I Got Mail

 

I got all kinds of things in the mail today--a political ad (of course, but only one), a come-on for a kids' magazine (that costs a fortune even with a discount), an insurance invitation, a yarn catalog, and my ballot.  My ballot came!  Now I can vote and send it in soon so I'm sure that my vote counts in November.

Today's recipe was Unstuffed Cabbage Rolls.  It's basically a kind of stew with ground turkey, Italian diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, mushrooms, lots of onion, and even more cabbage.  This is the kind of one-pot dish that Durwood was a real fan of.  I'd like to have a slice of crusty bread to sop up the juice with but that isn't on "the plan" so I make do with a little rice if I decide to throw some into the bowl first.  Hm, I should portion out some rice and freeze it so that I can add it at the last minute if the mood strikes.  Maybe I'll do that tomorrow while I'm cooking the last recipe of this bout of Investment Cooking.

It's hard to see but there's a very determined Cardinal in the platform feeder in this picture.  It repelled all comers while it was in there, didn't want to share.  At one point a little House Finch sneaked onto the feeder behind the Cardinal and very carefully ate one seed at a time, no tossing seeds, no jiggling the feeder.

I spent some time knitting on the Warm Beanie this afternoon and evening.  I suppose I should be farther along if I'd applied myself more diligently but I just wasn't in the mood.  I added a couple inches; that's good.

 

 A friend recommended that I watch Miss Fisher's Murder Mystery tonight on PBS.  It was pretty good.  It's from Australia and is set in the 20s so the clothes are fabulous and everyone is a real character, almost a caricature, but the clothes make it worth the watch.  I hope I remember to watch again.  Oh, I should set the DVR to make sure I don't forget.  I'll go do that.

 

19 September--Barbara Malcolm, Better Than Mom's. 

Brady stood outside Naomi’s door trying to muster up the guts to ring the bell.  How foolish he felt being nervous to go to supper with a woman in whose company he spent most of his days.  He wiped his hands down his jeans once more, took a deep breath, and pressed the bell.  He could hear the buzz inside and Marcus yell, “I’ll get it, Mom.”  He heard the deadbolt snap open and the rattle of the security chain as it was removed from the door. 

Marcus was frowning as he opened the door to Brady, his boss too.  “Have you come to pick up my mother, young man?” he said in imitation of the stereotype of a father greeting his daughter’s date.

 Brady was too nervous to do more than smile. 

Marcus opened the door wide and said, “Come on in, Brady.  I am glad to have this opportunity to talk to you about your intentions.”  He motioned the older man to sit on the couch and sat down himself in a recliner.  He picked up the remote and muted the sound on the television.  “So,” Marcus said, “where are you planning to take Naomi to supper.  Someplace nice, I assume?” 

Brady sat, like every other man/boy on his first date confronted by the son/father of the girl he liked, on the edge of his seat, his forearms resting on his thighs and his hands clasped so tight that his fingers were white.  “I thought we would go to the Prime Quarter; I heard they have very good meat there and I thought we could get better acquainted in a place that does not have loud music and… oh for heaven’s sake, Marcus, what are you doing to me?  And why aren’t you at work?” 

Marcus laughed.  “I’m on my supper break.  I’m just jerking you around a bit, Brady.  Too bad you never had a daughter; you would recognize the third degree when you saw it.  I can not count the number of times I have sat with some girl’s daddy letting him think he was intimidating me so that I would behave respectfully to his daughter.  As if my mom would tolerate me not being a gentleman.” 

“You go on dates?”

 “Of course, I do.”

 “But you are only fourteen, right?” 

“I am fifteen now, remember?  You made me wait until my fifteenth birthday before you would let me come to work for you.” 

Now Brady sat back and unclasped his hands.  “It was not me, the city has an ordinance that you have to be fifteen to get a work permit, that is why I made you wait.” 

It was Marcus’ turn to fold his arms over his chest.  “What time do you plan to have Naomi home by?  You know she needs to get up in time for church tomorrow.  Do not be keeping her out until all hours or buying her too many drinks.” 

“I won't, I won't.  Hey, what kind of drink does your mom like anyway?  I could impress her by already knowing that about her.”  He looked around.  “What is taking her so long?  You do not think she changed her mind about going out with me, do you?” 

“Naw, she has been talking about nothing else for the past few days.  Man, you do not know much about girls or women I guess I should say, do you?” 

Brady shook his head.  “Not really.  For most of the years I was in the navy they kept the male and female sailors pretty segregated.  It was only on my last few cruises that there were women on board ship.” 

“How did you like being in the navy?” Marcus asked. 

“I liked it fine.  I went in right out of high school and stayed in for thirty years.” 

“Did you always want to be a cook?” 

“No.  I never thought of it, but they give you a whole battery of aptitude tests when you enlist, and cook is what the tests said I should be.  So, they sent me to navy cook school in San Diego after boot camp and the week after I graduated, I was on a carrier headed to Southeast Asia.” 

“Did you see any combat?”  Marcus leaned forward. 

“Not unless you count fights in the mess.  A few times we were on alert when an enemy plane got to within about fifty miles of the ship but most of the time, I was too busy making meals for a couple thousand men to worry about the enemy.  And then after Vietnam there was no real enemy, besides the Russians of course, so we basically just sailed around the seven seas and I served coffee to the captain on the bridge in every one of them.” 

“Awesome.” 

“You ever think about joining the military?” 

Marcus looked at him like he was crazy.  “Naw, man, I am going to be a football player.  First in college, then the pros.” 

“What if you get hurt or do not make it or get cut?  There are a lot of things that might come between you and that dream.  It is always smart to hedge your bets a little, to have a plan B to fall back on if plan A falls through.” 

“What are you two planning out here while I am getting ready?”  Both Brady and Marcus jumped and stood up when they heard Naomi’s voice. 

“Nothing, Mom, me and Brady were just passing time waiting on you.  You took long enough.  It is not as if you do not see Brady nearly every day.”

 “Hush up,” she said.  “A girl still has to make herself beautiful before a date even if the man sees her all sweaty and covered with flour at work every day.”  She turned to Brady.  “Hi.”  Her voice softened as she said it. 

“Hi,” he said back, his ears reddening as he looked at her.  “You look pretty, Naomi.” 

The three of them stood there for a few minutes, awkward, not knowing what to do next.  Naomi broke the silence.  “We should probably get going.”  

Brady snapped to awareness too and clapped his hands together.  “Yeah, let's go.”  He followed Naomi to the door where he held her jacket for her. 

Today's toss was another case of shampoo.  That's three down and one to go.

It was a beautiful day today and I was thinking of calling to see if there would be another family walk I could go along on but DS called to say that someone at OJ's 4K tested positive so he's home in quarantine for two weeks.  That means no backyard visits and no brewery visits for me for two weeks too.  And OJ learned to ride his two-wheeler without training wheels today too.  I'd like to see that in person.  I will, in a couple weeks.  *sigh*  I hate this virus.

--Barbara