It has been raining all morning and they've got flash flood warnings out for our area. The poor Magster just had to potty something terrible and this rain is just not acceptable. She whined and whined as if I could change the weather and finally shot out into the backyard and came flying back in. I got a big chuckle out of that until she used the couch as a towel then there was a big frown on my frowny furrowed face. Maggie has put that couch through hell. It is but a shadow of its former self.
Stay Off the Sauce, Please?
I heard a big commotion last night on George's carport as I was putting my groceries away in the kitchen. It sounded like a fight was underway. I grabbed a flashlight off my computer desk and headed out my side door -- the one facing George's house. I thought there was criminal mischief underway. Maggie was loudly sounding the alarm as well. George had fallen and was bruised up just a bit.
"Are you sure you are okay?" I asked George as he stood up. "Do I need to call the paramedics?"
"The only thing really hurt is my pride," George told me which was a very honest answer. "I was just going to sit out here for awhile and listen to the katydids."
I helped him get inside his spartanly furnished home and he plopped down in his recliner. I told him to be sure to lock the door after I had left.
Ragu Old World Traditional...
The meat sauce is on the stove. I have a simple recipe these days. I brown the ground beef and then add a big cup of water and let it bubble away and get tender. Once the water has boiled down, I add two small cans of Hunt's tomato paste (oregano, garlic, and basil), one can of Hunt's tomato sauce, and one large jar of Ragu Old World Traditional style pasta sauce (not as sweet as the other brands). This will cook for about three or four hours until I boil the thin spaghetti noodles al dente. These will be mixed into the sauce.
There is nothing like curling up in your favorite chair after adding a little Parmesan cheese to this cherished treat of mine. It is even better with some crusty and toasted french style garlic butter bread.
I am Royally Peeved at You!
"You're mad at me for being so late tonight aren't you?" my father asked me as we traversed the aisles of Kroger last night.
"You know how I hate those self-check out lanes!" I spat at him angrily.
I was also giving him the silent treatment.
"How can I be mad at you?" I finally acquiesced after telling my father I was royally peeved at him. "You do so much for me."
Dad chuckled and laughed, seemingly taking pleasure from this discourse.
