I am presently having lunch.
I am apparently eating, among other things such as actual penne and oregano, “natural beef crumbles" - an oxymoronic-sounding sort of ingredient that includes sea salt, which seems to me a little too classy of a thing to bother including in something called “natural beef crumbles”.
According to the box from which I extracted my meal, I am experiencing an “authentically flavored Italian meal” that also “heats up in 90 seconds” (which it did). But I suspect there are a lot of authentic Italian people who would disagree with the box.
The box also says that I can enjoy this meal anywhere including on picnics, on patios, and in lunchrooms, but I’ll tell you exactly what I’m NOT going to be eating on a picnic: cabbage. And also anything with “natural beef crumbles” in it.
Saturday, February 21
Saturday, February 14
valentines day
Happy Valentines Day! I hope you all woke up to mountains of roses and piles of chocolates. Or at least opened your eyes to your man/woman/child/pet/and/or/plants and thought, "I'm so happy to have this man/woman/child/pet/plant in my life. Let's celebrate our love with omelets and lots and lots of bacon! Except for those of us who don't eat meat!" And I also hope you don't have to go to work in six minutes, like I do. Unless you're one of my students. In which case you get Valentines cupcakes to make it all better. Yay!
Monday, February 9
flashback to last week
It's no almond cake, but it is...BAKED SHRIMP! I made this last night - baked shrimp in Chipotle Sauce - and it made a totally cozy, wonderful meal. More like Baked Shrimp in Butter Sauce with Some Chipotle Also. But whatever.
Doesn't "baked shrimp" sound horrible? It didn't occur to me until I typed it in just there. Good thing I made it last night before blogging about it, because it was not horrible at all. In fact, it was the perfect meal to lay out on the coffee table on a cold night - plate of spicy, buttery shrimp, bowl of sauce, careful arrangements of sliced bread. Add a glass of wine, some 1940s Big Band music, a good kerosene heater, and a dog for a footrest - oh, and be sure to take the following day off - and you've got yourself the ultimate comfort food.
Doesn't "baked shrimp" sound horrible? It didn't occur to me until I typed it in just there. Good thing I made it last night before blogging about it, because it was not horrible at all. In fact, it was the perfect meal to lay out on the coffee table on a cold night - plate of spicy, buttery shrimp, bowl of sauce, careful arrangements of sliced bread. Add a glass of wine, some 1940s Big Band music, a good kerosene heater, and a dog for a footrest - oh, and be sure to take the following day off - and you've got yourself the ultimate comfort food.
Tuesday, February 3
ball-throwing systems
We have some elaborate systems set up around here. One of our systems is set up to facilitate ball-throwing. Playing ball with Lila involves a minimum of three balls. Playing ball with Lila is a lot like what I understand juggling to be, although we drew the line at involving large flaming knives after that one incident back in September.
With many dogs, I have been led to believe, ball-throwing goes more or less like this: Human throws ball. Dog chases ball. Dog returns to human with ball. Human and dog exchange love. Human throws ball. Etc. No system necessary. The natural order of things retains its integrity.
At our house, ball-throwing goes like this: Human attempts to snatch ball away from dog in order to initiate game of ball-throwing. Dog acts like human is attempting to steal dog's kidneys. Dog runs away with ball. Human sighs. Human goes into the house to find second ball. Human returns to yard. Human throws second ball. Dog chases second ball. Dog, being natural predator, easily catches up with second ball but refuses to drop first ball so cannot pick up second ball. Human sighs. Human runs across yard to retrieve second ball. Human throws second ball. Human yells "Drop it!". Dog drops first ball. Dog chases second ball. First ball becomes lodged deep in the heart of a prickly pear. Dog wanders around distant end of yard with second ball firmly between teeth. Human yells "Come!". Dog snorts in derision. Human searches for third ball. Human approaches dog. Human yells "Drop it!". Dog drops second ball. Human throws third ball. Dog chases third ball. Dog sees birds. Dog loses all interest in third ball. Dog barks at birds. Human drops to the ground in exhaustion. Birds exit yard. Dog retrieves third ball. Dog approaches human with third ball in mouth. Dog wags tail vigorously, attempting to entice human into a game of ball-throwing. Human sighs.
It's a complicated system, but it works for us. Sometimes we consider re-introducing the large flaming knives to our games of ball-throwing, but usually we're too tired to get up off the ground and go make it happen.
With many dogs, I have been led to believe, ball-throwing goes more or less like this: Human throws ball. Dog chases ball. Dog returns to human with ball. Human and dog exchange love. Human throws ball. Etc. No system necessary. The natural order of things retains its integrity.
At our house, ball-throwing goes like this: Human attempts to snatch ball away from dog in order to initiate game of ball-throwing. Dog acts like human is attempting to steal dog's kidneys. Dog runs away with ball. Human sighs. Human goes into the house to find second ball. Human returns to yard. Human throws second ball. Dog chases second ball. Dog, being natural predator, easily catches up with second ball but refuses to drop first ball so cannot pick up second ball. Human sighs. Human runs across yard to retrieve second ball. Human throws second ball. Human yells "Drop it!". Dog drops first ball. Dog chases second ball. First ball becomes lodged deep in the heart of a prickly pear. Dog wanders around distant end of yard with second ball firmly between teeth. Human yells "Come!". Dog snorts in derision. Human searches for third ball. Human approaches dog. Human yells "Drop it!". Dog drops second ball. Human throws third ball. Dog chases third ball. Dog sees birds. Dog loses all interest in third ball. Dog barks at birds. Human drops to the ground in exhaustion. Birds exit yard. Dog retrieves third ball. Dog approaches human with third ball in mouth. Dog wags tail vigorously, attempting to entice human into a game of ball-throwing. Human sighs.
It's a complicated system, but it works for us. Sometimes we consider re-introducing the large flaming knives to our games of ball-throwing, but usually we're too tired to get up off the ground and go make it happen.
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