Swish and spit, Mr. Gift Horse.

That one.


I have SOOOOOOO suffered with that frigging one.


How do they use EVERY goddamn pan in the place (we once had fourteen frying pans...I won't bother with why....and every one of them, and the 24 saucepans were used...and all filled with burnt on glug...WHAT is that about?!!!)??? HOW????

heehee....

I hate when that happens. Right now, I don't have to worry about it (don't hit me, cause 'not worrying about it' ain't what its cracked up to be)!

Okay, this used to happen a lot, but as of now it's a non-issue:

I am an okay cook, but with men I like I enjoy going to restaurants many times a week and enjoying nice meals. If I invite, I pay. Not to toot my own horn, but I don't make a lot of money and yet I am generous with what I can give. Order what you like, let's have a good time, right? I try to think and consider what the other person likes as far as food/atmosphere/etc. and find a nice new place to try or find somewhere we'd both like.

*someone* I won't name names here - would take me to restaurants where the food was his! favorite and not a lot on the menu for me. Every time! "order whatever you want" he'd say.......but there was nothing to become thrilled about. Couldn't even order a glass of wine (don't serve that) or coffee (only decaf) because the places were so La-ti-da Vegan Morally Superior

Then.......a simple thank you and such would not be enough. He want the ranting and raving about how exquite, friendly, delicious, the Best, these places were.

Thing was: We had already been to an almost identical place on my dime; for him.
There was nothing new.

Yeah, it very much bothered me.

My Gift Horse is in pieces.

The wonderful thing about being married to an engineer-type is that he is capable of fixing darned near everything that breaks.

The problem with being married to an engineer-type is that once he has diagnosed the trouble and figured out what to do about it, the problem is solved...for HIM. At any given time, there are about 54 unfinished fix-up projects around our house. And I cannot go buy a replacement for whatever is broken because, "it'll only take 5 minutes to fix it!"

GRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!

Eva--

I've got one of those super-handy types. I have a house full of "only take five minute projects".

He has the freezer door for his Memory Board of appointments and suchlike. I have the refrigerator--at least I have some of the refrigerator freezer door and most of the refrigerator door.

I'm going to try sticky notes--one note per project--as a silent nag.

"Only take five minutes"! Ha!

We have a flat top stove which, as you probably know, takes special care. I've said over and over not to put the brass bottom pans on the burners and use high heat, or put the pan on the burner without making sure it is clean and dry first.

The pans are now "bubbled" on the bottom, which means they don't sit flat, and there are spots on the stove top where the surface of the stove has been damaged.

I can walk in most any time that Bear or youngest cub are cooking and find the heat too high and food all over the stove top.

Yeah, great that they can cook, and do, but...

Oh, and Bear insists on using a mop. I hate mops. The floor is left wet, the mop gets nasty, and for gawds sake you have to SWEEP first or you're just swishing a bunch of dirt, crumbs and dog hair around.

Again, great that they are helping to clean, but...

(Okay, waiting for Bear to take me of his "most do-able A2K member" list.)

They usually do it on barbeques in Oz, boomerang! What a carry-on!

Lemme know if the sticky notes work, Noddy.

I'm not overly optimistic, however.

I cook dinner almost every weeknight--and i do the dishes . . .

Excellent, doggy person!

10/10!

great posts

I'll have you know that I am not only a great cook, I clean as I go!!

Anon

Spoken like a man with no one to clean up after him...

Snitch!

Anon

Re: Swish and spit, Mr. Gift Horse.


Look, we're all friends here so there's no need to keep sugar-coating it. Just spit it out and tell us how you really feel!

I will heehee along with littlek!

We have a whole physician heal thyself thing going on with our floors that reminds me of the fix-it stories posted here. You'd expect Mr. "Hardwood Timber Broker" B. to have lovely floors now wouldn't you?

(Luckily I'm only expected to produce quality photographs and six meals a week.)

My husband is handy too, as evidenced by the fact he has practically rebuilt our whole house. (I keep saying I'll post pictures….one of these days)

Because of the building gene he has, most things turn into a regular project.

The last few months before Lulu passed on, she was having a hard time climbing over the side of the jumbo litter box (need a jumbo, more than one cat, and being a cat, so she wasn't too keen on switching gears and using a small box) so, more and more she would just squat next to the box, act like "in the box, next to the box, what's the difference?" and poop on the tile. For some reason she wouldn't do that to pee.

I mentioned that maybe he could make a ramp for her.

OH MY GOD….I thought we were going to have to apply to the city for a permit to build this thing. It was for a 9 pound, 20 year old cat, and he was building it like a Suburban was going to drive up it.

PLUS, I could tell right from the start it wouldn't work, the angle was all wrong….but….keep the peace…..

After he finished I said, "you know, we're going to have cat sh!t rolling down that ramp, because it's too low. Lulu's going to get in the box, hang her ass over the side, and let fly.

Oh no Chai…I built this at this incline so she can walk up an easy slope. If It was any higher, the length of the ramp would have to be a couple of feet longer….I heard this from a distance because I had already walked out of the room.

He was amazed when he found a nice present for us in a few hours. "I don't understand why that happened."

ARRHGGHHH…It HAPPENED because she 20 freaking years old! She steps off the ramp and walks far enough in the cat litter till all 4 feet are in the box! Then, she doesn't go any farther! When she squats her ass hangs out and she doesn't care where it is!

Well, this just did not compute. The numbers had been run several times, and he could show me the math.

There was only one thing to do to prove this to him. I found an empty box in the storage shed that had once held a something largish ….I brought it in the house, said "Pretend I'm a 20 year old cat" Then, I climbed in the box, took down my pants, squatted so my ass was hanging over the side, and took a dump.

It was decided then that Lulu could tackle a steeper slope, one that forced her to step far enough into the box so the poop hit the pellets.

Hardwood broker, eh? I have a few woodworking projects that I've been thinking about tackling....

If I ever have to pinch out a steamer in order to win a family argument, I've already lost.