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same_skyOur kitchen cabinets now have handles on the doors! We had thirty-three cabinets and drawers and it drove me crazy that none of them had handles. There were a few handles laying around in the basement, but not enough for the whole kitchen. I was dreading the purchase of the things because I knew it would cost a fortune to do the whole kitchen, but my dad bought a set of about fifty at a yard sale. Brand new, in brass. This was also good because left to our own devices, M and I are much more likely to buy something in silver, and part of the reason we hadn't done it was because silver, contemporary handles would actually look a little weird in our very traditional-style oak kitchen. And he did the laundry room (four cabinets) while he was at it. We were talking about my dad, and the projects that we would like him to help us complete when next he comes down with an eye to do something productive. M mentioned that he thought Dad was going to want to help put those up because of things he had said at various times, and he (M) could really do that without Dad's help, so he'd rather Dad help with something he couldn't do on his own. (My dad is super-handy with pretty much everything home repair. Except, my mom would point out, drywall.) So, I pointed out that... he could solve this problem by doing it himself first! And, he totally fell for it. I love my boy, I really do.
(We were talking about the perceptions you get from people's journals at some point. I said that I made myself sound emotionally unstable--much more so than I actually am, I promise. I'm afraid I make M sound patient and a touch stupid. He's not, dear internets, he really is very sharp, I promise. He's just extra big on the patient part and lets me get away with putting my own twist on everything. We are pretty well matched on the smarts. Which is almost always fun except for when it is really annoying, and that is when we are arguing about something and he is winning because I was (as it turns out) clearly wrong. Man, I hate that.)
Anyway, we did get a few things taken off the to-do list, then, which always makes the weekend better. Last night, we had to go visit family in Pseudonymous Hometown, so that took three hours of driving (both ways). My cousin was in visiting from North Carolina and so we had to go seeher her baby. And conveniently, she was craving going out to eat at a local type of place which is the very one that I am always missing about Pseudonymous Hometown--it's closed on Sundays, which happen to be the days we are usually in town. That kind of helped take the annoyance out of the commute. Oh, who am I kidding? I usually sleep in the car on the way back so I guess I can't complain too much. I kind of wish I would stop doing that because it is horribly uncomfortable. But M rides home the entire time with his right hand holding my head upright so I won't have a crick in my neck. I have told him that he doesn't have to do that but honestly, y'all, I'm pretty sure he enjoys the sensitive husband gig. (I certainly do.)
And now I need to go check on the ribs. This is another thing that I wish I hadn't learned to love this summer, and certainly one that I wish I hadn't started cooking at home. Too easy, much too easy. Purchase: country-style pork ribs, preferably on sale. Don't worry about the fat, it'll mostly melt off. Season with salt, pepper, seasoning salt and lemon-pepper. Put in roasting pan, cover with sauce. (Prepare sauce using a bottle or so of prepared barbecue sauce, a chopped onion, possibly a chopped green pepper.. really, whatever you think sounds good.) Bake, covered in foil, at 350 for a long time... two and a half hours or until you get so hungry you can't stand it anymore. Turn them and baste a little every hour or so. The meat will fall apart when done. Eat with some sort of potatoes, enjoy your clogged arteries. (Keep in mind that the sauce should be used sparingly at this point, because it now contains a pound of pork fat. Yum!) I'm just glad that it takes so darned long because it really means that it is at MOST a weekend food, and in this household, we have a self-imposed rule against having it two weekends in a row, too.
(We were talking about the perceptions you get from people's journals at some point. I said that I made myself sound emotionally unstable--much more so than I actually am, I promise. I'm afraid I make M sound patient and a touch stupid. He's not, dear internets, he really is very sharp, I promise. He's just extra big on the patient part and lets me get away with putting my own twist on everything. We are pretty well matched on the smarts. Which is almost always fun except for when it is really annoying, and that is when we are arguing about something and he is winning because I was (as it turns out) clearly wrong. Man, I hate that.)
Anyway, we did get a few things taken off the to-do list, then, which always makes the weekend better. Last night, we had to go visit family in Pseudonymous Hometown, so that took three hours of driving (both ways). My cousin was in visiting from North Carolina and so we had to go see
And now I need to go check on the ribs. This is another thing that I wish I hadn't learned to love this summer, and certainly one that I wish I hadn't started cooking at home. Too easy, much too easy. Purchase: country-style pork ribs, preferably on sale. Don't worry about the fat, it'll mostly melt off. Season with salt, pepper, seasoning salt and lemon-pepper. Put in roasting pan, cover with sauce. (Prepare sauce using a bottle or so of prepared barbecue sauce, a chopped onion, possibly a chopped green pepper.. really, whatever you think sounds good.) Bake, covered in foil, at 350 for a long time... two and a half hours or until you get so hungry you can't stand it anymore. Turn them and baste a little every hour or so. The meat will fall apart when done. Eat with some sort of potatoes, enjoy your clogged arteries. (Keep in mind that the sauce should be used sparingly at this point, because it now contains a pound of pork fat. Yum!) I'm just glad that it takes so darned long because it really means that it is at MOST a weekend food, and in this household, we have a self-imposed rule against having it two weekends in a row, too.
