Letters to Holly

Friday, June 1

Din-Din

The delay caused by traffic did nothing to boost my spirits by the time I got home. Kathy and Your Sis had both called me to synchronize their watches, and I still had an half hour's drive ahead of me. When I got home, I cracked open the recipe book and started boiling the rice water. The chicken dish called specifically for grilled chicken, not backed or broiled, and the weather was nice enough for me to use the grill. But the charcoal wouldn't light. I tried using the leftover quick-light briquettes and setting fire to the scraps of paper. Nothing. You Sis suggested pouring cooking oil on the coal, but that only made them smoke. So off I go to the convenience store for lighter fluid. They had none. And thus they are no longer a convenience. The closest grocery store did have some, and I managed to get home before Kathy and Travis arrived. The fire started right up with a little fluid, and I still had time to get the rest of the meal together.

It led to a friendly evening of chit chat. Tonya the Exchange Student is thinner, presumably after suffering through a post-exchange, anti-American diet. The baby is eight months old, making wordlike noises, and turning into Kathy's little sister. The burgundy wine and orange marmalade sauce didn't kill anyone, and I washed the dishes while Your Sis played hostess. She finished the damn AP material. It's done, sent off to the Education High Command for approval. Now she has to tackle exams and essays.

We ended the evening by watching some of the National Spelling Bee and learning just how bad we are at guessing the spelling of French hairshirts and bed bugs.

Picture of the Day
Dem bones.

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