What's New Pussycat?

I survived the seven a.m. flight.

I was the second to last person to actually get ON the flight, (due to rushing through a Tim Horton's breakfast sandwich prior to boarding), but I made it.

I even survived the four o'clock rising and the five o'clock drive to the airport.

It was a long day, but it was a good day.

I've come to the wilds of Saskatchewan to visit my parents this week. Randall is driving through to Winnipeg on Friday and he'll pick  me up on his way by.

We'll be in the city for the weekend, and then head south for a little rendevous with the Granddaughter.

And her parents, of course.

It will be a good two weeks, I think, and I am excited to see that little Norah girl,... and that big Johanna girl... and their Nate...

But I am pretty sure I will be likewise very glad to get home at the end of it all.

Time for bed now.

I kind of like Old People Time...

Especially at night... when one has some sleep to catch up on...

Another One Of Those Days?

Not like the last one, where I couldn't sleep half the night.

Nearly the opposite, in fact, as I, atypically, closed my eyes just after midnight and didn't open them again until the alarm alerted me to the fact that it was time to get up.

No... one of those un-self-motivated  days.

I got a few things crossed off my list yesterday, and seem to have crossed off the will to do anything remotely productive along with them.

It's a good thing there's A Guy coming to look at a water thing at the house this morning, or I'd likely sit here in my pajamas until it was time to go to town for my daily coffee date.

As it is, with the knowledge that I have until 10:00 to be presentable and decently arrayed, I'll shuffle off to the shower momentarily.

Looks like there are a couple of good movies on TCM at least... if I clear off the shelf on the island I'll be able to see the TV from the stove... maybe the kitchen list items will get crossed off this morning after all...

Gonna Be One Of Those Days

If it isn't hard enough to put myself to bed at a reasonable hour when Himself is away,

Deciding that as the coffee in the new thermos is still hot from breakfast and should be consumed didn't make it any easier.

I was in bed a titch earlier last night than the night before, and pretty much as soon as my head hit a comfortable spot on the pillow I was asleep...

The problem was that when I woke up at 4:00, I couldn't fall back to sleep.

*sigh*

Then I made the mistake of making a list of all the things that need to be accomplished before I hit the road in a week and a half.

At least the lesson is ready for preteen this afternoon.

Maybe the best course of action would be to lock up the house, take the phone off the hook and go have a long nap until lunch time.

Yeah... maybe so...

Well... The Jury's Still Out

Blood work results today.

If I didn't have an appointment with the Diabetes Educator in a couple of weeks, I might be actively looking for a new doctor tomorrow.  We will go over my "numbers" then; today I'll take the doctor's "everything's good" to mean that I don't have to give up bacon and eggs to save my cholesterol, and that Christmas didn't kill my glucose levels.

Ah, well.

I guess I'll live.

I'll make it look like I am, anyway.

Three For Three

The French Onion Soup turned out really well.

I even managed, by opening a couple of windows and closing a couple of doors, to keep the onion smell from being too pervasive.

A short loaf of fresh French bread sliced, toasted and topped with finely grated Edam cheese, made lovely croutons to float on the soup. Two more short loaves for eating with butter completed the meal.

Most delightful.

I should see what Julia does with pork and chicken, and try something along those lines next.

Why does cooking delicious food fill me with such contentment? I don't know either, but it was an enjoyable day- even with slicing three pounds of onions thrown in for good measure.

Mm...Mmmm.

I call dibs on the leftovers!

It's Been A Long Week

On Monday, I thought it was Tuesday.



I never recovered.

OHHH! Because I Threw It Into The Back Seat...

We were in Edmonton yesterday to run a bunch of errands. Productive, but not terribly exciting, really.

While driving from one place to another in the South Commons, we drove past SuperStore which reminded me that I was out of yeast.

Driving back again, I suggested that if he drove slowly by the entrance I could jump out, duck and roll, run inside, grab the yeast (which comes in large containers there) and be back to the car before he could make a circuit of the parking lot.

So, we did that. Well, except for the ninja moves.

When he pulled up to get me again, I threw the yeast, in the SuperStore bag, onto the back seat and we continued on to the next stop.

At home, we cleaned out the trunk, and I put stuff away.

This morning I went to mix up some bread, and thought, "Right. I'm out of yeast here", so I went down to the pantry to get one of the two containers I just bought yesterday.

Trouble is, it wasn't there.

I was perplexed for a minute, and after looking all over the house for the bag that might contain the yeast, I realized that it probably got left on the back seat.

And then I realized that Micah took the car this morning.

So I pulled out a package of not-instant yeast that Hillary left here at the end of the summer, and as the yeast proofs, I give my head a shake at my forgetful self and start writing this.

About the time I got to "And then I realized that Micah took the car this morning.", I all of a sudden thought, "Wait a minute... Micah's driving the Crown Vic., and we were driving the Focus yesterday"...

So halfway through this post I realized that it was ALL a moot point because the yeast is probably sitting in the back seat of the car that's still in the garage, but having momentum, I kept writing up the story, intending, in the end, to reveal what a brain fart in my existence looks like, practically speaking.

*sigh*

I'll just get that bread mixing and then zip out to the garage, shall I?