Tag: blogging

Planning the Thanksgiving Meal

Do you ever wonder how Pilgrim women managed to plan and prepare a dinner party for 30 guests or more without the benefit of a grocery store and modern appliances? Yeah, me neither. It’s difficult for me to wrap my head around such concepts, so I don’t even try.

Heck, I struggle to plan and execute a big meal for two people, and I’ve got easy access to several grocery stores, a microwave, a double oven, and a refrigerator/freezer. God certainly knew what She was doing by placing me in this century. I’d have made a lousy pioneer woman.

Nevertheless, I have gathered all of the ingredients necessary to have a turkey dinner with each of Studly Doright’s favorite side dishes. The cornbread for our dressing will need to be baked on Wednesday, as will the pecan pie. Then I’ll need to hide the pecan pie for a period not less than 24 hours or Studly will consume it all before Thanksgiving dinner has even been served. I know this from previous experience.

I’ll rise early on Thursday morning to get the turkey in to bake and then try my best to get all of the side dishes ready to serve when the turkey is done. Since it’s just the two of us for dinner this year I expect everything will turn out perfectly. No one will believe I cooked a stellar meal even though Studly will sing my praises for months. They’ll think he doth protest too much. Maybe he doth.

Peace, people.

There’s a Nap in My Future

I had everything and nothing to write about this morning. The whole world is a story, but I was having difficulty scraping off a little piece for myself.

Should I write about Studly arising before sunrise to play golf and not realizing until he’d already had a second cup of coffee that his clock was wrong and his golf match wasn’t set to start for another two hours? His parting words were, “I’m going to need a nap this afternoon.”

How about my disorganized trip to the grocery store to buy Thanksgiving dinner supplies? My list was sort of complete, but standing in the middle of the dairy aisle I realized I’d forgotten to plan for a dessert. Thank goodness the Karo syrup bottle has my pecan pie recipe printed on the label.

Should I write about how darn cold it is and how I’m curled up on the couch under three blankets with a hot cup of tea in my hand watching the arguably forgettable film, Pacific Rim?

I believe I’ll just write something about not knowing what to write. And then I’m taking a nap with Studly.

Peace, people.

How to Ruin a Day

Yep. That’s my car in front. The guy in back came in too hot and rear-ended me at a stoplight. His car is stuck on my trailer hitch, so we had to maneuver out of traffic hooked together. Dammit.

Now we’re waiting on a tow truck to come unhook our vehicles. The police officer on duty only asked the driver of the other car what happened. I had to ask the officer if he wanted to hear what happened from my perspective.

“You got rear ended,” he said.

No shit, I thought, but didn’t say.

Now we’re waiting on a tow truck to pull us apart. Sigh.

Peace, people.

Hot Toddy Lunch

This morning I had a massage at the Aveda Institute in Tallahassee. I’d booked it months ago and totally forgotten about it. Thank goodness for iPhone and appointment reminders. The massage was delicious and relaxing. Twice I dozed off, and that’s a rare thing for me. Afterwards I walked next door to The Hobbit All-American Grill on Pensacola Street.

Now, the temperature in Tallahassee was 49° when I entered The Hobbit. I’d just come from being snuggled under a warm blanket in the spa. I was shivering when I sat at the bar.

I asked if they had any coffee brewed, thinking I’d warm up that way. But there was no coffee to be had. Then Armando, my new best friend/bartender, asked if I might like a hot toddy. Without hesitation I said, “Yes, sir!”

Hot toddies are my go-to when I have a cold, and I don’t think I’ve ever had one other than when I’m sick, but it hit the spot today. I feel a bit decadent having one for lunch on a weekday, but I’m a whole lot warmer.

Peace, people!

Laundry Question

I was away from home for exactly one week while Studly Doright stayed home with the cats. For my trip, I packed two pairs of jeans, five blouses, and undergarments. Having done some laundry while visiting in my daughter’s home, I returned to Doright Manor with just one blouse, a pair of jeans, and a couple of unmentionable items to be laundered. Everything else went right into the closet.

Studly, on the other hand, seems to have worn every single button down shirt he owns along with half a dozen golf shirts, ten t-shirts, and at least a dozen pants/shorts. It appears that he must’ve come home midday, every day I was gone to change shirts. Or maybe he wore two shirts at a time for a ridiculous layered look. Who knows? It’s like a math story problem:

If a woman goes out of town for one week and leaves her husband to fend for himself, how many loads of laundry will that husband do in her absence?

a) 1/2

b) 1/8

c) 0

d) 1 million

Peace, people.

Planted in Peoria

Today I was supposed to fly home to Florida from my daughter’s home in Illinois. My flight was scheduled for 11:28 a.m., and being somewhat anal about the whole two-hour pre-flight arrival time I checked in at, you guessed it, 9:28.

As I sat at the gate reading I received two texts in quick succession. The first pushed the flight back to noon, the second moved it forward to 11:40. No biggie. I’d still have plenty of time to make my connecting flight in Atlanta.

The flight arrived and we boarded the small commuter plane. I’d begun reading my book and barely noticed that the flight attendant was speaking. It seemed our plane needed some parts–parts that weren’t on hand, and even if they had been, there was no one available to install them.

We deplaned and now it looks doubtful that I’ll make it home tonight. They are attempting to send us a new plane (not NEW new, but new to us), but it will have to come from Burlington, VT. So, the current departure time is either five or six or maybe four or never, depending on who one asks.

The Peoria airport is pleasant, but tiny. It’s not like airports in Minneapolis or Orlando or Chicago that are basically shopping malls that accommodate air travel. I’ve already eaten at the only cafe twice and shopped at the lone shop three times. Who knows? By the time I leave the shop might have a completely new inventory.

Okay, I’m going to get up and walk. Maybe I’ll shop again.

Peace, people.

Musings from an Airport

Wondering why…

I rushed to the airport this morning only to have my flight delayed not once, but twice.

The guy who looks like an accountant is carrying a badass guitar case. Is this a new trend? Buttoned-down Rock? Calculator Cool?

The lady beside me can snore with such abandon in a bright, public space when I have trouble sleeping in a quiet, darkened room.

Some people wear their pajamas to the airport. Seriously? Don’t they know this isn’t Walmart?

I ate something spicy for breakfast. 😳

Flying seemed like such a good idea when I planned this trip. I could’ve been well down the road by now.

Peace, people!

A Little Tied Up

I didn’t write anything yesterday, but I asked my granddaughter to sub for me and she did so admirably. Today I totally spaced out and got nothing written. But, I did take the grand dog to get a pedicure, and I drove our grandson to play practice, and in just a few minutes I’m leaving to escort the youngest grandchild to her hip hop dance class.

My visit with my daughter’s family in western Illinois comes to an end tomorrow, and I’ll miss being with her and my grands. I’ve been a little tied up here, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.