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Going Nowhere

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The proof is in the pork chops 2001-06-18 12:36 a.m. I've got an appointment with my primary care doc tomorrow to have a look-see at this stupid hand. None too soon. I hope she can actually recommend something herself instead of having to refer me to someone else. The pain woke me up about four times in the night and I had to sleep with my hand wrapped around an ice pack. Stupid bitch hand. I tried using just my right hand to do my morning routine and spilled coffee grounds all over the kitchen counter. Everything else went pretty okay though. Of course, I cheated the whole time.

It was great to have the girls back home last night. They were mighty worn out, but Deb was able to tempt them out of their bed with this ...

platter o'chops

loaded up plate

Talk about an offer you can't refuse. That's pork chops with tomato and butter sauce, mashed potatoes, fried green tomatoes, and french cut green beans. I really wish I could invite everybody to have dinner with us. It's a good time. Sara said that if you set out to design a PMS cure ice cream flavor, we couldn't have done any better than the chocolate with brownie chunks we had last night. Then we started trying to figure out how to add the necessary salt factor. We figured you could either salt the rim of the bowl like a margarita glass, or top the ice cream with dark chocolate covered salted pretzels from some place the girls always rave about when they go to Philly or Jersey.

Yesterday afternoon I was fortunate enough to catch sight of Deb, wearing her apron, dancing in the kitchen to Smashmouth while she cooked. Had a big "My God, I love that woman" moment.

-==[]==-

I get to play with Bryce software this afternoon and see if I can get the hang of it enough to edit a tutorial that uses Bryce. I've always wanted to make those cool mountains and stuff, but have no idea what I'd use them for.

-==[]==-

I finally spotted the owner of the vacant house next door. He's put up a For Rent sign, and a cute Mexican-looking family came to look at the place on Saturday while I was mowing lawns. The dad looked like an older version of Jake's handsome brother. Then there was mom-type, teenage daughter, pubescent son, and baby.

The homeowner (I'm assuming, since he showed the place) is a black guy maybe in his 40s and had a big, brand new, expensive pick-up truck. I didn't get a chance to talk to him. He loses points for not stopping to say hello to me and introducing himself. 'Course, I was in just a sports bra and shorts at the time, so he might have been frightened, or temporarily blinded by my pale belly and needing to seek immediate medical help.

We need to call the number on the sign and see how much he's renting it for.

-==[]==-

Moving on - 12:11 p.m. , 2007-08-14

Where the hell have I been? - 12:10 p.m. , 2007-02-19

Holy shit! - 2:24 p.m. , 2006-01-11

Stuffing recipe - 6:17 p.m. , 2005-12-13

Good Life Update - 10:22 a.m. , 2005-11-11

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