Better the Second Time Around

I've changed my mind about leftovers.   I used to turn up my nose at leftovers.  My husband always had free reign to snack on them, take them for lunch and eventually feed them to the dog.  Much to his dismay, there was no way I was serving them for dinner.   He comes from a family where food showed up on the table night after night until it was all gone.

I made a few exceptions.  Anything in the soup family was good for a second night.  Thanksgiving turkey was used for sandwiches for at least a week.  Pizza. That was pretty much it though.

Recently, I have done a complete about face and also figured out why it was I didn't like to cook leftovers.  There was never enough for all four of us to get a complete second meal.  That essentially meant having to cook two half meals to feed the whole family.  Working Moms don't have time for nonsense like that. 

Things are different now.  Since it's mostly just my dear husband and me for dinner these days there's usually enough for a second meal when I cook something.  I'll even cook a little extra to make sure there are leftovers.  Cuts cooking time in  half, saves on groceries and makes my husband very happy. 

Sorry dogs, you'll just have to be satisfied with your kibble.

Plus: He Looks Good Doing It

Barack Obama is not only my President, he's also my FaceBook Friend (FBF, not to be confused with BFF, as much as I would love hanging out with him it's probably not going to happen).   As his FBF I see the updates he posts on the really cool, progressive stuff he is doing. 

As a bonus, at least initially, I am amused by reading the moronic comments written by people who seem to split their time between playing Farmville, watching Jerry Springer and Glen Beck and listening to Rush Limbaugh.    The entertainment factor of these misspelled, gramatically incorrect, ill informed comments gives way eventually to a sinking feeling in my stomach that cable TV and the internet have ruined our ability as a people to a) think for ourselves or b) put together a sentence with subject, verb and object.  God help us all.  My only hope is that all along we have had this idiotic fringe and the only difference is they now have a platform to spew their hate and ignorance.

Anyway, Barack, my FBF, also posts pictures of the White House goings-on.  That's where I got the above picture.   I must say, President Obama has it going on.  I'm not sure I'm supposed to have these sorts of feelings when looking at a photo of the POTUS.   I remember the following emotions from images of former Presidents: Carter - sympathy, Reagan - bewilderment, Bush Sr. - indifference, Clinton - amusement, Bush Jr - disgust.    Never has a Presidential photo elicited long dreamy gazes and heavy sighs.   That swagger, the confidence, the handsome good looks.    I'm sure I'm doing exactly what his PR media folks are expecting me to do and as much as I hate being anybody's pawn, it's working.  Keep the photos coming.

Fashion Disaster Plate

I usually don't go out on a fashion limb.  Hell, I'm usually firmly on the ground hugging the tree trunk when it comes to fashion.  I like white and black clothes.  They go well with every other color.  You simply can't mess it up.  Perhaps you look boring, but you never look mismatched.  When I really want to make a statement I do black and white together.  Bold move, I know. 

I have a long history of making poor fashion decisions. I blame it on my mother.  Don't take pity on her.  She's used to taking the blame.    She has gladly accepted responsibility for my big feet, my mild heart defect, my thin lifeless hair and my introverted personality.   I in turn am responsible for the genetic crosses I have laid across my children's shoulders.   It's the whole circle of life - Take the bad with the good - Shutup and work with what you got - thing. 

Why do I blame my poor fashion sense on my mother.  See that picture above.  I ran across it on the internet.  It's a "vintage" pattern.  That picture could be me, circa 1969, complete with pixie haircut, turtleneck and poncho.  I think it actually might BE me.  Butterick owes me some royalties.  God I hate pixies.

Here's another sample from my childhood wardrobe.  Stirrup pants.  I had a pair that was exactly this color green.  A humiliating choice when paired with a little sweater vest over a turtleneck.

Or how about this number.  The BOX dress.  Mine was a yellow plaid number made of wool.  Ugly and itchy to boot.   That dress was also responsible for my most embarrassing first grade moment.  I neglected to put a shirt underneath it one morning when I decided to give Mom a break and dress myself for school.  I left her sleeping as I walked to school not realizing (or maybe just not caring) that my little girl chest was on display for anyone who looked at me from the side.  My mother was called to come get me and told to put some proper clothes on me.



Sure, these clothes look all mod and retro now but they were the stuff of nightmares to a girl who just wanted to wear bell bottom pants with cool vests.  Or a kicky little dress with a scarf and white go-go boots.  Sigh. 

My whole life my outfits have always been a little off or a step behind or they just don't fit right.  From tube tops and nylon "scene" shirts in '76 to the orange leather trench coat with the rabbit fur collar in '78.  I learned to accept that "style" just does not come naturally to me.   Then as I got older I realized that "my" style does come naturally to me.  I know what I like, I know what I'm comfortable in and black and white never go out of style.

Miscellany

Not feeling inspired to blog about anything lately.  Lots of activity, all of it fun none of it significant.

I had a wonderful 4th weekend. We hosted a small BBQ on Saturday. I tried several new recipes. Some were a hit (the chicken wings and baked pita chips went over really well), one was a tasteless nightmare (the “tangy” coleslaw was most definitely not tangy) and the rest were OK. We have decided that ribs should ALWAYS be pre-cooked before grilling and that staying home to watch the fireworks from our own backyard can’t be beat.


Most of Sunday was spent recuperating from the BBQ with a quick run to the dog park. It was oppressively hot and the dogs were only able to muster a little enthusiasm which quickly disappeared. They were happy to go back to the air conditioned car when it was time to leave. That was OK by me because the park was mostly empty. Half the fun for me is seeing and petting all the other dogs we meet there.

Our big ambitious project of painting the family room this weekend did not happen. Instead we went to IKEA and planned out a craft room. I have lots of plans for my craft room. Scrapbooking for sure. I’ve also decided to try my hand at beading. Plus it will be a nice place to store all those half finished projects I have stuffed all over the house. There are loads of other miscellaneous projects I’d like to try. Husband is giving me the old "you better practically live in that room if we go to all the trouble to set it up." Yeah, yeah....

Five week countdown to Germany starts today. Most of the time will be spent at my Uncle's farmhouse in Mahlow which is just south of Berlin. Every time I've visited Berlin I run out of time to see everything I want to see. So today I booked a studio apartment in downtown Berlin for 3 nights. It's pictured above.  We'll be right near the Brandenburg Gate, Checkpoint Charlie and all the museums. We will be able to roam the city for a few days. Should be wonderful.