Showing posts with label bacon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bacon. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Can Things Get Any Worse?!
Every day I wake up to pain. This is old news of course. And now I've got these ridiculous blood clots surfing my veins and incomprehensible bleeding in what is left of my brain. Yeah, I've got much to whine about physically speaking.
Much to cry about and wallow in self pity. But, yes, it has become worse!
Lead story of the local news is a bacon shortage in our area!
Why, why, why?! Who is trying to kill me now? If chocolate goes next...well, there will no be reason to live!
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Humdinger
Every single day I'm loving this little spot more and more. If I could walk I'd be sweeping, dusting, and rearranging like I had never done before. Sadly everything below waist level is very difficult. Using my sweet carpet sweeper takes hours to complete one hall runner.
But every single day seems a bit of joy. The bedroom window is the best and least expensive form of entertainment I'd discovered. Yesterday the cooking aromas were transporting me yet again. Bacon crispy. Garlic potatoes. Peach pie or coffee cake. And, oh man! grilled hot dogs. I was tempted to carry a sign outside: "Will sing for your leftovers!"
High school friend visited bringing a frothy, chocolaty, whip creamy, chilly beverage. Yummy! And I'm sure I am the only American who has never spent $5.00 on fancy schmancy take out coffee. Now I know why everyone does! She stayed hours into the dark. She risked letting her husband make his own dinner and we talked about our childhood similarities and spiritual beliefs. What a gift.
Able to give a birthday present to Sister. And Son helped hang the prototype bedroom curtain. Both successful. Good day. Thanks.
But every single day seems a bit of joy. The bedroom window is the best and least expensive form of entertainment I'd discovered. Yesterday the cooking aromas were transporting me yet again. Bacon crispy. Garlic potatoes. Peach pie or coffee cake. And, oh man! grilled hot dogs. I was tempted to carry a sign outside: "Will sing for your leftovers!"
High school friend visited bringing a frothy, chocolaty, whip creamy, chilly beverage. Yummy! And I'm sure I am the only American who has never spent $5.00 on fancy schmancy take out coffee. Now I know why everyone does! She stayed hours into the dark. She risked letting her husband make his own dinner and we talked about our childhood similarities and spiritual beliefs. What a gift.
Able to give a birthday present to Sister. And Son helped hang the prototype bedroom curtain. Both successful. Good day. Thanks.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Caint
All shampooed and showered and off to the Big Box. The beets I grew as foliage (and stunning foliage it was!) are finally spent and so I decided to treat myself to some potted herbs. Rosemary for chicken. Sage to make fake sausage of ground turkey. Mint because it has one of the best, cleanest fragrances in the flora kingdom. And because I think I'm going to add fresh mint to some of my new smoothies
Replenishing yoghurt and cheese when I happen upon tubes of chorizo. Reasonably priced and within reach of my gimpified self. When I was a young married, I used to shop at a teeny Mexican grocery. There was an actual butcher. He'd hack off a chunk of ground chuck and a half pound lump of chorizo and grind them together before my very eyes. Made the best grilling burgers I have ever tasted.
Since then I have read Eating Animals and learned how the last edible dregs are literally exploded off a hog's face. It's a hideous procedure and the men (and it was always men in the book) get sick and die or get killed when the machine, with its many knives, misfires. I have also learned from Hannibal Rising that cheek meat of any beast is the most tender.
So......in the aisle, at the Big Box, I turned over the chorizo tubes and actually dared to read the ingredient list. "Pork salivary glands, lymph nodes, and cheek meat." Uh Oh.
These might be delicacies in other cultures or on other planets, but I very nearly retched. I replaced the tubes of alleged human food (yes, my perception changed that quickly) and I sped off. God bless the electric carts.
Cheese and crackers for me tonight, thanks.
Replenishing yoghurt and cheese when I happen upon tubes of chorizo. Reasonably priced and within reach of my gimpified self. When I was a young married, I used to shop at a teeny Mexican grocery. There was an actual butcher. He'd hack off a chunk of ground chuck and a half pound lump of chorizo and grind them together before my very eyes. Made the best grilling burgers I have ever tasted.
Since then I have read Eating Animals and learned how the last edible dregs are literally exploded off a hog's face. It's a hideous procedure and the men (and it was always men in the book) get sick and die or get killed when the machine, with its many knives, misfires. I have also learned from Hannibal Rising that cheek meat of any beast is the most tender.
So......in the aisle, at the Big Box, I turned over the chorizo tubes and actually dared to read the ingredient list. "Pork salivary glands, lymph nodes, and cheek meat." Uh Oh.
These might be delicacies in other cultures or on other planets, but I very nearly retched. I replaced the tubes of alleged human food (yes, my perception changed that quickly) and I sped off. God bless the electric carts.
Cheese and crackers for me tonight, thanks.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Not Mine
Monday was always the day I considered the beginning of the week.
Because of the emphasis on school, I'm sure, Sunday was relegated to the "prep" day. Once the visits to my grandparents who all lived in the Big City tapered off, Sunday was just the day to get through.
Church, of course. 6:30 Crack of Dawn Mass if there were any parental plans for the day. 12:15 if a late start had happened. There were a lot of us to prepare, much less cram into the car. These were the days before panty hose and dresses most assuredly were required. Dolling up six girls of various ages was time consuming. This was not always a total drag. Once a week reason to feel fancy. Hats on female heads. Pay attention to the sermon because on Monday Fr. Joyce would show up and grill the class on its content.
Breakfast was different on Sunday, too. Bacon was fried. Toast was toasted. Juice was poured. Children sat at the table. Week days breakfast was a grab of whatever was on the table while dashing thru with clean clothes for the day. Juice and cereal usually. Saturdays? Cereal in front of the TV in the den maybe. Seemed OK to me.
But Sunday? That ended the week. After Church chores were done and homework was completed. Relatives might visit but everything tapered off so the kids could go to bed at a reasonable hour because of school the next day. When I raised my own children we didn't attend any organized religious services; but I thought of Sunday as the end of the week.
I still do. And I think maybe that's another way the world is divided. Cat people/dog people?
Because of the emphasis on school, I'm sure, Sunday was relegated to the "prep" day. Once the visits to my grandparents who all lived in the Big City tapered off, Sunday was just the day to get through.
Church, of course. 6:30 Crack of Dawn Mass if there were any parental plans for the day. 12:15 if a late start had happened. There were a lot of us to prepare, much less cram into the car. These were the days before panty hose and dresses most assuredly were required. Dolling up six girls of various ages was time consuming. This was not always a total drag. Once a week reason to feel fancy. Hats on female heads. Pay attention to the sermon because on Monday Fr. Joyce would show up and grill the class on its content.
Breakfast was different on Sunday, too. Bacon was fried. Toast was toasted. Juice was poured. Children sat at the table. Week days breakfast was a grab of whatever was on the table while dashing thru with clean clothes for the day. Juice and cereal usually. Saturdays? Cereal in front of the TV in the den maybe. Seemed OK to me.
But Sunday? That ended the week. After Church chores were done and homework was completed. Relatives might visit but everything tapered off so the kids could go to bed at a reasonable hour because of school the next day. When I raised my own children we didn't attend any organized religious services; but I thought of Sunday as the end of the week.
I still do. And I think maybe that's another way the world is divided. Cat people/dog people?
Saturday, January 28, 2012
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