Today's Recipe

This morning I went to the grocery with my supplies list and started this month's episode of Investment Cooking in the afternoon.  Today's recipe was Sheet Pan Sausage & Veggies.  I've made this the last few times but it's so easy and so good.  I love the Never Any Chicken Italian sausages from ALDI that I use; so tasty and reasonable.  While it roasted I made a batch of brown rice so I could scoop out 1/3 cup to put on top of each serving so that every container is a full meal.  Brilliant.  This time around I dug out my favorite seven recipes so I should have a full month of meals or maybe more.  I should probably make soup too.  Or chicken salad.  Hmm.



I was happy to see that the daisies and bee balm are both in bloom (with the purple of the spiderwort below).  I love when they're together, the red fireworks of the bee balm and the white petals of the daisies, it makes me smile.



My one cucumber is growing fast.  Look at that, it's at least three inches long.  Better keep an eye on it.  Pretty soon I'll have a cuke salad for supper.

Every time I look at the tomato plant there are more on there.  They're all still hard and green but I look at them and see potential.  I see BLTs in my future.  I wonder if they have low fat bacon... I know there's turkey bacon...





06 July--Barbara Malcolm, Tropical Obsession. 

Just before two o’clock he drove down south of the airport into Belnem, the neighborhood where Happy Holiday Homes was situated and where Sam and Maxi Clark (“Cluck” retorted his mind and he struggled not to laugh.  Lord, he hoped he would not say “Cluck” when he met them.  That would be rude, not to mention unprofessional.)  He stopped first at the office to speak with Louise and her husband Mel.  They had slowly built their little enclave of bungalows over the last twenty years and they were very popular with visitors who did not require a pool or a bar or restaurant, who just wanted to pretend for a week or a month that they lived in this diver’s paradise.  After his short visit with Louise and Mel in the office, Detective Inspector Rooibos pulled his unmarked official car across the access road to the back bungalows and parked across the gravel drive next to Mel’s workshop.  He could see the front of the orange bungalow from there and noticed that the bedroom drapes were drawn.  He smiled to think that the Clark’s (Cluck, he swallowed an involuntary snort) had so quickly acquired the old-fashioned habit of taking a siesta in the hottest part of the day. 

Backing his car into the wedge of shade cast by the workshop and getting ready to wait until there were signs of life in the bungalow across the way, he looked up to see a middle-aged woman opening the drapes.  She was talking to someone he could not see and as she opened the windows, he could hear the smile in her voice.  Within minutes a man a few years older than the woman came out the front door of the bungalow and stood looking at the birds clustered around the saucer of sugar on the short wall separating the patio from the crushed coral lawn.  Rooibos thought he detected the self-satisfied look of a man who had just enjoyed more than a nap with his wife in the cool dimness of their bedroom.  Rooibos hated to break that mood, but he had a murderer to find, and quickly. 

He rolled down the passenger window of his car so that it would not be an oven when he returned from interviewing Mr. and Mrs. Clark (Cluck. He shuddered).  In order to present a more friendly appearance he removed his sport coat and tie and laid them carefully on the back seat.  He unbuttoned the collar button of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves.  He smiled at himself.  When he was not on duty, casual meant cotton slacks and a tee shirt or polo shirt, he did not know where he had gotten the feeling that he could not do a good job fighting crime and catching criminals when he was not in a tie and jacket.  Casual was much cooler.

Sam Clark watched the man cross the parking area toward him.  He knew that the code of conduct in the Caribbean decreed that a visitor stop at the gate of the property and give the people inside the chance to make themselves presentable, do a little tidying up, or in extreme cases pretend not to be home.  Sam stood his ground knowing that the man who could only be yet another policeman had seen him and therefore knew that they were home.  He did not even pretend not to see the man advancing toward him.  I have nothing to hide, Sam thought, why would I run inside, although he did step back and softly let Maxi know that she needed to be decently dressed as they had a visitor. 

Maxi tended to feel that a loose tank top and pair of panties was plenty clothes when the two of them were alone.  Personally, Sam thought the panties were superfluous, but when they were entertaining a guest, he supposed that panties were necessary.  Sam heard the sound of the shower, so he stepped into the house to make sure the bathroom door was closed enough, and that Maxi had something to wear when she emerged. 

“What the heck does he want?” she asked when Sam told her there was another policeman approaching. 

Sam shrugged.  “I do not know for sure, but I am guessing that this guy is as far up the ladder of cops there is on the island.  He looks like the boss.” 

Maxi giggled.  “I guess that means I have to wear underpants with my sarong, huh?” 

Sam leered at her.  “Only while he is here.”  He ran a hand over his hair and picked up a tee shirt on his way back to the front porch.  When he got to the door the man, he assumed was another cop was leaning on the gate looking at the bougainvillea with interest. 

It's still so bloody hot and humid.  The grocery store parking lot felt like walking on a griddle today and the only breeze was coming from the direction of the rendering plant.  Stinky.  Evidently spaghetti squash is a hot item because the last couple times I've been there they've been out.  Good thing I have one on hand because one of my recipes calls for spaghetti squash halves used as bowls.  Maybe I'll go to a different store...

Today's toss was a box with old cake pans, pie plates, and glass casseroles.  Stuff I used to use but don't anymore.  Maybe I'll dump some more booze tomorrow because Wednesday is recycling day.  That'd be good.  It's fun to pour that stuff out.  Not the good stuff, of course, just the old skanky stuff.
--Barbara