First, MizBubs, dynamic homemaker, baked a delicious blueberry pie.
Then we found out that her brother would be in town from San Antonio to watch her nephew compete in a bike race. We had a great visit, and he helped us drink some of our surplus beer and sangria left over from the 5th.
Then came the overtime, only a few hours of it though. I work for a smaller department. We normally have two detective sergeants and six detectives, but we've been short a detective since last September. My fellow sergeant just left for NY on vacation, one of the detectives is on vacation in Puerto Rico, another detective is on light duty after falling backwards out of a chair onto a concrete floor, and another is detached to a burglary task force for the next week. My Nextel started chirping Saturday morning, so I went in for a few hours to help deal with a couple of situations that turned out to not be so bad after all: one of our local gang members alleged he got slashed on the hand by his girlfriend's ex-boyfriend, and a local business received a death threat from an ex-employee.
The Fry Daddy came out this weekend and got used for scallops and catfish. I got some decent fresh scallops, and here's what I did with them:
-rolled them in flour seasoned with creole spices
-dipped them in a beaten egg
-rolled them in panko
-threw em in the fryer for about 3 minutes
They nearly doubled in size, and were amazingly flavorful and tender.
MizBubs, gentlewoman farmer, harvested green beans, lettuce, radishes and nasturtium, and all that green was a welcome counterpart to the fried seafood and the sweet potato fries. Then we settled in and watched movies all night. First up was the surprisingly funny and kind-hearted Superbad (favorite line: "You just cock blocked McLovin!") followed by George Romero's Diary of the Dead.
Sunday was a beautiful day, and the occasion for my newest niece's baptism. The service was wonderful, and their priest did a fine sermon. Plus, after seeing the baby welcomed into their faith community, my brother treated us all to a fine fried chicken dinner at White Fence Farm. I knew right away that I'd like the place when I saw a giant fiberglass rooster at the front entrance. The fried chicken was outstanding.
This was occasion for my first foray into a Catholic church in several months--we've been struggling between a return to the Catholicism of our upbringing and re-committing to the liberal American Baptist congregation where we've attended church for over a decade. I won't get into a long discussion about the relative merits of the two experiences, but I will say this--when did short pants and your cleanest Sox jersey become acceptable attire for church? When did people just start holding fairly audible and obvious conversations throughout the service?
I'm sure it's not like this with fundamentalists, but at the two R.C. churches and the American Baptist church I've attended I've seen people chewing gum, walking in with go cups of coffee, and looking like they're on their way to a picnic or a ball game, not a house of worship. And don't give me that "it's not important how you look, it's that you care enough to go" nonsense either. The coffee-slurping, shorts-wearing church goers in both congregations definitely gave off the vibe of shuffling through an obligation more than making a joyful noise, believe me. But I'm just an asshole who has no right to comment anyway, since more Sundays than not I just sleep in.
My eldest describes herself as an atheist (I remember those days--I described myself the same way in my late teens) but has a highly-developed sense of propriety when it comes to church-going. This is what she said in regards to the carelessly dressed:
"I may not believe, but at least I respect."
_________________________
Which brings me to the virgin birth. No, not that one.
Our female cockatiel Daisy laid an egg. There is no mister cockatiel in her life, and this was the second egg she's laid in the past 2 weeks.
Turns out that female cockatiels, if they feel comfortable enough in their environment, can just spontaneously produce and lay eggs. Sometimes they develop a freaky attachment to a favorite toy in their cage and get busy with it. MizBubs, girl genius, knew about this since she actually reads books. She also knew what to do about it.
It turns out that virgin egg-laying is not healthy for the bird. It can deplete calcium and harm them if it continues. So, after the first egg, MizBubs put Daisy in another cage and moved that cage to the tiki bar for a few days while she cleaned out and changed the toys in the original cage. After a week or two Daisy was returned to her re-arranged cage, and promptly swelled up and laid another egg. I guess she's really happy and comfortable.
And now it's time to return to the work week. I will leave you with dog pictures.
Our female cockatiel Daisy laid an egg. There is no mister cockatiel in her life, and this was the second egg she's laid in the past 2 weeks.
Turns out that female cockatiels, if they feel comfortable enough in their environment, can just spontaneously produce and lay eggs. Sometimes they develop a freaky attachment to a favorite toy in their cage and get busy with it. MizBubs, girl genius, knew about this since she actually reads books. She also knew what to do about it.
It turns out that virgin egg-laying is not healthy for the bird. It can deplete calcium and harm them if it continues. So, after the first egg, MizBubs put Daisy in another cage and moved that cage to the tiki bar for a few days while she cleaned out and changed the toys in the original cage. After a week or two Daisy was returned to her re-arranged cage, and promptly swelled up and laid another egg. I guess she's really happy and comfortable.
And now it's time to return to the work week. I will leave you with dog pictures.
13 comments:
I haven't been to the White Fence Farm in probably 30 years - when I was married, we took the kids there once after we'd been out in the "country" for the day. Loved the big rooster, don't recall the food. Besides, I was likely drunk.
As for the Virgin Egg-Laying Boid, I would really worry if the eggs actually hatched.
I love your daughter's comment, although I resent her being so wise AND so young.
Wow, so much to comment on!
1. I LOVE blueberry pie. Now I'll have to make on of my own.
2. I LOVE scallops but they are whooping expensive here in Minnesota.
3. Ever read the books "The Gift of Fear" and "Protecting the Gift"? I'd like to hear a law-enforcement professional's comment.
4. I'm with your daughter.
5. I don't like birds. They are creepy
6. I really like dogs.
7. Ever fried up some squash blossoms? They are delicious.
Hell, I get dressed up to fly. I totally don't get the going to church in gym clothes thing, particularly not for a special occasion.
If you're open to a new church, my parents go to the radical Episcopalian church in Park Ridge--lots of the traditional pomp, but very liberal and political. It's cool.
I converted to the church of Monday Night Football a few years back.
Dammit. I knew I should have crashed in on y'all this weekend.
Of course the bubs clan would be the proud owners of a happy comfy cock. There was never any doubt.
I loved Superbad, too. It was one of my favey movies.
You noshed beautifully and always do. Ah, yas know how to throw a real spread.
Sorry you got called into work. I'm glad you managed to have some fun.
That Miz Bubs is a keeper!
That pie, the book readin', the farming! She rocks! As do you and those fabulous daughters of yours.
Damn, you all sure know how to live right over there at the Ramshackle Compound.
You saved it all up for days didn't you?
I hope her freaky attachment isn't to one of the dogs. Individually, they're all cute, but not sure I'd want to see a combo.
And can I just say your daughters are extremely impressive?
The daughter knows what time it is, yar. I hate to tell you this, though, but not all of us grow out of our atheism, even in the foxhole.
Those are some happy dogs.
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