I was so excited to see a loaf of artisan Jalapeno Cheddar bread on the "used bread" rack at Woodman's yesterday and then my darling Durwood sliced it nice and thin for me (I suck at slicing bread, my slices are too wide and wonky, Durwood's are thin and straight) so I toasted up 3 sandwiches-worth this morning while I portioned out provolone cheese slices and Cajun turkey lunchmeat, counted out 18 baby carrots (6/day), and spooned out 3 individual cups of fresh strawberries & pineapple for this week's lunches. (can you tell that my maiden name was Angermeier? how much more German/regimented could I be?) I do much better all week if I take the time on the weekend or Monday morning to portion out and bag up my lunch for the 3 days I work. I'm pretty spacey in the mornings (except, of course, for writing on the blog, here I'm sharp as a tack *snort* not) and there have been (recent) times when I've picked up my keys to leave only to realize that I didn't have a lunch either in my possession or in the work fridge. I'd end up calling Jimmy Johns most of the time, so it's better for my wallet and my nutrition to make my own lunches. I make a sandwich each day so the bread doesn't get soggy; I have a jar of honey mustard at work already.
I went out to weed and admire my row of basil and thyme plants and saw this little bunch of Sugary cherry tomatoes sheltering in the plant. I need to get the tomato stakes in the ground so I can start to tie up the plants, they're starting to get a bit sprawl-ish. I'll get them staked and tied so they stand tall like they're supposed to. (see? Germanic rigidity; it's important) I also got the kitchen and bathroom floors mopped and managed to nearly kill myself on the bathroom doorknob (I mopped behind the door, opened it wide and it bounced back just as I moved to pass it, thereby ramming the knob firmly into my hip/butt. man, that hurt. it still kind of hurts, but it's just a bruise. bet it'll be pretty colors, don't worry, no pictures are forthcoming)
We spent 2 hours in Woodman's looking at all the goodies, buying a bunch, then we stopped at Little Caesar's for one of the $5 lunch combos (a quartered square of deep dish pepperoni & cheese pizza with a soda; I picked root beer) that we shared for lunch. It was pretty good but waaaaay too much food for one person for lunch which is their implication. In fact we skipped supper. Granted we didn't eat lunch until after 2 PM but still that was a lot. We're old. Remember when we'd have that for a snack and then chow down on a full meal 3 hours later? Those days are long gone. Thank heavens.
I didn't quite get through the second 16-row repeat of the Icelandic hat but I got pretty far. I'll work on it at work today.
June 23--Egypt, Sculptor's Model, Goddess or Queen. Tiye stood behind the column. Her mother was talking to her uncle Ptah about marrying her off to some Nubian from up the river to cement some trade agreement. "She is nearing her woman days, we need to get this settled," Mother said. Ptah rubbed a hand over his chin. "Little Tiye can't be that old, it wasn't so long ago that she was playing in the courtyard with my Leila." "And your Leila is a wife and mother this last year." Mother had a tone of voice that kept people from arguing. Tiye heard their voices fade as they walked away down the hall toward the reception rooms. Tiye slid down the column to sit on the cool stone floor. From behind the next column a voice said, "I won't let them send you off to live with some Nubian barbarian." She dashed the tears from her cheeks and smiled at her cousin. "What can you do, Ptol? You're just a kid they boss around, like me." Ptolemy was a tall, thin boy whose voice had just changed. "Well," he said, sitting beside her, "I'm going to be Pharaoh so you can marry me and stay here. Pharaoh always has extra wives so you wouldn't be alone or have to live far away."
Yikes. It's another dreary, drizzly day. Maybe I'll wear a skirt to cheer myself up. I'm outta here.