Monthly Archives: February 2011


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today’s posts brought to you by Deirdre, who strongly felt I should be posting

Well. . .I got bettuh!

Had a really bad headache yesterday, but I’m back to functional capacity today!

The most “exciting!” thing that’s happening is that, despite their best attempts to get it forwarded, all the mail is still showing up here. And some of, they’d really prefer down there. Today involved a phone call in which sorted through/opened mail over the phone and it was jointly determined which stuff needed to be mailed.

Actually, that happened twice. Once, before class, and again when I got home and found *more!* mail in the mailbox. While talking to the lady of the house, she related that when her husband had gotten off the phone with me earlier in the day, he had turned to her and said, “My, it’s like having your own little personal assistant up there! We should have taken her down her with us so she could straighten out everything down here!” (They’re seeing to another piece of property to either rent it again or sell it.)

I have the sneaking suspicion they both think I’m younger than I am, but, as I’ve said before, better to be an extraordinary 18 year old than an up-to-par 25 year old.

I am making progress in the amount-of-food-to-cook department. The first day I cooked enough for 4-6 people (depending on how hungry they were, and how many were males); the second day, it was enough for two. I pretty much nailed it today; let’s see if I can keep it up!


So the lady I’m house-sitting for arranged for the driveway to be plowed, all but a week in March. . .and this week.

So I get up this morning and there is snoooow on the ground and more is falling and I need to go to the grocery store, unless I want to eat canned Progresso soup for the next three days.

So I shovel the driveway. It’s a small driveway, at least the part I do. (It’s a small shovel, too.) There is a half-circle, as well; that is much bigger, but I don’t shovel it.

So then I came inside and found a message on my cell phone. It was the lady I’m house-sitting for, saying, “The plow guy doesn’t go on vacation till this Friday, so make sure your car is in the garage so he can plow you out!” (Note: my cell-phone will hence forth be shoveling the driveway with me.)

So then I looked out the window and he was plowing. Also, I saw a bigger snow shovel.

So then I went to the grocery store. Bulk bone-in chicken breasts were 99c a lb. But a roaster was 88c a lb. “Self,” I said, “Buy the roaster and cut it up; it’s the cheapest way to get variety when there is only one of you.”

So I bought the roaster and went home. Then I found out there are no sharp knives in this place.

So I cut it apart using a glorified serrated butter knife. And I put the back and wings in a pot and made chicken soup out of them. Too much chicken soup.

So it is a good thing that I went to the grocery store so that I wouldn’t have to eat soup for several days. Right? Right.


(I say it with a smile, though, ’cause all in all the day went very well; it was just a lil’ heavy on the irony, is all.)

In other news, Ella (the cat) has decided I’m her friend now, even though Duke (the cat) keeps trying to tell her I’m a bad person.