I went to the library yesterday to pick up some new reading material. Because I find myself overworking my pitiful little brain daily with all the neurotic obsessing I do, I often opt for light reading. I don't like to read literature that requires me to detect symbolism and other literary terms I learned, and promptly forgot about, in high school English. I read mysteries. Culinary mysteries are my favorite, especially those written by Diane Mott Davidson. They're fun to read and they revolve around food. In the words of my beloved Ina Garten, "how bad can that be?"
On a side note about Ina (when don't I have a side note?), as much as I adore her and want to be like the Barefoot Contessa, it annoys me to no end the way she uses the whole name of a recipe everytime she talks about it during the recipe presentation. For instance, if she's making Mustard Chicken Salad, as she is at this very moment (I'm multitasking) she'll say, "1/4 cup of mustard goes into this mustard chicken salad" and "I just love to bring mustard chicken salad on a picnic" or "I roast the chicken in the oven before I add it to the mustard chicken salad."
This is just a minor irk; nothing, no really nothing, will kill my Ina love.
Unless she starts cackling like Paula Deen and saying "yum-o" like Rachael McScreechy Ray.
You have no idea how upsetting that would be.
/tangent
It's been awhile since Diane Mott Davidson has published a new book and I was so very happy to come across "Fatally Flakey" yesterday. Only, there was one little problem: the only copy available was in the large print section.
Not willing to forgo reading about Goldy and her catering/murder solving skills, I swallowed my pride and checked it out. As I approached the counter, I loudly said "I hope great grandma enjoys this large print book." Oh how I kid.
While I haven't begun reading the book yet, I did skim through a few of the pages and was pleasantly surprised by the awesomeness of the large print.
My eyes are already challenged; I require glasses for reading and to help make the computer screen look not so blurry. Despite the correlation between large print and being old, I found the the enlarged font to be quite easy on the eyes.
Please tell me I won't be purchasing polyester pants and banded bottom blouses anytime soon.
I hope to start reading the book today. That is, however, if I can get the three bored and whiny girls out of my living room. I've had Caroline on house arrest since we found out about the pneumonia and consequently our house has been quite the gathering spot. Wait....isn't it a gathering spot anyway?
If I'm at the computer, they come down and play the Wii and if I go upstairs to the kitchen area, they're on my tail looking for a snack. There is simply nowhere to hide.
I've banned Caroline from the pool and from running around outside for a week to insure that she heals properly. It's my fault and I fully accept responsibility for my sad situation.
Because bowling is an indoor activity that doesn't involve much exertion, I took Caroline and her two friends this morning. We had a good time. Sort of.
No, we had fun. One of the girls doesn't like to lose and resorts to whining. Unfortunately she's not a great bowler so we heard a lot of whining. Many attempts were made to cajole her and convince her that it's ok to be a loser sometimes.
She didn't seemed convinced.
I hate having to walk on egg shells, down play the accomplishments of others and provide copious amounts of positive praise just to keep a kid from having an emotional breakdown over her bowling score. This girl is also the queen of the "it's not fair" talk. She has an older sister and reminds me of Jan Brady. Marcia, Marcia, Marcia.
Caroline doesn't like to lose either, but her poor sport emotion of choice is anger. Ooh, she gets mad. If she doesn't do something perfectly on the first try her eyes begin to water and she gets mad, stubborn, defensive and unwilling to heed anyone's advice. Teaching her to ride a two wheeler bike and how to roller skate did not bring out the most attractive qualities in either of us.
Fortunately I've had plenty of practice at being a loser, so I'm good at it. And gracious to boot.
I lost the first game. All three girls whipped me fair and square.
And then I changed balls.
With the help of the flaming red ten pound ball and the lane bumpers, I destroyed my competition.
I bowled an even 100.
Don't laugh. That's probably my highest score ever.
Overall we had a great time....and we topped off our bowling excursion with a trip to McDonalds.
Chicken nuggets will wipe a sour face off of any kid.
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