Tearful Goodbyes and Welcoming the New

 

Does anyone know what day it is? No, really. I don't think it's hump day yet, but I'm at a loss this week. I have lost a day or two. It's been a long seven days, that's for sure. Had the sniffles, chills, cough, and crud for way too long. If illness wasn't enough, Terry's hand ended up in a splint because he was pulled a bit too hard by Togo during one of their walks. Apparently, it left him with a pulled and swollen tendon and his having pain shoot through his digits. His hand has a new home now, inside a pretty blue splint, for at least a couple of weeks. If not better by the end of those two weeks, off he goes to see the doctor again. 

Speaking of doctors, my granddaughter-in-law is slated for a cesarean on Monday to bring our beautiful great granddaughter into the world. We have two great granddaughters already and cannot wait to meet the third. 

My grandson, Keenan and his lovely wife Katie, already have one daughter, Elena. She is adorable! Now she will be the big sister to a new baby girl or will be on Monday. The baby is breach. They tried throughout the day on Thursday to reposition the baby and have Katie give birth by inducing labor before the baby went back into the breach position. But the process failed. The next option is to perform a C-section, as I stated, scheduled for Monday. The new baby will join her big sister and Zyrah, her second cousin, as our great grandchildren. I cannot wait to meet her! Well, through pictures for now, as they live in Texas, and we are in Oregon. 

Keenan's mother, Marina, is flying to Italy for a few weeks and then will go to Texas to see her newborn granddaughter and of course, her son, daughter-in-law and first grandchild, Elena. The idea of having her granddaughter is so exciting! The family is definitely growing. I love it. I enjoy all the love and support a large family can give each other. Terry wasn't used to a large family around him all the time. It had been many years for him, but he fits right in with the family. I have been blessed so many times over and am grateful for that every day. 

This is a portion of our wonderful familial group. Not all members are in this photo, but it's those we had for the wedding. My family loves Terry as much as I do, bringing us all closer. A few of our family members couldn't be there for the wedding, plus the family extends outward as all families do. Some extended family members are missing because we wanted to keep the wedding attendee count fairly small. A good portion of the family is in Tennessee. But the addition of another baby develops an even larger family dynamic that we know and love. We are wishing them well and cannot wait to meet the new baby girl! 

Now, into the kitchen. 

I have been sharing bits and pieces (and a lot of them) about the sourdough hobby I picked up a couple of months back. I put Seymour (the sourdough starter) in the refrigerator to put him to bed for a bit. This process terrified me in a way, knowing it could be too soon for the cold nap and I could be sending him to sleep with the fishes, so to speak. As strange as it sounds, you get attached to the little jars of slime because of all the care you put into them. 

 I came across some great sounding sourdough recipes the other day and I thought I would wake Seymour from his nap again to bring those baked items to fruition. Wow! Did he ever come back to life well! I made some sourdough biscuits, and they were heavenly! The finished product also brought back childhood memories that made me smile. Those biscuits are definitely a comfort food in my world and in my mind.  

As a background, my family is originally from the southern portion of the United States. I was born in Smyrna, Tennessee; my brother Mike was born in Alabama, and we have lived in Georgia and other southern states as well. We even joke around about having a Billy Bob in the family. My nephew's name is actually William Robert, but when you shorten it ... Hey, I didn't name the child. 

Because of the family background, I grew up eating a blend of southern foods along with dishes from the Pacific Northwest when we moved to Oregon many years ago. My father was born and raised in the south and my mother was an Iowan farm girl. The two cultures combined to create an array of heavenly textures, tastes, aromas, and beautiful creations when it came to what we ate. Mom had a career through the government, yet she ensured we all ate homemade meals every night. She was a good cook too. 

 It seems families ate more of the homemade foods back in the day. Today, we seem to have an increase in illnesses, such as cancers and autoimmune diseases, and I believe some of it links back to our diet. More preservatives added to create that longer shelf life and antibiotics and other chemicals coming from the growth of the animals that produce our meat products. But that is yet another blog. 

One such memory of wonderful meals were based on Sundays. Each Sunday my mother would drag us out of bed and listen to about an hour of complaining from her six children as she had us dress for church. None of us wanted to get out of bed early on Sundays, but yet, there we were. We hated disappointing mom. My head would be nodding through most of the service, not in agreement with what the pastor was shouting at me but nodding as in a feeble attempt to remain upright and awake. The church was warm, the clothes mom wanted me to wear made me hotter, creating a soothing atmosphere. Perfect for napping. 

Many a sermon was missed because of the combination of the heat, late nights, and well, let's be quite honest here, flat out boredom. Church services and lecturing teachers were a child's nemesis. About 20 minutes of staring at the pastor in an attempt to figure out why he must shout everything he says and that was all I could stand. I had a perfectly good pillow calling my name at home and a great pew at church to snore in. I was good. Now if that man would just hold it down and the pews were padded ...

After making it through the service, we would rush home where my dad and mom would make a huge southern brunch, consisting of bacon, sausage, sometimes ham, eggs, hashbrowns, homemade strawberry freezer jam, and the best southern biscuits you could imagine. I can still taste the butter and jelly combo I would smear on the inside of a biscuit. The strawberries in the jam were fresh, giving the biscuits a taste of sheer joy. Wonderful! 

Each Sunday we would have these large spreads of food, leaving nothing to be desired. The parents would sit and chat, drinking coffee and eating as much as they could. Grits were buttered and added to the mix when my mother could find grits to cook. Stores here in Oregon simply did not carry them often, if at all. If you asked about them, the employees on shift would look at you like you were from another planet. "What the hell is a grit?" 

Great memories of the closeness and fun of my large family, even to this day. Those biscuits remind me of times when my siblings and parents gathered around the table to chat, laugh, and take time from our busy day to relax together. The other day I was taken back to those happy times in my childhood, when I ran across the recipe for the sourdough biscuits. I had to try them out! 

I blended the dough with love, pouring Seymour in with pride. I was so proud of my bubbling slime. My biscuit design was complete. Now to bake them. The aroma wafted throughout the home, reminiscent of those wonderful Sundays of years gone by. I kept a close eye on the baking biscuits, partially to watch for burn and also because I was impatient. I'm of the belief that if you stare at something in the oven long enough, it just might make the process faster. It's never worked, but at least I try. 

Finally, brown appeared on the top of them, and I knew it was go-time. The wonderful aroma was enough to create a feeling in me that they would be perfect. Little heavenly, delightful, fluffy puffs of joy. Childhood, here I come! Lovely memories were drawn into my psyche from that wonderful aroma. It was Sunday morning again, in my childhood home, with my family. 

The biscuits were light and flakey on the inside. Biscuits do not get any better!

All I need now is a batch of sausage gravy. 

Oh, my gosh! They are so soft on the inside, while having that wonderful crust on the outside. A little butter and a bit of jam and wow! Childhood all over again! I'm loving these! Hubby Mac tried one and said he liked it, but I don't know if he's as jazzed as I am about them. Cultural differences as children, I guess. He lived in Las Vegas as a boy. I don't think they served grits or most other southern cuisine in casinos, in Vegas at least. Especially not back then. But I'm in heaven. This sourdough recipe is a must-bake as time goes on.

I also found a way to ship sourdough boules to my family! I'm ecstatic because I have been wanting to send at least one to my youngest. My oldest daughter says she doesn't care for sourdough, but I believe she is imagining the tangy sourdough flavor, where this does not have that strong tang. You can create that by letting the baked goods ferment for a longer period after shaping them, but for the most part, it tastes like great homemade goodness, without a real sourdough "zap" to the outcome. The sourdough starter is used mainly to replace yeast, especially in the beginning of the starter's life. Mine is only about three months old. Anyway, thought I would share a bit of the baking this week. Seymour is heading back into the fridge for another nap. Until next bake, sweet prince ...

Brandy, my youngest daughter, gave me a recipe for some cabbage soup she had made. While the thought of her actually eating cabbage made me smile, I wanted to find out what the hype was all about. Last night, I made her cabbage soup and have to say, sweet man and I have a new addition to the soups we love. 

Melding hamburger, onion, carrots, crushed red pepper flakes, salt and pepper, and beef broth made a beautiful bath for the cabbage. While it was an amazing soup, the next time I make it for us, I will avoid putting quite so much crushed red pepper on top of the ground pepper into the pot. Whew! Great tasting but OMG, my mouth was on fire. I had killed every taste bud I own. Sweet man loves spicy, but I crafted a dish that was far beyond spicy. My mouth had come alive as a space where even fire fighters do not dare to go. Instead of a blending of the senses, I numbed mine. Now I know what "mind blown" feels like. Whoa. Hot stuff. I do have to say however, that my sinuses are cleansed now. Wow.  

Maybe instead of begging for some food, our dog was trying to tell me not to serve the concoction. I had this look shot at me throughout the cooking process ...

Now, Togo is an attention whore, but he really maintained a closeness to me yesterday while the soup bubbled on the stove. After the first bite, I realized that I may have misconstrued the begging look for a look of sheer terror that I might feed this to daddy. He was frightened that I might kill his loving father. 

As a side story, I bought wipes at the store last night too and couldn't find them later. I pulled open drawers and cupboards in the bathroom to see just where my husband had put the wipes (for whatever reason) and found nothing. Walking through the bedroom to change my shirt, I tripped over the triple pack of wipes that were lying next to the bed. The billowy pack seemed to have become a pillow for our pup. I don't know, nor do I pretend to know what this beautiful boy is thinking. Abandonment issues? Security blanket? Who knows. He does not tear things up. He just wants his collection near him. We allow him to show those personality quirks and generally leave his milk jugs and potholders where he puts them, at least until garbage day or until we are having company.

Well, here we are, living life on a Thursday. Looking at the weather last night, I realized we are headed into a downward spiral into actual winter weather! It is dropping into the 30's this week! Saturday is expected to be 30 for a low and I'm not ready. I don't want winter. I'm not over fall yet. I'm actually still putting on sun tan lotion. Wearing flip flops and capris. This cannot be happening. Pretty certain Togo is loving it, but I don't have all that fur on me. Maybe if I stop shaving? 

Sweet man came in and asked if I wanted to join him in a trip to the yogurt shop. Does a bear use Charmin? Um, I believe so. I am feeling a bit guilty though, as I had some sugary foods earlier and also a few carb infested foods too. My doctor would be proud. 😕😒😏😟 But hey, this will not only be good, it will get me out of work for a while. I could use the break, that's for sure. 

I am supposed to be exercising, eating right, leaving out sugary foods and carbs, like we all should be doing actually. Instead, I'm seeing how many foods I can make that have carbs in them. Let's begin with potato soup made this week. Popcorn for TV at night. Zuppa Toscana soup with potatoes. Then the biscuits. The bread. OMG, the bread. I do have to stop. The doctor has recently increased my diabetic meds and added another one. This is not good. My A1C is not only out of control, it has pulled an Elvis and left the building. I saw it packing suitcases. 

Only two and a half years ago I was down so low on my numbers that my dietician and doctor were telling me only one or two months to go and I would be out of the diabetic zone. Freedom would be mine. 

With such a small amount of time left for that release of having to take meds and fear of having outrageous, heart-attack-causing numbers, you would think I could have, should have, would have finished it out and kept it there. But me? Oh, no. I'm a triple Capricorn. My brain tells me, "Oh, hey, you are in the safety zone now. Don't worry about it." I was living my best life. Meeting Terry. We ate. Engagement. We celebrated and ate. It was on Thanksgiving Day for eateries sake. Marriage. Comfort, love, joy and more eating. We honeymooned at the coast. Plenty of foods to consume daily and the happiness that had consumed my soul had my body also consuming the beautiful foods around me. That mac and cheese with pulled pork as a topping. Ice cream and milkshakes. Hey, those were sugar free, but unfortunately the calories were still alive and well. 

Don't get me wrong. I am in no way blaming any of this on Terry. It is and has always been my decision to choose what to eat. Terry is diabetic too. He gets it. It is up to me to cook, bake, and sauté our way to good health or at least take care of my own health. The other option is to cook us both into a coma. Terry loves anything I make and loves to eat it. I have become far too lax to do myself any good. This weekend, this all changes. I keep saying I'm going to get better and make healthier choices, but I need to. No. I have to. I want to, which is the most important aspect. I want to. 

I just tripped over my podium from choking on those words. I am feeling the guilt for not eating better and all that is great, but does anyone recall the post from last week? I was procrastinating over thinking about procrastination. That's how pathetic I am. Now I'm promising to get into a healthy diet mode and exercise a lot more. Exercise a little more?  Ha! That's rich. Let me rephrase that ... How about beginning to exercise. There. That reads better and encompasses more of the truth. I can't even put a bookshelf together without taking weeks to ponder the idea and actually, not much pondering has gone on.

 Sweet man and I both just glance at the pile of parts lying on the floor in disarray as we come into the office. Ah, this should be a hilarious week. I'll have to take photos. I can see the first picture now. Me, lying on the couch with my big, hairy, garbage collecting pup, using his milk jug as a pillow, spoon in my hand and a quart of ice cream sitting on my chest, slurping down the ice cream while watching an episode of Jerry Springer. I don't really watch Jerry Springer, nor do I spend the day lying on the couch eating. Just clarifying that point. Maybe a bit of exaggeration, but gives an image of how bad it is getting or at least what I carry in my mind. 

Well, guess what? I had a reminder of the lack of completion of building those bookshelves when I stubbed my toe on one of the shelves this morning. What really hurt the toe and the pride was that I did it while carrying in a piece of marionberry pie I thought I could finish off. It's called karma in most parts of the country and wow, did it ever bite me in the ass. Ugh, that hurt. 

Eating the rest of the piece while I looked for a file to work on really sounded like a plan. Of course, marionberry pie cannot possibly be eaten without a scoop of creamy, delicious vanilla Carb Smart ice cream on top. Hey, it's Carb Smart, right? But it was missing something. How about mixed nuts? Yes! Salty versus sweet and gives it that beautiful crunch too. I watch all the cooking shows. What a heavenly plate of food I was about to sit and eat. Deliciousness and a coronary waiting to happen. When I die, can I be buried face down though so calories and diabetes can kiss my big ass? *

Ugh. Here we go. Rabbit food and movement of the body next week. Can she do it? We will see. I'll probably trip and hurt myself during the first 15 minutes of exercise. At least I'll have an excuse for not exercising more, right? I've heard it could kill you anyway. Not the tripping and falling, but the simple act of moving the body. Believe me, I have had instances in my life where I have damaged myself doing nothing. Broke a toe once while sitting in a chair, playing a video game. Yes, it takes talent. My doctor was quite impressed. 

But next week begins the Bridget Jones diet. I like the way that woman thinks. Monday is doomsday. We'll see. The toughest day is going to be making it through Halloween. My tradition for Halloween is to buy munchies and pizza, soda, and caramel apples, candy and the like, sit in front of the TV and chow while watching scary movies. This typically leads to a ton of candy, soda, pizza, caramel apples and other stuff left over to eat for the next month. And so it continues ... 

Friday, October 26, 2023

Friday already. Just a few days from Halloween. Terry and I really don't have plans. I am sitting in the office once again, working on files. Terry is outside, freezing his patootie off while smoking a cigar. It is barely above 30 degrees and he's making the most of smoking those things, while his toes, ears, nose and digits have all fallen off of his body, leaving me yet something else to clean up. 

The night went well. All was quiet, including our biker buddies across the street. For whatever reason they did not shoot off explosives to scare the crap out of the elderly, veterans, and pets. It was nice to have a break for once. Not sure if this was caused by the police actually doing something about this during the week or if it was because they were out of explosives or whatever the case is. I'm pretty certain it wasn't done from a humanity standpoint. But, bless their little childish hearts. I wish them all well. 

Terry and I ate a quick dinner last night and watched a bit of TV. I came back into the office to finish up a very long file I had taken on and he decided to go up against the freezing cold weather to suck down a cigar. File complete and it was off to bed. Such an exciting Friday night we lead. I don't know how we keep up with such hectic, exciting lives. 😉😕😏

Saturday, October 28, 2023

This morning I awoke to bad news. It shattered me to the core. I began the morning by shedding tears over the loss of one of our family. My oldest daughter's dog, Bear-bear, passed away at the age of 10. This crushes my soul. I do not handle death well and this does include pets. Our pets are family members as far as I am concerned. The one consolation is that I knew Bear had a wonderful life with my daughter after she was rescued from a horrible situation. 

Bear and her four siblings were born to a family who already owned four dogs. One of them obviously gave birth and the family did not want them. My suggestion would be to spay and/or neuter your dogs so this doesn't happen, but you just cannot fix stupid, even with duct tape.  

I received a call from Dawn, my oldest daughter who told me that Jessee's friend had an aunt who owned four dogs. One of them had puppies a few weeks before. They were frantic to get rid of the dogs. The family hating these babies was an understatement. Jess warned us they were going to take them out to the woods and shoot them if someone didn't take them. Those are fighting words to my family. 

Dawn, Brandy, and I jumped into Dawn's SUV and off we went to meet these jerks. We met them halfway between their home and ours. I was appalled when we arrived to see a group of five little pups rolling around in the back of their vehicle, all alone. There was nothing surrounding them to secure their safety. Beside the pups lay a large bag of dog food. The dog food was four times the size of the pup's mouths. It was an adult dog food and one of the cheapest, most awful brands of food you could buy to keep growing pups healthy. Tears welled in my eyes when I saw the conditions these babies were in just during delivery. But the worst was yet to come. 

All five of the babies hopped around, wagging tails to show their excitement to see us. The woman and her two daughters remained in the front and middle sections of the SUV, not caring about the dogs. We began to lift the dogs to look them over. I wanted to check their health condition more than anything. That was when we first met little Bear. 

She was brindle in color and had some long hair in the shape of a mane around her neck. While she tried to get our attention, I realized one of her front legs was bent halfway up to her chest. I was both shocked and scared. Had she been abused this badly? Was this a birth defect? I began to put the puppies into Dawn's car and get them ready for transport. I wanted to get away from these horrid people before things were said that I might regret. Well, regret is a strong word, but I do know it's wrong to speak to others like I wanted to speak to these morons. These, the people who hated the puppies, but were also far too ignorant to get their dogs fixed to stop the issue. 

Leaving the bag of food in the car that they were offering, we climbed into Dawn's car and headed homeward. Finding the visit with the previous owners disgusting, we all admitted how bad we felt for these little girls. There were five, so it would be a chore to locate forever homes for the babies, especially when they were all female or at least so we thought. 

But, one by one they disappeared from our grasp. Brandy had three friends who happily accepted the girls and off they went to their new forever homes. Even today they are living their best lives in the homes they were given. One of the girls, little Chi-Chi, came home with Brandy and I. Brandy wanted to keep her. She had captured my animal loving daughter's heart. At the age of 10, she is still at home, being loved by Brandy and Dan, my son-in-law. The litter of sweet girls wove their way into our homes and our hearts. They were beautiful, happy, loving souls who were in need of a good home. That is something I can honestly say they got and will have until the day they pass. 

A vet visit told us that Bear was born with the leg bent upward. It was a birth defect, not a case of being abused. A huge sigh of relief came from my body. Not that I wanted her to be born with any type of defect, but the thought of her leg being injured accidentally or even on purpose made me sick. Dawn made the decision to keep the leg attached when given the option of amputation or leaving well enough alone. I was glad she chose to keep it. It has never gotten in the way of anything and Bear makes it around just fine with it the way it is. To me it was a part of Bear's personality. She held it with pride and didn't let her missing limb slow her down at all. 

Dawn took Bear into her home. She has loved her for the past 10 years and in fact spoiled her rotten. She has always been loved and accepted as the three-legged cutie she is. But this morning she passed away at around six or seven. We will all miss her dearly. It leaves such an empty hole in your heart when losing a family member. I loved her deeply and know that I will miss her so much when around Dawn and the family. At least she had an amazing life. She was loved by the entire family. 

Each family gathering, she would bounce across the yard or floor of the house on her three legs, running faster than the four legged dogs around her. She was spunky and adored her human mom. That is the one comforting thought is how happy she was in her life. Bless her heart. She left us far too soon. From what Dawn said, it sounded as though she had a heart attack last night. Until we all meet up again, Bear, have a beautiful journey and run on all fours!

Our little Bear-Bear. She was born with her leg bent as a birth defect. 

Adorable baby girl. Rest in peace sweetheart.

Chi-Chi, Bear's sister. All five of the girls looked about the same, but in varying sizes. The dogs are toy poodle, chihuahua, rat terrier mixes. I do believe there was another breed in there too, but once you're over a couple it doesn't really matter much. They are cute, beautiful baby girls and that's all that mattered. I'm not sure how much Bear weighed before she passed, but Chi weighs in at a whopping four pounds, soaking wet. She has very long "spider legs". Bear might have been living with a heart issue as she was only 10 and most tiny dogs typically live longer. Chi has had several seizures that the vet keeps an eye on, but this recent loss leaves their health and longevity in question. 

I tried to keep myself busy today to keep my mind off of Bear. A few discussions with family and I decided to escape into the Internet for a while. Wouldn't you know it? My Internet was down. Of course it was! I just had Spectrum replace our router the other day and here we go again. After three reboots and numerous swear words, even a kick or two, I knew it wasn't going to come up. Once again, I dialed Spectrum's number. My nemesis. You would think if you pay someone $200 per month that the service would be outstanding, topped with a crown of gold, and we would never have issues. Fat chance. 

The TV is always "loading" or cutting us off in the middle of movies or shows. I missed a day of work the other day because I couldn't get it to come up, even after multiple reboots of the entire system, including the laptop. I am just dumbfounded at how a tiny setup like a modem and router can send your blood pressure sky high in a matter of seconds and can disrupt your life as much as it does. Ugh. Maybe that's a hint that we should not be so dependent on electronic devices, social media, and television? Nah. It's Spectrum's fault.  

I have placed Spectrum on my speed dial. A chat with the woman and the technician, and voila. The system is again running. It's a good thing because the Oregon Ducks play Utah Utes today. I don't want to see my husband cry. I've already shed enough tears today, I don't need more swelling of my eyes. Game time and it went flawlessly. The Ducks played in the house of Utes. Final score was 35-6, Ducks. They came away with yet another victory. Proud of our Ducks! 

During halftime, I jumped up and baked some cookies. Peanut butter cookies that I have been craving this week for whatever reason. Imagine that. On the last batch, I decided to make some peanut butter thumbprint cookies. Each indentation in the cookie received a touch of fig jam. Wonderful!

I have not had peanut butter cookies for years! They were great! I had a couple of them and left the thumbprints for another time. I felt I had enough sugar for the day. Hubby Mac had a couple and walked away too. I had just made some chocolate chip cookies last night and he had eaten some of those during the game. It was time for both of us to walk away. 

Monday is my beginning of eating much better. I've said that a few times to myself, that certain days would be my start day for healthier eating, exercising, et cetera, but I've put it off. No any longer. I am making the announcement here, as a reminder to myself that Monday is the day. I'm hoping too if I say it out loud, in public, that might help me keep it up. We'll see. I'm the queen of procrastination, after all. 

Sweet man is taking me out to see a movie tonight on the topic of life after death. Afterward, we are having dinner out. You never know what type of trouble we will get into when we are unsupervised, out in public. It's anyone's guess. 

The night went okay. It was actually quite a nice documentary. The title of the film was After Death. Sweet man is exploring the world of near death experiences and what happens after we pass. He has read some books and articles, then asked if I wished to go with him to watch the film, After Death. It was two hours of hearing various stories of near death experiences and the scientific, medical proof found by doctors and a couple of those interested in the scientific side of the theory. 

On a scale of one to 10 for films in general, I would say about an eight. For films about NDE's (Near death experiences), I would give it a seven. While the film was full of personal tales of those who had either taken their own life or were killed in accidents and returned to tell about it, there is so much more to explore on this topic. Terry and I have watched several of these people describe their journey in another show as well, so the stories were sort of a double take. Good though. If you are interested in the idea of life after death, you might want to see this film. 

Going to watch a movie at a theater also includes 40,000 commercials. I hate ads. I don't do well with them. While sitting through the ads, I brought out my phone and logged into Instagram. First thing that popped up was Matthew Perry's death. I could not believe my eyes. Broke my heart to know we lost someone else that was still fairly young. He was only 54. Police are looking into what may have been the cause. He was in a hot tub, found in his apartment. 

After the film, we were hungry. We chose Hacienda Vieja again. We figured it had been a while since Terry had cheese crawling on his chest and I thought it just sounded good. Sweet man and I ordered while munching on the warm tortilla chips and homemade salsa. While we were eating, my husband began to tease me by thrusting his hips upward and giving fist pumps along with the motion. I asked what the hell he was doing, but before a word came back, I noticed the waitress coming up from behind his bench in the booth. I began to laugh at the thought of him getting busted by her mid-thrust. 

Of course this sent us both into hysterics. Ah, my sweet man. Boys must play. But, to top off the event, Terry made me laugh even harder when he said, "Well, that was thrustus interruptus." OMG, I can't take this man anywhere! That's why I love him the most. The laughter during our days and nights together may sound childish to some, but I do enjoy it. Better than spending my days being a stiff, no fun, prudish woman who can't laugh with her husband. Each to their own, I guess. 

Mm. Salsa and chips. 

Terry looked over the menu for a while. He said he hasn't had cheese flop off his chin for quite some time. No chalupas to break tonight. He also did not want a flat taco. Settling on taquitos, we ordered. 

The camera was at the ready. I might catch something happening. It usually does. Will it make it to his mouth without any runaway cheese? 

Yes! No runaway cheese or breakage. We're happy Mexican foodies. I think he has finally found something that does not break and the queso cheese crumbled on top is holding its own. It's a beautiful thing. 

Tomorrow is Sunday, of course. One more relaxing day off before we both return to the weekly grind, as do most of you, I'm sure. Terry and I had another fun weekend together. We always find something to laugh about or to get interested in. This weekend held those same attributes that make our days off together so enjoyable. We wish you all the same in your lives. Enjoying life doesn't suck. 

Sunday, October 29, 2023

Today brings happier thoughts of being in the kitchen doing what I love to do. Sweet man has today to relax and enjoy his cigars before the work week begins. I have chosen to make Sundays my baking days. Today I am making a boule, a sourdough sandwich loaf, and a batch of those delicious biscuits. 

Cleaning day will also be Sunday. Yeah, right. Here we go again with the procrastination process. However, if I'm baking and moving around, it seems to be much easier to keep the motion going, she says as she is sitting in a fluffy, warm chair at her desk. We'll see how the day goes. 

Well readers, that's about it for the week. We are having Mallory over today if she can make it and I'm baking. That's about it. Next weekend, I do believe I will be making much smaller posts by writing about one or two days at a time. We'll see how that works. 

But in the meantime, have an awesome week! Stay safe. Be sure to hug your loved ones, friends, and pets extra hard and extra long this week. We never know how much time is left with them. You won't regret it! Be kind to yourself and to others. Take time out for you. Hugs and much love to you all. Until next weekend, bye from Terry and I. Have a fun but safe Halloween!