Monday, March 13, 2017

Baked projectiles


The daffodils and blooming shrubs are covered with about 2 inches of very wet snow, and I suspect the lizards that have been sunning themselves on the foundations of the house and the porch will once again retreat back to where they go when the temperature is too cold.

This too will pass, of course. It will be in the mid 60s in a couple of days.

He has split the biscuit with a fork around the edge and added blackberry fruit spread to each half. But instead of just picking the biscuit halves and eating them, he begins using the edge of his fork to cut each half in half and eats it that way. With a fork.

Then, a piece of biscuit that he is trying to cut in half shoots out from under the fork and smacks into the plastic bowl of the salad spinner at the edge of the table, leaving a purple smear. He wipes that off with his finger and licks it (no point in wasting good fruit spread). 

Why don't you just pick up the biscuit with your fingers? Why do you have to eat it with a fork? 

With a fork? he says. I need a jackhammer. 

And then begins to laugh, spears the biscuit on his fork and starts eating it and making exaggerated chewing motions.

This is like eating hardtack, he says. 

When I was having dinner with my brother and his wife in November and commented on the wonderful biscuits they served, he said "Bisquick," and then this sweet man sent us a box of Bisquick for Christmas. The biscuits "made from the box" were wonderful, but the Bisquick is gone and Richard is adamant that he does not want to eat "store-bought biscuits." 

So we are back to "same-old same-old"  Just another exciting Sunday morning breakfast, where jaws get the exercise.

Saturday, March 04, 2017

...in which I am somewhat embarrassed

A family--husband, wife, and son--that recently moved here from Houston has been coming to church for a while, and I arranged to have lunch with the wife, Sue, on Friday. Her birthday is coming up, and I decided before I left to meet her at the restaurant that I would pay for her meal as a present. I grabbed a bill out of the envelope of cash I had just gotten from the bank to cover day-to-day expenses for the next couple of months, which had eight $20 bills and one $10 bill, and stuck it in my pocket.

I don’t carry a purse around town, so that was all I had.

Sue arrived, and I told her I would pay for our food in honor of her birthday. When the cashier gave us the total ($16 and change), I handed her the bill. And she stood there holding it, looking expectant, and repeated the amount, and I said “I gave you a $20,” and she said, “No, you gave me a $10” and she held it up. Sure enough. I had managed to miss all of the $20 bills in the envelope and instead pulled out $10.

Sue stepped into the breach, whipped out her credit card, and said “and we will put the rest of the cost on this…”

Eventually I knew I needed to shut up and stop apologizing, so I did, and we went on to have a pleasant lunch together.

How embarrassed was I? Had a hole opened in the floor, I would have happily crawled in and pulled the linoleum back down on top.

But I have learned a lesson. The next time I decide to do this, I will actually look at what I have in my hand.