Saturday in CinCity


please note: photo by kyfirefighter on flickr



Thanksgiving has come and gone and my refrigerator and I are stuffed to the gills. I went off the skids this year; tried new recipes for the turkey and stuffing--Maple Glazed and Bourbon/Bacon. Both turned out surprisingly to be quite good. Even after the effects of the bourbon tasting had worn off. CollegeGrrrrl was only able to be home--actually in the house she was raised in--for about 5 minutes after visiting her grandmother in Indiana because of the horrible driving conditions and multiple weathermen threatening us with snow and icy roads. That was very disappointing for all of us and we owe her a dinner. She was here long enough for me to pack up some stuffing and rolls for her, but the turkey had just come out of the oven and was way too hot to carve. Protein is way overrated, though, and we do love our carbs here in the Distracted household.

Cleared the table, divided food into Gladware and, utilizing very precise equations of physics, squished it all into the fridge. It now has yellow CAUTION tape over the door. Got the dishes half done/half soaking just in time to watch Charlie Brown and get ready for bed. Worked the next day, but not too much drama for dayshift. Multiple strokes were being called up as we were heading out the doors.

We did not look back.


I'd like to be shopping at my local stores up on Ludlow



for Small Business Saturday, but my wallet and the firefighter paper due on Tuesday disagree. They apparently are not givers like I am. Maybe, though, if I stop blogging, and don't look at FaceBook, I could get my homework done and just go up to a take a little tiny peek at the store windows. There can be no harm in that, right?? Right??...

oooohhhh, and now I'm hungry again. And my cuppa coffee's empty. I'll be there Firefighter Paper. I'm getting started. Stop pressuring me!!! :>)




Flying at Night

by Ted Kooser



Above us, stars. Beneath us, constellations.
Five billion miles away, a galaxy dies
like a snowflake falling on water. Below us,
some farmer, feeling the chill of that distant death,
snaps on his yard light, drawing his sheds and barn
back into the little system of his care.
All night, the cities, like shimmering novas,
tug with bright streets at lonely lights like his.

please note: photo by John Curley on flickr

Comments

  1. Recipes sounded delicious and put a shiver of adventure into your Thanksgiving story.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hope College Grrl had a safe trip. Good luck with your paper, and thanks for sharing the Kooser!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Glad you got to share moments with your family. Our T'giving was simple, and the first one sans daughters and beloved mother-in-law. Food was courtesy the locally owned grocer, except for the cranberry relish, which was made by yours truly.

    ReplyDelete
  4. All that talk of working through your weekend is just the bourbon talking.

    I say live a little and do a little window shopping. It'll refresh your brain for those firefighters.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

Popular posts from this blog

A Year with EB White

The Poet Goes to Indiana by Mary Oliver

Goldfinches by Mary Oliver