Saturday Slow News Day

Well, I cooked dinner. That's a first in several days, but (thank you, Lord!) my 'extra' back pain has lessened for the past two days, so I figured I'd give it a shot.

I cooked the last of the green beans from the garden. Husband and I picked them last evening. They were a surprise, because we figured we'd already seen the last of them.

One lone tomato and one lone cucumber were left, which we ate, too.

The only reason I feel sad that fall is a'comin', is because I won't have good, fresh tomatoes from the garden. Ain't much better eatin' than that.

Other news: Eli caught a baby blue tail lizard in the sun room. Husband said it looked about done for, but he caught it and took it out to the rose garden. Hope it revives.

Daughter ain't happy. Don't know why, but say a little prayer for her.

Husband did a lot of yard work early this morning. This is BIG news! Ha!

Okay, I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel in the news department.

Over and out.

Ask me

Ask me what I had for dinner day before yesterday.

I'll answer, "A tomato sandwich and green beans."

Ask me what I had for supper night before last.

I'll answer, "A tomato sandwich and green beans."

Ask me what I had for dinner yesterday.

I'll answer, " A tomato sandwich and green beans."

Now, I love them both. Truly I do.

But I 'bout kissed husbands feet when he brought supper home last night, which was not a tomato sandwich and green beans.

Having a crick down your back, which meets with the lower back pain one lives with, can put a damper on cooking.

So, ask me what I'm having for dinner today....

Sins at the table

I thought I was going to have to take a trip to the local ER the other evening due to an accidental overdose of green beans.

Daughter wasn't home. There were "a few" leftovers. Green beans specifically.

Husband said, "There aren't enough for both of us. You can have them and I'll open a can of soup beans."

I was giddy with greed.

You see, those particular type of green beans are my favorite. They are full of shell beans, and when cooked get almost a mushy soup beany flavor, but not quite, because of course, they are green beans.

And I ate enough for two people.

And I suffered.

Lawd, how I suffered.

I truly felt like something might have to come up before I could ever have peace again.

What was I thinking?

Did I truly believe I could get away with such gluttony?

I mean, after all, it was green beans, not cheese cake or chocolate pie.

But, as they say, even too much of a good thing isn't.

And it wasn't.

Lesson learned, right?

Nope I did it again, today, just a few hours ago.

Somebody call an ambulance.

I don't think I'm gonna make it this time.

This N That

I been stringin beans. It's been 'specially difficult because they are cookin on the stove whilst I string 'em.

No, I didn't see a new method on Pinterest. For some reason, no matter how many times I look 'em, no matter how many times I sift and stare as I rinse the beans, there are always strings in the cooking pot.

Why is that?

Now, I cook beans for a long time on top of the stove because I don't have a pressure cooker. You wouldn't either if you'd had Kate for a grandmother. Trust me on this.

One time she was pressuring green beans and got to talkin to Mertis on the phone, (which, back then was connected by cord to the wall; you didn't walk around when you talked) and lost track of time. When the pressure cooker blew up, and it certainly did, good sized beans had shot out through that teeny tiny hole on top of the cooker and had embedded themselves in the ceiling.

She thought it was funny. My granddaddy, not so much. I guess he's the one who paid for repairs. It had to be done; embedded green beans in the kitchen ceiling is just not attractive.

This wasn't the only time she blew stuff up; but it is the most memorable.

I swore off pressure cookers as a child.

Another thing: when you have been married a long time,  you have conversations like Husband and I had earlier today:

Husband sang a line of a song (of course several hours have passed and I don't remember which song exactly).

Anyway, I said, "I can just hear that guy singing that."

Husband: "Andy Williams?"

Me: "No, Steve somebody."

Husband: "Oh, Robert Goulet!"

Me: "That's him!"

I've also inferred or blatantly said that husband is absent minded. The following is a shining example.

Some weeks ago lightning struck something that we thought was the router to the computer, so Husband purchased another one. That didn't help, so Husband called Computer Man. When the symptoms were described he said it was the modem and we needed to call the phone company to get it replaced.

Which we did.

Two weeks ago, lighting again struck something to do with our computers.

Before I go further, yes, yes, yes, we have a surge protector.

Let me tell you what the lightning says here at the end of the power line on the ridge of this mountain. It says, "Ha to you, surge protector!" That's what lightning says.

This time it was the router.

But we had outsmarted Mother Nature! We had a brand spankin new one! Ha!

Husband hurried to the box he had carefully marked "NEW WI-FI ROUTER" so it would be easy to locate.

And, as  you probably already know, the router wasn't in the box.

Husband looked "everywhere"(I know, obviously not everywhere), but couldn't find it.

I tried to be kind. I tried to not point out we had JUST purchased it. I tried to not ask how could he lose something that thoroughly that quickly.

Night before last I was out in the studio waiting my turn at my computer because Daughter was using it for "just a minute". My computer is the only one directly connected to the modem or some such nonsense. There's always a line waiting, sort of like in a women's public restroom.

I happen to glance down at Husband's desk. And sitting there, right in front of the monitor, was the Wi-Fi router. Just sitting there. Nothing hiding it. Nothing.

I walk back in the house and casually hand it to Husband and ask, "What's this?" All innocent like.

His face lit up. I almost didn't have the heart to tell him where it was. I said almost. But I didn't gloat. I didn't complain. I just asked him to hook stuff up.

He did.

Now, this next little story: Is it passive aggressive behavior or just that absent minded thing again?

Other Brother called to talk and the subject matter was interesting to Husband apparently, as he was  eavesdropping. I was walking around, chatting and rambled on out to the back porch. Husband followed me, listening.

After a few minutes, Husband decided he'd heard enough and went back in the house, closing the door behind him. I heard a click. He'd locked me out of the house!

I banged on the door, while Other Brother said, "You both need keepers."

Husband came to the door, saying he forgot. Forgot? Hmmmm.

Passive aggressive behavior or absent mindedness.

You decide, Dear Reader. You decide.