it's really nothing

X flew out to the great Northwest over the weekend to visit a dear friend and family. From what I gathered at the pick-up this morning (and our hookey playing for a long breakfast), everything went swimmingly.

I manned the fort for four days and no one seemed worse for wear. I did finally finish painting the living room ceiling - though I'd prefer a platfrom to lie down upon, like Michalangelo - but you can't have everything. The finished ceiling is also courtesy of Green Day, who kept me going through three full rounds of Uno!. You wouldn't imagine Billie Joe painting ceilings, but he's not a bad sidekick.

I decided on Saturday morning to make a big pot of Brunswick Stew for dinner - who doesn't want to shop for smoked ham hocks? If you don't know of The Stew, here's the background:

1. Came from Virginia
2. Or, came from South Carolina
3. Has a bunch of southern ingredents in it

You're welcome, I saved you this step.

Ham hocks, whole chicken, onions, corn, tomato sauce, tomatoes, okra, potatoes, chicken stock, Worchestshire, hot sauce, seasonings, and cooking.

What I really needed was a huge cast iron kettle/pot that I could hang from some sort of tripod over a fire in the front yard. As it was, I managed with soup pots on the stove. I should have done some cornbread, but we made due with fresh dinner rolls from Wegman's. The kids ate. They are ate-n again tonight as the adults (one very tired one) expose themselves to the (normal) failure of Quiz Night.

On Saturday I visited a therapeutic massage school near the house. They have a four-month, full-time program that my vet benefits will pay for (much like my culinary training). I think I might give it a go in September. I don't want to do it as a career, but X can get unlimited massages. What a deal, right?

I have nothing more to give...

t