You just sit there and make goofy faces and take pictures of yourself in a random, blissfully self-centred way, on your MOTHER’S COMPUTER, when you KNOW she blogs!? Like I never did that. It’s an unflattering eye, though.
I had a brief and bloody battle with myself, but I owe it to the world to post this picture. The other five pictures Katie took have seductive beauty and offhand exhaustion, and one of THE WORST CASES of Milton Berle mouth, ever. But you shall never see them, ho ho!
You may perhaps be wondering why the hell I speak in such detail of my meals. As stated in the raison d’etre of this blog, I write for my mother, and she is continuously wonderstruck and pleased that her abiding distaste, which accompanies her essential competence, for cooking, has not passed to me, and that I actually cook. Yeah, I get tired every once in a while, but I always climb back on the horse.
This is what I mades for dinner. Leftover pork roast with sauerkraut. Oh, life’s hard. Salad with salt, pepper, half a teaspoon of olive oil, a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar, about a heaping tablespoon of finely chopped red onion, one whole Early Girl tomato, organically grown by Paul’s neighbour, and one whole finely chopped red pepper. Damn, it was fine. And I made homemade gravy and the first yorkshire pudding I’ve made in many a long year. Damn, that was fine too! Wrong sized pan but I’ll fix it next time…. or double the recipe. What you can do with eggs, sir, what you can do with them!
Katie finished her homework and watched some NCIS and then left.
I’m feeding Kopper tomorrow.
