars with cream cheese frosting. Hopefully the teens will like them as much as the bars, and possibly they'll be slightly healthier. Some grilled ham steaks to go with our green eggs. Some broiled local peaches. And of course juice and coffee. I need to see which of our Larry's Beans is a little smoother and milder than our usual French roast blends. We've alarmed John before with our hit-upside-the-head, put-hair-on-your-chest pots of coffee. He needs something a little more genteel. Non-shift workers...gotta handle 'em with care.
And this entire weekend came together with a pleasant, significant absence: not one single (out of the usual two dozen) vague, micromanaging e-mail from the Royal Oak MI brother-in-law that contain no information to move the planning process forward, that contain a minimum of three more questions, and at least one statement beginning with the words 'I am not certain...'. None. Nada. Zilch. Why is this? We don't know, but we are thanking God for small blessings. We suspect it may have to do with him passing the critical mass of backed-up accounting work; a lingering lower back problem; or just maybe finally getting smart.
Time to attack the cobwebs in the Moosewood Lodge...
Here it is September, and the Timmeh's birthday is nigh. I'm more or less off the hook for buying a 'thing' as a gift, which is really a relief. More and more I am completely stumped as to what 'things' to buy for people's birthdays or Christmas. I did bake him a peach-blueberry pie yesterday, one of his favorites. What he'd like to do is visit Western Market in Cleveland, as featured on a recent Anthony Bourdain's 'No Reservations'. And have dinner at Cadieux Cafe one night, a place we've been trying to visit for years. Hopefully these things can be arranged before the snow flies. These are the kinds of presents I love giving, obviously.
For now it is 0530, the coffee pot is gurgling, I'm enjoying the black, insect noise-filled predawn of a late summer morning, and the final stages of housecleaning are commencing. A few weeks ago, Arizona brother-in-law Tom and Pennsylvania brother-in-law John decided to seize a narrow window of opportunity and come to Michigan for a family visit. John and family are staying with us, and should be here by mid-afternoon. At which point everyone will then drive up to Frankenmuth to Bavarian Inn for chicken dinner. Which means no one (that is, Mom Reinert) has to cook a big meal. Prepare for overnight guests, yes, but no huge cooking extravaganza. And tomorrow possibly another dinner out at Krzysiak's in Bay City. Where if one is smart, one can load up on pierogis, potato pancakes, and stuffed cabbage, and ignore the mediocre, dumped-out-of-a-can and deep-fried buffet.
I do have a Sunday morning spread planned, to tide us over. I got an idea from a Martha Stewart mag for baked eggs with pesto and farmers' market tomatoes. I've been a pesto makin' fool of late...better to do it now while the basil is so gorgeous, than my usual waiting until the day before it's supposed to frost. Sweet potato muffins with streusel topping morphed from wanting to make pumpkin bars with cream cheese frosting. Hopefully the teens will like them as much as the bars, and possibly they'll be slightly healthier. Some grilled ham steaks to go with our green eggs. Some broiled local peaches. And of course juice and coffee. I need to see which of our Larry's Beans is a little smoother and milder than our usual French roast blends. We've alarmed John before with our hit-upside-the-head, put-hair-on-your-chest pots of coffee. He needs something a little more genteel. Non-shift workers...gotta handle 'em with care.
And this entire weekend came together with a pleasant, significant absence: not one single (out of the usual two dozen) vague, micromanaging e-mail from the Royal Oak MI brother-in-law that contain no information to move the planning process forward, that contain a minimum of three more questions, and at least one statement beginning with the words 'I am not certain...'. None. Nada. Zilch. Why is this? We don't know, but we are thanking God for small blessings. We suspect it may have to do with him passing the critical mass of backed-up accounting work; a lingering lower back problem; or just maybe finally getting smart.
Time to attack the cobwebs in the Moosewood Lodge...