Every small child/ youngster/person under roughly the age of 14 for about a 3 block range is currently screaming and/or crying their eyes out, indulging in some serious roughhousing that has already lead to injuries, or is otherwise trying to convince most of the others around here to become or remain child-free.
My own angel is currently 20 miles away, so no harm, no foul.
My own angel is currently 20 miles away, so no harm, no foul.
So, looking over the budget and the income/outgo situation of my household a bit closer, I notice something interesting: we go out to eat A LOT. This has to change for two reasons: 1. my waistline and 2. the rent. We can't afford this.
On the other hand, I also can't cope with being the only meal planner/grocery shopper/food preparer/dish washer along with all the work that I do, and I have zero desire to become a shrewish nag OR to have a nervous breakdown amid a storm of fruit flies.
So- I have a crock pot. It works well, although it is ancient. I have looked at a few recipes, mostly high in fat and salt and low in vegetable dating back to the stone age. That's kind of not ok.
I have looked at other recipes, and noticed that they appear to follow certain guidelines:
There's meat, a veg/fruit, and cream of something soup. I've seen chicken with grilled onions and pineapple in cream of celery soup. I am currently cooking pork with collard greens and lemon juice in cream of mushroom. A variation involves tomato sauce - Beef with tomatoes, carrots, and onions in tomato sauce.
Anyone have any recipes they want to share? I am already part of a couple of crock pot recipe groups, but a lot of the recipes seem to think I like a LOT of hot peppers or rice.
I'm trying to lose weight, so anything that includes a whole LOT of carbohydrates or a stick of butter is probably right out of the equation.
On the other hand, I also can't cope with being the only meal planner/grocery shopper/food preparer/dish washer along with all the work that I do, and I have zero desire to become a shrewish nag OR to have a nervous breakdown amid a storm of fruit flies.
So- I have a crock pot. It works well, although it is ancient. I have looked at a few recipes, mostly high in fat and salt and low in vegetable dating back to the stone age. That's kind of not ok.
I have looked at other recipes, and noticed that they appear to follow certain guidelines:
There's meat, a veg/fruit, and cream of something soup. I've seen chicken with grilled onions and pineapple in cream of celery soup. I am currently cooking pork with collard greens and lemon juice in cream of mushroom. A variation involves tomato sauce - Beef with tomatoes, carrots, and onions in tomato sauce.
Anyone have any recipes they want to share? I am already part of a couple of crock pot recipe groups, but a lot of the recipes seem to think I like a LOT of hot peppers or rice.
I'm trying to lose weight, so anything that includes a whole LOT of carbohydrates or a stick of butter is probably right out of the equation.
It isn't, technically, a real problem, but this is an odd situation, and one that I find worrying.
I've got this ex husband. As far as that sort of thing goes, we both put every effort into maintaining at least a distantly friendly relationship, for the sake of our now 15 year old daughter.
He has always had a hard time in a crisis. I don't know exactly why, but something that is, for most people, a very minor bump in the road is a HUGE, insurmountable task that will take him three to five days to accomplish, and he will want a week's vacation to recover from it. The latest instance - he needs to get his hands on his birth certificate. He has arranged to take today and possibly tomorrow of from work to get hold of one, so he can renew his license.
Yeah, he is taking two days off for this.
He calls me in a tizzy - he can't meet with me for five minutes today to do our once-a-week parent thing (one way we remain distantly friendly and also stay a step ahead of our daughter) because he has to focus on the above tasks.
I spent two minutes with google and reading a linked page, and came up with the information that he lives less than half a mile away from the location where he can get a copy of this, that the office hours are 8-5, here's the phone number, and it will cost him $15.00.
Why did it stay my job to help him with this crap? I am no longer his wife. I really don't see where this became my job, even when we were married.
Can anyone help me think of a way to get out from under this?
I've got this ex husband. As far as that sort of thing goes, we both put every effort into maintaining at least a distantly friendly relationship, for the sake of our now 15 year old daughter.
He has always had a hard time in a crisis. I don't know exactly why, but something that is, for most people, a very minor bump in the road is a HUGE, insurmountable task that will take him three to five days to accomplish, and he will want a week's vacation to recover from it. The latest instance - he needs to get his hands on his birth certificate. He has arranged to take today and possibly tomorrow of from work to get hold of one, so he can renew his license.
Yeah, he is taking two days off for this.
He calls me in a tizzy - he can't meet with me for five minutes today to do our once-a-week parent thing (one way we remain distantly friendly and also stay a step ahead of our daughter) because he has to focus on the above tasks.
I spent two minutes with google and reading a linked page, and came up with the information that he lives less than half a mile away from the location where he can get a copy of this, that the office hours are 8-5, here's the phone number, and it will cost him $15.00.
Why did it stay my job to help him with this crap? I am no longer his wife. I really don't see where this became my job, even when we were married.
Can anyone help me think of a way to get out from under this?
I am no longer permitted to read news articles that include graphic descriptions of heart attack/stroke/cancer or other potentially deadly illnesses. I abruptly begin to show all of the symptoms. I shall call it "Freshman Psychology Syndrome", in that it is related to how everyone in my freshman psychology class started diagnosing themselves with every mental illness every week. "OhmyGosh! I Totally Have that!" was a frequently heard remark.
Watching a history channel show about a tugboat team working on the Great Lakes. The theme song? A modern rock-y version of The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
That's just mean.
That's just mean.
Quilt show this weekend. In the middle of it. Having a wonderful time, with lots of good alone time afterwards at my apartment. I have a bunch of awesome new fabric (this is why I was trying to use up so much of what I had here at the apartment) and a whole lot of new patterns and some new friendly acquaintances and I have generated some pretty, pretty things. Craft-like creative things. I feel *WAY* better about the whole world, and I feel that I need to do something like this a lot more often.
Also: alone in the apartment for the win. Note: sewing naked is ok, but you do want to wear shoes in the event of a lost needle. Also, ironing nude is a bad idea, at least wear a shirt, no matter how hot it is.
DID have one unwelcome note: I showed the patchwork that I was working on to my boyfriend(outside of my comfort zone in color and technique) and a mutual friend felt the need to say that he didn't like it. My primary thought was "up yours" and my secondary thought was "how dare you". Not like it is his work, his project, anything he has anything to do with - he didn't even have to look at it if he hated it so badly. Who on earth pulls that shit? Do I get to tell him that I hate his tie or I think his new haircut makes him look way older than he is? I am not actually aware of anything that he does creatively outside of his work as someone that helps generate beekeeping frames, so I can't exactly give a good hard time back.
I did, however, add him to my list of people to never give anything to, ever.
Still loving on this weekend, and I get to go back tomorrow - only for a little while - but I did see some more cool fabric and a couple of rulers that I just GOTTA have. (Hey, it happens once a year, I get to live it up a bit...)
Also: alone in the apartment for the win. Note: sewing naked is ok, but you do want to wear shoes in the event of a lost needle. Also, ironing nude is a bad idea, at least wear a shirt, no matter how hot it is.
DID have one unwelcome note: I showed the patchwork that I was working on to my boyfriend(outside of my comfort zone in color and technique) and a mutual friend felt the need to say that he didn't like it. My primary thought was "up yours" and my secondary thought was "how dare you". Not like it is his work, his project, anything he has anything to do with - he didn't even have to look at it if he hated it so badly. Who on earth pulls that shit? Do I get to tell him that I hate his tie or I think his new haircut makes him look way older than he is? I am not actually aware of anything that he does creatively outside of his work as someone that helps generate beekeeping frames, so I can't exactly give a good hard time back.
I did, however, add him to my list of people to never give anything to, ever.
Still loving on this weekend, and I get to go back tomorrow - only for a little while - but I did see some more cool fabric and a couple of rulers that I just GOTTA have. (Hey, it happens once a year, I get to live it up a bit...)
Ryan (the beloved boyfriend) is staying out at his family's campground. We are still very happily together, just not physically so right now.
The roommate and his girlfriend and his two children are now spending 90% of the available time at HER room, rather than here in HIS room. Wise choice, given neither of them want to hear the sheer volume of "truthiness" I want to lay down on them, hardcore.
My apartment remains filled with the detritus of life and other people's belongings, but - oh, so quiet. I put something down, and it stays there. All the dishes in the sink? Mine. Food that I think is in the fridge is - SURPRISE! - in the fridge still.
Bliss.
Now excuse me while I run around naked for a while, singing show tunes. Please, for your sake, do NOT attempt to visualize this.
The roommate and his girlfriend and his two children are now spending 90% of the available time at HER room, rather than here in HIS room. Wise choice, given neither of them want to hear the sheer volume of "truthiness" I want to lay down on them, hardcore.
My apartment remains filled with the detritus of life and other people's belongings, but - oh, so quiet. I put something down, and it stays there. All the dishes in the sink? Mine. Food that I think is in the fridge is - SURPRISE! - in the fridge still.
Bliss.
Now excuse me while I run around naked for a while, singing show tunes. Please, for your sake, do NOT attempt to visualize this.