j93N8ZTEx7-4Someone ushered last night which gave me a rare ‘Home alone’ experience. I recall in my youth seeing a man wearing a T-shirt “I love my wife but oh you kid” – or words of that affect. There is a similar sentiment about Someone being away and leaving me the house.

I love my honey-bear but it’s lovely having the TV off and the place to myself.

Alas I have no sybarite news; there were no flight attendants running amok with stereo music blaring.  I dictated as many charts as I could, with intermittent breaks to advance the laundry. The only signs of reprobate living was the making of a martini in honor of 1 August. This was my grandfather’s birthday; he was fond of martinis. I make one every year on his day.  Someone was thankful for the pizza I made for him. As you can see, I make a good housewife – or butler if anyone wants to hire me.

Today is the annual work summer party. Alas, I am going without my assigned hors d’oeuvre. Yesterday I prepared a cheese log loaded with Mexican peppers and spices. The recipe called for tequila. I foolishly used the moonshine I purchased in PV this last February. Someone texted me at work to relate the miasma coming from the fridge was profound. I hoped the stench would calm down with overnight chilling but no such look. The fetor makes the log inedible.

Someone worries about ‘what will they think’ if I show up sans dish to pass, but I’m cross and I don’t want to spend the day making something new/else. Perhaps out of irony on the way over I might pick up a bucket of KFC.

Meanwhile I must get a much-needed haircut and beard trim. I need to finish a shirt; Canada is right around the corner. Oh, there’s work to be done. And I must empty the trash before the cheese-thing gets any more mephitic.

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