It took 22 years of marriage to hear the three little words I’ve been yearning to hear my husband say:
It’s cooked perfectly.
He’s been close a few times with it’s all right and it’s not bad and Chancie likes it.
But this is the first time he’s told me my chicken was cooked perfectly! I hope he’s ready. Now that I know he likes it, it will be the ONLY thing I make.
In other celebratory news, the guys in hazmat suits have carefully removed all hazardous chemicals and debris out of Link’s room making it suitable for Mario to take over. She’s received permission from her oldest brother to do so, but her dad wonders why I would let her mess up two rooms instead of just one. (Yeah – she’s keeping her room too.) I don’t think she could be any worse than Link, but that remains to be seen.
Chip seems to be doing well on his own. There’s always a concern in the back of our minds that he won’t actually GO to class, but so far he seems to be holding up his end of the deal. He’s about done with all the grown-up responsibilities of taking ownership of a *cough* new home. (Other than the slight hiccup where the electric company cut off his power due to a misunderstanding and wouldn’t turn it on til the next day, so he brought all the contents of his fridge, his two cats, and a load of laundry to the house. I didn’t mind this little misunderstanding. I got to see him again!)
Link’s had a few struggles himself – traffic jams and parking issues and expensive books to name a few. I’m pretty sure he wanted to just hole up and forget about everything, but instead he’s learning how to deal with it. Each obstacle he overcomes will hopefully make him a little more confident to handle others. And there WILL be others, I am always quick to remind him.
In fact, I have my own obstacle. I’ve placed myself on the disabled list once again. I haven’t run in over a week due to a nagging pain in my upper foot. At first I thought I had injured a toe muscle. (Do we have those?) But after a few more runs my entire foot began to ache for hours after. I had a sneaky suspicion of what it was, and after a quick trip to Dr. Web MD, it’s been confirmed. I have a stress fracture of my metatarsal bone.
The symptoms, the causes, all seem to match.
I won’t go to a real doctor to confirm it, because it doesn’t really matter. Rest is the only thing to cure it. And it could take WEEKS. Maybe even longer because I’m on my feet all day. I’m prepared mentally to stay on the DL as long as necessary. I’m well aware of what can happen if I push this type of injury. The saddest part is that I believe my new Brooks caused it. I had gone back to my loyal Nikes (brand new pair), but too little too late. Right now, they’re all gathering dust in my closet.
My mood is surprisingly good despite my setback.
I was told on Monday that my cakes not only LOOKED good, but they TASTED good too! Such a relief! My co-worker excitedly showed me pictures of the party, and claimed people were asking where she got them.
“So they might be asking you….” she said shyly. I laughed it off with “I don’t think I’m ready to undergo any more projects right now.”
In the meantime, however, a different co-worker begged for a strawberry cake “just because”. I agreed, only because I have a very easy, very tasty strawberry cake and buttercream recipe. I’ve made it enough times that it only takes a minute.
THIS is my kind of decorating. Slop it on the cake, drop a few strawberries on top, and voila! No sharp edges or smooth sides to worry about.
Okay. Gotta go now. A stretch of 6AM shifts has me hittin’ the sack pretty early these days. I think I’m getting Labor Day off, though! Vroom Vroom!