Picture Sunday

Hello, end of weekenders! Yes, it's back, and it's badder than ever - Picture Sunday.

I'd decided I really needed a serious Friday chill because my past two weeks had been so busy. Now, why that also made me decide that Friday Chill Pizza wasn't on the menu and a homemade quesedilla burger was, I've no idea. But that's what I decided.

So I spent about an hour making a very nice burger, trimming it, dressing it, cutting it in half, putting it on a flour tortilla along with some pico de gallo, I baked up a few onion rings, and sat down for a nice dinner. I ended up eating one onion ring and one half of a half of the burger, then couldn't eat anymore. And ended up throwing the rest away.

And that, my fine feathereds, is precisely why I hate to cook.

A fun Hucklebug recording on Friday, then I slept a little and got up on Saturday to get the house, which had then become not so much a house as a hovel over the past weeks, into some sort of order, because Mr M was coming down for dinner, movies, and clarinetting.

Got the house straightened up, and Mr M arrived. We had (well, I did, anyway) fun playing for a while, then headed to Applebees and had a fun dinner, then came home for a little more clarinetting before settling in for movies. As I was at my desk printing some music files, the phone rang.

It was my dad.

Mom was sick. I told him he knew the drill, 911, and he said he'd give it a half-hour to make sure it was the same old complaint, but I could tell it was. He called back, had called 911, and I had to usher a very sleepy Mr M out the door and onto the road while I headed to the emergency room with Mom and Dad.

We were there from about 8pm to past 1:30. They kept her. I was tired, I was frustrated, I was worked up because, you know, the emergency room isn't the emergency room. It's the slow room.

Anyway, I dropped Dad off at home and headed back to the Poderosa. I was keyed up, and finally fell off to sleep around dawn.

Then up today, running Dad to the hospital, home to get dressed, a quick trip to find a birthday present for my sister, and to the hospital to see Mom, where I stayed a few hours.

And so the merry-go-round starts to turn again.

Anyway, I still have a couple of pictures, for if I didn't, we'd have a Pictureless Sunday.

We all hate unnecessary quotation marks, don't we? I know I do, and I'm not sure I've met anyone who doesn't. Well, our first picture comes from a spot of prominence right in my little town. I don't know who ordered this, or who made it, or who approved it once it was done.

There's a famous football player named Ahmad Bradshaw. He plays for the New York Giants, and played in their Super Bowl victory. Well, Mr Bradshaw just happens to be from B'field. He played at the local high school, my alma mater, and still has family here and comes back on a regular basis. I don't know him, but those who do say he's still a regular guy.

Anyway, a few months ago the town decided to advertise the fact that we do indeed have a famous son. Why they chose to do it in such a shoddy way is beyond me.
























Yes! "Ahmad Bradshaw!" It's not a character he plays on TV, guys, it's his name.

My next picture comes from our local Lowe's. See, after dinner last night, Mr M and I went to Lowe's to walk off the food and so I could do some storm door shopping. I desperately need a new storm door for the front of the Poderosa, since I had to break into my house one day when the lock on the storm door wouldn't work. I won't be able to open my front door in the summer until I get a new one.

After I browsed and kind of decided which one I'll buy, we pulled out into the parking lot, and I asked Mr M to take a turn around the side of the parking lot where all the outbuildings were displayed. I'm really sick of the little outbuilding in my back yard, and though I can't afford a new one, I still wanted to look. I mean, a girl can dream, can't she?

But Mr M decided that I needed not a new shed, but this little item also displayed in the lot.

























He said it would be great for playing Abu Ghraib. I agreed, and said it would also be great for when he came to visit, and I could put him out there and make up a meat loaf and mashed potatoes and take it out there for him to have dinner. I love a good game of prison.

And now, ladies and gents, the recipe du jour.

Who doesn't like candy? Well, nobody doesn't like candy, that's what I say. Unless the candy comes from the recipe card collection, of course, in which case you might want to save your quarters for a Snickers bar. So from the "Quick Dishes" file in cardland, please say hello to the Fiesta Candies.




















OK, this is a rather innocent looking picture, right? You've got some dark brown stuff, you've got some light brown stuff, it looks a little bit like bumpy fudge. Well, the bumps are where the vileness of the recipe comes in. For both of these candies contain - corn chips.

Now, I've eaten cookies made with corn flakes, and they're fine, but corn chips? That's just wrong. Especially when the corn chips are covered with chocolate and marshmallows. And raisins! Raisins! I hate raisins in cookies, especially in cookies that contain corn chips. The little bastards.

Happy week.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* In case you weren't around on Friday, I'm still encouraging everyone to head to the Comfy Chair Cinema and check out my latest movie. I'm getting rather shameless about it, but I worked a long time on it and want everyone to have a chance to see it. Thanks.