OK, kids, time for housecleaning, which means I clean out the lint-trap of my brain and ramble a bit more randomly rather than my usual obsessively on-topic m.o.
I will be beset by the Kalifornia relative ass-wads in exactly one month, which means that I'll be having my pyramid at the same time. Oh, joy. Asshole west-coast liberals, constant in-law social obligations with no me-time, period and its concomitant mud-butt(thank you, Dave Chapelle): JOY!
I have begun spring gardening to get the flowerbeds all gussied up in anticipation of lots of company in April. Spent a grueling day gardening yesterday - but a labor of love, it is. Got some new lavender, and loads of African daisies, ultra-vivid ultra-blue lobelia(favorite!), some heart-breakingly intense dahlias, and sundry other little deadlies for the garden. I also got a wonderful array of shade-lovers for the front-entry garden area. That should be fun. I would be out planting again today, but I need to give the aching body a rest, and I'll hit it again on my off day tomorrow. I noticed today that my big pot of cactus has the tell-tale signs of buds. Here to refresh your memory are blossoms from last spring. Looking forward to more of same. Got this in Yuma, Arizona 2 years ago February, and the cactus and pot weighed about 60 pounds at that time. Now it's probably double that. I'll try to get a current photo soon. What's odd, is the arms of the cactus now are all kind of hunkered together, but when it was blooming, they all spread out and reached in different directions. Maybe it's a winter/spring thing.
I went and grabbed some Popeye's fried chicken for lunch, which I don't do very often because it's difficult to eat fried chicken with my braces, these days. A word on phlegmmy's fried chicken pedagogy: spicy or mild, an important part of your fried chicken experience is proper application of the jalapeno. (We recommend dark meat, btw, and opine that chickens should be available in all-dark only, but we'll take this up with the responsible party at a later date. ) Nibble off the tip of your pickled jalapeno, and dribble its juice over the crust of your fried chicken. Hawtdamn, but that's good. Doglet and I sat at the table poolside and she got the little crummy bits and the occasional hunk of chicken, and lots of the biscuit. Now, storebought fried is different from home-fried - home-fried is too good to sully with garnishes of any kind, and must be eaten with the fingers. (big propers to God, for making me Southern, btw)
One more thing about fried chicken - if you are single and want to hook up permanently with a romantic partner, perfect the art of frying chicken and you will have them lined up at the door. But be careful who you share your goodies with - make sure someone is worthy of your fried chicken before you force them to fall in love with your recipe- for such a conquest is not easily divested once won. Any person worth having will fall in love with you based solely on your mad chicken-frying skills, and you can take that to the bank.
My sister is going to dip her toe in the pool of roller-derby soon, and I'll go along for moral support. Husband asked me if I was going to do that too. Seriously. He seriously asked me that. Now, I'm ENOUGH of a ball-buster to do roller derby, but I don't like looking that mussed in public, and trust me, with 12+ years of hausfrau rage, I would get seriously ugly on they ass. Sis can represent the whole clan ably, I believe, because she's a hot sexy gal, and is so mean she makes me look like a little lamb, heh heh. Look out, roller-bitches!