Hi, guys. I’m sorry it’s been a lifetime since I’ve posted. It’s been a busy week. Excuses, excuses.
Seriously, though. For the last four days, I have lived my life like a person who never had a blog, had never heard of blogs. I hate to admit it, but this little website hasn’t even crossed my mind this weekend. Not even once. In fact, I sort of don’t even know what to say now that I’m back…I mean, it feels like this is my very first blog post, the one where people are all like, “So yeah, I started this blog and I don’t know what to say but here I am and this is my first blog post the end.”
Anyway, this weekend has been a sort of coming-of-age time for me. It is the first time in my life that I have actually felt quite close to what it must feel like to be a grown-up.
First, I had my parents in town (they’re still here, actually; they’ll be leaving later today). It’s really strange to have one’s parents in town. I have been the sole meal planner and executioner (I execute the meal plans, that is; although it could also sound like I execute my guests by virtue of my awful cooking), and that’s a lot of responsibility. The first night, we made homemade pizza. The next night we had a Chinese dinner, and tonight we had soup, salad, and rolls. I’ve even tried my hand at a few breakfasts, but those have failed pretty consistently; I’m convinced I am so awful at making breakfasts because I hate being alive any time before noon. At any rate, my parents are still alive, so at least I didn’t kill them off with my horrid cooking, or worse, no cooking at all.
Second, Poor Kyle and I paid off Tamra Camry, who is dead. We still owed several years’ worth of payments on Tamra, but the bank was threatening to charge us for insurance because she’s not insured in Canada because she doesn’t actually run any more, so we decided to just bite the bullet and pay her off now, saving us money in the long run. And delightful as it is to declare that we are debt free except for our house, it would be even more delightful if we didn’t have to pay several thousand dollars on a car that doesn’t drive.
You can read all about that fiasco here.
We do hope to fix Tamra someday—she deserves as much—but that day is not today.
And finally, I made my own pumpkin puree this week, and then proceeded to sneak it into every single meal I have subsequently prepared. Nothing makes me feel more like a naggy old mother figure than sneaking vegetables into my husband’s dinner and acting all nonchalant about it. “What, dear? No, I don’t think this banana bread looks any oranger than usual. Why do you ask?”
I’m an old fart, is what I’m saying.
And it’s ever so slightly unsettling.
Next thing I know, I’ll be wandering around the neighborhood in my bathrobe looking for my missing dentures and rounding up a gang of cronies to join my peanuckle league.
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