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There was chicken about to turn yesterday, which I could have Foreman grilled, though at two breast halves at a time takes a bit of standing about, or dashing back to the kitchen to mind. But H had StY pound a quarter of them into thin medallions, and braised them with white wine, pine nuts, and capers in some marvelous bottled sauce he found, Papa Lonnie's. He made rice *his* way, which is sticky and crusty, but he prefers it to the way I fix it (which is light and fluffy. But I didn't have to fix it, did I?). And he steamed it with rosemary in, when I prefer it plain, and toss whatever you like on it afterward. But with the chicken, it was marvelous.
The rest of the chicken he cooked in BBQ sauce till it fell apart, and we're making sandwiches as desired, warm or cold, with or without coleslaw. Num.mee.
In other news, we saw War of the Worlds yesterday, and I didn't mind the Tom too awfully much. It was a big badda boom of a movie, and nice violent fun for a summer afternoon. Then we watched Gothika from Netflix, and I didn't mind the Halle too much. It was a day rich in forbearance.
Today I cut my hair. H helped me with the back. I may have actually gotten it too short. In fact I can say with positive assertion that it is unflatteringly too short. But it will grow, and can be reshaped. Or I may tire of the maintenance of short hair and let it grow out, till I tire of it again. I think longingly of the simplicity of clippers every other week.
We watched The Rundown (also from Netflix) with The Rock, and I do wish he'd just relent and bill himself as Dwayne Johnson. He may become a decent actor, with time and application. I certainly enjoy his screen persona, and he knows how to hold a camera, yes he does. Plus, Ernie Reyes, Jr.! All I could think of in the fight scene where his character goes beserker was, "It's the attack of Eddie Munster!" in awe of his speed and fury. Plus, the abs, the abs, oh my.
We have not made sufficient progress on the Great Clearing of the House for me to find a usable corner for the stationary bike, nor the minitramp. The only floor area large enough to spread the yoga mat where I can see the tv while my yogilates dvds are playing is right in the middle of the most public room, and I live with two adult male type people who are continually passing through this area. I just haven't had the chutzpah to put the mat down and damn do the exercises while they're passing through and kibbitzing. I have made space in my day for the vitamin regimen, although I told the doc it would not include the niacin, in apparently non-arguable enough terms that he didn't press it. I've stuck more or less to the multi-small-meal plan, and mostly to the correct foodstuffs. With the specific-to-summer lapse that I have a small serving of Breyers full-fat non-diet ice cream for at least one "meal", and often two. With cooler weather that will cease. Of course there's at least two more months of heat, so...the Breyers people will not go bankrupt till then. And frankly? I can't seem to care.
Between the meat-or-egg, the two or three veg, the one or two fruit, the nuts, the cheese, and the ice cream, I haven't gotten hungry enough or run out of "meals" to get to the protein-powder and Barleans greens "shakes" the doc wanted me to have daily. I haven't tried either, and frankly they sound nasty. I can't think they'd make sufficient difference, but I will eventually try them. I haven't been to the pool at the Y, either. I found a swimsuit, but I can't get motivated to dress, drive (or ride with H when he goes), swim, shower, dress, and run around erranding with H. Maybe in the fall.
I'm singularly unmotivated. But then I always am in heat--my line has always been, "I feel like just clinging to a wall and sucking air" like a damned lizard. And speaking of which, my toad has disappeared. I haven't seen him in weeks. I hope he found his way down to the ground, and not in the gullet of a passing bird. I miss him, but he'd probably bake in the hottest part of the days if he was still on the deck somewhere. I'm tired of summer.
The rest of the chicken he cooked in BBQ sauce till it fell apart, and we're making sandwiches as desired, warm or cold, with or without coleslaw. Num.mee.
In other news, we saw War of the Worlds yesterday, and I didn't mind the Tom too awfully much. It was a big badda boom of a movie, and nice violent fun for a summer afternoon. Then we watched Gothika from Netflix, and I didn't mind the Halle too much. It was a day rich in forbearance.
Today I cut my hair. H helped me with the back. I may have actually gotten it too short. In fact I can say with positive assertion that it is unflatteringly too short. But it will grow, and can be reshaped. Or I may tire of the maintenance of short hair and let it grow out, till I tire of it again. I think longingly of the simplicity of clippers every other week.
We watched The Rundown (also from Netflix) with The Rock, and I do wish he'd just relent and bill himself as Dwayne Johnson. He may become a decent actor, with time and application. I certainly enjoy his screen persona, and he knows how to hold a camera, yes he does. Plus, Ernie Reyes, Jr.! All I could think of in the fight scene where his character goes beserker was, "It's the attack of Eddie Munster!" in awe of his speed and fury. Plus, the abs, the abs, oh my.
We have not made sufficient progress on the Great Clearing of the House for me to find a usable corner for the stationary bike, nor the minitramp. The only floor area large enough to spread the yoga mat where I can see the tv while my yogilates dvds are playing is right in the middle of the most public room, and I live with two adult male type people who are continually passing through this area. I just haven't had the chutzpah to put the mat down and damn do the exercises while they're passing through and kibbitzing. I have made space in my day for the vitamin regimen, although I told the doc it would not include the niacin, in apparently non-arguable enough terms that he didn't press it. I've stuck more or less to the multi-small-meal plan, and mostly to the correct foodstuffs. With the specific-to-summer lapse that I have a small serving of Breyers full-fat non-diet ice cream for at least one "meal", and often two. With cooler weather that will cease. Of course there's at least two more months of heat, so...the Breyers people will not go bankrupt till then. And frankly? I can't seem to care.
Between the meat-or-egg, the two or three veg, the one or two fruit, the nuts, the cheese, and the ice cream, I haven't gotten hungry enough or run out of "meals" to get to the protein-powder and Barleans greens "shakes" the doc wanted me to have daily. I haven't tried either, and frankly they sound nasty. I can't think they'd make sufficient difference, but I will eventually try them. I haven't been to the pool at the Y, either. I found a swimsuit, but I can't get motivated to dress, drive (or ride with H when he goes), swim, shower, dress, and run around erranding with H. Maybe in the fall.
I'm singularly unmotivated. But then I always am in heat--my line has always been, "I feel like just clinging to a wall and sucking air" like a damned lizard. And speaking of which, my toad has disappeared. I haven't seen him in weeks. I hope he found his way down to the ground, and not in the gullet of a passing bird. I miss him, but he'd probably bake in the hottest part of the days if he was still on the deck somewhere. I'm tired of summer.
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From:
no subject
Good thoughts for Mr. Toad having enough sense to find a cool spot of shade.
From:
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Come! Watch dvds! It'll be fun! And if you come when it's cooler, we can sit out on the deck and talk for hours, or run around town like craxy nutters and do stuff.