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Tuesday, February 1, 2005
Give Eggs A Rest
Most of my computer time occurs as I eat breakfast, so breakfast is the topic today and I say, why eggs all the time? Not that eggs are bad. My favorite breakfast is a pat of butter, eggs, cheese, and hot salsa scrambled together in a fry pan. Today, though, I woke up thinking, "Fish." Chronically a victim of special offers at the ghetto grocery, I bought a huge sack of 130 frozen fish sticks during the first week of Lent. That was the day I left my glasses at home and accidentally bought horseradish sauce instead of tartar sauce for all those fish sticks. My next trip to the store was an afternoon at Walmart with Lydia and the kids. I got the tartar sauce that time, but forgot and left the jar in the back of Lydia's Honda Odyssey.
By the way, interrupting here and speaking of Walmart, I probably never would go there by myself; it's just too enormous. Toiling along from what must surely be weather system to weather system and time zone to time zone, soon my only goal is to get out and it's still this week. I'm old and a lot of hiking wears me out so Walmart is not really for me. On the other hand, it is a cheap source for little luxuries like lavendar soaps, lavendar bath salts, and lavendar-scented house cleaning products. Also, I got an excellent palm tree there for just $6.00, yes, a real and quite big palm tree, the kind that can tolerate Norfolk winters. What a deal. Oh, and Walmart was the only place around here with a Nintendo DS game thing available...Benny's birthday party.
Back to breakfast...eventually the tartar sauce arrived home and I realized that unless I intended to throw away a lot of fish sticks, I'd better start using them. I made a little tiny dent in the supply just now. What else do I like for breakfast? Well, I like the Heidi breakfast...cheese melted onto toast. Another good one is cold, left-over spaghetti. Cold, left-over pizza is probably my second favorite. Peanut butter on toast is good, too. Baked beans on toast is good, but it leaves a partial can of leftovers sitting forever in the fridge. Sausage gravy on fresh hot biscuits is just way too good and therefore probably qualifies as a sin.
What do I NOT like? Cereal. Blecch. All packaged cereal has a peculiar aftertaste. How about good old oatmeal? I may never again feel that desperate for the good old days. Oatmeal is best when cooked like this; first simmer raisins in a bit of water until the raisins plump. Then add water, oatmeal, butter, salt, and cook until the oatmeal is thick but not too lumpy. Add brown sugar and cold milk. Yes, that is good stuff, but it takes too long and requires more than one step.
Whatever I eat for breakfast needs fresh-brewed coffee to wash it all down. That's what I'm going to make right now.
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Yesterday's yellow apartment report...
someone over there stole a little child's training wheels bike. It has been kicked around on the sidewalk for a few weeks. On Saturday a man threw it into the yard of the green house across the way, the one being rehabbed. I have several times thought, "I should call the police to tell them about that bike because no doubt parents of the child from whom it was stolen would have reported their loss. If the police know where the bike is, they could notify the owner." Course I never call the police about anything.
Yesterday evening I saw the big police van pull up in front of the green house and thought, "Oh, good. They've noticed that bike and are going to pick it up." Nope. Five policemen and a drug-sniffer dog got out of the van and sheltered in the bushes just before the yellow apartments. It was a miserably chilly, rainy evening. The policemen shivered and rubbed their arms. Finally the rest of their contingent arrived. They spread out, covered every inch of ground around the apartments and also went through the hallways from back to front. They went over and over and over the area. After about half an hour, they gave up and left without making an arrest. Even the dog looked disappointed. Residents watching from their balcony porches laughed and jeered.
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