Sunday morning in the (other) Animal House...

I think I'mina do some baking today.
Maybe "grow" some instant fingernails later, too.

The house is clean.
I 'bout killed myself doing that Friday afternoon, into Saturday (late) morning.
'Course, if I hadn't had to BALE the kitchen and front room, thanks to the cats spreading around about a half a trash bag fulla hay, it mighta been easier....
When I finally went to bed, all that was left was a small load of white socks that severely needed bleaching. *shudder*
I got 'em as far as the washer, then decided "fuck 'em" and dried 'em when I got up.

I only slept about 4 hours yesterday.
Went to bed around 11am, got up before 3pm.

Staggered on down here (after throwng said socks in the dryer) and gotta cuppa coffee, then cruised around on here with Def Leppard on the CD player/Walkman because Sr. was watching that somehow-unGodly-annoying "Crossroads" movie again.
(Sr. is off this weekend because he wrenched his neck a coupla days ago (like Thursday, I think it was) yanking open a telescoping gate in one of the cow barns. He couldn't turn his head for shit at first, but, after wearing those sticky pain patches that heat up when ya put 'em on, then just being OFF this weekend, it's getting better.)

ANYway, he was watching that movie again and it was distracting me.
All that whiny, sounds-like-a-dying-animal harmonica shit and the "so NOT SRV" guitar playing was just tooooo much.
So, it was "Gim'me my DefLep and go 'way."

Then, I finally broke out the George Jones CD I got a while back.
Almost made it through "He Stopped Loving Her Today".

George got to the "We wondered if she'd show up" part, I happened to glance at the DVD Elisson made and saw Rob and there I went.
*sigh*
Not as badly as I have before, but enough.
I still just canNOT believe it.
Ya know?
I can say it, write it, explain it and know it but I still just can't believe it.

Last night, Jr. asked me about Elvis. About whether he's really dead or just run off somewhere.
In explaining the Elvis phenomenon to him, I said that when he died, it was just so hard for people to accept, that some people chose to believe he'd faked his death and ran off someplace, like some people do with Jim Morrison, and the way lots of us would like to believe about Rob.
It's just easier, somewhow, to believe some convoluted theory like that than it is to believe they're really gone.
Hurts less.

And, the majority of my heart wishes I could go with "Rob's really in Costa Rica."

I think about it a lot, but...
I know better.
(Damn it...)

Anyway, after "He Stopped Loving Her Today", I let the CD go on and ya know what?
George Jones has an incredible voice.
I just "discovered" that yesterday.
*rolls eyes at self*
All the years I've known who he is and all, I never really knew just how rich and soulful his voice was til I heard it on those headphones.

I don't know about his taste in wimmen... that Tammy Wynette just was NOT a pretty woman and she more whines than sings, but... his voice is awesome.
And, I laugh out loud every time I think about ol' George taking his riding mower to the liquor store after Tammy took all his car keys.

After George, I broke out Ronnie Milsap.
I haven't sung with Ronnie for at least ten years but, once I heard the opening notes of each song, all the words were right there.
I missed him and didn't even know it.

Somewhere in the beginning of Ronnie's CD, Sr. decided to quit trying to torture me with that (Godawful) movie and changed it to NatLamp's "Family Vacation", so I turned Ronnie down a little and went over and sat on the floor in front of Sr., between his feet, and got kinda snuggley and close and that was cool.
We were laughing at Chevy Chase and could still faintly hear Ronnie singin' and it was just... really nice.

After that movie, we decided to run to Giant and get some stuff and that lovely sixty-five cents a gallon gas.
Came home, I made dinner and actually went to bed by 11pm, for a change.

Just got up about two hours ago, took care of Gut Rumbles, and here I am.
In my nice, clean house, wearing my nice, soft flannel jammies, about to start baking.

Gonna make Oatmeal raisin cookies for my wrenched-necked patient, a cake for whomever and (Mike, you need to catch this shit) I'm also gonna start Amish Friendship Bread.

Starting Amish Friendship Bread is easy.
It's ending it that's the problem.

Even if you know enough people to not end up with more new "starters" than there were kittens around here before PAWS of Pa. showed up, after the first time you "gift" somebody with one of these starters, they hide like you're a Jehovah's Witness when they see you coming if they think there's even a chance you've got another starter for 'em.
And... I don't blame 'em a damned bit....

To start it, you just throw a cup of flour, a cup of sugar and a cup of milk into a BIG Ziplock baggie and mush it around til it's thoroughly mixed.
Then, just do what it says at linked site above.

I also add apple slices and spinkle the top of the loaves with cinnamon sugar before I bake 'em.

The most important thing to remember is to NOT EVER USE ANYTHING METAL with this stuff.
And, to make sure you have it well hidden if you're gonna try to give anybody this shit more than one time.
Oh, and don't forget to write out the directions for them.
"squeezedabagsqueezedabagsqueezedabag..."
(Just don't fuck up and get it confused with his "bag"... *giggle, giggle, snort*)

And, on that note, I'm outta here.

Peace, y'all....

Posted by: Stevie at 08:25 AM

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Posted by: BlogDog at November 12, 2006 07:56 PM (6rj9i)

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