What’s for dinner?

Posted by goodoldgirl

I should be fixing myself something for dinner right now but it’s one of those nights when I just can’t figure out what I want. You know what I mean?

Nothing strikes me as the least bit appetizing and, besides, my cat Emily is sitting between me and the keyboard purring up a storm. I don’t want to upset her apple cart but I am beginning to get hungry. I guess I could nudge her off the desk and slyly mosey on into the kitchen but not much gets past Emmie and I still don’t know what I want to eat.

Well, that’s not completely true. I want a big bowl of mac and cheese and some scramble fried potatoes and about a gallon of ice cream.

Can’t have it.

Sigh.

When my daughter was small, and was a very picky eater by the way, she loved mac and cheese and green beans. Sort of an odd combination in my book. Anyway, she wouldn’t eat much else for about a year. One day she decided she didn’t like green beans and then it was mac and cheese and applesauce. That lasted for about a year too. After that, it was mac and cheese and broccoli. (Her taste buds were maturing.)

She went through a spaghetti phase too so I cooked that about three times a week for a year or so. One night she wanted spaghetti and I’d run out of canned tomatoes so I ended up sauteing some sliced mushrooms with butter and garlic salt and poured them over the spaghetti. She took one look and said, “What is this? Where is the red stuff? I’m not eating this.”

So, I made her sit there while I ate. I must have made a really good show of loving that stuff because she finally started eating and even wanted seconds. Mushroom spaghetti became a staple at our house and we both still love it.

Mushroom Spaghetti:

1 lb. of Sliced Mushrooms
8 oz. of Spaghetti
2-4 Tbsp. of Butter
Garlic Salt

Heat 4 cups water until boiling. Add spaghetti and cook until tender (but not too soft). In the meantime, melt butter in a saute pan then add mushrooms. Add garlic salt to suit your taste. Saute over medium-high heat until they look like they’re supposed to.* Stir to keep from burning. When done, add spaghetti to mushrooms and mix thoroughly. Serve with french bread and steamed broccoli. Serves one adult and one slightly starved 7-year-old.

Enjoy!

*Supposed to means no longer white or hard. You know, it means just the way you like them.

Gosh, I’m hungry now.

Old cats, new tricks!

Posted by goodoldgirl

Cats are people too!

Well, sort of.

At least mine seem to think they are.

Now, before you start thinking, “oh my gosh, not another old lady with cats,” let me explain that I have only two eleven year old cats, born a month apart. The reason I have two instead of one is that a former coworker managed to talk me into adopting one she had to give up.

The first one is a Siamese named Emily and the second is a Snowshoe named Oliver. Both were low-key, almost no maintenance, and a pleasure to have around — until about two years ago when they started acting like crabby, needy people and have been driving me crazy ever since.

The main reason I like cats in the first place is that they’re so low maintenance. They’re stand-offish, especially Siamese, and they sleep most of the time. Now that mine are older, though, they’ve become lap cats — and follow me all over the house cats — and meow at me constantly cats — and hair all over the place cats.

Between the two of them, they are my official timekeepers. At about 9:30 every night, Ollie walks up to me, lets out a string of plaintive meows, then heads for the stairs. He does this repeatedly until I turn off all the lights, etc. and follow him up to bed — or throw a coaster at him. (No, I don’t actually try to hit him. I just lob it in his direction to get him to go away and let me read my book for a while longer.) Emily, on the other hand, wakes me up every morning by sitting next to my head and purring — loudly. Who knew purring would make such a good alarm clock!

Okay, enough about cats — except for the pictures, of course …

Emmie

Ollie

How did I get here and what the heck am I doing?

Posted by goodoldgirl

It’s my baby sister’s fault.

She got me into this just like she got me into all kinds of stuff when she was a teenager and I should’ve known better. Of course, “baby” is a relative term, given that she’s past the half-century mark. But, I am definitely older and there’s another sister in between so I guess baby still applies.

Me, blogging!

Who’d a thunk it?

I don’t even like to talk.

If left alone, I can go for days without speaking. Unless one of the cats gets under foot and then I say things my Mom would be ashamed of me for saying. She washed my mouth out with soap when I was nine — but it didn’t take. It did, though, take me about forty years muster up enough nerve to buy a bar of Dove soap. I wouldn’t have even then except that my daughter spent about six months trying to convince me that it was really good for keeping your skin soft, and it does, so now I’m a convert and don’t get antsy in the shower at all. (No, they’re not paying me to say that and let’s just leave Norman Bates out of this discussion.)

Back to topic …

Given the choice between a room full of people and a good book, I’ll take the book every time. Not that I’m particularly anti-social. It’s just that I like to read — a lot. And, I’ll read almost anything but more about that some other time.

I read a magazine article once about how there are two kinds of people. For some, other people give them energy. For the rest, other people suck the life right out of us.

Now, don’t start thinking I hate people. I don’t. Not really. I mean, I wouldn’t want to go live in a cabin in the woods or anything. In fact, I don’t even like visiting out in the country except in cold weather, but that’s another story. I like the burbs (great movie, by the way) and being around people. I just don’t like to talk a lot. I’m shy. Kinda, sorta.

Enough of this for now. It’s getting late, I’m sleepy, and I have to work tomorrow.