purple room vents: THROUGH AND TROUGH

The English language is so ridiculous sometimes. No two words could be almost spelt the same but sound completely different. Throo and troff. Oooo and offff. Sure.

Well dinner turned out pretty good. The chicken was delicious. I just ate a scrawny little wing but it was delish. But those onions and peppers underneath were heaven. The cornbread was a bust. It didn't have the soft almost gooey centre. It was really course and believe it or not...kind of dry. The creamed corn was out of this world. I added a small amount of green salsa which perked it up some. When I make my own I usually add lemon but I used salsa this time. And the greens were.....greens. It sounds like making dinner is an event. I actually make dinner for the three of us pretty much every night!

You know how over the years we have made jokes that you should never leave a couple of hangers alone in a closet...they propagate into huge numbers. Well I think we can say the same about containers. Holy Jeez!!! And today was sort it all out and lid everything. What doesn't get lidded get tossed.

I hauled out my huge rubbermaid, I say so easily, from the bottom of the pantry cupboard...Graeme will know what I am talking about. It is full to the overflow with a mish mash of plasticness. Do any of you remember that old old radio story about that cupboard, Magillvary's (that only sounds like the name, can't spell it) cupboard, that when they opened it, which they did on every show, there would be the sound of things, all kinds of things, falling for a good minute? Well thats what pulling that rubbermaid out caused, on my head.

Every time I do this project I swear I am going to keep things lidded before they go back into that rubbermaid. Yeah well, like that didn't happen. And there will be twenty square lids, at least twenty square bottoms, and not one lid fits any of them. How the hell does that happen anyway?

So, tomorrow, now that I have it all rounded up ready to go, I will sit in my red rolly kitchen chair and sort frigging plastic containers. These are the little 'housewife' jobs (if you don't have kids around that would probably enjoy the task) that Erma Bombek, the ultimate author of 'housewife' lives, never wrote about.

I am on a ton of pills, keeping me alive after living a lovely long self indulgent life. I am grateful for them.

I decided to do a deep google dive into them and have discovered why at least 80 percent of the food that goes into my mouth tastes different and unpleasant compared to years ago. Five of those pills are the top contenders that cause this side effect! So Monte has to stop getting impatient with me when I don't like something...which happens all the time.

The latest? This morning. I drove up to Canadian Tire to pick up Monte who was leaving his van up there. Needs a new thermometer. Anyway, Canadian Tire is right beside Wendy's so we decided to go there to get some breakfast.

I ordered the French toast. I LOVE French toast and almost never have it. I started to eat it and stopped. It simply didn't taste right. Neither did the coffee. This gets kind of depressing once in a while. It's so prevalent. And you would think I would lose weight but whilst studying all this I also found out two of the meds keep you from losing and in fact cause weight gain. So fat I am and fat I stay. At 70 who cares what you look like and the damage isn't continuing by me but by the drugs. Hahaha!!!! Win win!!!

Well it's time to go pluck my chin. This is def NOT my fave pastime. I have a magnifying mirror. You would think it would be quick and easy. NOT!!! I have wonky eyes and it takes a good three minutes or more to pluck here and pluck there, chasing a very visible little critter. I finally give up and throw my mirror and tweezer across the room. It is so frustrating not being able to pin it down. I think I am going to buy that smelly cream that burns it off. You aren't supposed to use it on your face but it's either that or grow a lopsided beard. (they only show up on the left side of my face.)

Have a great day and TTYL

'Women with whiskers, it's a bummer.' Phil Robertson

Well screw off Phil!