When It Gets Cold...

I cook.  This morning I whipped up a batch of Burrito Bowls.  It's a recipe I found on The Pound Dropper website that counts zero points for this huge serving.  It's cilantro-lime cauliflower rice, corn, black beans, and chicken breast with lots of spices.  At serving time it gets a dollop of non-fat Greek yogurt and a couple glugs of fat-free salsa.  Lately I've been sprinkling it with 1/4 cup of Sargento low fat Mexican blend shredded cheese for 3 points when reheating it.  Yum.



Yesterday I made a pot of Fire-Roasted Tomato-Basil soup and remembered to take its picture this evening.  I used the white meat from a rotisserie chicken for the Burrito Bowls so I chopped up the dark meat from the same chicken, weighed it (6 oz), and added it to the tomato soup which added 1 point to the single point of the soup.  Alongside I have 8 sesame crackers with a tablespoon of Philly low-fat chive and onion cream cheese for a grand total of  6 points for supper.  Good stuff.


This morning I cleared a path from the workshop to the bottom of the basement stairs so that JR can haul away the broken table saw and radial arm saw tomorrow evening.  I'm sure there's more for me to move tomorrow but I ran out of steam.  Today's toss was a computer backpack, a wind-up alarm clock, and a stack of desk trays that I'll never use.  That filled the back of my car (along with the stuff from the last couple days) so I stopped and unloaded it to a very stone-faced guy at Goodwill.  Usually they're friendly but this guy was having a BAD day.  Grumpy to the max.  Ah well, I'd probably be grumpy if I worked there too.


This afternoon ACJ and I met at The Attic to write for a couple hours because I'll be gone next Wednesday.  I got another little scene written up.  Now it's definitely time to get all these little pieces in the manuscript and start a read-through to see where, or if, more is needed.



The Bluejays found the corn cobs and figured out how to get the kernels off.  It's fun to see them flap and balance, then fly away to give the next bird a chance.  Eventually  a squirrel will come to chase them away.

I think that this little chipmunk is the last one.  It's very skittish but works hard stuffing its cheeks with seeds and cracked corn.  It has a cache in the tray of the hose holder with seeds and rat poison pellets.  I can't imagine that it can eat those pellets and survive.  Tasty.







30 October--Barbara Malcolm, Spies Don't Retire. 

Dimitri elbowed George.  “I think we are trying her patience.  We should order before her grandmother comes out and starts smacking us around.”

The delighted look on the girl’s face at the idea that someone other than herself was leery of her grandmother momentarily lit the dark corner of the restaurant.

Dimitri went first.  “I will have two eggs over medium, sausages, you have sausages?”  The girl nodded.  “Good.  Toast with real butter, no margarine, and some fried potatoes.”  He slid his menu into the holder in the center of the table and grinned sheepishly at George.  “What Irina doesn’t know can’t hurt me.”

“I’ll never tell, old boy.”  He smiled up at the girl.  “I believe I’ll have the banana pancakes, real butter also, with a side of bacon, and make sure it’s cooked crisp.  I detest flabby bacon, reminds me of field survival training, all that raw meat.  I’d like a big glass of orange juice first.”  He smiled and closed his menu, then caught himself admiring the sway of a too young behind as the waitress went to put in their order.

“George, how are we going to do this?”

“Do what?”

Dimitri began to pleat his napkin, caught himself in the nervous gesture, and stopped.  “Both of us live on this tiny island now, when we spent so much of our lives on opposite sides?”

George looked at his old enemy with a steady gaze.  “I don’t see that it will be much of a problem.  Who, besides Sonia and Irina, knows the truth?”

“I think anyone at that party last night is talking about nothing else.  I think Billie Holland-Smythe knows more than we think.”

“What makes you say that?”

Dimitri half-turned toward George and draped his elbow over the chair back.  “You could not see her face when she was dragging you and your wife toward us.  There was an unholy glee in her eyes, a nasty mischievous knowledge that she knew exactly what she was up to.”

“Hmm, you might be right.  I seem to recall that Billie’s brother Bertie, a pompous ass of the first water, worked in Intelligence for years.  I wonder if he inadvertently let a few things slip.”

“Or maybe not so accidentally,” said Dimitri.

George nodded at him.  “Too right.  I’ll have to have a few words with Sonia when I get home.  She and Billie have become fast friends in the last few months.  God forbid she’s been doing a bit of her own blabbing in the wrong ears.”

Both men were silent as their young waitress brought their orders to the table.  They thanked her and spread napkins in their laps.  She asked if they wanted more coffee and both said, “After.”  She admonished them to enjoy their meal and left to tend to the other customers who had just arrived.

For the next few minutes’ conversation ceased between the old enemies as they did justice to the excellent food.  As the last bite was savored, the old woman refilled their mugs fresh brewed coffee.  George looked at his mug ruefully.  “I’ll pay for all of this caffeine later.”

Dimitri sighed.  “Da.  I am not used to all this rich food either.  I can see I will have antacids for lunch.  But it will be worth it.  That was an excellent meal.”

George reached out and snagged the check from the top of the napkin dispenser where their waitress had placed it.  “My treat today, Dimitri,” George said, figuring that the Russian’s pension didn’t stretch as far as it once had.  “You can catch the next one.”

Dimitri pulled out his wallet too.  “Thank you, George.  Allow me to leave the tip.”

The two old enemies walked back out into the sun baked parking lot, both of them picking remnants of breakfast out of their teeth with a complimentary toothpick.

“We should do this again,” George said.  “Get to know each other outside of work.”

Dimitri smiled.  “I’d like that, George.”  

Tomorrow's trick or treat and I've got a trainer session so I figured out that I can wear my spiderweb overshirt over a tank top with my workout pants and be in costume.  I should go down to see if I can't dig out my Halloween socks...  Boo!
--Barbara