Bowls

Today's recipe was Chicken Burrito Bowls.  I cheated a bit and didn't make the cauliflower rice, instead I used brown rice which made a zero points meal count two points.  Not a bad trade-off for not having the bother of making a head of cauliflower into rice-shaped food.  As you see the recipe makes four big servings.  I contemplated stretching them out to make six servings but didn't.  Maybe next time.



I also whipped up some chicken salad.  I didn't have any celery (I don't use it fast enough and it goes bad.) so I peeled and grated a carrot to add for crunch.  Next time I'm cutting the chicken up smaller so I can stretch the servings, maybe I'll even grind it up to make a spread.  Hm, that'd be good.





We had rain after lunch which dropped the temperature but did nothing to lower the humidity.  I've set my sights on Sunday for lawn mowing and I'm sticking to the plan.  I've been hearing thunder in the distance and they're predicting hard rain overnight.  Good.  I won't have to water the tree tomorrow.



I realized that the Hawk's Wing Shawl isn't a good project for Friday Night Knitting because I have to concentrate too hard.  I'd just end up screwing up and have to rip back so I found a pattern for a log cabin cloth, pulled out some yarn, and cast on.  It's garter stitch (knit all the time) which I won't have to think too hard about.  That'll be better for Zoom knitting tomorrow.



I saw some orange when I looked at the garden this morning and went out to find that the Butterfly Weed that I planted last year came back.  It's a native plant and supposed to be a perennial but it had never come back before.  Hooray!

09 July--Barbara Malcolm, Tropical Obsession.

It took another hour and another pitcher of lemonade before Rooibos was convinced that Sam and Maxi did not know Jack Spencer or have anything to do with his death, accidental or not.  He thanked them for their cooperation and asked them politely not to leave the island without contacting him. 

Being told not to leave twice in one day when he had no intention of leaving made Sam start to fire up again. 

Maxi silenced him with a gentle hand on his thigh.  She thanked the Detective Inspector and assured him that they were at his disposal. 

“Could you have been any smarmier?” Sam asked as Rooibos drove away. 

“Smarmier?  Is that even a word?  And what, pray tell, does it mean?” she said, hands on hips, never a good sign. 

“It means you practically licked his boots.  It means you were so nice I feel like I need an insulin shot.” 

Sam stood up so fast he knocked his chair over. 

“Oh really?” Maxi stood too, her face pink and her teeth gritted.  “Since when do we have anything to hide from the police?  Is there something you are not telling me about your past?  Hmmm?”  She leaned closer to him and peered into his eyes until he flinched. 

He backed off and stammered a bit.  “Well, no, not really.  I guess I just… Well, I did not like being grilled again about things we know nothing about.” 

“And you thought you would try on some movie tough guy role?  Sam, I thought you were a better man.”  She looked at him and shook her head, and then she gathered the empty pitcher and glasses and wet napkins onto her tray and carried it into the kitchen. 

As he drove away Rooibos mentally drew a line through the Clarks on his list of suspects.  He was convinced that they did not have anything to do with the killing of Jack Spencer.  Neither Sam nor Maxi Clark had so much as flinched when he told them the name of the deceased and he did not think that either of them, Sam especially, was that good at hiding things.

Today's toss was a stack of soup crocks, you know, those brown bowls with one handle and a fish-shaped platter.  I have lots of "fish" things and they're all going.  I don't entertain enough to give it all house room and the way this pandemic is going I think it'll be a long time before it's safe to have people over.  Grr.
--Barbara