A Red-Letter Day! A Banner Day!

Things happen in threes, right?? Well, I'm sosososo glad to report three good things. Or..maybe two good things and one sort-of-we'll-see-what-happens thing.

1. After pestering my boss for three-plus weeks about reducing my amount of hours, the ultimatum I gave her this morning finally worked. Next week, I've only been scheduled for 28 hours. I actually have a WHOLE DAY off. My head is spinning. This is fabulous news.

2. My oldest son turned 16 about two weeks ago, and just yesterday, got his driver's license. Then, I bought my dad's 1998 Dodge Dakota pickup/rustbucket from him and bequeathed it to my son...with explicit instructions that he doesn't kill anybody or himself. My life as a taxi is about to get easier.

3. Our Amazon Echo came in the mail today...after like four months of anticipation and a special invitation from Amazon to be able to buy it. We're not usually Keep Up With The Joneses-type people...but well, there's always an exception.

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In Which I Suspect I Have Latent Tendencies...Much Like The Hulk, Or Similar

I find in most normally functioning families, the members have a distinguishing role or legacy or skill of some kind. Like, he's the smart one. Or, he's the religious one. Or...she's the glue that helps the fam together. Or, she's the savvy one, so she's the Power of Attorney. In my family, that system went something like this: My dad was The Dad. Cantankerous, crotchety, and especially tight with daughters' curfew times. Also, not a fan of driving in Big Cities. My mom was the long-suffering, patient, reserved one. My brother was the baby, the one who got away with murder, the namesake, and also, Frosty Hoarder. Me? My legacy? The Ruiner of Remote Controls. No lie. Although I've repressed the memories, my parents claim I destroyed at least two remotes in my tenure as Child Under The Roof. Remote #1: milk spillage; Remote #2: applesauce spillage. So, now you see why my younger brother was the favorite. Anyway, t...

From Government Regulations to Chicken

So, I really wanted tonight's post to be whippy and biting and highly intelligent...and I've even got the perfect topic - government wine regulations: Europe vs. the US (subtitle: European Governments Seem to Trust Their Citizens A Whole Lot More The US, Otherwise Why Don't French, et al., Wine Labels Have the Surgeon General's "Pregnant Women Should Not Drink This/This Beverage Impairs Your Brain" Warning). But, I realized that to begin a post like that, I should probably know the answer to the question, yes? Why do American wine labels include the warning, when, I don't know, isn't just common sense? A quick search of this very query lands me at Wikipedia, which is good enough for a rude overview, but nothing that indicates why it's a law in the first place. Hence, more reading is required. I hope to get to it soon. It's almost August, two-thirds of this year is nearly gone, and sometimes I feel as I am moving very, very quickly along...

Time to Refocus

Okay. I know I've got a Cratchit Christmas Dinner to recap and illustrate for you here, and I have every intention of doing so. But, first...something that's on my mind: food. You're shocked, yes? I happen to be on a short hiatus from school and work, and I admit, I have the tiniest desire to be working or studying right now. I mean, someone to crack the whip at my back. It is all so easy to fall into a lifestyle of sloth during this holiday season. I spent last weekend at my in-laws house. They live in the country + painful below-zero temps = no exercise. There's a fair amount of sitting on the couch, watching hunting shows or basketball games. I spent a lot of time in the kitchen, preparing the evening meals (and by golly, I was glad to do it). Also, my husband's mom firmly believes in three hearty, plentiful meals a day...hard to get my crowd excited about stuffed pork loin when they've just gorged on ham balls and cheesy potatoes. ...

To Thine Own Self, Be Food

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