6 posts tagged “cigar”
Sunny, 75, and a breeze out of the South.
Today was soundtracked for me by Mark Lanegan's "Whiskey for the Holy Ghost".
The wife gets back in from a D.C. business trip in a few hours.
One hour after that, the sitter will be here and we'll be off to a wine group Meetup.
In addition to vino, the wife had a recommendation for Peachy Canyon Paso robles Zinfadel which we'll look for, I'll be taking a tray of feta/beef rolls.
Since I'm all about the easy groove, I picked up a tube of pre-made croissant dough, a package of feta, and a small pouch of dried beef thinly sliced.
Roll out the dough triangles in pairs so that they form rectangles (one triangle inverted to the other).
Fill the long axis center line with crumbled feta, followed by bits of crumbled dried beef.
Roll up the dough into a long cigar shape.
A quick trip in the oven at 350 F for 12-20 minutes (depending on the instructions for your particular brand of refrigerated tube o' croissants) and Bob's your uncle. (no, really, he is.)
Then cut the rolls into app-size length bites (1/4" to 1/2") and pin them with a toothpick to aid the structural integrity (and to make them look like cute li'l bone fide apps.)
"We got apps!"
-Beautiful Girls
On the one side, there's having a beer for breakfast...
And either explaining it away (as it being a Saturday, ahem) or getting confrontational about the expressed, or anticipated expressed concern of others. It betrays that the user/abuser was looking for attention all along.
Then,
Well then there's the other side...
And you say, "What? It's Saturday? Cool, that means I can have several more as I don't have to drive eldest child to preschool today!" Meaning that the user/abuser wasn't anticipating any response at all and is simply pleased that the indulgence can, all responsibilities aside, be prolonged.
When dealing with depression, you don't need any filters.
That in mind, pass on the ciggies and go straight for the cigars.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nadir
Eldest attended her first day of Pre-school today.
Smashing success.
I didn't even cry as I dropped off my little girl.
Also my first day to have time to focus on youngest daughter.
She loved being an attention-hog.
Meanwhile, eldest rocked out and didn't want to leave her class at the end of the day.
Teacher reports that eldest is already head of her class.
Smoked a cheap cigar with good whiskey to celebrate.
Alrighty then.
The checklist upon arrival:
Me, male, thinning hair,
check.
The wife, already successful in new corporate office,
check.
Kids, two, female, aged 3 and 1,
check.
Dogs, two, female, boxers,
check.
Vehicles, two, one sedan, one pickup truck,
check.
A not insignificant, (read "crapload") of stuff inside various sized moving boxes, (seriously, you could fit a household of stuff in there)
check.
Only snafu was the rental agent and the cable guy not being able to connect with each other before we arrived.
First available makeup appointment was yesterday.
So we've actually been here for a full week before our TV had channels and my little rectangular metal box of a gateway to the rest of the cyber-world did anything aside from an impersonation of a 3 year old in timeout.
For now, I am now going to eat pizza, drink local beer, Yazoo "Dos Perros" Ale brewed downtown in a former motorworks factory, and smoke a victory cigar.
And yes, I got carded (out of state ID and all) by a sweet young thing while buying the beer at the local store.
Maybe the hair is not so thinning after all.
Later I will share anecdotes about the size and veracity of the local insectoid population and my legendary warrior prowess with the two-handed broad-swatter.
That could apply to, oh, so many things.
Let your mind wander and play with it for a while.
When you're done having your way with my words,
you may continue on your way to read the remainder.
There was an overly long period of high school, or was it college, (or both)
where my group, as a hobby, would catalog the innocent expressions, phrases, and exclamations,
that could be infused with mischievous flavor on the part of the speaker to be savored by the hearer.
Now that you're done being dirty with my blog, I'll elaborate.
The something done is the house painter.
The interior of the upstairs is now all bright, light, with nary a trace of 1970's dark wood (almost obsidian stained).
He did great work at a fair price. We'll have him back next year for the exterior.
The something that still needs to be done is the old tree in the corner of our lot.
Apparently a new coat of paint won't help it like it did the house.
I already asked the painter to bid since he was already here.
The tree won't make it to see Halloween if I have my way,
but the arborists are pretty backed up this time of year.
All goes well, it'll be gone and stump ground down below grade within two weeks.
I love trees and hate to take one down, but the crown never came back with leaves this Spring.
Probably got damaged in the freezing rain ice-storm a few years back.
It lost two large limbs directly from that and the damage eventually spread through the circulation to the point that the sap couldn't make it back up to the top to sprout new growth.
Suckers started busting out through the bark of the trunk fairly low to the ground, just because the tree energy needed somewhere to go.
Having the young'uns around and it being predictably windy here in any season, I'd rather take the whole thing down than have it linger, weakened and susceptible to losing branches at random, and the main trunk eventually.
The undomesticated woods around us are full of fallen timber that took the entire root ball out of the mushy soil with them when they toppled.
30 foot diameter discs of root and mud standing on edge at the end of brackish water that ponded in the gaping hole left by the trees ruin.
Spooky to walk amongst the giants graveyard in the ever dark filtered sunlight.
So, I will euthanize this shade tree and maybe, just maybe, be spared its ghost.
For the record, if I'm finally dubbed terminal myself, I would appreciate the same treatment.
Give me a big, fat cigar (lit) and the nicest bottle of Scotch you can find on short notice (but no ice, I take it neat), then after I pass out just slip in way too much morphine to my IV drip and be on your merry way to put my life-show opening together.
You remember the life-show, don't you?
Well, read a few blogs back and you'll see it.
The big art show after death for closure thingy.
