Posted tagged ‘sandwich’

“Fine, but if and when the zombies team up with the mummies to take over the world, you can’t live in my underground bunker.”

June 24, 2017

The air is damp and chilly. The day is so dark that Gracie’s lights came on when she was in the backyard. There is a constant breeze which sometimes blows hard enough to be a wind. It is not an inviting day. The birds sang earlier, but they are gone now. Everything is quiet. Gracie is in her crate sleeping. Maddie is standing under the table lamp getting warm. Her fur is hot to the touch. Animals know how to tbe comfortable.

I have to get more dog food so I’ll be going out later. Other than that, my dance card is empty. I did my laundry yesterday, a huge accomplishment for me as I usually leave it in the hall long enough for the dirty clothes to double in number. I do admit, though, that the clean clothes didn’t make it upstairs yet. They’re on a living room chair. They’ll go up today, maybe.

I fell asleep early last night. The TV and all the lights were left on until about 1:30 when I woke up. I then took Gracie out to pee. I couldn’t even see the house next door in the deep darkness.

Oops, my lights just went out for a minute, long enough that I have to reset appliances and my cable box has to reboot. It has also started raining. At first it was a mist, but it’s now a heavy rain. I can hear it against the windows, and I can see a sheet of rain falling off the eaves outside my den window. The day has become even less inviting.

Last night I made a divine supper sandwich. I toasted English muffins, slathered them with guacamole and then added tomatoes, bacon, and eggs. Every bite was delicious though a bit messy. I blame that on the eggs.

I wonder how much longer the zombie fad will last. It took a while for the undead to take over from vampires, but they did, big time. I’m figuring animals, as in The Zoo, are the next threat to humanity’s survival, but, if that doesn’t work, we can always go back to hostile aliens. They never go out of style.

 

“Money is better than poverty, if only for financial reasons.”

February 23, 2017

Gracie and I were out and about yesterday. The weather was amazing. It was sunny and warm: sweatshirt weather. Today is much the same, and Gracie and I have a few errands: buying canned dog food at Agway, a few storage bins at Benny’s and my favorite sandwich at Buckies, number 14: bacon and cheddar with tomatoes, avocado, and horseradish sauce on a panini. Life is good.

Snow is still around on corners and in the shade, but it is warm enough that I can leave my inside doors open to the storm doors. Gracie goes in and out her dog door, and, best of all, she gets to watch the doings on the street from the front door. She sits and looks hoping for a bit of activity. Every now and then she barks. I check, and usually it’s someone walking a dog. Gracie does not like dogs walking on her street and makes no bones about it.

I have a new bird feeder, a bag of sunflower seeds, and two packs of suet. Cleaning the older feeders and filling them is on my to-do list for later. Loading my shotgun to attend to the spawns of Satan is next on the list (okay, I don’t have a gun, but I do wish the spawns would disappear).

I haven’t used real money in a while. The 3 dollars in my wallet are weeks old. Mostly I use my ATM to pay for stuff though sometimes I do use my credit card, mostly at the pharmacy. I don’t write many checks anymore. I pay my bills on line or have the amounts automatically deducted. I don’t really need much money. It seems to have gone out of style.

When I went to Ghana last fall, I brought some cash but mostly I used my ATM to get money as no one in the markets, the small stores and kiosks or the sides of the road take other than cash. I did use my ATM card at Zaina Lodge and my credit card in one large shop by the ocean in Accra. Money still counts in Ghana. I kept a pocketful.

Gracie is giving me the paw, her signal that it’s time to eat. I doubt she’ll accept that I have none left so I need to get going. Gracie want to eat!

“Nothing compares to the simple pleasure of riding a bike.”

April 11, 2015

When I woke up, I noticed the sun, subdued and wan. I figured it had been so long since the sun last shined it had forgotten how to wow us, to make us squint in the light. The streets were still wet and were waiting for a bit of warmth to dry three days of rain, and I was hopeful the sun could finally hold sway. After getting the papers, I stood outside to check my garden. Green shoots are everywhere. They are the start of my spring bulbs finally growing and budding. Gracie has been in the yard most of the morning. She is my barometer. The warmer the weather the longer she is out.

When I was a kid, this was a bicycle day, a spring jacket sort of day. It was freedom from layers of clothing and from looking wistfully out the picture window. It was time to fly my bike down the hill with my hair blowing and my arms raised in a funny sort of triumph. It was time to pedal as fast as I could hoping to leave winter behind me.

I loved riding all over town on a sunny Saturday. Sometimes I’d bring lunch and put it in my bike’s big front basket. Once in a while I’d hit a bump and my lunch bag would bounce in the basket. Sometimes it bounced out. I usually brought Oreos for dessert. They were the cookies of choice for all of us. I remember my sisters would eat the middle and give the dog the rest. My method was a bit different. I’d open the Oreo, eat the plain side then the filling then the other side with streaks of filling still left.

Last night I watched the Sox beat the Yankees in a game which seemed interminable. It lasted 19 innings, 6 hours and 49 minutes, and is now the longest game in Red Sox history. I’d tell myself I’m going to bed after this inning, but I just couldn’t bring myself to turn off the TV. What if I miss the winning run after all this time? Both teams were horrible last year. The Yanks didn’t make the playoffs and the Sox were last, but they seem to play each other as if a championship is on the line. During extra innings, when a Sox player got on base, I’d beg for someone to hit him in so I could go to bed. Finally a Mookie Betts sacrifice fly knocked in the winning run. I cheered then held my breath during the bottom half of the inning. The Yanks didn’t score so I let the dog out, waited for her to come in, turned off the lights and went to bed.