We’re a month into spring now and I’m still finding myself chilled every morning.
It’s got nothing to do with the weather, though, and really more about my neighbor leaving his bathroom curtains open after he showers.
Don’t really want to see that….
I’m also sure none of us want to see a story like this, either, which is essentially about nothing, mostly because it’s one of those days where I have nothing to say, let alone write about.
Another one of those…..
So I thought I would try the old trick where I just sit down and start tapping something out and hope it turns into at least 4 or 5 hundred words of something, before my coffee gets cold.
Yeah…I know…doesn’t always work.
I guess it’s because I’m still getting over this past holiday weekend.
We again hosted about 327 of Z’s immediate family…my in-laws…for Easter.
Okay, that’s an exaggeration…there were really only 9 of them this year…it only seemed like 327 after my 23rd gin and tonic.
Oh, don’t worry…I switched to beer after that.
It’s not that I really needed that much gin…it just helps me cope.
Plus, since there were only 9 of them this year, I was able to park and wash their cars in no time.
And I was able to eat in the house this time…although not on the same floor.
Yeah…I know. This act is getting old. I pull it out every time I get together with my in-laws.
Truth is they’re all just fine. And yes…they do know my name, even without the name tag.
And they do tip pretty well.
Although I’m not implying that “this” in any way is either.
We actually had a nice time; even sat out on the porch in the sun for cocktails and munchies before dinner.
Which is pretty much the only time of year when you can sit on my deck in mid-afternoon without being turned into a sundried tomato in 15 minutes…at least until the sun drops behind the big leafy tree around 5:30.
Afterwards, we all made our way into the dining room and chowed down on 2 legs of lamb, which everyone couldn’t get enough of…except, you know, the lamb.
But there’s always goanna be somebody in the bunch who’s not happy.
Z also made her famous Bunny Cake for desert, which you can see was devoured before I could get a good pic.
Afterwards, Z, always thinking, reconfigured it into a Raccoon Cake, which means we now have something to serve on “Davey Crockett” day.
Don’t ask me what that means. I told you I’m just tapping here. I’m not responsible for what comes out.
By 8, there was pretty much nothing left to eat or drink, so everyone started heading out the door, and this year I was able to recover most if not all the silverware as they passed through the metal detector.
I know that sounds weird, having a metal detector for your guests to walk through as they’re leaving….but the individual “wanding” took way too much time on New Year’s.
So there you go…nearly 550 words about nothing.
I know…not even close to entertaining, but it was the best I could do.
And it had nothing to do with the 23 G & Ts.
It was the beer….and the Sambuca…and the Anisette…and….
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