Picture Sunday

Hello, end of weekenders, and welcome to this week's edition of Picture Sunday.

Damn. What a week. I'm with Stennie, who said in her blog, and I quote, without permission, but I doubt she'll hurt me: "The only wrapping I'd like to do with this week is wrapping it up in duct tape, attaching weights to it, and dumping it into the ocean somewhere where I would not have to see it again." Amen, Stennie.

I spent Friday night here at the Pod, mostly cleaning. It wasn't bad, though - sometimes there can be a certain relaxing chill in cleaning. It's not all about watching movies, you know. I had some coffee, and ended up at the computer at about 1 am playing Text Twist. It was then I decided that I needed to celebrate the end of what's been, if not the worst week of my life, certainly the worst I can remember. (What am I saying. It was the worst.) And I started drinking wine. Got good and buzzed, and finally crawled off to bed around 3:30.

Goodbye, week.

I went to Mr M's, Poderosa East, on Saturday, and it was my first trip back to B'burg since this all happened. I got off at my exit and went straight to campus. I knew I'd end up there at some point in the weekend, sooner or later, and so I decided I'd make it sooner and get it out of the way.

It was such a beautiful day here yesterday, it was like the gods were telling us to start anew. The campus was packed with people. Most of the media had gone away, off to cover the mishaps of other people's lives, and I took a short walk around the drill field. It was an oddly lovely sight. Flowers at the War Memorial, on one end of the drill field, and at the main memorial, which was at the edge just across from Burruss Hall. (Burruss Hall was the first place I ever saw Squeeze, and Elvis Costello, more years ago than I'd like to admit.) There were tents set up, some I didn't have the slightest idea why, others gave shade to boards where people could write messages. Then there were more boards at other spots on the field, and the individual memorials, a single stone for each victim. People had left not only flowers, but beads, trinkets, letters, pennants. It was sobering.

Although people were snapping photos, I didn't. I didn't feel right about it. But it was eerie. It just doesn't feel like the same place. It's odd standing on grounds you've been upon many times and knowing something of this magnitude has happened there. I can't even imagine how that feeling of eeriness must be multiplied for the students. But still, it's only been a few days. I hope it changes.

Anyway, I'm glad I went, it was a good way to wrap up the week and let it go.

At Mr M's, it was business as usual. A nice dinner out, clarinet duets, a movie, and playing with Alice the kitty, who only implanted one hole in my leg. That was this morning. Went birthday shopping (for my friend, workmate, and mother figure San), and saw Jacob. I hadn't seen her in close to a year. We talked for a while about Dad, and about the newly-announced Hackensaw Boys gig in R'noke.

Yes, the event that's already causing a growing hinkiness here in Betland. See, Mr M is giving a clarinet recital in June, he's been planning this forever, and I'm going to be a part of it, for one duet anyway, unless he decides I'm unworthy or I faint before the time comes. But the Hackensaws have had the incredibly bad taste to schedule their R'noke concert the same night of the recital. Mr M says there's no way he's rescheduling the recital (yes, I asked, even with the puppy-dog eyes, which are not nearly as good as Taytie's puppy-dog eyes), and so now I'm trying to wrangle a way to see the recital, play in the recital, hit the road, and see the Boys. It's still 6 weeks away, so I'll have more planning time, but I think it can be done.

Then back home, and to all my Sunday tasks. Weekends are so short.

You know, having a friend like Mr M has its advantages. Searing honesty, good conversation, nice gifts, kicks in the ass, free clarinet lessons. However, there are also the artistic advantages. Those of you who have seen the Mr M wing of the Galerie de Chien et Garcon at The Comfy Chair know what I'm talking about.

For about the past two weeks, Mr M's been sending me pictures. I thought I'd use some of them to make up this week's Picture Sunday.

It all started with my Podmate, Huckleberry Hound.





















Mr M told me that sometimes Huckie gets a little tired of being a blue dog. He's generally a very happy sort, and wonders if people think he's often sad and depressed because he's blue. So Mr M got on the stick and gave him a few previews of what he might look like if he decides to change colors.

First they thought about white. But decided very quickly that he'd be confused with Quick Draw McGraw.





















Yellow? Looks naked to me. Naked Huckie, naked Huckie!





















Neon's great. He looks very Andy Warhol.





















Neon's so chic. But how about green? Green is just not Huckie. What is he, an apple?





















Finally, here's what Huckie would look like if he drank an entire bottle of Pepto-Bismol, which is certainly a possibility, what with his nervous stomach and all.





















Peptoberry Hound.

Finally, Peabody convinced Huckie that blue is the color for him. I mean, how many blue dogs are there around? It's distinctive, it's unique - it's him.

In fact, Peabody himself decided to get into the act.












And never one to be left out, so did Sherman.





















This one's a little unnerving. What with the expression on his face, he looks like he's very low on air.

See? You got pictures, didn't you! And my camera wasn't out of the overnight bag one single time.

But how about a recipe? Oh, yes, we have a recipe.

Actually, this recipe idea has been rumbling around in my head for so long you wouldn't believe it. When I was first deciding to do to my own recipes after the recipe cards ran out, I made a short list of about three things I could make. This was one of them, and why it never got made, I've no idea. But today is the day. Yes, we have rock lobster. We have rock salt, and rock candy, and the Hard Rock Cafe. So from the "Wake-You-Up Breakfasts" file at cardland, please say hello to this week's recipe du jour, the Rock Omelette.





















If you can make an omelette and have access to gravels, this is the dish for you. And I can, and I do. All you do is make up a tasty omelette, throw in some gravels, and you've got a breakfast you're fully aware of chewing, no matter how sleepy you may be. As an added attraction, I threw in some dirt and sticks from the driveway beside my house (where the gravels came from), but if you're one of those "neat freaks," you may leave them out.

I think I'll feed this to Huckie and see how quickly he becomes pink. From the Pepto.

Happy week.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Well, it's with crossed fingers that I'll be pushing the "publish" button tonight. Once again, when opening blogger, I had no choice but to sign up for the new blogger. Remember what happened the last time I did this? Lost my archives, lost my blog - lost my mind. It seems to have gone smoother at the beginning stages, but the test will be in what happens when I publish.