In the latest round of Investment Cooking. I made French Onion Salisbury Steaks for supper; we split one serving and I froze the other three. I know it sounds like it's not enough to eat but it's so tasty and so rich that half a "steak" with the cheese toast under it and a scoop of the luscious onion sauce over it is plenty. I'd like to eat a whole one just because it tastes so good but know I'd feel bloated and overfull. Better to leave my taste buds clamoring for more than spend the rest of the evening feeling slightly ooky, right?
I got the front flower bed of the renter's side weeded (only took about 20 minutes), then I pounded in the stakes for the 4 tomato plants. When I was tying them up I noticed the first 2 tiny tomatoes on the Sweet 100 plant. They're tiny, green, and hard as rocks but one day in the not too distant future they'll be edible tomatoes. Yippee! I'll probably be a nice person and let Durwood eat the first ones but after that all bets are off.
Dad's roses are blooming like crazy and there are lots of lily buds getting ready to pop, but I noticed when I took the picture that the mum against the house right behind the roses thinks it's time for it to bloom. Not so fast, chrysanthemum. I'll be lopping off the top half of it, flowers and all, so it thickens up and waits until the proper time to bloom. Tsk. What is it thinking of, blooming in June? Mums bloom in the autumn, not the first day of summer. Tsk.
The other day I took a big bag of peelings over for the chickens. Here's my thanks. I am inordinately eager to go over to visit them and collect a couple eggs. Chickens aren't really friendly, pet-type animals and they sure as heck aren't clean and tidy but I like 'em. I do. Don't know why.
June 22--Portlock Productions, 529. Louie sat up as straight as he could. The inner tube that kept him afloat heated up in the sun so he touched it as little as possible. He had tried hanging by his arms with his legs dangling but he got too cold and small fish nibbled at his leg hairs which drove him nuts. He was glad to be shipwrecked in the Great Lakes instead of the ocean. At least he didn't have to worry about sharks. By now he should have seen a boat but he hadn't. Lake Michigan was long and narrow with Chicago at the south end so he'd always imagined a steady stream of freighters sailing up and down the lake. Where were the big ships? For that matter, where were the fishing boats and pleasure craft? It was getting dark and the wind was picking up. He was losing his sense of adventure and was more than ready to be rescued.
Whoa, it's darkening up outside like it's puckering up to rain. Maybe I'll dig out my umbrella before I go into work. I might even carry it in with me. And I remembered to pack my lunch so I won't be making an emergency Jimmy John's call today. Whew. I'm off... and not only that, I'm leaving. Bwa-ha-ha-ha!