Category Archives: mawwiage

this is what happens…

…when you let men into your kitchen.

(a tragedy in two acts)

Our wonderful friend Nigel came to visit for a week in December, and that was very fun and also a nice break for me because he took on the task of washing the dishes while he was here (we still don’t have a dishwasher). Which was so very helpful and wonderful that I considered asking him to stay permanently, but, tragically, he also has other friends. He may also have said something about a family…

Okay, okay, I’m KIDDING! Anyway, he couldn’t stay. But before he left, I made something for dinner that involved my imported-from-America-because-Europeans-Just-Don’t-Get-It cast-iron skillet. I should have washed it before I went to bed, I know that, I don’t know why I didn’t, but yeah. I didn’t.

So Nigel did. He was very careful not to use the scratchy-plastic side of the sponge (um. It is cast-iron. You could scrub it with a pitchfork, and it wouldn’t mind.), but he sure got all that nasty grease out (there should be an eye-rolling emoticon).

And then DrBob came in and said uh-oh, oh dear, no! You have to oil it! Because, some five years ago now, he’d seen me season the pan (coat it with vegetable oil, inside and out, put it in a hot oven for awhile) and somehow he remembered that you should leave a puddle of some kind of oil in the pan (it looks like he used olive oil…), and set it on the stove for… however long. What he didn’t remember? Was to turn off the stove. I found it when I got up at seven the next morning, the tiniest of blue flames under my beloved skillet. And inside?

Well, the center was completely dry and devoid of any evidence that it had ever held moisture of any kind – a bit like the planet Mercury – and around the outer edge was… um… hm. I think DrBob may have invented a new adhesive. Perhaps we should contact NASA.

Does anybody know how to salvage this? Actually, I’m not sure it’s even worth a try, since it’s really too small for a family of four, especially one that contains a 15-year-old and is thus, for feeding purposes, a family of six.

Song du jour of the day: Sweet Home Alabama, by Lynyrd Skynyrd

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Smiling through the gritted teeth, not so much, lately

Sez Amy:

I should probably just figure out a way to be pleasant while in crisis mode.

Actually, when we were closing the deal on the house and it started raining in the kitchen, everybody – the plumber, the real estate agents, the insurance guys, the sellers – they all remarked on how cheerful I managed to stay during what was undoubtedly a setback (euphemism, much?). But that only lasted a week or so. We’re in month 3 of Overworked Husband mode now, and I just… my fake-smile muscles are wearing out.

It’s probably also partly SAD, only not SAD, because I’m not disordered. Is there a SAGB, Seasonal Affective General Bitchiness? That’s what I’ve got.

Song du jour of the day: I Hate Myself for Loving You, by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. Apropos of nothing, I just already used The Bitch is Back this year.


hi honey…

DrBob is home from Groningen! I’m so happy to see him! He’s reading over my shoulder as I type! YAY!

Song du jour of the day: DrBob is making me use Lament I, “Bird’s Lament”, by Moondog. Whothehellis Moondog?


some cheese with that whine?

Blogging every day might be hard, because sometimes I get in A Bad Mood, and the thing about my paper journals was I could gritch all I wanted because no one was ever going to read them. Now that I know I have an audience, I feel like I should at least try to be entertaining. And I am in a Bad Mood, because Robert is going to Berlin tomorrow and I am not.

Piffle.

Song du jour of the day: Only Time Will Tell, by Asia. Sorry about the gymnast, it was the 80s.


how cute are we!?

Pyzam Family Sticker Toy
Now go make your own!

h/t to Chicka


and then my head exploded

In the Netherlands there are international schools, and Catholic schools, and bilingual schools and schools that focus on the Humanities, schools that prepare kids for university, or for various professions – there are altogether too many choices to get my head around, frankly. Oh, and I checked out the website of one school, and in the news-bit they said that all but 30 of the applicants got in, or something like that, which means we have to choose a first- and a second-choice school, just in case. Yay. Continue reading


sigh

Tomorrow is San José Day, the (hang on, counting on my fingers…) 14th (gah!) anniversary of the day DrBob and I met… in Quito International Airport. Um. We were on the same flight from San José, Costa Rica, and actually it was in San José that I first saw him, though I don’t know if he saw me there – goodness, what a thing not to know about your spouse after 14 years, eh? Anyway. We first spoke in Quito. First kissed in Cuenca. First… um, wait. Do my nieces still read this blog? Okay, nevermind.

The point I was planning to make is: he’s not here. He also won’t be here on his birthday, in about three weeks. This distance thing is losing its shine.

Song du jour of the day: Summer Kisses, Winter Tears by The King.