No use complaining about the daily onslaught of dreadful news. The upside is we made it to June. And now here it is, bustin’ out all over.
At least we had beer for the journey. But just because we can’t have nice things, today’s newspaper reported Track 7, our favorite local brewery, is closing permanently. No reasons were provided, but I assume it’s related to the economy.
Does that mean it’s Biden’s fault?
We’re currently featuring Track 7’s Panic IPA in the kegerator, so we shall propose a farewell toast before that kicks. Perhaps we’ll head on over to Total Wines & More and see if there’s a spare keg to be had. We have room in the kegerator for a backup.
These are the times that try men’s souls. Thankfully, we still have Jameson Black Barrel. Proof God wants us to be happy.
Speaking of men, not to be confused with God, I was reading an article about the history of the LGBTQ movement in Washington, D.C., and they quoted a lesbian who said it was so great to find a community of women who didn’t exist to please men. Maybe I signed up for the wrong team.
Although I do my best to please one man, I have pretty much ignored the rest of it. I never dressed the part, never acted the part. I did what I had to do to get by at work, where pleasing men was a core competency. That said, my career highlights included catering to the whims of high-ranking women.
One female boss told me I’d be pretty if I wore a little makeup. In another job, I briefed a woman exec and asked if she had any questions. She said, “Wherever did you get those ugly shoes?”
Ugly as in comfortable. Teetering around on stilettos was never my thing. Take it from me, you gotta be ready to run.
Anyway, I was in communications … or PR as we used to call it. Dale always said that stood for porking the rich. Special events were always a showcase for privileged buffoons behaving badly. Communicators were deeply involved in planning special events, and by the time they were over, I hated everyone.
The stories I could tell!!
Being retired and turning 70 this year, I can honestly say it feels good to ignore the pressure to please anyone except Dale and possibly my cat. Not that either one notices. As I have said before, the bad news is that my self-editing feature seems to be down. I tried rebooting it, but I’m still spewing a lot of things that might be better left unsaid.
On the food front, I made waffles last week, and they were delicious. I never order them in a restaurant because you usually get fake maple syrup. I only want the real thing, which I could drink from the bottle like Buddy from Elf.
I wanted another run on the waffles, but ever eager to please my man, we went with buckwheat pancakes, another family favorite. Dale buys bulk breakfast sausage and then freezes them in small patties. So we each had one of those on the side.
The cherry season is here! I never liked cherries until last year, and now I love them. I even bought a cherry pitter. We went to the farmer’s market this morning, and I bought a basket for $6. That seemed steep, but what isn’t? I also bought a big bag of walnuts.
Dale’s making fajitas tonight. He’s whipping up the marinade for the meat now. We went to Safeway for tortillas because we didn’t have the right size. And I say that as someone with a drawer in the refrigerator dedicated to tortillas. We also have a cheese drawer.
It was beastly hot yesterday but nice today, so we’ll eat outside. We always wait until the last minute to set up the music, so then we don’t. But this time I’m getting it all prepped in advance. Nothing like some good tunes to liven up the party.
That, and homemade fudgsicles for dessert!
