Sunday, October 16, 2011

Oh Weekend, my Weekend!

My weekend was simple, with easily-described activities.

Friday night, I made this Vidalia Onion Pie by the queen of Southern cooking, Paula Deen:

MMMM-Yeah!  That be some bacon!

I then ate said pie with some carmelized brussels sprouts and wild rice and drank a tall bourbon & ginger w/lime, while watching this fine Woody Allen flick:

The correlation of this movie's name
to both my food and beverage
did not occur to me at the time, no.

Saturday morning I stayed in bed until this time:

And yes, that is NOT p.m., smartass.

After which I donned rubber dish-washing gloves and wrestled my boy cat (the wheezing and sniffling Tusker) into carrier to visit his favorite place -- the x-ray machine at the Neponset Animal Hospital -- to discover, after 3 hours and $350, that he "just had a cold" and that I could give him steroids to ease his congestion while he "waited it out." 

Have you ever tried to give a cat steroids? It's easy and fun!

Here's how excited Tusker was to take his drugs.

The day looked up after that.  I did the last of my marathon training runs....this time up Mass Ave through the Cambridge squares to Porter, then back down through the downtown and home.  Incidentally, running on a major thoroughfare at 8 on a Saturday night is wicked cool .... no drunk folks, no groups of 6 walking abreast, no college students passing footballs on the sidewalk .... no, none at all!

After a lite supper and bath, I enjoyed some more bourbon & ginger and spent 5 hours in conversation with the Man from San Francisco.  Yes, we did have a lot to talk about and I do understand that 4 a.m. is late, but it wasn't a work night.  Yes, we had a pleasant time.  We're getting along just fine, thank you.  There are no photos of this event, sorry.

There are also no photos of me today ... singing in the church choir on 5 hours of sleep.  Or eating seconds and thirds of Paula Deen's pie with full-strength sour cream.  Or napping.  Or running 4 miles around Southie.  Or changing the sheets on my bed or riding the 9 bus uptown or typing this blog entry.

I also have no photographic proof that I tried to give Tusker his steroids today either because, well, I did not try to give him his steroids.

Just wait though; the weekend ain't over yet!

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