So for the first time in lots of months (seven? more?), I didnʼt have a post all ready to go at 5:05 AM (local time for me). Apologies, Europe. It was quite a busy weekend (as I had predicted in the post I prepared for Saturday). First, there were some social obligations. But mostly we were working.
We cooked. Another huge batch of squash soup got prepared, supposedly with Janet present to learn how it was done, although I donʼt think she paid that much attention to the cooking and spicing procedure once she did the squash shaving and slicing. But we did it together. At the same time/just after we teamed the preparation for what I am doing all day today — little breakfast quiches (yes, as I told you before, we make enough at a time that I need only do it roughly three times a year). And todayʼs the day for the autumnal baking, as it has been for several years now. Yesterday, The Lovely One and I chopped up a red, yellow and gold pepper. She warmed and then separated boxes of spinach into a big bowl. And this morning I used our miniature food processor (purchased maybe a year ago and never removed from the box; I had forgotten we had it) to mince onions (I minced them basically into an oniony paste trying to get the final big chunks diced), canned mushrooms (which worked fairly well, especially one can at a time), and shredded carrot (a job the chopper liked and did well at; I added one can of mushrooms to the last bunch of carrot to see if combining dry and moist foods worked better — it did). We have to chop up the already shredded carrot because the carrot shreds are way too big to work well in our muffin-tin quiches.
I started in on the cooking preparations as Janet left for work, and the first batch was done already before 9:00 (as I type now, the fourth batch is in the oven; it may take me through five and six before weʼre done here). It will be interesting to see how well I maintain my focus on keeping to a topic with this post while interrupting every 21 minutes (plus transition time) to empty the cooked batch and create twenty-four new little quiches for the next batch.
But back to the busy Saturday and Sunday…
The first weekend in October, if it isnʼt the weekend The Lovely One chooses to travel to Wisconsin to party with her sister for what they call the annual Fall Festivus (yes, we are old enough to have loved and used Seinfeld), is when the summer decorations must be removed and exchanged for the fall stuff. And that was also a project over the previous two days — still incomplete; she got the indoor stuff redone, but the exterior decorations got stalled on Sunday. My de-lipomaed shoulder got its first test last week (and passed easily) as I clambered up a ladder to reach into the attic for the plastic storage boxes of fall decorative items — pumpkins, leaves, pine cones, and I-donʼt-know-what-all-else. (My surgeon was pretty specific about not reaching overhead or performing other strange adjustments to the wound after surgery, even as he removed the stitches last week. He did say I could start running again, and I dutifully arose before dawn — heck I finished before dawn — to do a five-mile jog today; and as we should all realize, for once “today” means today, Monday, October 4 — and Happy Birthday to my sister, Margaret.) One thing I must do today is put the empty boxes back until itʼs time for the winter/Christmas decoration-exchange.
What interrupted the outdoor display was attempting to restore some order to our garage. Janet got started working on her stuff while I was changing and folding laundry (thus my choice of cartoon?) yesterday afternoon, and she quickly got frustrated by the massive mess we had created out there, particularly when she could not locate a wreath hanger she needed. Naturally, the next step was utterly cleaning out the boxes and boxes and uncategorized mountains of things I had created (she believes she never contributes to the garage disaster). By the time the subtle marital pressure stirred me out, she was sweeping the floor (an act which has always struck me as the nearest thing to insanity, save sweeping or washing the driveway: itʼs a garage!). However, I learned years ago that the proper response is not to indicate that this dirty floor will just return to its filthy state as soon as either or both vehicles go out and return once or twice but instead to leap into action with a fervor and gusto that demonstrates my undying love and repentant understanding of my sinful (and sloppy) nature.
So we worked through the afternoon into evening, a blissful and besotted couple. And the pigs soared overhead.
I have more on this topic, but itʼs 10:30, my self-imposed deadline to get todayʼs little not-quite-an-essay posted. Cheers.
— And about 10:40, I figured out that our oven had died (no longer heating). Bliss. The repairman is on his way…