Well, it seems that the building near the building where I work caught on fire a little bit. See news here.
As I leave work everyday in the most capable hands of a great A/V technician (pssst . . . he blogs on occasion here) I tell him, “If the place blows up call me, okay? I have a bag of marshmallows in the trunk of my car. We’ll roast some ‘mallows over the ashes of our building.” Apparently, he didn’t take me seriously because I had to call his cell phone to make sure he was okay and not making s’mores without me.
So, either Fleming’s or P.F. Chang’s is the new hot spot. But, you Nashville folks should avoid it this weekend.
Speaking of hot . . . it was 101°F on my front porch. My front porch that is covered and on the north side of my house. Ugh.
I made the realization the other day, as I was preparing a grilled shrimp over black bean and corn salad for the farm adventure, that I really miss cooking and baking. The Elder Extroverted Holy One and I used to cook a lot before the Young Extroverted One made herself known. When we were doing the vegetarian thing (up until the polish sausage incident during pregnancy) we made some extravagant meals. Heck, I used to bake bread every week!
I’m not blaming the YEO for our lack of homecooked meals. It’s just that now the dynamics are a little different. In order for a more reasonable bedtime we need to have dinner at a certain time. And I am usually wiped out from work. That leaves the EEHO, who is usually wiped out from schoolin’, picking up the YEO and keeping her entertained with snacks and whatever else fits her fancy at the time. So, lately it’s been boxed prepared meals and Schwan’s(which is surpisingly good, by the way).
You see, I’m just a little more domestic than the EEHO. If I were a stay-at-home dad like I was for YEO’s first year of life I’d be all domesticated. The dishes would be done, laundry washed, dried and folded and our house would be clean (either that or I’d be wearing pearls, drinking wine, watching soaps and eating bon-bons. Hmmm . . . that sounds kind of cool too). Of course, in order for our house to be clean I would have to shave our two dogs and two cats but I’m up for that!
I guess I find some sort of meditative properties in the acts of domesticity. Kind of Zen and the Art of Archery but I wouldn’t be shooting stuff. It’s the process of prepping ingredients that go in to a meal or washing dishes by hand or even folding laundry. All of these activities seem to center me. It just seems I can find more meaning (?) in these things that I can do for my family and friends than I can in hanging chain motors, wrapping truss and raising said truss to show height for a Wal-Mart corporate gig.
I guess the EEHO needs to find some wealthy church to pay her so she can support my homely habits of housekeeping.