You're right, it's been two whole days. Bit early for a "the year so far" post, innit? Which is kinda, sorta what this is, but not really. I just wanted to go over what I've been doing for the past cuppla.
Days that is.
As you might imagine, that opening photo was taken in a book store, I won't say where, I'll let you figure it out. Simple really. Anyhoo, I took the photo while The Missus Herself was perusing a couple of cookbooks which she'd pulled off the bargain rack and was considering purchasing. Not both of them mind you, she always picks one. And only one. It's her way...
(No, I'm not like that. I had a pile of Bernard Cornwell books, three from the Saxon Tales, I do need to keep up with Uhtred, son of Uhtred, and the fourth was 1356, another tale featuring Sir Thomas of Hookton. What? You don't remember him from the first three books in The Grail Quest series. Go here and be educated.)
Anyhoo. While sitting there I decided to play with the new cellphone. That picture is one thing I did while waiting for my better half to draw up the plans for D-Day, I mean, choose a cookbook. (Come on, I'm a guy. We go in, we make our selection and then we're out again. We're decisive, quick, and no doubt spend far too much money because we're not, you know, selective. Women usually are selective. They ponder, they compare, they think about it.)
"Why don't you just get both of them?" I asked.
After a short pause to discern when I had grown an extra head, altogether as empty as the original, she answered, "Because I don't need both of them."
Rather than point out that she didn't "need" either of them, we have been married 39 years and neither of us has starved to death yet, we raised three kids, all of whom were well-nourished and...
But I digress. (Which I have discovered is also a lyric in a Fall Out Boy song. DAMHIK.)
One of the cookbooks was for soups. Turns out there was only one soup she found appetizing in the entire book. So she took a picture of that recipe. The horrors! I had visions of the copyright police descending upon our location and taking us off to copyright jail. But the moment passed. We were still free, The Missus Herself had made her selection and we were off to the register. Mission accomplished.
As we were low on fuel, we had to hit the tanker on the way home. Hhmm, that might not have been clear.
Big Girl was all gassed up, it was her human crew who were in need of sustenance. Perhaps a visit to a cheese shop?
No, we went to a restaurant instead, The Missus Herself had fish and chips, I had a rather nice buffalo chicken wrap.
No, that's not a combination of buffalo meat and chicken. Just in case you were wondering.
So that was Friday instant. Saturday was spent lying about, reading. Before diving into the Cornwell, I wanted to finish Solzhenitsyn's August 1914. Which had started rather slowly at some country house in Russia, picked up speed in the Masurian Lakes region of East Prussia (now in Poland) where Samsonov's Second Army was destroyed. Then it was back to Russia, hanging out with Russian college girls discussing politics, or something.
Sorry Господин Солженицын, try as I might, I couldn't finish your book. I did read it all the way through a long time ago, at least I think I did. I had the same problem with Tolstoy's War and Peace. That too started slow, got really interesting in the middle and then degenerated into an argument presented by the author that perhaps Napoléon was the Anti-Christ. Or something. An intellectual I'm not. Russian novels would not be something I'd study in school. Ever.
Sunday, yesterday as I write this, two days ago (or more) as you read this, I started into 1356 and watched some football. No, not at the same time, what would be the point of that, he asked with no little frustration.
"What did you do New Year's Eve, Sarge?", that fellow sitting way at the back asked.
Not much. As I mentioned the other day, I ain't much of a New Year's Eve guy. The Missus Herself was curled up with her iPad, I was binge watching Vikings, no, not the Minnesota variety, the Scandinavian ones. From a long time ago.
Anyhoo. I noticed that it was almost midnight, so I opened one of these...
Watched the ball drop in Times Square. Why? I don't know. Because it was there?
Turned the telly off, finished my stout, and went to bed.
Pretty exciting night.
But it's okay, I have all week to recover. I don't go back to work until the 9th. (Yes, the 9th of January, if you must know.)
Sunday, we went to church. For what it's worth I feel a rant regarding religion coming on, I won't subject you to it today. Perhaps I will never subject you to it. All I know is that religion can be pretty dry and boring here in New England. Where is the majesty? Where is the awe?
Yes, it was an extremely dull sermon. Is our pastor always like that? No. But I am sensing a trend. One I don't care for.
Watched some more football, and here I must confess that I was rooting for the Packers Sunday night. They were my team when I was a kid. Lombardi, Starr, Kramer, Nitschke (no, not Nietzsche, Nitschke, he was a linebacker, not a philosopher, well he might have been, but I digress), the guys who won the first two Super Bowls, back before all the hype.
I guess I should explain that my son-in-law, Big Time, is from Michigan and is a Lions fan. Yes, the Packers played the Lions Sunday night. Yes, the Packers won. Big Time not happy. Sarge happy. And so it goes...
Didn't do much at all on Monday. Well, I did decide, quite out of the blue mind you, that I should go for a walk...
Because I am most assuredly not ready for "the cart," not yet anyway.
Decided to do a turn "around the block," said block being depicted below...
Upon reaching that bit of my path at the lower left corner, my legs began asking, "So, we're going to sit down soon. Right?" And my fingers were saying, "Hey, cheapskate, next time buy better gloves to go out and walk, and what were you thinking anyway, ice freaking coffee? Really? In January?"
Well, I survived the walk. Having been reminded that I've been rather sedentary since my surgery back in August. Yes, August. Now don't look at me that way, it still kinda hurts and...
I know, I know. I need to quit whining, get off my substantial arse, and start getting some exercise.
No, it's not a "New Year's Resolution."
It's a "I don't want to go on the cart" resolution.
I should have started this months ago. How time flies.
So, how was your New Year's?