…which reminds me (though it shouldn’t) of when I actually prayed the rosary. The thought process of a 9-yr old Catholic boy went something like this: “Hail Mary, Full of Grace….gee, I wonder if Jeff wants to play baseball after lunch…?”
OK, so me and TheWife™ have always coveted shots in movies where there’s a beautiful wall of books. There’s nothing on the floor of the room (maybe it’s somebody’s personal library or study), everything is in its place.
We covet it because it’ll never happen to us. Well, maybe…but smart money is not on us. Trust me.
But just because our books are arranged “differently” (probably should have quoted “arranged” too), that doesn’t make them any less artful.
There’s nothing like having dinner outdoors in the spring. The young couple sitting next to us looked like they were having a great time. Heck, everybody was having a great time. It was warm, the beer was tasty and the sky was blue. What’s not to like?
I was reading this morning and the sun came in the window and did something special. This very same thing happened a few weeks ago. I ran to get my camera and by the time I got back it had gone behind the clouds.
A nice way to start the day, I think.
I decided to make fresh horseradish again this year. There’s nothing like it. Don’t be fooled by those jars that say things like “super hot” or “thermonuclear” on the label. Fresh is the only way to go.
So we bought a piece of root at the grocery store. It was sort of embarrassing because this randy little devil was the only one that fit our needs. The other were all gigantic. We giggled while wrapping it in a plastic bag in the produce section. Further hilarity ensued at the checkout where the slack-jawed kid didn’t know what it was. “Uh…is this a dog bone?”
Sheesh, kids these days.
Anyway, I cleaned and peeled the root this morning, chopped it up into smallish pieces, and then fired up the food processor. A tablespoon of white vinegar and pinch of salt is all it took. Hint: do NOT eat a teaspoon of this stuff directly after grinding. Yikes, I think it gave me brain damage. I can’t believe my grandmother used to grate this stuff by hand. My dad used to tell me that all of the kids would leave the house when she did that. Believe it!
The parking lot is soaking wet, pickup trucks are dripping mud and freshly-melted snow. The old gent with the cigar is operating the paper crusher. It’s the recycling center.
In the middle of all of that is a single leaf floating in a puddle.
I wish I’d had my camera with me to take a picture of the guy in the truck staring at TheWife™ while she took this shot.
You might not think that the act of making coffee has artistic aspects but hey, the world is indeed full of surprises. The french press left this interesting ring of condensation on the countertop.
Proof that my brain parts notice odd things at 6:15am.
I walked out of the house this morning and the car was covered with a very thin layer of light, cottony snow. It seems a little early for this stuff, but it sure is beautiful.
This photo was taken from our kitchen window looking out across the courtyard. The snow patterns on that wall of granite (and statue) can be quite amazing…just not this early!!!
First of all, I’m not really complaining. Dr. Clingler has done a fantastic job with my wrist. Someday, it will mostly work again.
This is a photo from yesterday morning. I had to initial my arm, and so did the doctor. Surely there’s some legal case that made this peculiar activity a pre-surgical requirement.
All I know is that it made me chuckle…and that was before the demerol.