Wild mushroom and havarti cheese pizza
Roasted pork flank stuffed with spinach, garlic, roasted pine nuts and asiago cheese and topped with a port wine/dijon reduction.
Roasted root vegetables (carrots, fennel, onion, parsnips, turnips--and garlic, of course!)
Roasted yukon gold potatoes with parsley and olive oil
Cream cheese tarts (lemon, cherry or strawberry)
Chocolate and peanut butter chip cookies
The food was divine. The company was awesome. My husband was so surprised he nearly cried. I don't think he's had more than two birthday parties in his life, and I threw both of them for him. Our friends gave him theater tickets, so I win too! Woohoo!!!
We have been friends with these people for 16 years. Before them, Frank and I didn't really have other 'couple' friends. We all moved into the same neighborhood at the same time, with kids around the same ages. It was a huge family. We used to tease that it was a commune. Some friends have fallen out of the group, but these eight (ten of us all together) are keepers.
My poor hubs has a cold. It's the same cold I had last week. He moans. He groans. He hangs his head and looks bleary-eyed. But he is a trooper and still went out for dinner with me on our usual Saturday night date. At dinner, he says, "I'm sorry if I'm being a bummer. I really wanted to have some time with you tonight, but I feel..." and then went down the list of his ills. For the hundred and fifteeth time today. And I sympathized. For the hundred and fifteeth time today. And then:
Says I, "Yeah, you have what I had last week. It's not fun."
Says hubs, "You were sick last week?"
Says I, "Yes." And then I grin. "Exactly."
He's lucky he's so cute.
What I am wondering is, is it me? Because if the world were this obsessed with books there would be far fewer rejection letters going out! Are these the kinds of books I choose without realizing it? Or do you find the same thing?
A story: My honey and I were watching Saturday Night Live the other night. Are you familiar with Kristen Wiig's character, Gilly? The awkward, diabolical girl with the black fro and an overbite? "Sorry," is her catchphrase.
So a few minutes after her bit this week, my husband's nodding off when suddenly he picks his head up and says, "Did we ever get her a birthday present?"
"What? Who were we supposed to buy a present for?"
"That girl. The one with the frizzy black hair. Did we get her anything?"
While I stared at him trying to decide whether to laugh or shake my head in astonishment, he fell back to sleep. I thought that was pretty funny.
Tough as he is, he's NEEDY!!! I sat in that hospital room watching him sleep so many hours of every day while I got no writing done, nothing done in the house, while the kids were left on their own, while the cats ran amuck. And then he'd tell me, "Go home. Get some writing done. It's ok." With which he'd follow, "I just need you." Yesterday, he called me in a panic because he couldn't get the nurses to come. When I got there, he was entertaining two of them, all smiles. The man can do anything. He can build a house with rocks and mud. He could seriously win Survivor. His strength of will alone has seen him through more adversity than most people will ever experience. But he needs me to hold his hand while he sleeps.
Now THAT is power. Mwhahahahahaaa! What? Were you expecting something sentimental? No way! He'll be home for the next two solid weeks before we go down to Myrtle Beach. I may kill him before then. Maybe not.
Tough as he is, I think it's a well-known fact that I'm tougher when it comes to such things. I'm not saying what he experienced wasn't painful, but the stoic under such circumstances, he is not. He moans and groans and whines and complains. I nearly bled to death several times a month ago, yet still no one knows how terrible I felt, how close I came to being in real trouble. No one knows when I'm sick. Everyone in the house, work and for several towns surrounding know when Frank has a cold. I suppose that makes him the smart one! He got help right away. I ended up having a transfusion. But this is what makes us a good team. I'm the calm. He's the storm. He knows it. I know it. It's an understanding here in the house. If you need your tire changed at four in the morning, call Dad. If you need someone to hold the world at bay while you gain your bearings, call Mom.
It works. Thank goodness he's as good at looking out for me as I am looking out for him. :)
Scott: Dense? Dad, that doesn't even make sense.
Frank: Not dense, 'dents. Like when you called us 'rents last night. 'Dents, as in depenDENTS.
I thought that was pretty funny. Frank was very pleased with himself. I don't know what Scott thought but he laughed. I hope it was in a good way. ;)
Happy Anniversary, Frankie-baby. You owe me at least another thirty. You promised.