So here we are. It's the weekend. We're about mid-way through March and on our 13 post of the month. I'm on my second cup of coffee and have been enjoying the quietude of my Saturday morning while catching up on my blog friends' posts. Outside it's cool and cloudy, in anticipation of the rains are supposed to come later tonight.
I love my Saturdays. Not only because it's Saturday but because of my little routines. Call me weird but I enjoy doing my little weekend errands: going to the dry cleaners, picking out groceries, getting supplies at Target and the like. I have to say this is one, of many, things that Chris and I work well together on. I don't know if he "loves" doing the errands but he at least likes to prepare what we're getting and where we are going, as do I. AND we do it together! We make a day of it. Not to compare but I guess I will, in a prior life I did this all by myself, no appreciation for the task(s). I love shopping!
This morning and early afternoon will consist of the above, as they always do. Chris and I enjoy our routines. After our errands we'll come back put the groceries and supplies away. (Again, not to compare - oh, never mind!) We'll then take Bandit for a walk. On our way back from the walk, we'll stop off at the shed and load up on some firewood.
We'll then tinker around on the computer, read the newspaper, perhaps make some phone calls then we'll get the fire going and start dinner. I do the fire. He does the dinner. I can't cook for sh*t. That is unless it's hard boiled eggs, toast or boiling pasta (though even the pasta is a bit of a stretch).
I never got the gay cooking gene. So many of my gay friends are just phenomenal cooks. I just don't get it. On the rare occasion I do cook, I need explicit directions: get a wooden spoon from the drawer that's closest to the sink, lift it out from the plastic tray, close the draw, walk over to the stove (that would be the top part not the bottom, that's the oven), place the spoon that's in your hand into pot and while still holding the spoon stir in a counterclockwise fashion.
Too much work. I'd much rather eat it! For a fine cooked meal I do appreciate! And I do appreciate the art of it all, just not when I'm preparing the art. For instance what trips me up is how people can improvise a meal: use a smattering of this...maybe I'll mix that with this...it should probably be cooked at 375 for about 20 minutes. Probably! How do you know! I guess all that comes with experience which I am obviously lacking.
So back to our Saturday...
While dinner is preparing, we'll open up a bottle of Cabernet, and have a couple glasses of wine. (We'll probably open the bottle we got last weekend from our favorite shop.) We'll bring the wine upstairs by the fireplace. Sometimes we'll just sit and chit-chat; other times the television goes on. If we watch TV it's usually a home improvement show, HGTV. He likes the SciFy channel, not me. That's one thing we don't agree on. Once the low budget, poorly acted with cheesy special effects movies come on I retreat to Facebook and the like.
Of course Bandit doesn't care about the TV. As long as he's nearby, lying on floor or on his favorite couch he's content.
Anyway, onto the day.